There were no close calls when Alex got home after her appointment with James. Her parents, fools that they were, were already asleep. She simply slipped into the house, padded upstairs, and went to bed with a smug smile on her face. The mask of the goody-two-shoes girl slipped seamlessly back in place, and remained in place until her appointment with Jason on Wednesday. Jason was a new client, and that made it even more exciting for Alex. She couldn't wait to discover what kind of man he was and what kinks he had. Would he be as wild as James or more subdued? She knew he was in his late twenties, unmarried, and lived in a penthouse downtown. That was all she knew, and the mystery of it all was thrilling.

Jason was waiting to unlock the door for her when she arrived. He was tall, very tall, at least six and a half feet, and broad-shouldered. His hair was a dark brown and a little on the shaggy side, and he had a beard that was well-kept but definitely not something you'd see on the cover of GQ. He was dressed casually in a pair of dark blue jeans and a white button-down shirt that was unbuttoned at the top to reveal a glimpse of chest hair.

"Thanks for letting me in," Alex chirped as she walked inside. "You must be Jason."

"The one and only," he said with a smirk, closing the door behind her. "I've been looking forward to this. All the reviews on your profile made me hard just thinking about what you could do to me. You've racked up a lot of praise in a pretty short amount of time."

"What can I say?" Alex giggled. "I always try to be the best at everything I do, and that includes giving the best service to my clients. I'll never understand why some people claim being an escort is degrading or slutty. For me, it's just another way to be top of the class. I love meeting new people and having new experiences, but more than anything, I fucking love the freedom."

"I can see that," Jason said, his eyes traveling up and down her body, taking in her tight, black dress that left nothing to the imagination. "I've got to admit, I've been thinking about this all week. Would it be too risky to blow me while we're on the elevator?"

"Too risky? Not risky enough!" Alex retorted and dropped to her knees as soon as the elevator doors dinged shut. She unzipped Jason's pants and pulled out his cock, already standing at full attention. He was definitely more endowed than James, and she couldn't help but lick her lips in anticipation. Alex made sure to look him in the eyes as she began sucking him off like a pro.

"That's a good whore," Jason said, his breath hitching. "Fuck, yeah. You don't mind me calling you that, do you?"

Alex shook her head. Why would she be offended? It was true. She was a whore. A high-class call girl. A paid plaything for men like James and Jason. And she liked it. "Not at all," she murmured, momentarily tearing her lips away from his shaft. "It's not like it's untrue. I am a whore, Jason, and I'm fucking proud of it. I love this life, and I won't apologize for it to anyone."

"Mm, you're right," Jason groaned, his hand coming up to tangle in Alex's hair. "God, you're a natural at this! I'm gonna blow my load already! Don't swallow it though, okay? I wanna see it smeared all over your pretty little face."

Alex nodded and redoubled her efforts, her cheeks hollowing as she took him deep into her throat, her teeth scraping the sensitive skin of his shaft. She felt his cock swelling like a balloon. She knew what was about to happen, and a second later it did.

Jason grunted as his cock spurted hot cum into her mouth. Alex pulled away, letting the thick ropes of semen fly across her cheeks, nose, and chin. She felt a thrill of power at the sight of his desire painted across her face and giggled as the elevator doors opened onto the penthouse suite, the taste of him still lingering on her tongue.

"You like rough treatment?" Jason asked as he all but dragged her into his apartment.

"I can handle it," Alex said, tilting her head in challenge.

"You don't mind if I smack you around? Smack your face, your tits, your ass?" His eyes were dark with lust, and Alex could feel the excitement pulsing through her body.

"Bring it on," she shot back.

His hand shot out, delivering a stinging slap to her cheek. Alex yelped with surprise and a little bit of pain, but she liked it. It made her feel alive. She clutched her cheek, only for him to clamp a hand around her throat and all but drag her into his bedroom. "You're mine tonight," he growled, his voice low and filled with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine. "Got it?"

Alex nodded. He slapped her again and shoved her onto her back. "Spread your legs, whore," Jason snarled. "Who's a worthless piece of fuck-meat?"

Alex obeyed, her legs quivering with anticipation. "I am," she chirped. "I'm your worthless fuck-meat."

Jason smirked as he stripped off his clothes. His cock was already hard again, standing proud and thick. "Did you always want to be a worthless piece of fuck-meat, whore?"

Alex licked her lips, feeling the stickiness of his cum. "No," she answered. "But it's what I've become. And honestly, I love it."

He slapped her a third time. "Say it," he demanded.

"I'm a worthless piece of fuck-meat," Alex giggled as he rammed his dick into her. "I'm yours to do whatever you want with, Jason!"

"You're fucking right you are!" He began thrusting away, and Alex gloried in the familiar feel of a nice hard cock pounding into her cunt. She would never, ever get tired of that feeling of completeness, the sensation of being used so completely and utterly. The bed rocked and squealed with their movements, and she knew the neighbors were definitely hearing them. But she didn't care. That was part of the thrill.

He slapped her breasts hard enough to make them start reddening like ripe pomegranates. Alex arched her back, her eyes rolling back in her head as she reveled in the pain. It was a delicious agony that sent shock waves of pleasure down to her core. "Fuck me harder!" she begged. "Make me scream!"

Jason obliged, his hand coming down again and again as he hammered into her. She could feel her pussy stretching to accommodate him and his balls slapping against her ass. His breath was hot on her neck, his teeth grazing her skin as he bit down hard enough to leave marks. And all the while, his cock was like a piston in her cunt, never stopping, never slowing. It was all Alex could do to keep from blacking out from the sheer force of it all.

