A Lesson Learned in School

John Watson was a teacher. He wasn't a very good teacher as the many teaching posts he had lost would surely testify.

And the job he had now was only on probation until he had proved his worth to the School Principal. And, he decided, this was not going to be easy!

First, the Principal was a woman, and John's success rate with women was dismal. Two failed marriages and a string of casual relationships proved that.

Second, he had been given one of the worst classes in the school to teach, and it was on this class that he was to be judged.

There were twenty-two boys in this class, aged between eighteen and nineteen and in IQ from minus to zero. He had them twice a day, each class for one and a half hours.

The first session was always English, for which he was qualified, and the second session was General Subjects, which pretty well left it up to him to choose. The school closed on Wednesday afternoons.

It was a mixed school, but strangely, all the classes were of one gender only. The girls and boys only came together for meal breaks and sports activities.

However, both male and female teachers taught all classes, so John was able to see a cross section of the pupils. He much preferred to teach the girls.

He found that, although in their mid to late teens, the girls were guileless and relatively naive and most were unaware of their own sexuality.

Notwithstanding, he was aware that some of them openly flirted with him, but guessed that it was probably a bravado thing to impress their peers.

There was a school uniform but it was not rigidly applied. However, most of the pupils wore their own interpretation of the dress code.

The girls wore a white blouse which zipped up the front and a plaid skirt which zipped up the side. The main difference was how low the zip on the blouse went down and how high the hemline of the skirt went up!

Regulation white socks and slip on black shoes completed the supposed ensemble.

The boys also wore white shirts – either T-shirts or short sleeved shirts and with dark jeans. No amount of persuasion would encourage them to wear dark shoes and sneakers were the order of the day.

John was forty-eight years old, although he looked and acted much younger. He lived in a bachelor flat only ten minutes walk from the school, which suited him fine.

He was of average height, slim and with a full head of unruly dark hair. Women somehow found him attractive and sensual but he seemed oblivious to this.

He mostly wore blue denim jeans, sneakers without socks and tight fitting T-shirts of various colours. He liked to think that this would help him identify with his pupils to some extent.

However, he was getting absolutely nowhere with his problem class and realised he would have to do something drastic, and soon, to get them on side.

He decided he had to offer them something that would grab their attention and also elevate his own image in their eyes. Not an easy thing to do!

Although they were lacking in intelligence, they were street-wise and cunning and not about to be easily fooled.

A possible solution presented itself the next day, and the ramifications of the plan he had conjured in his mind sent the blood rushing through his body and made his heart go into overdrive. The more he visualised the scenario, the more exited he became.

One of the classes he taught was made up of eighteen girls and he was popular with them all. There was one girl in particular who he enjoyed watching and talking to.

Her name was Sally and she had just turned eighteen. She was very pretty (and knew it) with dark brown eyes that could melt and a pert little face framed by dark auburn hair.

She was one of the girls who, he thought, was aware of her sexuality because she would quite often lean back in her seat with her legs slightly splayed.

Quite often he would glimpse sight of her panties as she moved around in her seat and he noticed that she would run her pink tongue over her lips when she caught him looking.

He fantasised about her a lot when he was home alone in his flat and, as he masturbated (as he did most nights) he would wonder what she would look like without her clothes.

Sometimes, he would dream that he would slowly undress her and other times that she would strip for him. But it was all harmless stuff as it would never happen.

Then he caught her smoking! Not just smoking, but smoking dope. It was the unmistakeable aroma that first alerted him.

It was during the lunch-time break and he just happened to wander down to the bicycle sheds in case any of the pupils were making out.

There was nobody there at all, except Sally. She was sitting on the grass with her back against the shed, deeply engrossed in her joint.

Her skirt had ridden halfway up her slender thighs and John believed that she was completely unaware of his presence.

He skirted the bicycle sheds to a different vantage point where he was directly opposite her. He was no more than five paces away from her and he had an interrupted view of her.

Her knees were drawn up to her chest with her feet apart and he could see not only her white panties but also the dark shape of her pubic hair pressed against the material.

