David's Tall Girls' School Ch. 26

"Off, off, off, off," the women chanted clearly having drunk far too much.

"Off, off, off," sang Miss Wiff-Naseford shuffling around, snapping her fingers like a wild-eyed revitalised zombie. They were clearly like a pack of wolves.

There was a smell of the hunt in the air and I was the quarry. They closed in on me and unbuttoned my shirt and dragged it off. Then down came my underpants from which my huge penis sprung out horizontally like an uncoiled spring. Off came my shoes and socks and I was left naked in the centre of the room. The music appeared out of place as it was a boisterous Rock and Roll number and the last thing I wanted to do was dance and jive.

Someone tripped me up and I fell on my back. I was pinned down by my legs, feet and hands. From nowhere the ropes and leather straps were dragged out from the four corners of the room and I was again fettered by my wrists and ankles. The party had taken a turn for the worse. All around me and above me I watched the women leering and laughing at my predicament. I could hardly focus because of my treble whiskies.

Others were lurching around with bottles and plates. I watched nervously as high heels came dangerously close to my face and private parts. I was treated to many upskirt views of frilly white knickers and petticoats, as well as stockings and suspenders. Miss Wiff-Naseford appeared to be dancing the Tango with herself with a gin bottle in her hand.

I glanced up to see Angela Richardson waving a pair of knickers at me. She had obviously just taken them off. The geography teacher steadied herself with the help of Lesley Hopkins and stood astride my shoulders staring with a glazed expression into my face. I looked at her legs. She was wearing dark blue stockings under a wide flared royal blue taffeta dress which was clearly buoyed out by stiff net petticoats.

My penis unrolled itself and extended up my stomach towards my navel, with my glans now fully exposed. I salivated as she placed one cruel looking high heeled shoe next to my cheek, and then she swung the other over to my other cheek. The loud music and incessant conversation drowned my thoughts but all I could think of was that her pussy was amazingly hairy as I looked up her dress. She shook her hips at me and laughed.

"How are you Mr.Peeping Tom? Are you getting an eyeful?" she blurted almost spilling the drink she held in her hand.

I noticed that she had been eating as there were crumbs around her mouth. Lesley Hopkins, wearing a bright patterned skirt put one of her shoes on my stomach and rubbed her sole against my smooth skin. I stared up powerless to do anything except stare up the clothes of these tall drunken women. I was at their complete mercy.

"Can you see my fanny, pervert?" asked Miss Richardson clearly on a roll. I nodded and smiled as if seeking approval. She screeched at me "You're just a bloody little pervert, you pervert."

I looked askance, thinking that if she was going to stand over me, with her legs apart wearing a skirt and no underwear then I was bound to be able to see her vagina. What planet was she from?

"You're just a little pervert, what are you?" she said as she stabbed me in the shoulder with her stiletto heel.

"Ouch that hurt and wasn't necessary," I said staring at the tops of her stockings amongst the billowing layers of petticoat only a foot above my face. She twisted her heels inwards so that my head was pinched between her shoes.

"You're a pervert aren't you? Say it! "she screamed at me above the music.

"Hello Tom, are you enjoying the party?" said a voice behind me and I pulled on my straps as I recognised Celia the nymphomaniac school secretary.

She was wearing her 'seductress's dress' which I had unzipped in her flat with, I assume, her basque. She gave me a playful kick on my head as she towered above me staring at Miss Richardson.

I hoped that Celia's presence would put off the sadistic Miss Richardson but she twisted her shoes in further until I couldn't lift my head. "What are you?" she demanded curtly.

I said, "A fanny-sniffing pervert staring up at a freak show's snatch,"

"What? you fucking cheeky sod," she said squatting down and sitting open legged on my chest with her skirt and petticoats pulled behind her.

I looked down my nose at her glistening labia just a few inches from my face. I looked into her eyes and saw sheer contempt in her face. Her stockings appeared very dark against her thighs. Celia, behind me, took a swig of brandy and pushed Miss Richardson off me. She fell backwards spreading her legs across my face.

Instantly Celia was on her sprawling all over her and me. All around me I heard squeals, screams and cursing. Legs and shoes threshed around wildly above me. Heels dug into my face, shoulders and neck. I moved my head violently from side to side trying to avoid them as the women fought over me and above me.

