My Diary 10 - Mr Thomas & The Cane by Emily Harrison
I'd been back from visiting my Grandparents in Scotland just a few days. My summer break from University had just started and the weather was perfect, sunny, summery and warm.
Ok, so a little about me before I start.
My name is Emily Harrison; I've recently turned 19 and attend University.
To describe myself physically, I'm about 5ft 2 inches tall, I have a petite physique and I am pretty fit, as I cycle, run and swim rather a lot. I have fairly long mousey brown coloured hair, which I normally keep in a ponytail.
I wouldn't describe my body as anything special, as I say, I'm petite, so I don't have enormous titties or anything like that, in fact, mine are quite small. My nipples, and what I've more recently been told, are called puffy nipples.
Down below, I have just a little pubic hair, which I prefer, rather than being waxed or shaved, as most of my friends have gone for. I'm not a very hairy person anyway, so the very fine little tuft of light brown hair I have down there looks almost imperceptible anyway.
As a result of all of the above, I've been told I look a lot younger than my age, especially when I'm nude. But I really don't mind that.
People also say I'm pretty, which always embarrasses me a little, and so I tend to blush quite easily when hearing such comments. It's very flattering though.
To most of my family and friends, I'm seen as innocent, which to a certain extent is true. I'm a little shy, but I do have my naughty moments, and if you've read my earlier Diary entries, you'll know what I mean.
I discovered pretty early on, the joys of masturbation, with sexy fantasies most nights, transporting me to such wonderfully sexy and naughty places. And all in the comfort of my soft comfy bed too.
Oh, and another revelation for you. I have a thing about elderly men. And when I say elderly, I don't mean two or three years older than me, but men from about the age of around 40 upwards. They can be 40, 50, 60, 70, 80 or even in their nineties and thoughts of them, in naughty situations, get my body reacting, so much more than any boy my own age would. And since starting my 'adventures', elderly men have therefore been the ones I have naturally gravitated towards.
I've also realised, that some things get my body tingling and my vagina wet, which might not be considered 'normal'.
One of those is having my bottom spanked.
Not long after leaving school, just by chance, I bumped into one of my old teachers Mr Thomas, you might like to read how that all happened in My Diary 02. Mr Thomas is in his seventies and in a wheelchair. Anyway, one thing led to another, leading me now to visit him every Sunday, from where our friendship has evolved. So much so, that he now takes full advantage of my youth and innocence, and fulfils all his naughty fantasies with me. But I love it. I love being his innocent pupil.
As I said, he's in a wheelchair, which obviously restricts him in various ways. His mind and his hands are, however, very 'active' whenever I visit! And I do so love having my bare bum spanked by him.
Oh and as I'm being totally honest with you here, another little quirk about myself, and one that came upon me quite out of the blue. And that is, I rather enjoy being watched when I'm on the toilet.
If someone had suggested that, before this self-realisation, I would have imagined them losing their mind. But recent events seem to have activated something in me that produces those same tingles and wetness whenever someone watches me. And it doesn't matter if it's to poo or pee, I enjoy being watched doing both. Strange isn't it!
As I said, it isn't just anyone who I get into these situations with either; it's always those elderly men that I mentioned earlier. And if he wipes me after I've been, oh gosh, how wonderful!
Now one last thing I think I ought to tell you before I start, and that is, that I am still a virgin. It's not from the lack of opportunity; it's out of choice, my choice.
I guess in some ways I'm a little old-fashioned. I have this thing in my head about a 'future husband' being the first. Not that I'm thinking about marriage, in fact at the moment, that's not something that I'd want.
But still, being a virgin hasn't stopped me from having some naughty little adventures with some equally naughty elderly men. There is that line, however, and they all seem to be ok with that.
Anything else though, I'm willing to try.
Since starting my 'adventures' I've been lucky to have met and become good friends with some lovely people who are helping me to expand my 'horizons'. You might like to read my earlier Diary entries, in order, to give you a better understanding of who they are.
But one, as I say, is Mr Thomas, my former teacher. He's a very sweet man, and living just a short walk away from my flat to his bungalow, makes visiting him very easy. He likes me still being his 'pupil'; in fact, as we became 'closer', he even asked if I still had my school uniform. He likes me to wear it now and then, when I visit.
Ok, well I guess that's pretty much caught you up, so on to what happened next.
It was Saturday morning, laying in the bath with my eyes closed, enjoying the warm water engulfing me and the smell of the recently used shampoo and liquid soap still lingering.
Two pings from my mobile phone, which was on the floor next to the bath, alerted me to a new text message. I reached out for my towel, dried my hands, leaned down over the rim of the bath and picked my phone up.
Message from Mr Thomas ... 'Can you wear your school uniform tomorrow when you visit x'.
I had to smile, he was so sweet, but so naughty too.
I finished my bath, stepped out, dried most of myself then wrapped a towel around me, so I didn't drip all over the flat too much, and wandered into my bedroom.
I was just about to start towel drying my hair when my doorbell went. Isn't it always the way!
Looking through my front door peephole, it was Albert, my 85-year-old gay naturist neighbour.
