David's Tall Girls' School Ch. 20

I stared downwards at her yellowed soiled knicker gusset and watched as her fingers grabbed hold of the waistband and pulled them back up towards me. My nose was plunged into the stinkiest part of her undergarment, and I had to endure it. She was clearly enjoying the situation. I heard her tell her friends that she had 'caught a Peeping Tom in her knickers'. They all laughed merrily and clapped. Miss Wiff-Naseford said that Barbara was very resourceful.

I waited until she had lowered them again and knelt back appearing more dishevelled than normal. Secretly I was furious; I did not like to made to look foolish, and I did not like her wasting time.

"Head up skirt Tom," the young madam demanded loudly, this time looking quite cross. I told her that there was no need to shout, and she kneed me in the face, which brought sudden tears to my eyes.

"No talking, d'ya hear," ranted the now belligerent Barbara Bunning.

I slurped my way between her legs and she appeared to calm down. I felt her grab my head and hold it while she slid up and down against me, flexing her knees. I was aware of static discharge where her nylon slip rubbed against her tartan skirt, and I also felt warm lubrication oozing out of her love hole and over my nose and lips. She held me in such a way so that I could lick her clitoris, and she could control the pressure. After three or four minutes of furious jerking, where her petticoat and skirt shook all around me, she ground herself down onto me and orgasmed. One wave followed another as she pulled me into her.

I felt part of her orgasm, and smelled of her and, as I was hidden away out of sight, I felt I did not exist as a person. There was just my tongue and her vagina. Nothing else seemed to matter.

Quickly she was off me and was wiping herself with her knickers before pulling them back on. I stank of pussy-slime and secretly wished that matron had been there to wash my face with flannels. Miss Wiff-Naseford wandered over and sat on the settee. "Good going Tom, this is working really well, here let me clean you up a bit," she said contritely, looking rather concerned. She spat in my face several times and I shut my eyes. She then cleaned me up with her discarded directoire knickers. Quite honestly I felt no cleaner and wished she would use a paper tissue or a proper towel.

Judy Cleminson followed the same approach as Barbara Bunning.

Judy stood in front of me and slid her pink broderie and eyelet lace knickers down to her knees. She shuffled forward with her legs apart and lifted both skirt and petticoat to her waist. I ducked between her legs and she gripped me between her thighs forcing me to peer downward. Then she pulled her pants back up so that again my nose came into contact with another urine stained gusset.

She had pulled them up quite tightly and dropped her heavy pleats and thin nylon underskirt over me so that I had to kneel there smelling her stinking panty crotch. Needless to say my penis stiffened once more and I began seriously to doubt that I could continue without some form of relief. This 'panty-trapping' appeared to be a welcome addition to the morning's routine. The girls really thought it was funny judging by their sniggering remarks.

"Head up skirt Tom," she ordered, as she finally kicked her knickers to one side. I stuck my head out at thigh level and she stood over me as she flipped first her petticoat then her pleated knee-length skirt over my head and rearranged their hems neatly around me. Her pubic patch smelled surprisingly sweet compared with her knickers.

Immediately I began licking her labia which opened up before me. She spread her legs further and I delved into her vagina. I savoured the many undulations of her fleshy folds and differing skin textures, licking and sniffing my way over them. Gently, but firmly, she clasped my head through her skirt and told me to "get ready for this!"

Then she was off. She roughly gripped my head and held me tightly against her. Flexing her knees she jerked herself visciously up and down, turning my face into a slippery pool of colourless slime. Shifting her grip and moving her feet she used the bony top of my head as a masturbatory surface. She readjusted her grip and pulled up my face and jerked her dripping pussy against my nose. Again she jerked herself savagely against me, seeking sexual satisfaction. All about me her petticoat threshed about. Tiny sparks of static crackled and snapped.

"Oh, ooh, oh, oh no, oh yes," she moaned, only just audible through the two layers of skirt and petticoat material which separated me from the rest of the room. Again she adjusted her grip and wiped her prominent labia furiously against my temples. I stared down at her stockings and at her metal suspender clasps, and at my penis which bobbed about in time with her incessant masturbation. "Oh yes," she continued, "Oh yes," she blurted. I became aware that her movements had speeded up. My skull clearly was the best surface for her to slide her clitoris against so I knelt there, under her school uniform, and endured the fierce frottage above me which surrounded me.

"Oh yes," she spat as her wild jerking took on an almost feverish intensity.

"Oh yessss," she hissed approaching her climax at long last. Her thighs gripped me and held me as a great writhing seething pulsating orgasm spasmed through her, followed by another one. I could feel her shake all over then it passed. She relaxed her grip and I knelt backwards in desperation, breathing in clean fresh air.

I had read somewhere that a woman's body is like a finely tuned musical instrument which requires two people to play it. I was still in awe at the way women attained their orgasms.

