popopoka

Being a horny 15-year-old (almost 16!) with a bad crush I tried to hang around Mrs. B. as much as possible. I went to her office for help with assignments when I didn’t really need it. I took every opportunity to touch her arm to get her attention or sometimes give her a friendly squeeze or hug. She always reciprocated with a smile. I imagined she enjoyed my company.

I left her there, naked and bleeding, and the next time I saw her, she was at the base of the west tower, having jumped to her death. Galvin told me not to concern myself with her, that she was simply a broken toy, and that I would find another. But I knew different. She wasn’t a broken toy, and though she made her choice, it wasn’t suicide; it was murder. I killed her. I hurt her, I violated her, and made her life so painful that I might as well have pushed her off that tower myself. I knew it, but I didn’t want to accept it.

“Are you stupid?” she hissed at me. “Go to the fitting room. I’ll be there in a minute. And lose the pants.” The light finally went on for me and I raced back to the fitting room. All the doors to the stalls were open, so no one else was there. I quickly stripped out of my pants and underwear and stroked my cock to its full glory. I was admiring my dick in the full length mirror when there was a soft knock at the door.“Sir? I have some other items for you to try. May I open the door?”