Cheerilee's Fantasy

by Pimapifi

Rating: mature
Tags: Slice of Life, Lyra, Fetish, Rarity, Equestria Girls, Sex, Cheerilee
Length: 5718

While out shopping, Cheerilee is hit by Rarity's outfit-transfiguring spell, which leaves her stranded in public wearing nothing but a thong. To make things worse: she's about to piss herself. Luckily, a student is there to help her out...

Being a teacher isn't always easy. This is especially true when you're a teacher at Canterlot High School, home to raging she-demons, magical pony-human hybrids, and teenage girls that can destroy your clothing with the power of song.

While rushing home from a shopping trip, trying desperately to fight the growing pressure in her bladder, Cheerilee runs into Rarity, who uses a strange spell to rip her clothes off and leave her standing half-naked in public. Now, stranded in the middle of the street, about to piss herself and wearing nothing but the world's tiniest thong, Cheerilee must do everything she can to avoid becoming a laughingstock.

Luckily, star student Lyra is there to help her out. And what a help she is...

Short, shameless, completely contrived clop.
This fic contains:
Exhibitionism
Humiliation
Watersports
Omorashi
Wardrobe Malfunction
Voyeurism
F/F foreplay and sex
Teacher on student sex
Masturbation
All characters depicted are of age.

Published 2015-06-03 01:00:01 UTC
Last updated 2015-06-03 01:00:01 UTC

Cheerilee's Fantasy

As Cheerilee hurried down the street, her wallet completely empty and her hands filled with cheap classroom supplies, she regretted ever becoming a teacher.

Of course, she threw away the thought as soon as it crossed her mind. She loved teaching! There was nothing more rewarding than seeing a student’s face light up when they aced a test, or learned something new. She had wanted to become a teacher ever since she was a child, and she wouldn’t trade it for the world.

But it could be challenging—especially when you had to pay for classroom supplies with your own money. A teacher’s salary was not built to make large purchases. But nevertheless, there she was, carrying eighteen packs of spare pens, three staplers, five reams of looseleaf paper, and one bottle of cheap vodka.

Well, the last one wasn’t for the classroom. At least, not as far as the superintendent knew…

It certainly didn’t help that with every step, a dull tingle would jump through her torso, growing stronger with each passing minute. Her entire body ached, but her bladder in particular felt tight, as if it was being clamped between two sheets of metal. Her punishment for drinking three cups of coffee before leaving school that day, she supposed.

Whatever the case, she felt like she was going to explode if she didn’t get to a toilet fast. Luckily, she was only a few blocks away from her apartment—all she had to do was hold it for five minutes more, and she would be in the clear.

But as she kept moving, and the pressure kept building, she found herself hobbling along, doing everything she could to ease the pain. As discretely as she could manage, she held her shopping bags in front of her, holding back winces as they banged against her knees. Hidden behind the bags, she used both hands to grab her crotch, as if trying to push the tingling back inside her body.

Yet, with every touch, it only seemed to grow worse. She couldn’t erase the feeling, couldn’t ignore it—especially now as it began to grow fiercer, morphing into a sharp pain. Every step was like being poked with a needle. Her home was only two blocks away, and yet it may as well have been two miles.

She tried to speed up into a powerwalk—only to stop a few steps later as she felt a few warm drops of urine escape her tight folds. Cheeks going bright, she froze in the middle of the sidewalk, attracting a few errant stares from the pedestrians behind her. A shudder ran through her body as she looked around at all the people looking at her, and realized that most of them were her students!

They were everywhere! Walking past her, leaning against walls, crossing the street; everywhere she turned, she found one of her students, all looking her way and whispering to one another.

Are they whispering about me? Cheerilee thought, tightening the grip on her crotch. Oh god, they are, aren’t they? They’re all—eek!

A flare of pressure roared through her loins, forcing her entire body to tense up. Every limb shook. It was going to happen, wasn’t it? She was going to soil herself, here in the middle of the street? She hadn’t wet herself since she was a child! And yet here she was, a twenty-seven year old woman, about to piss all over herself, and all of her students were going to watch.