What should he do? For the moment he was content just to look at her and fantasise. Maybe he would just walk up to her, put his finger to his lips and with a "Sshh," sit down in front of her.

He would take the joint from her lips and place it in his own and take a deep toke before placing it back between her lips.

Then, while she continued smoking he would watch as his hand, as if all by itself slowly moved under her skirt and up to her panties.

He would gently move the white material to one side to expose two puffy pink lips which glistened as he stared.

He would extend his middle finger and slowly push it in between her very wet lips and a sigh would escape from her partly opened mouth as his finger travelled its full length into her pussy.

"Oh, Mr Watson – that feels so good. Please don't stop."

Maybe! Maybe! Maybe!

He could see that she had almost finished her joint and would soon get up and leave. He had to do something immediately and make it up as he went.

"Sally! What the Hell do you think you're doing?" He had sprung from his hiding place and with a few short steps he was standing in front of her.

A look of astonishment, then fear visited her face, but he noticed that she had made no move to close her legs or adjust her skirt.

"Mr Watson... I um ... I didn't know you were there," she blurted, as if to hide her confusion.

"Would that have made any difference, Sally," he barked. "If I'm not mistaken I believe you are smoking a joint."

"Eh! No Sir...I mean yes Sir. I'm sorry Sir. This is the first time Sir."

He doubted that from the accustomed way she had smoked the joint. And he realised that there was no apparent queasiness about her, just a euphoric haze – which was rapidly disappearing as she began to fully realise her dilemma.

But, her legs continued to be apart and her skirt seemed even higher up her thighs than when he first saw her.

John's breathing became ragged as he watched her gaze up at him with those big brown eyes. Tears slowly formed in the corners of both eyes and slowly coursed their way down her cheeks and dripped onto her blouse.

For the first time since he had found her he looked at the shape of her small breasts and the way the blouse rose and fell with her crying.

The zip on her blouse was opened sufficiently for him to see the lacy edge of her bra, which was also white. His erection, which had started from the first moment he saw her, was now like a pole in his trousers.

He wondered if she was aware of this, or could even see it, but he decided her fear was so great that she wouldn't think to look.

The school bell suddenly sounded in the playground on the other side of the bicycle sheds.

He realised that he must press home his advantage now or the moment would be lost.

"Sally – You realise I must report this to the Principal and she will have to advise your parents and the Police of what you have been doing.

Taking drugs is a very serious matter and can lead to even greater problems. Do your parents know that you smoke at all?"

"No, Mr Watson. That is, my Mum has no idea. My Father died several years ago so there is just my Mum and me."

"My Mum's not well and is under the Doctor, so please don't tell her about this. I am truly, truly sorry and I'll never do it again."

"Look, Sally! If I were to say nothing then I would be failing in my job as a teacher and as an adult. I'm afraid there is no alternative. Where did you get the joint from in the first place?"

"I can't tell you, Sir – I promised and I don't want to get him into trouble."

Well, thought John – at least we know it's a 'he'.

"Is it your boyfriend, Sally?"

"No, Mr Watson. I don't have a boyfriend but I am friendly with him."

"Then, you must like him a lot to risk your Mum finding out and the possibility of the Police investigating!"

This brought a fresh wave of tears and her bottom lip quivered as she fought to control her mounting emotions.

John felt sorry for her as he watched her and he was sure he could see even more of her panties than before – or was it just his imagination.

"Well, if you won't help me, then I can't help you. Go straight to the Principals office and wait there until I come."

"Nooooooooooo! Mr Watson. Please! Please!"

She bowed her head in submission and John thought how it would be if only he could bend down, rip off her panties, take out his cock which was now painfully engorged, and ram it into her tight little pussy.

He was so turned on he was sure he would cum with only the second thrust.

"His name is Paul Harris and he only gave me some to try. Please don't tell."

John knew this Paul Harris. He was in his problem class and was always ready with a smart answer.

He was more or less the leader of the pack, in a subtle way, and the rest of the class always listened to him.

"Thank you, Sally. At least you have some sense. But, you have to be punished, and punished in a way that you will never forget."

"Now, go to your class and come and see me at the end of the day before you go home and we will decide what to do with you."