"Fucking slut," he growled. "You dirty fucking whore. You filthy little slut." He grabbed her throat and shook her hard. "You love it, don't you? You piece of human trash!"

Alex laughed. "You're goddamn right I do! I love what I do, and I wouldn't do anything else!" She tilted her chin up defiantly. "I'm not ashamed of what I do. It's my body, my choice, my money, and my fucking fun!"

He slapped her again, hard enough to make her eyes water. "Whores don't get to speak unless I tell them to," Jason hissed. "Now, shut the fuck up and take this dick like the good little slut you are, you worthless cum rag!"

Alex's cheeks burned with both pain and excitement, but she refrained from speaking as Jason rutted her like a crazed animal. He was a beast, sure enough. There was no gentleness, no tenderness in the way he claimed her body. His grip was tight enough to leave bruises behind come morning and her face would no doubt be a canvas of red handprints by the end of the night. But she didn't care. If anything, it only made her wetter, hotter, needier.

"Worthless fucking whore," he went on, spouting a litany of insults and degradation as he fucked her relentlessly. "You're a fucking waste of oxygen, you know that? Such a useless, worthless, brainless cocksleeve! Nothing but a piece of meat to be fucked and used!"

Alex couldn't agree more. She'd never felt more alive than when she was on her back, legs spread, being fucked like there was no tomorrow. She reveled in the pain, the pleasure, the raw power that coursed through her as Jason took her roughly. It was the ultimate rush, the ultimate high.

She wasn't ashamed of being called a whore. After all, that's what she was. A very classy, elegant whore, but a whore nonetheless. And she liked it. No, she loved it. The power, the control she had over these men, the way they looked at her with hunger in their eyes, the way they paid for her time and her body...she never got tired of the thrill of that. It never got old or boring, no matter how many times she went to a booking. Alex loved being able to give these men companionship and company and pleasure, but even more than that, even more than the money, it was all about the sex for her. Alex was hooked on sex more than any addict ever got hooked on a drug. Even going for a few days without some dick was becoming torture for her.

Sweat dripped down onto her from Jason's forehead, mixing with the saliva and cum already coating her face. Veins stood out in his neck and his grip on her tightened enough to make her cry out. Alex could sense his imminent orgasm.

"YOU! FUCKING! WHORE!" Jason shouted, and then his cock spasmed deep inside her, filling her with hot cum. Alex arched her back and screeched, her own orgasm tearing her world apart. As the tremors of pleasure subsided, she felt him slump over her, his breathing heavy and ragged.

There were no words, no kisses, no pillow talk. They just lay there, his half-softened cock still inside her, until he finally caught his breath enough to speak.

"Get the fuck out," Jason rasped. "Your fee is on the counter. Get the fuck outta here, whore."

Alex giggled. "So romantic," she teased sarcastically.

Jason just grunted and pulled out, slapping her ass as he stood up. Alex felt his warm seed dribbling out of her and she smirked to herself. Her body felt used and tired, but it was a good feeling, like a workout at the gym that left your muscles feeling sore. She wiped off her face, cleaned herself up, and put her clothes back on. It was only when she was dressed and had her fee in hand that she turned back to him.

"Thanks for the amazing time," she said with a wink. "You know where to find me next time you need some 'fuck-meat' to play with."

Jason's flipped her off. "Fuck you, whore. Just make sure you don't leave any of your skank DNA behind."

Alex laughed as she walked out with the wad of cash in her hand. She wasn't hurt by Jason's words or his actions. This was just another night of work, and she knew that not all clients would be like James, who had treated her like a delicate doll. Some would treat her like the whore she was, and she was okay with that. It was all part of the job. She took professional pride in her ability to handle any kind of client, any kind of situation.

That was why she was so excited to participate in the sex demonstration the as-yet-nameless biology teacher had booked her for. Alex had never done anything like that so far and she was thrilled at the prospect of doing something new and challenging. She'd always had a bit of an exhibitionist streak since the start of her escorting career, and the idea of fucking in front of a whole class of teenagers was definitely pushing her boundaries. But that was what she loved about the job: the constant thrill of the unknown and the chance to explore her own sexuality in new and exciting ways. Every booking was a potential new adventure, a new depth of depravity and sexual exploration to explore. Alex was, and felt like, a sexual pioneer, conquering new frontiers of pleasure every night.

She felt some of Jason's cum trickling down her leg as she walked down the street and giggled. Another night, another successful booking!

After that, the rest of the week went by in something of an indistinct blur. Her car date with Carlos was fun but nothing remarkable, much like Carlos himself. He picked her up at a previously agreed rendezvous location outside a local eatery, then drove to a mostly-empty parking garage downtown. After that, Alex pulled her panties down—she’d been still wearing her school uniform at the time, took out his cock, and straddled him as he sat in the front seat. A heartbeat later, Carlos’s cock was pumping into her and Alex was riding him like a horse at a gallop.

It had been hard, fast, dirty, and fun—just the way Alex preferred it. She got off twice as she strummed her clit, and again as he came deep inside her young, gorgeous body. Alex knew that most escorts eschewed creampies, but she just loved the feeling of cum blasting into her eager, hungry cunt. It never failed to get her across the finish line to the Big O.

