It was with a impenetrable sigh that the theater director Mister Benson paused the recording of their net practice, freeze-framing the maven of the caper mid-screen, one Miss Scarlett Johansson. His non-white eyes swivelled from the filmdom to the high up schooler sitting across from him on the couch as they had an after-school meeting in his office.

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

The heights schooling senior's berm dropped and her beautiful green center threatened rent. She barely heard her dramatic play teacher as he started to piece apart her public presentation, feeling blunt and speechless. The problems with her acting he was mentioning he couldn't possibly actually experience were trouble ! It was all so subjective !

Anyone else who didn't have her future in her mitt, she would have 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 study of the breakdown the much older teacher leaned closer and closer to the very busty stripling, sometimes resting his hand on the schoolgirl skirt she was wearing. This kept happening often, until his hand started brushing against the exposed bare peel of her leg that the wanna-be starlet Scarlett started feeling a churning feel interior of her flat tummy that something was wrong, and she should get out of here.

Before she could do anything but open and close her plush lips a few multiplication like a Pisces, the teacher's eyes locked on the very voluptuous prominence of her button-up shirt, before travelling up to her angular and perfectly formed face. As if he had every rightfulness to do it, he slid his hand deliberately up her doll and rested his gnarled palm on her thigh.

He leaned forward, stroking and rubbing her thigh,"You're very smart, 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 dead body, and she felt herself going limp. It was like she could observe what was happening from a space, across the room. His former paw grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her into him, resting her head on his shoulder. His hand was between her thigh, rubbing her pussy.

His moans were searing themselves into her mind, the type of moan where there isn't a incertitude that the man is getting exactly what he wants. It was like watching a picture show, the teen thought as in her distracted headspring she watched the scene stretch. Her cunt was soaked from her rubbing, and like a puppet on strings, she watched as she let him stand her up and tug her underwear to her ankle joint. During her repositioning, his cock had been bounce free from his pants, throbbing and hard.

She could only barely feel the pressure of the desk on which her breast rested as her instructor bent her over, and tried her better to block out the belief of his cock sawing against her ass and pussy. Scarlett watched the scene in her mind, scoffing at how much of a slut the woman was until she remembered it was her, and she felt herself crashing back towards reality, all the patch wishing she'd get up and run out of the room, never to see the creep again. Why was her purulent leaking ?

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

As her teacher's cock slid inside of Scarlett Johansson's burning pussy, he whispered"piece of ass, oh shtup, 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 bonk her into the desk for nearly twenty min, until his digit returned to her puss in addition to the cock fucking her.

She began feeling dizzy, the domain spinning in her mind as his oink turned to primal moan. Some unreal genius was building in her eubstance like she'd never felt before, trench in her stomach. She started to rock back onto his lap, her body moving with every thrust he made.

The scream from her unexpected climax would have given them both away, alerted anyone else left in the schooling, if he didn't clamp his hand powerfully over her mouth as she convulsed with delight under him. He never let up through it all, nuisance and panic setting in as he went hard and faster, until his own end came and, cryptical inside of Scarlett Johansson's smashed teenager cunt, he sprayed load after payload of cum.

When he slowly pulled from her, it was like he pulled a plug and the electrical energy went out. Scarlett was suddenly in her mind 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 back pack and practically ran out of the room access to her car.

It was a infuriated, fast ride home, but she didn't find any comfort there. She didn't sleep that night, instead she rubbed herself way Mister Benson did, trying her Charles Herbert Best to recapture the tone of his breathing time, his grunt, his touch. She came again, over and over, until her consistence couldn't orgasm any more.

In a dear, just globe that would possess been their first and only encounter. Actually, in a safe world a beautiful talented woman like Scarlett Johansson would never have been raped by her drama teacher at all, but life wasn't that way. As life isn't carnival, or just, she stayed after schooling at least once a hebdomad for extra acting lesson from her instructor. In the end, he kept his word and she got an A+ in the class, and got a personal recommendation from him to attend acting schooling at the Lee Strasberg dramaturgy & Film Institute.

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

The feeling 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 month ago for - what else - having sex with a educatee. That weight felt dense on her. How many early cleaning woman would give been saved if she had spoken up ? Was having the life she did, the life history she did, worth it happening to her ? Or happening to all those young lady she didn't know ? Would she do it again, if she knew what would happen ?

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