Brianna stifled another yawn, trying not to make her boredom known to her tormentor. This art museum was curated by the fiancé of Brianna's eighth grade teacher, and as such, the middle-aged woman was sure to be quite intolerant of any signs of disagreeableness. To make matters worse, Brianna was a habitual troublemaker who was no doubt first in line to be punished for any sort of disruption to the day's plan. <It's all just so boring!> Brianna mused, wondering why she had to be dragged along with the rest of her classmates to pretend to drool over some paintings by a bunch of old dead guys.
Doing her best to appear attentive to the curator's drawling speech, Brianna let her eyes wander around the gallery, stopping when she noticed a man eying her. Thinking it was her imagination, she looked away, only to find her gaze drawn back over a few moments later. As soon as Brianna glanced up at the man, he looked away, busying himself with a nearby exhibit; even across the gallery, he clearly didn't want her to know he was staring.
<There's no doubt about it, he's definitely checking me out. Ugh, what a fucking creep.> But the more she thought about it, the more Brianna realized that she'd rather take her chances with a potential sexual predator than listen to another word about the history of 17th century art. During the last twenty minutes, Brianna had already made her way to the back of the group to try and muffle the maddening whine of the lecture, so it was easy for her to slip away from her classmates and begin making her way over to the older man. He still had his back turned, apparently having decided to continue staring at his chosen painting to avoid drawing any further suspicion to himself. This made sneaking up on him a piece of cake.
Before she could change her mind, Brianna stood up on her tiptoes just behind the middle-aged man, and whispered into his ear: "Hey, pervert." The man jumped in surprise, starting to turn around, which Brianna stopped with a hand on his shoulder and a soft whisper in his ear. "If you turn around, I'll scream, so just keep looking at your painting and listen. I saw you staring at me from across the gallery; you were checking me out, weren't you? What a fucking pervert you are, looking at an underage girl like that... I bet you want to fuck me, don't you?" Brianna paused for a moment, blowing a slow breath of hot air across the back of his neck, "Hey, Mister, be honest: if you don't tell me the truth I'll scream."
Reluctantly, the man gave a single nod, and feeling him stiffen in fear through his shoulder gave Brianna a rush of adrenaline and sent her mind racing. <He's all mine, this creepy pedo; he'll do anything I say right now, I have complete control over him!> Despite herself, she felt a certain stirring at the thought, and found herself staring at the man's broad back. <He's not unattractive, and it's not like it would be real sex, I'd just be using him to get off...>
"Hey, Mister," Brianna said again, now removing her hand from his shoulder and stand back on the soles of her feet. "I'm like, suuuper bored right now..." She let her voice trail off, giving the older man time to turn around and face her. "You can look..." she whispered, grinning when she noticed a twitch in his pants. The man swallowed hard, but was unable to keep himself from taking in the teen's lithe young body and far too short skirt. "Wanna help me get this boredom out of my system?"
The man opened his mouth to respond, but Brianna didn't give him the chance. She smirked at his hesitation, taking his hand in hers and tugging him towards the large sign that indicated the location of the museum's restrooms.