This is the third of seven parallel and related stories; they work best if read in sequence. To find the other chapters, follow the author link above. These stories are fiction, and all places and characters are invented.
copyright: Lesley Tara, 2010
It is the annual alumni reunion event at the Lauderton High School, which they hold in the large gymnasium in the main school building. The events in these stories take place at various times during the evening, and to different characters; they are not chapters of the same story, but a series of separate takes. We are the invisible camera, panning around the scene and then zooming in for a close-up ...
Moira McIver, the Principal of the school, had been standing near the entrance to the gym for more than two hours, welcoming guests to the reunion. However, she knew hardly any of them, as it had only been two years since her appointment to the post. She was a smart and ambitious career woman who had made a name for herself as the enterprising Vice-Principal of a struggling high school in a nearby town, and her charisma and vision had resulted in her being chosen as the new Principal over more experienced candidates, at the age of only thirty-six. She was now thirty-eight, brisk, energetic and capable; she was single and seemed to be entirely focused on the job, working long hours and on the weekends as well.
The room was warm, and the Principal was feeling uncomfortable in her smart two-piece suit of a double-breasted three-button jacket and a short tight skirt with a back vent, in navy blue with quite bold pinstripes of alternating white and grey. She was glad that on this slightly sticky summer evening she had decided not to wear tights or stockings; on her feet were a rather stylish pair of gold open-toe shoes with three-inch heels to boost her height – the reason for this being that Moira was fairly short, at only five feet three inches. One consequence of her more diminutive stature was that it drew even more attention to the prominence of her bust. She had always had very large breasts, which she regarded more as a curse than a blessing: not only did they encourage unwanted propositions from men, but even with carefully-chosen bras that had wide shoulder straps and broad supportive backbands, after standing for some time she always began to ache in the back and shoulders. On top of this, she was getting a headache from the loud buzz of conversation, or possibly because she had drunk a glass or two more of the fizzy white wine than she really should have. The Principal took off her brown-framed glasses to rub the bridge of her nose for a few seconds, and then replaced them and glanced once more around the room.
The evening was beginning to wind down. Moira was pleased to see that most of the teaching staff were still present and circulating amongst the guests, although a few had left – she had noticed Sally Henrikson earlier but couldn’t spot her now, and Ted Winchester and Raquel Fuentes also seemed to have disappeared. Neither of the latter surprised her: she knew that the Hispanic woman found these events to be rather a trial, whilst Ted’s wife was shortly expecting their first baby and Moira had not been sure that he would be able to attend at all. Across the room, the Principal observed the school’s most senior teacher, grey-haired and stately Eugenia Dawson, talking with middle-aged couples who must have graduated twenty-five or more years before – in fact, she noticed several who now had sons and daughters at the school. Moira observed an amusing contrast with a smile: from her angle of view, the school’s youngest teacher – a very noticeable figure in an eye-catching red halterneck dress of a brevity perhaps more suited to dancing in a club than an event like this – was visible almost next to Eugenia, although they were actually some distance apart. Elsewhere, the energetic Jenny Neustein was still much in evidence; together with the Vice-Principal, she had undertaken the task of organising the event, arranging the catering and the student helpers, and so on. Moira made a point of having a word to thank her for her efforts, as everything had gone very well.
The Principal turned as her deputy, Jacquelyn Drake, approached and handed her another glass of the bubbly white wine. Moira smiled her thanks, although in truth she was not quite sure of how well-disposed the woman felt towards her. Jacquelyn was a few years older, having just turned forty-three, and she had already served as Vice-Principal for nearly four years when Mr Robertson had announced his retirement. Although a little uninspiring, she was an efficient administrator and naturally had been a strong candidate for the vacancy. Moira thought that she could not have been happy about being passed over for a younger woman, but if that was the case then Jacquelyn had hidden her feelings well, and never hinted at any resentment towards her. Their working relationship had been perhaps a little distant and formal, but very professional; of course, Moira could not know that this was going to change completely that very evening.
