Classroom Etiquette

I'm one of the few male teachers at St Matilda's Academy for Young Ladies, an expensive English private school for the daughters of rather well off parents. I teach a final year class of eighteen to nearly nineteen year old girls, all seeming to want to outdo each other in showing off their wares in the shortest skirts and the tightest, thinnest blouses school regulations allow them to get away with. I consider myself lucky to be working in such a prestigious establishment and such a voyeur's paradise.

Needless to say most of the girls in my class regularly perform in my masturbation fantasies. But another regular performer in my wanking dreams is the Headmistress, Miss Fiona Pemberton. She's about forty, blonde, sophisticated, and a beauty with her good figure usually displayed in a well-filled blouse, a charcoal grey pencil skirt tight over her pert backside and ending just on the knee, black nylons and black high heels that go erotically clickety-clack as she walks along the school corridors.

I hadn't been at St. Matilda's long when one afternoon as school was finishing I heard the sound of Miss Pemberton's heels approaching along a corridor, then there she was beside me.

"You've been at St. Matilda's a while now," she said. "I always give new male teachers a little talk on classroom etiquette soon after they join us. Do you have a moment?"

Miss Pemberton was in her customary outfit. On this occasion her thin white blouse and grey skirt seemed to cling particularly closely to the curves of her breasts and bum. As she spoke she stood in front of me so close I could feel the warmth of her body, and her bulging breasts were all but brushing my shirt. I had no idea what she meant by "classroom etiquette", but I always had time for Miss Fiona Pemberton.

We went into one of the empty classrooms. Miss Pemberton locked the door from the inside, leaving the key in the lock and pulling down the blind over the little window in the door. I wondered why we needed such privacy. She asked me to stand at the front of the room where I'd normally be to take a class. St. Matilda's still used old style classroom desks. Somewhat to my surprise, the normally very formal Miss Pemberton sat herself casually on a desk and addressed me.

"I'm sure you've noticed, Mr Thompson, that some of the girls in your class are well developed for their age and quite sexually precocious."

If by "well developed" she meant big boobs and men's dream young bodies I'd certainly noticed. My face reddened as I wondered guiltily if Miss Pemberton knew about Ruth, nearly nineteen and a penis-straining combination of a so innocent young face with the shortest skirt and best filled blouse in my class. I knew Ruth had a "crush" on me. She was constantly "accidentally" brushing her bulging blouse and sheer black nylon clad legs against me, and giving me glimpses up what little there was of her skirt.

I'm in my thirties, temporarily between girl friends and being teased by girls like Ruth wasn't helping my sexual frustration. After a class with Ruth in it I usually needed to head for the staff toilet and jerk a fresh semen splash against the cubicle wall while Ruth's blouse, legs, and the smouldering "want you" look in her eyes were still fresh in my mind. And Ruth wasn't the only one. Yes I knew all about my girls but of course I didn't say.

Miss Pemberton's mischievous smile told me she'd noticed my face going red. Still perched on the desk, she slowly crossed her legs. I caught a momentary glimpse of bare thigh and with a shock realised she was wearing stockings. She leaned back on her hands so her blouse tightened over her breasts as they swung forward and up. I saw the outline of a dark bra underneath and the peaks of her nipples bulging under her thin white blouse. Miss Pemberton's soft precise voice continued.

"So I always like to give my new male teachers some advice on behaviour in the classroom so that they are well prepared."

Miss Pemberton slid smoothly off the desk. Her skirt caught on the corner of the desk top, causing it to momentarily slide high up her thigh and confirming that she was wearing stockings with lacy tops. She must have noticed my eyes go down to her bare thigh, but her smile didn't change. She stood leaning back against the desk.

"Some naughty girls, suddenly aware of how interested men are in their fresh young breasts try to cause distraction in class by leaving one or two blouse buttons undone so a teacher can see their bra."

I'd certainly noticed that in my class.

