Miranda's Desire

The silence was broken by a resigned sigh from the teacher as she leaned back in her chair and contemplated the student before her and the situation in which she now found herself. "If this letter and that photo go to the head my career is over, even if it is untrue, you know that don't you?" Pausing briefly before continuing. "If I do as you ask, then my career is over. Either way, you've destroyed my career and my life. Why are you doing this Miranda?" The teacher's face showing howbewildered she felt, how tired, as the threats of blackmail lay heavily on her shoulders.

The frank, no-nonsense tone to Ms Gardiner's voice opened a chasm in Miranda's insides as she realised the enormity of what she had done, the full consequences of her actions only then dawning on her.Ms Gardiner sighed deeply, loudly, looking dejected, "The letter, the pic, I guess now there is nothing I can do. What is it that you want from me Miranda?" Silence. "Miranda, speak to me... why, what is it you want?"

"Because, you're pretty and... and... gay." she replied quietly, looking at the floor, at Ms Gardiner's calves, biting her lip nervously, all her fight, all her bravado dried up in the light of the horrific mess she has unleashed.

"You want to ruin me because I'm pretty? Because I'm gay?"

"No! "You can help me, teach me... I don't want to harm you.... oh God....." her eyes lifted from the floor as she registered the word 'gay'. "So you are? You are gay?" she asked cautiously, the hope oh so evident in her voice as she looked at her teacher with renewed hope of salvaging something from this wreck.

Ms Gardiner just sat there, pondering, mulling over the options, shaking her head, almost in tears. "Yes yes Miranda, for fuck's sake, yes I am gay, for all the difference it makes," she conceded, anger and frustration in her voice.

The smile slowly returned to Miranda's face as she raised her head, able again to look Ms Gardiner in the eyes, but seeing the tear run down her teacher's cheek reinforced the hurt she was causing. Miranda stood, walked over towards Ms Gardiner, hugged her gently, rested her head on her shoulder. "Miranda how can you do this when you are in the process of destroying my career?"

"Oh god... I don't know. I don't know anything at the moment Miss..."

Slowly, she leaned away from Miranda; extricating herself from the clasp of her student she made a decision. "Miranda... I think we should finish this conversation somewhere else. Do you know where I live?"

"Yes Miss and its Easter in a week's time..." Miranda looked at Ms Gardiner nervously, apprehension clearly visible on her face.

"First Saturday of the holidays, arrive early morning, knock, and the door will be open, don't be seen."

"9 am? The buses won't allow me to get there much earlier than that."

Ms Gardiner just nodded looking down feeling down, despondent; feeling as though this new show of authority, of strength, was merely a way of maintaining some dignity in the face of defeat. At least this delay would give her time to think.

"See you then... I guess," as Miranda slowly turned, walked away, out through the door into the corridor and beyond into the evening spring sun.

Ms Gardiner sat there alone in her office, nodding, resigned to her fate, needing the time between now and then to work out what to do, how to save her career. But, deep down at the back of her mind, there was a twinge in her mind as she looked at Miranda's young form as she walked out. "No, No, No," the only sound breaking the doom-filled silence as her mood deepened and the closer on the door finally allowed it to settle into its frame with a cushioned thud.

Later that day Julie stood in the shower, letting the slightly too hot water pound off her body. She rather too forcibly rubbed shampoo into her hair and scalp and thrust her head under the water to rinse it out. Her mind just couldn't leave the scene from earlier in the day alone. She kept thinking back to it, like a child whose tongue keeps seeking out the loose tooth. Over and over she played through the whole scene, how could she have been so stupid? What was that ridiculous girl playing at? Should she go straight to the Head and tell him herself? Why hadn't she gone home early like usual?

She scrubbed at her body with the shower puff, trying to exorcise every last remnant of the day from her skin, she felt so dirty, but no amount of scrubbing could solve this huge problem or alleviate the weight hanging over her head. She replayed the kiss in her mind, how dare that stupid little bitch touch her like that, cup her breast, make her mouth tingle, make her nipple respond...

Julie soaped her breasts, feeling the same response as she had in her office, the nipples growing hard as the hot soapy water splashed off them, her own hands cupping them, holding them, kneading them. How dare that cow Miranda make those accusations about her staring at the girls, watching their soft young bodies sway and move? Seeing them try new and interesting ways of defying the uniform rules, shirts too tight, budding breasts pressing against tight white cotton, skirts rolled up till the hem barely brushed the bottom of their bum cheeks? How dare she suggest that she gave the girls more attention, that she let her boobs rest against their soft female shoulders rather than those of the spotty boys?

