You didn’t want this to happen, but you let me in, you watched me sit down right in front of you, you saw me in that skirt that’s way too short, and you said nothing, did nothing, even though you already knew you were fucked. I’m your student, young, smart, way too comfortable in your space and I know exactly what I’m doing, exactly what I’m triggering, exactly what I came here to take: not a grade, not a favor, but that exact moment when your desire becomes stronger than your reason. I speak softly, I stretch the silences, I let my voice slide straight through your mind while your hand moves almost without you realizing it, while you sink deeper into this obsession you’ve already lost control over. I came here to make you break, to make you lose your grip, to make you jerk off for me right there, at your desk while she’s at home waiting for you with all her loyalty, all her sweetness, all her boring little routines. What I want is simple: I want you going home with my voice burned into your head, I want you thinking about me when you touch her and can’t even get hard, I want to become that thought you hate but crave, that mistake you keep making, that student you’ll never be able to forget. And while you goon, while your body gives in, while you hold your cum like it’s some dirty little secret, I just sit back and watch you fall. I enjoy every second of your shame. You’re going to cum for me. And you won’t recover from it.