Although there was a slight thickening around her waist, Jacquelyn Drake had kept her figure trim over the years from a combination of regular work-outs and a careful, healthy diet. There were slight lines around her mouth and, if you looked closely, faint crow’s feet at the corners of her eyes, but her skin was smooth, pink and youthful, and at first glance most people would have guessed her age as being in the mid-30s rather than approaching the mid-40s. Her hair was a soft brown colour, not quite as fair as it had once been, and was attractively styled in a wave across her forehead and neatly-shaped to below the ears; it framed her well-proportioned features and highlighted her clear grey eyes. Her breasts were still shapely and had very little sag (she was proud that she could still pass the ‘pencil test’); they were snugly held in her 32C bra. For this evening, she was wearing one of her smartest suits: it was in a dark and sober shade of red, with a longish straight jacket and a pencil skirt than came to a little below the knees and just overlapped the top of her smart black leather boots. She wore a black silk blouse under the suit jacket; the simple alternating contrasts of red and black were very effective, and were further highlighted by her accessories of plain gold chain necklace, bangles and wrist-watch. Jacquelyn was a perfectly proper and professional sight, but by no means prim – her slightly austere good looks, trim figure and arresting combination of boots and suit had turned a few interested eyes her way during the evening – and not all of them male.
The Principal did not notice how carefully Jacquelyn watched as she emptied her glass, and was completely unaware that her drink had been spiked with a tasteless powdered sleeping draught. It was a product which had been withdrawn from sale after publicity about its potent knock-out effects when combined with alcohol – especially any fizzy wine, as the bubbles carried it more rapidly into the bloodstream. The chance of already possessing a box of this had been the germination of Jacquelyn’s plan so many months ago, and she had been patiently awaiting this opportunity to put it into effect. She watched her superior carefully, and was soon rewarded as Moira quite suddenly began to feel light-headed and dizzy. The full-busted woman staggered slightly and had put a hand out against the nearby table to stop herself from falling over, and at once Jacquelyn solicitously enquired, in all apparent surprise and innocence, if the Principal was feeling all right?
‘No, I’m sorry, Jacquelyn, I don’t feel good at all,’ answered Moira with some effort, ‘I think the wine’s gone to my head, or something – in fact, I feel like I might pass out.’
At once, Jacquelyn stepped in with her customary brisk efficiency. ‘We can’t have that happen in here, in front of everyone – it will set all the tongues wagging. Anyway, it’s nearly over – I’ll take you home, you’re not in a fit state to drive safely.’
Moira started to protest, but the room swam in front of her eyes, and she realised that her deputy was certainly right – how kind of her to take this trouble.
Jacquelyn spoke quickly to Jenny Neustein, explaining that the Principal was feeling unwell and she would see her home, if Jenny could manage things here and deal with the clearing up. The younger teacher cheerfully replied that it would be no problem, she had enough student helpers to make quick work of it, and she would make sure all the lights were switched off and the building was safely locked up.
By now, the sleeping potion was having more effect as it mixed with the alcohol that Moira had drunk earlier, and she was looking glazed and feeling quite disoriented. Why was she in this place and who were all these people, she wondered? Jacquelyn took her by the elbow, and steered her unobtrusively out of the side door into a deserted corridor. At one point, Moira stumbled and would have fallen, but Jacquelyn, who was both taller and stronger, put an arm around her shoulders and held her up. The deputy steered them to the Principal’s office, unlocking the door with the keys from Moira’s handbag and then carefully re-locking it behind them. Jacquelyn sat the almost comatose woman in the executive-style chair behind the desk, letting Moira’s head loll against its high back. She unpinned the Principal’s long brown hair and let it tumble in some disarray around her shoulders, and then for safety she removed Moira’s glasses and put them away in the younger woman’s bag. Jacquelyn contemplated the inert form of her superior with evident satisfaction – she had long waited and planned for this moment, and intended to savour every second of it.