Her parents were still, somehow, completely oblivious about what their precious little girl was doing. Their obliviousness was breathtaking, and Alex secretly took great satisfaction in how good she was getting at pulling the wool over their eyes. Once, the idea of lying to her parents filled her with guilt. Now, she delighted in it. It was harder to find an excuse to skip school so she could make her “biology lesson” booking than it was to keep her parents, who prided themselves on knowing everything that went on under their roof, completely in the dark.

The excuse Alex eventually settled on was one of the classics: a doctor’s appointment. For most students, the receptionist in the front office would call their parents before letting them go, in order to make sure they weren’t trying to cut class and they actually did have a doctor’s appointment to keep. But Alex was the school goody-two-shoes, the girl who lived and even breathed the rules. The very idea of her doing anything remotely nefarious was unthinkable. So the receptionist took her excuse at face value, just as Alex knew she would, and Alex walked out of the school struggling to contain her laughter.

The school where she would fuck a guy in front of a classroom full of students was located on the other side of town. Alex didn’t think she’d run into anyone she knew, but she decided to be careful all the same. I haven’t managed to keep my new life a secret by taking stupid risks, she thought. Thankfully, she had a pair of sunglasses and a baseball cap in her backpack. These helped to disguise her, as did the fact that she was visiting this campus in the capacity of a teen prostitute and not, say, an aspiring future student on a routine college tour. There was a different posture she wore when she needed to be unremarkable. Blank-faced, hunched forward just enough to pass for shy. She’d had a lot of practice at it by now.

It worked. Nobody looked twice at her as she wove her way through the unfamiliar halls, keeping to the shade along the edges, and made her way to the room number she’d been given. It was near the science wing of the school, Room 233, and when she got there the classroom was empty and the teacher was waiting.

The teacher was an older woman in her late 50s with a severe bob and the kind of patterned skirt you only saw teachers and Sunday School matrons wear. She looked up from her laptop with a flicker of impatience and a flash of deep-set, shrewd curiosity. She paused just inside the door, running a quick inventory: nameplate (Stinson, L.), single wedding band, stack of meticulously graded lab reports, and a battered leather satchel on the floor by her desk. An old pro, Alex thought.

“Ah, you’re here,” the teacher said. “Excellent, thank you for coming.” She extended a hand, and said, “You must be Alex.”

Alex shook the offered hand. “Nice to meet you.”

The teacher gestured to one of the lab tables in the front row. “Please, sit. There are just a few things I’d like to go over with you before my students get here.”

Alex nodded and sat on the edge of the table.

“Ours is a very advanced group,” said the teacher. “Some of the students are participating for extra credit, others are members of the Health Academy. This is a mature audience, but do remember, they’re still high schoolers. Your age, mostly.”

“Who will I be fucking?” Alex inquired.

“You’ll be paired with Dylan Smith today.” She’s back at her laptop now, half her attention on the screen, but her tone is brisk and professional, like she’s running down a checklist. “He’s a bright young man but does have some trouble…settling down. I hope you’ll be a good influence.”

“And my compensation?”

“You’ll be paid at the end, never fear—cash only, as you requested.”

“Great!” Alex chirped. “How do you want to begin when it’s time to start?”

“I’ll begin by introducing you before moving onto a brief discussion about safe sexual practices, consent, and general sexual health,” the teacher said, “and then we’ll proceed with the demonstration. You may remain clothed to begin with, if you’d prefer—I care little as long as you remain professional.”

“I’ll be totally professional,” Alex said, her expression growing serious. “I love what I do, and I’m really good at it. You can ask any of my clients.”

“Indeed. That’s why I hired you—the agency said you’re one of their best.” The teacher paused. “Are you nervous?”

“Nope.” It was probably the most honest thing Alex said that whole week. In fact, after the last few months, this felt more like actual schoolwork than anything else. She was more anxious about someone back at her own school seeing her than she was about banging a stranger in front of thirty-odd people.

A bell rings somewhere in the depths of the building. The teacher stands, closes her laptop with a decisive click, and moves to the door. “It’s time. Please get ready.”

“I was born ready,” Alex winked.

Within moments students began to file in. They’re all seniors, mostly boys, with a few overachieving girls sprinkled here and there. As they trickled into the classroom, she saw their faces run the usual spectrum: the jocks whispering conspiratorially, the tangle-haired stoners slouching with t-shirted bravado, and the STEM clubbers with their laser-honed hunger for any data, even the very naked kind. The girls were harder to read; some were already rolling their eyes, and others avoided looking at her altogether.

Alex scanned their faces but didn’t recognize anyone, to her relief. The teacher cleared her throat.

“Welcome, everyone. As you know, today is a very special session. We’re going to be continuing our unit on human sexuality, focusing today on some of the interpersonal and technical aspects that are not adequately covered in your textbook. As always, we will maintain an atmosphere of professionalism and respect, but I do expect mature engagement. All questions will be answered with scientific accuracy, and today’s demonstration is intended to educate you as future adults and, for some of you, aspiring health professionals. Please be courteous to our guest, as she’s an expert and has generously agreed to assist our learning. It is a privilege, not a right, to participate in a demonstration such as this, so I expect maturity and respect from everyone. Understood?”

A dull cacophony of yeah and mmhmm rumbles from the mass of adolescent humanity

She looked straight at me with the tiniest twitch of her left eyebrow, as if to say: the floor’s yours.

