My favorite teacher was my math teacher, Mrs. Gibson. She was in her late thirties, a wife and a mom, but man, was she sexy! She had long full blonde hair, a pretty face, was average in height, and had big tits. Like most of the teachers she dressed casual more than she dressed up, but whatever she wore, it was hard to hide her hot body. I wasn't much of a math student, and since I had math my last class of the day, I spent most of the period staring at Mrs. Gibson and having fantasies about her.
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Lorri woke to a strange sensation. She was completely uncovered, which wasn't that unusual. Her niece routinely stole all the blankets. The difference was that she felt the cool air on every inch of her skin. She never slept naked while at her sister's place. She tried to reach down and feel what had happened and felt an icy shiver run up her spine. Her hands were tied to the bedpost above her. And it felt as though she was gagged as well.
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The small sign hanging in the window of the entryway was innocuous enough. "Oriental Massage" it read simply. If one wasn't paying attention as they drove by, they'd likely miss it, and mistake it for a plain, white house with an odd location. It's not every day that you see a house in the middle of an otherwise commercial/industrial area. But I was observant, and had seen the sign driving to and from work many times. It always piqued my curiosity.
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Penny had never had quite so much fun—or felt so much anxiety—during work as she had today. As a saleswoman in a lingerie store in the mall, there were always those fantasies. Spending hours in a room filled with large posters of half naked models and couples searching for a sexy outfit to get nasty in could really get the mind churning, even for a straight girl like Penny who was usually never sex-starved enough to have to daydream about it.
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