From her own copious bag, Jacquelyn produced a good-quality digital camera which was capable of taking clear pictures indoors without having to use flash. She started with a couple of shots of the fully-dressed Principal slumped in her chair, with her hair dishevelled. The appearance that she had been found in a drunken stupor was confirmed by the half-empty whisky bottle which Jacquelyn had also brought with her, and which she positioned on the desk with a partly-filled glass next to the Principal’s right hand. This was her insurance policy, a blackmail leverage should the sleeping drug wear off too soon, or the Principal later recall the evening’s events with too much clarity.
Jacquelyn shrugged off her own jacket, putting it out of view on a chair near the door, and then she eased Moira’s arms out of her pinstripe suit jacket and removed that as well. The Principal had not needed to wear a top underneath this, and so her large and heavy breasts were revealed in all their splendour – although her bra band size was probably only a 30, she had to be a F cup at the least and quite probably a G. Jacquelyn felt herself becoming warm and excited, a bit damp between the legs, as she gazed admiringly at the Principal’s superb pair of tits, which were still very firm, shapely and smooth-skinned for a woman who was approaching forty years of age. They were encased in an underwired full-cup bra, white with yellow trimming; its wide straps, central panel and broad backband were essential buttressing support.
Standing behind the chair, Jacquelyn began by massaging the younger woman’s shoulders gently and sensuously. Moira stirred and shifted slightly, her eyes still closed, and she gave a murmuring sound of relaxation and pleasure. It was all the encouragement that Jacquelyn needed, and she slid her hands down to cup and stroke the Principal’s huge ripe breasts, working around the nipples and then gently squeezing them through the fabric of her bra. Although drugged, Moira’s body responded as she stretched her back, thrusting her mountainous mammaries upwards and forwards, and parted her thighs. ‘You fucking slut,’ thought Jacquelyn in vindictive triumph, ‘I knew it, you cunt, you’re mine now, I own you and I’ll have you.’
For a while, Jacquelyn left Moira’s breasts in the brassiere cups as she stroked them, but then she slipped a hand in underneath and scooped them out to flop over on top. Admiring the resulting pose, the Vice-Principal took several more pictures – although these, and the others to follow, were more for her later private pleasure and masturbatory enjoyment. Before taking the last of this set of pictures, Jacquelyn turned the swivel chair sideways to the desk, and slid Moira’s short skirt up to her hips. It took only the encouragement of gently pressing the palm of her hand against the Principal’s inner thighs to get the woman to spread her legs wide apart, offering a full view of the creamy smooth flesh of her upper thighs and the crotch of her surprisingly skimpy and racy triangular thong, part of a matching set with her bra.
Jacquelyn was feeling warmed up, and now removed her own top and skirt. She had dressed carefully for this exquisite feast, and so was left in her smartest black boots, sheer black stockings that were held up by a scarlet-and-black garter belt, and the matching gauzy and miniscule thong and push-up half-cup bra from the same set (purchased by mail order; she would not have dared to buy anything this sluttish in the town, even if any shop stocked such salacious items). Almost salivating with lust and anticipation, Jacquelyn knelt between the Principal’s spread legs and leaned forward to take Moira’s right breast into her mouth, whilst gripping and fondling the left breast with her free hand. She licked around it, and then began to suck vigorously on the tit, and even to tease it with her teeth. The Principal’s nipples almost instantly hardened into pointed erectness, and she moaned in ecstatic response. To Jacquelyn’s amazement, broken words issued from Moira’s mouth:
‘Mmm, mmmm, ooh, yes! Oh, Michelle, please – suck me, fuck me! Aaahh! Honey, Michelle, babe, please, fuck me like you used to, I haven’t had it for so long! YES!! OH, YESSSS – DO ME LIKE THAT!!’ And Moira shuddered, her hips shaking and the crotch of her panties gaining a large damp patch as she visibly reached an orgasm. Jacquelyn rocked back on her heels in delighted surprise, her suspicions confirmed far more easily than she had ever expected.
‘You cunt!’ she thought gleefully, ‘you’re a fucking lesbo, I knew it, you slut! And you’re gonna be my pussy now, my piece of ass!’
