Pansuto

The school nurse was infamous among students, a figure who inspired both dread and curiosity. Her dark tights always seemed to reveal a glimpse of white underneath, an unintentional detail that drew unwanted attention. One day, I found myself staring, unable to look away—until she caught me in the act. That moment marked the beginning of something unexpected. What followed were private, after-hours sessions disguised as counseling, but they carried an air of secrecy neither of us acknowledged. The atmosphere was tense, charged with unspoken tension, as if we both knew this wasn’t just about discipline. Those meetings became a ritual, each one more intense than the last, blurring the line between punishment and something far more complicated. The school corridors felt different afterward, every glance between us loaded with meaning. No one else knew what happened behind closed doors, and that only deepened the thrill. It was a game of cat and mouse, with rules neither of us dared to define. The forbidden nature of it all made each encounter electrifying, a secret we guarded fiercely.