Author's Note: This is the first part of the first part of a story based around the love and sex lives of students at an elite Sixth Form College somewhere in England.
The story, of which this is a part, contains a multitude of sexual acts, including, but not limited to: Incest, Non-Consent, Blackmail, Bisex, Anal, FDom, MDom, Lesbian, Group Sex, Pegging. If any of these are not to your taste I suggest not reading any further.
There are absolutely no characters under the age of 18. All sexual acts take place between adults over the age of 18 years.
Comments and constructive criticism welcome.
Enjoy!
Jack and Phoebe 1
The alarm clock made a telltale click approximately one second before the radio came on to wake you in the morning, a click which Jack Sullivan's brain had somehow picked up on and as a result he always seemed to be awake just as...
"Pip Pip Pip, Good morning, it is seven am on Monday the 18th of September, and you're listening to BBC Radio Four, the headlines today are."
Jack struck the off button with enough force to cause the little plastic box to register a complaint in the way that cheap plastic boxes tend to do and then he rolled over onto his back. He lay there for a moment, wide awake but warm and content, knowing that for the next few minutes nothing could spoil his day, a condition that would change the second his feet touched the floor beside his bed. He sighed, stretched his arms out above his head, and then rolled himself out of bed and, pausing only to grab his towel and dressing gown, headed for the bathroom and began his early morning routine. Fifteen minutes later, he returned to his room pulled a fresh white shirt, lovingly ironed by his mum, from his wardrobe, put it on along with the rest of his school uniform and bounced down the stairs and into the kitchen.
His mother, a well-proportioned woman in her mid-forties with blonde hair like Jack's, dressed in her favourite tatty, greying, terry cloth dressing gown was standing with her back to him drinking tea, staring out of the window and alternating between tutting and shaking her head.
"Those bloody squirrels have dug up every single one of my bulbs," she said through gritted teeth as she turned to face Jack.
"And good morning to you too, mum," Jack said with a smirk.
"Oh, good morning Love," she replied, "I'm just so annoyed. I was looking forward to seeing those bloom in the spring."
Jack's twin sister, Maggie, was sitting at the table eating some toast and drinking her tea.
"I'll help you replant the bulbs this weekend, Mum," Maggie said sympathetically.
"That's kind of you, dear, maybe we could go together to the garden centre and pick out the replacements on Friday after school." replied their mother.
Jack downed a glass of orange juice and grabbed a couple of slices of hot toast, slathered them with butter and an overly generous spread of Marmite and headed toward the front door, bag on shoulder, the tails of his navy blazer trailing in his wake.
"Have a good day Jack!" his mum shouted after him,"he always leaves in such a hurry."
"He's in love," replied Maggie with a cheeky grin and a fluttering of her long eyelashes.
Jack was lucky, he arrived at the bus stop just as a bus was opening its doors. He hopped on and found a seat, put in his headphones and zoned out for the fifteen minute journey. It was just past quarter to eight when he arrived at the gate of a nice detached house on a quiet street lined by similar houses with new, high-end cars on their drives. As he pushed on the gate the front door opened and an attractive, blonde girl, wearing the same school's uniform as Jack, stood in the doorway, smiling at him. She waved her hand in a quick beckoning fashion.
"Quick, come inside before Mrs Bouchet, the nosey bat, sees you!" she implored in a whisper.
Jack hurried through the door which the girl quietly shut behind him.
Without missing a beat, the girl launched herself at Jack, attacking his lips with hers like she was possessed. Her tongue pushed into his mouth as her hand traced a rapid path from his chest, down to his crotch and fumbled with the zip on his trousers.
"Jesus, Phebes!" Jack exclaimed, trying to keep his voice at the level of a whisper, "your family!"
"They've all left already," replied Phoebe Harrington, giving him a wink and licking her lips as she sank to her knees in front of him.
Jack felt her tug his zip down, reach into his boxers and extract his rapidly hardening member. He looked down just as Phoebe took the head into her soft, warm mouth, her tongue tracing circles and teasing the ridge. Jack let out a sigh, and grabbed hold of her ponytail as his head lolled back. Phoebe took more and more of him into her mouth, her tongue working hard on every part of him she could reach. She placed her hands on his butt, and pulled him closer, taking as much of him as she could, and then when she reached her limit, she started to pull back. One of her hands switched to his shaft and she moved it in opposition to her head.
"Oh fuck! I'm going to," he blurted out, "cum!"
Phoebe pushed her mouth down hard one last time before retreating and leaving just the head as Jack erupted. She kept her lips sealed to him as he bucked his hips and climbed up on his toes. When he finished, she let go of him and he took a few steps backwards, trousers and boxers round his ankles and sank down onto the carpeted stairs. He leaned back and tried to catch his breath.