Alex walked up to the front, unhurried, giving herself time to read the room. She liked to think she’d become pretty good at stage-managing male attention, but here it was complicated by the intense, predatory focus of the future scientists. They wanted to see her not just naked, but under the microscope. She could feel their curiosity flicker like static in the air, more clinical than carnal at first.

The teacher motioned to her. “This is Alex. She’s a professional sex worker, and she’s here to provide an accurate, firsthand perspective on safe sex, communication, and physical technique.”

There were some scandalized mutters from the girls. Alex barely suppressed a giggle. She always got such a kick out of the way people reacted when they found out what she did for a living. She cleared her throat. “Hey, everyone! So, yeah, like, I’m Alex and I’m a professional escort. I like to think of what I do as making people feel happy and confident, and sometimes that means being naked in front of a bunch of strangers, like today.” A bit of laughter from the back of the room, mostly nervous, but she pushes through. “I’m chill with any questions, so don’t be shy. That’s what sex ed is supposed to be about, right?”

No one seemed ready to fill the silence yet, so she kept the floor. “Anyway, today is about the realities of sex, not the stuff they show in porn or what you hear in the locker room. If any of you are thinking, ‘But isn’t this weird? Shouldn’t we just be reading about it?’—well, the answer is yes, it’s a little weird, but also no, because biology is best learned hands-on. And sometimes you just need to see how things actually look and feel, not just what you read about. Oh, and if anyone has any questions that are, like, super explicit? Don’t be shy. That’s what I’m here for.”

One girl raised her hand.

“Is it…does it feel, you know, degrading?” she asked, blushing. “Doing what you do, Alex?”

Alex didn’t hesitate for a nanosecond. “You know, everyone always asks me that. And honestly, well, I can’t speak for everyone who goes into this business, but for me, I honestly don’t feel degraded at all. I feel… powerful. Like, these people want something, and I’m the only one who can give it to them. And not just sex, but, like, the whole thing—attention, understanding, even affection sometimes. Sure, some clients are assholes. But those are easy to deal with, and most of them are just lonely, or nervous, or dumbly grateful that someone as cute as me is willing to listen to their problems and also fuck their brains out. Some people might say that makes me trashy, but I’m not the one who’s ashamed.” She let that hang in the air until she saw a few nods—some of the jocks, one or two of the girls. “So, yeah. Not degrading for me. Not even a bit.”

Another hand shot up, this time one of the jocky boys in a faded lacrosse hoodie. “Do you, uh, ever get like…creepy old guys?”

“Sometimes! But honestly, the college kids and young professionals are way dumber about boundaries. The older ones are more polite, usually.” That got a ripple of laughter, a little less nervous this time. “Plus, if someone’s actually creepy, I just tell my agency and they’re blacklisted. I’ve never had a problem. Safety is the first thing I learned—in fact, your teacher here made safety basically the entire first section of this little workshop.” She gave a goofy thumbs-up to Ms. Stinson, who replied with a thin, knowing smile before taking a seat at the back.

Hands shot up then, and for the next five minutes she fielded everything from “Do you really get paid a thousand dollars a night?” (not always, but yes, sometimes) to What’s the weirdest thing anyone’s asked you to do?” (once, a businessman asked me to help him re-enact his wedding night).”

Even the girls get bolder. One of them, hair dyed the purple of rebellion, leaned in and asked, “How do you, like, keep from getting attached?”

She smiled for real then, because that was the first question that actually fazed her.

“The answer is, you can’t, not totally, unless you’re some kind of robot. Even if you’re just seeing a client for an hour, there’s this moment, especially when you’re really doing a good job, when you’re both totally in it. And it’s real. Then when you leave, you just… put it away. Compartmentalize. I treat it like it’s a dream—you know, like, you wake up and remember it was intense, but it’s not your life anymore.” She shrugged. “Some clients get attached and want it to be more. That does get complicated. But I always remind myself: their feelings belong to them, not me.”

“Thank you, Alex,” said the teacher. “I think we are ready to begin now. Dylan, please come to the front of the class.”

Alex gave the young man a once-over as he stood from his desk, blushing furiously, and came to stand next to her. He was cute, in a boy-next-door sort of way. He avoided Alex’s eyes at first, then shot her a quick, sheepish look. Alex immediately dubbed him “Puppy-boy” in her head because of the way his brown hair curled over his ears and the helpless, wide-eyed look he wore, like he’d just been adopted from the shelter and wasn’t sure yet if he was going to get yelled at or offered a treat. His nervousness was actually a little endearing. God, I hope he’s not going to cum in his pants before I even get his zipper down.

Ms. Stinson slid a condom over to her. “Alex, you may begin.”

“Sure thing.” Alex cleared her throat. “So, sex. The first thing you gotta know is consent, consent, consent. When you think you’re about to get laid, always make sure everybody’s on the same page and nobody ends up feeling gross or pressured. That’s true for everyone, and anyone who tells you otherwise is either lying or about to catch a sexual harassment lawsuit. Not fun.” She giggled. “So, before you even start taking off clothes, you want to talk about what you both want, and what you definitely don’t want. Sometimes,” she added raising an eyebrow at the classroom, “it’s easier to talk about what’s off-limits than what you’re into, especially when you’re shy or new to this. Like my new friend Dylan here. Dylan, anything you don’t want to do today?”

He laughs weakly. “Uh…not really?”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Alex winked. “Now, assuming you’re all on the same page and you’re both eager to get things going, let’s talk about foreplay. Foreplay’s important. I speak from experience. It sets the tone, it helps you and your fuck-buddy get comfy with each other, and breaks the ice. A kiss is a great way to start, and there are some things you gotta know about how to do it properly. I’ll demonstrate.” She beckoned at Dylan. “C’mere, you.”