Celia's arse landed in my face, followed by Angela Richardson's knee. I jerked my head to one side and dodged a well aimed kick from Lesley Hopkins which struck Celia in the ribs. I thought that I was in serious trouble lying flat on my back naked with my private parts on show amongst the scuffling and drunken cat fight above me.

Then, out of the blue, I heard a gunshot.

The room froze and I saw Miss Wiff-Naseford wave a starting pistol in the air.

"I'll not have my staff fighting in my study. Where the bloody hell do you think you are? A western saloon?" she said staring at everyone with a hawk like expression.

"I can explain," said Celia looking flushed with alcohol.

"I don't want any excuses or explanations; all I want you to do is pleasure yourselves on the Tom so that we can complete his punishment. Is that too much to ask or do I have to treat you all like schoolgirls?" she muttered, clearly eager for me to finish off Angela Richardson who remained sprawled over me with her legs apart and her stockings on show.

The teachers appeared to suddenly sober up and I watched them gather around to watch Angela and I 'at it'. Much to Celia's annoyance Angela squatted on my face with her dress and petticoats billowing all around me.

Underneath her nylon net underskirt everything appeared pale blue and I was completely hidden from my waist upwards. She held the top of my head through her clothes and began bouncing on my face. The narrow 1889 pillow was nowhere to be seen and found it quite painful to have my head resting on the carpet. Her bouncing degenerated into fierce jerking as she wiped her clitoris over my forehead, nose and tongue. Clearly the contours of my face were perfect for aiding her masturbation. My face became very sticky and slimy with her sexual secretions which flowed freely from between her legs.

"That's it Angela give it bit more oomph," interjected the by now sprightly headmistress. I thought that the gunshot had cleared the air and provided a focus for the rest of the evening's proceedings.

"Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah," panted Miss Richardson clearly close to achieving her goal. My face was just one slippery mess and as I breathed in her odour I was aware that my penis was straining for attention and leaking precum.

"Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah," she continued vocalising her feelings and not caring that her colleagues were watching her every move. Her petticoats crackled and swished over me. I wanted to wank myself into oblivion but couldn't. The straps really hurt me and I would have paid anyone anything to suck me off.

"Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah," she cried out, this time on the brink of her orgasm. I watched as she dragged her pubic hair up and down my face with more and more ferocity. My neck and shoulder muscles ached as she continued.

"Ah, ah, ah, ah, oh, oh, ah, oh, ah," she continued sliding herself over me in small stabbing movements.

"Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah." She appeared so close. I had to swallow the fluid seeping out of her as it was so copious and was gathering in my eye sockets. I swallowed and stuck my tongue out catching her sensitised nub. I prayed that she would hurry up and 'come' and she did.

"Ah, ah, ah, aaaaaaah!" she screeched as she convulsed rhythmically over my face. I watched her thighs shudder and quiver as wave after wave hit her like a Tsunami.

"Oh yes, oh yes, that was fantastic, fantastic." She said whipping her clothes to one side and smiling into my face. She was no longer the 'cruel mistress' and clearly had come to her senses since the gunshot. She even patted my cheek as she stood up and stepped off me.

Almost immediately Lesley Hopkins swung a foot over me and I stared up her wide her brightly patterned knee length flared skirt which was supported by a multi-layered tiered petticoat. Her skirt appeared to be completely full of petticoat and it swayed from side to side as she swivelled her hips above me.

Needless to say my penis stiffened once again as I watched her delicious dark brown stockings disappear under all those crisp nylon hems. She bent her knees to allow me a less obstructed view between her legs. She wasn't wearing any knickers and her ginger curls glistened under her suspender straps which gripped the tops of her stockings. Her legs looked so strong and athletic, but at the same time entirely feminine. One could tell that she was a games mistress even without prior knowledge. I yearned to lick her fanny which protruded noticeably from its hairy nest.

I looked at her shoes which were open-toed black sling-back sandals with three inch heels. She noticed me staring at them and also saw that my penis twitched. She lifted her foot and placed her sole on my shoulder. It felt exquisite. The roughness of her leather shoe seemed to stimulate me further and I pulled at my straps trying to move my face under it. She could tell what I wanted and slid her shoe onto my face. I breathed in the smell of leather as she caressed my face with her stockinged toes which were hardly covered by the black leather straps.

