0 comments/ 6524 views/ 3 favorites The Girls of St Catherine's Bk. 03 Ch. 01 By: nightvoice2 Highland Games (1) ------------------ Wednesday, 15 July ------------------ The storm raged through the night, rattling the doors and tugging at the gutters of the old school as if the weather Gods were angry with the sins committed inside. Thunder boomed, rattling the old windows and hail rattled against the roof like handfuls of thrown marbles. The trees swayed wildly in the wind, their branches swinging to and fro as if they were conducting the maelstrom. The storm grew and grew, then at its climax a rapier of pure white lightning arced from the bruised sky and hit one of the ancient oak trees, cleaving a large branch from its trunk, the fierce winds tugging it free, sending it spinning into the darkness. As quickly as it had arrived, the gale moved on towards the coast, the weather Gods grumbling and arguing about whether the sacrifice of the old tree was enough to appease them. ------------------ Saturday, 8 August ------------------ David stared out of the window of the staff room as he stirred his coffee and thought about Anna Brittan, the art teacher. Of course, he'd heard on the grapevine that despite being found innocent by the tribunal she'd decided to change schools but it wasn't till he get back to his room that he found her note slipped under his door explaining it from her point of view. He was disappointed with her decision, but on the other hand, they'd always said to each other that it wasn't a serious, long-term relationship and somehow he was sure there paths would cross again. After the freedom of his long summer holiday, it felt like he was already back to the daily grind of timetables, lesson plans and instant coffee. He'd returned to the school the day before so he could prepare for the new school year which started on Monday. Now he was taking a short but well-earned break from his preparation. Outside, it was a typical August day, warm and sunny but with a gusty southerly breeze causing miniature dust swirls as a long line of cars queued along the gravel drive. He sipped his coffee and watched as fathers wrestled suitcases out of the back of large, expensive-looking cars, emotional mothers said their goodbyes, and slightly embarrassed-looking young women slung rucksacks over their shoulders and wheeled their cases inside. Off to one side, a small group caught his eye. Two men and two women, who all looked to be in their mid-twenties, too old to be students, but too young to be parents. It looked like one of them, the slim young blonde with the sunny smile, was recounting some anecdote, her tanned arms gesticulating as she arrived at the punch-line. Opposite her, the slightly chubbier woman, placed her hand over her mouth as she laughed loudly. She was slightly shorter then her friend, with red hair that blazed like molten copper in the bright sunshine. She was holding hands with the man next to her, who David guessed must be her boyfriend. He was dark and plump, and he stood listening patiently with one hand clutching the straps of a large rucksack that leaned against his leg. Completing the group, was a tall, pale young man with a pronounced Adam's apple and thick black glasses who stood slightly stooped, as if he was embarrassed by his height. He stood quietly, listening to the others, occasionally pushing his spectacles up over his nose. "They're our new teachers," said a voice behind him. "Ah, headmaster, nice to see you again," David said, turning as the head joined him at the window. "Enjoy your summer holiday?" "Yes, spent some time with my parents, then did a bit of hiking in Austria with friends, all very enjoyable, thanks. How about you?" "Yes, fine thanks, spent the summer trying to improve my golf handicap," the head replied. "The young lady with the red hair facing away from us is our new chemistry teacher, Florence Macgregor. You remember Dr Bryant retired at the end of last year?" "Yes, of course." "And the other woman is Jo Ledbury, she's going to be helping Miss Lambert out with physical education in general, but with the hockey team in particular." David nodded. "And the young man in the glasses is Edward James, he's going to replace Mr Stewart, who also retired." "I see, so it's all change then." The headmaster smiled thinly: "Well, sometimes change is good, David. Within reason, of course." There was a pause whilst they both stared idly out of the window, David couldn't help comparing the two new female teachers. Jo looked chatty and full of self-confidence, and wore a short white tennis skirt and a cool, mint-green halter top that showed off her lean, athletic, lightly tanned body. Florence looked more quiet and introverted, pulling her pink cardigan around her and tucking her copper curls behind her ears as the breeze got a little stronger. He watched as Florence's boyfriend slid a hand down over her back, possessively squeezing her plump bottom through her jeans, before circling her waist and tugging her closer. They moved differently too, David thought as he watched the little group slowly disperse; Jo moving off towards the car park with a lithe, easy grace with Edward struggling to keep up despite his long stride. Florence a little more hesitant, scurrying forward to open the main doors for her boyfriend, his feet sinking into the gravel under the weight of the huge rucksack, as they entered the building directly below him. "Actually, it's quite lucky that glad I caught you here, I've been meaning to have a word." David knew the headmaster well enough to know that luck wasn't involved. The head would have carefully planned to catch him here. "Yes?" "I don't know if you heard, but part of the roof was damaged in that freak summer storm a few weeks back." "Yes, I'd heard something about a branch falling on the roof. Was it damaged?" "Yes, a damn nuisance. It's not too bad but it has broken a lot of tiles. Anyway, we're having some roofers in to fix the damage, but it's an expense we really didn't budget for." "So how can I help?" "I was thinking, perhaps we could organise some kind of summer ball. You know, maybe set up a marquee on the lawn, get a band in, that sort of thing. If it's organised properly, any profit should help with the repair costs." The head spotted the look of concern that crossed David's face. "Oh, don't worry. I'll get my secretary to organise everything, but we do need some ideas for a theme." "A theme?" "Yes, you know, like an eighties party, or seventies disco, or classic Hollywood. Or pirates." "Pirates?" "Oh, I don't know, I'm a bit old for this sort of thing really. So I was hoping you and some of the new teachers might come up with some fresh ideas." "Well, I'll certainly have a think about it, headmaster," David said. "I'd appreciate that, David, thanks." David smiled as he headed back towards his room. A summer ball, eh? Well, it would certainly give him an excuse to get to know Jo and Florence. And Edward too, of course. Perhaps he should invite them all to the pub next Friday. --- "Thanks for this, I'm actually quite a keen rambler," Edward said eagerly as he followed Jo towards the car park. "No problem, I picked up the trail maps at the tourist information place in the village centre. I can get some more the next time I'm there. There's loads of walks around here," she replied. "Maybe we can do one together some time," he said hopefully. She really was a terrific