Private School Matters

Author's Note To Reader - This particular work is part of the larger story arc of

"The Caged Student"

,

"The Good Housemaster"

, and

"The Unready Prefect"

Just as I did for my prior stories, I strongly recommend that you start at The Caged Student and proceed through the other series. This is the second to last part of the arc which is the least related to the others. If one wishes, this could be read as a standalone series. Be aware, there could be some confusion about the importance of certain plot points in this story if you start here.

Finally, like my earlier tales, this series weaves many categories of erotica to make a complete story. Just so that you are warned.

Now, with all that aside, please enjoy...

Private School Matters

Chapter One

May 20th, 1983

Another boring class. I can't believe how droning Miss Adams is. The birds are faintly calling as the late spring promises to be a warm summer. It's hard to focus when graduation is less than two weeks away. Growing bored, I pick at a non-existent piece of lint off of my cream-coloured dress sleeve.

"Miss Newberry."

My eyes snap into focus. "Yes, Miss Adams?"

"Are you going to read any of the guide I've given you?"

"I'll go over it tonight, ma'am."

Miss Adams sighs, probably seeing through my lie. It'll soon be the weekend. What do you expect?

"Please do so by Monday. The final is extremely important for your average. Possibly even your graduation."

"I will, ma'am." The bell rings, and I jump up, dumping the paper in my haversack. Not wasting a moment, I join the others, hurrying out of the classroom with my long, light brown hair trailing behind. Finally. The last class of the day is next, and it's my favourite subject.

That subject isn't history, of course. It's the teacher himself. Angus MacInnes. All six feet, two inches, and fifteen stone of him. On top of that, it's Friday. He would be wearing his kilt. I pause a moment outside the door to get sorted. Trying to look relaxed, I enter the classroom with a flourish. "Good afternoon, sir." It's a wasted effort. The Head Girl, Gail, has already accosted him, and he barely nods my way. Frowning, I make for my desk.

"Hey, Evie. Still trying to get his attention?"

That would be my friend Leanne. We had a running bet on the chances of seeing what was under MacInnes' kilt. At this point, it looks as if she has all but given up. The blue-green tartan is about the same length as our uniform dresses anyway. "We still have one more week. You'll be paying me that fiver."

She shrugs. "Just don't do anything crazy, okay?"

"Me?" I smirk mischievously. "He'll wear it at graduation. A gust of wind..." Winking, I click my tongue. I watch her struggle not to laugh. Oh, wouldn't it be nice to be sitting below the stage with a treacherous summer breeze whipping up that woollen cloth? I try to imagine what that well-toned bum would look like. Was it fuzzy with fine blond hairs? Completely smooth? The man is sporting a decent beard, which belies any shaving...

"Miss Newberry?"

The image is hard to shake as I look at him. "Yes?" I must have said it funnily since several in the class start to chuckle. "I mean; yes, sir?"

"What are your thoughts on Robespierre's death and the later events in the French Revolution?"

I try to get my brain in gear. "I, uhh. Robespierre died by the guillotine."

The big man tilts his head. "Yes. We just covered that. Any thoughts about the fallout from his death?"

"Umm... Napoleon took control of France."

"Aye. But what happened before then?"

Gail raises her hand. "After Robespierre's downfall, France became more conservative during the Thermidorian Reaction. Napoleon painted this group as the new aristocracy and rose to power."

"Thank you, Miss Thomas. But I'm asking Miss Newberry. Please pay attention. A'ight? Lets continue..."

I've been warned. I keep my attention fixed on the professor for the rest of the period. That in itself isn't very hard. Just stop thinking about what might lie under that kilt, girl. As the bell rings, I notice him looking my way. Uh, oh.

"Miss Newberry, could you wait a moment, please?"

Leanne shakes her head as she leaves. "Catch you up later."

I try not to appear nervous. I'm a bit smaller than most of my classmates, and I glance around them at Professor MacInnes. At least he didn't look particularly unhappy. I check the black cardigan and striped tie to make sure nothing's out of place. Finally, the last of my classmates are outside. "Yes, sir?"

"Miss Newberry. As your Form Master, I've been hearing from your other professors. They're saying you're not putting forth your best effort."

"Sir? I'm doing very well in your class."

"Aye. If by that you mean solidly satisfactory."

The tall man walks around the desk and sits on the corner. It's all I can do to not stare at the man's muscled calves under the long stockings.

