Homework, Wetness, and Boner Obliteration

Ms. Vespera cleared her throat, her gaze sweeping across the classroom. "Let's not lose focus here, shall we?" Her tone remained professional, though a flicker of irritation threatened to seep through. With a practiced ease, she steered the class back to the lesson at hand.

Her eyes drifted to Vee, who was comfortably perched on his lap. She didn't seem to notice where her hand rested—her attention instead falling on a thick stack of papers cluttering the desk. "I will be collecting your homework now," she announced, her voice carrying the unmistakable authority of a teacher who tolerated no excuses.

Oh. So she did remember giving us homework... Too bad I hadn't remembered to do it. I had absolutely nothing to hand in.

Ms. Vespera cleared her throat again—like something massive had been shoved down there the night before, leaving an irritating tickle—before plucking the hefty stack of papers from their desk. It was enormous—easily 400 pages thick. Her brow arched as she read the title aloud. "Titanic 2?"

A pause. Then, with the air of someone preparing for an unexpected literary voyage, she mused, "Well, this should be an interesting read. I did quite enjoy the first movie."

Oh. Right. A flicker of delayed realisation crossed his mind—one of the bunny girls had actually done his homework for him. He had completely forgotten about that. Probably should thank them at some point... if he even remembered to or remembered which one of the bunny girls gave it to him. How many bunny girls were there again?

Chad tried to count to three before Vee shifted on his lap to face the teacher at the front of the desk. As she moved, her butt and mini-skirt tangled with his clothing, twisting his trousers and boxers underneath, digging into him painfully. At the same time, Vee's carpet gave him... carpet burns. Miss Vespera looked at Vee, her tone sharp but friendly, and said, "Young lady, where's your homework?"

"Damn, that really did a number on my balls," Chad thought, gritting his teeth. He had been so sure he'd fail this challenge, that his body would betray him at the worst possible moment. But honestly? The pain had obliterated any lingering arousal. His boner was dead—gone, buried, and probably holding a little funeral service in his pants.

He shifted slightly, trying to ignore the dull ache, and gave the bet he just made some serious thought. Wait… I might actually be able to pull this off. If I win, my and my waifu's faces will be tattooed and immortalised on these girls' breasts forever. A permanent, walking monument to my victory. And it'll make some excellent wanking material for my wank bank that'll last me a long time.

And the best part? Oh, the best part was almost poetic. Someday, these girls would get boyfriends. They'd have sex. And when they did, those poor guys would be forced to lock eyes with me and my waifu, right there on their chests. No escape. Just me and my waifu looking directly at them mid-orgasm. It was equal parts hilarious, cursed, and ridiculously hot.

But the real masturbation-piece? Picture this—low-cut blouses, fabric dipping just enough to reveal the very tops of their cleavage… and lurking just above the neckline? The eyes on my tattooed face on their boobs. Just like Cookie Monster peeking over a countertop, wide and googly, watching... Judging.

I can prove my undying love for my waifu by winning this bet! Whenever I got too aroused, I'd simply initiate a mission to destroy it—like imagining the fat 'females' from the video game Concord, naked, with their disgustingly hairy armpits and facial hair, their pudgy, lumpy figures stuffed into ill-fitting, bulky armour, with weirdly puffy padding that makes them look even rounder. Their faces—oh, their faces—framed by unflattering, choppy haircuts, with soulless, deadpan expressions and bizarrely mismatched makeup, Or, even better... I'll picture inflation Sonic fan art! Or think of the madness of the My Little Pony brony fan community. Instant boner obliteration!

I've got loads of 'boner annihilator material' flooding my mind right now. And in the words of Vee, 'drastic measures' must be taken to kill the boner. Luckily, I have a secret weapon—but I can't let the Mini Skirt Mafia Sisters realise what it is. No... I've got to keep that under wraps.

My homework," Vee said, as she adjusted on my lap, unable to get comfortable. She lifted her skirt to stop it from getting tangled around my crotch area, and I felt a big, thonged butt wiggling against my junk.

I thought… "This is gonna be way harder than I expected. She wasn't even trying—just sitting there with that innocent little smile—and my junk was going absolutely wild and no longer in pain."

"My homework... sorry, Ms. Vespera," Vee said, acting all sweet and innocent. "I really did do it, but my sister and I took our homeworks into the bath to finish them off, and… well, they got wet and ruined."

Ms. Vespera let out a long, tired sigh. "Why are things always getting wet with you two?"

Vee hesitated for a second, then mumbled, barely above a whisper, "…Chad's usually the source of the wetness of my sister and me."

Ms. Vespera's eyes shot to Chad like a laser.

"What the hell?!" Chad thought, completely dumbfounded. How is this my fault?! I wasn't even in the bath! I don't get why I'm the one getting blamed for her wetness of whatever.

Ms. Vespera collected more homework from the rest of the class and shot Chad a stare. While most had only turned in 5 or 6 pages, he had handed in 400. She stared at Chad's massive stack for a moment before starting to read.

Oh, it was that homework about the story of Titanic 2. He hadn't read it, but he'd gathered the jizz... gist of it and knew it was full of pages describing sex between Rosa and Jack, lots of spitting scenes, and mech fights. Putting so many sex scenes in this story was like taking an innocent book like Twilight and making an over-sexualised version of it… what kind of Snow Queen Ice Dragon would do such a thing? When the teacher read the sex scenes in this book, it might be awkward to explain, but whatever. She might read it and give him a D again. Chad only liked Ds in twos… as in double D.