How did Charlotte Lose Her Virginity? Pt. 05

How did Charlotte Lose Her Virginity?

Part 5

Graham Randall sat marking exercise books in a room right at the top of the old school buildings. It was quiet there and it was a room he liked to use; he found he could concentrate there. It had a large old fashioned desk with plenty of room to spread books and papers out and a rather good view out over the playing fields giving him, if he wished, the opportunity to watch the lacrosse, netball, hockey or whatever the girls might be playing. The sun slanted in illuminating the other side of the room and the sloping ceiling. It was very much a room in the eaves.

A knock at the door and there was Helen Evans in her sports clothes.

"Hallo Helen, why are you not out on the field?"

"Hurt my leg, sir. Sister Mary sent me to bathe it and go and lie down."

"And?"

The girl bit her lip and looked left and right. "I thought I might, before Charlotte and I come and see you... I thought I might... I've been thinking about what you said and... please, sir, can I suck you like Charlotte."

"Not as private as my flat is it, Helen, what if someone was to come?" What indeed, though the idea was very pleasing. Very pleasing indeed.

"Take your knickers off, Helen."

There was puzzlement upon her face, but she complied. He reached out his hand and took the pair and stuffed them in his jacket pocket. Lovely to see Helen standing there, her breasts pushing against her white sports shirt with the school crest on the pocket and know under her rather short, white, pleated skirt she now had nothing on -- her young sex unprotected. It was very much how he liked to imagine the older girls running around at netball and hockey, knickerless and showing occasional glimpses of bare buttock or personal hair. A pleasing idea though he had never seen a girl forget her knickers -- yet.

"I've been marking your homework. Come here and we'll take a look." He reached across the desk at a pile of marked exercise books and found the one with 'Helen Evans' in her neat ink handwriting on the label. As she stood beside him it would have looked so like a normal teacher/pupil interaction if anyone had come in and seen them from the door but, as he talked about her work, his hand touched her knee and began to make its way up her soft inner thigh. This was not at all a normal interaction! Graham had already touched Helen but this time the way was unobstructed by knickers, they were in his pocket, and the way above his hand was completely open; the girl was standing with her legs nicely apart.

He felt her thighs quiver. So soft, so smooth. Surely not a trickle of wetness already? There had hardly been the time. Yet, when he touched, Helen was undoubtedly wet. A young girl ready aroused and 'readied.' Graham could have stood, eased Helen forward to bend over his desk and lifted her skirt, unzipped his fly and taken her there and then. Doubtful, despite being a virgin there would be much resistance, probably he would slip in like a knife into butter. An animal like copulation, the female taken from the rear like the stallion and mare or bull and heifer in the field. And something like a foal or calf might well be the result!

Graham played. With his left hand he turned the pages and indicated his comments, both praising and making suggestions whilst with his right hand he manipulated her sodden, hot sex, fingers sliding over and in. Three fingers this time, stretching and exploring. There was certainly room enough for his cock -- clad in rubber of course. He might even get Charlotte to push it in.

"Now, Helen, that was all in all, a good piece of work. Now, what was it you said you wanted to do?"

"Suck your cock, sir."

Had they been in the flat, Graham would probably have had Helen on her knees before him as he stood. Maybe both naked upon the bed. But this was a semi-public room. A risk one of the sisters might come in, or one of the girls. Not quite the sight he would want them to see -- Helen on her knees with his cock in her mouth, perhaps with semen dripping down her chin.

"You'd better be out of sight under the desk, Helen." Of course, he had imagined it before. What man with a kneehole desk had not imagined a girl crouched underneath and sucking his cock? They almost seemed made for the purpose.

Lovely to see Helen getting down on her knees and reversing in as he moved his chair aside. Should he just let her unzip him and extract or should he get more comfortable by dropping his trousers and allowing her easy access. A little risk should someone come in but not much. Nothing could be seen from the door and the chair had sides. Probably even if someone -- inevitably female as he was the only man in the whole place -- came to his side she was unlikely to notice he had no trousers on. It would only be if he stood up when all would -- very much - be revealed. And he was not going to stand up.

