How did Charlotte Lose Her Virginity?
Part 5
Graham Randall sat marking exercise books in a room right at the top of the old school buildings. It was quiet there and it was a room he liked to use; he found he could concentrate there. It had a large old fashioned desk with plenty of room to spread books and papers out and a rather good view out over the playing fields giving him, if he wished, the opportunity to watch the lacrosse, netball, hockey or whatever the girls might be playing. The sun slanted in illuminating the other side of the room and the sloping ceiling. It was very much a room in the eaves.
A knock at the door and there was Helen Evans in her sports clothes.
"Hallo Helen, why are you not out on the field?"
"Hurt my leg, sir. Sister Mary sent me to bathe it and go and lie down."
"And?"
The girl bit her lip and looked left and right. "I thought I might, before Charlotte and I come and see you... I thought I might... I've been thinking about what you said and... please, sir, can I suck you like Charlotte."
"Not as private as my flat is it, Helen, what if someone was to come?" What indeed, though the idea was very pleasing. Very pleasing indeed.
"Take your knickers off, Helen."
There was puzzlement upon her face, but she complied. He reached out his hand and took the pair and stuffed them in his jacket pocket. Lovely to see Helen standing there, her breasts pushing against her white sports shirt with the school crest on the pocket and know under her rather short, white, pleated skirt she now had nothing on -- her young sex unprotected. It was very much how he liked to imagine the older girls running around at netball and hockey, knickerless and showing occasional glimpses of bare buttock or personal hair. A pleasing idea though he had never seen a girl forget her knickers -- yet.
"I've been marking your homework. Come here and we'll take a look." He reached across the desk at a pile of marked exercise books and found the one with 'Helen Evans' in her neat ink handwriting on the label. As she stood beside him it would have looked so like a normal teacher/pupil interaction if anyone had come in and seen them from the door but, as he talked about her work, his hand touched her knee and began to make its way up her soft inner thigh. This was not at all a normal interaction! Graham had already touched Helen but this time the way was unobstructed by knickers, they were in his pocket, and the way above his hand was completely open; the girl was standing with her legs nicely apart.
He felt her thighs quiver. So soft, so smooth. Surely not a trickle of wetness already? There had hardly been the time. Yet, when he touched, Helen was undoubtedly wet. A young girl ready aroused and 'readied.' Graham could have stood, eased Helen forward to bend over his desk and lifted her skirt, unzipped his fly and taken her there and then. Doubtful, despite being a virgin there would be much resistance, probably he would slip in like a knife into butter. An animal like copulation, the female taken from the rear like the stallion and mare or bull and heifer in the field. And something like a foal or calf might well be the result!
Graham played. With his left hand he turned the pages and indicated his comments, both praising and making suggestions whilst with his right hand he manipulated her sodden, hot sex, fingers sliding over and in. Three fingers this time, stretching and exploring. There was certainly room enough for his cock -- clad in rubber of course. He might even get Charlotte to push it in.
"Now, Helen, that was all in all, a good piece of work. Now, what was it you said you wanted to do?"
"Suck your cock, sir."
Had they been in the flat, Graham would probably have had Helen on her knees before him as he stood. Maybe both naked upon the bed. But this was a semi-public room. A risk one of the sisters might come in, or one of the girls. Not quite the sight he would want them to see -- Helen on her knees with his cock in her mouth, perhaps with semen dripping down her chin.
"You'd better be out of sight under the desk, Helen." Of course, he had imagined it before. What man with a kneehole desk had not imagined a girl crouched underneath and sucking his cock? They almost seemed made for the purpose.
Lovely to see Helen getting down on her knees and reversing in as he moved his chair aside. Should he just let her unzip him and extract or should he get more comfortable by dropping his trousers and allowing her easy access. A little risk should someone come in but not much. Nothing could be seen from the door and the chair had sides. Probably even if someone -- inevitably female as he was the only man in the whole place -- came to his side she was unlikely to notice he had no trousers on. It would only be if he stood up when all would -- very much - be revealed. And he was not going to stand up.
Graham Randall took his trousers and pants off dropped them into one of the desk drawers and stood for a second or two facing the door. Almost a dare. He was standing with his erect cock totally exposed between the hanging leaves of his shirt. Then he settled himself back in his chair, knowing he was just so presenting himself to the girl under the desk, his legs wide apart. Had he been a female teacher then he -- or rather she -- would have been just as well placed for Helen's mouth and lips.