The Vice-Principal pushed her superior’s short tight skirt up around her waist – the almost unconscious Principal instinctively raising her buttocks from the chair for a moment to facilitate this. Jacquelyn rested the palm of her hand against the crotch of Moira’s panties, cupping the younger woman’s mound and feeling its enticing moist softness and warmth. She ran her thumb up and down the visible pussy cleft, causing the Principal to moan and arch her back, slumping downwards several inches in the chair into a posture which allowed her legs to spread even wider apart.
Jacquelyn hooked her fingers into the narrow band of the thong at each hip, and slowly drew it down and off – after which, her boss’s legs lolled open again, showing her pussy with its closely trimmed fringe of dark hair. The older woman stroked this for a moment and then inserted two fingers to prise apart the labia, revealing the pink wetness between. She bent forwards, tongue outstretched, and began to lick and nuzzle the Principal’s vagina.
Under this erotic stimulus, Moira stirred again, although she was still deep in a delirious haze. In her confused state, her memory now went back to a much earlier time, long before the break-up with her last long-term lover, Michelle. She groaned and thrust one hand down to manipulate her own clitoris, and began to mumble again:
‘Umm, Miss Norrington, you shouldn’t ... ooooaah, mmm, Miss Norrington, we mustn’t do this! ... aaaa ... oooh! but it’s so good, I love it when you touch me there, Miss, when you lick me ... oooohh, that’s so good! ... mmmm ... Miss Norrington, fuck me, please make me cum ... Ah! Oh! Ah!! YES!! like that, ooh, please Miss ... MAKE ME CUM! ... YES! YES!! YES!!!
The Vice-Principal withdrew her tongue from its delving exploration of Moira’s cunt, savouring the taste of pussy-juice and watching with glee as her boss, clearly operating on auto-pilot, furiously rubbed her clitoral hood until she achieved another gasping orgasm – the final stages of which Jacquelyn captured with several more pictures from her camera. She was even more thrilled by what she had heard, for the name was quite distinctive; from her knowledge of Moira’s curriculum vitae, Jacquelyn knew that this had been her high school Principal and that she was hearing a memory of Moira’s lesbian initiation. Miss Norrington had been quite a prominent (and, amongst the lesbian teachers, notorious) figure in the state education system for many years, although Jacquelyn had only come across her once – quite literally, at a conference in the state capital not long after she had started her first teaching post, when the experienced dyke had deftly seduced her and taken her to her hotel room, where she had fucked the attractive young Jacquelyn with her mouth, fingers and strap-on for several hours – it was still quite vivid in the Vice-Principal’s memory as one of the hardest sustained fuckings she that had ever been dealt. Well, if that was who had taken the young Moira McIver’s lesbian cherry, no wonder the big-titted bitch was so highly sexed – which made it all the more amazing that she had kept a lid on her preference and appetite for these last two years.
‘You slutty lezzie bitch’, Jacquelyn breathed, her own pussy soaking as she imagined the young Moira, probably in the 9th grade and aged fifteen, with her panties off and her legs pulled wide apart as the tall trim authoritarian figure of Miss Norrington knelt to eat out her cunt – God, the girl must have had those amazing tits even then, no wonder the old dyke hadn’t been able to keep her hands off her!
Jacquelyn was now more than ready for the next stage of her planned sexual conquest and revenge. She had expected this to be the most difficult part physically, as she had to get the almost inert Principal first of all into an upright position. However, although Moira seemed to have nodded off after her orgasm, she was not deeply unconscious – and when Jacquelyn put her hand to the base of her boss’s pussy and pressed upwards, the younger woman responded by rising to her feet – admittedly with her eyes still closed and very unsteadily, but it greatly helped Jacquelyn who had only to steady her rather than support her whole weight. The Vice-Principal left Moira’s bra in place, although its former contents now dangled pendulously out from of it. Gripping the Principal’s skirt, which was bunched tightly above her hips, Jacquelyn rotated the full-busted woman towards her own desk and then pushed her down onto it, with her face and tits resting on its top and her ass and pussy sticking out over the edge. She could not resist reaching under the prone Principal to grip and squeeze her ripe breasts, kneading the hardened nipples and making Moira – whose eyes remained closed – gasp and once again beg ‘Miss Norrington’ to ‘fuck my pussy – please, Miss, please!’ From her imprecations to her former teacher, it was clear that this was a position which long ago Moira had quite often assumed for that Principal’s private pleasure.
