Confiscating And Fornicating

Three teachers—Katrina Colt, Ashley Lane, and Katie Kush—sit in the empty classroom after final bell. The year’s haul waits in a cardboard box. Lost-and-found clothes, dog-eared paperbacks, a half-empty bottle of cherry lube, a glossy magazine slick with someone’s fingerprints. They laugh about previous finds, but the sound dies when two thick strap-ons tumble out together. Black silicone shafts, polished steel rings, never used. Katrina picks one up, the weight familiar in her palm. Ashley meets her stare, eyes already darker. Katie pushes the door shut and locks it. Her blouse is open before the keys hit the desk. Katrina fastens the first harness around Ashley’s narrow hips. She slicks the shaft with the cherry lube and strokes it once, twice, testing. Katie drops to her knees, mouth wet, eyes daring anyone to stop her. She takes the head, sucks hard, saliva running over the knuckles gripping her hair. Ashley rolls her hips, finding a rhythm that works with the strap. Behind her, Katrina lowers the second dildo, spreads lube down the shaft until it gleams, then pushes it in one slow, deliberate thrust. Katie’s moan is muffled around the silicone in her mouth. The classroom fills with the blunt sound of bodies and straps and wet friction. They change places. Katie ends up bent across the teacher’s desk, breasts pressed to papers still waiting to be graded. Ashley fucks her from behind while Katrina feeds the other cock into her throat, driving it deep until spit pools at the corner of Katie’s lips. Hands pass, harnesses shift, bodies rearrange in silent, practiced greed. By the end the room smells like sex and rain-damp cotton. They toss one strap-on into the “keep” pile, leave the other as an inside joke for whoever finds it next.