The Thank You Rooms - School

I had sat in the reception area not five minutes when I began to hear the moaning.

The room itself was not ten yards long, with a lush burgundy carpet and mahogany panelling. On the far wall sat a grate, cut square into the mahogany, painted to match the dark wood colour. It was there the moan drifted from. I stood up, looking about back into the porchway, where two giant tropical plants stood sprawling out over the white tiled floor in ancient, chipped porcelain flower pots. It definitely wasn't coming from outside. Moving slowly towards the grate the moan got louder. I looked to its left at the covered passageway, its curtain thick velvet. I briefly considered pulling the bell by the curtain that I had signalled my arrival with, but they had told me when I'd phoned that one ring would be enough.

Tentatively placing two hands either side of the grate I pressed my ear against the cold metal. The moan echoed around the duct and into my ear. It was urgent, broken up by panting, a cry of sheer delight. I shut my eyes as the sound took on a deeper tone, straining in places but settling into a rhythm. I swallowed as the illicit thrill of being the voyeur crept over me.

She would cum soon.

My mouth broke into a smile as my mind played over the scene. Where was she? In a hotel room, next door, spread-eagled on a bed with a man, her lover, fucking her roughly- or no - man who wasn't supposed to be her lover... lying back, legs wide, the pillows cushioning her bouncing head, raven black hair spilling over it, her arms thrown backwards to the corners of the spread - or better tied, restrained to the bed posts as her assailant stands over her on all fours like a wolf, ferociously pounding his thickset prick into her eager, open-

"Mr O'Neill!"

The voice startles me. Shaking me away, the moan has vanishes.

"Sorry, Sir, I did ask three times."

"I, um... sorry."

"No need to apologise, Sir. I'm Polly." She smiles.

Polly stands in front of the velvet curtain, dressed in a black skirt ending a little below the knee and a pink blouse that's cut off at the shoulders and done up to barely cover her breasts. The thick rimmed black glasses hide her lovely cheeks a little, though her face was framed by her long brown hair. The pen being tapped against her cheek complimented the clerical look. But it's her lips... her mouth is wide, but her lips are thick and full, no hint of cosmetic treatment, a smooth pink gloss applied to them... All of a sudden I see Polly under my desk in my office, putting those beautiful lips to work.

The receptionist continued her introduction. "I am glad Sir dressed as asked. A suit is always required by a gentleman for... entry."

"And leaving?" I smiled.

Polly merely smiled back, there was a faint crackle as she shifted the weight on one leg and her nylons, dark brown and sheer rubbed together. Her toes were visible through the material, framed by cute black mules with a kitten heel. The overall effect was one of complete arousal, at least on my part.

"What you did, Mr O'Neill was above and beyond, Natalie was delighted to get her handbag back, one wonders if there are any white knights left on the streets of London. We were all delighted that you acted so heroically."

"It was really nothing..." even now I'm still a little embarrassed at my own actions. Pulling down muggers in the high street was not my forte, even for a man in his mid-twenties... however that was how I'd met Natalie. The lovely red head Natalie. The lovely red head Natalie who had given me a card with a phone number whereupon I'd been given directions to this place. A front door made of solid mahogany to the side of row of bright, white Georgian houses in Paddington. I looked down and realised that my shirt was the same colour as the carpet. "So what happens now?"

Polly smiled with those gorgeous lips of hers again. "Mr O'Neill... your reward will take you on a journey that I think you'll enjoy. That is, as long as you keep an open mind."

"OK, I'll give it a go... It's Paul, by the way."

"Paul." Polly nodded.

"So it's like a spa, massage and sauna is it?"

"Maybe... if you like... We'll see what happens."

"And when it's over do I come and find you? Sign out or anything?"

"You'll find me inside, Paul..."

Before I had time to open my mouth, Polly had pulled the curtain to one side.

"You wait here. When the curtain opens again merely walk straight in."

SCHOOL

I'd briefly thought about doing a runner... as lovely as Polly was, she didn't give away too much information. What lay beyond the curtain? I pushed my wallet deeper into the suit trouser pocker.

