Breaking the Duck! Ch. 02

So that was where they planned having their proposed Bacchanalia. The old stable block was at the far end of the school grounds and was due to be demolished but was used to store the scenery for the school drama productions and the music department stored music stands and the folding orchestra rostrum boxes in the loft. It was no surprise that some of the girls had access to the main building there were dozens of keys...virtually all staff had one, in fact I had a key to the upstairs loft door myself.

I heard the sound of a cigarette butt being ground out in the gravel path and then two sets of feet moving away and waited until I was sure that they had gone before climbing onto the seat and peered over the top just in time to watch their uniformed backs disappearing around the corner back towards the school.

I had already determined to be at the old stable block that night, I had my own key, nobody else could get to the loft or the gallery it had its own external staircase but from up there I could watch most of the chamber below. These girls were planning a big party where there would no doubt be all sorts of incredible sexual promiscuity. Just the thing that I so enjoyed watching. The idea of all those young couples together at one giant orgy, groping, fondling, kissing and fucking and probably much, much more was already filling me with expectations of a night of vicarious thrills, the fulfilment of a voyeurs wildest dream.

I had no misgivings about spying upon my pupils, they looked so sweet and innocent in their blue striped blazers, grey pleated skirts, white socks and straw hats, but I knew different; they were nothing but little whores. If I thought that things were getting too far out of hand or that any of the younger girls were involved I could call a halt to the thing immediately. I had a perfect excuse to be there...if challenged I would say that I had heard about the party and had come to investigate and put a stop to it!

I arrived back at the school around nine o'clock and parked my car on the staff carpark where it would not seem out of place. Members of staff frequently used the school carpark when going into Oxford for the evening. Miss Jolly, one of the drama teachers was usually so drunk by the end of Saturday night that her car often stayed on the car park all weekend and it was not unknown for Ida Jolly to bunk down on the staff room couch if she was unable to make her way home. She was harmless and so close to retirement that even the headmistress turned a blind eye to her little peccadillos. I knew that she had a half bottle of vodka in her knitting bag and kept herself topped up through the day something that would definitely have got her dismissed if discovered but I liked Ida and her secret was safe with me.

I didn't make a practice of spying or peeping on my colleagues but I knew that Jane Craddock one of the gym and sports teachers was having an ongoing affair with Louise Dupont the French mistress. I had stumbled across them by accident one evening down by the river and had watched them kiss and caress each other curled tightly together on a picnic blanket in the long grass, their bicycles chained together against a nearby tree in a steel parody of their rider's entanglement. It was the first time that my voyeurist peeping had brought a lesbian couple to my attention but their mutual masturbation did not hold the same thrill for me as watching a guy and girl making love or petting. I never saw them again and I assumed that their regular liaisons were conducted in their own beds.

I was well settled into my chosen position by the time that the first of the party goers started to arrive. I had made myself a comfortable nest of old theatrical curtains from which I had a clear view of the old stables below. The ground floor was adequately if dimly lit with candles in jam jars which had been placed at strategic points so that the barn was not in total darkness. The building was one of the old fashioned style with a dozen or so stalls which provided the revellers with readymade screened off cubicles in which they could engage in whatever lewd activities they chose. Most of the girls appear to have brought blankets, quilts or cushions from their dormitories which made their intentions for the evening very clear.

By nine-thirty the boys had started to arrive. They appeared to mostly be either pupils from the local boy's schools or first year students from the colleges. They came well provisioned with bottles of spirits, wine and beer and in less than an hour their party was in full swing. The only thing that was missing was music, but I do not believe that anybody was interested in dancing, that was not what they have come for. Everybody was smoking and the building was quickly so full of smoke that I was able to risk lighting a cigarette of my own as I watched them. Within the hour a lot of drink had been consumed and most of the revellers had paired off heading for various cosy spots in the old stalls, mostly picked out by the girls who appeared to be simply leading their chosen male back to their blanket or makeshift mattress. It was almost like watching a tribal mating ritual with each female choosing their mate and copulating with him.

