What is the excuse today?

Miss Swanson asked.

The slender woman sat on the desk and crossed her long legs, her tight-fitting black skirt, which drastically clashed with any dress

code for female teachers ever, climbed on her shiny thighs and exposed even more from her smooth

stockings. Her student, with his broad shoulders, thick black beard, and tattoos on his

forearms, also didn't fit the mold of a proper pupil exactly. But horny adults who liked to enjoy the

thrills of well-executed role-play had purposeful blind spots for some details.

If the vibe was right, it was easier to ignore some glaring issues.

Thankfully, Sam's apartment carried the interior design of a typical modern male space, and the large room, massive desk, and almost no furniture, easily fooled the brain that this place could work as a classroom.

He did need to sit on a beanbag, and the board behind the

teacher was filled with codes and scribbles for his work, but the fantasy was not harmed by

those elements. They were out of focus anyway. Yanna, or Miss Swanson, for the day, was dressed in the aforementioned short skirt.

Her exquisite legs were wrapped in skin-colored stockings.

She was without any shoes, since they were inside, and she spent the whole last night on her feet,

so she was not eager to torment her souls with high heels. She had a stylish silk green shirt.

The buttons, up to her chest, were dangling free.

The lace edges of her bra were peeking through the generous gap.

Her deep cleavage was glistening from the sweat.

Some of the strands of her blonde hair were stuck to her skin,

right at the center of her smushed boobs. Her attire was

completed by big, round glasses with black frames. Her deep brown eyes stared at her lover

through the fake glasses. Sam was more casual in his approach.

...