"There you are, Helen, all for you. No hurry. Nobody is watching you; nobody will see what you do; you can play and suck to your heart's content; my penis and balls are yours to enjoy; only you must suck and I must come and I don't want any semen left behind. You're not coming out until then. You're imprisoned, not so much behind bars as behind cock. No hurry at all, the longer the better." Graham reached for another exercise book to mark, so conscious of his erection free between his thighs and the young girl all cooped up between him and the modesty panel at the end of the desk, a hidden girl crouching and no doubt staring at his penis in the half-light, wondering about sucking it. There was no hurry. He had a lot of exercise books to mark. His arms rested on the desk as he read, below his knees were wide apart and his cock upstanding.
He felt a finger touch and then stroke his balls. It made his penis twitch. Below, under the desk, did Helen like that particular movement? Did it excite her to see the flick of his rounded penis head, not quite the flick of the stallion's mane, but... He felt fingers encircling him at the base of his cock. Helen was touching him. Fingers trailing up his shaft. He could imagine her staring eyes; she had been fascinated by his erection before but now she had it to herself; no one watching her as she examined; nothing hurrying her, it was just her in her little cubby hole -- and an erect cock. Perhaps such an opportunity should be given to all young girls. A safe and non-threatening -- a risk free environment -- for cock play. A mandatory educational experience. No need for the girl to know whose penis it was. Unlikely men would not volunteer. Probably all the male teachers and many parents as well.
Below the desktop, fingers eased back the foreskin, exposing the helmet. Graham stopped reading for a moment as he felt a finger touch his fraenum, tapping the so sensitive underside of his knob. Gentle stroking of his skin, a slow movement covering his glans and then back again. Was the girl staring down the 'barrel' of his gun. She had seen him come, knew what might -- would -- come out. Such an opportunity for the girl. Had there been an accurate illustration in a library book of the erect male organ; perhaps an engraving in a old and dusty book the sisters were not aware of; an engraving copied from an original highly detailed anatomical study in pen and ink of an erect phallus and gonads, would not Helen have stared and stared at it. This was somewhat similar only it was the real thing.
Graham turned a page. He had marking to do however pleasant the gentle stroking was; however pleasant it was to imagine Helen contemplating his organs. Was she perhaps summoning courage to suck or just taking her time as he had suggested?
Cool lips. Cool lips around his knob. The girl had done it. Another step on her sexual awakening. The girl learning from her teacher. Lips holding him, holding his 'plum' in her mouth. No movement for a time. For Graham there did not need to be. It was just superb to be held like that.
A slow, almost imperceptible -- or would have been had a penis not been so sensitive, so chock full of nerve endings -- sliding down the penis, the young girl taking more and more into her mouth. Perhaps another day he might have Charlotte and her competing to see just how much they could take. What was that new film he had read about -- 'Deep Throat?' He would like to see that, but fat chance. Perhaps in Amsterdam or somewhere like that.
Sliding lips and a suction. Helen had taken his instruction to 'suck' literally.
'16/20' Graham wrote in the exercise book as he marked another girl's work. Not a bad mark. Below him, under the desk he rather thought Helen's efforts deserved a higher mark! He reached for another book. The dear girl was taking it slowly. Had she and Charlotte been talking? Of course they had! Delightful stimulation and then a rest. Was she just looking at his cock, now all wet from her mouth or, perhaps, she was also touching herself. Graham could not see anything, just the slowly reducing pile of to be marked exercise books and the rising pile of marked ones.
Such a shame he could only come the once. Were he Geraldine or Gretchen Randall at a boys' school, might he not be sitting here as a succession of sixth-form boys went under her desk, into the cubby hole already awash with the scent of woman. Thighs apart, knickers off, dress pulled high and wet quim ready for yet another tonguing. Ballantyne Minor at 3pm, Calthorpe at 3.15pm, Dent Major at 3.30pm, Levine at 3.45pm, tea at 4.00pm.
"No hurry, Helen, play as long as you like. Not getting too squashed or getting cramp are you?"
Graham smiled as he felt Helen's lips leave his knob to speak. "I'm fine, sir, I'm liking this."
The now warm and certainly wet lips slipped over his smooth glans again. What a feeling! He looked up at the door. What if Sister Mary came in? He could imagine Helen freezing, not daring to move, his cock in her mouth as he spoke to the sister. It could as easily be a girl or girls. 'Found you, sir, could we ask you a question?" Helen might relax and start her sucking again as he talked to the girls -- or the sister. How awful if she overdid it and he found himself ejaculating whilst talking, having to try and keep his composure and not gasp, sigh, or shudder as the electric feeling coursed through him and his semen was expelled. Would Helen choke and give the game away? Would she pull back in shock or to prevent herself -- her mouth -- being overwhelmed by his flow, leaving his ejaculating penis to spurt freely over her face and down onto her blouse?