girl, very helpful. Attractive too, with a lean, athletic body topped with straw-blonde hair. He followed her towards her car, a beaten up old Golf, which had a small dent in the rear bumper. It was a two-door model, and he watched as she opened the passenger-side door and hunted through the glove box. "Where are they? I thought I put them here," he heard her say. It wasn't very gentlemanly, but he couldn't help noticing the way her summery white skirt clung tightly to her bottom, the thin material doing little to hide buttocks which looked as firm and toned like the rest of her and he had the sudden impulse to reach out and goose her. He clasped his hands together behind his back. "Ah no, here they are, in the back seat," she said, taking a step back, and folding down the front seat. Edward stood and watched as she stretched awkwardly, one foot planted on the car park's gravel, her other knee on the front seat, her legs parted a little. He felt his cock stir as the short skirt rode even further up over her long legs, revealing acres of smooth, tanned thigh. He couldn't see a panty-line through her skirt, perhaps she was wearing a thong. Or maybe nothing at all, he thought feeling himself become even harder. It would be easy to find out, he could just reach forward and slide the hem up over those toned thighs... "Thanks again," he said, feeling his cheeks glow red, as she straightened and twisted to face him. "Were you checking me out just then?" she said, her icy blue eyes narrowed, her expression stern as she handed over the leaflets. "Checking you out? Um, no, " he said, realising he was sounding a little panicky. Oh gosh, she'd caught him, how embarrassing! "You were, weren't you? I could tell, you were staring at my arse," she said, hands on hips now, her brow wrinkled as she frowned. "Well, you know, maybe a little, I mean I could hardly..." he started, then stopped as a broad smile lit up her face and she started laughing. "Got you!" she said. "Um..." he said, not sure of what to say. "Come on, I'm just having you on! I'm joking!" she said, punching him in the arm. "Oh, right! Right, of course, good one," he said, rubbing his sore bicep. She packed quite a punch. He'd have to watch her. --- Florence helped Derek lift the rucksack onto the bed, then walked over to the window. Outside, the female students were enjoying the sunshine, some lingering on the lawns, some strolling by the river, one or two playing tennis on the clay courts. "Wow, it's so beautiful here," she said, as she felt Derek move behind her. "That's not the only thing that's beautiful," he said, wrapping his pudgy arms around her waist and drawing her back against the firmness of his body. "Och, you old smoothie," Florence said in her subtle Scottish accent, then sighed as she felt his lips brushing against the smooth, pale skin of her neck. "God, you smell good," he said, his hot breath against her ear. She sighed as she felt him tug at her cardigan, his warm lips kissing the exposed skin of her shoulder. She slid her hands behind her, along the back of his thighs, squeezing his firm buttocks through his jeans. "Oh, Derek..." she whispered as she felt one hand slide up over her white t-shirt beneath her thin cardigan, cupping one of her well-rounded boobs whilst the other tugged at her leather belt. "We can't. Not here, someone might see us," she said, trying to twist away. "I can't help myself, Florence, you feel so good," he said, clutching her tightly so that even through her jeans she could feel his steely hardness pressing against her bottom. "Derek, someone might see us," she repeated, feeling one of his strong hands sliding beneath her t-shirt and squeezing her breasts through the thin cotton of her bra. "Come on, I think we should check out the bed, make sure it works okay," he said, giving a little victorious grunt as he felt her belt unfasten. "Come on Derek, please!" she said, tugging at his hands, finally breaking free. "I haven't even got a key to lock the door yet, anyone could walk in!" "Come on Florence, we're not going to see each other for weeks, I just thought, you know, you'd want to..." he said, reaching out and clutching her hand. "I'm sorry I've got to unpack and I'm just not in the mood," she said, taking a step back. "Come on, you can't leave me like this," he said, glancing downwards at his jeans. Florence put her hand over her mouth, stifling a giggle as they both looked at the large and obvious bulge in his jeans. "Come on, it's a long drive back to London, can't you help me out?" he whined. "Well..." she said, suddenly feeling a little sorry for him. Was that her fault, in some way? Had she led him on? "Please, just a little stroke." "Och, okay, " she said, reluctantly. "Get your jeans off and sit on the bed." Florence dragged one of the heavier cases over to the door to prevent someone from walking in on them then sat next to him on the bed, helping him ease his jeans to his knees. He lifted his hips as she eased the waistband of is black shorts over his hips, unable to suppress a little surprised gasp when his cock sprung free. He was very erect, his short but thick cock jutting out from a tangle of dark pubic hair. They kissed, his lips gently nibbling and sucking at hers as she wrapped her pale, slender fingers around the throbbing shaft and slowly slid her hand along the length of his hardness. "God, Florence, that feels so good," he groaned. "Is this what you were thinking about on that long journey down, you naughty boy?" she teased, as she began to stroke him up and down. "Yes, yes," he moaned, his breath hot against her neck. "You feel so lovely and hard," she purred, feeling the slow burn of arousal as she felt his cock throb and swell beneath her fingers. She eased his foreskin back, watching as it formed a tight collar under the swollen purple glans, his juices spilling from the little slit. "I can't help it, you make me so hot," he gasped as she began to move a little faster, her silver charm bracelet jingling. Florence watched him lean back on his elbows, closing his eyes as he savoured the delicious sensations. She slid a hand between her legs, stroking herself through the tight denim, feeling a nice, warm glow down there as she watched him. This ability to give him so much pleasure simply by sliding a hand up and down almost seemed magical, and she smiled as she felt his hips undulating, his breathing becoming hot and ragged. "Oh God, don't stop, please don't stop," he was moaning now, as she started to jerk her hand a little faster now, sensing he was already getting close. Florence slid a hand into her jeans, gently massaging her mound, feeling her panties dampen as she shared some of his arousal. She was quite hot now, almost regretting her decision to shun sex. She was suddenly tempted to slide her jeans off and straddle him but his increasingly strained voice alerted her he was already nearly there. "Please, please," he panted, his eyes squeezed shut as Florence stroked him harder. She watched his whole body tense as he teetered on the edge, his breathless moans increasing in pitch. Then he was cumming, his body jack-knifing, releasing his breath in a long, low growl of ecstasy as he came; thick, hot ropes of pearly white spunk erupted from his jerking cock, splashing over her hand and pooling on his stomach. She continued to massage his softening cock for a few seconds, milking the last few drops of cum from him, before