We looked at each other for the first time. She was a plain faced girl with gold rimmed spectacles and full red lips. We smiled at each other as she turned to join her classmates by the door. I stared at her pleated skirt swinging from side to side and it was difficult to imagine that my head had just been under it as she looked so prim and scholarly.

Brenda Mahon walked up to me. I looked up at her as she smiled back. She looked very embarrassed having to perform a sexual act in front of her head teacher and her classmates. I smiled back, aware that my face looked greasy and I had pubic hair between my teeth. I must have smelled disgusting as well. Nevertheless she grinned and shook her long blonde hair and reached under her skirt and extracted her knickers which were pink with tiny pale blue roses on them. She pulled them over my head and swivelled them so that the warm crotch was over my nostrils and my eyes stared out defiantly from each leg hole. I felt humiliated but everyone laughed including the insane head teacher.

She slid them off me and took up a position in front of me. I knelt back on my heels and leant forward my head tilted back. She shuffled towards me and stood with her high heels on each side of my knees. My face was now in contact with her tartan pleats which hid her thighs. She slowly pulled up her skirt to waist level and held it there. I stared in wonderment at her nylon slip. It matched her knickers and was basically pink with minute pale blue roses on it. The hem of her petticoat was pale blue and very lacy. I could see the outline of her suspender clips through the semi-transparent nylon; I could even see her black stockings and pubic hair through her petticoat also. Her waist slip was very full and flared out in front of me.

"Head up skirt Tom," she whispered pulling up her petticoat, and draping it over me, followed by her thick pleats. She rearranged her clothing so that only my lower torso and legs could be seen. Sliding further forward she pushed her hairy opening firmly into my face as I stuck out my tongue.

It did not take long for her to achieve her orgasm and I re-emerged from under her skirt a sticky smelly mess. My penis oozed precum which drooled onto my thigh.

"Next girl please, oh yes Helen Bickerton, how are you? We haven't seen you recently have we?" said Miss Wiff-Naseford suddenly adopting the royal 'we'.

"No Headmistress," said the girl with long auburn curls pulling up her skirt to reveal pure white lace edged French knickers, "I have been at the camp, as part of my award training scheme," she continued now standing in front of me.

"We had a marvellous time, learning field craft and other useful skills," she said sliding her frillies down to her knees. "We did quite a bit of hiking and map reading and it was hard work," she said stepping out of them.

"Really, that must have been challenging for you all," said Miss Wiff-Naseford watching her student wiping my face with her knickers. My penis stiffened as their conversation progressed.

"Yes Helen, the award scheme is very well received by future employers", said the head teacher watching Miss Bickerton stand astride my knees, her skirt pushing against my upturned face.

"And further more it is good for discipline and fosters initiative. I wish all my girls would enter the scheme," she continued as she stared at the tall willowy nineteen-year old methodically raise her skirt and petticoat.

"Yes Headmistress, I would recommend it to anyone who enjoys the outdoor life."

She stared down at me and said, "Head up skirt Tom, and the other good thing about the award scheme is that you get to know the other girls better."

"Indeed Helen and these are the friends you will value all your life no doubt," said the headmistress, now intrigued to see Miss Bickerton shaking down her pleats all about me as my raging erection bobbed about aimlessly beneath her.

The keen eyed Amelia Wiff-Naseford watched my moving head altering the contours of Helen's skirt as I searched for her vagina and began licking and sucking her labia and clitoris.

The head teacher would have seen the girl's concertina pleats open and contract as she guided my face upwards into the most pleasurable position between her legs. She would have also noticed her open and bend her knees slightly in readiness for her masturbation.

"I must ask the school secretary to write a letter to all parents reminding them of the value of the scheme," she continued eyeing up the long legged girl with the naked boy's head up her skirt.

She must have taken in the quivering, flexing movements of her knees and wild jerking movements of my head up her skirt and smiled. Her punishment session was continuing and my stiff unrelieved aching erection tracing patterns in the air would have confirmed that fact to her.

She would have watched Helen Bickerton mercilessly wipe herself vigorously over my face, pushing my skirt-trapped head brutally from side to side so as to achieve a complete and satisfactory orgasm.

She would not have witnessed my slime coated face surrounded by her thrashing swishing petticoat, crackling with static. She would not have noticed me struggling to breathe inside the hot underskirt atmosphere, neither could she have smelled the intense pervasive odour of 'cunt' which seemed to draw me ever deeper into her vagina and prevented me from escaping this torment.

"And another thing Helen," she said peering over her dark glasses, "I believe your sister is coming to join us next year, is that correct?"

"Yes, yes, yes, yessssssssss," she screamed as my head was mashed between her shuddering quivering thighs. "Yes, yes, yessss," she hissed and spat, as she squeezed my face as tightly as she could beneath her pleated skirt. "Yes, yes, yessss," she said pulling herself off me, leaving me kneeling, sweat running down my chest.