Graham Randall took his trousers and pants off dropped them into one of the desk drawers and stood for a second or two facing the door. Almost a dare. He was standing with his erect cock totally exposed between the hanging leaves of his shirt. Then he settled himself back in his chair, knowing he was just so presenting himself to the girl under the desk, his legs wide apart. Had he been a female teacher then he -- or rather she -- would have been just as well placed for Helen's mouth and lips.

"There you are, Helen, all for you. No hurry. Nobody is watching you; nobody will see what you do; you can play and suck to your heart's content; my penis and balls are yours to enjoy; only you must suck and I must come and I don't want any semen left behind. You're not coming out until then. You're imprisoned, not so much behind bars as behind cock. No hurry at all, the longer the better." Graham reached for another exercise book to mark, so conscious of his erection free between his thighs and the young girl all cooped up between him and the modesty panel at the end of the desk, a hidden girl crouching and no doubt staring at his penis in the half-light, wondering about sucking it. There was no hurry. He had a lot of exercise books to mark. His arms rested on the desk as he read, below his knees were wide apart and his cock upstanding.

He felt a finger touch and then stroke his balls. It made his penis twitch. Below, under the desk, did Helen like that particular movement? Did it excite her to see the flick of his rounded penis head, not quite the flick of the stallion's mane, but... He felt fingers encircling him at the base of his cock. Helen was touching him. Fingers trailing up his shaft. He could imagine her staring eyes; she had been fascinated by his erection before but now she had it to herself; no one watching her as she examined; nothing hurrying her, it was just her in her little cubby hole -- and an erect cock. Perhaps such an opportunity should be given to all young girls. A safe and non-threatening -- a risk free environment -- for cock play. A mandatory educational experience. No need for the girl to know whose penis it was. Unlikely men would not volunteer. Probably all the male teachers and many parents as well.

Below the desktop, fingers eased back the foreskin, exposing the helmet. Graham stopped reading for a moment as he felt a finger touch his fraenum, tapping the so sensitive underside of his knob. Gentle stroking of his skin, a slow movement covering his glans and then back again. Was the girl staring down the 'barrel' of his gun. She had seen him come, knew what might -- would -- come out. Such an opportunity for the girl. Had there been an accurate illustration in a library book of the erect male organ; perhaps an engraving in a old and dusty book the sisters were not aware of; an engraving copied from an original highly detailed anatomical study in pen and ink of an erect phallus and gonads, would not Helen have stared and stared at it. This was somewhat similar only it was the real thing.

Graham turned a page. He had marking to do however pleasant the gentle stroking was; however pleasant it was to imagine Helen contemplating his organs. Was she perhaps summoning courage to suck or just taking her time as he had suggested?

Cool lips. Cool lips around his knob. The girl had done it. Another step on her sexual awakening. The girl learning from her teacher. Lips holding him, holding his 'plum' in her mouth. No movement for a time. For Graham there did not need to be. It was just superb to be held like that.

A slow, almost imperceptible -- or would have been had a penis not been so sensitive, so chock full of nerve endings -- sliding down the penis, the young girl taking more and more into her mouth. Perhaps another day he might have Charlotte and her competing to see just how much they could take. What was that new film he had read about -- 'Deep Throat?' He would like to see that, but fat chance. Perhaps in Amsterdam or somewhere like that.

Sliding lips and a suction. Helen had taken his instruction to 'suck' literally.

'16/20' Graham wrote in the exercise book as he marked another girl's work. Not a bad mark. Below him, under the desk he rather thought Helen's efforts deserved a higher mark! He reached for another book. The dear girl was taking it slowly. Had she and Charlotte been talking? Of course they had! Delightful stimulation and then a rest. Was she just looking at his cock, now all wet from her mouth or, perhaps, she was also touching herself. Graham could not see anything, just the slowly reducing pile of to be marked exercise books and the rising pile of marked ones.

Such a shame he could only come the once. Were he Geraldine or Gretchen Randall at a boys' school, might he not be sitting here as a succession of sixth-form boys went under her desk, into the cubby hole already awash with the scent of woman. Thighs apart, knickers off, dress pulled high and wet quim ready for yet another tonguing. Ballantyne Minor at 3pm, Calthorpe at 3.15pm, Dent Major at 3.30pm, Levine at 3.45pm, tea at 4.00pm.