As the curtain had pulled back I'd expected a room like a VIP nightclub area. Maybe some red padded seats in leather with a small bar, people drinking champagne they couldn't afford, that sort of thing, but this was odd. For a start the initial impression I received was one of overwhelming artifical light. Having left the low afternoon rays of winter behind me in reception, this was like approaching a set of floodlights head on. My eyes slowly adjusted as I made out standard strip-lighting, with white plastic ceiling tiles.

I collided with the first table, a chair screeching abruptly on the floor as I displaced it. It was then I took in all the furniture. This was a school classroom. Not a Victorian style boarding schoolroom with wooden desks and a huge blackboard, but as I remembered school. Plastic chairs dotted around various tables, some mismatched in height. At the far end a door marked 'Playground'. Behind me hung a whiteboard next to a map of the world, in front of that stood a broad desk with black metal legs and a dented wooden surface. Walking over to the desk I sat down in the chair looking to see if there was any clue as to what I should be doing. To my right was a drawer and inside that a brown folder.

Taking out the folder I leaned back in the chair and briefly imagined being at the head of my class, trying to control them, watching them struggle with questions, argue about homework. The thought of another life made me smile and I opened up the folder. Inside was a single sheet which read 'Personal Record: Melanie Bush.' Instead of being a list of grades, it read like the vital statistics for a Playmate of the Month - Hair: Blonde. Eyes: Blue. Height: 5'6". Measurements: 35-23-35. Age: 21. Disposition: Sweet.

I read the last word out loud as the door opened at the far end of the classroom and in she walked.

Melanie's profile had not done her justice, satchel slung over her shoulder, a finger innocently tucking her blonde locks behind her ear she walked towards my desk. Her white blouse was untucked from the flirty, pleated blue skirt that barely covered her black suspenders, clipped as they were to black stockings, her legs crossing as she walked, stiletto heels clicking on the floor. Despite the uniform, she was no schoolgirl, the fullness of her breasts, barely held in a simple, black bra gave that away. The sway in her hips, the gleam in her eye, over 18 and x-rated.

I had not said one word by the time she dropped her satchel on my desk and her aspect changed in an instant from temptress to doe-eyed angel. Hands behind her back, she bit her bottom lip and then said "Hello, Sir. Sorry I'm late."

I smiled, so this was the role I had to play, teacher. The thought amused and excited me. As I was in charge I got to ask the questions.

"And why are you here, Melanie?"

She beamed, glad I had seen her record. "Miss Amanda sent me."

"Miss Amanda?"

"My...Personal Tutor, Sir."

I felt my cock begin to stir in my boxers once more at her words. "Your 'Personal' Tutor, Melanie?"

"Yes, Sir. She guides me, looks after me, monitors my progress."

"And presumably you've been up to no good and you've been sent to me?"

Melanie looked shocked. "No, Sir! I'm a good girl. I was sent her for Personal Development."

My eyes widened at the prospect of what Personal Development might entail. I decided it would be necessary to assert my authority first though.

"Melanie, do good girls you know go around with their shirt hanging out?"

Her eyes shot down to her shirt and then, as if irritated with her own mistake, stamped her foot, fists clenched by her sides. "Sorry, Sir!"

"That's OK, Melanie. Come here and let me tuck it in for you." I turned in my chair as Melanie made her way around my desk. She stood right in front of me, legs apart, a slight pout to her lips. My hands came up to her waist and steadying her with my left, proceeded to tuck the shirt in with my right. I could feel her firm, warm body beneath the shirt, leaning into me. I tightened my hold a little, she didn't flinch. As I smoothed the shirt down by her waist she stopped pouting and smiled.

"Thank you, Sir."

I kept my hands on her waist, my thumbs stroking the thin white material. "Tell me, Melanie, do you think stockings and high heels are appropriate for a girl at school?"

She giggled, the movement in her body opened my mind up to further possibilities. "Sir, it's part of the uniform here."

"I see, an all-girls school?"

"Don't be silly, Sir, of course it is!"

I raised my eyebrows wondering if after Melanie's tuition I would have a bigger class to teach. "And where are you up to on your Personal Development course, Melanie?"

"Lesson three, Sir."

"And what did you learn in lesson one?"

Melanie flashed me the grin of someone who certainly knew the answer, but as content as I was to ask questions, even I was a little surprised when Melanie broke free from my hold and knelt down on the floor. Her hands went straight to my belt and then paused, she looked up at me to ask permission.