As I opened the door, "Morning" he said, as he made his way inside, at the same time removing his robe "Just out the bath?"
"Nothing gets past you Sherlock Holmes, make us both a cup of tea will you, I need to get my hair dry".
Sitting on my bed I unwrapped myself from my towel and started to towel dry my hair with it.
Now, I should say that Albert introduced me to naturism, so we are now both comfortable being naked in each other's presence. Whenever he visits me, or I visit him, the moment we're inside, off come our robes.
Having long hair can be a pain at times, especially when trying to dry it.
"Two cups of steaming hot tea as requested" he announced as he re-entered a few minutes later, placing them both on my bedside table. "Here, let me help with that," he said as he took the towel from me and started to dry my hair.
With me sitting nude on the edge of my bed, and him standing nude in front of me gently drying my hair, his penis was right there in my eye line.
"I hadn't noticed that freckle before," I said, taking his penis in my hand and inspecting the little blemish.
Albert has a gloriously large penis, he's circumcised and he's waxed smooth regularly, which maybe makes his penis look even bigger. But it really is large.
"You really shouldn't grab me like that" he said giggling, "You might turn me straight".
Laughing together, I gave his penis a little squeeze and a few quick masturbatory rubs.
"Behave, you naughty girl". Laughing, I released him, so as not to distract him from his hair-drying duties.
"So what's the reason for the visit?"
"Well I thought now that you're on your summer holidays, you might fancy another short naturist break somewhere. I thought we could investigate a few possibilities online".
I was definitely keen, Albert had taken me to a naturist resort a little while back and I had absolutely loved it.
"You're on" I said, "Let me just get dry and we'll have a look".
With Albert now sitting on my bed drinking his tea and me now standing, finishing drying my body, we discussed possibilities.
"The Willows is a good one, I've been there before," said Albert, "it's set in quite a few acres of land, and they have a pool, a sauna and a hot tub. They also have a hard tennis court and really nice little cabins too".
"That sounds brilliant," I said, and as I finished brushing my hair and getting it into a ponytail, we wandered into the lounge to look it up on my iPad.
It did look good too, and pretty affordable as well. Two nights, full board, full use of all amenities, and it wasn't going to dig too deeply into our bank balances either.
"And if we share a cabin, it's even cheaper" said Albert pointing to the few options still available. "How come the cabin with twin beds is more expensive than the cabin with the double bed?"
"I've no idea, but I'm fine sleeping in the same bed as you as long as you don't snore all night," I said, digging him in the ribs.
"And you don't ravish me under the blankets, I'm not that kind of a boy" Albert countered, snickering away to himself.
So with the cabin picked, and the dates chosen, we clicked the relevant buttons, entered bank details and pressed to book. Three days over two nights, at The Willows.
After Albert left, I started to think about Mr Thomas and my impending visit to him tomorrow. He asked me to wear my school uniform, so into my wardrobe I went. I'd only been out of school just over a year and a half, so my uniform still fitted me perfectly.
Even though it was clean when it went into my wardrobe, I decided it wouldn't hurt to freshen it up in the washing machine.
So my white blouse in first, followed when that was done by my navy pleated skirt. My navy blazer didn't need to go to the dry cleaners or anything, it was fine, it still looked pristine, with our school badge and motto 'semper facere optimum' sitting proudly under the cross within a shield.
With everything washed, spin-dried and ironed, I hung it all on hangers ready for tomorrow.
The rest of my Saturday was pretty uneventful; I watched a late-career Clark Gable film snuggled up on my sofa, thinking how I could best work him into a fantasy that I would soon be enjoying, once I was under the covers in bed.
Sunday morning arrived, sunny and warm and so early too. It was a beautiful day. The birds were twittering, my hot water pump was humming away and the kettle for my tea was working up to a boil. The sounds of Sunday morning chez Harrison.
I had my bath, washed my hair, dried my body, moisturised and then started to dress in the clothes I would be wearing to visit Mr Thomas.
First, knickers. White, quite tiny, the same size and design as the ones I wore when I was sat at my desk looking longingly at Mr Balfour, our 60-something biology teacher. Whenever he said the word penis, or vagina, my heart used to race and I'm sure my knickers got a little wetter.
I love wearing little white knickers; they always make me feel so pure and virginal.
My little white bra next. I'm not really into bras, and for the size of my titties, I don't need to wear one, but that's what I wore in school, sooo!
Sitting on the edge of my bed, I pulled on my long white, knee-length socks.
My white school blouse was next, freshly laundered and crisply ironed.
Next on was my navy pleated skirt. Me and my mates always left home in the morning with it at its regular length, but as soon as we were in school, we'd be into the toilets and folding the waistband over to shorten it to mid-thigh.
Tie next. Navy. I always hated wearing the tie and would loosen it a little whenever I got the opportunity.
Lastly, my blazer and then my black school shoes.
Standing in front of the full-length mirror in my bedroom, brought back memories. Not all good I must say, school wasn't all fun, being rather shy as I was, and still am, I was always happy at 3.30 pm each day when the buzzer buzzed over the tannoy system at the end of the day, announcing home time.
But this was much more fun.
