Gender: Male Age: Secret Location: London
|Introduction: Please let me know if you like this short story, and I will post Part 2|
Mick Hampton was feeling pretty pissed off. He had sprained his ankle badly the day before, which meant that he wasn’t able to go on the usual cross-country run with the rest of the sixth form that afternoon. He liked cross-country: although he wasn’t much of a long-distance runner, the chance to get off the school premises for an afternoon was enough of an incentive, especially if he managed to share a crafty ciggie with his mate Dave on the way round. Mr Johnson, who usually took his class for games, was pretty laid-back, and would probably have let him sit it out in the library, but for some reason he wasn’t around, and Mr Kentish had made Mick come down here to the old store-rooms round the back of the sixth-form common room, with instructions to clear up some of the mess. It didn’t look as if anyone had made much effort to tidy up for the past sixty years (thought Mick, with pardonable exaggeration), but that did mean that he could probably take it easy. Ron Kentish was a bit strict, but he was most unlikely to check that Mick had actually done any clearing up.
He was just settling down in an old armchair that looked as if had last done service on Noah’s Ark when he heard a noise from the room next door. He jumped up guiltily; perhaps someone had come to check on him after all, and he got ready to look busy before they looked into the room he was in.
The two rooms were actually one large one, but at some time in the past had been divided in two by a sort of partition wall, with a pair of sliding doors to allow them to be opened up if needed. The doors didn’t quite meet in the middle, and by standing up against the gap between them, Mick was able to see quite clearly into the room beyond, and he peered through to see who it was. But what he saw through the gap in the doors made him stop still and hold his breath with surprise. It wasn’t one teacher, it was two: Mr Johnson his games master and Miss Ford, who taught Art. Whatever they had in mind, it wasn’t checking up on him. Mr Johnson had put his arms around Miss Ford, and was kissing her in an increasingly passionate way. She was giving as good as she got, too; it was her gasps of pleasure that had alerted him to their presence.
As Mick watched, Mr Johnson had untucked Miss Ford’s white blouse from her skirt and his hands were roaming up her back, caressing her roughly and pulling her closer to him. She was rubbing her leg against his, and as Mick watched one of her hands slipped down to Mr Johnson’s arse, cupping one of the cheeks hard and pulling his groin hard against hers. Suddenly she paused; it was as if she realised that the point of no return had been reached, and if they didn’t stop now, there would be no going back. As they pulled apart momentarily, Mick could see the bulge of Mr Johnson’s erect cock straining against his trousers. “Oh God, Kathryn”, he gasped, “I can’t help what I feel about you”. Miss Ford’s cheeks were flushed, and her hands were trembling slightly as she looked at him with a smile. “You don’t need to tell me how you feel” she said, “I can feel it for myself”, and she let her hand brush over his erection, making him draw in his breath sharply with pleasure.
“I’ve wanted to do this for a long time” he said, and began to undo the top button on her blouse. For a moment, she tried to stop him. “Oh, Jim”, she said, suddenly aware of where they were, “What if someone else comes?”
“Why should they?” he replied. “All the sixth form are on a cross-country run with Ron, and you’re supposed to be in the Art Block cleaning up after the Fourth years. No-one’s going to come here”.
“You’re right” she agreed, “But I’ve got the Lower Fifth in half an hour; I can’t be away for long”.
“Let’s not waste any more time then” he said, and undid another button, revealing more of the lacy black bra which had often attracted Mick’s attention when they passed in the corridor. Miss Ford had only joined the staff the previous term, replacing another teacher who had gone on maternity leave. Mick’s girlfriend Jenny was in her Art class, and had told him that she was a good teacher, still young enough to remember what it was like to be at school herself, and prepared to let her pupils have a bit of slack as long as they got their work done. She often wore clothes that showed off her attractive body - as Mick and the other lads had noticed. Jenny had told Mick that one hot day the previous month she hadn’t worn a bra at all; her breasts were firm enough that she didn’t really need one. All the boys in the Art class had noticed pretty quickly, and clamoured for Miss Ford to come and look at their work, taking the opportunity to peep down the top of her blouse as she leant over their desks in the hope of getting a glimpse of a nipple or two. Jenny’s opinion had been that Miss Ford was well aware of what was going on, and seemed to be enjoying it, if the erect state of her nipples clearly visible through her blouse was anything to go by. Goodness knows what effect this display had had in the staff-room; perhaps Mr Johnson had noticed and decided to try his luck.
