Discipline Dilemma

Reagan stands in her office like she owns the place—tall, stern, blouse stretched tight across heavy breasts. Shay walks in without knocking, arms crossed under her own full chest, clearly spoiling for a fight. The teen in question sits outside, waiting. Words fly. Reagan’s tone is ice, Shay’s is fire. Then something shifts. Eyes linger. The tension thickens. Reagan steps closer, fingers brushing Shay’s wrist. One kiss turns rough, hungry. Shay pushes back, then pulls Reagan in. Buttons pop. Bras hit the floor. They grab at each other’s curves, lips trailing lower, tongues moving with purpose. Fingers slide, legs spread, mouths work in rhythm until both women are gasping. Outside, the teen stays silent. Inside, the lesson has changed.