Dylan obeyed, his face red-hot. “Now,” Alex continued. “The key to a good kiss is confidence and not, like, mauling the other person’s face. In movies they always look like they’re going to gnaw each other to death, which is hot for movies but usually less so in real life.” There was a snicker from the back. She glanced at Dylan and give him a reassuring smile. “Want to show everyone how it’s done?”

He nods and leans forward. For a second, she thought he was going to totally chicken out, but he surprised her—a soft press, tentative, lips barely parted. He tasted a little like cinnamon gum. It was a minor effort not to take over, but Alex resisted. “See that?” She said, breaking contact and turning to the class. “He didn’t go all tongue-monster on the first try. That’s good! Let it happen naturally. Don’t come in like you’re eating a sandwich. Keep it gentle until you’re sure your partner’s into more.” She took his chin in her hand so his eyes would focus on hers instead of the thirty pairs watching them, and she kissed him. Just lightly at first, then Alex let it deepen, her tongue tracing the seam of his lips until he got brave and kissed back.

When she finally broke away, she said, “See how he didn’t try to jam his tongue down my throat? Bonus points. And he didn’t start groping me before I was ready—that’s what you want! Mutual, step-by-step, everybody in sync.” Alex gave Dylan an encouraging pat on the shoulder, then turned to the teacher. “With your permission, I’d like to kiss him some more, then move on to the more adult stuff and undress.”

The teacher nodded, and Alex smiled up at Dylan. “It’s okay,” she said softly, and in her regular voice, she added, “Words of affirmation are also a huge plus. Watch.”

She cupped his face. “You’re so cute, Dylan. Don’t be shy or afraid, okay, baby? You’re doing great.” The tension in his shoulders eased, and his lips pulled up in a hopeful, lopsided smile. Alex could practically hear the collective sigh of relief from the girls’ row.

“Now, a lot of you might think the only point of making out is to get to the main event,” Alex said, moving on to the next part. “But if you slow down, you can make it a lot better. Watch.” She ran her fingertips under the hem of his t-shirt, just barely grazing his stomach; when his whole body tensed, a soft involuntary noise escaped him—a little gasp, a sharp intake of breath. “The simple act of touching can be just as pleasurable to a guy—or a girl—as sucking his cock or eating her pussy out.” She ran her hands through his hair. “You’re so cute,” she said, and the girls in the room collectively pretended not to notice how red his ears got. She let her fingernails trail up his neck, then leaned in and bit his lower lip, not hard but with enough intent that he shuddered. “Still good?”

He nods, his voice a rough whisper. “Yeah.”

She smiled. “Okay. Want to keep going?”

Dylan nodded, still shy but less petrified now, and the class giggled nervously. There was a weird kind of solidarity in the air, like we’re all sharing this strange and forbidden moment together. Alex knew, from the way his fingers twitched, that he wanted to touch her but was terrified to move.

“Don’t worry,” she said, and took his arms, guiding his hands to her waist. She exaggerated the slow, deliberate process of slipping off her blazer and unbuttoning her blouse. Alex slid the white blouse off her shoulders and, for dramatic effect, let it drop behind her, pooling on the cold black countertop.

Alex heard a gasp, and then another, when the class saw she was already not wearing a bra. Not that I have huge breasts or anything, she thought, a little ruefully. Frankly, I look like a poster for the “before” photo in some Instagram influencer’s boob job ad. But her nipples had always been super sensitive, and as she ran her thumb around the edge of one she felt herself light up, an electric shock straight to her core.

“Sorry I’m not super busty,” she quipped, rolling her eyes at the giggling from the back. “But less to get in the way, amiright?” Alex guided Dylan’s hands up so his fingers are just barely brushing the skin at the side of her breasts, and she spoke directly to the class: “Pro tip, my dudes: a lot of guys think it’s sexy to just grab a girl’s tits like they’re stress balls. But trust me, if you want her to actually enjoy it, you go slow and pay attention to what she likes.” She moved his hand in slow circles, and Dylan’s eyes were laser-locked on her chest.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed.

Alex grinned, she knew he meant it. Not just horny flattery, but that stunned, grateful awe some guys get the first time a half-naked girl really lets them look. The only thing better than being wanted is being worshipped. “Thank you, Dylan. You’re not so bad yourself.” She shot him a wink and leaned in, brushing her nipple against the back of his hand. He shivered again.

“Okay, let’s keep going,” Alex said, and slid her skirt down to the floor with the practiced, lazy confidence of a girl who’d done this a hundred times. “Another tip—don’t ignore the rest of the body just to get someone undressed, and don’t rush. It’s like opening a present: half the fun is building suspense.” She let her fingers trail up her own thigh, then took Dylan’s shaky hand and rested it just above her knee. “See? Little steps. If you’re gentle, it makes all the difference.”

She pulled her panties down and casually stepped out of them, fully naked now. Dylan looked like he might pass out. She let the silence grow a second or two, for dramatic effect, before running her palm down his arm, slow as honey.

“Now, let’s talk about what happens next,” she said, looking out over the class. “Like, what if you want to do more than just make out? What if you want to, you know, fuck?”

