It was with a heavy sigh that the dramatics conductor Mr. Benson paused the recording of their last practice, freeze-framing the star of the looseness mid-screen, one Miss Scarlett Johansson. His dingy eyes swivelled from the screenland to the high schooler sitting across from him on the couch as they had an after-school meeting in his office.

"Yeah, it's not your best, Scarlett. It's actually pretty bad."

The gamey school elder's shoulders dropped and her beautiful leafy vegetable centre threatened tears. She barely heard her dramatic play teacher as he started to find fault apart her performance, feeling benumb and obtuse. The problems with her acting he was mentioning he couldn't possibly actually palpate were trouble ! It was all so subjective !

Anyone else who didn't have her futurity in her handwriting, she would deliver snapped back with a snarky comeback, or argued that he didn't know what he was talking about. But ... she knew she had to impress him, so she sat and listened.

Over the course of the breakdown the much previous teacher leaned skinny and closer to the very busty teen, sometimes resting his hand on the schoolgirl skirt she was wearing. This kept happening often, until his deal started brushing against the bring out bare skin of her leg that the wanna-be starlet Scarlett started feeling a churning touch sensation inside of her mat potbelly that something was unseasonable, and she should get out of here.

Before she could do anything but out-of-doors and penny-pinching her plush lips a few times like a Fish, the instructor's eyes locked on the very sonsie swelling of her button-up shirt, before travelling up to her angular and perfectly formed fount. As if he had every right to do it, he slid his hand deliberately up her skirt and rested his gnarled ribbon on her thigh.

He leaned forward, stroking and rubbing her second joint,"You're very overbold, Scarlett. You know you're going to need my assist to get into that acting school in New York."

Scarlett Johansson felt like she was disassociating from her body, and she felt herself going limp. It was like she could note what was happening from a distance, across the way. His other hand grabbed the vertebral column of her neck and pulled her into him, resting her headland on his shoulder. His hired man was between her thighs, rubbing her pussy.

His moans were searing themselves into her mind, the type of moan where there isn't a doubt that the man is getting exactly what he wants. It was like watching a movie, the teen thinking as in her distracted head she watched the conniption spread. Her cunt was soaked from her rubbing, and like a tool on string, she watched as she let him stand her up and tug her underwear to her ankles. During her repositioning, his cock had been sprung relieve from his pants, throbbing and hard.

She could only barely palpate the pressure of the desk on which her boob rested as her teacher set her over, and tried her upright to choke up out the feeling of his shaft sawing against her ass and pussy. Scarlett watched the view in her mind, scoffing at how a great deal of a jade the char was until she remembered it was her, and she felt herself crashing back towards reality, all the while wishing she'd get up and run out of the way, never to see the creep again. Why was her pussy leaking ?

Was going to Lee Strasberg and becoming a noted actress worth this ?

As her teacher's cock slid inside of Scarlett Johansson's burning cunt, he whispered"Fuck, oh screw, oh fuuuuckkk,"right into her ear as she shuddered and twitched under him. She didn't move, she didn't help him get off, but he continued to fuck her into the desk for nearly twenty dollar bill moment, until his fingerbreadth returned to her cunt in addition to the stopcock fucking her.

She began feeling dizzy, the mankind spinning in her mind as his grunts turned to primal moan. Some insubstantial sensation was building in her body like she'd never felt before, oceanic abyss in her tummy. She started to rock back onto his lap, her body moving with every thrusting he made.

The shriek from her unexpected orgasm would have given them both away, alerted anyone else left in the school, if he didn't clamp his mitt powerfully over her mouth as she convulsed with pleasure under him. He never let up through it all, painfulness and panic setting in as he went hard and faster, until his own end came and, deep interior of Scarlett Johansson's rigorous teen cunt, he sprayed load after encumbrance of cum.

When he slowly pulled from her, it was like he pulled a sparking plug and the electricity went out. Scarlett was suddenly in her idea again, no longer looking at this dispassionately, disassociating it from herself. She bobbed to the floor and pulled up her underwear, and scrambled over the desk. She grabbed her rucksack and practically ran out of the threshold to her car.

It was a furious, debauched ride home, but she didn't find any ease there. She didn't sleep that night, instead she rubbed herself way Mr Benson did, trying her best to recapture the feeling of his breath, his grunts, his skin senses. She came again, over and over, until her organic structure couldn't orgasm any more.

In a good, just world that would cause been their first-class honours degree and only encounter. Actually, in a dependable world a beautiful talented char like Scarlett Johansson would never induce been raped by her drama teacher at all, but life wasn't that way. As life isn't fair, or just, she stayed after school at least once a week for extra acting lessons from her teacher. In the end, he kept his word and she got an A+ in the class, and got a personal passport from him to advert acting schooling at the Lee Israel Strassberg Theatre & motion picture Institute.

From there the rest period was history, and the beautiful teen would grow up and enter Hollywood, becoming the highest grossing woman actress of all time.

The impression of being raped never left her, not really. Recently she looked up Mr. Benson to see if he was still teaching, and she saw that he was arrested six months ago for - what else - having sex with a student. That weight felt heavy on her. How many other charwoman would give birth been saved if she had spoken up ? Was having the life she did, the vocation she did, worth it happening to her ? Or happening to all those girlfriend she didn't eff ? Would she do it again, if she knew what would happen ?

She didn't have those answers, and she hated herself for it .