Schoolgirls of St. Cats 04

Helene dreaded Wednesday evenings at St Cats. Straight after dinner, when they should still be digesting and chilling out, the girls were herded down to the gym and told to pick their activity.

Helene sought out Miranda in the crowd. Miranda always picked running. It wasn't just her slight short-sightedness and vane refusal to wear her glasses, Miranda was actually good at running - especially cross-country, with its sticky mud and awkward branches. Miranda was graceful, Helene thought, able to pick her way along the tracks with elegance and the speed of a gazelle - leaving Helene and all the other girls trailing behind, slipping and sliding and tripping over anything that could be seen as an obstacle.

Helene thought: it hasn't rained for weeks, it won't be wet at least, and... she thought about her options. The swimming pool was notoriously cold, and the hockey pitch was just the thing if you liked teams sports - which Helene decidedly did not. So it was to be the cross-country.

The girls got changed into their running gear. Mostly they ran in tracksuits, but Miranda always wore a maroon school skirt. She runs for the school, Helene thought, she's earned it. She'll probably run for the county this year.

The teacher on duty for the cross-county was Forsdyke. No athlete, the girls had a theory that Forsdyke organised the cross-country because it provided ample opportunities for a cigarette and a drink. Helene smiled to herself. Out of all the girls in the group getting ready to run, only she and Miranda knew Forsdyke's dirty secret, how she liked to dress up in a school uniform and be fucked by Kelly, the grizzled head of humanities.

Forsdyke was speaking. "Usual route girls, down the boundary until you get to Pilgrim's gate. Into the woods to the lane. Along the lane, up the field and sprint your way home. Last girl runs again. We're taking times, so make it fast if you want to run for your house."

She blew her whistle, and they were off. Helene jogged slowly behind the main pack. Already she felt uncomfortable, the rhythm so hard to achieve. She could just see Miranda at the front, sprinting away with apparently effortless ease.

Miranda didn't know why people complained about running. To her, it seemed as natural as breathing and sex: just something her body did, something it enjoyed.

The run down the boundary was soft on her feet, the grass cut to a nice length. She vaulted Pilgrim's gate and ran over the short stretch of farmland before the wood, hurdling the small stream with a smooth action.

Down among the trees, the air was cool and moist, and Miranda put on a burst of speed. There was no-one behind her now.

When she emerged from the wood, the first thing she saw was a red BMW parked in a field gate, with a dark figure standing behind it. He seemed familiar: Miranda squinted at him from a distance. The man stepped onto the road, as if to confront her.

It was Mr Byrne, the cruel and darkly coloured geography teacher. He said: "Thomas, go and sit in the car."

Miranda said: "but sir, I'm on the run, and I don't want to be last..."

Byrne followed her back to the car.

He said: "you don't have to be, but that depends on you."

"What do you want, sir?"

Byrne kept his eye on the lane.

"I want you to make me cum. And when you have, then you can go."

Miranda was annoyed, but she tried not to show it. With Byrne, you never knew what he might decide to do.

She was sitting in the driver's seat, leaving him standing outside. Miranda could tell he was already erect beneath his trousers.

"How do you want it, sir?"

Byrne said, distantly. "I don't care, just get on with it, whatever you want."

Miranda leant forward, and started undoing his flies.

Byrne was quite a stylish dresser: he was wearing dark, button-fly trousers and a thick leather belt. Miranda undid the belt, the brass buckle falling heavily from his crotch. She struggled with the button flies, but eventually his trousers dropped away, revealing a thick cock, lifting up his white cotton boxers.

Miranda pushed the boxers down, she gripped his cock with one hand, felt around his balls with the other. She played with him for a few moments, pushing the foreskin back, watching the teacher's cock glisten.

Now she could hear the first runners panting along the lane. Byrne shouted occasional words of encouragement. Under his breath he said: "I told you to make me cum, I'm not your boyfriend enjoying a grope." He paused. "Or your girlfriend for that matter."

Obediently, Miranda opened her mouth and took his cock in her mouth. She felt it jerk against the roof of her mouth, could taste the salt on his skin. Gently she pulled his balls: scratching them lightly with her fingernails. Byrne grunted, and Miranda could feel his cock getting wetter, getting a foretaste of his cum. She thought: I've got to get a wiggle on, I've got to make him cum or I'll be horribly late!"

She started thrusting her head against him, forcing his cock fuck her mouth, but to her horror she felt him losing stiffness.

