← Back
Nadia Okafor was thirty-two, the Year Six teacher with the red lipstick and the laugh that carried down corridors. She and Claire shared a classroom wall, a coffee habit, and one drunken Christmas kiss neither had ever mentioned.
Mark had heard about the kiss. ‘Invite her for dinner,’ he said. ‘Tell her the truth. If she says yes, you’re hers for the night.’
Claire told her over the pasta, cheeks flaming. Nadia set down her wine glass and looked from Claire to Mark. ‘So she does anything you say?’
‘Anything,’ Mark said. ‘Within her limits.’
Nadia smiled slowly. ‘Then tell her to take her top off.’
‘Claire. Top off.’ She pulled it over her head, then her bra, and sat at her own dinner table with her tits bare while Nadia came round the table and stood behind her chair.
Warm hands cupped her breasts. Nadia pinched her nipples until Claire gasped, then kissed her neck, tongue hot. ‘I’ve thought about this every day since Christmas,’ she breathed. ‘Spread your legs.’
Claire obeyed. Nadia’s hand slid under her skirt, found her knickers soaked through, and rubbed her clit through the wet cotton until her hips were bucking against the chair.
Mark watched, cock straining in his jeans. ‘Your call now, Nadia. She’s yours.’
What happens next?
→ Nadia takes her to the bedroom, just the two of them