To be honest, I was feeling pretty fed up that Wednesday afternoon. I had twisted my ankle the day before, and although it wasn’t that serious, it meant that I wasn’t able to go on the usual cross-country run with the rest of the sixth form. I liked cross-country. Although I wasn’t much of a long-distance runner, the chance to get off the school premises for an afternoon made it good for a laugh, especially as my best friend Helen and I usually managed to have a bit of a chat on the way round. Miss Sharpe, who usually took our class for games, was pretty laid-back, and would probably have let me sit it out in the library, or even go home early, but for some reason she wasn’t around, and Mrs Kentish had made me 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, but I wasn’t planning to bust a gut. Mrs K would be running round with the girls, making sure they didn’t bunk off after the first half-mile to have a crafty cigarette under the railway bridge, so I hoped she’d forget to check whether I’d actually done any clearing up.
So I just shifted a couple of boxes around to show I had at least been there, before settling down in an old armchair that looked as if had been used on Noah’s Ark. I’d just got out my new i-phone to listen to some music, when suddenly I heard a noise from the room next door. I jumped up guiltily; perhaps someone had come to check on me after all, and I got ready to look busy before they looked into the room I was in.
The two rooms were actually one large one, but at some time in the past they’d 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 to one side and peeping through the gap, I could see quite clearly into the room beyond without being seen myself. I peered through to see who it was.
But what I saw through the gap in the doors made me stop still and hold my breath with surprise. It wasn’t one teacher, it was two: Miss Sharpe, my games mistress, and Mr Pearson, who taught Art. Whatever they had in mind, it wasn’t checking up on me. Mr Pearson had put his arms around Miss Sharpe, and was kissing her pretty passionately. She was giving as good as she got, too; it was her gasps of pleasure that I’d heard.
………
Oh My God! As I watched, Mr Pearson un-tucked Miss Sharpe’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 I watched one of her hands slipped down to his bum, cupping one of the cheeks hard and pulling his groin hard against hers. Suddenly she paused and pushed him away - as they moved apart, I could see the bulge of Mr Pearson’s erect cock straining against his trousers. “Oh God, Penny,” he gasped, “I can’t help what I feel about you.” Miss Sharpe’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 I saw her hand brush over his erection, making him draw in his breath sharply with pleasure.
“You know how much I’ve wanted you,” he said, and began to undo the top button on her blouse. For a moment, she tried to stop him. “Oh, Jim,” she said, “what if someone comes?”
“Why should they?” he replied. “All the sixth form are on a cross-country run with Mary, and I’m 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 you said you had the Lower Fifth in half an hour; you can’t be away for long."
“Let’s not waste any more time then,” he said, and I watched as he undid another button, pulling her blouse open, revealing more of the lacy black bra which Miss Sharpe usually wore. For a games teacher, she was pretty hot – not like Mrs Kentish, who wore a baggy tracksuit and shouted a lot.
Mr Pearson had only joined the staff the previous term, as a temporary replacement for another teacher who had gone on maternity leave. Helen was in his Art class, and had told me that he was a good teacher. According to her, he did seem to take rather a lot of interest in the girls, although as far as she knew he’d never done anything “inappropriate” – i.e. touched them unnecessarily, or fucked them senseless behind the games hut. But he did seem to spend quite a long time leaning over them when they were drawing or painting and Helen swore blind he was looking down their blouses. One day, for a dare, she had taken her bra off before his lesson, and Mr Pearson had certainly spent a lot of time helping her with her brushwork. Helen had large boobs and very dark prominent nipples, so he must have had a lot to enjoy. She said that she could see his erection bulging in his trousers, although that may have been wishful thinking.
He was certainly seeing quite a lot of Miss Sharpe’s boobs now. The bra she was wearing barely covered the top of her firm breasts, which swelled over the top as Mr Pearson undid the last button and pulled her blouse open.
“Christ, Penny, I’ve waited a long time to see those tits,” he said, 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 tits to spill out into Mr Pearson’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.
………
I could hardly believe my eyes. And I was quite surprised at how aroused I was starting to feel myself. I pulled my skirt up around my waist and touched the front of my plain white panties – there was a wet patch there already. Was I that turned on at the sight of my teacher’s bare tits? Maybe it was the thought that I may be seeing more of Mr Pearson too. I rubbed at the front of my panties, feeling the wet patch getting larger, pushing my finger up against the bulge of my pussy. This was just making me so horny. I couldn’t take my eyes away.
………
Mr Pearson was kissing and licking at Miss Sharpe’s left breast, flicking his tongue over her nipple as she closed her eyes in pleasure. He sucked it into his mouth, making her moan under her breath, before transferring his attention to the right one. I could see his saliva glistening on the abandoned nipple. His right hand strayed down towards her groin, rubbing against her crotch through her skirt, causing it to bunch up so I could see the top of her thighs.
