Never Judge a Book by Its Cover

I took one last look at the bed, then at my ball gown which was still hanging on the picture rail.

"Well, Cinderella, you certainly had a ball today, didn't you?" I said to myself and switched off the light and closed the door behind me.

Mrs Baxter was down in the kitchen. She certainly was a fast worker. I could hear the washing machine hard at work and could see the sheets and pillowcases tumbling around inside it. She was now casually dressed in a pair of white trousers and a blue turtle-neck pullover and her hair was tied back in a simple ponytail similar to mine.

"I'll run you back to school in a minute," she said, taking the towel from me. "Here, you'll need this," she added, handing me a piece of paper.

I looked at it and it was a late order to give to the mistress on duty when I arrived back at school. This was a signed note from a teacher given to pupils who were legitimately going to be outside of the normal two hour allowance on Saturdays and Sundays. Without it, a pupil could be given detention, or lines, or sometimes both. I put the note in my pocket just as the door opened and Mrs Baxter's husband and children arrived home.

I was duly introduced to everybody and it was interesting to see Mrs Baxter transformed from caring teacher to amorous lover and now to doting mother as she listened intently to everything the children had to say about their day at the football match. Football didn't interest me much, but at least they were happy, their team had won and was now top of the table, and they had secured the autographs of some of the players.

Nothing was said about the events of that afternoon as Mrs Baxter drove me back to school. The talk was of the family and what I was going to be doing over the Christmas Holidays. When we arrived back at the school, she pulled into the car park and turned towards me.

"I trust that you won't tell anybody about our little adventure this afternoon, will you Fiona dear?" she said.

"Oh no," I said. "That's between you and me alone. I would like to do it again sometime though."

"We'll see," said Mrs Baxter. "It won't be for a while though, you see my husband has to go away on business soon after Christmas for a few weeks and then you'll have your mock A-Levels coming up, and then the real thing. It would be nice though..."

Her voice trailed off into the distance and she turned away for a moment.

"Well, you'd better go in," she said. "I'll see you on Monday, and don't forget to give your note to the Duty Mistress, and whatever you do, don't kiss me or wave when you get out. Someone might see you do it and ask awkward questions."

I duly promised and got out of the car and closed the door. Mrs Baxter drove away as I walked purposely towards the main door and signed the register and handed over my note to the Duty Mistress.

The pantomime was a big success, although there were a few errors and mistakes made by cast and crew alike, including myself, and I left the school for the Christmas Holidays feeling happy and elated, although secretly I was sad that I wouldn't be seeing Mrs Baxter again for nearly a month.

The holiday period soon came and went and we were well into January when the spring term started. As Mrs Baxter had predicted, we didn't have any time to ourselves as I was revising for, and then taking my mock A-Level exams. Our relationship at this time was purely as a teacher and pupil and before I knew it, it was Easter and time to go on holiday again.

Returning after Easter we only had a final few weeks and then it was time for the all-important exams themselves. I'd passed my mock A-Levels with distinction and hoped for the same or better during the real thing.

It was a few days after my final exam that Mrs Baxter stopped me after one of her lessons. These were now more of a class discussion rather than actual teaching and she spoke to me after the first lesson one Wednesday morning.

"Could I have a word please, Fiona?" she asked, looking over the top of her gold rimmed spectacles once more.

She waited until the last girl had left.

"What lesson do you have next?" she enquired.

"German with Miss Taylor," I replied.

"And then?" She looked at me inquisitively.

"After the morning break, I have a free period before lunch and then French with Mrs Robespierre straight afterwards, and then I'm free again for the last period."

"Come to my study after the morning break," she replied mysteriously. "All will be revealed then."

I left the classroom and made my way along the corridor and down to my next lesson. I couldn't help wondering what it was that Mrs Baxter wanted me for. I wondered if she wanted to take me back to her house for another session as there was nowhere that I could think of on school premises where we could meet. I couldn't get it out of my mind all through my German lesson where Miss Taylor was showing a film of German culture, narrated in German of course. I vaguely remembered bits of it and was thankful that she didn't ask questions afterwards.