crawling onto the bed besides his spent body. "Consider that a thank-you for the lift," she said, kissing him lightly on his dry, salty lips. ------------------ Monday, 31 August ------------------ "Girls, eyes front! Imogen, pay attention please!" Florence stood, hands on hips, a stern expression on her face, her eyes flashing stormy grey as she waited for the girls at the back of the class to turn back towards her. They kept being distracted by the sight of young Michael, walking backwards and forwards outside the window, wheeling impressively big stacks of tiles. Even when she was facing the blackboard, she could tell when he passed by the increase in whispering and giggling at the back. In truth, she had some sympathy with the girls. It was another hot, sunny afternoon and the sight of Michael stripped to the waist, his dusty jeans clinging tightly to his muscular thighs, his bronzed biceps bulging as he manfully wrestled with the heavy stacks was enough to distract any red-blooded female. Still, she was new here and felt she needed to establish some discipline, so she was determined to get the girls' respect, and make sure they were paying attention. "Thank you, girls," she said, a note of exasperation in her voice. "Now, let's talk about alkanes..." --- Gary stripped off his polo shirt while he waited for Alan to remove the old tiles. He had a broad, tanned chest with a tattoo reading "Spurs forever" in fine, flowing script on his left forearm. He leant against the scaffolding, shading his eyes from the sun, enjoying the warm kiss of the sun on his bare skin. It was a lovely day, the air balmy and clear, maybe even a little too hot. A nice, pleasantly cool breeze up here at the top of the scaffolding though. When the weather was good, his roofing job seemed like the best in world, getting a bit of a suntan whilst listening to the birds singing in the treetops. Nice view too. From up here he could see the cows grazing in the pastures over the river, beyond the perfectly-trimmed, gently sloping lawns of the school grounds. He also had a great view of the schoolgirls walking between classes. All those nineteen and twenty year old young women in their sexy school uniforms were very distracting, so progress on the roof had been a little slow so far. Below him, he watched as Michael neatly placed another stack of tiles near the foot of the scaffolding. He wasn't one of their staff, he was a young lad that worked for the school. The crafty old headmaster had insisted they use him to keep the costs down, so he'd been assigned the job of ferrying the new tiles around from their van. Health and safety precautions prevented him from joining them on the scaffolding until he'd been properly trained. "Blimey, look at state of this," his boss said, holding up another broken tile, "it's shocking up here. That bleedin' branch caused a lot of damage. More leaky than the Spurs defence." He couldn't help laughing, even though he must have heard that joke a thousand times before. His brother and boss, Alan, was a big Arsenal fan, a season-ticket holder, but despite that character weakness, they got on quite well. "How's the underlying structure looking? Are the batons okay?" Al had spent the last hour carefully removing most of the damaged tiles, and now he checking the felt and wooden frame beneath for signs of further damage. "It's mostly okay, but there's a bit of water damage. I think we're going to 'ave to patch about three or four before we can tile." "All right, I'll go and get some lumber from the van." He walked down the length of the scaffolding, his thick leather boots thudding on the wooden planks, then leaned over trying to locate the ladder. Just then, two of the female teachers appeared, walking down the path directly beneath him. "Good morning ladies," he shouted, cheerfully. He smiled as they briefly glanced in his direction, before hurrying on towards the classrooms. "All right, ladies! Give us a smile! Come on, make our morning darlin'!" Alan shouted. He'd slid down the roof and was now standing next to Gary. They laughed and waved as both the redhead and the blonde looked up and rewarded them with broad grins before disappearing around the corner. --- "Disgusting," Jo muttered, as she heard the builders shouting at them from the scaffolding, although she couldn't suppress a toothy smile. "Disgraceful and sexist," Florence agreed, as they walked a little faster. They giggled and glanced over their shoulders at the two burly roofers shouting from the scaffolding. --- They spent the rest of the day removing some of the damaged trusses and patching them with new lumber. "Come on, can't we just get going? I want to be home in time for the football," Gary complained. The Girls of St Catherine's Bk. 03 Ch. 01 They were standing at the bottom of the scaffolding, tidying up before they left. Michael was helping them cover the piles of lumber and tiles with tarpaulins, weighing down the edges with bricks, and putting out brightly-coloured cones so that no-one stumbled over them when it got dark. "I told you, I'm not having you placing your grubby 'ands all over my nice new van. I only got it last week. So we're going to shower here before we go. You too, Michael. If you want a lift back to Eastbrook, that is." "Are you sure this is okay?" Gary said, as they got some clean clothes from the van and headed towards the gym. "I told you: the 'eadmaster said it was fine as long as we use the visitor's changing room and lock the doors. We don't want any nubile schoolgirls strolling in on us when we're in the all-together, eh?" he said, with a broad grin. "Perish the thought," Gary said, and laughed. --- Florence ran her hands through her rust-coloured tresses and pushed her sunglasses up over her nose as she strolled by the river. At the end of a difficult day in the classroom, she'd got into the habit of taking a walk along the river before heading back to the canteen for dinner; it was so beautiful down here on a summer's evening and it seemed to help clear her mind. She turned her face towards the evening sun, enjoying the last of the day's warmth on her skin. She was heading back up the lawn past the gym when she was startled by the sound of raucous laughter coming from the open windows. That was odd; all of the girls would be queuing for dinner in the canteen so who was using the changing rooms at this hour? As she got closer, she realised it sounded like those roofers. What were they doing in there? She should really just mind her own business but she was tempted to have a look and paused beneath the window. It was just above head height, but she could probably just see over the ledge if she stretched. Perhaps, she reasoned, she should just have a quick look to make sure they weren't burglars. Grasping the ledge with her fingertips, she stood on tiptoes, her sunglasses dangling from her fingers as she peeked through the half-open window. Through the humid, steamy air, she could see the three men towelling themselves. The oldest of the three was nearest; the one called Alan who shouted at her today and seemed to be in charge. He was facing away from her, and she watched as he dried himself, rubbing the large white towel over his hairy chest, his stocky arms, his shaved head, his rounded buttocks. As he turned sideways, her eyes were drawn to a modestly sized penis, nestling in a mass of dark, curly pubic hair and framed by fleshy thighs. He was a bear