The High School Librarian

Chapter 7 -- The Librarian

Miss Sullivan was by far my favorite teacher and not just because she had a killer body. She had joined our school's staff the previous year and had made quite an impression, integrating herself into the school community immediately.

She was nick named the Ginger Fox because she had an uncanny resemblance to Tina Louise (who played Ginger on Gilligan's Island) and the red hair. She was eye candy. In her mid 40's, she was the epitome of a MILF - if I had known what a MILF was back then. Her long, curly red hair perfectly framed her flawless face, her pale freckles the perfect match to her skin tone. She even had Ginger's beauty mark on her cheek! She was 5'10" and was the volleyball coach, having excelled as a varsity player herself. She had a slim figure and long legs, accentuated by her stockings' dark panels at mid thigh that she always wore. She wasn't overly busty (a C cup at best), but her toned quads and calves were perfection. As a horny 19 year old, I practically drooled over those legs. I wanted to run my fingers through those silky tresses of hers.

She was a dedicated professional and busily involved in the school community. Not only was she coaching, she was branch president for the school and was the staff's connection with both admin and the Parents Council. Freed of lesson prep and marking, she was early to arrive and late to leave, often working through lunch, eating in her office. She had a tough reputation with the student body (hence the Fox). She ran a tight ship and put up with no nonsense in her domain. However, she seemed to have a sweet spot for me, noticeably mellowing when I was around. Others noticed too and teased me about it. I spent a good number of my studies in the library when Caroline, Kate and I had no other plans.

When the Religious Studies teacher Mrs. Bates began the school year on maternity leave, Miss Sullivan (who didn't mind being called Ginger or the Fox, for that matter) had agreed to step in as the staff advisor to the Pledge who met in the library on Thursdays. The Pledge was a cohort of six senior ladies (the school insisted that adult students be referred to as gentlemen and ladies) who had publicly renewed virginity pledges on their 18th birthdays. They performed community services organized by Caroline, who had founded the group the previous year.

As volleyball was a winter sport and hadn't started yet, Miss Sullivan was able to devote some time to the group. She had taken to helping Caroline determine some ground rules for the groups' behavior and a unique dress code specifically for the members of the Pledge. Caroline was coloring outside of the lines.

My parents had hired Caroline to tutor me in two subjects that I had fallen behind in. As a result, her and her sidekick Kate were often dropping by my basement apartment before school and at lunch. I was an exhibitionist and had a lot of fun teasing the two of them with my physique and endowment. They knew where the spare key was and were welcome to drop by and enter my apartment without knocking. I often got caught with my "pants down" so to speak and the two of them had seen plenty. It seems that my immodesty had affected Caroline in such a way as to have influenced her standards of decorum. She introduced an element of wanton exhibitionism into the group and the members of the Pledge were now deliberately exposing themselves to the rest of the student body by going commando on Thursdays.

Ginger became aware of Caroline's new rules and was perplexed. She did her best to keep a lid on just how far the ladies went in exposing themselves, but she understood their exhibitionist desires. She was a part of what was known as the "Lifestyle" and attended fetish parties weekly where couples and single women (single men were not allowed) dressed as they chose and were free to join other couples or singles in whatever activities caught their fancy. Not into BDSM as such, she enjoyed showing off her dynamite body and observing others in their play. She had adopted the schoolgirl look as her usual theme and the short kilt and tight blouse complimented her muscular thighs and torso. She loved the attention. As a teacher, she relied on the discretion of this tight group to keep her secret in the closet.

Caroline had gone overboard and Ginger took it upon herself to reign her in. When Caroline (who wore a 38DD) had first decided to ditch her bra and had begun to use Stay Erect gel on her nipples, Miss Sullivan had insisted she wear a platform bra as a replacement to prevent her from being in violation of the school's dress code. When Caroline had decided that the members of the Pledge would go commando (another violation of the school's dress code), Ginger convinced her to limit it to Thursdays only. She had even agreed to go commando herself to show her solidarity with the group. It had been her suggestion that bald pussies were easier to hide than bushy ones when exposed in an upskirt. Weekly shavings were now part of the group meetings for those needing a trim.

