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To avoid a sex scandal, administration had decreed that the high school teacher’s lounge have an automatically locking door.

As for the conduct of the faculty, they had thrown up their hands in resignation. Don’t ask, don’t tell, be discreet. Those were the rules.

It all started when a new student opened the door by mistake and saw Mrs. Saxon, an art teacher, mutually masturbating on the track arm sofa next to Mr. Jones, the upper level math teacher.

Mr. Saxon, the band director, was conspicuously absent from the meeting that had ensued.

The new student was transferred to another district by agreement with the parents. The administration managed to keep the incident out of the news.

Per their investigation, the “problem” was so widespread that trying to stop it was never seriously considered.

The teachers fucked. Not all of them, but most, with varying degrees of casualness. It was tacitly accepted that the teacher’s lounge was a safe place to indulge their curiosities.

It didn’t matter who you were, if you were a TA or on the verge of retirement, your gender, your Adana Yabancı Escort sexuality, your proclivities.

One time, Dr. Scary walked in on Mrs. Christine giving Ms. Hellstrom a massage with warming oils, both nude. Ms. Hellstrom was face down on the coffee table, Mrs. Christine’s hands all over her prodigious ass.

Dr. Scary poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down to watch, forgetting about the rolled up copy of the Times under his arm.

Another time, at the encouragement of multiple male teachers, Ms. Majors took off the bottom half of her men’s suit and produced a bullet vibe from her handbag.

Not every teacher in the room was in on it. Some of them weren’t interested in joining the leering circle around Ms. Majors as she pressed the vibrator against herself between splayed thighs.

But nobody complained. Behind the door of the teacher’s lounge, you could expect to witness anything. You gave consent by putting your key in the lock and turning it.

Ms. Randi had TAed elsewhere, but this was her first proper job, fresh out of college.

She’d ankara vip escort been warned, but it only became real when she walked in on Mr. White bending Mr. Sergle over the armchair.

A handful of the more experienced teachers had a private meeting with her. A petite woman, she seemed even smaller at the center of the teachers assembled.

“I’m not upset,” Ms. Randi said carefully, “just surprised.”

After some discussion, it was decided that Ms. Randi would be informally inducted into the teacher’s lounge culture.

Ms. Green, the girls’ gym teacher and a big, brawny brick of a woman, volunteered to educate her.

Ms. Randi was asked if she preferred to be in a group setting or alone with Ms. Green. She chose the latter, with the knowledge that she might still be watched–just not by prearrangement.

This is how it transpired that she ended up sitting on the counter, her legs open, her skirt above her knees, her panties bunched up around one ankle.

Ms. Green stood over her, gazing down upon her body with loveless arousal.

“Do adıyaman evi olan escort you like your hair pulled?” Ms. Green asked.

Ms. Randi wasn’t sure if she did or not, but she nodded anyway.

Ms. Green threaded her fingers through the hair at the back of her head.

For a moment, it felt pleasant, like a visit to the salon. Then Ms. Green bunched her hair into a fist and yanked her head back with irresistable force.

Ms. Randi felt shocked and scandalized, but was surprised by how painless it was.

She was also surprised by a tingling in her bare vulva, which she hadn’t expected.

“Are you ready?” Ms. Green asked.

“I think so.”

More hair pulling. “Are you ready?”

“Yes…”

Ms. Randi let her eyes fall closed, felt two chubby fingers part her labia and ease into her vagina. She hadn’t realized how wet she already was.

Ms. Green finger fucked Ms. Randi with workmanlike efficiency, holding her head back, keeping her knees far apart with the oppressive closeness of her wide body.

Ms. Randi had shied away from watching, but the feeling was a cross between an insistent itch and needing to piss, and she had to open her eyes to keep from being overwhelmed by it.

She looked helplessly into Ms. Green’s face, and Ms. Green looked back with clinical fascination.

Ms. Randi cried out voicelessly as she orgasmed while students milled around just outside.

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