of a man, with a barrel-chest and an impressive array of tattoos, including the word "Gunners" across his shoulders. She wondered what it meant; perhaps he'd been in the army? "Tell you what, you're a lucky boy, working here, Michael," he said, "all these hot young women running around in those sexy little school uniforms, eh?" "I guess there are worse places to work," Michael said, grinning shyly as he towelled off his legs. He was younger and leaner than the other two, the muscles of his arms and legs clearly defined under his smooth, mostly hairless skin. She was beginning to see why the girls in her class were so distracted! She watched as he dried his arms, then his thick tangle of dark hair. She knew she shouldn't, but she couldn't resist letting her eyes drift down over his broad chest, his flat stomach, to his lightly-haired thighs where a good-sized cock protruded from a sparse triangle of tawny hair. "Come on Michael, spill the beans. I bet you're getting plenty, eh? All these lonely girls, stuck out here in the sticks, missing their boyfriends, needing someone to keep them warm at night, eh?" "Well I've got no complaints," he said, his cheeks flushing red. "I bet you haven't," laughed Gary. "I tell you what, the teachers aren't bad either. If the teachers at my old school looked half as sexy as some of the ones here, I might have stayed on when I was sixteen. Did you see that redhead and her blonde friend this morning?" "They're new here," Michael said helpfully. "Miss Macgregor and Miss Ledbury, I think they teach chemistry and physical education." "I tell you what, I wouldn't mind doing a bit of physical education with them, I bet I could teach them a thing or two!" Alan said, still towelling his back. Gary laughed loudly. He was the tallest of the three, with a shaggy mane of bleached blonde hair. He had a lovely body, his arms and legs lean and muscular from a summer spent carrying tiles up and down ladders. His skin was bronzed, tanned all over apart from a thick band of pale white around his thighs. His buttocks looked firm and taut. She found herself stretching her neck, standing on the very tip of her toes as she watched him towelling his long limbs, slowly turning towards her. She caught her breath as he turned her way, revealing an impressively long cock, swinging between his legs like a pendulum as he vigorously towelled his spiky hair. "Jesus, he's hung like a horse," she murmured, unable to take her eyes of his magnificent dick. She put her hand over her mouth; had she just said that out loud? "Did you hear something, Al?" he said. "I didn't say anything," the older man said. "I think it came from outside." They all looked up, but Florence was already gone, a rosy glow spreading across her cheeks and her heart thumping as she scurried back up the gravel path towards the sanctuary of the main building. --- It was another hot, humid night. There had been something of a heat wave over the last few days, and Florence was finding it difficult to get a good night's sleep. She never slept naked, it just didn't feel proper, so she'd slipped into her lightest nightwear, a black satin chemise and a matching pair of knickers but she was still too hot. Even with the stiff, old windows as far open as she could get them and the curtains wide apart, there was no breeze and it just felt airless. It was too quiet as well. She'd spent the previous year in London, at a teacher training college, and before that, three years getting her degree at Edinburgh University. It was never quiet in those places. Even in the early hours, there was always some kind of noise: the traffic, distant sirens, drunken students staggering back to their rooms, the low rumble of the underground. Here though, there was virtually no sound at this time of night. Just the occasional strangled, lonesome bark of a fox or the ghostly hooting of a barn owl piercing the stillness. She tossed and turned restlessly, her duvet twisted around her ankles, her mind going over the experiences of her first few days here. She could feel her breasts brushing against the satin, the material caressing her skin like a lover's fingers, its folds glistening wetly where it caught the moonlight. She couldn't resist teasing herself a little, pulling at the skimpy material, drawing it back and forth across her tightening nipples, feeling them tingle as they dimpled the fabric. The incident with Derek had left her deeply unsatisfied, on more than one level. Sometimes, she wished he was more assertive, more of a man. Although she'd been reluctant, part of her couldn't help wishing he'd been a bit more masculine, a bit stronger. Instead a pleading for a quick hand job, perhaps he could have thrown her onto the bed and ravished her, his strong hands tugging at her clothes, eager to see her naked, his lips pressed against hers, their bodies passionately entwined. She bet those roofers wouldn't have settled for a quick wank. It had been quite naughty of her to spy on them like that. What had come over her? She wouldn't normally do that sort of thing. Maybe it was this school. Ever since she'd arrived she'd been aware of the slightly heightened atmosphere, a distinct sexual tension in the air. Of course, it all seemed very decent on the surface but she couldn't help feeling that there was a hidden world here, just below that razor-thin veneer of respectability. She seemed to have trouble sleeping since she got here too. Of course, there was this damned heat-wave making it so uncomfortably hot, but there was something else too. Was it a coincidence that she kept awaking in the middle of the night with lewd, pornographic images crowding her mind, a fine sheet of perspiration coating her body, a deep yearning ache in the pit of her belly? Tonight, her mind kept returning to the same question: what would have happened if those workmen had caught her? What would they have done? She imagined the three big, strong men, wearing only their towels, dragging her into the changing room, demanding to know why she'd been spying on them. She slipped her fingers beneath the thin spaghetti straps, easing them over her smooth shoulders, sighing as she slowly drew the smooth material down over her exquisitely sensitive nipples, until her boobs were glowing pale and naked in the moonlight. She shivered as she trailed her fingers over her stomach, her skin tingling in anticipation as she imagined how that it would feel to have them manhandle her, their strong hands clamped around her slender wrists as she tried to twist away. Burly, tattooed arms circling her waist, lifting her off her feet, her low black heels scrabbling for purchase against the tiled floor. Of course, she'd try to escape but what could she do up against such fit young men? She ran her hands up over her smooth, pale skin, cupping her boobs. Florence thought her breasts might be her best feature. She could certainly turn a few heads when she wore a low-cut top! Not that she did that very often. Certainly not when she was out with Derek, as he was quite possessive sometimes and surprisingly prudish about her clothes. She trailed her fingertips over the pale, milky skin. They were pleasingly plump and firm, almost conical in shape and tipped with stubby, dark red nipples that Derek said reminded him of tiny Scottish raspberries. She imagined rough male hands groping her, crudely fondling her through her blouse, sliding beneath her conservative