I nodded. And with a few swift movements my belt was unbuckled, trousers open and without any help my cock sprang free.

"Oh, Sir! I've never had to use one like this before!" I tilted my head to one side and gave Melanie a quzzical look. "I mean, Sir, it's so big." My pupil's fingers curled around the base of my prick and she began to squeeze. I responded by tilting my hips forward a little, bringing myself nearer to her face. Melanie bit her lip once more and then opened her mouth into an O. I groaned with pleasure as her mouth slid over my cock into the comfortable warmth of her mouth. Melanie's tongue danced over the head, flicking the tip which caused me to moan, her fingers squeezed harder at the base and then I felt another hand pulling down on my balls. Eyes closed, I leaned back in the chair and let the sweet schoolgirl consume me. Her mouth found a rhythm that matched my murmurs and her squeaks of pleasure in between long sucks. Occasionally she would remove my cock from her mouth and flick the end with her tongue, only to be taken in deeper next time.

I told her how good she was for sucking, how her grades would certainly improve if she kept up. I considered putting my hands in her hair, forcing her mouth deeper on to my prick as if somehow increasing the taboo of trading this incredible feeling for a gold star. Instead, Melanie's noises of enjoyment as she sucked changed my mind, she found her pleasure in expressing herself, something a teacher must encourage.

The young protege was about to engulf my prick once more when I told her to stop. Melanie smiled and panted, looking up at me. "You've done very, very well."

"Thank you, Sir. Would you like to see my work for lesson two?"

I nodded and Melanie stood up. I went to get up to join her and then felt a stocking knee pressed against my cock. I relaxed back into the chair once more. She parted her legs stradling the chair either side. Her hand went beneath her skirt, pausing for a second and then down to my hand. I felt the slickness on her fingers and so moved my own under the skirt. Her pussy was slippery and my two fingers slid quite easily inside as Melanie mewed with happiness. I worked my fingers in out of the cunt for a little while, my thumb gently nudging the top of her pussy, careful not to put too much pressure on her clit.

Brushing me away, I let my fingers slide from her pussy and once more put my hands on her waist, sliding them down on to her hips. Pushing my cock, now red and angry, forward, I pulled her onto me.

I longed for Melanie to feel all of her teacher inside her, to give the benefit of my experience. The slut agreed and her thighs parted a little wider as I began to push further and she moved her body back and forth. Satisfied she was on nice and tightly my hands went up to her blouse as I began to undo her uniform. I longed to rip it open, but I considered what a good girl she'd been. As the shirt opened, I was presented with her full, gorgeous breasts, spilling from the little black bra. Melanie shrugged the shirt off on to the floor, pushing her chest out as her arms were behind her back. My mouth descended onto the plentiful tits, licking, kissing, mauling them. Melanie cried out as my hands pulled the bra down and let her tits bounce free in front of me. As my palm squeezed one tit, my lips sucked on the nipple of another. The schoolgirl matched the action, moving her sensual body from her toes in the pointed high heels upwards. Her thighs flexed, her body bounced. Melanie's cries got more and more shrill as my prick worked her slutty pussy. Letting both my hands grip her tits I pulled her towards me, kissing her deeply, sucking on her tongue as her moans increased in pace and urgency. I found my own body responding, the stiffening of my back started in my balls and the thoughts of filling my pupil's cunt with my cum fuelled my ardor. Melanie's lips left my mine and she threw her head bach, her hands gripping my shoulders, fucking like she'd be born to it. Then her face came forward, her hand wrapped itself around my tie. She jerked me forward.

"You can't cum yet."

I felt my brow furrow and grunting, I pushed into her impatiently.

"Lesson three, Sir."

I relented a little and once more she beamed at me. Her hands back on my shoulders, Melanie pushed herself off. Her fingers pulled the matted hair behind her ears and she smoothed down her skirt.

Rubbing my mouth with the back of my hand I looked into her blue eyes. "Right, well, um, lesson three then..."

Melanie picked her satchel up off the desk and retrieved a white plastic lunchbox from inside. Opening that up she produced a bottle. "We were told to bring this in, Sir..."

