Football Practice Ch. 02

Miss Beckett, or Alice to her friends, waited patiently as Dave finished up in her small, windowless office. Eventually he came out, Still with an obvious bulge in the front of his trousers. They exchanged goodbyes, and she watched him leave. She stared at his backside until it was out of sight, beyond the glass of the building's main door. She walked into her office, and stopped. She opened the door to her tiny shower room, and stared in. She pictured the naked, wet, straining bicep, the strong forearm and the fist wrapped around his cock. She pictured the scene, and imagined herself joining him. Naked in the shower. She snapped herself out of it.

'Stop it,' She said angrily to herself. 'He's a student of yours. You can't think like you're a horny schoolgirl here. Be professional.'

She was still wet from the rain outside. She hadn't realised it in all the goings-on that evening. She looked at her watch. It was nearly half past five. Damn. Late home again. But she couldn't go home like this, she'd catch her death. She locked the office door, and turned around. She pulled her damp tracksuit top over her head, and threw it aside. It nearly landed in the empty waste paper basket by the door. Her black sports bra heaved as she drew a deep breath and stretched her arms above her head, trying to ease some of the tension from her muscles. She then knelt down to untie her shoelaces, and remove her shoes. They landed in a heap, and her socks and tracksuit bottoms soon followed. There were three lockers in the corner of the room, one for each of the P.E. Teachers. She opened the one on the right, and took out a towel. She threw it onto the back of the office chair. Normally, she'd have to do all this in the tiny shower room, but as everyone else had left early, it being Friday night, she was able to use the space in the office.

She stood back and looked at herself in the mirror on the inside of her locker door. It was full length, and she always liked to check herself out in a mirror. She'd always been athletic, and the smallest sign of fat on her body was a catalyst for some intense physical activity. She put her hands on her hips, and put her weight to one side. A curl of dark brown hair escaped from her pony tail, and down over her pretty, well,-balanced face. She tucked it behind her ear, and lifted her sports-bra over her head and tossed it onto her pile of clothes on the floor.

This was the one area of her body she'd like to improve: her breasts. They were small, which suited her athletic build, but she was by no means flat-chested. She had always suspected that they were the reason guys never seemed to notice her. They always seemed to go for her bigger-boobed friends, even though she thought of herself as the cutest of the group.

She reached up and held her breasts, one in each hand. She lifted them them up, pushed them together, absent-mindedly tweaked her nipples and let them go. Nothing she did could make them look bigger. She sighed, and in one swift movement pulled off her knickers.

She stood naked in front of the mirror. She looked at her bush, and decided she needed to give it a trim.

'Getting a bit wild there girly, sort yourself out,' she muttered to herself.

She turned around, and looked over her shoulder at the reflection of her bum in the mirror. She ran her hands over it, and felt the smooth skin over the tight muscle underneath. She smiled.

'Perfect.'

She turned again and took one last glance at her naked body, and couldn't help but think back to Walking in on Dave, Mid-wank in this very room. She felt her clit tingle.

She grabbed her shower gel from her locker, slammed the door, and walked into the shower room and turned the water on. It was already warm so she hopped straight in.

She let the water cascade over her body for a few seconds before lathering up. She ran her hands over her hands over her arms, her shoulders and worked her way down her back. She began running her hands over the cheeks of her backside, and let her mind wander. She imagined Dave's hands running over her backside. She imagined his lips kissing her skin, softly, all over her body. She brought her hands up and caressed her breasts. She pinched her nipples, imagining Dave caressing them, kissing them, working his tongue around her areolae.

Her right slid down her stomach and found her clit. She rubbed it lightly, sending shivers down her spine. She rubbed it some more, harder now, faster. She massaged at her breasts, running her fingers over her soft soapy skin. Her shoulders rested against the back wall of the shower, and she slid down, until she was sitting, legs spread, on the tiled floor. She rubbed furiously at her clitoris almost out of breath. She leant her head back, and closed her eyes picturing the fresh face of her daydream-buddy buried between her thighs. She felt his breath on her most intimate place. She felt his tongue lapping greedily at her love-bud.

She reached down with her left hand, and slid her index finger into her sopping wet pussy. She moved it in and out, faster and faster. It was soon joined by her middle finger, and then her ring finger. She pounded at herself, still rubbing her clit as fast and as hard as she could until her orgasm hit her, and she jack-knifed, pushing her breasts up, and out towards a mouth, or a pair of hands, that she wished would come, but didn't arrive.

She panted, her breaths getting longer and longer, as her orgasm subsided. She licked her fingers on her left hand, one by one, and tweaked her nipples with her right. She then dropped them to her sides and stared out into her office.

After a while she looked down at herself, not believing what she had just done. At work, in a school, she had just fingered herself to an orgasm while thinking about one of her sixth formers. She pulled her knees up to her chest, rested her chin on them, closed her eyes, and felt the warm water pound at her skin.