What was next? I found out.

It was my headmaster from Redruth School.

“Mr Woodley!” I exclaimed, rather taken aback, this was a surprise.

“Andrea Martin, well, I see you have been a very naughty girl,” he continued barely containing a smile. “A very naughty girl indeed.”

I watched his eyes moving all over my body, wet with pussy juice and perspiration, and I could see the bulge in his trousers growing.

“You’re my surprise?” I started.

“My surprise, Sir!” he corrected.

“Yes, Sir,” I replied, obediently.

“I am, indeed, your surprise, Andrea, and I’m very keen to give you your belated birthday present.”

He approached the bed, his eyes drinking in my body; I wondered how long he had imagined seeing me naked, and more importantly, available.

He focused on my lower torso, putting out a surprisingly tentative hand, he stroked my Venus mound, feeling the dampness of my flesh, tracing fingers up to my belly button, and moving further upwards to my flat breasts. Touching my left nipple, hard and erect, then pinching it gently, before moving across my chest to the other, giving it the same treatment as the left.

He then placed his other hand more confidently down onto my pubic mound, and without ceremony pushed it between my legs, I had kept them closed, as best I could, by bringing my knees together, this made him force his hand between them, which he did.

“Be good, Andrea,” he commanded, with a smile, he was enjoying my feigned reluctance, I wanted his fingers inside me, and everything else, I felt so very sexy.

“Oh, Sir,” I gasped, playing innocent, “Oh, no, Sir, oh, please, Sir!” As he wormed his fingers against my pussy, passing over my hard clit, and opening the flowering folds of my wet labia, feeling the heat, and yielding tightness of my soaking sex.

With his thumb resting on my camel toe, and two fingers inside me, the ring finger pressing further down, against my wet underparts, he pushed the ones inside me upwards, pinching me between them and his thumb, and began to move them in and out of me; out to my entrance, back into my tunnel, making my pussy slurp, loudly.

As he did this, he played with my right nipple, rubbing, and pinching it between forefinger and thumb. Licking his lips and concentrating on the feel of me.

I looked into his eyes, and we held our gaze, I could see how much he wanted me, but wanting to slow time and relish the moments, he must have fantasised about doing this to me. The idea made me wetter, and his fingers fell out of me, he had to press them back in, adding the ring finger to his invading force, and I felt the ring on it, smooth and hard, as it slid inside.

“You are very wet, Andrea, do you like my fingers in you?” he questioned.

“Mm, yes Mr Woodley, Sir, they feel nice, but they feel big inside me,” I replied, dreamily.

It occurred to me then, I may not have even been one of those he had fantasied about, I was hardly the most advanced, physically, flat chested, thin, not that pretty, for all I knew he had already had a whole school-full of pupils, in fact it was quite likely, I was simply the latest conquest. The thought made me wetter still; my concentration reverted to the present, his fingers in me, and then the next thing, his cock entering me, him having me, in front of everyone.

“Good girl, Andrea,” he said, “you are perfectly wet. Do you think you are ready to please me?”

“Please Sir, do you want to be inside me, Sir?” I asked, “I want to be good, but I’m scared.” I was not sure if I was to be a virgin, but played as virginal as I could, given the position he had ‘found’ me in, I could in theory, have only experienced sex with other girls before, as far as he was concerned, he could be my first man.

Chrissie was behind him, and I saw her reach around and undo his trousers, they fell to the floor, and he stepped out of them. Chrissie knelt behind and pulled down his underpants, helping by taking his dick in hand and unhooking the pants from the bulb, it stood to attention, as he unbuttoned and removed his shirt.

He was a nice size, and I felt very horny, knowing I was to be fucked by a real cock, and in front of everyone, that part was most arousing, I certainly had an exhibitionist nature.

Chrissie had removed his socks, so he was naked.

I assumed he would mount me as I lay cuffed to the bed, legs open; I was wrong.

Helen undid my shackles from the bed frame, leaving the cuffs on my wrists, and helped me from the bed. Sir took my place and lay down, feeling the warm, wet patch I had left.