"Like this Mr Thompson."

As if she thought I hadn't understood her, Miss Pemberton patiently undid her top two blouse buttons. I could hardly believe what I was seeing. This "little talk" was starting to go in a very interesting direction. She leaned back again against the desk. Her blouse opened wide enough to show the lace of a black bra. She smiled mischievously. That's when I began to think I might soon be leaving a fresh semen splash on the toilet cubicle wall.

"Only very naughty girls want to show men their underwear, don't you think Mr Thompson?" I took the question as rhetorical, as Miss Pemberton continued. "On the subject of girls' underwear, Mr Thompson, I'm sure you know St. Matilda's has strict regulations on girls' underwear. Girls' underwear must be modest, white or pastel, and opaque."

Miss Pemberton didn't need to remind me of that regulation. Among my male colleagues, reports of sightings up our final year girls' short skirts or between blouse buttons of modest, white, opaque knickers and bras and their contents were a constant subject of conversation. Of even more interest were glimpses of panties, thongs and bras of other colours or substantially more skimpy than "modest." Best of all were the occasional reports of girls wearing no knickers or bra at all.

"Let me give you an example of what no respectable girl at St. Matilda's should be wearing."

Miss Pemberton smoothly undid the rest of the buttons of her blouse, pulled her blouse out of the waistband of her skirt and tossed it off behind her.

Her bra, in black satin with a pattern of little grey flowers, was really brief. The lace edged bra cups were barely big enough to sling her hefty boobs and as always with a woman in black underwear there was something erotic about the thin black straps crossing her light skin. I felt as if an electric shock had hit me. Miss Pemberton was just as sexually precocious as the randy girls in my class, and I was to be a performer in her naughty schoolgirl fantasies!

"There, Mr Thompson, as I'm sure you can see a bra like this shows far too much of my breasts" She ran her fingers along the thin black bra straps. As if to emphasise her point she arched her back a little to thrust her breasts forward, and momentarily her bra showed even more of her breasts. "And I know you've noticed my stockings. We certainly don't allow girls to display their legs in stockings at St. Matilda's, Mr Thompson."

Miss Pemberton continued speaking as calmly and precisely as if she was addressing a class, not doing a striptease in front of me. I realised that like an expert stripper she was winding me up - just the way l like a woman to wind me up.

"But in spite of our emphasis on respectability at St. Matilda'," Miss Pemberton continued, "Some very naughty girls have been known to do something I can hardly believe." She paused and looked me straight in the eye. "Girls give their knickers to male teachers. Would you ever believe it Mr Thompson?"

She raised her eyebrows as she spoke as if expecting me to be amazed, all part of her tease. I certainly knew about that too. I'd recently found a pair of obviously freshly worn girls' white, modest, opaque knickers stuffed into my briefcase, with a scribbled note reading "cum over my knickers." I had no idea which girl had left them, except that the dark pubic hair caught in the embroidery narrowed it down to the brunettes, which included sweet little Ruth.

Those knickers might have been modest and opaque on their original owner's pert young female bottom, but stretched taut over as much of my sex kit as I could squeeze into them, leaving half my erect shaft sticking up above the waistband and my bush and balls peeping out at the sides they certainly weren't modest or opaque on me. And by now the white cotton was well stained with semen.

Looking as if she was suppressing a lewd grin Miss Pemberton lifted her grey skirt high above her stocking tops and slowly slipped her panties down her stocking clad legs, giving me a momentary sight of her naked brown furred cunt. She held her panties out to me. I took them from her and ran them through my fingers. They were thin black satin patterned with grey flowers like her bra, and very brief. The black satin was still warm from her body, and smelled of a heady mixture of her perfume and her juices.

"I can't imagine why a man would be interested in girls' knickers Mr Thompson. Can you?"