With a free hand Miss Sharpe pulled her skirt further up round her waist, revealing flimsy black lace panties that matched her bra. As Mr Pearson rubbed his hand over her mound, she moaned deeper, and gasped as his fingers pushed the material up between her pussy lips, rubbing against her sensitive clitoris. 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 I could hear the slurping sound as they thrust in and out of her juicy hole.
………
OMG! I’d undone the top couple of buttons on my own blouse now, pushed my hand inside and was squeezing at my own little titties, encased in my regulation white school bra. I pushed the little cup down off my left boob and grasped the hot flesh. Wow, my puffy little pink nipple was really hard! I tweaked it between my fingers, feeling the tingle through my whole body.
………
Meanwhile, Miss Sharpe was humping her crotch forward, meeting Mr Pearson’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 orgasmed with a shudder, almost knocking Mr Pearson over as she thrust against him.
Mr Pearson 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 Pearson 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 Sharpe smiled, as she dragged down his zip and pulled his cock out of his trousers. It looked enormous, grasped in her little hand. Miss Sharpe bent over and flicked her tongue over the purple tip, much as Mr Pearson 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.
………
I was shaking slightly. With one hand I pulled my white panties down around my knees, and pushed two fingers straight into my own soaking wet cunt. I was already so wet that they slid right in, and I could feel my juices running out down my inner thighs as I pumped my fingers in and out. I could smell my musky scent, and tried not to make too much noise with my fingers. I masturbated a lot at that age (I was nearly 17 when this happened), but I’d not felt this turned on for a long time.
………
“Oh Christ, Penny,” groaned Mr Pearson, 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 Sharpe kissed him again, letting him taste his own salty pre-cum. She rubbed his wet cock gently over her tits, stimulating her nipples with the purple tip. Another bit of pre-cum dribbled out, and she rubbed it over her rock-hard nips. 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, squeezing his cock and rolling it between them. Her cheeks were flushed, and I could see little glistening drops of perspiration on her tits as she used them to pump Mr Pearson’s stiff knob up and down.
By the sound of things, he seemed to be nearing his climax – and I was certainly nearing mine. Miss Sharpe released his 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 Pearson, “Oh Christ, oh God, yes.” Miss Sharpe 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 Pearson’s ejaculations subsided, she rubbed his cock over them, smearing the last remaining bubbles of spunk over the mounds.
………
All this time, I had been pumping myself harder, while rubbing at my clit with my other hand. As Mr Pearson ejaculated, I reached my climax too, and bent right over as a series of orgasms swept over me. It was like a chain reaction – one orgasm setting off the next – and if I could have shoved my whole hand up inside me, I would have. By the time I had stopped cumming, I could hardly stand upright for trembling. As I slipped my fingers out of my tight little vagina, I could see my juices drip off my palm, while there were more trickles of liquid running down my thigh towards my panties, still bunched up round my knees.
………
As I slowly came down to earth again, I watched as Miss Sharpe gave Mr Pearson’s wilting cock one last lick as she tucked it back into his trousers.
“Time’s getting on,” she said with a smile. “Your class will be wondering where you’ve got to if you don’t hurry up.” She stood up, her bare breasts still coated in streams of spunk, which was starting to run down the sides.
“Let me clean you up, Penny,” said Mr Pearson, 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, the white cum contrasting amazingly with the black bra. She dipped her finger into the biggest blob, and raised it to her nose; for a few seconds an expanding trail of spunk connecting finger and nipple. 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. “It’s lucky everyone thinks I went home with a migraine – I’m sure the kids couldn’t help but notice this mess.” She sniffed up the scent again as she re-buttoned her blouse to cover up the evidence.
“Fuck it, Penny, I love you,” said Mr Pearson, 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 Mary to cover for me again next Wednesday – she likes the chance to get out for a run. If you can get cover too, we can have longer next time.”
“Ron owes me a favour,” said Mr Pearson with a grin. “I covered for him when he was fucking the visiting Spanish teacher last term.”
“I didn’t know about that!” cried Miss Sharpe “I bet that was why she always looked a bit flushed last thing on a Thursday. The little slut!”
“Slut yourself,” smiled Mr Pearson, and squeezed her arse through her skirt. “See you tomorrow morning, then.” And with a final kiss, they slipped out of the door.
………
My pussy was soaking, and I pulled my panties right off, using them to wipe as much of my juices as possible off my hands and thighs, and did my best to dab my pussy dry as well. My lips, which weren’t usually prominent at all, were so puffy and pink!
I shoved my sticky panties down to the bottom of my bag, and flopped down in the chair, thinking about what I had just seen. Of course, if anyone found out what Miss Sharpe and Mr Pearson had been up to, they’d have been in big trouble. But what I really needed was an excuse to be here again next week. If I could keep up the twisted ankle limp until then, I was sure I could swing it. What I really needed was an excuse to get my boyfriend, Mick, down here as well. Then we could really have some fun!