It would only take minutes for everyone in the school to find out. Everyone would know that Miss Cheerilee, CHS Teacher of the Year two years running, had peed in her panties. She held her breath and waited for the inevitable—

“And life is a runway…”

Her eyes flew open. The pain floating through her groin temporarily subsiding, she looked up and saw her student Rarity. The fashionista was about a block away, sauntering down the street and swaying her hips seductively. With every few steps she would belt out another line of her song—something about fashion and finding your true self—before swinging around and shooting a blast of blinding white energy at a passerby. Like magic, whoever she had hit would become gorgeous, decked out in the latest trends.

Hell, it probably was magic, Cheerilee realized with a frown. Ever since Rarity and her friends had saved the world, they’d all been absolutely obsessed with these special new superpowers they all had.

If only they were as obsessed with homework…

As Rarity approached, all eyes moved away from Cheerilee, gravitating toward Rarity’s wide, shaking hips. Cheerilee smiled and loosened her hands. Now that everyone was distracted, this was her chance to limp away without anyone noticing! She took a deep breath and stepped forward—only to let out the breath in a yelp as Rarity walked in front of her, cutting her off.

“You can be the girl that you want to be!” Rarity sang, raising her hands into the air. Cheerilee took a step back, watching as tendrils of flickering magic trailed around Rarity’s fingers. With a single sweeping motion, Rarity threw her arms toward Cheerilee, and the magic rocketed off, hitting the older woman right in the stomach. Cheerilee squealed and stumbled backwards, all of her senses wiped away as the magic wrapped around her, swallowed her, and spit her back out.

When a moment had passed and her vision returned, just in spots at first, she rubbed her head and let out a soft groan. If her bones had ached before, now they felt like they were crumbling to dust. She shot a glare at Rarity, who had already moved onto her next victim, before grumbling and leaning down to grab the bags she had dropped.

Her brain snapped in half.

As she looked down, all she saw were swaths of soft, bare mulberry skin. She let her gaze rise, up her long naked legs, across her slightly-pudgy stomach, all the way to her thin shoulders. All of her clothes had disappeared—well, almost all of her clothes. All that remained were a tiny green tank top, and an even tinier thong.

The latter was barely a string. In the back, it was virtually invisible, swallowed up by her thick asscheeks. It was just as useless in the front, dipping so low that her trimmed purple bush peeked out without any difficulty. It rested just between her pussy lips, giving the world a full view of her nethers.

She shrieked and threw her hands in front of her crotch, only to curse loudly as the sudden movement caused her pink nipples to slip out of the sheer tank top. All eyes had turned back to her, and every passerby—both boy and girl—was enjoying the new attraction. Panting, clenching her eyes shut, she crouched low to the ground, straining to regain any sort of modesty.

She could feel the heat of a hundred eyes boring into her naked skin. All attention had turned back to her, and every passerby—both boy and girl, student and stranger—was enjoying the new attraction. With flailing hands she tried to cover herself up, to hide her most private areas from their view.

Yet, it was no use. Her sizable tits burst from the top, which was just too small to fit them, no matter how many times she tried to stuff them back in. And the thong may as well have not been there; from her spot, squatting there on the sidewalk, the crowd had a clear view of her spread asscheeks. The sun’s rays seemed to be focusing exclusively on her, lighting up her tiny, puckered anus for everyone to see.

She buried her head in her hands and shook her head. This is awful…

It was at that moment that the pain in her bladder came rushing back.

She squeaked as the urge to piss came washing back over her, flowing through her body in waves—No, no, not waves! she thought, pulling at her hair. Like, like… ripples! No, no, no! Oh god, oh god!

Body shaking with shallow breaths, she tried to stand again, only to wince and fall once more as the tiny thong dug into her crotch. The thin string clung to her like spandex. With both hands, she grabbed the waistband and tried to pull them down, to loosen them, to do anything to stop the unbearable stinging in her loins—but with every tug, they only seemed to grow tighter.

“C’mon,” she said, jerking at the thong, pulling at it with all her strength. She could feel the thong slipping into her lips, spreading her open. With every touch came a new jolt of pain, echoing through her bursting bladder. Her vision went blurry. “C’mon!”

The air flickered with light as the audience pulled out their cameras, making sure to record every second of Cheerilee’s nightmare. Cheerilee whipped her head around, searching the crowd for any trace of Rarity, but she was gone. Anyone that could, or would help her was gone.