The Vice-Principal savoured the sight of her nemesis in this sexually vulnerable and available pose, and took more pictures from several angles of her boss, who was now naked apart from her shoes, the skirt up around her waist and the large bra from which her huge tits had been extracted. Then Jacquelyn put the camera away in her bag and withdrew her favourite and largest strap-on – one which she had not had any opportunity to use on another woman for many months. She stripped off her flimsy thong and buckled the dildo in its place, over the straps of her suspender belt. The bitch’s cunt is so wet, thought Jacquelyn, there’s no need for lube; she positioned herself between the prone woman’s outflung legs, and shoved the plastic cock quite roughly into her vagina. The Principal moaned and shuddered, but her words were all broken beggings to be fucked and screwed harder and harder – and her mumbled memories were now a chaotic mix not only of Michelle and Miss Norrington, but also of someone called Abi (who seemed to have been a friend and lover from her school or college days), an Emily, a Rebecca and an enticing-sounding Mei-Lien, together with a Faye who seemed to have been a fellow teacher at Moira’s first school – clearly something of an expert with a strap-on, and probably an older woman.
‘You spread your pussy about, didn’t you, you slut?’ grumbled Jacquelyn with some jealousy, for she had only had three lovers in the last fifteen years, with quite long desert spells – as now – in between. In fact, she had been so starved of sexual activity for the last couple of years that she had recently imagined signs of interest from one of the youngest teachers, but she had swiftly dismissed the notion as most likely the product of her frustration and over-heated imagination.
Jacquelyn adjusted her position, reached forwards with her left hand to grasp the centre backband of Moira’s bra, withdrew the dildo fairly slowly and then firmly rammed it back in again. This began a rapid, hard, unrelenting shafting of the Principal’s cunt; in her befuddled state, Moira was dimly aware of this and could feel her body responding and her climax start to build, but she had only the haziest idea of where she was and who was doing this to her.
As Jacquelyn had known would happen, she was becoming stimulated herself from the friction of the between-the-legs understrap of the dildo’s harness, which was slipping between her opening labia and rubbing along the inside of her vagina with growing intensity of effects similar to a tribbing session. The older woman began to sweat and pant, her movements becoming more convulsive as her every one of her senses was stimulated: touch, from the rubbing of the harness in her own cunt and her grasp on Moira’s body; smell and taste, from the Principal’s gaping pussy and its dripping juices; hearing, from the mewling sounds and mumbled beggings that Moira was making, and, most of all, sight – the vision of the bitch who had thwarted her ambitions now sprawled almost naked, helpless and vulnerable, and taking a hard fucking on her own office desk; really, if the Principal had not turned out to be a lesbian and been so physically responsive, it would have been rape.
As it was, in the intensity of Jacquelyn’s arousal she seized the Principal hair’s with one hand and hauled the busty woman’s torso upwards from the desk top, forcing her back to arch so that she was taking the dildo-fucking from another angle which would impact even more surely on her clit, and then Jacquelyn reached round with her other hand and mauled the Principal’s heavy breasts, which were swaying wildly in the air. The sensual excitement finally sent Jacquelyn over the top, and she came in a massive triple orgasm just as her victim climaxed as well. Their combined gasps and moans drowned out the faint sound of footsteps in the corridor outside – pausing for a moment outside the locked study door, and then pattering quietly away again.
Jacquelyn collapsed on top of Moira’s back, as the younger woman swooned beneath her. The Vice-Principal was exhilarated and exhausted, and she felt completely drained in more ways than just the physical and sexual. She pushed herself upright, sliding the dildo out of Moira’s cunt, at which the comatose Principal moaned slightly in regret. Jacquelyn unbuckled the strap-on, wiped it with tissues and put it back in her bag. Then she stood for a moment, looking down at her vanquished boss. She felt washed out, empty, almost cleansed – it was as if the cataclysmic orgasm had uncorked and released all of her bile and envy.