"No hurry, Helen, play as long as you like. Not getting too squashed or getting cramp are you?"

Graham smiled as he felt Helen's lips leave his knob to speak. "I'm fine, sir, I'm liking this."

The now warm and certainly wet lips slipped over his smooth glans again. What a feeling! He looked up at the door. What if Sister Mary came in? He could imagine Helen freezing, not daring to move, his cock in her mouth as he spoke to the sister. It could as easily be a girl or girls. 'Found you, sir, could we ask you a question?" Helen might relax and start her sucking again as he talked to the girls -- or the sister. How awful if she overdid it and he found himself ejaculating whilst talking, having to try and keep his composure and not gasp, sigh, or shudder as the electric feeling coursed through him and his semen was expelled. Would Helen choke and give the game away? Would she pull back in shock or to prevent herself -- her mouth -- being overwhelmed by his flow, leaving his ejaculating penis to spurt freely over her face and down onto her blouse?

But the door remained reassuringly shut. Up in the roof of the school building all was quiet but for sounds outside; not even nice little sucking noises from under the desk. Helen was being as quiet as a mouse - nibbling.

What was it like for Helen under the desk? He hoped she was enjoying what she was doing as much as he was.

"Helen," he said, reaching down and holding her head as he pulled her off his cock, "I might very well ejaculate soon. It doesn't have to be in your mouth, though that would be lovely."

"Has Charlotte?"

"Yes, Helen." He was sure Charlotte would have told her. He was sure they talked about everything.

He eased back his chair. The secret fellation had been wonderful but he did so want to see. A little more risky with the door, but he could easily pull his chair closer to the desk if it opened. Eased back, there was Helen's head, her dark hair parted in the middle and showing her forehead, her lips mere inches from his swollen penis. And he watched as, with eyes looking up at him, her tongue reached out and touched it before her lips opened and the girl took his knob between them. It was almost enough to set him off. And then she began to rock her head backwards and forwards, her lips sliding along his penile skin -- and he could see it. Back and forth, back and forth. Graham felt it happening and Helen speeded her rocking; perhaps she had seen the look on his face, a grimace, or a slight closing of eyes; and then it really happened, Graham Randall was ejaculating into Miss Helen Evan's mouth. What would her parents have thought? What would Sister Mary have thought -- if she could even conceive of such a thing? It was wonderful, the feeling, the sliding lips and Helen's upturned face and open eyes. Wonderful -- wonderful! And the dear girl swallowed.

"Might we, sir, come over this evening." Charlotte was standing there with her friend in the main corridor of the school, the two of them with piles of books clutched to their breasts. Breasts he could clutch that very evening if he said yes... "Tomorrow, I think, Charlotte, would be best. Can't let you come too often. Both of you?"

Helen nodded, "yes please, sir."

He smiled, glanced up and down the corridor and saw Sister Mary approaching, "No knickers mind you," and in a louder voice, "that will be fine, and I hope you will both work hard at it."

Graham walked a few steps and then spoke to the sister as the girls walked off. He was calm and collected, not a hint that he had just made a most improper assignation appeared upon his face.

Lovely to open the door to his flat at the knock an evening later and see Charlotte and Helen standing there. All the better to know under their tartan skirts they had nothing on at all. He had watched them earlier in the day walking along together giggling. He had wondered what they had been talking about, though he had his suspicions. Girls seemed to giggle at sex. What lovely girls, so good to see their knees peeking out from under their blue tartan skirts as they walked, the pleats swinging. Perhaps they had already dispensed with knickers, perhaps the added freedom or naughty feeling was what they were giggling about. Lovely to think of their two hairy 'pussies' there for the touching, all warm and soft. Standing at the classroom window and watching he had developed an erection in his trousers. He would be spilling his semen in and around the girls that very evening. He had to wait a little before turning around as his next class filed into the room. Charlotte and Helen had gone out of sight and he thought of more mundane things -- teaching and arithmetic, geography and the early Tudors. He subsided and turned.

"Now, class..."

"Good evening Mr Randall." It would have been just perfect had they curtsied.

