Miss Udders - Part 3 - Sex Stories

Miss Udders - Part 3

“Mr. Carlson, please. Please don’t make me,” begged Lily pathetically. They were both in her supply closet, minutes before class was set to begin.

“Now, now,” scolded Tyler, relishing his position of power, “You said it yourself. What is your number one job as an art teacher?”

“To inspire my students,” said Lily, her voice muffled by the hands covering her face.

“We both know that the painting unit you’ve been teaching hasn’t really been working. The class has lost its creative spark. They need something to truly inspire them. You are going to give it to them. You know, I’m doing you a favor by pushing you to do your best. I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

With that, Tyler deftly scooped up the pile of Lily’s clothes and left her in the supply closet on her own.

The loud click of the door closing made Lily jump slightly. She couldn’t believe that she was even considering this.

I mean, obviously, it wasn’t an issue for older, more mature artists interested in painting anatomy. But she knew exactly what sort of paintings would be produced if she went out there.

The bell rang loudly. She could already hear the boys filtering into the classroom, talking and laughing excitedly, setting up their paints and easels. Preparing for a class they had been looking forward to for a while.

It wouldn’t be so bad if Lily herself were able to approach this dispassionately, but her large nipples were already painfully hard, and she had been wiping between her legs every ...

... minute or two since she had taken her clothes off just to keep her juices from running down her legs.

If she went out there, all of the students would see immediately what kind of person she was. The kind who was incredibly turned on by the idea of her students seeing her naked.

The bell rang again to signal the beginning of class. For once, the boys outside went quiet: a silent, concentrated anticipation of what was going to happen next. A quiet knock came at the door of the closet, making Lily jump again.

“Your class is waiting for you, Lily,” said Tyler, firm voice muffled by the door. “They need to be inspired.”

With shaking hands, Lily grabbed the paint-splotched old towel she used to dry paintbrushes and hung it loosely around her shivering, naked body. Then she closed her eyes, took a deep, steadying breath, and opened the door of the closet.

As she expected, the eyes of the whole class were locked on to her from the moment she stepped out. There were no cheers or whoops this time. Lily almost wished that there had been just to cut the tension.

Instead, there was just the silent, intense stares of a dozen eighteen-year-old boys, locked onto her bare shoulders, her pale thighs peeking beneath the ratty towel, the outline of her curves inadequately concealed by the dirty covering.

Tyler, a smirk on his face, nodded to Brick, who crossed the room to tape a prepared piece of cardboard over the small window in the door.

There could be no explanation ...