"Thank you Sir, Mr Watson, Sir."

The relief was written all over her face and she quickly stood up and ran back to the playground before her teacher could change his mind.

"And, Sally, if you take my advice you will not share this afternoon's events with anyone – not even your closest friend, unless you want the whole school to know immediately!"

"No, Mr Watson, Sir – I won't tell anyone, Sir."

"Especially Paul Harris because he will tell everybody."

"No, Sir, I promise Sir – Thank you, Mr Watson."

John watched as her little bottom jiggled as she ran, again showing glimpses of her panties. His erection began to fade as he realised this fantastic event was now at an end, but his penis twitched again as he began to think about what he could do to use all of this to his full advantage.

He now had a free period and decided to take a long walk to think over all that had happened.

Had she deliberately parted her legs more to entice him? Had she seen him before he had seen her?

He doubted it. But, how frightened was she and to what lengths would she go to keep his silence?

As he walked he began to form a plan in his mind. A plan that would serve to punish Sally in a way she would never forget and also to determine if she was, indeed, the sexually aware girl he thought she might be.

It would certainly excite his senses too, and more than ever before, but, more importantly, it would allow him to stamp his identity on his problem class. If this worked, they would think he was God.

The rest of the afternoon went quickly for him. He didn't really concentrate on the class he taught in the afternoon as his thoughts were only about Sally.

God, he couldn't wait for the end of the afternoon to put his plan into action with Sally, and he couldn't wait to get home to gratify his lust.

As the bell rang signifying the end of the school day John dismissed his class and sat back to await, with eager anticipation, the arrival of Sally.

He again wondered what Sally was all about. Was she a virgin? He doubted that, given the school and the area, but he thought that she wouldn't be too experienced.

Was she deeper than she gave him to imagine? He would find out!

There was a timid knock on the door and Sally shuffled in. She turned to close the door (what did that signify?) but John told her to leave it open. He didn't want to alert her fears yet. Her eyes were a little red and puffy but, apart from that, she was a joy to behold.

"Now, Sally, we must have a heart to heart talk about what's going on in your life and why you are smoking pot and what we are going to do about it all. And please be honest with me and answer all my questions truthfully."

"Yes, Mr Watson."

"Go and sit over there where I can see you." (At least as much of you as I can, he thought). She sat down opposite him and he noticed her knees were very slightly apart. Was she teasing him?

"How long have you been smoking pot, Sally?"

She was about to say that it was the first time, but stopped and decided to be truthful. After all, her life and future was now in his hands.

"It was my third time, Mr Watson."

"So, you must like it then."

"Sort of, Mr Watson."

"What is it you like about it, Sally?"

"It makes me feel good and relaxed and gives me confidence, Mr Watson."

"In what way?"

"It makes me feel dreamy and hor..."

"Carry on, Sally."

"That's it, Mr Watson."

"But, you didn't finish what you were going to say, Sally."

"Yes, I finished, Sir."

"Sally – I thought you were going to be truthful with me. How else can I help you?"

Sally blushed and lowered her head until John could no longer see her face. Was she going to say it? Without raising her head, she whispered,

"It makes me horny, Sir."

"Do you like feeling horny, Sally?"

"Yes Sir – sometimes Sir." She paused for a moment and then added, "Always, Sir!"

"Were you feeling horny this afternoon when I found you, Sally?"

Her voice caught in her throat, and she whispered,

"Yes Sir."

"Was it just because of the joint or was it also because I was there?"

"It was because I was being watched, Sir."

"So Sally, you liked to be watched when you are feeling horny?"

"Yes Sir."

She now raised her head, almost in defiance, and looked at him. Once more, her tongue caressed her lips.

"What do you feel when you are horny, Sally?"

"I get tingly all over and I get excited, Mr Watson."

"Explain it to me, Sally."

She paused for a long time, breathing heavily. John waited and watched.

"My nipples get hard and I get wet, Sir."

He was going to play this to the very end. There was now no going back and he wanted to ensure her silence and cooperation. The more she confided in him, the more of a hold he had over her.