Chrissie knelt by the bed and took him in hand, and proceeded to gently masturbate him, slipping him into her mouth a short way, licking his bulb, tasting his pre-cum, which was oozing from the end.

When she decided he was ready for me she withdrew, and, as Helen held my hand to steady me, I demurely mounted the bed, straddling Sir.

I took him in hand, watching his face as I guided him to my entrance, the other half of the cuff around my wrist rested on his tummy as I went to work, pressing his bulb to my pussy. His breathing, heavy, gazing at me, licking his dry lips as I opened myself with two fingers of my other hand, and, lowering myself onto him, shifting my hips slightly forward to engage my sex securely with his, I screwed my hips as he entered me.

Hardly the actions of a virgin I know, but when it comes to it, I wanted him deep inside me, fantasy can be a movable feast.

I lowered myself carefully onto him, taking my hand away from the shaft of his stiff tool as he went further inside until he was almost fully in, then I raised my hips, slipping a hand between us to feel his cock withdrawing, I love to do that, to feel my labia, parted around a guys girth as he invades me.

“Oh, Andrea,” he groaned, “you feel so tight.”

“Sir, you are so big inside me, I’m sure I couldn’t take any bigger. Oh, Mr Woodley, Sir, you’re filling me, and so hard, oh, uh, mmph,” I groaned, as he entered me fully. He was filling me, he was really hard, it was really nice, I was not lying but played the inexperienced 16-year-old as best I could.

He took hold of my hips. I allowed myself to be guided, lifted and then lowered onto him at the speed he wanted. He took time, savouring the feeling of his cock penetrating me, and its friction against my enveloping tunnel wall.

Then Helen took my wrists, pulling my right hand, which was feeling the union of our bodies, from between my legs, and tugged them behind me, cuffing them to the corresponding ankle. I was secured again.

Sir continued to guide my movement, but used less and less pressure, until he released his grip totally, only touching the top of my hipbone at my waist with fingertips, and I continued to ride him with just the merest command from his touch. Far from an inexperienced virgin, my pretence had evaporated with the screwing I was receiving.

The room was quiet as I rode him, with everyone watching us.

I looked about me, seeing the girls all taking in the scene, hearing the sound of our fucking, the slurp of my wet pussy as I lifted my hips at his command, withdrawing him, the tight fit creating suction, like a piston in a cylinder, our breathing, mine, heavy, and truncated in gasps, as I concentrated on pleasing Mr Woodley.

“Oh, good girl,” he breathed, “good, good, girl.”

On the next lowering down, taking his length into me I stopped and used my inner muscles to raise and lower my tunnel, with barely perceptible outside movement, a slight rise, and fall, of my Venus mound, and a rock of my hips. All the work being done internally by my pelvic floor, Pompoir, I had practiced by myself for ages, with various toys, finding one very good use for bananas, and making a proper banana split out of myself countless times, and I enjoyed consuming the tool after use.

I felt his guiding becoming more forceful, as he wanted more, so changed my riding back to a more conventional lifting and lowering of my torso to his orchestration. I watched his eyes, looking at the coupling of our sex, seeing his tool moving into, then out of me, then lifting his gaze up my body, my waist, tummy, little titties, with rock-hard nipples. Watching me swallow as I concentrated, continuing up to my face, my lips parted, tongue pressed against my upper teeth and top lip; then meeting my eyes.

I looked away, being coy.

“No, Andrea,” he commanded, “look at me, as I fuck you to climax.”

He took a firmer hold and lifted me more forcefully. I could not help him much as my wrists were secured by the cuffs. Raising myself by tightening the muscles in the backs of my thighs to lift my hips was all I could do, but he easily lifted my light weight.

He grunted as he pulled me down, gravity not being sufficient for his needs, our bodies smacked together, he lifted me again, high, I feared he would come out of me, I could not stop it from happening, such was the wetness of my sex, and my hands secured. His crotch was sticky with our juice, we squelched with each movement.

Again, he pulled me onto him, the smack of our bodies connecting.