Julie's hands were soaping around her tummy, her trimmed mound, thethoughts of the girls at school crowding into her mind, that kiss from Miranda, one hand now on her boob, teasing the nipple, the other hand stroking the increasingly puffy, swollen lips of her fanny, Miranda's scent haunting her, clinging to her nostrils like an enchantress's spell, the image of Miranda's face closing in towards hers, the touch of her lips, the tingle that went through her body.

Julie's hands moved almost independently of thought, her fingers toying with her sensitive, delicate fanny lips. She parted them, feeling the heat within her, feeling the urge to plunge her fingers deep inside to stem that growing ache, the ache that grew regardless of professionalism or rational thought every time her thoughts strayed to Miranda. Damn that girl, her soft lips, warm hands, her sinuous body, the twinkle in her eye. That devious bitch, that photograph, how could she have let a scheming kid trick her, trap her like that. Damn!

But still her fingers kneaded her breasts, parted her lips, stroked around her stiffening, throbbing clitoris. Her breath came more rapidly, her fingers and hands more forceful in their manipulation of her body. The water streaming down her, all traces of soap gone. She felt her knees weakening, that familiar feeling inside but she slowed to a stop, wanting more than a quick flick in the shower, her arousal fired yet hampered by thoughts of that bitch girl.

The feel of the soft cream towel on her skin only heightened its sensitivity as she toweled off the excess water, glancing at herself in the full length mirror, the lights in her bedroom low, accentuating her curves with shadow. She massaged oil into her still damp skin, loving the feel of her ample curves, the erotic tingle of her fingertips smoothing the slick oil all over her; yet still her mind toyed with the anger she felt like a deep knot inside her.

Julie lay back on the bed, eyes closed, the feel of the sheets beneath her, the feel of the air on her naked oily skin all adding to the heightened sense of touch that itched just beneath the surface. Pushing her head back into the pillow she let her fingertips trace patterns over her body, light spider web traces that tickled without making her squirm, awakening every nerve.

She felt her nipples become firm, the areolae tightening, wrinkling, the liquid warmth spreading deep in her belly. Finger and thumb pinched each nipple in turn, hoping the pain would clear her mind of the anger simmering deep in her chest, sending shocks through her body, causing her to arch her back, spread her legs, bring her knees up and dig her heels into the mattress. Her other hand moved down to her moist slit, parting the swollen lips, finally dipping into the hot wet opening that had been aching for attention. Two fingers slipped easily into her tight fanny, she gasped as she felt the intrusion and the feel of her velvety tunnel enveloping her fingers. Her heels dug into the bed as she pressed the pad of her hand against her clitoris, sandwiching it against her pubic bone as her fingers dipped deeper and deeper, curling up towards that magical spot just inside.

Thoughts of Miranda spun around her head, playing that kiss over and over as her fingers dug deeper, the palm of her hand crushing her clitoris exquisitely, sensations radiating through her body, remembering the touch of her lips, the feel of her hand on her breast, arousal mixing with anger mixing with shame, fingers moving faster, harder, her breath ragged, but then she slowed, hand reaching to her bedside drawer, her thoughts wanting to show that little bitch, make her pay.

Her hand patted around in the drawer till it alighted on the familiar thickness of the double ended dildo that lived there. Quickly she pulled it free from the drawer, manoeuvred it between her spread and bent legs and pressed the tip to her incredibly damp opening. Slowly, savouring every inch, she fed it in to her hungry, aching fanny till almost half of it had been swallowed and she could push no more inside.

For a moment she lay there, heels dug into the bed, tensing her muscles around the length of toy filling her aching sex, her mind focused on the swell of Miranda's boobs beneath her white cotton school blouse, the curve of her thighs in her regulation school tights, the swell of her bum as her school skirt brushed back and forth over it as she walked. As her thoughts swept over Miranda, her mind's eye ogling every inch of her budding young body, she moved the toy back and forth, her breathing becoming more rapid, more ragged, imagining the look of shock she could cause on the face of that spoiled brat if she could see this now. Or better still the look on her face if Julie had her in thisposition, forcing the fat plastic cock into her prim, prissy little fanny.