Byrne said: "are you wet?"

Miranda said: "do you want to fuck me?"

Byrne said: "well this is useless, I might as well wank myself off into your mouth, so yes, I'm going to fuck you."

He pushed her back into the car, lifted her skirt and pulled her knickers down her legs and threw them away, in one easy action.

"Turn around."

Miranda wriggled around in the car, lifted herself onto a knee, trying to keep her other leg comfortable under the steering wheel. She could feel the wind on her bare arse.

Byrne shouted: "move your butt, Ash!"

Miranda thought: "Damn, if Helene has gone past I'm in trouble!"

She wiggled her arse invitingly.

Byrne said: "good God, they are rubbish".

Miranda felt his cock exploring the gap between her legs, rubbing her almost hairless mound. She reached between and held it, guiding Byrne forward to her cunt.

Byrne pushed himself into her without mercy, suddenly filling her up: she gasped with surprise and with the suddenness of the sensation.

"You're not very wet," he complained, "try playing with yourself, see if that works."

Miranda said: "you want me to masturbate while you fuck me, sir?"

Byrne grunted an acknowledgement.

Miranda slid a hand between her legs. She could feel Byrne's cock sliding awkwardly out of her cunt, she felt around her splayed pussy lips, the hard masculine flesh disappearing inside her. She thought about Doctor Clarke and Helene, thought about their tongues and fingers, thought about all the orgasms they had shared and would share. Now she found her clit was hardening, and she rubbed it with her fingers, feeling the warmth lubricate her cunt.

Byrne was sliding smoother inside her now. When she rubbed herself, she could touch his balls with every stroke, and she knew that the teacher - who was penetrating her in full view of the lane - liked this very much.

Byrne was fucking her deep and fast now, and to her surprise, Miranda could feel herself approaching an orgasm. She thought: "nearly there, just a minute," and then Byrne pulled out of her.

"Wet enough now, girl," he commented, and Miranda felt his cock sliding over her arse. She thought: "he'll never get it in up there," and then realised that Byrne was pushing against her arsehole.

As soon as she understood what he wanted, she clenched up, as if to resist his cock - but then took time to relax herself.

Byrne pushed his cock against her ring of muscle. As she relaxed, it loosened and Byrne took advantage, Miranda felt his cock enter her arse, penetrating her, sliding on her pussy juice.

The teacher groaned, and then spoke: "you can make yourself cum, you lazy cow."

Miranda felt her clit again. Still hard, still sensitive to her touch, she found she could now finger herself and play with her clitoris at the same time - whilst feeling the most intense sensation of fullness she could imagine.

Byrne's hands were on her arse cheeks now, he was fucking her for his pleasure, taking voyeuristic delight in the schoolgirl's masturbation. Miranda started to moan: long, low, animals noises. She could barely tell where Byrne's cock and her asshole finished, so intense was the pleasure she was taking.

Her leg, braced on the steering wheel, started to shake, and at the same time, she felt Byrne fuck her ass even deeper.

He groaned: "I'm cumming now," thrusting inside her.

Miranda said, "Sir, sir, are you going to full my arse with your spunk?"

Byrne almost laughed with glee.

"You're such a slut, Thomas."

Miranda's masturbating fingers were a blur. Byrne's cock fell from her, she could feel cum dripping from her hole, down the inside of her legs. Now she she had brought herself to a climax, she was pressing her face into the car seat, rocking with the rhythm of her fingers.

She fell forward over the hand-brake, panting.

Byrne stood back.

"Not bad, but you're going to have to sprint to catch up."

Miranda turned to look at him

"Well don't look at me, get running!"

Miranda got out of the car with difficulty, standing shakily to her feet, looking around for her knickers.

Byrne shouted: "get running!"

The schoolgirl sprinted along the lane. There was almost no hope, she thought, not unless one of the girls had stopped for a smoke - there was always that hope. Ahead of her, she thought she could see a couple of people in the far distance. A car was crunching along slowly, and Miranda hopped onto the grass verge to let it pass.

Byrne's red BMW pulled up alongside her, the window slid down, and Byrne threw a pair of green knickers out onto the road. Miranda heard him laugh as he drove off at speed.

