Detention Overload

Lawson keeps coming back like he wants it. Detention signs his name like a dirty whisper. The teachers tear at each other in the hall, Lolly yanking paperwork from Rachael's hand, Sarah barking over Cassie, London pushing through the middle, all of them hot and stubborn. They catch each other mid-shout, eyes narrowing, and something clicks. They stop fighting and start planning how to break him. Five of them, all sharp perfume and short skirts, waiting when he strolls in with that lazy grin. The door shuts. Chairs scrape. Hands land on him fast and rough, clothes stripped piece by piece while mouths press close and voices mix in filthy promises. Lolly takes his cock first, hips working hard, then Rachael climbs on for a turn, gripping the desk while she rides him deeper. The others keep busy with his mouth, his hands, his chest, voices low and cruel, making him earn every inch. The long table rocks with the rhythm, sweat streaking skin, moans turning into commands. Lawson ends up spent, breathless, marked by every one of them, the detention clock forgotten on the wall.