She straightened up and placed her feet on each side of my upturned face. She bent her knees and I watched her slowly squat on my face with her long legs splayed apart. My chest was suddenly covered with soft petticoat net as she rearranged her pretty party skirt and under trappings around me and over me. Her cunt was already dripping with secretions as she slowly but surely began sliding herself over me in the now familiar fashion.

She smelled very strongly of sweat and vagina, and it was almost unpleasant compared with some of the other cunts I had licked and sucked during the past five days. I was soon delving inside her and as she secreted more of her juices her odour became more agreeable and less bitter.

Soon the games-mistress was bucking herself violently over my nose and mouth. Her petticoat thrashed about above me and crackled with static. The froufrou sounds were amazing as nylon layer slid over nylon nylon, and nylon petticoat slid against nylon stockings. My face remained steady as she began frantically 'bringing herself off' on me in fierce little jerks interspersed with wiping herself over my nostrils. My nose was dragged up and down her cleft as if she was attempting to scratch an itch.

"Oh yes," she whimpered as she sought to extract every sensation from the contours of my face. Above me her vagina now streamed out lubrication and once again I felt I was drowning in a sea of fanny juice. I snorted to clear my airways and licked and lapped at her clitoris as it passed overhead.

"Oh yes, yes, yes," she spat, clearly gritting her teeth with urgency. I watched her thighs quiver and shake then felt something well up inside her. From nowhere involuntary shudders and shivering began as her pelvic muscles contracted and spasmed.

"Oooooh yesss," she cried out, now in the full grip of a powerful orgasm. I watched entranced as her body shook while the orgasm ebbed and died away.

"Oh my goodness, oh my fucking hell, that was good. How good was that? Oh my fucking hell," she chuntered to herself as she stood up and wiped herself with her discarded panty.

Martine Hamilton was next to stand astride my face. She wore a black knee-length cocktail dress with a high collar and long sleeves. Her hair had been pulled back into a French pleat and she looked very sophisticated as one would naturally expect from a teacher of French. She wore quite a modest simple white nylon petticoat under her party frock and as she opened her legs further I found myself staring at a pair of white loose-legged lacy knickers above the tops of her black stockings.

I must admit that her lingerie was stunning. Needless to say her suspenders matched her knickers and the same lace trim even decorated the hem of her flared petticoat. She twirled above me and her dress swung out so that I could also admire her shapely legs. She was a truly an erotic sight. My penis was again rock hard and hopelessly straining for relief. I noticed Miss Wiff-Naseford standing next to Miss Hamilton urging her on.

" Get him to stick his tongue inside you and wiggle it," she barked above the music which now was blasting out of the small record player.

"OK I will," said the French Teacher gradually lowering her haunches onto my sticky face.

Immediately I pushed my tongue between her labia and moved it around. I heard the woman giggle girlishly above me as she steadied herself on my head. Miss Hamilton was clearly not used to being stimulated my tongues and her laughter told me that she was either nervous or embarrassed. The more I probed her the more she giggled, until she broke down with a fit of laughter.

"That tickles," she said shouting above the music. I looked at her legs splayed obscenely in front of me and at the growing damp patch in her knicker crotch. I probed her again and she told me once more that I was tickling her. I didn't know what to do so I moved my tongue to her clitoris. I flicked at her hood several times until I saw that her nub stiffened and became more pronounced.

"Oh my, oh my," she cried out.

I stared at the underside of her petticoat which was draped across my eyes and drank in her female odours which now poured out from between her portals.

"Don't stop whatever it is that you are doing to me," she carried on almost singing with glee.

She no longer laughed and was clearly taking her pleasures very seriously. She pushed herself down on me and pulled my head up so that my mouth and her clitoris were almost locked together. I sucked at it and licked, probed, delved and massaged it with my lips, teeth and tongue. I understood by her breathing that she was unused to such attentions and I now began to wonder whether I should fuck her before I was finally released from Miss Wiff-Naseford's insane punishment session.

