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Cerie craned her neck and surveyed the surroundings. The coast was clear. She quickly took off her clothes, folded them, and set them on the ground in a neat pile. Wearing only her shoes and socks, she crept towards her target. She watched her feet, careful to avoid stepping on anything that would make noise. After a tension filled minute, she reached her goal. Cerie peeked around the corner of the small shed. The gravel path behind it was empty. She closed her eyes, pressed her back against the wall, and strained her ears. Her heart pounded, sweat broke out along her brow and immediately cooled in the autumn air. A distant, soft crunch crunch caused her eyes to pop open. Cerie waited until the sound was at its loudest.

She stepped out, directly beneath the light mounted on a metal arm extending from the shed, lifted her phone, and snapped three pictures in rapid succession. The process was repeated twice more. With the muscles in her leg quivering and her hair sticking to the back of her neck, Cerie decided it was time to go. Patiently, she picked her way between the trees and shrubs to her clothes. Her shaky fingers struggled to fasten her bra. After the third muttered curse the hooks finally caught. Cerie blinked in confusion when she found her panties were missing. She looked around frantically and walked a small circle but couldn't find them anywhere. Her nerves screamed for her go to. Cerie hurriedly pulled on her pants and made her way to her car. She writhed in her seat as she waited for the light to change. It wasn't a matter of wanting to get home, she needed to get home.

Cerie bumped her front door closed with her hip, sprinted upstairs, and into the guest bedroom. She plugged her phone into her computer. Her thumbs caught the waistband of her pants and slid them down her legs. A slide show of pictures moved across the large screen. Her right hand found its place between her legs. She was still wet from her time in the park. Slender fingers rubbed a frantic circle as the glow from the screen illuminated the room.

The first picture showed her standing with a pouty look on her face next to a shed as a middle aged woman walked her dog in the background, completely unaware Cerie was standing only a few feet behind her stark naked. Cerie's other hand teased her nipple. A sharp, quick orgasm washed over her. She felt her toes curl and her back arch. Two smaller orgasms followed as she looked at the remaining pictures.

Feeling pleasantly exhausted, she slipped into bed and closed her eyes with a large smile on her face. The afterglow lasted through her shower the next morning and all the way to lunchtime. The first classes of the day couldn't diminish her well earned bliss. Things slowed down in the afternoon. A painfully awkward flirtation from the newest teacher did create a few moments of amusement. The final bell of the day rang. Cerie stood up and with a small smile announced, "All of you get out now. Go, follow knowledge like a sinking star."

As she performed a few small errands after work, a thought nagged at her. What had happened to her panties? She mulled over the question as she walked down the aisle. She plucked yogurt and fruit from the shelves as she passed. Maybe a breeze had carried them away? The notion struck her as unlikely. Maybe an animal had made off with them? She'd heard from her more nature friendly friends that squirrels and other critters could be very capable thieves. Her satiny panties might have made good nesting material. Neither thought assuaged the nagging feeling as she handed her money to the cashier.

Days slipped past and blended together. It was difficult to remember if Simon, her troublesome student, had annoyed her yesterday or two days ago. Bills arrived in the mail and as soon as she had dealt with them, more appeared. Cerie squirmed in her chair. She debated the idea with herself all morning but at lunch she came to a decision. In the evening she would indulge her hobby again. She looked out over her own savage race. They slept, fed, accepted her unequal law, and knew her not. At the moment they sat quietly, working on their assignments. It was all she could do not to shout at them to leave.

The bell sounded. She clapped her hands. "Time for you all to go. Drink life to the lees."

Lindsey Graham approached her desk. "Ms. Stone, I have a question."

Cerie intercepted the young woman and with a gentle hand on her shoulder steered her towards the door. "Can it wait for tomorrow?" she asked.

The pretty young woman's face scrunched up into a frown. "I guess so."

Cerie nodded as she gently pushed the student out the door. "Good, then I'll see you tomorrow and we'll deal with it then." The anxious teacher swept her belongings into her bag, not caring if she missed anything. As she turned, she had to come up short to prevent bumping into Kyle. His classroom was down the hall. He had a strong jaw, nice hair, and eyes the color of rich polished wood that were deep pools a woman could lose her soul in.