I was outside Mrs Baxter's study as soon as the bell went for the end of the morning break and knocked on the door.

"Come in," she called and I opened the door and walked in, closing it behind me.

Mrs Baxter was sitting at her desk, marking some work from one of the lower school classes so I stood patiently waiting until she had finished. It was unusual for pupils to be asked into a teacher's study; usually it was for some misdemeanour to be resolved or for detention but I had seen the inside of it a few times in the weeks leading up to Christmas due to my role in the pantomime.

The study was situated on the first floor of the building and looked out onto the playing fields and the rolling countryside beyond. From where I stood, I could see some of the younger girls playing hockey a few hundred yards away, whilst some others were running round an athletics track. The study contained her large ornate desk and the swivel chair that she was sitting in had an imposing emblem of the school badge carved above the headrest and a dark red leather cover on the back and seat. There was also an imposing red leather two seat sofa in the centre of the room together with a matching armchair while a portrait of a rather stern looking headmistress from the early part of the century presided over the proceedings from above an old fireplace.

Unusually for Mrs Baxter, she wasn't wearing her usual tweed skirt suit, but instead wore a sky blue dress which rested just on her knee together with a matching jacket. The dress had a high neckline and therefore showed no trace of her ample bosoms, whilst her hair was pinned back rather than tied in its usual bun and her gold rimmed glasses were perched on the end of her nose.

"Ah, Fiona, thank you for coming," she said putting down her pen and looking up. "How would you like a bit of 'fun' between now and lunch time, you know, work up an appetite for lunch!"

"That would be nice," I said politely trying not to sound over eager. Inside however I was secretly cheering. "Are we going to your house again?"

"No we can't I'm afraid," said Mrs Baxter. "My parents are staying with us at the moment looking after Kirstie. She had her tonsils out last week and is off school at the moment eating ice cream and being spoiled rotten so it's out of the question. My husband is away on business again otherwise we would have had the house to ourselves."

"So where are we going to then," I said.

Mrs Baxter stood up and walked round the desk to where I was standing. She smiled as she put her arms around my waist and kissed me on the lips.

"Not here!" I said astonished. "We can't surely. Someone will overhear us."

"It will be fine," said Mrs Baxter. "You know there are no classrooms up here, only teachers' studies. Mrs Robespierre and Miss Dunkley are both teaching until lunch time, and Mrs Reid, Mrs Thornton and Miss Willis are all away. We'll be fine, you'll see!"

She leaned forward and kissed me on the lips again before I had a chance to reply. Her tongue was trying to part my lips and within seconds I had succumbed. I gripped her waist and we stood locked together, our bosoms rubbing together under our respective clothing, our tongues probing the inside of each other's mouths. Her hands slowly wandered from my waist until I could feel them pressing on the cheeks of my bottom, pulling my groin towards hers.

We must have stood in that clinch for a good five minutes, until Mrs Baxter finally broke free. Without saying a word, she carefully pulled the maroon bobble which held my ponytail in place and let my hair fall free and then unbuttoned my blazer, slid it from my shoulders and then tossed it casually into the armchair. I felt her hands once more on my bottom as she slid her hands over my skirt towards the zip and button that held it in place. I felt the waistband slacken and she eased it away until it cleared the hem of my blouse then she let go and let it fall lazily in a heap round my ankles.

"I see you remembered our little chat from last time," she said, looking at my white petticoat and the intricate lace hem resting a good four inches above my knee.

I nodded and felt her hands resting on the smooth shiny material, rubbing it up and down over my panties hidden beneath. I was beginning to feel very excited by this point, especially when she started to carefully undo the knot on my tie and then slid it seductively from under the collar of my blouse. It joined my blazer on the chair and she started unfastening the buttons down the front of my blouse. She was certainly teasing me by now, taking her time over each button, running her hand over my body as each button was carefully parted until finally, every button had been accounted for and she slid the blouse from my body and tossed it in the chair with my blazer.

"Heaven, sheer heaven," she mumbled rubbing my breasts through the soft, silky material. "I do so like this!"