That question was rhetorical too. The look on Fiona Pemberton's face made it very clear she knew exactly what men did with girls' knickers, what I'd be doing with hers if she let me keep them, and what I wanted to do with her. I'd caught a glimpse of her naked cunt, like when a stripper momentarily pulls her panties aside to drive her lustful male audience wild for more, and now I wanted more! My straining hard penis was pleading with me to get my hands on her, but from the way things were going I guessed she would make things even more interesting before that happened. I held Miss Pemberton's panties in my hand, running them through my fingers and let her continue.

"But its not just our girls who are obsessed with sex at St. Matilda's, Mr Thompson." She paused and looked at me. "I've heard of male teachers here who expose their penises to our innocent young girls."

Miss Pemberton strolled up to me, getting so close again that now her black bra cups brushed my shirt.

"You want to expose your erect penis to me, don't you Mr Thompson? I can see its sticking up hard. You want me don't you?"

This time the question was anything but rhetorical. I felt as if I had a steel bar sticking up between my legs. Her hand went down to the ridge of my trousers bulging over my erection. Her fingertips stroked lightly along my trousers following the length of my hard shaft and found the soft head of my penis. She purred softly as she felt the length and stiffness of my erect penis.

"So big and hard ..." she said softly as if talking to herself. Then she played with the zip of my trousers. "Go on ... show me what you've got! You want to, don't you!" There was excitement in her voice now. It was a command, not a request, and after all she was the Head Mistress, to be obeyed.

To be honest I'd often fantasised about exposing my cock to girls, but I'd never dared. I unzipped and undid the top button of my trousers. They opened to show my light blue cotton briefs bulging out in a huge cone over my erection showing the outline of my shaft and knob through the thin cloth. There was a wet patch at the rounded apex of the cone over my penis head.

As I stood there Miss Pemberton felt my shaft and balls through my briefs, purring softly as she did. My penis strained and twitched at her touch and the wet patch got bigger. I slipped my trousers and briefs together down my thighs below my balls. Released from restraint my penis stuck out straight in front of me bending up from my hairy balls fully erect and quivering stiffly. I decided it was time I played with her. Just for fun I hung her tiny black panties on my hard up penis and thrust my hips toward her.

"This is what you want isn't it, you whore!" I said to her.

Her eyes lit up with excitement as I called her a whore. I'd never spoken to her before other than with the respect she deserved. Without saying anything, but purring with pleasure like a big cat she unbuttoned my shirt and slipped it off my shoulders behind me. She played with my shaft and balls and I fondled her breasts still slung in her tiny bra cups. I was frantic for her.

I pulled her against me, slid my hand up her bare back and unclipped her bra with one hand, a trick I'd learned long ago. She let her bra drop. Her big round melons swung heavily as she moved. My hands were instantly on them, caressing their soft warm roundness and teasing her peaking nipples, getting her gasping with arousal. Her breasts were every bit as good as when I'd played with them, slid my cock between them and splashed my semen over them in my masturbation dreams.

I somehow succeeded in holding back from jerking my load as she fondled my cock and balls. She'd expertly wound me up wild with lust for her. My cock felt ready to explode and its head was glistening wet with pre cum. I was frantic to fuck her, for her to hand job or suck my cock off, or for me just to stroke one off over her.

But in the middle of our playing with each other she abruptly stopped and stepped back from me. She held her hands up to her face and gasped as if she was shocked at what she had done.

"I'm so terribly sorry for the way I've behaved Mr Thompson. I got carried away." But, accompanied by a lewd grin, she followed that with "I've been such a naughty girl. I need to be punished. I need to have my bottom smacked."

She undid the clasp and zip of her skirt, let it drop round her ankles and kicked it aside, leaving her just in her stockings and high heels. She had a neat brown "landing strip" of pubic hair just the colour I'd imagined around her vagina slit. A moment later she bent over the desk, leaning on her elbows, with her big breasts swinging as they hung under her and her naked bottom stuck up toward me. Her smooth well rounded buttocks gleamed under the lights and her lightly furred pussy was peeping out just below her bum cheeks. She looked at me over her shoulder, grinned at me and wiggled her bottom sensuously at me.