She scooped up her knickers and burst into a faster sprint. Her skirt was flying around her, and anyone would have seen her cunt if they'd bothered to look. By the time she got to the last stretch, she could see two figures sauntering along the lane at the end. Desperately she ran as fast as she could in an effort to catch them up, but as she got close, they heard her approaching, and started running. The three girls ran towards the gym block - they could see Forsdyke, Helene and a handful of girls at the finishing line.

Miranda was struggling: she was trying to hold her skirt down as she ran, anxious not to give Forsdyke another reason to complain, but the two other girls - large girls, unfit girls, girls who had stopped for a smoke - oh the shame of it - they were beating her to the finishing line.

Forsdyke ticked their names off and gestured at the shower block. She said: "What are you looking at me for, Thomas? Go around again."

Miranda said: "it wasn't my fault, my elastic broke".

Helene said: "it's true miss, we told her to take them off and run, but she kept trying to hold them up."

Forsdyke said: "should have picked a better pair. Ash, give her your knickers and go and have a shower. Thomas, get running."

Wordlessly, Helene lifted her skirt, pushed down her knickers and handed them to Miranda. She pulled them up, it felt odd to be wearing her girlfriend's undies.

Forsdyke said: "Get running, Thomas," and whacked her on the arse with her clipboard.

Miranda ran off, tears in her eyes from the stinging board with its unforgiving bulldog clip. She thought about cheating, about making a short cut, but she knew it was too easy for Forsdyke to check up on her. She'd have to do the run again.

After the sprint to catch up, after the emotion of being fucked in the arse by Byrne, Miranda found the second lap particularly tiring. By the time she got back to the gym, all the changing rooms were locked.

She thought: "I'll have to go back to Alice House and have a cold shower".

Trudging around the corner, she saw Helene coming towards her.

Helene said: "I was so worried, she is such a bitch."

Miranda said: "You don't know the half of it. It wasn't my knickers that made me late, it was Byrne."

Helene took her hand.

"Bishop said you could use her shower while she does her evening session. I've got a key."

Miranda felt relief. Staff had permanent hot water.

"Thank you sweetheart."

The girls walked across the quad to the wing with the Nurse's rooms. Helene led them down the corridor, took out a key and surreptitiously let them into Nurse Bishop's private bedroom next to her consultation room.

"Have a shower," Helene said, "I'll go and get you a change of clothes."

Miranda stepped out of her sweaty running clothes, went into the bathroom and stepped into a gloriously hot shower.

Nurse Bishop had a nice selection of shampoos and gels. Miranda picked one, and started lathering her body.

She thought: "Helene's a darling for doing this, and the Bish is an absolute star. She really gets it."

Miranda shampooed her short, dark hair. She was glad she didn't have long hair that had to be twisted into pigtails like Helene's. Such a fag.

She turned the shower off and stepped out. She was just reaching for a towel when the door opened, and Nurse Bishop came in.

When she saw the naked schoolgirl, she blushed and turned half away.

"I'm sorry, Miranda," she said.

Miranda picked up the towel.

"It's OK," she said, "you lose your self-awareness in this place, it's completely natural to be naked in front of other girls."

Bishop looked at her: "I suppose it is, I'd completely forgotten. You know I used to go to a school just like this one?"

Miranda was rubbing her hair dry.

Nurse Bishop smiled to herself.

"I dare say it was much like this, I only left a few years ago, really. Three years at uni, a couple in a hospital and then here."

She tucked her red hair back underneath her traditional nurses' hat.

"Honestly, Forsdyke does like her uniforms old-fashioned. I have to strap everything on the morning."

Miranda laughed. Nurse Bishop had a cheeky smile, and that lovely creamy complexion that you sometimes get with that red, deep auburn hair. She thought: sometimes to listen to her, you'd think she was our age, but she must be pushing thirty.

Nurse Bishop checked her hair in the mirror.

"I'm just waiting for Doctor Clarke to arrive for the next appointment, but then I'll come and make a cup of chocolate for us all, and you can tell us all about it."

Miranda wrapped herself up in an old, but comfortable white towelling dressing gown. Nurse Bishop's sitting room was cosy, but rather confusing. There was a faded sofa in a striped material that looked as if it had come from a hotel, a couple of dining chairs from the refectory, and a battered leather armchair that looked like it was family.

Miranda picked the chair, and stretched out her long, slim legs.

The curtains were drawn against the encroaching night, and another pair separated off this room from what Miranda knew would be the kitchenette that led to the nurse's office. She smiled to herself, remembering how she'd crouched behind that door, watching Dr Clarke slowly seduce her school-friend, finally penetrating Helene on the examination couch. The thought made her feel sexy.