There were several couples that I did not recognise, local girls and chaps from other schools or colleges but the atmosphere seemed friendly enough and there were no unwelcome gate crashers. By 11:30pm there were probably close to forty or fifty young people packed into a writhing mass of bodies in the old barn.

No one saw or heard me stretched out on my soft bed of curtains but I had a perfect view of most of the stalls and was taking it all in, not missing a thing. The couple wrapped up in each other immediately below me were a bit difficult to figure out at first. They had been curled up together kissing passionately but next time that I looked the configuration had changed and seemed to be a jumble of legs with only the girl's long straw coloured hair and torso visible. I peered through the smoky atmosphere and suddenly realised that the boy was crouched between her open legs his head half concealed by her mauve skirt and his face pressed to her crotch. The wild, excited expression on the girls face told me that she was enjoying the meal that his lips and tongue were making of her pussy. He was loudly slurping and lapping at her labia and nibbling at her clitoris with his lips and teeth. As I watched he brought his hand down and unceremoniously rammed a stiff finger into her vagina causing her to jerk and gasp with surprise.

"Oh yes, eat me good, Tim!" She hissed and grabbed his hair pulling his face harder between her thighs and I could see that his lips and face were smeared with her pussy juices. "DO IT! Make me cum...please!" She urged him.

As I watched her writhing became more and more urgent and I felt the familiar tingling in my own pussy and knew that my own sex juices were starting to flow and dampen my thin cotton knickers. I was tempted to bring my fingers down to caress my own little Hooded Lady but the night was early yet and the soft moans and sighs coming from the occupied stalls below told of more exciting things happening.

My attention was drawn to another couple who were snuggled down on what appeared to be a quilted sleeping bag. The girl, a blonde with a long pony tail was already totally naked except for black stockings and a suspender belt and was sitting astride her boy's muscular legs, his trousers bunched around his ankles and his massive erection standing like a fleshy flag pole in front of her.

The sight of his member made me gasp, I was amazed at the size of his erect cock, it looked as if it would tear this small girl in two if he tried to penetrate her and it was wet and smeared with her saliva where she had obviously been giving it the sensual attentions of her mouth and lips. She had the huge tree trunk grasped in both hands and was pumping at it slowly her small fists gripping so tightly that the head of his penis was bright purple and swollen to the point of bursting. She looked up and I saw that it was Lynette Bray, so the guy must be the young rugby playing stud from St. Michael's Boys School that she had set her sights on. The enormous cock that she had grasped in her hands promised to fulfil her wished for desires and expectations.

"Fuck Lynnie, you give a really great deep throat...but I want to shag now...!" The boy mumbled petulantly. He looked quite pretty and had a super muscle bound body but from the sound of his voice would probably be declined for the school brains trust.

"Oh God, YES!" Lynette cooed and raised herself up until she was poised directly over the head of his penis and then started to lower her body down until she was impaling herself on his massive tool. Her back was arched, her head thrown back and her mouth fell wide open as she slid slowly down, his thick cock stretching her vagina and her sex juices running freely down the length to pool at his groin. She stopped, her soft round breasts bouncing as her chest heaved with her panting lust and then Les grasped her hips in his meaty hands and thrust down so that she was forced to take his remaining length inside her.

"A-h-h-h-h-o-o-o-o-o-o!" She screamed loudly as his huge cock rammed into her as far as it would go. Her squeal was loud enough to throw a blanket of silence over the entire barn and then gradually the others started to giggle and a couple of the lads began clapping.

My own pussy was tingling as I imagined the sensation of having that immense rod of male muscle thrust between my own legs filling my little tight vagina and stretching it to the limit and I felt my juices trickling down my thigh as though this young rugby player had turned on a tap inside of me. The fantasy was terrifying but exhilarating at one and the same time perhaps because I knew that it was never going to happen to me that watching the pleasure of other was all that I was likely to experience.

Lynette was bouncing up and down on her partner his cock thrusting in and out of her dripping pussy and loud sobs being torn from her throat with every thrust, she was riding the boy as if he was trotting horse and he was just lying there taking it.