Cheerilee whimpered and fell to her knees as the cameras kept snapping, and the crowd kept staring. She made no effort to cover herself up anymore, only grasping at her crotch, trying to hold back the stream that so longed to be free. She gulped and lifted her head—at once, the flash of a camera bulb made her jump.

She gasped as a splash of piss spurted out, trailing down her thighs and painting the thong with a dark splotch. She clenched her teeth and managed to hold the rest of the stream back, but not before an army of video cameras caught her accident on tape. Every student in the crowd was laughing, snapping hundreds upon hundreds of photos of her wet, exposed pussy.

The pressure in her loins ran through her body, melding with the heat in her face and the stinging in her eyes. With a shudder, she bowed her head and cried, spreading her legs. There was no stopping the pressure tearing her bladder apart. Might as well get it over with, give the crowd their show, like the little whore she was—

“Miss Cheerilee?”

Breaths hitching, Cheerilee wiped her eyes and looked up. Standing above her, a soft smile spread across her face, was Lyra, another student of hers. Cheerilee sobbed again and looked away. “Don’t look at me,” she sputtered.

“Miss Cheerilee, it’s okay!” Lyra leaned down and touched Cheerilee’s chin, bringing her eyes back up. “I’m not here to laugh at you, or whatever. I can help!”

Cheerilee sniffled. “You… You can?”

“Yeah!” Lyra pointed to Cheerilee’s soaked clit and whispered, “It’s the thong, right? It’s too tight?”

Cheerilee tried to speak, but couldn’t muster any words. She just mewled and nodded.

Lyra grinned and grabbed Cheerilee’s hands, helping her to her feet. The photos kept flying, even as Lyra leaned into her teacher, close enough that their breasts touched. She lidded her eyes and ran her fingers down Cheerilee’s stomach. “It’s gonna be okay,” Lyra cooed.

Leaning down to come eye-level with Cheerilee’s crotch, Lyra slid two dainty fingers into Cheerilee’s waistband and began to pull the thong down her legs.

Cheerilee, still trembling, frowned and opened her mouth to protest, but she was silenced as Lyra jumped back up and kissed her, hard. The older woman’s eyes went wide, and she struggled for a moment—but, as Lyra’s tongue pushed past her lips, danced across her teeth, she felt every emotion fade away, replaced by a deep desire for Lyra’s bare skin on hers. Cheerilee didn’t resist when Lyra wrapped her arms around her, pulling her tighter.

The cameras flashed faster as Cheerilee ran her hands through Lyra’s silky hair, inhaling the minty musk that wafted off of the young girl’s skin. She wrapped her tongue around Lyra’s, softly bit her lower lip, as if fighting for lustful dominance. She flinched as Lyra reached around and grabbed a handful of her thick ass, sliding into her cheeks, moving the thin string to the side and digging a fingertip into her tight hole.

Both girls gasped for air when they pulled apart, lips slathered with each other’s saliva. As Cheerilee tried to catch her breath, to remember where the hell she was, Lyra moved downwards, nipping at Cheerilee’s cheek, her neck, her chest, before tearing off the thin tank top. She scooped up Cheerilee’s breasts with both hands and flicked her tongue across the narrow areolas. Lyra circled Cheerliee’s perking nipples, every few moments swiping the flat of her tongue across the center, sending electric shivers crawling across Cheerilee’s skin.

She left Cheerilee’s breast with one last nibble before trailing back down, planting hard kisses along Cheerilee’s stomach, her bush, all the way down to her thin slit. Cheerilee felt Lyra dip her hands into her thong again, before sliding them down her legs. As the cloth fell, a thin strand of Cheerilee’s nectar hung, stretching further and further as she let the thong descend to her ankles.

Cheerilee could feel her body shake with each thump of her heart. The afternoon sun glinted off of her wet slit, and she knew that if Lyra were to look up right now she would see everything. Heat fluttered through her body.

When the panties had reached her feet, Lyra let go and let them rest. She looked up at Cheerilee with a smile. “You can step out now.”

Cheerilee did as she was told, gulping as the offending garment was flicked away. Now with the thong gone and her tank top ripped away, she stood truly naked, her clear skin shining in the light. The cameras were still snapping away, taking in every aspect of her: the gentle slope of her perked tits; her plump, rounded ass; her glistening clit. Everything about her was out on display, watched and observed as if she were some sort of animal.

