There are certain places at Canterlot High where students dare not to tread. One of these is the Teacher’s Lounge and, as a result, the rather plain and dreary white walls of the room have been largely unaffected by the changes currently going through the school itself. That’s not to say that there haven’t been a few accents added by some of the more light-headed members of the staff, like the pink and red throw rugs and pillows on the couch but, for the most part, the room is the same as it ever was. But that is slowly changing. And not directly on account of the magic.
 
Professor Top Marks, a rather distinguished looking fellow on the soft side of fifty, is making copies when one of the junior staff members enters into the room. He barely spares the young man a second glance before grunting a greeting. “Gizmo.”
 
“Professor Marks,” the bespectacled teacher says with a measure of respect. The older man smirks a little at that, making a mental note not to give him quite as much grief next time; even if the young technical director could easily be gunning for his job as math chair in the future.
 
“I don’t usually see you around these parts,” Marks says with a smirk. “What pulled you out of the computer lab?”
 
“Ms. Harshwhinny was having a bit of trouble with her tablet; she couldn’t get it to project onto the board.” Moving over to the coffee maker, the recent Canterlot U alum pours himself a cup and leans against the counter. “She’s pretty intimidating; I thought it might be good to stop off in here to stop shaking.”
 
The graying man nods, shuffling his papers around before joining his junior for a drink. “You’re right about that, Whinny has always been a bit of a stickler for doing things right the first time. But don’t let that get to you.”
 
“Oh, it was an easy enough fix,” Gizmo admits, “but it wasn’t just her attitude that threw me off.”
 
Marks raises an eyebrow, giving the young man’s pock-marked face a once over before his eyes light up. “I see,” he chuckles. “No, Whinny’s certainly intimidating in that regard too.”
 
Shrugging his shoulders, Gizmo sighs and nurses the cup of coffee between hand palms. “Honestly, I don’t think it would be a problem if it were just Ms. Harshwhinny. Granted, I’d still be distracted around her, but it wouldn’t be hard to manage. But,” the young man’s still scratchy voice trails off as he sighs again and drinks.
 
“But it’s a little more difficult to take your mind off attractive women when the school is filled with them, right?” the aged professor smirks, earning a weak nod from his junior. Marks laughs, giving Gizmo a firm nudge with his elbow. “Well, you better get used to it son; I’ve been here over a decade and I can’t remember a single year since the sisters took over that didn’t have an incoming class that would make your jaw drop. That’s not even mentioning the upperclassmen.”
 
“How do you do it, professor?”
 
“Hm? What’s that?”
 
“Ignore the fact that you’re surrounded by gorgeous women all the time.”
 
Looking over into the big blue eyes of the pleading teacher, Marks sighs. “Well, it’s not as though there’s any great secret to it. After a while it just becomes second nature to ignore it. I mean, it’s not as though I’m going to try anything with one of my students,” Marks pauses long enough to take a sip of the frankly horrid coffee, “so it’s pretty easy to desexualize them.”
 
That is, of course, a lie. It’s impossible for any red-blooded male to work at CHS and not naturally have their eyes drawn to the bulging breasts and delightful derrieres of the flighty females who pass through their classes. When you consider the inclinations of some of the female staff members, it becomes even harder, especially considering they’re actually viable partners. Marks could count off the number of times Nurse Redheart’s tightly-packed petite body has crossed his mind just today on both hands. Even still, best not to show too much weakness to the newbie, and the graying professor quietly delights as Gizmo’s shoulders sink.
 
“Oh. Well, I suppose that I have a lot of learning left to do. It’s very difficult to not get distracted.”
 
“Believe me, I know. But, you should remain vigilant; otherwise you’ll end up a bitter, frustrated instructor like Cranky Doodle.” Both men nod, remembering the last time one of the most-senior members of the staff went off on the dress code. “Or, if you don’t turn bitter, you might end up like-”
 
“By the light of the stars!” a third voice chimes in, another older man entering into the room. Wind Rider grins at his co-workers and holds his hands out a great distance in front of his chest. “I swear that every time I pass that Wobble Quiet girl she’s packed on another cup size!”
 
