I was a 22 year old teacher when this experience occurred. My training had just finished and I was about three months into my first appointment. I was a little surprised by the politics of the work place. I had naively assumed that all these bright, intelligent teachers would work together for the betterment of the kids. Hah! But that is another story. Anyway, I had my first full time teaching position and I was really loving it.
One little understood facet of teaching is that there are an incredible variety of responsibilities if you are interested in putting yourself forward. One job I volunteered for was producing the Old Boys newsletter. (It was a single sex school). Communicating what was currently going on in the School was straight forward but I had the idea that including some historical information would be interesting for the readers.
I had heard that the School had an archive of historical material but didn't know anything more than that. I was at a loss as to where to start. Help came in the form of Carol. She was a general administrator at the school and although she worked mainly in the accounts section, she also seemed to wear a variety of other hats, one of which was unofficial archivist. She took great pride in the history of the School and thought my idea of using historical information in the newsletter was an excellent idea.
Carol was about 45 years old but quite well preserved. At about 5 foot 3 she had a slight but shapely figure. She had an attractive, well-proportioned face with a pert little nose and appealingly plump cheeks. She affected green or sometimes blue eye shadow which seems to work on some women but Carol was not one of them. It made her look naïve. Her hair was shoulder length silver/blonde which I presumed she dyed. Her skin tone was pale but not in an unhealthy way. Invariably she wore rather short skirts, ones that didn't go below the knee but, as I had noted when I first met her, she had very shapely legs. I am sure she would have been a real looker when she was younger. She was nice in a reserved sort of way but did not give off the vibe of being a very happy person. She threw herself into her work but there was a spark missing.
The archives were housed in the basement of the main administration building, a part of the School that was very rarely visited. She took me down one day after school and showed me around. It was really just a large area with no windows that had several long rows of high, dusty shelves and a more open area where larger things were stored. Over the course of the next few weeks we went down several times. I was gathering some really great material and had become quite interested in the history of the school. Carol strongly approved of my interest and we became quite friendly. I wouldn't exactly say that we flirted but we did share some personal information. I found that her husband had left her about 14 years ago and there had been no real relationship since. I found her an intelligent and surprisingly funny person. I really enjoyed her company and freely admit that I got a mild thrill when we accidentally bumped into each other or inadvertently touched.
There were several shelves of material in the basement that had clearly not been touched for decades and the two of us got quite a nerdy thrill in exploring these resources. We found some great letters from young men serving in both the 1st and 2nd World Wars and a host of other interesting information. One afternoon we had arranged to meet and do a bit more work after school. We were methodically working our way through the shelves one by one. There were six old boxes on the top shelf down the end of one of the aisles that we decided to examine next. Normally there was a step ladder in the room but it had disappeared. This happens frequently in schools, and I suppose most organizations. Someone borrows something without notification and does not return it. We were at a loss to reach these top shelves. I tried climbing up the shelves but they complained in a manner that meant that made me sure my full weight would cause damage. I could see nothing to hand that I could stand on so it was either go looking for a ladder or change our target of investigation.
"Lift me up", she said. Now I pride myself on my problem solving. I mean, I am a smart guy, but that option had simply not occurred to me. I contemplated the viability of the idea and saw that it would work. If I lifted her from about her knees she should quite comfortably reach the top shelf and her slight build should pose no great challenge to my strength. As long as the boxes weren't too heavy for her we should be in business. I bent my knees, lowered myself and wrapped my arms around her knees. "Ready?" I asked.
"Lift away." I stood up and was surprised by how light she was. One aspect of the arrangement that I don't think either of us anticipated, I didn't anyway, was that my face was squarely facing into her crotch. I couldn't help but breathe in and smell a distinct womanly aroma. I became hard so quickly it almost hurt. I think she too was a little surprised about where my face ended up. To steady herself she placed her hand on the top of my head. We retrieved the first box in a time that was too short for me but I lowered her to the ground when she indicated she was ready. We both smiled rather weakly at each other, sort of tacitly checking with each other as to whether we should repeat the technique. I forestalled any discussion by again bending my knees and asking her if she was ready to go again. I certainly wanted to repeat the sensation.