"I appreciate the effort you're making before and after my class, but the others' worry. Don't you wish to go to university?"

"I really don't see myself as university material, sir. I want to model. You know, like fashion." I put a hand on my hip and give my professor a charming smile. Why can't I flirt with him a little bit? It's fun since he always gets a little irritated. I try not to grin as the blond man arches an eyebrow at me.

"You mentioned that before. I thought you weren't serious."

"Only because my mother is set against it." I let my five foot four frame turn and take a few steps away acting as if I were on a catwalk. "But soon I'll be away from here." Twisting back quickly the pleated dress flares out revealing my slightly olive complexion above the cream stockings. I can thank my dad's side of the family for that.

My professor folds his arms. "Just like that? Out in the wide world with no experience?"

"I've taken some photos. Tom has a camera and we..." Cripes! Shouldn't have said that. "Umm, I mean... "

MacInnes' expression is now inscrutable. "Thomas Howard? I'm sure your mother would not approve of that. However: you are eighteen, and that's your business."

"So you won't tell her?"

"Nay. A word of advice if I may?"

"Yes, sir?"

"As I said, you're an adult and know your own mind. Just realize you canna run out in the real world without a plan..."

My excitement takes over. "Oh! I do, sir! I'll send the photos and resume to an agency at the end of next week!"

"That seems a bit hasty, Miss Newberry."

"I've been thinking about this for a while, sir. I'm going to go for it!"

The professor sighs and puts his hands up in seeming surrender. "Of course. Of course. Just; be careful out there."

"I will, sir." Sensing a dismissal, I start to leave.

"Miss Newberry."

I pause at the door. "Yes, sir?"

"I hope one day I might be a witness to your successes. Good luck."

I realize that I'm practically grinning ear to ear. It's as if I'm just floating down the hall. My whole body is all a jutter just talking with him! That man is just so; cool! Stop swooning, girl! You have a date tonight with Tom, and you can't look too worked up in front of mother.

"Hmmm! Hmmm!"

It's Professor Handley, the Deputy Headmaster. He's staring at me through his thick spectacles. "Yes, sir?"

"Why are you practically skipping through the halls, Miss? Show some decorum!"

"Sorry, sir." He's in charge of discipline here, but school's out. Without a second glance, I step through the main doors and see that there are only a few people hanging around outside. Most everyone has already left, and it isn't hard to find my mom's auto.

"You're late." The forty-year-old blond frowns.

"Sorry, mother. I had to talk with Professor MacInnes."

"Your grades again?"

"Yes, mother. But don't worry. I'm graduating."

"You had better. What would your father say?"

"I don't know. He's not around. Again." This is a very sore subject, and my mother's mouth clenches.

"He's fighting for our country, Evelyn."

"Yeah. It's been over for a year. Why's he not back?"

The older woman's lips turn down in a grimace. "Sam volunteered for Fortress Falklands six months ago. He'll be back when they finish the airport his battalion is working on."

"Great. A no show for graduation then?"

"He'll call."

"Whatever." My father has become a relative stranger these last two years. If he really wanted to, he'd be back with my overbearing mother by now. Mom could hold a torch for him as long as she wants, but soon I'll be gone. I remain silent the rest of the way home, thinking about the future. Throwing my bag over a shoulder, I tromp into the small two-bedroom home with my mother close behind. "I'm going out to see Tom tonight."

"Out? Where exactly."

"His father just bought a compact disc player, and he wants to show it off."

"Fine then. Nowhere else. You'll be back before curfew."

"I'll be home, mother. Nine o'clock."

"Not a minute later. You know the consequences."

* * *

It turns out what I told mom wasn't exactly true. I had walked the three blocks over to Tom's house, and we did listen to his dad's first CD for a bit. Vangelis' Chariots of Fire. Tom loved watching the track listings and being able to instantly change songs. My classmate could be such a goof. He could drive, however, and his dad had a decent camera. After a few minutes, we leave for the edge of town to find a park to take more shots of me.

"How about this fallen tree here?" Tom points.

I had changed into a short spring dress for the occasion, and we walk deeper into a wooded area. Glancing around, I nod to the lanky, five-foot-eleven senior. "Looks fine. I think I'll sit on it here."

Tom moves around to get the sinking sun behind him. He lifts his glasses and stares through the rangefinder. "Okay. I'll start then?"