"So?" he asked.

Cerie was yanked back to reality. "Sorry, what?"

"Dinner on Saturday. Would you be interested?"

She swam in his eyes for several seconds before she shook her head, forcing out idle fantasies. "I'm sorry but dating coworkers is just a bad idea. I've seen it in action here a couple of times. No good comes of it."

Kyle smiled, put his hands in his pockets, and rocked up onto the balls of his feet. "OK, if we pretend for a moment were weren't colleagues, would you have considered my offer?"

Cerie laughed and patted a hand on his firm chest. "Yes, I would have considered it."

With a broad smile he turned and waved over his shoulder. "Have a good night. I'll see you tomorrow."

Students still cluttered the hallway as she made her exit and headed for her car.

"It's just not fair," she muttered as she slid her key into the car's ignition. "No man should have eyelashes that pretty."

At home, she changed clothes, grabbed a quick meal, and waited for dusk to deepen into night. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach as she walked through the park. She kept her eyes peeled for possible locations. It took three circuits of the park before she found the perfect spot. Her clothes stuck to her as she shrugged them off due to working up a light sweat while scouting. The walkway curved in a sharp turn behind her. Only one of the three light poles was working. Several deep pools of shadows allowed easy concealment. Cerie folded her clothes and set them aside. She crouched in the shadows and tried to control her breathing. A trickle of excitement slid down her spine and settled deep behind her navel.

As a jogger turned the corner, she stepped into the pool of light and snapped three photos before ducking back into the darkness. Heat flared in her middle. A young couple walking hand in hand passed by. Cerie snapped four photos after the couple passed. She completed three more sessions before she crept back to her clothes. As she dressed, she found her panties were missing. Her head whipped side to side as she sought a reason for the missing item. The surrounding darkness was perfectly still even the normal chatter of nocturnal insects was absent. The world seemed empty as she made her way to her car. Cerie didn't encounter another person nor did she hear anything aside from the usual city noises. Even the roads felt abandoned as she drove home.

The worry over the missing underwear was lost in a haze of lust as her fingers worked in frantic circles, alternating with an occasional tap, as the pictures moved across the screen. She bit her bottom lip and inhaled through her nose as her climax overtook her. Feeling delightfully sated, she made her way to bed.

Her sleep was disturbed by the screech of the alarm. She rolled out of bed and made her way to the bathroom. Multiple orgasms the night before, made facing the morning easy. She greeted her students with a smile on her face. Cerie even made idle chit chat with her coworkers during her lunch break.

The final bell rang. "Seek, strive, find, and never yield." Her students, looking beaten down, shuffled towards the door. Lindsey approached her and Cerie listened attentively to the student's concern. She offered several options as possible solutions. Young Lindsey left with an encouraged air. Cerie sat at her desk marking papers and struggling to find dinner ideas that didn't bore her.

"Hey," said Kyle.

She fought the impulse to straighten her clothes. He approached her desk with his hands in his pockets and looking slightly chagrined. She cocked her head to the side, wondering if she would have to rebuff another advance. It would be equal parts annoying and flattering.

Kyle held up his hands. "It's not that. You gave an answer and I'll respect that. I can't find my key to the supply closet. May I borrow yours?"

Cerie felt a pang of disappointment as she pulled open a desk drawer and searched for the requested object. Once she located it, she held it out clasped between her thumb and forefinger.

"Thanks," he said as he took the key and departed.

Cerie's focus returned to her work. She'd corrected two papers when someone knocked on her door. She gestured for the visitor to enter without looking up; the interruptions were beginning to grate on her nerves.

"Hello, Ms. Stone?" a young man asked.

Cerie's head jerked up. She tilted her head to the side and squinted. Offhand, she couldn't place the young man.

He noticed her blank stare. "I'm Wyatt Abernathy," he said.

She waved a hand. "I don't give extensions," she said as she returned to her work.

"I'm not here about that. I'm not in one of your classes."