My nipples were now hard, and I could feel wetness in my pussy area, but I wasn't ready to give in to her yet. Last time, it was she who had led me on, but this time it was going to be me in charge, and I knew exactly where I was going to have her!

Her jacket wasn't fastened and it was easy for me to remove it and drop it in the chair behind me. I then looked her straight in the eye.

"Take that dress off!" I said quite forcefully and she immediately reached behind and unfasted first the small hook and eye in the nape of the neck.

The dress was sleeveless and she reached behind and pulled the long zip down slowly, almost smirking at me as she did so, then she slid her right arm out of the sleeve, followed immediately by the left, holding the dress close to her upper body as she did so, so that all I could see were the tantalising thin straps of her own white petticoat and bra.

She tantalisingly lowered the dress towards the ground, milking every moment, as inch after inch of petticoat slowly emerged until finally it was low enough for her to step out of. With scant disregard, she casually tossed it towards the chair with the other clothes.

Her own petticoat was slightly shorter than mine with as much intricate lace detail around the bust and hemline. She stood between the window and myself and with the help of the bright sunlight I could make out the tops of her dark stockings, each held up with a couple of white suspenders fastened to their matching lacy belt, her white panties which were much skimpier than the last pair I had seen her in and a low cut bra showing off her gorgeous breasts.

I licked my lips in anticipation and kissed her once more, allowing our tongues to explore deep within each other's mouths once more and gripping the shiny material tightly. Slowly and carefully, I started to walk her backwards round the desk until eventually her big swivel chair was behind her.

"Sit down," I ordered and she duly obliged. "Now, let your hair down."

Mrs Baxter took out the small number of pins securing her hair and it gently fell loose. She had had it cut since our last meeting and was now just over collar length. I swivelled the chair slightly so that she was at a right angle to the desk and then knelt down before her. I pushed the hem of her petticoat up as far as I could, exposing her stocking tops and white panties and ran my hands over her crotch and sneaked a finger inside. There was more than a definite dampness there and she too was primed and ready.

"Take your panties off, Mrs Baxter," I said calmly but firmly and she lifted her bottom off the chair and hooked her thumbs inside the waistband and pushed them forward towards her knees before sitting back on the chair again.

I pulled her panties forward and away over her stockings and shoes and spread her legs apart. I could see her dark thatch and not only that, I could smell her too. I shuffled in on my knees, following the scent like a bloodhound. Her curls had been pressed flat by the tight panties but a quick stroke or two with my fingers soon brought them back to life again before I parted her pouting lips.

I put my tongue inside her, searching her out this way and that. She was extremely wet and she moaned and pulled my face further towards her loins so that I was almost suffocated in the hairy mass. Her fingers were stroking my hair and her hips were pulsating on the leather chair. I ran my hands up and down her nylon clad legs while she held my face tight against her and all the time the intensity was building up inside her. Every now and then, I let my tongue seek out her clit and she would let out an audible gasp until she began to shake and tremble as the passion inside her erupted and she let out an even louder gasp.

She was still holding my face right up to her thatch and suddenly I was covered in her juices. I managed to pull away slightly and get some air then she let go of me completely and sat back, her legs still apart, her pussy still on show and her arms resting on the arms of the chair, trying to get her breath back.

I looked up at her and could feel the results of my endeavours trickling down my chin. I looked around for something suitable to wipe them off with but all I could think off was my handkerchief which was in the pocket of my blazer and which I didn't think would be really suitable. The only other thing I could think of was the hem of my petticoat and I Lifted the front of it and carefully dabbed my chin with a small piece of the material.

This action seemed to reinvigorate Mrs Baxter and she sat up straight. I was still kneeling in front of her and she could see my white briefs and stocking tops clearly. She indicated for me to remove my petticoat which I duly did by lifting it over my head, then she leaned forward and pulled me close to her fuzz once more and unfastened the clasp of my bra and I felt the straps slip from my shoulders, freeing my breasts.

"Come and sit here," she said softly, patting her left knee.

