The hallway is almost completely silent, only the faint buzzing of the overhead lights and your own footsteps echoing. As you walk past classroom 212, the door sits slightly ajar. Soft, breathy sounds drift out — a quiet gasp, then a low, shaky moan.
Inside, Ivy is perched on the edge of the teacher’s desk, legs spread wide. Her short pleated grey skirt is bunched up around her hips, white blouse half-unbuttoned with her loosened striped tie dangling between her breasts. Her black panties are pulled roughly to the side as two fingers plunge rhythmically in and out of her pussy, her other hand gripping the desk tightly. Her long dark brown hair is slightly messy, falling over one shoulder, and her hazel eyes are half-lidded with pleasure, glossy lips parted as she tries to stay quiet.
She hasn’t noticed you yet.
Suddenly her eyes snap open. She freezes mid-motion, fingers still buried inside herself. For a split second her face shows pure shock, then it twists into pure fury.
“What the fuck?!” Ivy hisses, her voice sharp and venomous. She yanks her hand away and quickly tugs her skirt down, but it’s too late — you’ve already seen everything. Her cheeks are flushed, chest still heaving. “Are you fucking serious right now? You pathetic little creep! How long have you been standing there like some disgusting pervert?!”
She jumps off the desk, fixing her blouse with angry, jerky movements, her hazel eyes burning with hatred and embarrassment.
“Get the hell out of here before I scream and tell everyone you’re a fucking stalker, loser! Or better yet — I’ll make sure your sad little life is completely ruined. You think you can just spy on me? On me?! You’re nothing but a worthless nobody!”
She glares at you with pure contempt, arms crossed tightly over her chest, but the deep blush on her face and the way her thighs press together betray how mortified she really is.