"Don't stop, Please don't stop," the thirty-something year old pleaded as my nose was pulled firmly into her thick pubic hair. I felt very hot and sweaty under her dress and nylon underclothes. Her loose legged knickers fortunately allowed me complete access to her nether regions and I settled down to a long session of cunnilingus with this comparative virgin to my skills.

Five minutes passed and Miss Martine Hamilton began groaning and switching. Every new lick was greeted by a moan until from out of the blue her twitchings continued independently.

She was now 'coming' and I drove her further and further until she could take no more. She pushed me off her and told me that she was now 'too sensitive' and would 'piss herself' if stimulated further. I knew that young mammals, if stimulated on their genitalia by their mothers, would urinate so I decided to desist. I lay there in awe and watched her thighs shake uncontrollably. Inside her clothing I felt I was in my own private porn theatre and that the action appeared almost larger than life. When she had finished she stood up and readjusted her underwear and left me lying in a pool of sweat.

By this stage I was almost sticking to the carpet. I looked up at the teachers who were now back in their little groups and talking loudly. A pair of high heels appeared to be backing towards me dangerously close. They were four inch black patent leather sling-backs and looked lethal. I stared at the black seams on the fine denier stockings and strained my neck to see further up the skirt. Underneath the emerald green skirt were masses and masses of stiff nylon netting. She transferred her weight from one foot to the other and the skirt swayed outwards. She shuffled backwards until her heels touched my cheek. Immediately she swivelled around and looked down.

"Sorry young man," she said beaming at me her face clearly flushed with alcohol, "I didn't see you down there," she continued pulling her skirt to one side in order to maintain eye contact with me.

"Why don't you squat on the Tom while I hold your drink Gillian," said the woman next to her. The woman introduced herself as Gillian Reeves-Thompson the biology mistress. The other woman, a curvaceous brunette, also in her early forties told me that she was Claire Simpson the English and physics teacher.

I stared up at Gillian as she released her skirt and it spilled over me, with her petticoat cascading over my face as she squatted on my face. She opened her legs and I was treated to a view of smooth white thighs framed by black stocking tops and a white suspender belt. She wore no knickers. Her pubic hair was dark brown and appeared very soft and wispy. She edged forward and shook her skirt over me. Her calf length skirt and stiff white petticoat covered me completely and I heard her resume her conversation with Miss Simpson.

"Pass me my drink please Claire, thanks; and what did you think of Geraldine Wilson's practical paper, good wasn't it?"

" Yes and young Helen Bickerton's work was outstanding too," Claire exclaimed standing next to the squatting woman in her white blouse, long full-circle taffeta emerald green skirt.

Anyone who cared to cast their eyes over the scene would have noticed my puny thin legs pulled outwards towards two corners of the room and my large erect penis dribbling precum on my stomach. They would have also seen my head, chest and shoulders completely concealed under Gillian Reeves-Thompson's huge skirt and petticoats. They would only just be able to see her skirt moving slightly where my head was busy under her. My tongue by now had slobbered between her labia and was licking and flicking her clitoris. Only her eyes and disjointed speech would have given the game away.

I continued breathing in the odours from between Miss Reeves-Thompson's damp thighs as I ploughed on determined to pleasure this woman and her friend, knowing that there was only the kitchen staff left.

I pushed her ever onwards until she began screaming and jerking uncontrollably.

"Oh no," I thought, "We've got a bloody 'screamer' here." From under her skirt her screams were partially muffled but it was loud enough, I thought, to attract the rest of the school.

"I'm sorry," she screamed to the rest of the room, "This is fucking fantastic," she screamed on.

I was half expecting Miss Wiff- Naseford to fire her starting-pistol again but instead someone turned up the music.

Her screaming continued and I fought hard not to lose the rhythm of my probing and clit-sucking. The screaming went on and on until she came. I felt her muscles tighten as she held onto by head thrusting downwards onto my slime covered face. For two long minutes little waves palpitated inside her and travelled up and down her vulva.

Her screaming became embarrassingly loud and I prayed that she would end soon. All of a sudden she stopped and slowly slid off me and sat on my chest with her legs splayed out in a provocative and lewd manner.

"Fucking hell, that was fantastic," she croaked, her voice clearly strained through her excessive incessant screaming.