"Yes I thought so; I remember I met her once with you and your parents. Now when was that," mumbled poor old Miss Amelia Wiff-Naseford apparently unaware that she had just seen Helen Bickerton achieve an orgasm, possibly for the first time in the young girl's life.

The next member of Class 2B to step forward was Elaine Radford.

I turned and watched her walk across the room towards me. I gulped as I saw her. She was truly awe inspiring. She must have been six foot four inches tall even without her four inch heels. Her dark hair cascaded down her shoulders and back as she glided towards me, her hips swivelling from side to side.

Her knee length school skirt twirled and flicked up to reveal the slightest glimpse of white petticoat lace. She had a classic hour-glass figure with a prominent bust only just restrained by her grey v-neck sweater which looked far to small on her. I couldn't help but focus on her nipples as she stood next to me.

"Knickers off please Elaine. My, my, I'd forgotten how tall you were, my goodness what an attractive girl you are too," she exclaimed.

This was something I did agree with. From my kneeling position I stared mouth open as she steadied herself using the top of my head as a support and slipped down her luscious looking lemon yellow lace trimmed nylon panties. I noticed the gusset was soiled. She stepped out of them and slipped them over my head pulling the warm panty-crotch against my nostrils.

This was greeted by giggles from the other girls in the corner by the door. I grinned and pretended that I was not offended.

She stood in front of me and placed one shoe next to my knee and did the same with her other shoe. I knelt back, still with her panties over my face. My penis again sought relief and pointed upwards toward the clock. I noticed that it was almost midday. Two hours of non stop pleasuring was leaving me exhausted, hungry and painfully frustrated.

Elaine reached down and pulled her knicker legs to one side so that they dropped down to my neck and remained there like a wispy nylon scarf. She slouched forward, almost pushing me off balance. My head rested against her unbelievably long thighs. Slowly she eased up her skirt and lemon yellow flared lace edged petticoat and pulled me into her. She then dropped her clothing over me, making sure that she remained modest and that her pleats were even spread around her and over me.

Once again I was staring at another young woman's hairy crotch, and enjoying the odour of vagina which filled my nasal passages. She nudged me and pulled my face firmly against her. I felt trapped. I stared at her stomach as my lips began the slow process of bringing her to an orgasm. I dragged my tongue between her labia, easing them apart and exposing her clitoral hood.

From that moment I felt as if I was in control. She flinched when I sucked on her stiffening bud, and then flinched again, shaking her skirts about me. I licked her and she flinched again. She seemed to be totally responsive to every touch. Every touch produced a shaking movement. I watched her body quiver as I licked her over and over again on her clitoral nub. She shook at the least touch; it was like an automatic response.

For what seemed like a quarter of an hour of continuous licking I felt her movements becoming more urgent. Her flinching yielded to rocking, which made way for gentle jerking, which was overtaken my furious jerking which ended with a great exuberant, crescendo of bucking hips, shaking petticoats and flicking skirt pleats.

Just when I thought she was 'coming' she lifted her long cool leg up and placed it over my shoulder pulling me further into her. I felt her smooth black nylon stocking slide against my ear and cheek then her warm inner thigh rest against my face. I felt her high heel dig into my back. I also felt as if I was totally absorbed into the space under her skirt and between her legs and that I, as a person, did not exist and that I remained merely as a masturbatory tool, a mere sexual aid.

By now she was definitely on the home straight. I wondered how she could remain standing on one leg and achieve her orgasm but I didn't have to wait very long to find out.

The vicious bucking and jerking continued until I heard her let out an unearthly groan and my face suddenly became coated with her slimy secretions, as she grabbed me and shuddered roughly against me.

I fought for breath and jerked her off me but she continued to hang on until her orgasm was spent. I remained kneeling passively until she uncoupled her leg from me and swung it over my face so that I now faced her buttocks under her skirt. She pushed back on me and shimmied, rubbing her buttocks over me.

This was met by laughter, so she did it again. I tried to duck my way out from under her uniform but she reached behind her and held me firmly against her. Because she was so tall her skirt appeared to have extra length in it so I could not extract myself from under it with falling sideways and risking injury. It now appeared that 'buttock skirt-trapping' was to be added to the repertoire of punishments to be handed out.

She leant forward and pulled her skirt tightly inwards so that again I was pushed into her derriere. This game seemed to produce more laughter and I realised that I had to put up with it. Eventually she flipped up her pleats and I ducked out.

My hair was completely soaked with sweat and vaginal lubrication; my face was plastered with mucous, slime and pubic hair, even my ears felt damp and sticky. I felt and looked dreadful and my penis dripping precum, gradually shrank back to its flaccid state.

Miss Radford lifted off her lemon coloured panties from my neck and unexpectantly kissed me full on the lips and asked whether I would like to sleep with them that night.

it suddenly dawned on me that after Class 2B I had the whole of the third year to get through and the other members of staff. Would I ever complete this mammoth task?

(continued in part 21)