"What do you mean by 'get wet', Sally?"

"You know, Sir – I just get wet."

"But how, Sally. I need to know."

Again her head dropped and she studied her knees. Then, in barely a whisper, she said,

"In my pussy, Sir."

"And, what does that make you want to do, Sally?"

"Nothing Sir, I just want to be watched."

So, she was an exhibitionist! Even better!

"Are you horny now, Sally?"

"A little bit, Sir."

"Why is that, Sally?"

"Because you're watching me Sir."

"And are you wet, Sally?"

"A little bit Sir."

"And, are you're nipples hard?"

"A little bit Sir."

John thought for a moment and let the silence hang over the both of them. Did she think that he was about to jump her bones? Was she sexually active? Time to find out!

"Sally – what are your sexual experiences?"

"Excuse me Sir!"

"Oh. Come on Sally – has any boy fucked you yet or are you still a virgin?"

Her head shot up and she stared at him for a long time.

"Not properly, Mr Watson."

"What does that mean, Sally?" "I've played around with a couple of boys but they only touched me with their fingers and their lips."

"How many times has this happened, Sally?"

"Just the once, Mr Watson."

"You mean, two boys at the same time?"

She hesitated again, and then whispered,

"Yes Sir."

"Was Paul Harris one of them?"

"No Sir, although I know he likes me a lot. I've never got close to him."

John stored that little piece of information at the back of his mind. So, Paul Harris had the hots for Sally!

"Tell me what happened, Sally."

"We went over to Westcott Woods – just for something to do. We sat under this big tree and they started to kiss me on my lips – one after the other."

"Did that make you feel horny, Sally?"

"A little bit, Sir, but I was scared because they were older than me. Then one of them took his belt off his pants and tied my hands together so I couldn't move.

They stood me up and tied the belt to a branch of the tree above my head."

"What did you feel, Sally?"

"I was more scared than anything, especially when the other boy took off his belt and tied my legs to the tree."

"Weren't you excited that they were watching you, Sally."

"A little bit, Sir, but I was still scared. And I felt so defenceless with my arms over my head and my feet wide apart."

"Then what happened, Sally?"

She was quiet again and her head fell down once more.

"They undressed me Sir. They took all my clothes off and pulled my nipples and squeezed my breasts and put their fingers inside me."

"Did that make you wet, Sally?"

Again, a long pause, and then;

"Yes Sir."

"Did they kiss your pussy with their lips, Sally?"

She shuddered involuntary and looked up at her teacher.

"No Sir."

"Did you want them to, Sally?"

"I don't know, Sir. Maybe I did! I've seen it in some of the magazines the boys read and wondered what it might feel like – somebody's eyes so close to your secret place."

She shuddered again, and then licked her lips.

He stored that bit of information away, too.

"And then what happened, Sally?"

"They took off their pants and their things were sticking out and they played with themselves until they shot their sticky cum all over me. Then they took back their belts and ran off."

I decided to change the conversation to a different area.

"Do you play with yourself, Sally?"

Another pause while she collected her thoughts.

"Sometimes I do, Sir."

"And what do you think of when you are playing with yourself?"

"Being watched, Sir."

He now had all the information he wanted and it had been nearly half an hour since she came in and he was anxious not to raise any suspicions, either at the school or at her home.

Time to set his plan in motion!

"OK Sally. I've decided not to tell the Principal and I won't tell your Mother. But you have to learn the error of your ways."

"Tomorrow is Wednesday and a half day. When your last class has finished I want you to come straight here to this classroom. Tell your Mother you are doing extra studies at school."

"My Mum doesn't get home until the evening, Sir, and then she goes straight to bed. She doesn't need to know!"

Perfect!

"OK, but, let me tell you this. You must obey me, immediately and without question, anything I ask of you!"

"The very second you don't comply it will be all over and I will go straight to the Principal and the Police. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mr Watson."

"Do you fully understand?"

"Yes Mr Watson – and thank you, Mr Watson."

"Alright, off you go and I'll see you tomorrow afternoon."

She jumped up and darted out the doorway. John couldn't make up his mind whether she was relieved or disappointed.