Quite suddenly, Jacquelyn felt almost as if she was coming back to her normal self after a long illness, and was shocked by the strength of the anger that now seemed to have washed away. It was true that she had felt very bitter at being passed over for the Principalship, especially as she had too much taken for granted that the reversion was hers almost by right. When the post had gone instead to a younger woman, Jacquelyn reluctantly had to swallow the realisation that by the time the new Principal moved on, she would be too old to have a chance again. Meeting Moira had rubbed salt in the wound: when Jacquelyn had seen her amazing bust – which was always well-exhibited in her tightly-tailored suits – she had scathingly ascribed the choice to that alone, grumbling privately to herself that the cow had only had to point her hooters at the selection board for them to fall over themselves to give her the job. Whilst Jacquelyn had given no outward sign of hostility, she had nursed this kernel of resentment quietly, in an unconscious compensation for her growing fixation with her boss’s curvaceous figure and truly stunning breasts. However, as the months passed she had come to appreciate Moira’s qualities through working with her, had come to admire her and to see why the appointing committee had chosen her ... and had, perhaps, started to feel other things for her as well, but until this evening she had had no inkling of where the ever-professional and rather private Principal’s tastes or affections might lie.
With a shudder, Jacquelyn began to wonder if she had made a dreadful mistake – if this plan, concocted so many months ago when her rancid feelings had been at their height, had been such a good idea after all. Still, it had been fun – and it had revealed the well-kept secret that Moira was a lesbian. Jacquelyn pondered what to do, and as she did so she traced her fingernails gently up and down the length of Moira’s spine. The drugged woman stirred in response, and mumbled:
‘Do me, do me again – fuck me again, I need it so bad! Fuck me, make me cum and cum and cum!’
‘Shit, you are hot stuff, aren’t you?’, breathed Jacquelyn softly, raising her eyebrows: Moira shouldn’t have been this responsive so soon after ingesting the powerful drug – evidently the woman had an unusually strong sex drive! The Vice-Principal looked down at the attractive form of her boss, savouring her ‘just been fucked’ sprawl and smell. Perhaps this could go another way, she mused, perhaps a much better way. Jacquelyn stroked Moira’s neck, lifting her tangled dark hair and combing it through her fingers. Then, coming to a decision, she bent over and, with a delicate touch, she gently kissed the prone woman on the back and side of her neck. It was as if Jacquelyn’s world shifted around inside her head, changing her perspective, disorienting her for a vertiginous moment. She had never believed in the old cliches about love/hate relationships, but now she wasn’t so sure ...
There was going to be a change of plan. Originally, after fucking the Principal on her own desk, Jacquelyn had intended to dress her, drive her to her own home, lay her out on her bed – still clothed – and leave her there. She would thereby have carried out her good deed of ‘seeing the Principal home’, and any hazy memories which Moira might have when she woke up could be dismissed as wild dreams – with a hint that the Principal had over-indulged in alcohol at the reunion. Instead, Jacquelyn revised the remainder of that schedule. With a little difficulty, she got Moira’s clothes back on, and then shook and revived the Principal enough to stand up and totter along the corridor, with her weight leaning against the older woman. Although the reunion was surely over by now, Jacquelyn did not want to run the risk of encountering any lingering guests or – even worse – Jenny Neustein’s student helpers. So she steered Moira away from the main front entrance, and used her master key to unlock one of the fire exits on the side of the building, without setting off any alarms. The sweet fresh night air was balmy and it revived Moira a little, making her easier to manage. Jacquelyn steered her superior along the gravel path, aiming to come out at the parking area on its unlit side; there was no one around and it was peaceful and still, apart a brief rustle in the hedge from some small nocturnal animal.