I stood up and did as she asked, perching rather uncomfortably where she indicated. She placed her left arm around my waist to steady me and began gently fondling my nipples alternately with their fingers of her right. They were already bullet hard and my pussy was sopping wet and a very small damp spot had appeared on the front of my briefs. She started kissing my neck, then my right nipple whilst fondling the left one, then my torso. Her hand suddenly went straight from my breasts and inside the front waistband of my briefs without warning and I jumped at the sudden invasion of my privacy.

"Take them off!" she said quietly, and I stood and quickly slid them from my body.

She grabbed my waist and pulled me towards her so that my slit was now inches from her face. Lovingly she began to slide her tongue inside me, tasting my juices as I had tasted hers a short time before. My hands were on her shoulders as she brushed against my clit and I almost screamed out and clung on tightly to her, and then she did it again and then once more. I could contain myself no longer and let out an enormous yell as once more my body spewed forth like a river over her face. Thankfully this time there were no dogs in the vicinity to start barking and my juices were now running down my legs, making the tops of my stockings damp. Mrs Baxter stood up and hugged me, kissing me on the lips.

"Thank you, Mrs Baxter," I whispered, kissing her neck and feeling the soft white material of her petticoat rubbing against my body.

"My pleasure, Fiona" said Mrs Baxter.

We stood in a romantic clinch for a few minutes, just generally hugging and kissing each other's lips and saying very little. Suddenly the lunch bell sounded, making us both jump and we broke apart.

My few pussy hairs were now dry and stiff and my groin area felt moist and sticky. I longed for a shower but the dormitory areas were out of bounds at that time of day so I knew I would have to wait until later. I just hoped the smell of female secretions wouldn't be spotted by anyone.

I looked at Mrs Baxter. Her petticoat had a large damp stain in the crotch area, mainly I suspect from my more recent eruptions than hers previously. We started dressing again, although it took me longer as all she had to put back on were her panties, her dress and her jacket. I watched her step into those panties and she made no attempt to hide her private areas from me so I had one last fleeting glimpse of her pussy as she pulled the front of her petticoat up and pulled them into place before letting it drop again.

Soon we were both dressed once more and I tied my hair back with the bobble. I couldn't smell anything and the moistness in my groin felt less severe. I looked up at the picture of the old mistress hanging on the wall and couldn't help but think what she would have made of the proceedings which had just occurred and whether she had seen it all before!

"I would never have thought that you would be into female company," I said, giving Mrs Baxter one last kiss before I left. "You know, we always thought that it was Mrs Sharman and Miss Race who were lesbians."

Mrs Baxter burst out laughing.

"Whatever made you think that?" she asked, looking surprised.

"Because we often see them walking out together arm in arm," I said.

"They are twins!" she said, still chuckling. "Non-identical twins! I know Miss Race has her hair styled short and almost manly but she's actually the biggest flirt I know at social occasions. Don't tell anyone that though, will you?"

"No," I said, blushing and feeling deeply embarrassed that I had misjudged them so badly.

"Mrs Sharman's husband was killed in a road accident and as she never had any children, her sister is the only family that she has," Mrs Baxter continued. "You should never judge a book by its cover, Fiona, after all, look at me!"

I couldn't help but look at her and wished that I could undress her and eat her pussy out once more and that she could do the same to me, however Mrs Baxter was right. Our activities had given me an appetite and I kissed her once more in the privacy of her study and fondled her breasts through her dress, rubbing the material over the shiny petticoat and bra that I knew was concealed beneath. She in turn crouched on her haunches, lifted my skirt and petticoat and kissed the crotch of my briefs, giving me one final exotic view of her underwear up her dress.

We walked down to the dining room together although we ate our lunches separately, me with my friends and her with a group of teachers. Every now and again I would look in her direction and if our eyes met she would smile at me and lick her lips. The rest of the day passed in a blur, and after that the days seemed to pass by so quickly until the last day of term.

I had a few more English lessons with her but we never met socially again and we also had an end of school party which she attended and then my time at the school was over. I successfully got the required grades required to enter university and although I shared a room with another girl and became great friends with her, I never had any lesbian attraction to her or to any other females I encountered, in fact I was more into boys and soon had a steady boyfriend.