“Ugh, And-rea,” he gasped, lifting me again, frantically, “I’m cumming!” he groaned as he pulled me down, hard, onto him.

I felt his climax, his cum rushing up his weapon, to fire deep into my cunnie, his cock throbbed inside me as he creamed, pulsing spurts, planting his seed into me.

“Oh Sir, oh, Mr Woodley!” I murmured, as I continued to ride him. I was close to cumming, but I could not touch myself, so writhed to find a point of contact that stimulated one, any, of my erogenous zones, to make it happen, getting close, but without enough success.

“Sir, rub me, please,” I pleaded, hoping he would frig my clit, just a few rubs would bring me off, “just…” I groaned.

“No, Andrea,” he returned, “I don’t want you cumming, yet. As you were so good I want you kept randy, ready for me to have another turn on you; I’m going to fuck you again Miss Martin, presently.”

“Oh, Sir,” was all I could mutter, edged to blazes.

He held me tightly, preventing much movement, I was desperate to bring myself off but knew no one would assist me, the rest were either watching us or giving pleasure to one another, I could hear groans of sexual pleasure and looked to see Nicky on the bed next to ours, with Alice on top of her, riding her with the strap-on dildo, Nicky’s legs wrapped around the larger girls waist as they rocked together.

Another three, Debs, Kirsty, and one of the others, I had yet to discover the name of, were giving someone, Chrissie from what I could see of her, similar treatment to that I had received before Mr Woodley had appeared; one sitting on her face, the other, straddling her torso, fucking her with the skipping rope handle, with one of the others kneeling between Chrissie’s legs, keeping them wide apart, while she rubbed both Chrissie’s and Kirsty’s pussies while another fingered her. I watched as they kissed, Chrissie bucking under Kirsty climaxing from the screwing she was receiving.

Watching this wasn’t helping my, rather desperate, desire to cream my pussy.

Sir by now had begun to soften inside me. He looked at Helen and nodded, she unlocked my cuffs and, taking my right wrist, and supporting me, allowing me to sit upright. Sir reached down and held the shaft of his cock as I raised my hips, and we disengaged.

Cum flowed down my legs. He had certainly been ready to screw me.

I was unable to wipe myself or do anything that could vaguely risk me bringing myself off, so I stood there, rivulets of viscous spunk tracing down my thighs, now running as far as the insides of my knees.

Mr Woodley got off the bed, his cock softening, his crotch soaked with his cum and my cream. I was now able to sit on the edge of the mattress, arms down, with wrists held at my ankles, kept firmly in check by Helen, there was no chance of a quick, releasing frig for me.

I sat there watching Nicky being banged to delirious orgasm by Alice. Nicky had one of Alice’s nipples in her mouth, the other girl being somewhat taller, and Alice had rode her pelvis up, onto Nicky’s hips, which were by now pointing upwards, almost vertically, so the dildo was pushing down into Nicky, whose cries with each thrust, were muffled by the titty pressed in her mouth.

I ached to cum.

Helen looked at me as I watched Nicky and Alice, I must have looked so aroused.

“You’re desperate to cum off, aren’t you,” a statement, rather than a question.

“Can you not just give me a rub, I’m so close,” I whispered to her.

“No-can-do, I’m afraid. Teen Slut must be punished, for being so bad,” she retorted, “and so many times,” she added with a grin.

“Sir will be ages before he can have me again,” I pleaded.

“You’ll just have to be patient then,” Helen replied.

No help there.

Several other girls had paired, or multiplied, up, and were pleasuring one another, Helen was probably keen to get some action too.

“Would you like me to eat you, Helen?” I asked.

Helen looked at me sideways. She had figured out my idea, if I knelt on the floor, giving her cunnilingus, I could sit on my heel, and rub myself off, it would literally take one rub.

“Yes, you can eat me, but on your back, on the bed, I wanna keep you on the boil.”