At her car, a serviceable but ageing Volkswagen which Jacquelyn had recently caught herself ruefully considering was a good parallel for its owner, she managed to get Moira to lie across the back seat. She checked that Moira’s own car was securely locked, before leaving it there and driving the two miles to her own house – a small but pretty whiteboard built in the 1920s, in its own quite generous lot. Somehow, she woke Moira again and got the half-conscious woman into the house; just before they entered, the cool air refreshed the Principal briefly once more, and she fastened her mouth onto Jacquelyn’s for a passionate kiss, before her deputy was able to steer her inside. With some care, in case they both toppled down, Jacquelyn manoeuvred the giggling and stumbling Principal upstairs to the big double-bed in her own bedroom. The Vice-Principal had lived alone for the last eighteen months (before that, she had shared the house with a female ‘cousin’ who in fact had been her lover, not a relative), so there was no one else to bother about.
With a deep sigh of relaxation, Moira collapsed onto the soft mattress, her eyes closing in slumber once again. Tenderly, Jacquelyn undressed the Principal, and then pulled the light duvet over the naked woman. She neatly folded Moira’s clothes – noting in the process that the Principal did indeed take a G cup bra size – and then took off her own, used the bathroom and slipped under the duvet from the other side. Moira murmured something, in a more normal tone – less druggy, more just plain sleepy – and Jacquelyn felt a new thrill as the younger woman snuggled up closer and then reached for her, wrapping her arms about her body. Although her eyes were still closed, one of Moira’s hands found Jacquelyn’s left breast and squeezed it, and then drew it down to her mouth, starting to lick and suck it.
‘My God, you’re insatiable!’ gasped Jacquelyn, turned on again by these attentions. She cast the duvet aside, rolled over on top of Moira, and began a tribbing session, their legs entwined and pussies grinding together. This only aroused her more – until she noticed with shock that Moira’s eyes were open and looking at her, although with a vacancy that suggested she was still at least partly under the influence of the sleeping drug.
‘I don’t know how I got here, but – Jacquelyn? – that’s wonderful, please, don’t stop’, and to prove her point, the sexy Principal spread her legs even wider apart. This was too good to refuse, and Jacquelyn slipped out of bed to retrieve the strap-on from her bag. This time, however, she fucked Moira in the missionary position, looking intently at her face, and did it slowly and gently at first – although she finished firmer and faster, in response to Moira’s screamed requests to ‘give it me good’ and ‘fuck me hard’. Once again, Jacquelyn orgasmed herself, even though Moira was not touching her clit and there was no dildo in her own vagina. She was too tired to do more than unfasten the strap-on and drop it at the side of the bed, before the two women fell asleep, entangled together.
It was mid-morning on Sunday when the sunshine through the bedroom curtains woke Moira. She closed her eyes tightly against the brightness, feeling muzzy and hung-over, with a headache and a dry mouth. What had she been thinking of the night before, to have had so many glasses – the fizzy white wine had been deceptively strong. She didn’t remember much about the later evening, and anyway – suddenly, she realised that she was not at her own home, and was naked in someone else’s bed! Where on earth was she?
Moira felt a hand gently stroke her forehead, lifting her damp hair away with soothing gentleness. She opened her eyes and gasped in shock – in bed next to her, also naked, was Jacquelyn Drake, of all people! She was struck dumb for a moment, but took in Jacquelyn’s warm smile – much warmer than anything she had seen from her at school – and her attractive body, her still firm and pert breasts with their visibly erect nipples. Moira thought her deputy looked pretty hot for someone of forty-three, and she was far from being turned off – her taste had always been for older lovers, ever since as a teenager she had been seduced by Miss Norrington (who had then been nearing forty), the event which had set her feet firmly on the twin paths of school-teaching and lesbianism. As all this was flashing through her mind, together with a few vague and jumbled impressions from the previous night in her office (Christ!! did we fuck on my desk?) and clearer ones from the bedroom afterwards, Jacquelyn leaned forward, her breasts swinging seductively, and kissed her on the lips.
Moira lay speechless in stunned amazement. She had not been with another woman for nearly four years – and now this? No wonder her drunken self had leapt at it, somehow she must have subconsciously picked up on Jacquelyn’s interest and availability.