“First, condoms,” Alex said firmly. She picked up the little foil wrapper the teacher had set out and held it up for the class. “Now, before putting it on, always check for rips or weirdness. Bad condoms are rare, but so are lottery winners, and you don’t want to gamble with your insurance policy. No glove, no love, as the old saying goes. Dylan, would you be comfortable helping me show everyone how to put a condom on?”

Dylan nodded, shaky but game. Alex cracked the wrapper between her fingers, pinching the condom so it came out in a neat little roll. “All right, first thing you want to do is make sure you’re putting it on in the right direction—tip up, like a tiny party hat.” That got a weak laugh from the back of the room, which is exactly what she was going for. Alex made eye contact with the girls in the front row, and a few of them smiled, less nervous now. “Then, you want to pinch the tip so there’s room for, you know, the goods.”

She squatted down, and Dylan, cheeks flaming, fumbled at his fly. For a blip of a second there was dead air; she heard the fan spinning behind the teacher’s desk, the soft click of someone’s pen two rows back. Dylan was all business, military-precision, but his hands couldn’t quite keep up with his brain, and the zipper caught on the button, so Alex leaned over and helped. It was one of those weird moments that was more clinical than sexual: her hand, steady, pulling the button open, then tugging his jeans down just low enough that his cock sprang out into the air.

He has a nice dick, honestly, Alex thought. Maybe a little above average, which was rare for a high schooler. She heard an audible gasp from the girls in the front—probably the first time they’d seen one that wasn’t in a health video or spam folder. Alex made a little show of examining it, turning over the condom between her fingers. “So, you want to use two hands, and if your partner isn’t circumcised, make sure the foreskin is pulled back before you roll the condom on. Dylan here is circumcised, but you get the idea.” She could hear some nervous giggling, but also a hush from some who were really, really paying attention.

Alex tore the foil open with her teeth and began rolling it down his length, narrating as she went. “Start at the tip, keep it pinched, then roll smooth down to the base—see? And you want to check for any air bubbles, like this.” She took an extra second to stroke it down, partly to make sure the condom fit and partly for effect. Dylan trembled a little under her touch, but now there was a faint, amazed grin peeking through the shell-shocked blush. “See? All covered.”

“Why don’t you show the girls how oral sex should be performed on a male?” the teacher asked.

“Great idea!” Alex grinned wickedly. “Ladies, this one’s for you, so pay attention. Who here has sucked cock before? C’mon, don’t be shy!”

A few hands went up, bashful behind a wave of snickers, but mostly it was dead silence. Alex chuckled. “Hey, that’s cool. No shame in being inexperienced. I’m here to show you what real technique looks like.”

She wiggled her fingers at Dylan to draw him closer, then knelt down so the desk obscured most of her nakedness from the waist up, but left her face and his cock fully in view of the front row. “First, position is important. If you can’t get comfortable and if your knees start to hurt, you’re not going to want to keep going,” she explained, making eye contact with a couple of the girls in the front. “And don’t just dive in and start bobbing your head like in a porno. Start gentle. Let him get used to the attention.”

She ran her hands up Dylan’s thighs, then looked up at him with exaggerated bashfulness. “Ready?”

He nodded.

“Me too.”

Alex started slow. First, she went just for the tip, flicking her tongue against the condom a few times. It was not the same as bare, but it was good enough for demonstration, and at this point she knew exactly how to give amazing blowjobs despite it. She showed the class how she swirled her tongue, teased the crown, and then eased her lips further down, matching Dylan’s ragged breaths for effect. “Notice how I’m not doing the porn-star choke at first,” she said. “You go slow, you build up. You want him to last, right, ladies?” A titter went up from the girls. “You want to vary pressure and speed. Try licking the underside of his cock too, like an ice cream cone.” She ran her tongue up the underside of Dylan’s shaft. He shuddered. “You can use your hand if you need to as well.”

She wrapped her fingers around the base of his shaft, stroking in rhythm with her mouth, letting herself get caught up in the work. There was, she reflected, a real satisfaction in performing for an audience, and even greater satisfaction in knowing the lessons she was imparting would help these students—teenagers just like her—to have fun, satisfying, and safe sex.

It’s not about showing off, she thought as she blew Dylan happily. Okay, maybe it is just a little. But if I’m going to leave a lasting impression here, better it be the kind that comes with practical takeaways and, ideally, fewer awkward marriages later in life.

Once she was sure they’d seen enough, she pulled her mouth away with a pop, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand for theatrical effect, and addressed the class. “If you make it fun for yourself, it’s more fun for him, too. That’s the secret. If you hate every second, it doesn’t matter how many tutorials you watch.”

She returned to her ministrations. Dylan’s hands were balled into fists at his sides. Alex let the rhythm build. “See?” she said, her tongue flicking out to caress him as she spoke. “You want him crazy for it, but if you sense he’s about to burst too soon, you can stop, slow it down, and keep him on the edge. That’s called edging. If you really want to make a guy lose his mind, there’s no better way than that. Oh, and quick tip for the guys: if you get close too quick, squeeze the base, and try to think about something boring. Like standardized testing. Or long division.”

She looked at the teacher. “I think we should help the boys next. After all, oral is a two-way street, and a guy should know how to eat a girl out properly. Sound good?” Alex noticed Dylan’s uncertain expression and smiled. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll coach you the whole way. No one’s judging.”

