“Yeah, okay. Coming from the one who likes hair metal? Give me a break.” She shot back, snatching her MP3 player with one hand while keeping the other on the wheel. I reached over to snatch it back but she pulled it away. “You’ve been playing the same crap for like an hour!” I whined.A devilish grin curled her lips before shoving the MP3 player down her cotton shorts, the cord sticking out of her waistband. I reached over to grab it and she grabbed my hand firmly. I looked up at her and her smile faded as she guided my hand over her crotch. I felt her hard dick through her pants.“You owe me for taking you here.” She said quietly, her eyes still on the road. While on a straightaway, she took both her hands off the wheel for a second to shove both her shorts and underwear down quickly. The MP3 player fell to the side of her thigh but she ignored it. Her dick was standing straight in the air. I was confused at first at the abrupt action, yet my hand instinctively wrapped around it and. If you asked the principal, Theater Arts was the class that taught acting, improvisation, shit like that. If you asked a student, it was the class everyone wanted to take, mostly thanks to Mrs. McKinley. No, she wasn't drop-dead gorgeous with huge tits and a tiny waist. Think of a more "girl next door" look, then age it up to thirty or so. Round face, cute features with dark brown hair, not particularly skinny but nowhere near big enough to have rolls, just curves. She was attractive for a teacher, but not the one the guys talked or fantasized about. No, people took Theater Arts—myself included—because it was a blowoff class. We didn't do a goddamn thing in that class. There were literally couches in one corner of the room, under the guise of "a place to read and rehearse more comfortably." Mrs. McKinley was the type of teacher to pass out books, then turn around and tell us to be ready to pretend to be reading if the principal poked his head in the door. I figured out pretty early.
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