My eye flickered around the room observing the heaving buttocks and bobbing heads in the stalls until they came to rest on a girl that I did not recognise who was wearing a skimpy cheap pink and black bra but was naked from the waist down and whose legs were being held wide apart by another half-naked girl and a boy. She was spread-eagled on the floor of a stall and another man his trousers around one ankle was ploughing into her, pumping incredibly hard and fast whilst the others held her wide open to him.

I was horrified! I was positive that the poor girl was being raped until I realised that she was laughing loudly and shouting encouragement to the boy who was fucking her. She was kneading her own breasts through her bra and the boy who was holding her right ankle was rubbing the sole of her foot up and down his erect penis protruding from the fly of his jeans.

As I watched the fellow between her legs reached the point of no return and with a loud grunt, pulled out and jerked furiously at his stiff prick until he exploded in a stream of semen that splashed onto the girl's belly and legs.

"Oh, you bastard... You pulled out...!" The girl screamed at him. "I wanted you to juice inside me!"

Almost without pause the two men changed places one holding the girl's ankle whilst the other pushed down his jeans and knelt down between her thighs and thrust himself into her.

"Don't worry Sheila... I'm going to fill you up... and then some..." Her new lover laughed.

"I want to go next!" A voice called from over the half wall of the stall. The foursome had attracted an audience and several of the other kids had drifted into a circle to watch Sheila being pounded and to laugh and applaud. The casual way in which they all accepted the situation told me that this was not something new to any of them. I did not want to speculate how many men Sheila would take between her legs before the party was over.

The girl holding Sheila's leg looked back at the speaker and wriggled her bum which was clad in the tiniest of bright yellow bikini briefs. Her large breasts were only just held in check by a matching bra which appeared to me to be at least one bra size and one cup size too small for comfort.

"How about giving me a bit, right here and now?" She suggested lecherously and bent over tugging her bikini down to display her slit from behind.

The circle of watchers started to chant "Macaco!...Macaco!...Macaco!"

It was the Portuguese word for monkey, I thought that it was probably the boy's nickname but found out a lot later that it was youthful slang for copulation from behind.

"I'll cover that bet..." A further voice put in and a chubby, scruffy looking young guy with greasy long hair pushed his way to the front and started to line up behind the girl dragging a limp penis from his worn trousers.

"Fuck Off, Joey!" She spat, quickly tugging her bikini bottom into place again. "I don't want crabs, thank you!" The crowd laughed and the fat boy was hustled to the rear.

The atmosphere in the stables was getting to be a bit over excited and was reaching a level of debauchery that I found quite shocking particularly as most of the young females present were my own students but it had all aroused me to the point where I wanted to tend to my own needs, quite urgently.

I had noticed that some of the 'guests' were beginning to wander off or go outside for some fresh air. Kids hanging about outside would make it difficult for me to leave and I suspected that more than a few would still be sating their sexual energies at dawn...it was time to leave whilst the going was good.

I was shuffling backwards on all fours towards the door when Lynette Bray finally made her orgasm, still impaled on that giant penis she had so wished for. Her explosion of screams and howls of rapture and fulfilment stunned the stables into momentary silence and the loud rasping male sigh that followed signalled that Les was probably also a happy man.

The round of cheers and applause that followed provided me with a distraction to slip away and make a dash for my car unseen.

*

Chapter Five: September

The school term ended the following week and so I had almost six weeks of spare time on my hands barring the days that I had to put in at staff meetings and the commitments that I had to giving private instrument lessons. One of the redeeming factors of teaching is the long summer recess when it is possible, if you are close enough to London, to attend nearly all of the concerts during The Proms season at the Royal Albert Hall and Cadogan Hall during July, August and September. It was how I usually spent most of my summer holiday. I had not missed being at the Last Night of the Proms in fifteen years.

I would usually go up to town for a week at the end of August and enjoy a week of luxury at the Shelby House Hotel. I would take one of their best rooms and spend ten days rediscovering the British Museum, the Natural History Museum and Regents Park Zoo and catch some afternoon matinee performances at the West End theatres and cinemas and dine in the finest restaurants and cafés after the evening concert.

