If I'm lucky, you've read some of my earlier work, which focused on my life in college. It's been a few years since then. I'm married now to a wonderful woman named Heather. We have a great life together that I won't go deeply into detail about here, except to tell you all about something that happened last week.
I have been the vice principal at Saint Elizabeth's; a relatively large Catholic High School for about three years now. It's challenging work, and can be very rewarding at times. My wife is finishing law school and she works incredibly long hours. It can be frustrating at times, but she knows that I am supportive of her. I guess I vented a little frustration with her one Tuesday night a bit harshly when my advances toward her were spurned. I ended up leaving for work on Wednesday with some tension still hanging in the air. Little did I know how my lovely wife would respond.
Now, let it be said, I am a mature professional educator. I care very much about the success and development of our students. That said, I will admit to having a thing for the uniform. I went to Catholic school as a young man myself, and the attraction stuck. My wife knows this.
I went to school and made my morning rounds. First period starts at 8:15, so I help usher the stragglers into their rooms, give the kids who were late to school a hard time, that kinda thing. About 8:25, I get a page over the radio they make me carry from my secretary:
"Mr. Shaun, your wife is here to see you"
Heather was no stranger to the school community. She was as active and supportive of school events as her schedule would allow, but I could not remember the last time she had stopped by during the school day.
"I'm on my way," I replied, heading back to my office, uncertain what awaited me.
I entered my office to see Heather there. She looked beautiful, as always. She has long blond hair that she usually puts up outside the house. It was down at the moment. She's 5'9 and has a very athletic body. We'll hear more about that later.
"Dylan, I didn't like how we left things this morning, and I knew I'd never get anything done today if we didn't work it out," she said as I shut the door behind me.
"I know. I'm sorry about that-I should be more..."
"Shut up." She had cut me off. Now I was concerned. She seemed genuinely agitated with me and she moved towards the door.
"Wait a minute," I said, meeting her at the door as she reached past me and, grinning up at me, locked the door.
She took off the long coat she had been wearing and hung it on the hook on the back of my door that conveniently covers the window that looks into my office. I then noticed that all she was wearing was a black lace bra and a nicely pressed, standard issue, green and white plaid, St. Elizabeth's skirt. My jaw dropped as turned away from the door and turned around a few times, letting me admire her body. She was gorgeous-a flat and tight stomach, firm 36 C breasts and a small but perky little ass that was just visible beneath her skirt. She moved over to me as I continued to stand dumbly by the door, and started to undress me. She removed my jacket and tie, and unbuttoned my shirt, running her nails down my chest as she did so. I've kept in good shape since college, training with the school's lacrosse and swim teams. As I'm about five inches taller than Heather, her face nestled right into my neck, where she started to kiss me as her hands began to undo my pants and gain access to my now engorged seven-inch cock. She kissed my all the way down my chest and kneeled in front of me, pushing my back against the door. She ran her fingers along my cock and tousled her hair against me. I could feel her warm breath on me as she began to flick her tongue along my balls, taking one gently into her mouth as her fingers continued to massage me. She moaned very softly, sending a sweet little vibration through me as I ran my hands through her hair. She looked up at me and smiled slyly:
"Forgive me?" she teased, moving her lips ever so closely near to the head of my cock.
"I love you, babe, nothing to forgive," I relied, sweeping her up off of her knees and leading her over to my desk, running my hands along her pantiless ass.
You may be thinking, wait a minute, this is happening in a school-a parochial school no less-this is not right. Well, you're entitled to that. All I can tell you is that it sure felt right last week.