I was unaware of any of this other than what Caroline and Kate had chosen to share with me.

All three of us shared the same study period, so it was natural to hang out at the library together if not at my apartment. Caroline tutored both Kate and I on Tuesdays and Fridays and the two of them were often busy with work for the Pledge the other days, particularly on Thursdays. I was in lust with the Ginger Fox so I began to hang out near her office, looking for ways to be both useful and noticed. Conscious of not being underfoot, I made myself indispensable to Ginger as a gofer. She appreciated my willingness to be at her beck and call and we quickly developed a way of communicating based on non-verbal signals.

As the semester progressed and the football season wound down, Ginger's growing affection for me was so obvious that some of my teammates were teasing me about it. I tried to laugh it off, but I had noticed it too. She often stood inappropriately close, her hands on my bicep or chest and she had squeezed an ass cheek on more than one occasion. Inappropriate didn't mean I didn't like it, but others were noticing. Additionally, I would regularly catch her in an immodest moment -- usually when nobody else was around -- when I would be treated to an "accidentally" exposed thigh, a generous glimpse of cleavage or the occasional nip slip. I had no way of knowing whether they were deliberate or not, but I had my reasons to believe that they were. Certainly my wishful thinking told me that it was intentional. Even so, I had to be careful not to get caught staring. I didn't want to creep her out.

After our last game (the City Championship) we were back to a more routine schedule. Miss Sullivan asked me to drop by at the end of the day after classes. When I arrived, Ginger was hustling the last few stragglers out of the library and locked the door behind me as I entered, leaving us alone. It was Thursday so the Pledge would be showing up in about twenty minutes for their weekly meeting. The Fox led me behind the counter and into her office and closed the door behind us. I was surprised that the blinds were closed, but not nearly as surprised as when the Ginger Fox stepped into me and gave me an entirety unexpected hug. As she squeezed me tight and held it, she stood up on her toes and whispered "Congratulations" into my ear. Before dropping back on her heels, she nibbled my earlobe, sending a chill down my back.

The Ginger Fox always wore a staff version of the school uniform that included a matching blazer. As she disengaged herself from our embrace, she immediately removed the blazer and hung it up on the back of the door, right where I was standing. It puzzled me at first until I quickly realized that it gave her the chance to flaunt herself within inches of my trembling excitement. I had the chance to appreciate just how her tight blouse hugged her athletic figure. We were inches apart and I felt an immediate surge in my cock, resulting in further sensation and stiffening. She dropped her hand between us, her fingers brushing lightly against my engorged shaft through my pant leg. They lingered there a few moments too long as the pressure increased slightly, her finger tips caressing my glans before withdrawing.

Leaving me there, standing by the door with no way to hide my arousal, she chose to sit down at that moment and get to the point. Ginger asked me to work my community service hours with her in the library during my study. I was often there already -- why not get credit for it?

The library was a popular gig for senior students who needed to complete their 40 hours of community service and it hadn't occurred to me to ask. Now that football was over, I jumped at the opportunity to work my study periods. Forty hours working with the Ginger Fox was an opportunity that I couldn't say no to. I said yes.

The Fox looked as pleased as punch that her seduction had worked, but I had no doubt that she knew what my answer would have been regardless. She had been enticing me all semester and I had been loving it. She had to leave now to let the Pledge in for their meeting, but she had to give me another entirely inappropriate hug, this one followed by a sloppy French Kiss. She then handed me a Kleenex box and promised to make sure that no one entered the office until I was "done". There could be little doubt about what she was implying as she exited the office reluctantly, a sorrowful look thrown back over her shoulder as she did so. She hesitated a moment longer with her look expectant before the door closed with a click.

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Miss Sullivan was busy, but it didn't prevent her from being patient. She quickly organized my time with her and told me that, if I hustled, I would get to spend the last few minutes of the period with her in her office. She set me up in a study carrel off to the side of her work counter and asked me to watch and learn from my post for our first few periods as her assistant. As she bustled about, I was poised, ready to do her bidding from my vantage point less than ten feet away. I quickly adapted my routine to hers and hustled around, anxious to spend a few minutes with her behind closed doors before having to proceed to my next class.