The bra she was now wearing barely covered the top of her firm breasts, which swelled over the top as Mr Johnson undid the last button and pulled her blouse open.
“Christ, Kathryn, I’ve waited a long time to see those tits” he said (echoing Mick’s own thoughts), running his hands over the creamy mounds and caressing them with his fingertips. She pulled him against her again, thrusting her tongue into his mouth as she reached round behind her to undo the clasp that was keeping her breasts in place. She slipped the straps off her shoulders, and let the cups fall forwards, allowing her breasts to spill out into Mr Johnson’s hands. Her nipples were already flushed and pink, and as he ran his fingers over them one at a time, they visibly hardened, with little excited goose-bumps around the aureoles.
Mick couldn’t believe that his own fantasies were being fulfilled. His own cock was stiffer than it had ever been, and he unzipped his own trousers, starting to wank as he gazed at the sight next door. He was careful not to make any noise, but doubted if they would have noticed, so engrossed were they in each other.
Mr Johnson was suckling Miss Ford’s left breast, flicking his tongue over her nipple as she closed her eyes in pleasure. He sucked it into his mouth, making it harden even further, before transferring his attention to the right one. His right hand strayed down towards her groin, rubbing against her crotch through her skirt, causing it to ruck up so Mick could see the top of her thighs. With a free hand Miss Ford pulled her skirt further up round her waist, revealing flimsy black lace panties that matched her bra. As Mr Johnson rubbed his hand over her mound, she moaned deeper, and gasped as his thrusting fingers pushed the material up between her pussy lips, rubbing against her sensitive clit. His fingers pushed the material to one side, revealing her pink labia, already glistening with pussy juice. His forefinger slipped between the two outer lips, then penetrated her fully, thrusting deeply as far as it could go. A second finger followed, then a third, and Mick could hear the slurping sound as they thrust in and out of her juicy hole. Miss Ford was humping her crotch forward, meeting Mr Johnson’s thrusts with ones of her own. She was letting out little squeals of delight, “Oh yes, that feels so good…deeper, darling, deeper…oh shit, yes…I think I’m going to cum…don’t stop…oh yes”. Suddenly her voice rose to a crescendo, as she came with a shudder, almost knocking Mr Johnson over as she thrust against him.
Mr Johnson let his sticky fingers slip out of her sopping wet pussy, gently caressing her glistening pink labia, which seemed to be blushing with excitement. She pulled his hand up to her mouth, and sucked some of the juice off, rubbing the rest over her nipples so they glistened like little jewels. Before Mr Johnson could say anything, her hand went down to his bulging erection, which was threatening to burst out of his trousers.
“It’s about time we did something about this” Miss Ford smiled, as she dragged down his zip and pulled his cock out of his trousers. Mick couldn’t help thinking that it looked pretty big, grasped in her small hand, but certainly no bigger than his own at that moment. He wanked even harder as Miss Ford bent over and flicked her tongue over the purple tip, much as Mr Johnson had done to her nipple. She gripped the shaft at its base and, without a word, opened her mouth and took his cock deep inside.
“Oh Christ, Kathryn” groaned Mr Johnson, leaning back against the table to allow his erection to thrust further down her throat. “Yes, that feels so good. Lick it more, oh God yes”. He was thrusting his crotch forward as she licked her tongue around his shaft; now taking it deep into her throat; now pulling out and tickling her tongue around the sensitive crown.