Several memories snapped together. She'd taught him last year. He was a fairly attractive young man. She'd heard several of her younger coworkers tease one another about having a crush on him. His best attribute was his smile but he was thrifty with its use. Overall she'd found him an affable young man, intelligent but rather cold and detached. Cerie turned over the paper, set it aside, and started on the next one.

Wyatt cleared his throat. "I like going for walks at night."

"Uh, huh," she replied. Her pen ran dry. She pulled open her drawer but found only ones with blue or black caps. They wouldn't due. She wanted red. Cerie cursed under her breath, the time she needed that damn key she'd loaned it. A top line disposable pen with a red cap plopped down in front of her. She turned to look at Wyatt and found herself staring at his phone with an image of her standing stark naked in a park. Her two pairs of missing panties were sitting on the corner of her desk.

"Will you pay attention to me now?"

Cerie reached for the undergarments but he snatched them away. Fear made her chest tighten. She swallowed hard and felt cold sweat dampen her blouse under her arms. As the initial shock faded, anger surged, not focused at Wyatt but at herself.

"That's obviously not me. Showing people random pictures of women is a tad creepy Wyatt. You might want to talk to someone about that."

Wyatt looked annoyed. She picked up the pen, gripped it in both hands, and bent it against her thumbs. He was a student. She was an authority figure. It should be possible to use her position to bluff her way out of the situation.

Cerie waved a hand. "Give me your phone, I'll delete all the pictures, and we can pretend this never happened. I hope you understand the scope of my favor here."

Wyatt frowned and shook his head. "That's you. We both know it."

She thought a quick change of gears might catch him off guard. "Give me your phone to delete the pictures or I'll tell the police you're stalking me."

His cool facade cracked. She could see the uncertainty sweep through him. He took a step forward and extended the hand holding his phone. Cerie wanted to scream in triumph. As her hand reached for the phone, Wyatt frowned and pulled back. The worry had disappeared from his eyes.

"Well, in several of my photos you are holding your phone out in front of you. It's quite obvious you were taking a picture. To me, that smacks of you participating. If the police start digging, they'll discover that I've never called you and I'm willing to bet you've never complained to your bosses about me either." He took a deep breath. "So, if you go to the police I'll tell them I ran across you in the park, you got embarrassed, and are trying hide your little hobby by making me the bad guy. Regardless of who the police believe, I'm sure the press will love the story. Who do you think has more to lose in that situation? You or me?"

Cerie gritted her teeth. She was a hair away from screaming.

Wyatt sighed. "Look, I can see you're angry. Why don't we talk about this tomorrow when you've cooled off." He tucked his phone into his pocket and left without another word.

Cerie sat in silence for several minutes before she willed herself into action. She gathered up her belongings and made her way to the parking lot. The drive home was performed in a daze, twice she almost ran through a stop sign. The teacher paced her living room, throwing throw pillows against the wall hard enough to jolt two frames from their perches. She wiped away the tears with the palms of her hands. Part of the thrill of her hobby was the risk of discovery but she had never dreamed it would be something like this. She continued to pace and fret until she had expended all her emotional capital. Numb and feeling slightly nauseous, she crawled into bed.

The day was a trial of patience of epic proportions. She felt jittery and unsettled as if she had drank too much coffee, even though she'd only had a glass of juice. After the final bell, she paced in her room for thirty minutes. What had happened to Wyatt? Her imagination concocted scenarios of the pictures being found and distributed as she stood in her room waiting. Wyatt's mother had discovered his photos and was in the principal's office demanding her termination. Or the student was in the hall selling copies of the pictures to other kids. Her nerves got the best of her.

"Patience be damned," she mumbled to herself as she gathered her things and headed for the door. As her hand grabbed the knob, a knock came from the other side. She pulled the door open and Wyatt stepped inside. She closed the door behind him and leaned against it.

"Where have you been?" she hissed.

Wyatt shrugged. "I had other things to do."

Cerie desperately wanted to slap the young man. "What do you want?"

"I'm going to help you with your little hobby."

She lifted an eyebrow. "What do you mean by 'help'?"

"So, I take it we are beyond you saying 'no'?"

Cerie folded her arms over her chest. She was sure if she struck him the situation would only get worse, even if the act would be immensely rewarding. "Do I have a choice?"