She moved the toy deeper, faster, harder, the unused end slapping against the bed as she thrust it in and out, the only sounds in the room her ragged breathing and stifled moans of pleasure and the slushy noise of the toy back and forth in her sopping wet fanny. She imagined Miranda's hand invading her blouse, the kiss lasting longer, slipping a hand inside Miranda's blouse, her fingertips exploring the soft young breasts, all with the intention of fucking her hard like this, ramming the toy deep in her fanny. All the while she thrust the dildo back and forth, her mind whirling, the arousal outweighing the guilt and the anger as her orgasm neared, her liquid insides building, feeling the wave growing, moving the toy quicker, becoming more violent, imagining her hand moving up Miranda's thigh, roughly pulling her knickers aside, feeling that fresh young fanny, wet for her, for Julie, for her teacher, all the while the speed increasing, pounding the dildo into her pussy, wanting it to be that bitch's pussy, that beautiful, frustrating bitch.

Then with a great intake of breath she came, her heels pressing down, her hips rising up, her body shuddering as she cried out, "Damn you Miranda!" as her orgasm rocked her whole body, her fanny pulsating and spasming, clutching at the thick dildo, her juices pouring from her down the crack of her bum. Her cries merged into incoherent gasps and moans and expletives as her whole body spasmed with the full force of her orgasm, her anger and her lust pitching it higher than any for a long time. Thrusting the dildo in and out, feeding the almost sated fire inside her, she peaked and began to slow, her chest red and heaving, her ears ringing, her limbs tingling. "Oh fuck!" she gasped as she let her still shuddering body relax into the bed, Miranda's face uppermost in her mind, thoughts of lust and revenge fighting and competing for dominance.

The final week of school before the holidays, they both avoided each other. Miranda missed Ms Gardiner's lessons, the few times she saw Ms Gardiner in the school corridor, she turned and took an alternative route. Every day, when she saw the headmaster, or a deputy, she cringed, expecting to be asked, summoned to an office, to explain her actions. It never happened.

Ms Gardiner also had an unsettled week. She spent the week in a complete haze, her mind working overtime, as she thought back to her own adolescence, the pain, and misery, weighing it against the career she had lovingly built over many long years.

Finally, the Saturday arrived. Miranda woke up, not having slept well, unsure as to what the day ahead would bring. She looked at the clothes she had readied the night before, her sheer cream blouse, the darker cream skirt, buttoned down the front, and the red cardigan. Finally on top was her new bra, and thong, having been to Marks and Spencer's the day before, deciding what to buy. It was nothing special as lingerie goes, but for a girl in her late teens, it was still something special, red, and lacy.

She showered, dried herself down and applied some of her mother's perfume, before slowly dressing. She took her time adjusting the bra, pulling and pushing the straps and the cups to make sure it fitted comfortably, the top buttons on her blouse unfastened, and the bottom buttons on the skirt also unfastened. Finally, she picked up a smart, casual jacket, stepped out of the house and closed the front door behind her. Taking a deep breath she headed for the bus stop.

Slowly, hesitantly, she walked towards Ms Gardiner's house but approaching the gate she slowed, feeling her heart pound in the confines of her chest. Finally she reached the front door; plucking up the courage she rang the doorbell. Remembering Ms Gardiner's request, Miranda slowly pushed the door open and stepped into the home of her teacher. She replaced the latch, and the chain guard, before stepping further into the hallway, standing at the bottom of the stairs.

"Ms Gardiner? Are you here?"

Slowly, Ms Gardiner stirred, aroused from her fitful sleep by noise; the sound of the front door, the sound of a voice, her voice. "Oh God!" she mumbled to her self, "It's Miranda, it's Saturday, oh God," as she pushed her hair from her eyes, grabbed a robe.

"Miss?" softly Miranda called out.

The realisation hit Ms Gardiner, the robe pulled tight around her, the waist band tying it together. Tentatively she made her way down the stairs Miranda standing there in the hall way, a look of uncertainty on her face.

"Sorry Miss. You asked me to be here early..." she trailed off, her eyes cast downwards, beginning to think this was not how she had envisaged it.