"Oh, fuck! Every time you do it you seem to have learned a new trick!" he said.
"I try," she replied after making a show of swallowing, a big grin plastered across her face.
Jack stood up and began to sort out his clothes. Phoebe pushed past him and took his place on the stairs, leaning back and playing with her ponytail as she waited for his attention. Jack looked up, having fixed himself, his eyes met Phoebe's and then travelled down her body as she spread her legs. Her uniform skirt came down to just above her knees, and as her knees separated he could see further and further up her legs. He dropped to his knees before her, and pushed her legs the last little way and now he could see that she was not wearing any knickers. He pushed his head forward and his mouth made contact with her. She gasped and grabbed his head with both hands and pulled him further into her. His mouth opened and his tongue made circles on her, as her hips danced. Phoebe could not help herself, she mewled, gasped and sighed as Jack slid his tongue all over her, he briefly sucked his index finger and then pushed it into her. Gently, he moved the finger inside her as he kept up his ministrations with his tongue.
"Oh god! Oh Jack!" she exclaimed, throwing her head back against the stairs.
Jack felt her suddenly tighten around his finger, and then begin to pulse, drawing him further in. Her hips went wild, and he was treated to her sweetness. He kept his mouth attached to her and rode out her climax. When she came down, he gave her one final lick, which made her eyes roll back in her head, and he pushed her legs together as he stood up. Towering over his girlfriend as she recovered from her orgasm, her hips still rolling slightly and little twitches of her mouth as she smiled up at him, caused him to feel his trousers begin to tighten again.
"I love you," he said quietly, a smile on his face.
"I love you too, Jack," she replied.
"I wish we could ditch school today and spend the whole day here, I really wish we could, but we can't, the school will ring our parents if we aren't there soon," he said, his voice tinged with disappointment.
"I know, but you need to give me a few minutes to tidy myself up a bit," she replied as she dashed upstairs and into the bathroom.
A short time later, Phoebe reappeared immaculately dressed and coiffured and she opened the front door and led Jack outside. Pulling the door shut, she stooped to turn the key in the deadlock and then placed her arm in Jacks and together they walked off towards the school, just around the corner.
St Xavier's Sixth Form Coeducational College was a Church of England school that catered to seventeen and eighteen year olds in their final two years before university. The school offered a vast range of A-levels, in pretty much any subject for which an examination board offered an exam. Admission to St X's, as the pupils referred to it, was competitive and less than one in five that applied after taking their GCSEs was accepted. The ethos was very much similar to a top independent school, but there were no fees at St X's, you got in solely on your merit, whether your family was the richest or on benefits, and there were generous bursaries to help the less fortunate pupils so that they did not miss out on the extra-curricular activities - the skiing trips, gallery and theatre trips and foreign exchanges - these were recognised as being almost as important as academics in producing the finest scholars ready for the top universities. The academic and behavioural demands were high, but the rewards for those that put the effort in were vast.
The college was organised into two schools; the lower school, where the seventeen year olds fresh from achieving their GCSEs and new to the school spent their first year; and the upper school, where pupils, now eighteen, spent their second year. There was very little contact between the schools as they were separated across two campuses, a relic of the formation of St X's in the 19th century when two smaller, single-sex schools merged. The campuses were an eclectic mix of modern, Georgian, Victorian and Edwardian buildings, with classrooms ranging from cutting edge to dusty abandoned Victorian classrooms still outfitted with tiered desks and blackboards. Some years ago there had been talk of merging the sites, but that would have meant cutting pupil numbers and the governors could never justify that.
The headmaster of St X's, Mr Henry, was a mysterious figure who was barely ever seen; being called to his study was almost unheard of, and the few times it did happen it was followed by the pupil being frogmarched off school premises never to be seen again. The day-to-day running of the Upper School was handled by Mr Henry's deputies, Ms Hargreaves, a stern, serious woman in her forties who brooked no fools, and Mr James, a jovial and friendly man who spent time in the playground at break times and ate lunch every day with the pupils, he knew everyone's name and what was happening in their lives.
The uniforms for the Upper and Lower schools were the same white shirts or blouses, navy blue blazers with the school's crest on the breast pocket, blue trousers or knee length pleated skirt, white knee socks or grey tights for the girls, grey socks for the boys and a navy blue v-neck jumper for the boys and cardigan for the girls in winter. The only difference between the Upper and Lower Schools' uniforms were the ties. The Lower School had a navy blue tie with light blue, grey and gold stripes and the Upper school had a grey tie with light blue, navy blue and gold stripes in the same pattern, it was therefore easy to identify which school a pupil belonged to.
Jack and Phoebe arrived at St X's gates arm in arm.
"Have a nice morning, Phebes," he said quietly.
"You too, I'll see you at lunch." she replied pulling away and making a bee-line for her friends.