He made cocoa. No need to hurry. Only the slight chance the girls might be missed in the dormitory, but probably none of the girls would notice two missing. And if one woke to see an empty bed she might think, if she thought very much at all, that the girl had gone to answer a call of nature. But why would the girl wake or notice at all? Did the sisters perhaps sometimes make their 'rounds' and check on the girls, walking silently between the rows of beds. He doubted that too.

They were talking about school and schoolwork, yet that would shortly change. Graham was wondering how to start the change. Should he just ask them to show they did not have knickers on? A lifting of pleated, tartan skirts? Should he simply then fuck them? Wonderful to think they would comply; or should he not hurry to that, but take his pleasure slowly. He looked again at the two pairs of legs. Sitting together, the skirts had ridden a little up the girls exposing their knees. Knees held properly together as they had been taught. In his mind the thought of licking those knees and encouraging thighs to open, and then to draw his tongue slowly up soft girl inner thighs until...

He was hard in his trousers and, again, lovely to think he could just get his cock out and neither girl would run away; indeed if he stood both would suck it as they sat there -- perhaps together, one either side, perhaps with tongues touching.

"I suppose we'd better continue with your sex education. More practical than theory tonight."

The two girls looked at one another. A look of excitement, a conspiratorial smile. So erotic.

"Come here." The girls stood straightway, used to obeying teachers instantly. Two girls either side of his chair. When else would he have such an opportunity for real, to do something that might come into a teacher's mind but just so not something to do. He patted their thighs apart -- both pairs -- and slid his hands up into their skirts. Knees first, then up lower thighs.

"Are you wet, Charlotte?"

"Yes, sir."

"And you, Helen, are you ready for sexual intercourse?"

"Tonight?" The look on her face a delight, a mixture of worry and excitement.

"Perhaps not tonight, Helen, another night when you have learnt a bit more about your body."

"And yours, sir."

"Yes, Helen, and particularly about my cock. It is important you young girls know how to pleasure a cock." His hands were slowly edging upwards, his eyes more on their faces, watching their reaction.

The touch of such soft flesh, so gorgeously wet on his fingertips; the natural and copious lubrication of young girls. Graham was not naïve, had no illusions about just how sexual girls were. He had been well warned at teacher training not to imagine they were any less 'randy' than boys. He had been warned to be careful. Graham was not being careful now!

His fingertips stroked, just easing along the outside of the girls' lips, not yet venturing into what would be two pools of wetness. Their wide eyes; teeth biting lip in Helen's case but tongue running over her lip in Charlotte's - schoolgirls in 'heat,' their legs now well apart. Back and forth, fingers splayed and running along lips, before slowly bringing his fingers closer and closer together so they could begin their journey down the insides of the girls' sex, moving to the inside of those lips, his fingers running past but not touching their openings and their clitorises -- their sexual female bits.

And when his fingers finally came together, he was rubbing right along the path from clitoral hood to vagina. So hot, so wet. Round and round the girls' openings until he slipped a finger in; one then two and Graham had his fingers in two girls at once. Two girls shaking and looking anything but composed on either side of his chair.

"Undo your blouses. No, each other's."

Wonderful to watch. Nimble feminine fingers on each other's white blouses. It did nothing to lessen his erection.

"Would you like to unbutton me now?"

Graham had worn a pair of trousers with buttons at the fly rather than a metal zip. Graham found a great deal of pleasure in watching women undress -- or undressing them himself. He wondered if the two schoolgirls felt the same about men. Would they enjoy undressing boys from a different school or spying on them undressing perhaps ready for swimming. He knew in some schools -- boys' schools -- the swimming was naked. Would his two girls enjoy watching boys in secret? A whole class of young men removing their clothes and then trooping with swinging penises, perhaps first through showers, to the swimming pool. Perhaps twenty young men. Not mere boys but young men with fully grown penises and hair in profusion. Strong firm male bodies and tight bottoms. He wondered how much the two girls would like that. Graham had no illusion about how much he would enjoy seeing Charlotte and Helen's class around and in a swimming pool naked. The thought of being naked too. Graham Randall and twenty naked schoolgirls. Him in charge of the swimming lesson. The school requiring nudity. So exciting to imagine him helplessly erecting! Him telling them to 'just ignore it.' Not very likely!