Coco slouches in that detention chair like she owns the place. Mr. Phillips sits behind his desk nursing a cup of cold coffee and a permanent scowl. She squirms, crosses her legs, then asks for the bathroom pass. He doesn’t even look up. “If you’ve gotta go that bad, piss right here or hold it,” he growls. The room gets quiet. She stares at him for a second, weighs the risk, then slides forward until her ass hangs just off the front of the seat. Skirt pushed up, panties yanked to the side, Coco lets go. A hot, sharp stream shoots between her spread thighs, splatters across the linoleum, tiny droplets bouncing on her shoes. Phillips freezes—hand gripping his pen so hard the plastic cracks—then his eyes darken and his dick thickens under his slacks. The puddle keeps spreading, every burst of piss making his breath hitch louder, and for the first time all semester he forgets to be an asshole.
Coco slouches in that detention chair like she owns the place. Mr. Phillips sits behind his desk nursing a cup of cold coffee and a permanent scowl. She squirms, crosses her legs, then asks for the bathroom pass. He doesn’t even look up. “If you’ve gotta go that bad, piss right here or hold it,” he growls. The room gets quiet. She stares at him for a second, weighs the risk, then slides forward until her ass hangs just off the front of the seat. Skirt pushed up, panties yanked to the side, Coco lets go. A hot, sharp stream shoots between her spread thighs, splatters across the linoleum, tiny droplets bouncing on her shoes. Phillips freezes—hand gripping his pen so hard the plastic cracks—then his eyes darken and his dick thickens under his slacks. The puddle keeps spreading, every burst of piss making his breath hitch louder, and for the first time all semester he forgets to be an asshole.
