It was the end of another long, boring day of teaching 6th form students about a history most of them knew little about and cared even less.
That evening I was going to have to stay late as it was my turn on the duty roster to take detention.
Detention duty on a Friday evening was the worst part of what was, basically, a disheartening and thankless job. When I had started teaching 20 years earlier, I had been so full of zeal to pass on knowledge to young, open minds full of a zest for knowledge. I had wanted to change the world, instilling young minds with a curiosity and desire to improve their lot in life. What I quickly learnt was most of them just wanted to get drunk, get laid and get out of school.
I looked at the list of pupils due for detention that afternoon. There was one name on it and that was hers. This was unusual for two reasons. Firstly, hers was not a name I recognised, which meant that not only was she not my student, but she had not been in a detention I had taken before. Secondly, only one person in detention in the whole 6th Form was, in my experience, unheard of.
The final bell went to signify the end of the school day and I sat back in my chair, eyes closed and feeling exhausted, listening to the clamour of children rushing to leave for the weekend. After about five minutes there was a knock on the door.
"Come in," I called.
She entered the room and sat at a desk at the front of the classroom. This was also unusual as most pupils took the desks at the back of the room.
"Kylie, isn't it?" I asked.
"That's right sir," she replied. I thought I caught a flutter of her eyelids, but dismissed it as the fantasies of a tired, under sexed dirty old man.
"What are you in for?" I asked, trying to clear my head of the very inappropriate thoughts that were beginning to enter.
"Uniform violation, what do you think?" she asked, standing up and turning slowly, gently swaying her hips as she did so.
Her skirt was about 6 inches shorter than it should be and the heels on her shoes about 3 inches longer. Her blouse was tied together at her waist, rather than buttoned up as it should be, plunging to reveal an ample cleavage. As she turned away from me, she looked over her shoulder and winked. Now that was definitely not my imagination.
When she had her back to me completely, she leant forward over the desk behind, causing her skirt to ride up and reveal her lovely, long, bare legs in all their wonderful splendour and flashing a glimpse of a pair of black lacy knickers.
Taking in the sight of her glorious arse, and trying desperately to decide what to do next I said "Very nice, but not exactly regulation."
"Oh, I know," she replied, "But it's my birthday, 18 today, and I wanted to feel sexier, I am a woman, now, after all."
"Well, you look very attractive," I said, trying to sound as neutral as possible, "And many happy returns of the day. Now can you please sit back down."
She slowly turned back to face me, a mischievous grin playing over her full, red, kissable lips. She sauntered very slowly and very seductively, this was definitely not my imagination, to the front of the desk she had been sitting behind, lifted herself up onto it and crossed her legs very deliberately, giving me a full view of the lace knickers from the front.
I gasped involuntarily as I realised they were crotchless and I was looking straight at her young and juicy pussy.
"Please sit on your chair," I mumbled as I blushed and quickly looked away.
"Don't you like what you see, sir?" she asked, leaning forward and giving me a spectacular view of her cleavage.
"Oh God, you're not gay are you?" she asked, sitting up suddenly and putting her hand to her chest in mock indignation.
"No, Kylie, I'm not," I replied, grateful that the desk I was sat behind covered the obvious bulge in my pants. "Not that it's any of your business; now please return to your seat."
"I'm sorry, sir," she replied, "I didn't mean to embarrass you."
She got up off the desk and walked slowly around it to the chair, looking at me as she did so and wiggling her hips.
She sat back on the chair, again leaning forward and drawing my eyes towards her spectacular bosom.
"Get on with some work," I said, "You have A-levels in a couple of months, and you must have plenty of homework to do."
"Yes, sir," she replied, again winking at me and causing the colour to return to my cheeks.
I opened the newspaper I had on my desk and started to read it, trying as hard as possible not to look at her.
I heard her rummage through her bag and place something on her desk. Still looking at the newspaper, although totally unable to concentrate on any of the words on the page, I heard the rustle of paper from her direction and assumed she had settled down to some work.
Periodically I turned the page of the newspaper, deliberately not looking in her direction and still unable to take in anything that was printed on the pages, completely unable to make up my mind how to proceed; should I go with my baser instincts and give her what she so obviously wanted, or should I protect my position as a teacher in the school she attends?
As I was trying to work through this dilemma in my head, it slowly dawned on me that I hadn't heard any pages turn from her direction for a while.
Surreptitiously I looked up at her desk, but she wasn't there. I looked around the room frantically, and with no sign of her immediately assumed she had slipped out of the room unnoticed.
I was just about to jump up and run out of the room to see if I could find her when I felt her hand between my legs, reaching for the flies on my trousers.
I jumped up from my chair and looked beneath my desk to see her on all fours, naked apart from the shoes and looking up at me, a fiery look in her eyes.
"What the fuck are you doing?" I asked.
"I was about to give you a blow-job," she replied, looking up at me all doe-eyed.
"Well you can't," I said, indignantly.
"Why not?" she asked, looking directly at the bulge in my trouser, "We're both adults, I'm consenting, and you certainly are."
"That's not the point," I replied, "I'm a teacher at this school and you're a pupil, I'd get sacked if anyone found out."
"Fair enough," she said, crawling out from underneath the table. She stood up in front of me, smiled sweetly and stroked my still bulging cock through my trousers. Reluctantly I brushed her hand away, and she turned to walk back to her desk, her clothes, I could now see from a standing position, discarded behind it.
With her back to me, she leant over and slowly put her knickers back on, wiggling her arse extravagantly as she did so. She then pulled on her skirt, still wiggling those sweet cheeks at me. She picked up her blouse, turned around and put her arms through the sleeves, shaking her perfectly formed tits ever so softly as she did so.
She then tied the shirt across her midriff and covered her breasts, the erect nipples all too obvious through the flimsy material. She then picked up her shoes and, placing one foot on the desk at a time, giving me further flashes of her pussy as she did so, put them back on her feet.
She then turned to face me and asked "If we had met in a pub tonight without me coming to detention, would you have known I was a student at this school?"