Lyra looked up, dragging her eyes across Cheerilee’s loosening folds. “Is that better?”

There was a pause as Cheerilee tried to nod, but dissolved into a horrible wince. Even with the thong gone, the pressure in her bladder had become mind-rending. She grabbed her flushed pussy, pressed her thighs together, but she knew that there was no stopping it. She was going to piss all over herself, and Lyra was going to get a front row seat.

Every part of her body was screaming for relief, and she could only barely muster the brainpower to understand Lyra as she asked, “What’s wrong?” Lyra reached up and parted Cheerilee’s palms, revealing her spot once again. “You look like you’re in pain.”

Cheerilee just opened her mouth and stood there, gulping in loud breaths.

Lyra frowned and raised a brow—but after a moment, her face softened. She nodded and leaned in to plant a few quick kisses around her teacher’s vulva. “I understand,” she murmured into the pulsing patch of pink. “Just relax. Just let it out.”

Another sob climbed up Cheerilee’s throat as the pain in her bladder collided with the jolts of pleasure coming from Lyra’s soft touch. Every one of her senses was revolting, shrieking. She darted her eyes around, realizing with a start that not only was everyone staring, but they were grinning; they were finding delight in watching her squirm, trying not to wet herself.

And yet, suddenly… she didn’t care.

Lyra’s voice was so calm, and her kisses were so gentle, and the pressure was blinding—

Her entire body went slack, and a few beads of urine trickled from her sex. Her students leaned in to get a better view as Cheerilee let loose. The rivulet trailed down slowly, soaking through her thin leg hair. As it reached the ground, Cheerilee clenched her teeth and pushed a bit, trying to hasten her relief—she exploded.

The trickle quickly grew strong, taking only a moment to become a flood. Cheerilee let out a shuddering moan as the golden waterfall flowed from her nethers, gushing down her legs, over her knees, onto the pavement. Her piss spilled across her bare skin, sending waves of warmth fluttering through her nerves.

The musk of her urine was sharp—nearly as sharp as the splashing sound it made as it hit the ground. A tinted puddle was growing under her, seeping into her toes.

The pleasure of her relief was so intense, so raw, that without even noticing she closed her eyes and lifted her head high in the air, letting her tongue loll out uselessly. Even without looking, she knew well how many people were watching. She knew that by tomorrow, everyone in town would see her most private, most intimate places. Everyone would see the way she wet herself, as if she were just a child.

She was their little piss whore, emptying herself just for them—man, woman, student.

The thought flooded her mind. With shaking fingers, she reached down and spread herself wider, letting the piss form a wide arc. Lyra didn’t move away, even as the stream hit her shirt, revealing her tiny, supple tits. With a laugh, Lyra cupped her hands and filled them with Cheerilee’s piss, until they overflowed and the pee ran down her arms. She threw the yellow pool onto herself, giggling as it spilled down her shirt, staining her tight jeans.

Lyra opened her mouth and leaned forward, licking her lips as the bitter urine flittered onto her tongue.

Cheerilee panted from the blooming ripples of pleasure that were moving through her crotch. She grunted, doing what she could to keep pissing, to completely empty her bladder into Lyra’s mouth.

As the stream slowed, Cheerilee opened herself wider. She gasped as Lyra jumped forward and ran her tongue up her leg, lapping the urine up as if it were water. Lyra sucked on Cheerilee’s skin, leaving tiny love bites as she worked her way up.

With short, deliberate movements, Lyra began to clean her teacher’s filthy crotch. She pressed her tongue flat against the damp folds, before circling Cheerilee’s clit, savoring the dirty musk. She dragged her tongue along Cheerilee’s cunt in long, soft swipes.

For a moment, Lyra pulled back, gasping for air. She could only grin as drops of piss and honey drippled onto her flushed cheeks.

Cheerilee’s body tensed up as Lyra moved back in, sliding her tongue deep into her wide snatch. Lyra wasted no time; she went straight for Cheerilee’s core, prodding Cheerilee’s walls until she found it. Lyra flicked at Cheerilee’s button and smiled as her teacher spasmed. Her face was bathed in Cheerilee’s juice.

Cheerilee squealed and grabbed hold of Lyra’s messy hair, pressing the teenager’s face into her crotch. She was still standing, but her knees felt like they would buckle under her at any moment. Her breaths came in gasps and moans.