As my servitude began that first day, I did indeed watch and learn. Watching her like a hawk, I observed the magnificent Ginger Fox as she went on with the day-to-day routines of checking books in and out, answered questions and assisting classroom teachers with references. She used a tall waist high stool behind her counter to lean on from time to time and when she sat, she could hook her heels into the footrest just off the floor. Doing so flexed her knees and parting them bared her thighs to the waist as the Fox allowed her kilt to ride high. I couldn't get over just how much bare skin I was able to see whenever she leaned forward on the counter or sat down. Her kilt (did I mention that she wore a staff version of the school uniform?) would ride high on her thighs, exposing an expanse of bare flesh to my gaze. I caught her glancing my way during one of these "flashes", a sly smile betraying her intent. It made it clear to me that she was well aware that she was as exposed as she was and that she wanted me to notice. How could I not?

I was continuing to get generous glimpses of her incredible thighs. I was convinced it was deliberate as she was slowly flexing and extended her legs alternately, the rippling contractions of her quads mesmerizing. It was impossible to ignore as I stared, transfixed. Blood was flowing to my groin and my cock was already growing and stiffening. I could feel my face flushing. As the period wound down, I worried about how to deal with a burgeoning Hardon.

The Fox shifted herself again by switching bent knees and parted her thighs briefly, again reassuring me that her panties were in fact blue, before swinging herself back to face the front of the counter. Glued to my seat and considering what just transpired, I was alarmed at just how exposed she was, worried that I wasn't the only one aware of her immodestly.

As I hesitated in doing what was right, I was trying to figure out a way to broach the subject with her diplomatically. I came to realize that the counter blocked anyone's view from that angle : the view from my study carrel was restricted and unique and there was only a vague chance that she was unaware of just how much I could see from my assigned vantage point. I quickly realized that I was the only one in the library who had seen Miss Sullivan's upskirt and there was no need to share with her just how much she was exposed. On the off chance that it might have been unintentional or that it just might be a one-off, I certainly didn't want to embarrass her when only I had noticed.

Guiltily, I was thrilled to be able to peep on her without her being offended by my voyeurism. It made me wonder if the Fox had shared my ringside seat with anyone else In other periods.

Suddenly, she "caught" me staring, looked "annoyed" and signaled for me to join her behind the counter. I was very conscious of my embarrassing state and was reluctant to stand up, let alone approach her. She was waiting for me expectantly as I hemmed and hawed, deliberating the next 30 seconds of my life.

Unable to avoid it any longer, I stood up, knowing that she would be aware of my state immediately -- hiding an 11" erection is not an easy thing to do. My muscular thighs strained my pant legs as it was, there was no extra room for my thickening cock. Pressed tight to my inner thigh, it's profile was clearly visible. Reacting quickly, she indicated that I should follow her into the office with a nod of her head. It was directly behind the counter. She allowed me in first, then closed the door behind me.

As she closed the blinds, I was acutely aware of my growing manhood, already embarrassingly evident. I didn't know what to expect or what to say, concerned that my stint as Ginger 's assistant might be over before it really began. It was apparent to me why she led me into her office and I appreciated her effort to avoid my embarrassment to the others milling about. I was relieved that the office was empty, but I was acutely aware of just how prominent the tenting of my trousers was.

Before I had a chance to stammer out an apology, she stepped close and stood on her toes, quietly whispering her own apology in my ear, a repeat of yesterday's embrace. She nibbled my ear lobe (again!) and gave me another affectionate hug, squeezing me tight. I could feel her firm breasts pressed against my ribcage, my rigid tool uncomfortably constrained. It was pushing back.

