I've been editing some of my older stories and scanning old photos over the last year; the images, in particular, have brought back many pleasant memories. It has also made me realise that I have jumped around with my true stories and that readers must be confused about how events tie in. So I'll start this story by quickly putting a few years in order.
In 1980, my first marriage was falling apart, and blaming the breakdown on my running my own building business and working long hours, I decided to change professions and become a schoolteacher. My wife was working, I had some money in a bottom drawer from cash jobs, and we had enough in the bank to cover the mortgage, etc. So although I was going to take a considerable drop in salary, I applied for a position at Christchurch Teachers' Training College.
It was the best thing I ever did; getting paid to sit around, learn, read, and play sports. So different from working out in the cold, rain and hammering nails all day. But I quickly found that my marriage breakdown had nothing to do with my working long hours. Being at home more just exacerbated all my wife and my problems.
There are a couple of good sexy stories from my year at Teachers' College that I will try and find the time to write about sometime. But at the end of that year, I graduated with honours. And as my marriage was on the rocks, I applied for teaching positions nationwide and was lucky enough to land a teaching position at Gisborne Boys' High. I wanted to return to Auckland, but so did every other teacher, it seemed, so it was nigh on impossible to get teaching positions there. Gisborne being halfway between Christchurch and Auckland, seemed a good stepping stone. I went nuts chasing every woman who gave me more than a sideways glance that year. Read my story 'Out Of The Blue', which will give you an idea of what I got up to in Gisborne.
The position at Gisborne Boys replaced a guy who had taken one year off to travel to England. When I found he was definitely returning at the end of the year, I spent a couple of months applying for every teaching job I could find in Auckland and finally landed a job at Hillary College in Otara. It was one of the poorer suburbs in Auckland. A place that very few people wanted to teach, as it often made the news for burglaries and violence.
I loved teaching at Hillary; the kids were predominantly Maori or Pacific Islanders, with a small smattering of Asian and Pakeha (White) kids. Again, if I ever get around to it, there are some interesting sexual escapades worth writing about from my year teaching there.
Towards the end of my second year at Hillary College, I started applying for teaching positions again. I was living with my parents on the North Shore, and the hours of travel each day to Otara were getting me down. Also, I had met a wonderful lady I intended to marry and needed to rent a place for us to live. Otara was not a place I wanted to live with my new wife. Luckily I picked up a good teaching job in a school in the eastern suburbs of Auckland, and being one of the more affluent areas, it offered much better accommodation choices.
My new position was again as a technical teacher (Woodwork, Engineering and Technical Drawing), but I also had a third form Science class to teach. I sat with all the guys from the technical department for the first week at morning tea and lunchtime. But I soon tired of the rugby, racing and beer talk and, in the second week, moved to sit by a woman I had met in the science department meetings.
Her name was Dani, and she sat with a group of women, which was much more to my liking, although I should point out that I did not move tables hoping to score. As I knew very well, it is not good to fuck around with workmates. The ladies quickly accepted me and enjoyed having a male at their table to add a different perspective to their conversations. I looked forward to morning tea and lunch after that with the eight regulars who sat together. They were all attractive and intelligent women, and there was always some exciting gossip and scandal to disassemble.
Dani and I became very close over that first year. She helped me prepare lessons appropriate for the science syllabus. Dani dated numerous boyfriends those first couple of years, and our morning discussions often revolved around the plus and minus of her previous night's partner and how good the sex had been. She was looking for a husband, and finally, in my third year at the school, she latched onto a fellow teacher that had just joined the staff. He was ten years younger than Dani, but they got on well and were married within a year. Also, in that third year, Dani and I became fourth-form Deans and moved through with the same year group until I left teaching six years later. We have remained close friends to this day.
In the first couple of weeks, I learned much about each woman around the table. The average age would have been around thirty-four, With Mrs Adams being the youngest, at twenty-four, and Mrs Chester being fifty.
Anne (Adams) taught French, was newly married, and had a massive set of jugs on her. I got into trouble on more than one occasion with the other ladies saying things like - you'll get no sense out of Dave this morning; he's ogling Anne's tits again.
The oldest in the group, Mrs Chester, was a handsome woman who taught English and a class of German. Her first name was Margaret, but whereas the rest of the group were on a first-name basis, no one ever called Mrs Chester by her first name. She was married to an engineer who was seldom at home. He worked in Asia on an airport extension and was usually away for three months. She was British, spoke with a posh accent, and never talked much about herself. But I did know she had two children at Auckland University. When conversations regarding sex came up, which happened frequently, she went quiet and acted modestly. She always projected an image of being the perfect upper-class lady, very prim and proper.