knee-length, pin-striped grey skirt, squeezing her buttocks as she protested. She could almost hear them, laughing and making crude comments about her helpless body as they began to tug playfully at her clothes. Of course, she'd struggle but they'd easily restrain her, perhaps twisting an arm behind her back as they pulled roughly at her blouse and skirt. Florence flicked a soft, teasing fingertip across a nipple, feeling it stiffen and come to life as she pictured Gary struggling with the tiny buttons of her blouse, eventually losing patience and cursing as he ripped the white cotton asunder, buttons skittering across the tiled floor as her cotton-clad breasts spilled out. "Nice tits," he'd grunt crudely, enjoying the sight of her ample breasts jiggling under her flimsy white bra as she tried vainly to free herself. Florence licked a finger, then slid it over the slope of her boob, teasing herself by circling one of her throbbing nipples. It ached for attention and a little sigh of pleasure escaped her plump lips as she squeezed it between thumb and forefinger, feeling it become even stiffer. The more she stimulated it, the more it demanded her attention. "No, please," she'd be squealing, as she felt her sensible skirt being yanked over her hips, feeling it slip down over her legs and pool around her ankles. In the struggle, their towels would have fallen off and she'd be shocked to see them completely naked, their semi-erect cocks swinging between their legs as they excitedly pulled at her underwear. Their cocks becoming harder, jutting out rudely, as her clothes fell away. She'd still be struggling as they pulled her to the floor, forcing her to lie on the little pile of their damp, discarded towels, strong hands clutching her wrists and ankles. Florence moaned as she slid a hand between her hot, sticky thighs, massaging her mound, feeling her wetness seep through the thin satin of her black panties. There'd be no escape now she was on the floor, she'd be at their mercy. They'd be all over her, their hands caressing her naked skin, lips kissing her stomach and neck, a tongue licking along the inside of her thighs. Exploring her naked skin as she twisted and writhed helplessly. She imagined them panting in the hot, humid atmosphere, her flimsy, lacy bra no defence against their strong, rough workmen's fingers, her naked boobs spilling out. She could almost head the victorious, lusty comments at the sight of her boobs, and feel the rough hands groping them, squeezing the plump flesh and cruelly plucking at her nipples. She'd still be struggling of course, still pleading for them to let her go but there'd be no stopping them now. They'd be so aroused by her nakedness, their cocks hard and angry-looking now, bobbing between their thighs, ready for action as they ravished her. She stroked herself between her thighs, feeling her knickers dampen, imagining it was Gary licking her down there, his powerful hands forcing her thighs wide apart as he licked her through the clinging satin. Despite herself, she'd be unable to suppress a low moan of passion as he eased the thin gusset to one side, his eager tongue lapping at her naked, engorged lips. "No, " she'd gasp, briefly lifting her head to watch him tug at her panties, the skimpy material ripping and shredding like tissue paper between his strong fingers, exposing her embarrassingly wet centre. She lifted her hips and wriggled her panties off now, impatiently kicking them off her ankles. She closed her eyes, stroking her silky slit, imagining her fingers were his tongue playfully licking her. Back and forth, back and forth, lapping hungrily at the juices that spilled so freely from within her, his fingers spreading her puffy lips, the very tip of his tongue exploring her pink inner lips till she thought she'd pass out from the intense sensations. Florence was writhing happily now, her head twisted to one side, eyes squeezed shut as she pleasured herself, her pussy lips glistening wetly in the moonlight. She used the pads of her fingers to massage herself in slow circles, occasionally dipping a finger inside her moist cleft and spreading her honey along her slit, using the very tip of her finger to stimulate her throbbing, ultra-sensitive clit. How would they have her? Perhaps they'd pin her to the floor, vice-like hands pulling her ankles wide apart, her hands stretched above her head, as virile, young David fucked her, his firm buttocks bobbing between her knees, driving his lovely long cock deep inside her as the two older men urged him on, stroking themselves as they watched, eagerly waiting their turn. She was gasping for breath now, sucking in great gulps of the warm, sultry air as she used a finger to probe the wet, clasping lips of her pussy whilst another traced intricate patterns around her clit. Her knees were wide apart, her bottom lifting off of the bed, her ankles scrabbling for purchase, the sheets clinging to her damp buttocks. Or perhaps Gary would want to have her doggy style. There was something primal and animal-like about being fucked like that. Forcing her over one of the wooden benches, her bottom stuck in the air, strong hands pulling her knees wide apart as she mewed feebly. "No please," she'd pant as she felt uncompromising hands on her neck and shoulders forcing her down. Gary would be kneeling behind her, his hand coaxing his mighty prick to full hardness. She felt herself grow even hotter as she imagined him pressing the bulbous end of his magnificent cock against her entrance and pausing briefly, before easing himself smoothly inside her, his thick, long dong filling her completely, forcing the breath from her lungs, a long wail of pure pleasure echoing off the tiled walls. Her fingers were flying over her clit as she imagined him moving deep inside her, all the way in till his pendulous balls slapped against her bottom, then all the way out till just the tip rested inside her and her pussy ached with emptiness, then plunging back in forcing another surprised but contented squeal from her lips. Perhaps, Michael and Alan would be in front of her, taking turns, forcing her to suck on their swollen dicks as Gary fucked her. Relentlessly fucking her harder and harder as her body betrayed her, loving the feeling as she moved in time. Before long, their voices would be a chorus of pleasure, Alan encouraging her to suck him harder and Michael feverishly stroking himself as they neared their own happy endings. Gary would be plunging deep into her, loving the feel of her tight velvety wetness clasping his hardness. "Oh God," Florence gasped, frigging herself with two soaking fingers as she strummed a wet fingertip over her clit, her body arching up off the bed, as she felt her climax approach. In her mind, she could hear the Alan and Michael's ecstatic cries as they came simultaneously, their hot spunk splashing over her face. Gary's muscular buttocks would be pumping hard now, plunging his hardness deep inside her, over and over, moving faster and faster until he too climaxed, his hot spunk flooding her pussy. The thought of him coming inside her triggered her own climax and suddenly she was there, her glistening body arching off of the bed as she felt the delicious wave of pure ecstacy sweep over her, consuming her for what seemed like several long breathless minutes. When it was finally over, Florence lay in the darkness, slowly regaining her breath, the perspiration cooling on