She pulled up on my polo shirt and slipped her hands up under my shirt and onto my chest. She leaned forward and I could feel her hot breath on my nec....“Do you want to fuck me?” Diane whispered into my ear.I had never had a stripper ask me that question. This was not just any ordinary stripper. This was Diane Hacker, my son’s high school science teacher.“We can’t do that in here,” I replied.“Who says we can’t?” She countered. “I can do whatever I want to do!”“How much?” I asked.Diane slipped a. The three of them approach me, and begin to stare me down. Patrick firmly announces some sort of initiation intro. I quickly try to adjust my tie and tuck it back into my coat, but his arm and palm shoot out at my chest, and grabs me by the tie and the front of my shirt. He leans in and asks why I was late. I'm quiet, yet aroused by the domineering presence. With his free hand, he smacks me across the face. I’m asked a second time, and I hesitate. He smacks me again. Again, he asks me. . He knelt there, one hand wrapped round my thigh, the other gently rubbing my pussy though my underwear. It felt so good. He grabbed the crotch in his teeth, scraping my clit as he did, sending a wave of pleasure over me, and pulled my underwear down. I kicked them away, and tried replacing my foot on the floor, but Ian grabbed my leg and held it there in the air. I could sense what was coming and he knew it, smirking, he moved his head in between my legs, I could feel the stubble grazing the. “Okay, Abby, one last time,” I said.She came to me and kissed me fervently. I guess I didn’t make her skin crawl as much anymore. I decided to say so.“That was a nice kiss almost a romantic kiss,” I said. “I guess I don’t make your skin crawl as much anymore.” I smiled.“Oh how I wish I had never said or even thought such a thing,” she said.“Yeah, me too,” I said. She nodded, and the tears started to come again.“Look, Abigail. The things you’ve said to me and about me were mighty hurtful. But, I.