I took the bottle from her and realised it was baby oil. I stood up, my cock still hard and dripping against my black suit trousers. I told Melanie to bend over the desk. The girl pushed herself up against the desk and put her arms straight forward. Her fingers gripped the edge of the desk's far side. Her arse pushed itself out at me, her puckered hole all too apparent as the skirt reared up.

"Tell me about lesson three, Sir."

I poured the baby oil into my hand. "Well it is similar to lesson two, Melanie, we start with the fingers..."

My fingers, slick with oil pushed into Melanie's little arsehole and the minx cried out with pleasure. "Oh, Sir... your fingers are... they're up my..."

"Up your arse, Melanie. Say it."

"Your fingers are up my arse, Sir..."

"You like it, Melanie?"

"Yes, Sir, very much."

I let my fingers slide out and she moaned, a little disappointed. Standing right behind her I took the time to let my hands run over the two fleshy globes, down to the stockingtops. Pawing at her arse I rubbed more oil onto my prick.

"You have such a nice bum, Melanie. I bet you tease all the boys with it..." My hands squeezed and kneaded her arsecheeks. "I bet you and all your little friends love to tease the boys, get their cocks nice and hard..." She moaned again as I moved the tip of my prick towards her waiting hole. "You all laugh about how much they cum thinking about you, don't you? Yet all of you little sluts long for a cock... up your arse!" I pushed once, felt a little resistance and then pushed again. Satisfyingly, my stiff, strong prick disappeared into her arse and Melanie screamed.

As I began to thrust into her, Melanie began to rock with me, her moans gradually finding voice. "Oh, Sir... Sir... oh yes, Sir..."

"This is called being buggered, Melanie... fucked in the arse, all sluts do it."

"I'm a good... oh... i'm a good girl, Sir!"

"You're a slut, Melanie!"

I let my hand swat her arsecheek and she cried out.

"Sorry... Sorry, Sir... Ohhh..."

Now moving my hand round to her front as I thrust against her backside, my fingers found her cunt and I began to rub. "You're a little slut girl who needs to be fucked. Repeat it!"

"I'm a little slut girl who needs to be fucked!"

"You need to be fucked to keep you out of trouble."

"I'll be good, Sir, I promise... oh fuck, yes!" The expletive coming from her sweet and innocent mouth, made me fuck her harder. My entire body wanted to ram against this slut and put her in her place.My fingers were massaging her cunt to match her cries. Melanie pushed her bum out further as her arms shook and her head pressed down on the desk. "Fuck me, Sir. Harder, Sir. Fuck my little arsehole, Sir. Bugger your slut, Sir. Fuck your head girl's bum, Sir, make me take your cum, oh, Sir, Sir, Sir..."

The legs of the desk began to bang on the floor with the force of our fucking. "Do you promise to be good, Melanie?" My voice strained against the assault.

"Yes, Sir... I'm cumming, fuck, I'm cumming, Sir! Yes, Yes, FUCK, OH..."

Melanie's body jerked and slammed against the desk as I felt my body charged with being on the brink of ecstasy. With one final deep thrust I came in the schoolgirl's arse, my spunk shooting up her bumhole in long spurts. I grunted with intense pleasure as I came, revelling in the feeling of possessing this blonde slut's body. Melanie gasped for air, her body still shaking from both our orgasms, her fingers slid over the desk as she rode the sensation. I kept my cock inside for a little while before gently sliding it out.

* * *

Half an hour later and Melanie was happily sticking gold stars to my forehead while I took the time to tickle her and make her giggle. We sat next to my desk as my cock recovered and my post-coital drowsiness wore off. Her finger danced over the head of my prick.

"Is, Sir ready for his next room?"

"There's more to this?"

"Of course, Sir. Just go out of the door I came in..."

With that, Melanie picked up her satchel, put a gold star onto her tit and, after briefly stopping to peck me on the cheek, walked out of the door I had entered the classroom by.

Tucking my cock away and trying to bring some sense of decorum back to my suit I turned to the door marked 'Playground'.

On opening it I found a dark corridor with neon lighting, certainly like no school I had ever been to. I noticed a door at the end of the corridor, while the other direction disappeared into infinity. There was a sign on this door, but I found I couldn't read it, it looked blurry. Confused, I walked towards it and began to make out the letters.

In a very blurred typeface was written the word 'OPTICIAN'. Intrigued, I shrugged and opened the door.

THE END...