her salty skin as the night's silence closed in around her and she finally drifted off into a deep, contented sleep. The Girls of St Catherine's Bk. 03 Ch. 02 Highland Games (Part 2) ----------- Tuesday, 1 September ----------- It was another warm, sunny day and the trunks of the old oak trees cast crisp, black shadows along the path as Florence strolled towards her classroom after enjoying a late breakfast. "Morning, love! Enjoying the sunshine? What are you doing after work, eh?" She couldn't help glancing up at Gary leaning over the scaffolding, a cheeky grin spread across his face, the sun lighting up his tousled, blonde hair. She felt her cheeks flush bright red as she remembered her dream from last night. What had come over her? She didn't normally have such wild fantasies. She hurried down the path, desperate to avoid him seeing her blushing. Whatever would he think if he knew what she'd been dreaming about last night? She heard hurried footsteps behind her, and turned and smiled at David as he caught up. "Morning, Florence," he said, breezily. "Morning," she replied. She was always pleased to see clean-cut, boyishly good-looking David. "Are those guys bothering you? I can have a word if you want," he said, seeing her red cheeks then glancing up at the scaffolding. "No! No, really, it's fine, they're harmless," Florence replied. David must have thought her all-too-obvious embarrassment was caused by his shouting. "Well, if you're sure. Listen, I'm glad I bumped into you," he continued. "The headmaster's thinking about having a summer ball out on the lawns here, and I wondered if you could help me come up with a theme." "Wow, a summer ball, sounds fun," she said. "He needs a theme?" "Yeah, you know, something classy like James Bond or Downton Abbey or something." "Sure, I can have a think about that." "I thought we could get together at the pub on Friday to discuss our ideas," David said. "Not just you, of course." "Which pub?" "The Fox and Hounds, do you know it? It's about a mile from here. I can give you a lift if you want. First round's on me." "Aye, sounds good, do you want me to ask Jo and Edward as well." "Yes, I was just about to say that. If you could all make it, that would be perfect." "Right you are, Friday it is." ---------- Friday, 4 September ---------- "How about vicars and tarts?" Wicklow suggested. "It's a wee bit tacky, no?" Florence replied. The Fox and Hounds was pretty much as Florence had expected; an old-fashioned country pub with creaky wooden floors, horse brasses on the walls and a very limited selection of wines. They were sitting in the public bar, which was to the right when you came in. The other half of the pub was known as the saloon, and had more tables so was mainly used for dining. So far they'd spent at least an hour kicking around ideas for a summer ball, without coming up with anything they could all agree on. "How about a seventies disco theme?" Jo said. "And you thought my idea was tacky," Wicklow grumbled. "How about a masquerade party like the ones you get in Venice? Everyone has to wear a colourful mask," David suggested. "That's a possibility, although where's everyone going to find elaborate masks?" Jo said. "Or how about a black and white ball, so everyone dresses in only black or white?" "Sounds quite classy," Florence said agreeably. "Yes, although I'm sure we had something similar a couple of years ago," David added. "How about Arabian nights?" Edward suggested. "Well maybe..." David said, without much enthusiasm. There was a prolonged silence while they racked their brains for other ideas. "How about another round of drinks?" David said brightly. "Maybe we need some liquid inspiration, eh?" -- David leaned on the bar, realising too late that he'd dipped his elbow in a pool of spilled beer, as he glanced back at his colleagues. It was a pleasant change to have the two girls joining them, they certainly brightened up the old pub and its usual mixture of farm workers and retired couples. Jo was wearing a hot pink halter top over a rather tight pair of denim cut-offs, an ensemble that showed off her long, lean limbs. While Florence wore low-necked green and white sun-dress that emphasized her eye-catching cleavage. "Um, two glasses of white wine, a whisky and two pints of best please," he said as the barman drifted over. "Large or small glasses of wine?" "Oh, I think large please." -- "Cheers," Jo said, trying not to pull a face as she took a sip of her wine. It was so dry that it made her eyes water. She leaned forward as she reached down, feeling around in her handbag until she found a tissue. Edward was sitting opposite her, and under the table she could see his pale and slightly knobbly knees protruding from a pair of baggy blue board shorts with broad yellow stripes down the legs. As she straightened back up, she grinned to herself as she caught him staring down her loose-fitting top, copping a look at her pert boobs. He quickly looked away when she caught his eye. "Busted!" she thought as she grinned. She knew he fancied her but was too nervous to make a move, which was kind of cute. She generally preferred older, more experienced men so he wasn't the kind of man she'd normally go for, but she supposed he was quite good-looking behind those thick glasses in an awkward, geeky sort of way. Perhaps he'd be fun to flirt with until someone else came along. Beneath the table, she quietly eased off one of her expensive sandals. "How is it? Alright?" David asked, nodding at her wine glass. "Well maybe it's an acquired taste. I hope that's Scottish whisky," she added, changing the subject and pointing at Wicklow's glass. "Yes, I think it's Famous Grouse." "Hey, wait a minute, I've got an idea. How about a Scottish-themed ball? Like a Hogmanay in September?" she said. Beneath the table, she brushed Edward's calf with her bare toes. "Actually, that's not a bad idea, we could have traditional Scottish dancing," David said. "And a variety of Scottish whiskies, and traditional Scottish food," Wicklow added. "And we've got Florence to make sure we get the details right," Jo continued, putting her arm around her friend. "Actually, that could work," Florence said. "And we can wear traditional Scottish dress, kilts for the ladies and the men, of course." "Kilts, eh? Sounds interesting," David replied. "Of course, the men will have to wear them in the traditional Scottish way, isn't that right Florence?" Jo said, nudging her arm. "Oh, of course, " her friend said, returning her grin. "Traditional Scottish way? You mean, nothing underneath!" Edward said, shifting uncomfortably as he felt Jo's foot stroking his calf. "I don't know about that." "Come on, don't be such a bore, live a little," Jo said, moving her foot a little higher. "Quite right, I'm game," David said. "Where's your sense of adventure, Edward?" "Yes, you need to broaden your horizons, open your mind," Jo said, smiling as she softly but firmly used her toes to push at his knees. He shifted in his seat, but allowed her to prise them apart. "Well I think it's a good idea, but you'll never catch me wearing a skirt," Wicklow grumbled as he knocked back the last of his whisky. "It *is* a good idea. Hopefully those roofers will be gone before the ball, that scaffolding's a bit unsightly, we want the school to be looking it's best," David added. "Yes, well, I must say, they seem to be a bit of a distraction," Florence said "You find them