On the second lift she seemed to have trouble getting hold of the box for some reason so I had to hold her up longer. I couldn't see much with my face buried in the juncture of her legs but I was not complaining.
On the third lift I cheekily introduced an artificial wobble which resulted in her clasping the back of my head and pulling it more closely to her crotch. I thought I heard a low moan. On each subsequent lift she seemed to take more and more time before asking to be put down and I took longer and longer to lower her when instructed.
Her voice cracked as she gave the go ahead for the final lift. She would have to have been brain dead not to have noticed the gradual change in my technique and it was equally clear that she too was prolonging the task. I again lifted her and, when it came time, I didn't lower her to the ground. I loosened my grip and let her slide slowly down my body. As the small mound of her belly passed over my face I gently pressed forward. I could feel that her skirt was being bunched up behind her. Then her breasts came to eye level. I paused. Should I be so bold? I slowly turned my head from side to side. A clatter from behind me signaled that she had dropped the box. Her hands were then free and she encircled my head and pulled it forcefully into her cleavage. I could feel her bra but it did not stop my face forcing her breasts from side to side. Again I heard her make a low, drawn out moan. I savored the sensations for thirty or so seconds and then lowered her again. I stopped as our eyes drew level. She looked flushed and had a sort of dazed expression. I could clearly feel her pubic mound pressing against my stomach. I ground against her and then let her slip a little lower. She would probably not have felt my not inconsiderable erection as her legs slid past it but she certainly did when we came crotch to crotch. My hands were now cupping the cheeks of her bottom and I guess I was supporting her about 4 inches above the ground. She was blushing and breathing heavily. I lent down until our faces were mere inches apart. I think both of us wanted something more to happen but neither could initiate it or think what to do. We stayed this way for several heart beats.
"You're so young," she whispered.
"You're so beautiful," I replied.
She sighed almost theatrically and then I felt her legs moving. She slowly raised them up and encircled my waist. She then took a deep breath and used them to pull us firmly together. She looked at me with a funny look, half questioning, half fearful. I responded by pulling her closer in a manner that was almost like a thrust. My erection jabbed at her through her panties. She let out an involuntary gasp and her jaw went slack. I moved my mouth to hers and inserted my tongue. Her hands, which had been resting on my shoulders, circled my head and pulled it quite vigorously toward her. She sucked my lower lip into her mouth. She was a wonderful kisser. There was something desperately sexy about it. It was like she was famished, almost ravenous. I felt like I was being eaten. We were now grinding against each other and it seemed she was rubbing her pubis directly against the bulge of my erect cock.
I shuffled over to a couple of nearby two tier filing cabinets and placed her on top of them. She lay back. I could see a degree of apprehension in her eyes and her lower lip was trembling. My hands went under her skirt and ran up her smooth, silky thighs until each hand had a couple of fingers firmly hooked over the top of her panties. This was a definitive moment. She knew I was unmistakably positioned to remove her underwear. She also knew that by allowing me to remove them, she was consenting to being fucked. We looked solemnly at each other. She hesitated for a couple of heart beats and then to my delight, lifted her hips. I quickly removed the offending garment. I raised it to my face and inhaled deeply. I was intoxicated by the earthy pungency. Pure feminine arousal. She looked a little startled at my interest in her panties but I just grinned at her.
I raised her skirt and looked down. A generous billow of pale brown hair appeared at the juncture of her thighs. No sign or trimming or shaving here. I parted her legs and pressed my face to her crotch. I again smelt that wonderful rich aroma. I inhaled deeply as I pressed my nose into her cleft. I looked up and again saw her "deer in the headlights" expression.