‘Hi, hot stuff,’ said Jacquelyn, cupping one of the Principal’s huge breasts and then lowering her mouth to lick around and suck on the nipple. Moira gave a slightly desperate moan, and then her long-suppressed needs made something snap: she didn’t need to be so fucking nun-like all the time, did she? – there was no vow of celibacy involved in being Principal (although, as a lesbian, there had to be discretion). And what could be more discrete than an affair with her deputy? – no one would question the many meetings and consultations they would need to have, or their becoming friends and visiting each other’s houses. And, by God, she wanted this, she needed this – and her hazy impressions of last night, and the sweet tenderness in her vagina, were evidence enough that the apparently-conventional Ms Jacquelyn Drake was an accomplished lesbian lover. Moira looked up at her, smiled with unfeigned pleasure, and said:
‘Hallo yourself, sexy lady. I hope pussy is on the breakfast menu in this house?’
Jacquelyn felt a thrill of exhilaration unlike anything she known for years. She returned a radiant smile which transformed her usually sober expression, making her seem younger, livelier and happier than Moira had ever see her before – and even more attractive.
‘Oh, yes babe!’ replied Jacquelyn with an eager laugh, as one hand slipped to her own crotch and toyed with her slit; ‘and titties too ... yours are just so magnificent’, she added, with open admiration.
‘Do you really like them?’ asked Moira, a little shyly, for she had quite mixed feelings about her big breasts. Lying on the soft bed and looking up at Jacquelyn’s trim figure, she suddenly felt deliciously submissive towards her day-time subordinate. Fluttering her eyelashes coquettishly, Moira purred: ‘they’re all yours – you can do whatever you like with them.’
Jacquelyn gave a slight gasp at this wonderfully erotic offer from the big-busted woman in her bed, and felt her own responding wetness. She knew exactly what she wanted to do: she threw the duvet off the bed, and swung a leg across so that she was straddling Moira’s chest. Taking one of the Principal’s full breasts in her left hand, she squeezed it firmly so that the nipple was pushed upwards like a mountain peak, and then she lowered her gaping labial lips over it, forcing the tit into the cavity of her vagina. Grasping the breast, she used it like a substitute dildo, vigorously frotting the erect nipple up and down inside her pussy and grunting in arousal as she did so. It was also intensely stimulating for Moira, the sensations from the titty-fucking radiating out from her breast like wildfire, and she began to squirm and moan beneath Jacquelyn, her movements turning on the older woman even more. Jacquelyn’s head went back as she forced her cunt down even harder, and at the same time she reached behind with her free hand to clutch Moira between the legs. The Principal gave a mewl of delighted pleasure and spread her thighs apart, as Jacquelyn’s long forefinger plunged into her vagina whilst her thumb sought out her clitoris – seizing them both in a pincer-like grip, and rubbing in erogenous stimulation. She certainly seemed to hit Moira’s G-spot, as the younger woman began to give rasping cries and to buck and thrust underneath Jacquelyn so forcefully that she might have toppled off if Moira had not reached out with both hands to hold her at the waist. With wild abandon, shoving even more of Moira’s warm and amazingly malleable breast into her cavity, Jacquelyn rode them both to an intense and prolonged simultaneous climax. As Moira’s explosive orgasm receded, she released her grip on Jacquelyn and the older woman slid down onto the bed beside her, breathless and dizzy from her exertions and their amazingly satisfying results.
‘Oh my God, Jacquelyn, that was wonderful’, sighed Moira, nuzzling her soft breasts against the taller woman. ‘I do hope you’re going to be doing this to me often ... very often ... very, very often!’
The naked Vice-Principal gazed tenderly at the nude body of the Principal (My God, if the staff or students could see us now! she suddenly thought, and had to struggle to suppress a delighted giggle). She replied with simple and wholly convincing sincerity:
‘I’d love to, Moira, I’d love to.’
In that instant, Jacquelyn moved from simple physical desire to falling in love, and determined that at the first chance she could get, she would delete all of the pictures she had taken the previous night. It was time for a fresh start, a truly new dawn, she thought, as the two women settled down to a long 69, broken only by cries of encouragement, squeals of pleasure and gasps of orgasmic ecstasy.
If you enjoyed this, check out my other stories ... you might like them too ... (to find them, follow the author link at the top of this story)