I try not to squint as the golden rays shine into my face. Many people say I have the most stunning hazel eyes. Letting my shapely legs dangle below me, I tilt my head a bit. A few pictures later, I switch to laying sideways, accentuating my tapered waist. Two shots later, I lift one leg and feel the dress drape off most of it. I can see Tom shaking his head at the sudden amount of thigh that's now exposed.

"Whoa." Click. Click. "Your skin is amazing in this light!"

"Thanks." I look down to check that my knickers aren't showing. "Hey! Your shadow is on the stump, you git!"

"Oh? Damn!" He takes a few steps over. "Sorry."

"How many do you have left?"

"Ten. How about some close-ups?"

"Let's do it then."

Tom closes in and snaps a few shots. "I think this is just right. The gold streaks in your hair are really popping!"

I purse my lips, emphasising their fullness, and Tom's practically drooling. He moves into a crouch and points the camera up at me. I'm sure he's trying to capture my decidedly conical C-cups in the frame.

"These are the best yet!" The senior looks down to check the camera. The roll must be done. Just in time to, as the sun descends behind the trees. He rewinds the film and stands back up. "I think you have more than a couple you can use."

"I hope so. After the last two times, I only think we have five really good ones."

"Sorry. I'm learning. I had to read a book out of the library."

I make sure to smile at him gratefully. "I know. And I appreciate how much trouble you're going out for me."

"Trouble?" The young man's voice cracks a bit. "To get to hang out with you?"

Twilight is just beginning to set in as we reach the car. I know how much I'm taking advantage of my classmate. He'd just about do anything for me. Anything for just a chance to kiss. Strangely, he hasn't tried yet. I can tell he's building up, though. As goofy as it all is, it's still very sweet.

"I was wondering." Tom adjusts his glasses. "Are we serious?"

I try to keep a grin off my face. I'll make it easy for him. "We'd have to kiss first."

"Oh. Uhh. Want to, you know..?"

My smirk forms anyway. "What? Kiss; or get 'serious'?" I can tell Tom doesn't know what to make of that. Well, he's finally going to make his move. Turns out it's not a bad one. He leans in, and our lips touch. Lightly at first, but he doesn't withdraw. Slowly, my classmate increases the pressure, and I find myself leaning back into the car door. My lips part, and Tom takes the lead. His tongue is super wet. Was he salivating for me? Every second, he's getting more passionate, and it's difficult to keep up. I finally have to push back, breaking the kiss. "Hey. You don't have to put me through the rinse cycle."

Tom is breathing heavily. "Sorry." He wipes his lips and blinks, almost in a trance. "I'll do better."

To my surprise, he turns his head for another go. I let him come, not sure why. Maybe because he's nice. Maybe to piss off mom. And just maybe... Randy thoughts of a very tall Scotsman rattle through my head.

This time, Tom is pressing more of himself into me. One hand rubs my waist, and the other is on the roof over my shoulder. A subtle motion begins between us. Well; this isn't so bad. I just wish... I just can't feel real passion build inside me unless I think about my professor.

Tom's hips shift, and I feel a hardness in his slacks slide across the front of my thigh. A knot contained in tight fabric. Okay. Okay. So he's a little more dangerous than I thought. Tom's mouth is at my ear.

"Let's get into the back."

I look over. This could be the excuse I'm looking for. "Are you okay with just kissing?"

"With you?! It'll be a dream come true!"

His eagerness is obvious. I formulate a plan for how to handle him. "Alright then."

Tom opens the door for me and then slides in behind. We stare at each other for a moment, and then the young man puts his arm around my shoulders. Back to shy and slow, are we? This time, the kiss is gentle. A hand on my cheek. Then down to my arm. His tongue meets mine again, and we softly duel. This is so much nicer now, but I know he'll still screw it up. Just as I anticipated, I feel his hand drop to the top of my leg. The thin dress I'm wearing has ridden up considerably, so I wait. Sure enough, the palm moves slowly higher. Keep kissing him. It's at the hem. The fingertips brush my inner thigh. He's trying to be smooth, and the dress is starting to slide up. It's time. Just before he reaches my knickers, I push back.

He slams into the door, and his glasses go flying. "Evie!"

"I told you, just kissing! Why are boys all the same?!"

"Evie..." He moans. "I'm sorry."

He actually looks hurt! I reach for him. "Wait! What did I do?"

He's holding his ribs. "I hit the door handle. You could have just said stop."