"Of course you do. Whether or not you'd enjoy the ramifications is a whole other story."

She kicked at a floor tile with her shoe. "Fine."

"Good. We are going out tonight. I'll meet you at your place."

Stunned by his announcement she moved to the side and allowed him to open the door and leave. She gritted her teeth as she walked down the long hallway, a familiar trickle of excitement slid down her spine. Cerie made a brief stop at a pharmacy on her way home to get something to help settle her stomach. Fear fought with nervousness for dominance inside her while anticipation watched from the side. The chime of her doorbell made her jump. Wyatt filled her doorway.

"Ready, Ponytail?" he asked.

Cerie considered letting her hair down just to spite him. Starting the night with an act of defiance would firmly state her position. Instead she nodded and followed him outside.

He snapped his fingers and held out his hand. "Keys."

She stared out the passenger windows as he drove. She didn't want to acknowledge the presence of the young man, just as desperately -she didn't want to acknowledge the faint heat between her thighs. Her car eased into a parking spot and extinguished its headlight. Cerie looked around as she closed her door. She wasn't familiar with the park.

"This way," Wyatt said.

She followed behind him, her head on a swivel. He lead them behind a line of young pine trees and set down his bag.

"Lose the clothes," he ordered.

Cerie paused. He was a student. The implication of that settled heavily on her.

Wyatt cocked his head to the side. "What's wrong?"

"Aside from the obvious?"

The young man mulled it over for around a minute. "Ah, don't worry. I'm eighteen, not by much, but eighteen none-the-less. Now, lose the clothes."

Cerie sighed. "That wasn't my concern but at least that's one less criminal charge I have to worry about." She heard a soft whomp whomp sound as she tugged her shirt over her head. Wyatt took the garment from her hand and stuffed it into his back. The rest of her clothes followed in short order.

"You have a great ass."

Cerie snapped upright.

"Calm down, I've seen you naked already."

With her clothes tucked into his bag Wyatt led her around the far end of the line of trees. Cerie froze in her tracks. Two well lit tennis courts were in front of her. Couples in tidy white outfits hit bright yellow balls back and forth to each other.

"Turn around and smile," Wyatt ordered.

She turned to see her student, fully clothed, with a elaborate looking camera held up to his face. Her heart was pounding in her chest. She'd never tried anything this close to any place so well lit and full of people. If a stray ball bounced over the court's fence and landed anywhere near them, she would be seen. The warmth between her thighs grew into a smoldering heat.

Wyatt gestured impatiently with his hand. She forced a smile and heard the camera click.

"Relax," he hissed.

She took a deep breath and put her hand on hip.

"Better. Give me a pouty look."

Cerie narrowed her eyes and pushed out her bottom lip. It struck her as somewhat absurd. She was acting out a photo shoot while naked in a public place. A small part of her was thrilled by the concept. Seconds, along with the camera, ticked away as she moved from pose to pose. Beads of sweat rolled down her back and she knew her nipples were erect.

"Now, turn around, spread your feet a bit, and look over your shoulder."

Cerie did as she was instructed.

"Fantastic," Wyatt muttered under his breath.

She lost herself in the moment moving from pose to pose without being instructed.

"OK, time to go."

Wyatt's voice snapped her back to reality. They retreated behind the young pines and Cerie quickly pulled on her clothing. She took hurried steps as they emerged onto the wide plain of grass. Wyatt grabbed her wrist.

"Relax, act normal."

She took a deep breath and slowed her pace. The student's hand didn't leave her as they quietly walked to her parked car. She fidgeted in the seat during the drive home. There was only one thing on her mind during the trip. She danced with impatience as they stepped inside her door.

Wyatt fiddled around for a few minutes and handed her a memory stick. "Here are your copies. Enjoy."

She was on her way to the spare bedroom before the front door clicked closed. Her computer took forever to start as she slid her pants and panties down out of the way. Wyatt's pictures where sharper, better lit, and had a grittier feel than hers. As her fingers worked their magic, it struck her that she even looked pretty. Her toes had curled and her back arched before she was halfway through the pictures. Wyatt had pushed her limits and she was partly ashamed at how thoroughly she had responded. A heavy sense of guilt helped to weigh down her eyelids as she pulled the cover up to her chin.

