Teacher sex is the only way to go. She’s 34, he’s 14. By the way, this sonic accompanier has incredible guitar licks and solid drums. Not to mention the kinda synthmagic to make a baboon tilt back its head in the jungle and sing Mozart’s arias. But back to the topic A.H. I speak of “on the edge of utopia” as being my motto, but that should really be hers. With the rash of current sex crimes perpetrated by many female teachers gettin’ cat scratch fever, let’s go reenact a real crime. Here we go . . .

“Doggiestyle The Indog’trinator”

By Xwarper UtopiaX DystopiaX

  •       It was a hot day on June 21, 2016, and Ms. Lindsey Jarvis strolled into the classroom she taught, only to stop short. Her eyes widened and her pupils dilated. There on her desk was a 5’3″ Lothario named Peter North, age 14, stretched out like a pink seal. With his black jeans around his ankles, and a coy look on his face, he began to mesmerize her with his forwardness.
  •       Sliding off her desk and pulling up his pants, Peter North the child raised his hand. “Hi, Teach. Was just gonna come looking for you. All the kids left class cuz you were so late. Where were you?”
  •       Jarvis clutched the pearls on her chest. “My God! You had me worried! I can’t believe you were exposed in such a position! Do you realize the kind of trouble I could get in?”
  •       Peter North bent over and farted. “I care.” He paused then said deliberately, “I like your tits. Could I get a closer look?”
  •       She crossed her hands over her breastbone in an X. [author’s note: homage to self.] “That’s perverted and impossible. I have a husband!”
  •        5’3″ Peter North slunk closer, displaying a visible erection through the crotch of his jeans. A “Justin Bieber” face patch was sewn on his left leg and a “One Direction” patch on his right. Pre-cum was soaking through his crotch, so much that it looked like a pitcher of water had spilled on him.
  •       Peter gripped Lindsey’s chin violently. “I need you. I want you. You’re mine.”
  •       But Lindsey resisted. Her husband! She couldn’t! She needed him for access to her Testosterone supplements!
  •       But a quivering had begun in her vaginal walls. Like an earthquake in California, this flesh ripple spread and grew until her stomach muscles and cervix were shaking along to the erotic music. Like the Jamaican song goes, feel it in ya belly.
  •       Peter ripped off her blouse and his own pants. In seconds, they were entwined on Lindsey’s desk as lovers while Peter held up a smartphone making a video recording for future bragging and proof to his friends.
  •       Months later, holding hands on the Boulevard of Lovers on Valentine’s Day, Lindsey’s husband asked her what she was thinking of so pensively with such a thoughtful, disturbed expression on his face.
  •       “Just a student Peter. He has no girlfriend and I feel obligated to be his friend. These boys are so alone. Only human contact can keep him from feeling suicidal.”
  •       Her husband enfolded Professional Teacher Lindsey in his arms. “You’re very brave.”
  •       “Yes,” she said. “I know.”

The End: X.