distracting?" "No, not me," she said and felt herself blushing again, remembering her fantasies from earlier in the week. "It's the girls. They keep being distracted, I'm having trouble keeping their attention. One or two of the girls are really quite disruptive." As Florence and the others discussed the best way of dealing with trouble-makers, Edward felt himself becoming increasingly aroused. He nearly choked on his beer as he felt Jo's teasing foot ease beneath the baggy leg of his beach shorts, her toes tracing little circles on his bare thighs. "Well, you know what I always say," Wicklow said. "What's that?" "Give 'em a good thrashing," he said, as it if was obvious. "Mr Wicklow's very old school, believes in a strong sense of discipline," David added, almost apologetically. "A thrashing? You mean, spank them!" Jo exclaimed. She couldn't help grinning as Edward shifted uncomfortably in his seat opposite. She was thoroughly enjoying teasing poor old Edward. The look on his face was priceless! She pretended to stretch, leaning back in her seat, sliding her bottom to the edge so she could reach further. Beneath the table, she extracted her foot from his shorts, and slid it up his thighs to his crotch. Edward coughed to hide a little gasp of surprise as he felt Jo's teasing foot slide between his legs. Looking down, he could see her toes, the nails painted bright pink, massaging him through his shorts. Gosh, she was such a tease! She'd been playing games with him since they'd met, but kept finding excuses whenever he asked her out on a date. He tried to catch her eye, but she kept ignoring him. Eventually he tried clearing his throat, to get her attention. "Stop it," he mouthed, hiding his lips from the others by pretending to scratch his chin. But she just smiled inscrutably, arching one of her thin, blonde eyebrows and stroking him a little more firmly. She looked so cute and innocent with her pale pink lips and sky blue eyes, he was sure the others would be shocked if they knew what she was up to under the table. He really was becoming quite hard now, and he shifted in his seat again trying to ease the growing pressure in his shorts. Perhaps he should go to the bathroom and rearrange himself but somehow it felt like they were playing a game and he was damned if he was going to concede defeat. He could feel the sweat prickling his forehead, and pushed his glasses back up over the moist skin of his nose again. "Of course I mean spanking, it's what the school's known for," he heard Wicklow saying. "Gosh, I don't know. I mean, I had heard you still practice corporal punishment here but I thought it was just a rumour, maybe something that happened in the past. I thought it was outlawed in this country years ago," Florence replied, sounding shocked. "Well it is against the law generally, certainly in state schools. But certain private institutions have exemptions," David explained. "I see, and St Catherine's have such an exemption?" Jo said helpfully, unable to suppress a broad grin as she felt Edward become increasingly hard, his prick bulging against his shorts. "Yes, well, some very important politicians and high-ranking policemen send their errant daughters here," Wicklow said, tapping the side of his nose. "So we're allowed to bend certain rules. One hand washes the other, if you know what I mean." "I see, so corporal punishment is quite routine here?" Edward said, pulling his jacket over his lap to hide the blonde's teasing foot. He was still trying to follow the conversation although it was increasingly difficult. Jo's heel was now resting on the front of his seat, her painted toes flexing and un-flexing as they expertly massaged the hard ridge in his shorts. She seemed very good at this, and he couldn't help wondering if she'd done it before. "Indeed," he heard Wicklow say. "It's what we're famous for. It's why some of the parents send their girls here. For a dose of good old-fashioned discipline, so my advice is: don't spare the rod, eh?" Jo's wicked toes slowly worked their way up over his lengthy shaft and were now describing lazy circles around the swollen, sensitive head causing lovely warm tingles to dance up and down his spine. He had to pretend to cough to suppress a little groan of pleasure. "I'm not really sure it's for me. I just can't see myself doing it. What do you guys think?" Florence said, turning towards Jo and Edward. "Well, I certainly know of some very naughty girls who could do with being taught a lesson," Edward said, looking at Jo meaningfully as he felt a drop of sweat roll down over his forehead. "Well, some girls can't help being a little naughty, it's just the way they are," Jo said, her moist pink lips stretched into an innocent smile as she pressed her toes a little more firmly. "Yes, but everyone knows the difference between right and wrong. I must say there are one or two girls I know who I'd love to bend over my knee and deliver a jolly good spanking," he replied, feeling the pre-cum spilling from the tip of his cock now and soaking into his shorts. "Well, you do surprise me Edward! I didn't know you had such strong views! You're definitely a lot firmer than I'd have thought," Jo giggled. "Are you okay Edward? You look a wee bit flushed, are you feeling well?" Florence said, sounding concerned. "Yes, you do look a little hot," Jo said, flashing him a sweet, butter-wouldn't-melt smile as her toes stroked the throbbing, sensitive head of his cock, through his tented shorts. "I do feel a little feverish actually, maybe I should get back to my room, and have a bit of a lie-down. Are you coming, Jo?" "It's not me who's coming," she said, under her breath and winking at Edward. "What's that?" David asked, leaning forward. "I said, yes, I'd better be going too," she said, glancing at her watch and smiling sweetly. "Yes, me too." Wicklow said. "Well I think it's been a good night's work." "Yes, I'm going too. Hogmanay in September. I think that's great," David said. "Job done." -- "So have you ever been spanked?" David had offered Florence a lift. Wicklow had taken her there, but it was a bit crowded in his old MG with Edward and Jo, so she'd been happy to take up David's offer. "I beg your pardon?" she said. "You seem to be strongly against spanking. I just wondered if that's because you were spanked as a girl." "No, no. I went to an ordinary state school. They didn't do that sort of thing." "I see, so you don't really know what it's like." "Well, I suppose not. It just seems so... Victorian. You know, like it belongs to a different age." "You know that's what I thought before I came here, but the last couple of years have really changed my mind." "Really?" "Yes, I was as sceptical as you but you know it is very effective in the right circumstances. Only as a last resort of course." "Hmm, I don't know. I just couldn't imagine myself doing that sort of thing. I mean, actually striking one of the students. It seems so demeaning." "Well, you're not really 'hitting' them, it's usually just a couple of light slaps. It's not the physical pain that's important, you see, it's the shock, the embarrassment, the humiliation." "So let's say, I'm one of the students in your class, and I've stepped out of line. Let's say I've been distracted by what's going on outside, rather than paying attention. What would you do?" "What would I do to *you*?" "Yes, if I was one of your students, just as an example to help me understand." "Well, obviously