

Its afterschool and you’re stuck supervising detention. She’s here with her ridiculously short skirt waving her legs under the desk in front of you. You’re supposed to be marking coursework as she scribbles lines… “I must not be a bad girl” over again, but you just can’t help but stare as her legs open and close, teasing you with a wry smile on her face. “I think I need closer supervision” she says with her hand sliding between her legs. You know exactly what she means, but it’s so wrong… so wrong it’s almost right, right?