Another older woman was Mrs Barber. She was forty-five, the school career adviser, and taught some history. She was also in a special needs group I was roped into doing in my free periods. We pulled at-risk children from their regular classes and, alongside the school's counsellor, taught them skills to counter the issues they were having. Four women were in this special needs group, plus the counsellor and I. I was the only male. It was incredibly gratifying attempting to improve kids' lives, but also very intense and tiring most days. Coping with anger issues and sexual abuse wore you down.
Mrs Barber was the plainest of the staffroom group and the most conservative, even more so than Mrs Chester. I mentioned the special needs group, as at the end of the year, we all had a teacher-only day at her house. The counsellor had a group session with the five of us, after which we had a lovely lunch and retired to Mrs Barbers' basement to soak in her spa pool. To everyone's astonishment, the conservative Mrs Barber stripped naked and climbed into the pool. She had a tremendous set of tits. They hardly sagged at all. The other four women quickly followed suit, meaning I had to drop my gear and join them. No one batted an eyelid. We sat around in the spa pool discussing our year.
Back to the group, Dani always sat next to her best friend, Linda, who taught some science but primarily maths. Linda was the only one of the ladies that gave me hints that she was available. She was tall and thin, and I have to admit, I did think more than once about trying it on with her, but as I said, you don't play around with your workmates, and I purposefully didn't give her the slightest hint that I was interested. She was married, but it was not happy, and she seldom discussed her husband.
The prettiest woman in the group was Mrs Henley (Sue). She taught English and was like a Barbie doll, with perfect peroxide blond hair in a bob cut, clothes always immaculate and walked like she was on a catwalk. I know most of the male teachers had the hots for her. Sue and her husband were trying for a baby and not having much luck. Towards the end of my second year, she announced one day that she and her husband had been to get tested and that hubby had a low sperm count.
The group were all full of advice, most of it centring around her having to have a lot more sex. I was incredibly impressed to hear her say that they had been doing it morning and night in her fertile week for over a year and plenty of other times in the month. Mrs Chester stunned me by saying; well, the best solution would be to bonk Dave a few times. He has three kids already, so you know he doesn't fire blanks. I was saved major embarrassment by Dani snapping back; Dave wouldn't be much cop, as he's been snipped already.
Another lady at our table was Mrs Harrison (Jill), a geography teacher. I quite fancied her, as she had admitted to going absolutely wild when her first marriage had failed and that she had slept with every man she could lay her hands on. She was dating a mad cyclist who rode about three hundred K's each week. She frequently complained that he was not giving her enough attention and needed a friend with benefits to get the sex she wanted. Unfortunately, or probably fortunately, none of the ladies offered my services. I would have blushed red with embarrassment, as you did when something said is a little too close to the truth.
Finally, there was Mrs Walker-Jones, the school counsellor. She was about forty, the same age as me. She was attractive and had the best tits of all the ladies in the spa pool that day. I was always a little nervous around her, thinking she could suss out all the dirty thoughts I often had when sitting with the group.
Why am I telling you all this? I'm trying to set the scene for the incredible shenanigans in my fourth year of teaching at the school. You won't believe it, but that's okay. Like many of the unexpected events I've partaken in or been witness to, I hardly believe it happened myself.
At the start of every year, in the second or third week, the third form would be taken away for an inauguration camp once they were settled in. This year it was being held at the Hunua Falls Camp, only an hour's drive from our school. There were separate dormitories for girls and boys, but the teachers shared a dormitory.
Five ladies from my lunch group (Dani, Linda, Anne Adams, Sue Henley and Mrs Chester) were going, plus another seven staff. There would also be some parents driving in each day to help.
Over the summer holidays, Dani, Anne, and Linda did a massage course together. On the second night of the camp, they offered free massages for everyone in our dormitory, as they needed the practice. It was after we had the kids locked down. The massages did not happen the first night, as the kids were so excited we didn't get them to sleep until after midnight.
Of the dozen staff, only two copped out of having a massage, Mrs Chester wouldn't have a bar of it and also one of the older male teachers who was the Third Form Dean. Everyone else was very keen, and by the end of the night, Dani's boyfriend and I were confident enough to massage Dani and Linda. And after doing Linda, I got to do Sue Henley (Barbie doll), who wanted seconds. I couldn't believe my luck. The other guys in the dorm looked green with envy as she came out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her and only her panties under the towel. Needless to say, I was feeling a bit uncomfortable under my shorts, but no one noticed, and I slept very well after it.