"I didn't think I pushed you that hard. Is it bad?"

Tom gingerly tests moving his arm. "I don't think anythings cracked."

"Are you sure? Let me see." He pulls up his shirt slowly, and I lean over him to look. Sure enough, there's a pretty sizeable red mark. "Oh! I'm sorry." I carefully rub the spot.

He tenses, but after a few seconds looks down. "That feels good. Whenever we touch, I just... I can't help myself."

I nod a little. I didn't really feel that way. It was nice, yes, but not how I see others react. Not like when I fantasise about how it should be. "Let's find your glasses..."

Tap. Tap. Tap.

We both jump, and a light shines in our eyes.

Tom pulls his shirt down. "Fuck!"

I peer over his shoulder and see a man and woman in uniform. Fuck is right! "Play it cool, Tom. Let's explain."

Tom nods and opens the door. "Hello constables. Is there a problem?"

"Allo, sir. Allo, miss. You do know that this park closes at sunset?"

"Yes, sir. We just got back from a walk. We were talking."

The female patrolman sniggers. "With your shirt off?" She looks over at the short dress I'm wearing. "In the back with a tart like this?"

"Can we see your ID?"

Sighing, Tom fishes out his wallet. "I swear, sir. We weren't doing anything wrong. I was just hurt, and we were checking it."

The officer peers at the paper with his flashlight. "You too, Miss."

"I've never driven, sir. My student ID is at home."

"Wooo." I look back at the other officer and find her grinning at me. "Out after curfews, eh?"

I look around. "It's still light out. It can't be..."

Tom is staring at his watch. "Shhhii..."

"Yessir. That just about sums it up. Will you step out, please?"

"Sir. I can explain..."

"You can explain out here if you wouldn't mind."

"I swear we were just about to go home!"

The officer at the door puts a hand on the billy club strapped to her waist. The hairs on the back of my neck tingle at the sight, and I nudge Tom. He's trying to be all serious, but it's only making things worse. "We're getting out, ma'am."

Both of us slowly slide out of the back seat, and the officers look us over. "You both know you're in trouble, right?"

"Yes, sir," I answer. "But we didn't intend to be out here so late."

"Ha!" The other constable again. "I must remind you that anything you do say may be given as evidence."

My mouth clamps shut. Unfortunately, Tom's doesn't. "We weren't doing anything!" To my dismay, the female officer seems aggravated now and whips open a pad. My classmate's eyes go wide as she begins writing.

"First: Students out after curfew without a parent or guardian. Second: Lewd behaviour in public."

"Lewd? What are you talking about?"

The other officer shrugs. "We were across the road, noticing yours was the last car in the lot. You put on quite the show for a bit."

Tom looks outraged. "You watched us?"

"Then you just got all hot and heated in there. By the time we walked up, it was one past. That's about it, I think."

"Which reminds me." The female officer, in her dress and checkerboard top, scribbles some more. "Indecent exposure."

"I was looking at a bruise!"

The constable stops writing. "Are you arguing with me?"

I put my hand on Tom's shoulder. Something's off here, and it's scaring me to death. "Please, officers. We just want to go home."

The uniformed woman looks at me. "If you remain cooperative. Now, hands on the car so that we may make a search. Constable Jennings?"

Tom takes a step in front of me. "Now wait a minute!"

"You, on the other hand..." She pulls out a set of binders.

"Ma'am?! What..."

The uniformed woman roughly turns Tom around and pushes him against the car. Moments later, his hands are secured behind his back. "I'll have no more out of you." Her stockinged legs push between my friends, spreading them wide.

"What are you...?!" Tom's voice squeaks again as the woman's hands start patting him down. "Hey!"

I stand there in shock. This is way overblown for just two students out late! Slowly, I realise that Officer Jennings is smirking. "You'll make no fuss, miss?"

I nod my head. What else am I supposed to do? Run? I place my palms on the bonnet, and the older man comes up behind me.

"Spread them for me. No reason for me to be rough with ya."

I nod and do so as compliantly as I can. His hands start at my shoulders and begins tapping and lightly squeezing me as he slowly descends. I soon realise my thin dress is allowing him to get a pretty good feel of the shape of my hips, and I cringe.

"Now, now, love. This will only take a minute."

He continues, and I feel his grasp come up to my thinly clad chest. I utter a quiet whine as he gropes my suddenly sensitive flesh.

Tom's head whips my way. "What are you doing...!"