"Punish me! I've been so naughty in class." she said softly.

"Then I'd better get my big hard stick ready to teach you a lesson," I replied.

I quickly took off my trousers and briefs so I was naked too, with my stick poking out big and hard in front of me. I moved round in front of her so my erect penis was pointing straight at her face with her black panties still hanging on it and with my big lust-swollen knob just a couple of inches from her lips.

"Here's my big hard stick to punish you with, you naughty girl," I said.

I thrust my hips forward so my penis head touched her lips. A moment later her tongue was licking my penis head all over. Then her lips went down over my penis to slide smoothly up and down over the ridge between my penis head and shaft while she massaged my knob with her tongue. I could have taken any amount of that, but knowing there was a hungry pussy at the other end of her naked body I wasn't going to waste myself just on her lips. I pulled my cock out of her mouth, tossed her panties aside and got next to her backside.

"You dirty little girl!" I said, delivering a light slap to her bottom that set her buttocks quivering and her pendulous breasts swinging and evoked an excited squeal from her other end. "That's for showing me your tits and cunt in class!" I slapped her bottom again a couple of times. "And that's for wearing non school regulation knickers you filthy little tart!"

Then with punishment dealt I fondled her bottom with my hand, caressing her smooth warm buttocks and the tops of her thighs above her stocking tops. I tickled her around that so erotic boundary between stocking tops and bare thigh, and slipped my fingers down inside her stockings. I reached my fingers between the tops of her legs to tickle her furry pussy. With a deep moan she spread her legs wide for my adventurous hand. As I played with her I let the lust swollen soft head of my big hard stick brush against the naked flesh of her buttocks and thighs.

I began to pleasure her, stroking her lightly and rhythmically along her vagina lips, which were sodden with her juice. She trembled, letting out little excited cries and spreading her legs wider. I reached a little further, found the little peak of her clit and circled it and criss crossed it methodically with my finger tip. Suddenly she gasped, started breathing really fast, her body tensed, then her whole body juddered and she let out a high pitched cry as she thrust her hips several times. Then, still breathing hard she relaxed, with my hand between her spread legs cupped over her sopping wet throbbing cunt and with my penis head poking her thigh to tell her it was my turn now.

She looked at me over her shoulder.

"Go on! With your big hard stick!" She fingered herself between her legs as if to make sure I got the message.

I moved behind her and poked the soft valley between her bum cheeks with my cock head. In response she lifted a nylon clad knee up onto the desk, getting her legs wide and lifting her gaping juice glistening vagina to just the right height. I held her by her hip and a sticking clad thigh, leaned forward against her and she gave a deep sigh as I slid my big hard stick in between her pussy lips till my pubic hair was against her bum. Her vagina was warm, smooth, wet, and deliciously tight.

I shagged her methodically and patiently, just the way I'd shagged sweet little Ruth over her school desk so many times in my fantasies. I didn't take long, but long enough for her to whimper and quiver in a second climax. After exquisite minutes of pumping her I pushed her forward across the desk with my orgasm thrust as I spurted a hefty load into her. I stood there holding her for few moments with my belly against her soft buttocks before I stepped back from her with my swinging still half erect penis dripping semen onto the classroom floor. As she stayed bent over the desk a rivulet of my semen trickled down the inside of her thigh and caught in her stocking top.

A few minutes later we were dressed.

"I hope you found our little talk on classroom etiquette helpful," Miss Pemberton said with a satisfied smile on her face as we stepped out into the empty school corridor.

"I certainly did, Miss Pemberton," I replied, returning the smile.

Then, with my eyes on her bottom and her thighs swinging under her tight grey skirt, and with my hand in my pocket fingering her black panties, her high heels went erotically clickety-clack as she disappeared down the corridor.