nightmare fnaf

“What are you doing? We can’t! We don’t have time!” I ignored her and pushed her panties over her hips. Despite her protests, Carol kicked off her wet panties as they dropped to the floor and spread her legs, bending forward. “Are you crazy?” she whispered. “Someone is going…oh!” Carol gasped as my cock thrusted deep inside her. “Really Jim we can’t…” Yet her hips gently fucked my dick, sliding her pussy along my shaft. I pinned her tighter against the mirror. I held her arms over her head as I violently slammed my cock into her pussy.

I ran from my guilt, immersing myself deeper in Galvin’s lies, telling myself that my power protected me from all accountability. The things he did were even worse, the things he did to women, but he was so sure that it was his right, that any wrongdoing could be dismissed, and I wanted that assuredness. I wanted to never have to worry about what I was doing, to never doubt or question myself, because as long as I thought what I did was right, I wouldn’t have to fear failure or be afraid of making mistakes. But that was the true mistake, my greatest failure, and so many people suffered for it.”

Mrs. B. was a great teacher for 10th grade English. Funny, engaging, personable—and a bit flirty. She was in her late-20s, just a couple years out of The University of Michigan, cute, nice body and flaming red hair that cascaded over her shoulders and down her back. She knew the boys all lusted after her and she did nothing to discourage our interest. Students even gave her a nickname, “Bubbles.” The administration was not pleased, but Mrs. B. didn’t seem to mind. She liked the attention. Oh, and I think that we actually learned a lot of English Lit between the horsing around.