Cheerilee was no stranger to sex—in college, she had made a point of getting as much cock as possible, usually belonging to guys she didn’t even know—but this was something else. This was her student, barely more than a child, exposing herself in the middle of the street just to please her teacher.

The cameras were flashing, were zooming in to see everything. They were being recorded by dozens upon dozens of bystanders. Neither one of them would ever live this down.

For the rest of her life, Cheerilee would be known as the teacher who pissed herself, and made her student eat her out in the middle of the street.

“Miss Cheerilee…” Lyra murmured into her teacher’s pussy.

A flame was sparking in Cheerilee’s loins. Lyra had gone deeper, massaging Cheerilee’s walls with her deft tongue. Cheerilee closed her eyes and moaned Lyra’s name into the air, whips of fire trailing through her. She knew what was coming.

“Miss Cheerilee,” Lyra said again. She pressed her tongue hard against Cheerilee’s nub—and everything exploded.

The orgasm ripped through Cheerilee like a tsunami. She was sure that she must have screamed something, but all she could hear was Lyra moaning her name. Her muscles clamped, and a thick, warm jet squirted out, splattering across Lyra’s tongue. It was over, but still she wanted more, she wanted Lyra to keep going, to keep being her slut—

“Miss Cheerilee!”

Cheerilee opened her eyes to find thirty fully-clothed students staring back at her.

She snapped up in her seat—she was sitting at her desk. Canterlot High School, Room 322. A quick glance at the clock showed her that it was just past noon. With shaking hands, she patted herself down; all her clothes were still there, just like they had been when she had gotten dressed that morning.

She turned back to her students, all of whom were gawking at her. “What happened?” she asked.

There was silence for a moment as everyone exchanged glances. In the back of the classroom, Applejack raised her hand. “You, uh, fell asleep while we were watching a movie.”

For the first time, Cheerilee noticed that the lights were off. She spun around, and found that there was a TV sitting at the front of the classroom. The DVD menu for “Mysteries of Ancient Saddle Arabia” was looping.

“Oh, that’s right!” Cheerilee piped, looking back to her students. She took a deep breath and put on a shuddering grin. “Well, um… what did you learn?”

“Nothing,” Rainbow Dash said, head in her hands. “We couldn’t hear it. You were moaning and groaning the entire time.”

Cheerilee nearly choked on air. She spent a few seconds babbling, trying to think of an explanation, while her cheeks set themselves on fire—

The bell rang.

Without a word, the entire class stood in unison, packing their notebooks and pens away. Cheerilee let out a relieved sigh and allowed herself to slump for a moment—but just as quickly went back into Teacher Mode.

“Make sure to hand in your homework before you leave!” she said, earning a uniform groan. “And don’t forget to read in your textbook tonight!”

One-by-one, the students walked by her desk, throwing down long essays about the history of Saddle Arabia. Well, mostly long; Rainbow Dash’s was only about a page, most of which was taken up by her title: Why Saddle Arabia Used to be So Awesome.

But it was just as Cheerilee felt her heart start to slow, felt the fog around her mind begin to burn off, that she looked up and froze.

Lyra stood in front of her, beaming. “I worked really hard on this,” she said, laying the paper down gingerly on top of the pile. “I went to the library and everything. I think you’ll really like it!”

Cheerilee tried to respond, but found herself suffocated by the light smell of mint that wafted from Lyra’s skin. A moan hiding in her throat, she just smiled and nodded. Luckily, that seemed to be enough, as Lyra grinned and walked away. She was the last one out, and closed the door behind her.

The classroom was silent but for the ticking of the clock. Cheerilee sighed and dragged her hands down her face. What’s wrong with you? she asked herself, scowling. She’s your student!

Shaking her head, she stood up—and went rigid.

Her crotch was damp.

She swore loudly and fell back into her seat. There was no way—she couldn’t have. Did she actually… actually piss herself in the middle of class? Hell, did she orgasm in the middle of class? Was she really the slut that her dreams made her out to be? She hiked up her skirt and slipped her wet panties off of her legs.

The front of her white cotton panties were stained gray with some mix of urine and girlcum. Luckily, whatever had come out was minimal; only a few drops at most.