A warm, fuzzy afterglow carried her through the next day. Cerie found herself smiling as images of her last outing flashed through her mind. The remainder of the week slipped into normalcy. By Friday trivial annoyances nipped at her heels. The weekend was filled with unrewarding menial tasks and errands.

The final bell rang on Monday. She stood and swung her arm at her door. "Storm out with shot and shell. Ride boldly." As the students filed past Darren Dalton mumbled "Theirs not to reason why. Theirs but to do and die." Cerie smiled, that young man had just earned himself some extra credit. Hot tea washed over her tongue as she reviewed her lesson plans for the upcoming week. The knock startled her and she almost choked on the Darjeeling blend. Wyatt stood just inside the doorway.

"Tonight. Your place," was all he said before departing.

Thankfully, the hall appeared empty so she hoped no one had seen Wyatt enter her room. She tried to resume her work but her applecart had been upset. She gathered her things and headed to the parking lot.

Apprehension and anticipation played tug-of-war within her. She ate a light dinner, concerned that anything heavy might make her sick. After changing clothes, she sat on the couch and forced herself to be still. Her doorbell rang and it took all her self-control not to run to the door.

Wyatt held out his hand. "Keys," he ordered.

Cerie followed him to the car and sat quietly in the passenger seat. Each time a car passed she cringed, sure that the driver recognized a student was driving her car. When a car approached on her side, she looked down at the floorboards and turned her head toward Wyatt. She was still hiding her face when the engine turned off. Wyatt said nothing before stepping out of the car. She followed, still attempting to will herself anonymous. Cerie was so absorbed in hiding she bumped into Wyatt's back. The young man pulled his camera from his bag.

"Here?" she hissed.

They were standing in a narrow alley. Only three buildings down were a small well-lit market and a fairly busy liquor store. The mouth of the alley was directly exposed to the street. Occasionally a car drove past. The only saving grace was the street light directly over them had burned out. Wyatt connected his camera to a tripod and set it on the inside edge of the sidewalk.

Her inaction generated an annoyed look and an impatient wave of the hand. Wyatt took her clothes and stuffed them into his bag. She was allowed to keep her knit tuque. Her twin braids peeked out from underneath framing her face. Wyatt stood to the side, a remote for his camera in hand

Cerie smiled and posed through several series of pictures. She turned around, put her hands against the old brick wall, and pushed her backside out. Wyatt smiled and shook his head.

"Face the camera, squat down, and keep your legs open," he said.

She mulled over the requested pose. It was so brazen. All of her charms would be fully exposed to the camera. She shivered as a surge of excitement ran through her. Cerie squatted down and spread her knees wide. Shame welled up in her. The embarrassed teacher closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the wall. The camera clicked in rapid succession. She imagined how she must look, like one of those women in the men's magazines. Her teeth trapped her bottom lip to prevent a moan from escaping.

Ceria felt Wyatt move close to her. She opened her eyes to see his penis, pulled through the fly of his jeans.

"What are you doing?" she asked aghast.

"Suck it," he said.

"No!"

He rolled his eyes. "Like it's much worse than what we've been doing."

She placed a hand on his thigh to push him away. "You're a student."

"With lots of pictures of you naked." Wyatt shook the bag that contained her clothing.

A car drove by, its headlights temporarily bathing them in light. The young man had a point; control of the situation had slipped out her hands long ago.

"The faster you start the faster we can go," he said.

She swallowed and took the head into her mouth. He began to harden against her tongue. Cerie shifted to obtain a more comfortable angle.

"Keep your legs open," he said and much to her chagrin, she complied.

She rubbed the underside of the helmet with the tip of her tongue until she heard Wyatt sigh. Cerie moved her head forward and had to stop her free hand from moving between her legs. The snapping of the camera sounded like peels of thunder. Each click resonated between her legs like thumping bass at a concert resonated in her chest. Without realizing, she was actively bobbing her head up and down on the student. The sounds of the automatic door sliding open and the mumble of conversations drifted up the street. Each nearby sound felt like an electric shock snapping against her skin. Her braids tapped against her as she moved. She heard the sound of car tires on the street behind her.

