[cybasn]

You imagine that you finally are getting through to some of the dismissive local jocks and their equally critical coach. The coach watches as they offer you some tea. Its store bought but the gesture is nice.

I read Craig's story. Cliché characters. The uptight English teacher, the dismissive PA teacher, the thickskulled arrogant jocks. But I do like clichés at times, particularly in short stories. They save time during character definition, which then can be used to focus on other elements of the story. It all depends on how much space one has to work with.

You notice that you are really getting immersed in the story and allow yourself a place to stretch out. You continue reading how the teacher drinks the tea and starts feeling warmer.

Odd. It is only a text, but it almost feels as if I really drank something.

"Something wrong Professor?" the one jock tells polite. Though he has an odd grin to it as he say so. You are surprised when you Actually reply.

"Erm … pardon?" I reply. And I am not sure where my confusion stems from. That these jocks offer me a bit of tea? Or that I actually seem to talk to characters in a story I am only reading.

"Maybe you should take off your jacket"

"Err, yes … thank you." I reply, surprised a bit about their consideration. What am I doing here? I feel warm? Uneasy and restless actually?

"Wow look at her tits" one of the students says groping her shirt.

"Ex … excuse me?" I exclaim in shock about the gall of his comment. But next I feel a hand grab firm and demanding on my left breast!

The coach ignores your reply and just slowly slides your jacket off. His touch like warm, tingling electricity.

"Wha- …? Mr. … !?" What it is name again? I … cannot remember. How did I

As you read you react your hands seem to have a mind of their own.

It is my own hand that is on my breast. Groping it, using my palm to clutch it and my fingers to dig into it. My thumb and index closing in around my nipple as it stretches against the black lacey bra. I feel too hot and confined. My jacket is already on the floor. When did I slide it off? When I lay down on my couch?

The students ignore your words as the other fondles you from behind. The first getting more daring slowly trolling her skirt up.

"No … no please Si- … To- …" I cannot recall their names. Sid? Tom? "That’s going too far now." I protest. But it sounds unconvincing and half hearted. As if molesting my breast didn’t cross a line already. Why do I allow these liberties to be taken by these two dumb jocks? Is it fear? Is it confusion? Why do I feel so weak that I can not firmly rebuke them, not even verbally, I wonder as my right hand now runs up my stocking clad leg to the hem of my skirt and then slowly pulling it up as I lie on the couch, reading on.

"Always knew you were a slut" she turned to see the coach had pulled out his cock. "So Professor what do you think of this?" He must be at least nine inches and really thick.

"Oh my God!" I exclaim, raising one hand to my cheek and in the same motion readjusting my glasses. As if I am not only shocked by the sheer size, but also as if I need to see the huge thing more clearly to actually believe it. Did my colleague just take out his enormous dick right besides me I'm molested by his students? One now pushing against me from behind while reaching around and groping my tits as the other runs up my skirt?

They all laughed at her answer as the first student started running down her panties.

"Sto- … stop! To- … Si- …!?" I just cannot remember their names. And then I feel how the student before me reaches down to grab my black lacey panty and just pull it down as he grins while in reality it is me who lies on the couch and now getting my panty off, exposing and freeing my shaven pussy from its confinement.

Her vision wasn't fooling her as the coach was at least nine inches and really thick. She was finding it hard to focus as the student between her legs starts rolling his long fingers on the outer rim of her pussy, her next reaction surprised even her.

In my mind I can only stare in horror at the exposed enormity right besides me and watch it mesmerized. I can not believe the size but soon am distracted by how the jock before me cruelly tease me as he trail his fingers up from my stockings along the inside of my thighs to the outer rim of my pussy.

I am trapped! My blouse - it’s too tight. I can hardly move. I need to get out of it! Why is this my only idea to break free?!

She felt confused as to why she wasn't not shouting for help as the student behind her started lifting her shirt his hands sliding underneath trying to get under her bra, she made another protest but it was barely noticeable

I slightly arch there on my back on top of the couch while I struggle to wedge my left hand under my blouse beneath my bra, pushing my hip forward to lie back more and get a better angle … right onto my waiting hand. “No, no please …” I stutter feebly in my head. But then already my fingertips run towards my twat, my thumb aiming for the little nub above it.

"You're starting to get wet Professor" the one between her legs mocks you as he slowly slid his finger in her. She couldn't deny it either.

I part my legs as I lay there on my back and push three fingers right into my sopping wet cunt as I squirm and gyrate my ass and hip on the couch, shoulders digging into it as I press my head backwards hard over its arm, my left hand finally finding my tit and grabbing it hard, nails digging into it, fingers trying to get a hold on my nipple.

I moan and lick my lips as in my head I can only listen how my colleague points out for everyone to hear how aroused I get by the evil play of him and his two football players. A trio which I see now only showed up to my office hour to teach me a lesson for meddling in their affairs and rape me!

The coach walked closer to her in her confused state and grabbed her arm.
"Go ahead Professor, touch my cock and then tell me what you think"

I imagine feeling how I am grabbed painfully by the wrist in a vice-like grip and how my hand is forced to the huge erection to my side. I can not turn my head away from it as the sheer force of it sends a spark down my spine to my pussy as well as to my nipples. And again so when my hand is made to go against his cock and touch it with my palm resting at the huge shaft from below. And then out of my own free will, I close my fingers around it and try to encompass it as if I need to measure it to believe.

My thumb and index barely touch and the sheer realization of its girth again makes my tits feel as if they are trapped inside my shirt. My eyes go wide again as I have to look up to the coach beyond his cock into his uncaring eyes as he talks down to me and then back to his enormous pole and I have to let out another short moan of excitement as his student fingerfucks my pussy. What do I think? How can this be, I am even getting aroused by this?! I am to be violated by three men. Students to boot! And a coworker!!! And all I can do is moan and watch and have them do what they want with me? Even take part?! No one may know!

“Please … I’ll do what you want …” I plead in abject horror.

“Just do not tell anybody.”

“Please.”