The two men remain silent for a moment, looking blankly at their third before Gizmo quietly nods his head. “I see what you mean.”
 
“Right?” Marks asks, raising his drink and his eyebrow, “It’s a truly tragic state you’d do well to avoid.”
 
“Eh? What’s all this about then?” Wind Rider scowls as he pours himself a cup of coffee as well. Neither of the men can hide their irritation as the athletic director forces his way between them. “You aren’t having a complaint session without me around, are you? Because I am getting fed up with how belligerent some of these kids can be. That Spectrum Speed girl especially; she’s always mouthing off to me.”
 
“Ugh, Rainbow Dash?” Marks finds himself groaning out of instinct. “She’s a troublemaker that one. But I can’t stand that Sparkle girl; always yapping away in class but every time I call on her she somehow has the right answer. She even took me up on giving the class a lecture in my place!”
 
Gizmo frowns and raises an eyebrow. “Really? Twilight’s always been an attentive student in my classes. I just have trouble teaching them that there’s more to computer science than just learning how to bypass the school’s security program to look at pornography.”
 
The three men sigh, staring down into their cups for a moment.
 
“Things were easier when I first started,” Marks finally admits. “Principal Clover was a little high strung, but she ran a tight ship and I didn’t have to give much thought to harassment lawsuits. Now it seems that my heart tenses up whenever one of these girls comes into class with a short too skirt.”
 
“Tell me about it,” Wind Rider grunts. “I haven’t been here as long as you have, but it seems like every year we pick up more top, bottom, and all-around heavy girls. Heck, even the returning students aren’t immune; there was one girl last year who went away over winter break as flat as a board, and came back with pontoons attached to her chest.”
 
“I’m just worried that this sexual fixation might be having a negative impact on grades,” Gizmo sighs. “It just seems like the more sexually charged students get, the lower their GPA goes. I’ve seen the numbers for this semester, and this constant arousal really isn’t doing them any favors.”
 
The three men fall silent, sipping at their coffee. As they mull over their individual concerns, the door opens again and the resident amazon marches into the Teacher’s Lounge wearing her usual smile. And very little else.
 
Almost as though her instincts demanded it, Cheeri’s eyes immediately rocket over to the three men, her face brightening further. “Omigosh, hi guys! Are you all having, like, a water cooler moment?”
 
Somehow, the trio manages to string together enough babbling to make a coherent, affirmative statement, which only makes her smile wider. “That’s great! I’m so happy that we’re all the best of friends here at CHS!”
 
And with that, Cheeri saunters across the room, her strained skirt rising up to reveal a string of red lacey panty. Gizmo nearly chokes on his drink, while Wind Rider crushes the nearly empty cup in his hand. Even Professor Marks has to stare as the giant of a woman arrives at the mailboxes and then bends over.
 
As the classics teacher rummages through her paperwork, the three men watch in amazement as the already snug underwear wedges itself higher into the curve of Cheeri’s cheeks. The woman’s plump pussy is very clearly outlined against the fabric, big, bold, begging for attention from both eyes and fingers. And, for an added bonus, the juggie junior teacher gives a little shake of her backside before rising up in a smooth, seamless motion and turning on her towering heels.
 
Another brilliant smile, and the purple-haired woman minces her way back out into the hall. In her wake, three very confused, but very pleased male teachers. The trio exchange looks amongst themselves before Gizmo finally speaks.
 
“I have no problem with continuing to work at CHS.”
 
“Me either,” adds Professor Marks.
 
“Damn that girl’s stacked,” Wind Rider laughs.
 
So it is that things continue in much the same fashion. After all, why would anyone want to stop something so readily pleasing?