She allowed herself a smile and laid her panties on her lap. She was safe… for now. Even though she hadn’t pissed herself, she could still feel a deep pressure in her bladder; she was lucky that she had managed to hold herself back. Years of being trained to use the toilet like a normal adult were stronger than dreams, she supposed.

She picked up her soiled panties and moved to throw them into her purse—only to stop as they passed by her face.

The sharp smell of urine and nectar fluttered through her nostrils, and a familiar feeling ran down her back. She paused for a moment and took a glance toward the still-closed door before taking another whiff. The odor was potent, hardy. She could feel a lustful fuzz crawling over her brain as she pressed the damp underwear against her nose.

She gasped as the tingling in her crotch returned. The smell of her fluids was wrapping around her. She reached down and brushed a finger against her wet lips, and a blast of pure feeling whipped up her veins.

She looked at the door again. It was sixth period now, which meant that this classroom would be empty… no one would be coming.

Well, that may have not been entirely true.

Cheerilee hiked her skirt up a bit higher and spread her legs, resting her feet up on the desk. A breeze from the open window blew across her warm folds, making her shiver. She grinned.

Pressing the panties to her face, Cheerilee rubbed a finger along her outer lips. With shaking movements, she brought both hands to her crotch and spread herself open. If someone were to walk in, they would get a full view of her dripping cunt. She tried to swallow, but her throat was dry as a fingertip brushed against her clit.

She let her head roll back. She closed her eyes, and she thought back to her dream. She thought back to the way that everyone had seen her naked, the way that everyone caught a glimpse of her private places. She thought of Lyra drinking her piss, only to eat her out in the middle of the sidewalk…

She wanted it to be real. She wanted more.

So, rubbing her swollen clit with two fingers, she decided to come up with her own dream. She inched open her eyes and gazed forward.

She could see Lyra standing in front of her, squirming as she felt that same pain in her bladder. She would dance from foot to foot, trying not to piss through her tight jeans, trying not to humiliate herself in front of her teacher. She hadn’t wet herself since kindergarten. Lyra was an adult—she wouldn’t, she couldn’t wet her pants in public like that. She would grab her crotch and beg Cheerilee to let her go to the bathroom.

But before Cheerilee could respond, it would happen. Lyra would start crying as the piss spurted from her tight pussy, spilling down her legs, splattering across the floor. Cheerilee would see the growing stain on her crotch, would see the dark lines trailing down her pant legs. The air would flood with the scent of Lyra’s embarrassment as her legs buckled, and she fell into her own puddle.

She would start sobbing, so embarrassed that she could just die. But Cheerilee would saunter up to her, and help her stand. She would slip a hand down her soaked panties, and kiss her tears away. She would let Lyra know that it was okay—just like Lyra had done for her in her dream. With gentle hands she would pull down Lyra’s soiled pants. She would pull her panties to the side and rub a finger between her warm, tender folds before pulling the young girl in for a passionate kiss.

Cheerilee took a deep breath, basking in the smell of the ruined panties pressed against her face—she imagined that they were Lyra’s. With a shudder, she took the panties away from her face and rubbed them into her twitching cunt. She stroked herself with the wet cotton.

She would dig a finger deeper and deeper into Lyra, she would slip her tongue into Lyra’s mouth and snake a hand up her shirt, flicking her perked nipples. This was all she wanted.

She wanted Lyra. She wanted Lyra’s tiny breasts, and her firm little ass. She would tell Lyra to bend over, to spread herself, to let her warm juices splatter all over Cheerilee’s waiting tongue. She would eat Lyra out, devour her, bask in the squeaks she would make as Cheerilee lapped at her, flicked at her button, tongued her small asshole.

She would cry out for Cheerilee to stop—but Cheerilee wouldn’t, because she knew that this is what Lyra wanted. And once she accepted that, Lyra would beg Cheerilee to keep going, even after she came once, twice, three times. The floor would be covered in her sweet honey.

Was Lyra a virgin? Probably. Cheerilee would be her first lover.

Cheerilee would flip her over, would pin her against the desk, and they would grasp each other and fight with their tongues, all the while rubbing their wet clits together. It would be like a movie. She would be the teacher, trusted and wise, fucking her young, naïve student in the middle of an empty classroom.

Hell, why did the classroom have to be empty? Let it be full. Let everyone in the school watch as Lyra lost her innocence on an old creaking desk, her nectar running down her legs in rivers.