Still clasping his cock in her hand, Miss Ford kissed him again, letting him taste his own salty pre-cum. She rubbed his cock gently over her tits, stimulating her nipples with the purple tip. Another drop of pre-cum dribbled out, and she rubbed it over the rock-hard points. She slipped his cock into the valley between her breasts, engulfing it completely except for the tip which peeped perkily out of the top of her cleavage. Using both her hands, she mashed her breasts together, stimulating him still further if the sound of his gasps was anything to go by.
By the sound of things, he seemed to be nearing his climax. Mick was certainly nearing his; Miss Ford released Mr Johnson’s cock from her breasts and took it back into her mouth, this time seeming to suck it even deeper into her throat. Her right hand still pumped his shaft, while her left one clutched at her own breasts as she sucked, squeezing her nipples as she let out a series of little groans.
“Oh shit, I’m cumming” gasped Mr Johnson, “Oh Christ, oh God, yes”. Miss Ford slipped his cock out of her mouth but carried on rubbing her hand up and down the shaft. With a final pump, a huge jet of spunk shot out of his cock and onto her breasts, coating her left nipple in a thick white gobbet of cream. Guided by her hand, the second and third shots also hit her breasts. As Mr Johnson’s ejaculations subsided, she rubbed his cock over them, smearing the last remaining bubbles of spunk over the mounds.
Mick too could hold out no longer, and his own cock exploded with the biggest stream of cum he had ever achieved, hitting the side of the door and running down it in a serious of obscene rivulets. As his breathing calmed down to a more normal level, he watched as Miss Ford gave Mr Johnson’s wilting cock one last lick as she tucked it back into his trousers.
“Time’s getting on” she said with a smile. “My girls will be wondering where I’ve got to if I don’t hurry up”. She stood up, her breasts still coated in streams of spunk, which was starting to run down the sides.
“Let me clean you up, Kathryn” said Mr Johnson, groping in his pocket for what was presumably a handkerchief or packet of tissues.
“Oh no, you don’t,” she replied, picking up her bra from where it had fallen onto the floor. “I want to remember this for the rest of the day”. Shrugging the straps back over her shoulders, without further ado she slipped her still sticky breasts back into the cups. Globules of thick spunk oozed through the lacy holes and over the top. These she wiped off with her finger; raising it to her nose, she sniffed the salty aroma and purred in pleasurable recollection, before slipping the finger into her mouth and licking it off.
“Mmm, that’s sticky”, she giggled, adjusting the fit by wiggling the cups of her bra. “I hope the kids don’t notice any damp patches”. She sniffed up the scent again as she re-buttoned her blouse to cover up the evidence. Mick couldn’t help thinking that the smell of fresh semen would give her away, even if the spunk had dried a little by the time she got back to her class.
“Shit, Kathryn, I love you” said Mr Johnson, pulling her towards him again and kissing her.
“Careful,” she laughed, “You’ll mess up my clothes again”.
“When can I see you again?” he asked eagerly.
“Listen”, she said” “I can get Susie to cover for me next Thursday – she likes looking after the Lower Fifth. If you can get cover too, we can have longer next time…”
“Ron owes me a favour” said Mr Johnson with a grin. “I covered for him when he was fucking the visiting French teacher last term”.
“I didn’t know about that!” cried Miss Ford “I bet that was why she always looked a bit flushed last thing on a Wednesday! The little tart!”
“Tart yourself” smiled Mr Johnson, and squeezed her arse through her skirt. “See you later over coffee, then”. And with a final kiss, they slipped out of the door.
Mick’s cock was still stiff; he stuffed it back into his trousers, and thought about what he had just witnessed. He liked Mr Johnson, and had no wish to get him into trouble, and Miss Ford was much too pretty for him to want her to be forced to leave. In any case, the chance of seeing something similar next week was too good to miss. Even if his ankle was better by next week, there was no reason for anyone at school to know, and he could make sure he was here again. But what he really needed was an excuse to get his girlfriend, Jenny, here as well; he quite fancied his chances if she got a look at some horny goings-on. He would have to think of something…
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