She pulled me down, my knees pulled up by the shackles connecting wrists to ankles, she straddled my face and pressed her wet sex to my mouth. Her hands reached down, pushing my knees apart. I felt the cool air around my wet cunnie, Sir’s cum and my pussy juice drying on my skin, the evaporation cooled me faster.

I stuck my tongue between Helen’s labia and sucked the lips, she moved backward, guiding her clit to my mouth, I sucked it, she squirmed, I sucked more forcefully, and she writhed, pressing herself harder against me, and rocking.

I felt her hands sliding down from my knees to my inner thighs, further, to the meeting of thigh and crotch, to the edges of my outer labia; I prayed she would touch me up without thinking, but she didn’t, she just pushed my legs further apart, I think she was examining my pussy, watching it as I licked hers out, seeing it tremble and pulse with desire.

Licking her, however, was bringing me closer to orgasm, as I love to feel a girl cum on my face, or anywhere on my body, actually; her pleasure increases mine and makes me cum just by experiencing her pleasure, she does not have to reciprocate in any way.

Helen pressed down on my mouth as she came, the gush of her climax, her taste, and the wetness she exuded, made me cum too, I was so edged anyway that the slightest extra arousal was likely to bring me off, and I bucked under her with the delicious pumping peaks that ripped through me.

“Fuck, Teen Slut,” I heard her exclaim, “you’ve creamed yourself!”

She climbed off me, “you little whore, you spoilt my fun,” she continued, looking around at those who were watching.

I licked my lips, tasting her juice on them, “sorry,” was all I could say, but I wasn’t really.

By now Mr Woodley was recovering his libido, having a lesbian orgy going on around him had helped speed this up. On several beds were groups of girls, pleasuring one another, the sounds and scent of female delight and orgasm filled the room.

Now I had cum I wanted him inside again, I knew I would come off as soon as he entered me, the gorgeous feel of a man invading my tunnel was what I craved now, I did not care how he did me, I just wanted to be screwed.

It was decided I should be taken from the back, Helen unlocked my wrists, and I was taken over to the bed opposite that was called into use, as a couple of girls heaped another mattress onto it. I was then pushed to the foot end, and my ankles locked loosely to the legs of the bed.

Unceremoniously, I was pushed forward, bent at ninety degrees at the waist, so my torso was flat on the bed, face down; the height of the two deep mattresses meant my toes could now only just touch the floor. My wrists were taken and pulled down vertically, cuffs produced again, and I was shackled under the sprung bed frame. I was thoroughly restrained.

I could move my head to left or right, but my arms were pulled tightly down, compressing the mattresses, I could not move my arms forward or back, but only hold onto the edges of the bed frame. My hips were a little higher now, as the mattresses were not compressed at the foot end, as my bottom was raised my toes could no longer touch the ground. My pussy was at the ideal height for fucking.

I could not see, only hear, and feel, what was going on behind me. Hands, female and male worked around my back, waist, and then lower; I felt female fingers delve between my bottom cheeks, sliding to the first, moist hole they encountered, stopping there to ease a finger a little way into the opening. A male hand was moving swiftly up from the back of my right knee, up my thigh, to my sex.

Fingers pressed into my opening, pulling out the juice and cum inside and rubbing around my crotch.

Then I felt the unmistakable wet knob of Mr Woodley, guided to my entrance, the parting of my soaking labia, the pressing against me, adjustment of position, to lodge at the right angle to enter me, the resistance at first, as his wide bulb overcame my vestibule, to push deeper, deeper into me, my tunnel expanding to take him.

He held my hips, as he pressed further inside, then pulled back a little, to push deeper again; I felt his pubic hair flatten between us as he pushed fully into me.

From the moment he invaded me I had started to cum, the feel of his strength and force, controlled, as he took me, the friction against my inner erogenous zones, his hands gripping my hips, my body trapped and squashed tightly between him and the mattress. My cervix dipped rapidly, he must have felt the action against the top of his weapon, as he pulled out, to press again inside, harder this time, to fill my climaxing cunt, I heard the squelch and his groan.

