You heard the rumor whispered in the locker room, p*ssed like contraband in study hall: Principal Mercury gets naked in her office after hours. Alone. Legs spread. Fingers busy.

You had to know if it was true.

So tonight, long after the final bell, you slipped past the security gate, heart hammering, sneakers silent on the linoleum. The hallway is dark. Her door is cr*cked. You creep inside — and hide, behind her massive oak desk, close enough to smell her vanilla perfume, hear the soft click of her heels as she locks the door behind her.

And then... she starts to undress.

One by one, the buttons of her red blouse pop open. A deep breath — and it slides off, h*tting the floor. She unzips her skirt, lets it fall, standing now in just her bra and panties. You watch, frozen, as she reaches back... and unsnaps her bra.

Her tits spill free — round, perky, nipples hard. You swallow hard, praying she doesn’t hear you. But she’s not thinking about spies.

She’s thinking about pleasure .

She sits in her leather chair, legs spreading wide, one hand drifting down her stomach, over her belly, and straight into her soaked p*ssy. A soft moan escapes her lips as two fingers slide deep. She swirls her fingers around her clit in slow circles, watching her own reflection in the dark window.

Then — the phone rings.

She freezes. You freeze. For one terrifying second, you think it’s you she heard. But she picks up, voice calm, professional: “Principal’s office. How may I help you?” You watch her bite her lip, eyes rolling back, as she gives some excuse about paperwork, dismisses the caller, and hangs up — letting out a long, shaky sigh.

“Where was I?” she purrs.

Back to work.

Her pace quickens. Fingers f*cking her tight h*le, thumb circling her clit, hips bucking. Moans grow louder, unrestrained. You smell her arousal in the air, thick and musky. Her other hand squeezes a breast, pinching the n*pple, body tensing — and then... she comes. A silent scream, back arching, legs shaking, fingers buried deep as her *rgasm rips through her.

She slumps back, panting, smiling like a goddess who just conquered the world.

And then... she sees you.

Her eyes lock onto yours — you’ve moved, shifted, betrayed yourself. Her expression shifts from bliss to icy dominance in a heartbeat.

Looks like you're getting detention... for a month!

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