When she sauntered back to her chair and sat down, she immediately crossed her legs, inevitably hiking up her kilt again. She did not offer me a seat, so I stood awkwardly with my back to the door, my erection clearly visible. I unconsciously bent over, trying to diminish the profile of my tented uniform pants. I was now at full mast and there could be no doubt that I was sporting an impressive erection. The Fox sat in front of me in her office chair, not three feet away. She began our conversation with some lighthearted banter, but was unable to take her eyes off of my pulsating bulge. Realizing that no one could enter unexpectedly with my leaning against the doorframe, she had allowed her hem to ride up and hadn't adjusted it. I had a bird's-eye view of tantalizing glimpses of bare thigh above the panels of her stockings.

I watched in fascination as she adjusted first one and then another of the clasps on her garter belt, extending that gorgeous leg as she stretched it, using both hands to pull up and smooth out her stocking. We carried on our trivial conversation as she repeated the same with her other leg. As she finished with her adjustments, she swiveled her chair to get herself comfortable, her bent knees facing me. By keeping her one knee bent and "stretching" the other leg straight again, she presented me with an incredible upskirt. The clasps of her garter belt were visible as well as the flesh of her inner thighs. Enough flesh that I could confirm that her panties were, in deed, baby blue.

She apologized again as she stood up and smoothed down her kilt. She took a deep breath and told me that wearing a school uniform made it easy to get dressed in the morning and was perfect for courtside coaching. She went on that it was likely that I might catch her in a variety of embarrassing "wardrobe malfunctions" as we worked together and that if I promised not to be offended, we could continue. I wasn't sure what she meant by that, but I took it to mean that she had no problem with my peeping.

The bell was about to ring and I was in no hurry to leave and stroll through the halls to my next class with tented trousers. Again, without saying a word, she tossed me a box of Kleenex and stepped out of the office, locking the door behind her. I was in shock. I didn't understand what had just happened. As incredible as our encounters had been, they had caught me totally flat-footed and unprepared.

I understood what Miss Sullivan was telling me to do before I left the office for my next class, but it hadn't sunk in yet. There was a gentle knock at the door and I heard a key turn in the lock. I was thankful that I hadn't started yet and was still standing by the door when she stepped back in again. She apprised the situation immediately and appeared disappointed that she hadn't caught me taking care of business. She asked me if I was going to my next class and whether I needed a "hand".

WTF? Did I need a "hand"? She told me that we had less than ten minutes before the next class showed up and that she would make sure that I was "done" before then. I was frozen to the spot, my erection literally throbbing with renewed vigour. The Ginger Fox crossed the room and sat back down in her office chair, then wheeled her chair back again, her gorgeous face now mere inches from my crotch. She impatiently unzipped my trousers, fumbling with my belt to get at my cock. She was chewing on her lower lip and her hands were trembling as my zipper opened up, my trousers prevented from dropping immediately by my constrained erection. A quick tug pulled both my trousers and briefs to my feet, my rod springing free, waving and pulsing. Miss Sullivan was hesitant to start, amazed at my girth, her fingers unable to wrap all the way around. Her firm grip was exhilarating though - the novelty of an unfamiliar hand adding to my excitement.

I didn't last long -- the ringing of the bell triggered my orgasm. The Ginger Fox's grip and rhythm were unique and it took a good 30 seconds for the ropes of cum to subside as she gradually slowed the pace of her strokes. I had been careless and didn't have any tissues handy and had made a mess. I was surprised by the volume -- wow! Ginger was a bit perturbed and handed me a roll of paper towels - her expression saying it all. I pulled up my briefs and pants, found a bottle of Windex and was finished cleaning up in time to get to my next class a few minutes late.

The very next day, I got caught again staring at her legs as she sat behind her counter. Rather than make a point of "catching" me, she slowly swiveled her chair 90° and crossed her legs intentionally, their shapely profile accentuated by her silk stockings. Depriving me of the upskirt that I had no right to expect, I realized that she was being deliberate in what she was letting me see. Without a word being spoken, she had allowed the hem of her shortened kilt to ride high again, no doubt deliberately this time. I was sitting across from her, in my study carrel, which made it easy to hide my building excitement. My imagination ran wild, guessing what she was or was not wearing under her kilt. Saved by the bell - it was time for my next class.