My yearly excursion also allowed me to make a covert shopping expedition into Soho to purchase imported 'under the counter' scarce erotic paperback novels. That year I had decided to treat myself to one of the new penis shaped battery operated vibrators which were being made much of in the continental soft porn magazines and were being promoted by the shops that I visited as the perfect clitoral stimulator.

I had selected a really darling little vibrator which was not much bigger than a fountain pen and was easily tucked into my handbag but mostly I liked it because of the opaque acrylic head which reminded me of the glass phallus that my house-share partner Teresa had when we were students.

"These are really popular with the older ladies, lovey," said the tattooed girl with multiple facial piercings who was at the till in 'Terry's Love Arcade', a small sex shop off of the Charing Cross Road. It was one of the shops that I occasionally browsed because the staff were nearly all women and so I felt a little less embarrassed at being there.

"Really?" I said forcing a smile. Condescending little bitch. I suppose to a twenty-year old somebody approaching forty would appear old but at least she didn't act surprised that I wanted a sex toy.

"How about a tube of lubricant...older ladies sometimes..." I guess she saw the look on my face and decided that discretion was the better part of valour and shut up.

I decided to let her off the hook with a smile. "That isn't a problem I suffer from..." I confided truthfully.

"Nor me! I've got the biggun! Like this one!" She added with a confidential grin and produced a clear cellophane box from beneath the counter containing a giant version of my little toy. The thing must have been at least ten inches long and all of two inches in diameter in pink wrinkly plastic. "His name is Major Tom... Because David Bowie is my favourite dream lover...see!"

I didn't see. "You have given it a name?"

"Yeah, well you've got to, haven't you?" She chuckled swapping her chewing gum from one side of her mouth to the other. She dropped my purchase into a plain brown paper bag. "After all he is your best friend... isn't he?"

It was that purchase which indirectly changed everything forever.

My little 'friend' had remained in my handbag until I got home to Oxford a day or two later and it was only then that I realised that it required batteries and I had not thought to purchase any.

I didn't want very much other shopping and so I walked down to Woolworths in the Cornmarket, bought several packs of my all-important batteries and then collected a few groceries and was making my way back towards George Street when right in front of me I saw Joanne Carey the ex-pupil that I had spied on a couple of months back shagging with her boyfriend on her father's lounge carpet. She was about to turn into St. Michael's Street and so I called out to her and rushed forward not really looking where I was going.

She stopped and turned and smiled as she recognised me but just as I reached her I tripped, stumbled and the heel of my shoe went out from under me and I tumbled in a heap at her feet.

"Oh Miss Catz, are you alright?" She asked kneeling beside me and helping me to sit up.

"I think I am fine. I have just bruised my dignity a little..." I smiled. In fact my hip hurt like bloody hell but I was more concerned about the dirty mark on my nice cream skirt and the hole in the knee of my new stockings.

"Hello then, what's going on here..." A long shadow fell across us and I looked up to see a pair of cream Oxford trousers, leading to a smart purple and green quartered rugby shirt below a handsome face with a pipe sticking out of a broad smile. "Can I help at all...?" He added.

"Oh Craig, there you are... can you help Miss Catz up...she had a fall..."

Craig was better in the flesh than I remembered from watching him energetically screwing Joanne in a dimly lit room through a misted up window. The guy was probably close to six foot tall although he seemed much taller from my sitting position, and was athletically muscled on the chest and shoulders, the badge on his shirt breast proclaimed him to be a rower and my mind flashed back to visions of his powerful legs corded with muscle. He was also older than I had thought, probably closer to twenty-five than twenty. He had short cut dark blonde hair, bright pale blue eyes and a really sweet smile. My eyes were closer to his waist than his face and I suddenly realised that I was staring, fascinated at the huge bulge in his trousers where his flaccid cock was tucked away into his briefs. I tore my eyes away and began tugging at my skirt which had ridden up to expose my thighs and my white suspender belt.