The teacher seems to agree, so Alex climbed up onto the table and sat so her legs hung over the edge and looked right at Dylan, who was still hovering a few feet away with his hard-on bobbing like it had a mind of its own. She was not shy about spreading her knees for him—if anything, she wanted everyone to see the invitation. She gave the class her best impish look and said, “This is the part a lot of guys think they’re good at, but most of them are not. So, let’s do some mythbusting.”

She patted the tabletop. “You can kneel, or stand, or whatever—you’re taller than me, Dylan, so whatever works.”

Dylan knelt so his head was right in front of her pussy, which she was sure was probably the first unpixelated one he'd seen outside of the Internet. Alex could hear a couple of the girls snicker at his shell-shocked look and made sure to stand up for him. “None of that, girls. Dylan is doing his best, and that takes guts.”

When they were silent, she gave Dylan a pat on the head like a favored pet. “Don’t listen to them. You’re doing great. Now, look and learn, everybody. First rule: Tongue first, fingers later. You want to start slow and test the waters, then build intensity. Like a symphony, not a fire drill. Of course, you want to focus on the girl’s clit—Dylan, would you move to the right just a little?—this is it right here. And guys, take a good look because you’re gonna need to know how to recognize a girl’s clit when you see it. Most girls cum from fucking with that rather than from penetration, believe it or not. I’m serious, it’s not a myth. If you don’t believe me, hit the Internet later and read up on ‘The Orgasm Gap.’ It’s real. And the way you close it, gentlemen, is with your tongue.”

One of the girls in the second row piped up. “She’s right. Like, I’m so lucky my boyfriend’s good at eating me out. He’s the only reason I’ve ever cum from just sex and not my vibrator,” she says, and some of the other girls murmured in support.

“See?” Alex said, pointing at her. “Oral is not optional, people. It’s biology.” She let her fingers trail down to the edge of the table, then leaned back on her palms and tilted toward Dylan, presenting for the class. “Now, when you first go in, gentlemen, don’t attack the clit like it owes you money. Go soft, at least at the start. Kick things off with gentle licks, like you’re tasting frosting off a cupcake. Then you can use the tip of your tongue for little circles or just add pressure if she’s into that. Every girl’s different, so you have to pay attention and ask what she likes.

“You want to start with just your tongue. Don’t jam your fingers in; don’t treat it like it’s a button you have to mash to make something happen. A girl isn’t an Xbox. Just…explore. Be gentle. Once a girl’s super into it—and trust me, she will tell you, with gasps, or grabbing your hair, or by pushing her pussy more into your face—then you can get creative.”

She pulled Dylan’s face a little closer and, after a moment’s hesitation, Dylan stuck out his tongue and gave a tentative lick. It was awkward and tentative but also heart-breakingly earnest. It’s sweet, really. Like seeing a puppy take its first steps.

His first pass missed the mark, so she let her palm land light on his cheek and gently guided him where she wanted him. “There it is. See? Just like that. Little circles, extra points if you switch up the rhythm once she settles in.” She propped herself up, utterly unashamed, and watched as Dylan’s tongue flicked, then flattened, then started experimenting with patterns like he’s got a notepad in his head. The first ripple of pleasure made her toes curl against the steel crossbar under the lab table.

“Don’t forget to breathe,” Alex murmured to Dylan. A jolt of pleasure rippled through her, and she gripped the table tighter. “F-fuck, that was just right, just like that…”

He grew bolder, emboldened by the tiny, involuntary twitches her hips gave and the way her breath came faster. He was a fast learner, Alex had to give him that. She let herself relax backward, fixating on the tile ceiling like someone might while getting a nice foot massage.

“R-right now,” she managed, “Dylan is…oh, fuck…he’s making small, gentle circles, right on the clit. That’s the way you do it.” She clamped her thighs around his head just a little, not enough to trap him, but enough for him to know he’d found her sweet spot. “Guys, if you pay attention to the way she’s moving or the sounds she’s making, you can tell when you’re doing it right. Ladies, moan if you like it, or say something dirty. Guys love feedback, and Dylan here is—fucking hell, yes, right there—he’s doing the Lord’s work. F-fuck…”

He redoubled his efforts, hands trembling on her thighs. Alex, through a haze of growing pleasure, showed the class how, if a guy’s got nervous hands, a girl could help by guiding them—just a touch at first, then maybe more. She took his right hand in hers and slid his middle finger softly toward her opening.

“…it’s totally okay to use your hands,” she said through a gasp. “But always go slow at first. Don’t just jab it in like you’re poking Jell-O.” He slid inside her, delicate and cautious. She didn’t flinch—she wanted him to know this was good, this was right. Alex even moaned, putting a little extra performance into it for the back row. “That’s it,” she said, her voice half-breath. “You want to curl your finger just a little once it’s in her pussy. There’s this spot, inside the top wall…the G-spot, they call it, and if you hit it just right, it’s like flipping a switch.” She demonstrated, gently pressing the pad of Dylan’s finger forward so she could feel the subtle pop, the way her insides seized up and her thighs wanted to squeeze him to death. She showed him, in real time, exactly how to move slow: no poking, no roughness, just a featherlight press and then a curl, as if searching for a secret switch.

“Feel for the spongy part right inside,” she said. “It’s not that deep—you’ll know it when you find it.” She arched her hips for emphasis, rolling onto the balls of her feet, and suddenly she could sense the moment Dylan’s finger found the right spot because her insides clenched involuntarily and a pulse of heat stabbed upward through her belly to the base of her skull. Her thighs twitched, and she had to grab the edge of the table to keep from snapping them shut around his hand and locking him there forever.