Ms Gardiner just nodded, still trying to fully wake up, unsure of the implications if she was found now; in a state of undress and a pupil in her home. She pushed the hair off her face, "Sorry." She led the way into the kitchen, "Can I get you a drink?" As she walked into the kitchen the sunlight streamed through her robe silhouetting her body through the filmy fabric. Again, "Can I get you a drink?"

"Tea please..." looking at the fresh coffee machine, "or coffee if that's what you're drinking Miss." Miranda nervously followed Ms Gardiner into the kitchen and sat on a stool, too confused to really appreciate the view in front of her, the sun shining through Ms Gardiner's robe, silhouetting her curvaceous body. Julie nodded as she filled the kettle and switched it on, all the while in front of the window her naked body silhouetted through the filmy fabric of her robe. "No I start the day with tea Miranda, I think I need it."

A moment of silence; punctured only by the sound of the boiling kettle. Julie placed the tea bags into the pot, poured the water, replaced the lid, refilled the kettle flicked the switch for it to boil again.

"Milk?"

"Yes please..." she replied almost a whisper. "So glad it's the holidays. Away from the school." talking to no one in particular...

Ms Gardiner went to the fridge, removed the milk, pourd a little in two mugs and returned it to the fridge, as she walked towards Miranda, handing over her cup, Miranda unable to avoid staring at Julie's nipples so erect from having opened the fridge, thrusting hard against the filmy fabric of the robe. "I wish I could be as upbeat about these particular holidays"

"Why Miss," asking innocently...

"Sugar?"

"Thanks," as she took the tea, sipped it. "No, no sugar, thank you."

"Well, I think you know why Miranda, the somewhat difficult position you have put me in, wouldn't you say?"

"I guess so," looking at the floor... "Well, I am sorry. But well I am really confused...." both sipped their tea as Miranda started to talk, words tumbling from her mouth, an outpouring of all her semi-formed feelings. Soon they were both talking, neither really listening to the other as they both continued.

Ms Gardiner nodded, "I know, I've been thinking about being your age."

"I fucked two boys... one my age, one in his early 20's. Both seemed to ignore my feelings... sure it was fun but, well, it was all over too quick every time. They seemed too keen on their own satisfaction," Miranda continued her rant, "and then, the New Year's Eve party... I kissed quite a few people that night... it was a fun game of truth or dare; I was in the cupboard a few times..."

Ms Gardiner just nodded as she stopped talking and listened to Miranda; nodding, sipping.

"Kissing boys and two girls... I think..."

"Uh huh."

"But well as I said... the one kiss took ages, it seemed, felt normal... she was soft, sensual... did things with her tongue that no one else has."

Julie nodded knowingly, seeing how the memory was affecting her pupil, she just listened.

"As in sucking on my tongue, my lips and she offered me her tongue... it was so comfortable, and as we kissed, I felt my own arousal, kissing the others afterwards was a let down. So I headed home early and masturbated..." Ms Gardiner just sat there, listening, sipping her tea. "Thinking of what happened, of being with a girl, since then. I've started to masturbate so much more..."

Ms Gardiner raised an eyebrow, a little surprised at how candid Miranda was being; trying not to show her surprise, trying not to show how such frankness was affecting her.

"And yes, I think of boys, men but my thoughts just become focused on girls, older woman, my age and older.... I go to clubs, bars and I spend as much time thinking, looking at girls, wondering what it's like... What's it called? Sapphic love? as I do looking at the males, perhaps more so. There are some interesting web sites, nifty stories, lit erotica, all with stories about same sex." Miranda paused, took a sip of her tea, "and..." as she continued, "well I mentioned to my parents the topic of same sex... over tea one day... there had been a gay kiss in East Enders or some other soap, and I asked their opinions. It was not supportive I guess, they think it's so wrong..."

Ms Gardiner listened intently, nodded, remembering the days when she was Miranda's age, unsure, unable to share her feelings.

"As does Jane.... my best friend, you know her... we spend so much time together... until recently but we have drifted slightly. Now she has her first serious boyfriend, but I am sure we will pass this phase."

Julie just nodded, listens intently to this rant, this confession of her feelings.

"Sometimes though when we do see each other... and hug... I want to well kiss her... is that wrong?"

Ms Gardiner shook her head in agreement, not wanting to talk in case she interrupted, stopped Miranda from expressing how she was feeling; perhaps she may just want someone to talk to, maybe all of this sorry plot was, is a cry for help.