Wyatt tapped her shoulder. "They stopped," he hissed. He pulled out of her mouth with an audible pop and handed her the bag as he went to retrieve the camera.

As they had discussed earlier she retreated into the darker depths of the alley to redress. A dark blue sedan backed into view. The driver rolled down his window and stuck his head out, squinting into the mouth of the alley. Fully dressed, she followed Wyatt deeper into the alley. They slipped away into the night without being noticed.

Her heart thumped in her chest and the sound of rushing blood filled her ears. She took quick, gulping breaths. The taste of Wyatt was still on her tongue as she moved it around in her mouth. It wasn't unpleasant. In her driveway, the young man with a noticeable bulge still present in the front of his pants handed her copies of the photos and then walked off into the night.

Ceria threw her head back and gave a cry. On the screen in front of her was a photo from Wyatt's camera. At the left edge she was squatting with her knees wide apart, folds of her labia were visible, while Wyatt's cock was wedged deeply in her mouth. On the right side of the photo, a stretch of the street and the two storefronts were clearly visible. A man was leaving the grocery store with a plastic bag in hand while an older woman with grey hair done up in a bun was entering, and leaning next to the door of the liquor store was a young man barely in his twenties. Cerie looked at the photos and teased herself for three hours before a sore wrist encouraged her to seek her bed.

A lingering tickle of excitement, at almost being caught lingered with her for four days. During her outings, the world seemed vibrant and alive. As those times faded, her surroundings felt drab, the colors around her muted. On the duller days, she found herself standing in the hallway next to her door. Hoping for a glimpse of her accomplice as he walked to class. A secretive smile or look might give a hint to what lie in store As Friday passed and she failed to encounter the young man frustration began to take root and blossom. When the bell rang she leaned back against her desk and flung her arms towards the door, "Out damned spots. Out!"

Light grey clouds greeted her sleepy yawn on Saturday morning. A general malaise had taken her by the scruff of the neck and shaken her thoroughly. Her eyes stayed glued to her clock, promising herself she would depart her couch and spring into action in ten minutes, then ten more, and ten after that.

She gasped at the sound of the doorbell. Cerie covered the distance in two bounding steps. She swung the door back and revealed Wyatt standing on her porch. She blinked in surprise. The young man was standing on her porch in broad daylight.

He made a beckoning gesture. "Come on, we're going shopping."

"I have errands," she stammered.

He rolled his eyes. She felt disregarded, like a bratty younger sister.

"Do them later. Let's go."

She sat with her hands in her lap as they drove on the highway.

"Remove your bra," he said.

"Why?"

He sighed and shook his head. "Because."

She reached behind her back to undo the hook.

"No, take of your shirt, then remove your bra."

"No way. Someone might see me."

Wyatt gave her an impatient look.

"It's a Saturday afternoon, in broad day light no less."

The young man sighed again. "That's the point. Why are you acting like you don't like it?" Wyatt changed lanes to ensure all passing traffic would be on her side of the car.

Cerie gave an indignant sniff and tugged her shirt over her head. She made quick work of the bra hook and slid it off her shoulders. Before her bra hit the floorboard, a semi-truck passed, and as the cab pulled even with her window she heard the horn of the truck blare. Her cheeks burned as she pulled the shirt over her head and tugged it down to her waist. Wyatt's smile was one of pure amusement. Not wanting her powder blue bra to be visible she tucked it under her seat. She was mortified when she noticed her nipples were straining the fabric of her shirt. Every time the car jolted, she felt her breasts bounce. Even though she was clothed, she felt exposed sitting next to the young man in such a confined space. She turned to face the window, not wanting to see if Wyatt was watching her freely moving chest.

The sedan pulled into a moderately sized shopping mall. The parking lot was filled with men, women, teenagers, and families going about their business. Cerie's mind raced. Surely they weren't going to try something here? Wyatt opening her door snapped her back to reality. She followed him as he left the car and approached a clothing store. The double doors slid apart as the pair entered. She stayed a step behind Wyatt as he led her to the women's section.