Her arsehole could still feel its recent penetration, and despite her self-stimulated orgasm, she knew that she would have to cum again, if only to relive her recent experience.

Miranda undid the dressing gown, and exposed her pussy to the air. She stroked her mound slowly, played with the small patch of pubic hair that she let grow just above her clitoris. She thought: she'd have to ask Lisa where she got that little dildo thing from, it'd be nice to have something to play with. Her eyes lit up: she'd have to see if she could persuade Doctor Clarke to fuck her in the arse, she knew he'd never done anal.

Miranda's arsehole twitched involuntarily.

She stroked her clit thoughtfully. She was feeling dreadfully tired. Before she had time to think about it, she had dozed off.

Something strange woke her. She was dreaming that she was lying on a desk at the front of the school hall. Completely naked, with a line of male teachers standing in front of her. Michaels, Kelly, Byrne, Travers - the lot of them. They were playing with themselves - so close she could reach out and touch them. Her arms were stretched out across the desk, but despite this, someone was stimulating her. She could feel fingers, a tongue, she was getting wet, but she didn't want to look, just in case it was Forsdyke eating her teenage cunt, or Miss Taylor, or Smith... the thought crossed her mind that it was Nurse Bishop. She smiled to herself, that one she approved of, she'd had a crush on the nurse for years.

As she began to awaken, Miranda felt herself beginning to orgasm. Her hips were moving without permission, seeking more sensation, more tongue, more mouth, more lips, more cock.

She was still sitting in the leather armchair, her legs wide. In the doorway, just behind the curtains, she could see Nurse Bishop watching her, a strange expression on her mouth - half desire, half fear.

The mouth was doing its work. Still half caught in her dream, Miranda didn't want to look down, but she couldn't help lowering her hands down. She felt a head, a girl's head, with long pigtails. Miranda held them both in her hands and gently pulled the girl's head up. Helene looked up, an irrepressible grin on her face. Miranda looked down at her. The schoolgirl's face was covered with her pussy juice, she was glistening with it - practically from ear-to-ear, from her nose to her chin,.

Miranda said: "just kiss me, you tart".

Helene said: "I can't do that, that'd be so naughty."

Miranda frowned.

"Why?"

Helene pouted, "well", she said, "you would taste your own juice, and I'm sure that's a sin."

Miranda laughed.

"Just kiss me."

She held Helene's face between her hands, and gently rubbed her lips against her mouth, teasing it open with her tongue. She could feel that Helene was trying not to laugh, there was a tightness in her muscles, she was slightly shaking.

Miranda gave up, she said: "oh just get on with it then, go on, make me cum if you must".

Helene said: "Nurse said it'd be good for you."

Miranda said drily, "and she's just checking your technique, is she?"

"I've forgotten how to do it."

Bishop spoke for the first time.

"It's been such a long time. I didn't think you'd mind, not from what Chris Clarke and Helene tell me?"

Miranda said: "well, you can't see anything from there. If you need a reminder, why don't you come here and watch more closely."

Helene frowned. "But what about Mi...?"

Miranda cut her off. "We'll sort that out. Come here, Nurse, and get a good view."

Nurse Bishop settled herself down on the sofa next to the chair. She slipped a little forward, pushing her dress up her thighs.

Helene said: "would you like a go?"

Bishop said: "oh no, no thank you, it's ... just old time's sake".

Helene settled back down between Miranda's legs. She stroked the tuft of pubic hair, and ran her fingers down either side of Miranda's otherwise hairless pussy. She opened her cunt lips, parting them with her fingers. She could smell the sex from Miranda's cunt.

She said to Bishop: "Miranda likes to be fingered, she especially like it when someone slides a finger inside her arse when she's being eaten. Guaranteed orgasm, isn't it?"

Miranda said: "100%."

Bishop said: "I think I'd like that too."

"Usually," said Helene, "I like to lick her very slowly, from the bottom of her cunt to the top of her clit. Each time, I can taste her a little more, and each time, my tongue slides into her a little further. I don't dive in and start on her clit, she needs to be brought up to it. You'll know when, she gets very noisy. She'll tell you what she wants."

Helene pushed Miranda's thighs further apart, encouraging her to lift them up.

"So," she explained, "I start here, and end here."