“Oh, god!” Cheerilee cried, sliding her fingers deep into her pussy. She shoved a fist into her mouth to stifle another scream, lest anyone in the hall hear her. She was gulping for breath. The world was a blur. The chair she sat on was soaked with both her juice, and the sweat running down her plump asscheeks.

And after she was done fucking Lyra, she would let go, and Lyra would collapse to the floor, exhausted. She would fall into the puddle of piss and pussy juice that she had made, her naked limbs splayed across the floor.

And everyone would take pictures of Lyra’s wet body, the young slut that she was. Everyone would know that Lyra was no more than a piss whore, ready to have sex with anyone who wanted her, no matter where. But Cheerilee would always be her first, her best lover. She loved her teacher’s cunt, and her teacher loved hers.

With a strangled gasp, Cheerilee threw the panties to the floor and snatched Lyra’s essay off the table. She held the paper to her nose—it smelled of mint, just like Lyra’s soft skin.

Cheerilee climaxed. Her entire body bucked forward as the nectar spurted from her twitching cunt. It squirted across the floor, onto the desk. The entire room smelled of her, smelled of her juices. Her body shook with the pleasure sprinting along her limbs, smashing into her brain. She wanted to moan, to shout, but couldn’t even muster a squeak.

A comfortable warmth settled upon her bones. She breathed in vibrato, her heart slamming against her ribs like a freight train. Hot nectar leaked from her still-puffy folds, trailing down her thighs. She swore silently, cursing herself for taking a risk like that—but it had been so worth it.

She had just masturbated to one of her own students. Not only that, but a fantasy of one of her students pissing their pants.

She smiled and held Lyra’s essay to her chest. It had been years since she had felt so good.

Cheerilee sat like that for a few minutes, letting her juices soak into the seat. Just as they began to pool between her asscheeks, she felt a slight twinge in her bladder—she had gotten so caught up in her fantasy that she had forgotten that she needed to pee.

“Should probably take care of that,” she chuckled to herself, lifting one leg off the desk. Her thighs were drenched in sweat and in arousal. “I hope they’ve restocked the toilet paper recently—“

The classroom door swung open.

“Hey Miss Cheerilee,” Lyra said, walking inside. “I was wondering—“

The two locked eyes, and she froze.

Lyra’s eyes were wider than windowpanes. Her face went white as her gaze drifted away from Cheerilee’s face, down her chest, and onto her glistening crotch.

Cheerilee’s entire body was rigid. It felt like a hole had been ripped in her lungs.

Silence flooded the classroom.

Lyra took a step back, and fear bolted through Cheerilee’s bones—only to explode in her bladder.

The silence was broken by a sharp hiss as a thick jet of urine spurted from Cheerilee’s soaking cunt. The piss arced forwards, hitting the linoleum with a heady splash.

Cheerilee’s cheeks had been set ablaze. Lyra just gawked.

Warm yellow urine gushed across the floor, pooling into a massive puddle. Cheerilee’s pee flooded the waxed floor, flowing out from under her desk and into the rows of seats. Not even the breeze fluttering through the window could wipe out the pungent smell.

Neither girl said a word the entire time, even as the piss spilled over to where Lyra stood. Lyra just took a step back so it wouldn’t flow onto her sandals. After nearly a full minute, Cheerilee’s flow began to putter out, spilling more onto her chair and thighs than onto the floor.

It was only as Cheerilee finally put her feet on the ground and closed her legs—she winced as the urine seeped between her toes—that she began to realize: she had just pissed herself in front of one of her students. She was living her dream.

She wanted to scream.

“Yes?” Cheerilee choked out after a minute, resisting the urge to throw herself out the window. “Was… was there something you needed, Lyra?”

Lyra moved her mouth wordlessly for a few moments before sputtering, “I was gonna ask what the homework was.”

“Pages 170 to 180 in the text,” Cheerilee said, looking away. “Write a one page summary.”

Lyra nodded and sprinted away, slamming the door shut behind her.

Cheerilee sat for a minute, grimacing as her chair, soaked with piss and girlcum, squished under her. Her feet were damp. The smell was choking.

When she finally regained enough brain function to move, her first action was to grab a pen. In one quick motion, she grabbed Lyra’s essay and wrote a massive ‘A’ at the top.