He froze, startled, and Alex laughed—the sound was half joy, half awe. “See that?” she said to the class. “You can literally feel the texture change. That’s the G-spot. It’s not a myth. It’s real, and it feels—” She exhaled with a shudder, “—fucking incredible.”

The class was stone silent except for the hum of the radiator and the wet, obscene noises of Dylan’s finger working in slow motion. Alex exaggerated the arch of her spine, letting her head loll back until she was staring at the fluorescent lights. Everything was white and hot and brimming with the electric sense of being exposed, being seen, and not caring at all.

Alex sensed the attention of every single person in the room, not just on her body but on the lesson, the mechanics of pleasure. Good. I want them to understand it’s not just technique, it’s attentiveness, it’s caring if the other person actually likes it. “Right there, Dylan,” she said, and this time she let the moan come out raw and unvarnished, because why not? She was long past shame. “Now, if you move your finger in a ‘come here’ motion—gentle, not fast—it’s like sending a lightning bolt through her legs. Try it.”

He did, and the jolt was instant, a whole-body convulsion Alex rode out with her fists clenched in the table’s edge. She bit her lip and twisted, her body on autopilot, and tilted her hips so the pressure was perfectly sublime. “Yes,” she gasped, “that, exactly—don’t stop, you’re doing amazing.” Alex leaned toward him, her hand wrapped around his wrist as if conducting a duet, and the pleasure was so sharp she almost forgot there was an audience.

But there was, and she sensed them absorbing every detail. The girls in the second row were leaning forward so far their elbows were on their knees, as if hypnotized. The boys in the back, red-faced and slack-jawed, were staring like this was the Rosetta Stone of sexual knowledge.

Dylan’s face was buried between her legs, but his eyes flicked up—and Alex saw the pride there, mingled with the fear, the disbelief that this is real, that this was happening to him. Alex never got tired of seeing that look. She’d seen it so many times on face after face. “R-remember,” she said, “to always—Jesus, yes, that’s so good—to always…be affirming…if you like what he’s doing, don’t skimp on the p-praise…” She grinned. “Guys l-love to be praised.”

She began praising Dylan. “You are a goddamn prodigy,” she panted, running her hand through his hair as he licked and curled and found exactly the right rhythm. The pleasure doubled back on itself, each wave cresting higher than the last. She wanted to laugh, or maybe cry, but all she could do was let her thighs clamp just enough that he couldn’t possibly mistake how much she loved what he was doing. “Yes, baby, holy shit, yes, keep going, don’t you dare stop. You’re doing so good, such a quick fucking learner! Fuck!”

He didn’t stop. He is really starting to get it now, Alex knew. He’s in the zone, every ounce of awkwardness burned away by focus and desperation to do a good job. It’s almost sweet. She barely needed to nudge his head anymore. Dylan’s tongue flattened, then pointed, then flattened again, and every time he hit her clit just right, the world flashed a split second brighter. She let out another moan, less for the class and more because she can’t help it. Alex let herself be totally present in the feeling—the sensation of his lips and tongue, the slight drag of his finger inside her, the way his breath grew ragged the longer he worked.

She thought for just a moment that if things had been different and if she’d never found Cherry Blossom Escorts, Dylan was the sort of guy Alex could see herself with. But of course, that could never happen. She loved her job—like, so much that it was scary—and she loved being unattached and being able to fuck who she wanted, when she wanted. Dylan will make a fucking awesome boyfriend for some lucky girl, but not me. I’m not built for monogamy, and it’d be unfair to Dylan or any other guy to try and pretend I am.

Alex reflected that there were infinitely more Dylans in the world than anyone wanted to admit—awkward, terrified of being too much, scared of being embarrassing or gross, never realizing the only really embarrassing thing is not trying hard enough to give pleasure.

The thought melted into another spasm as Dylan threw in a little flourish, flickering faster, and suddenly the building tension in her belly suddenly, and with no warning, snapped. Alex came so hard and so violently she saw stars and little cartoon birdies, twisting around his face while the heat pulsed up her spine. She didn't try to muffle it; she let the room have every decibel of her pleasure as she screeched with ecstasy. “FUCK! FUCK, FUCK, FUCK YES AAAAAGH!”

She spasmed and shuddered and, holy shit, actually fucking squirted all over Dylan’s face and neck and the edge of the table and probably the floor, too. For a hot second Alex thought Dylan might freak out, but he just kept going, and she was so far gone she barely noticed the stunned silence of the classroom until she came back down from her high, shaking from head to toe, basking in the afterglow of a mind-blowing orgasm.

“Ho-lee shit,” someone whispered, and then the room split with nervous, awe-struck laughter.

Alex panted, hard, letting the aftershocks roll through her like little earthquakes. She blinked up at the drop ceiling, at the water stains and the single sad fly crawling across the fluorescent cover, and wondered, absently, if anyone else had ever gotten off this hard in a public school. I kind of hope so.

“Goddamn,” she finally said, managing to focus again. Dylan was still there, kneeling at the altar of her pussy, his smile sheepish but proud as hell. And he deserves to be. Alex grabbed the back of his head and planted a kiss on his lips, a lewd, passionate kiss with lots of tongue. “You fucking stud,” she breathed. “Holy shit, Dylan, you’re gonna ruin all other boys for these girls.” She swept an arm—dramatic, like Vanna White—at the audience, who burst out in a chorus of laughter, embarrassment, and awe.

Alex had never felt more alive.