“Oh Andrea, Miss Martin, you bad girl,” he uttered, “so tight, so wet, so…”

“Ogh, Sir,” I groaned back, “you’re filling me, please Sir,” knowing this would encourage him.

It did, his fucking became more forceful, and animal. He let go of my hips and I guessed he grabbed the top of the bed frame, so I was rocked, and crushed between him and the mattress each time he thrust fully inside, rocking the bed as he pulled it, and me, against himself, which bashed against the wall at the head end when he released it. I uttered little ‘uffs’ with each thrust, masked by the clunk of the bed head hitting the wall.

Helen then appeared on the left of the bed, I could just see her as I peered over the top of my left arm. She mounted the bed, sat astride me, facing Sir, and proceeded to kneed my bottom cheeks, I could hear they were kissing and could feel her wet cunnie rubbing up and down my lower back.

Her hands moved down, between my legs, and fingers parted to stroke my labia, stretched around Sir’s tool, feeling the sodden mess of my cunt. She raised herself then, and I felt her hand slide between my back and her crotch and felt her hand’s movements as she masturbated, she rocked as she pleasured herself.

I was cumming profusely, this was heaven, my toes dangled a mere inch or two from the floor, but it felt like I was floating, my knees and thighs knocked against the metal bed frame my ankles were locked too with each thrust, Helen’s weight pushing me down, squashed into the mattress, as she bounced and squirmed on top of me, but I didn’t feel any of it, just the creamy orgasmic wave.

He lasted an age inside me, and was so hard, like a bar of hot metal, covered by a soft, slippery, velvety skin.

I heard Helen and Sir talking, she leaned forward, kissing him I assumed, and used both hands on herself, I felt her knuckles bashing my kidneys and she finger fucked herself rapidly, her jerking became more frenzied as she closed in on her cum, bouncing heavily on top of me, and uttering cries of delight, and that delicious tension, that hurts, as you climb up to the top of the mountain, then she gasped, falling over the edge.

She fell back so she lay on top of me, her bum on top of mine, her weight pressing me into the mattress. Mr Woodley must have been getting a superb view of her cunnie as her legs were wide open, and her fingers still deep in herself, opening her lips wide, I imagined, to provide him with a spectacle of her sex.

Watching Helen finger herself to climax, sitting astride, then lying on top of me, who he was buried deeply inside, did it for Mr. Woodley as he slowed the pace, I was still in my plateau of orgasm, peaking, dipping, peaking, beautiful, and all-encompassing; his erection, his screwing, reaming me, this animal instinct to procreate, filling my senses, and controlling my being.

“I’m close, Andrea,” he gasped, I could feel it, his bulb was massive, jammed in me, the wetness stopping it from sticking like a seized piston.

He moved his grip back to my hips and held them tighter, as he almost pulled me from my shackles, trying to get as much inside me as he could. I felt Helen jerk above me, nearly falling off, she had to grab the sides of the mattress to stop herself.

“Oh God, girls,” he groaned, addressing both of us.

And then the stream, as he pumped his love into me for a second time, much less this time, spent from his first cum inside me, but his orgasm was just as forceful; he let out a cry as his cum overwhelmed him.

I had been unable to help his pleasure during our fuck, as I had been climaxing all through it, each thrust had hit my spot deliciously and I had no control over my pelvic floor, or any other part of me, and had just enjoyed the ride, or, more accurately, enjoyed being ridden.

Sir was thoroughly spent now, his tool idle, resting inside me, still massive and filling my hole, but inert aside from a little pulsing. We stayed locked together for a short time; I could not bear down to push him out, my cunt was numb.

Helen climbed off me and came down to my level, kissing my shoulder she whispered.

“You took every sperm out of him, Teen Slut.”

Slipping fingers into my mouth, she continued in a low voice, “Taste me, Andrea.”

I did taste her, sucking her fingers, cleaning them of her beautifully creamy mess. I could feel too the wet patch cooling, and becoming sticky, on my back, and around my waist, from her pussy juice, and her perspiration, mixed with my own.

“Won-der-ful,” I moaned.