I'd start by telling you to pay more attention." "But if I didn't, if I kept ignoring you." "Well I might give you a detention, or send you to the headmaster if you kept doing it." "Yes, but what if all that failed?" "Well I'd ask you to come to my room, usually later, after classes." "Come to your room? Okay, so let's say we're alone in your room, what do you say?" "I usually give the girls a last chance. If they're genuinely remorseful I'll let them go." Florence shifted a little in her seat, picturing herself standing in David's study, dressed in the school uniform and staring at her uniform shoes, penitent hands clasped behind her back. "But let's say, for the sake of example, I'm not taking you seriously, I'm being a really bad girl. I'm not listening, I'm just saying 'yeah, yeah, whatever'." "Well then I'd invite you to bend over my desk." "Bend over your desk? Really? Just like that? What if I don't want to?" "Well I'd have to help you get in the right position." "Help me get in the right position?" Florence repeated, a little breathlessly. She glanced sideways at David, to see if he was joking, but he remained straight-faced, his eyes on the road. He was quite attractive, in a sort of conventional, clean-cut, English sort of way she thought. Not amazingly handsome or anything: his body looked lean and athletic rather than bulging with muscles, and his square-jawed face was pleasing rather than strikingly good-looking but she had to admit part of her did find him appealing. "Yes, I suppose I'd lead you towards the desk, encourage you to bend over it." "Okay, so now I'm over your desk, do you just start spanking me?" "Well usually, even the most troublesome of girls will be begging for mercy now I've shown I'm serious so I might let you go." "Okay, but I'm a really bad girl, a trouble-maker. I really need to be taught a lesson," Florence insisted, crossing her legs. For some reason, the idea of David's strong hands gently but firmly forcing her to bend over his desk was making her feel a little aroused, and she felt a little ember of warmth glowing between her legs. "Well then, I'd ask you to lift your skirt..." "Lift my skirt!?" "Oh yes, it's not considered a proper spanking here if it's over a skirt or trousers." "Gosh! I see!" she said. It suddenly seemed quite warm in the car and she opened the window a little, the breeze ruffling her russet hair. She stared out of the window at the darkening hedgerows whizzing past and couldn't help picturing herself bent over David's desk, her bottom stuck out, hamstrings stretched painfully, reluctantly easing her skirt up over her thighs as his dark-suited figure loomed in the background. The lovely warm tingly feeling was spreading now. It was dark in the car, and she hoped he didn't notice her as she folded her hands in her lap, exerting a little pressure, right where her body needed it. "Yes, you can imagine how embarrassing that would feel, can't you? Most girls, would be pleading with me to stop at that point." "What... what about my knickers?" she said, her mouth suddenly a little dry, her breathing shallow. They stopped talking for a little as there were a couple of cattle grids on the road at this point. Although David slowed down, the car shuddered loudly as they passed over the first, the vibrations travelled up through the seat, then through her increasingly warm and sticky loins. She had to bite her lip to stop herself uttering a soft moan as the brief but intense juddering fanned the hot sparks of desire between her legs. She uncrossed her legs, letting her hands slip between the soft folds of her skirt as they approached the second and twisted her head away, hoping David wouldn't hear her gasps over the loud rumbling. "I'm sorry? I didn't catch that." "I mean, would I have to take my knickers off too?" she repeated. She couldn't help hoping the answer would be 'yes'. "Well, only if you'd been a really bad girl." As they accelerated away, she felt David's fingers brush against her leg as he smoothly shifted the gear knob into second. In the darkness, she silently wondered how it would feel if he accidentally missed, his hand sliding smoothly up over her leg instead, her thin, summery dress riding up, her hot, moist thighs exposed. She pressed her hands a little deeper, trying to ease the insistent, throbbing pulse between her thighs. "And then you'd spank me?" "Yes, after a few light slaps I find even the most stubborn of girls is begging me to stop." "But what if I wasn't? What else would you do to make sure I'd learnt my lesson?" Florence found herself asking. "Ah, here we are!" David said, as the car came to a stop. "What?" "We're back," he said, switching off the engine and opening his door. The Girls of St Catherine's Bk. 03 Ch. 02 Looking up, Florence realised they were back at the mansion house. She simply hadn't noticed them turn into the long drive and pull up next to Wicklow's MG. "Oh yes, of course," she said, fumbling with her seatbelt then climbing out of the car on slightly unsteady legs and straightening her skirt. "Well I hope that's given you some ideas of how to deal with your more challenging girls," David said. In the semi-darkness, Florence hoped he couldn't see her flushed face as they walked towards the main door, their feet crunching on the gravel. "Yes, thanks, it's been very, um, stimulating," Florence replied. -- Just ahead of them, Jo smiled as Edward followed her up the stairs to her room, as if he were an obedient dog walking to heel. "Well, thanks for seeing me back," she said, turning to face him as she reached her door. "Can't I come in for a minute?" he replied, boyish eagerness etched all over his face. "You know very well us single ladies aren't allowed to have male visitors after ten." "How about a good night kiss then?" he said, leaning towards her. Jo placed a hand on his chest, noting the surprisingly firm hardness beneath his shirt. "Sorry, you know I'm not that kind of girl," she said, grinning. "Come on, we both know exactly what kind of girl you are. Christ, you're such a cock-tease, you drive me crazy," he hissed, looking down at her hand on his chest. He noticed that her nails were painted the same shade of bright pink as her toe-nails. She grinned as she grasped the collar of his colourful, short-sleeved Hawaiian shirt, pulling him down to her level, before planting a chaste kiss on his cheek. "It's just a bit of fun. You know you love it," she whispered, her lips next to his ear. And then she was gone, disappearing into her room, the door slamming in his face. When he got back to his room, he noticed the lipstick mark in his bathroom mirror. A big pink 'O' planted on his cheek. It felt like he'd been branded: "Property of Jo". He wiped it off with a tissue then started to unbutton his shirt. -- Florence rolled over in the darkness, and looked at her bedside clock. Two in the morning, and she still couldn't to get to sleep. Whenever she closed her eyes she kept seeing an image of herself bent over David's desk, her skirt hitched up around her waist. Whimpering slightly as she felt a firm hand in the centre of her shoulders, forcing her down so that she was pinned, her generous boobs crushed against the polished wooden surface. What was happening to her? She wasn't normally this horny, but it felt like every night she found herself lying awake in the early hours, her body longing to be touched. She slid a hand between her thighs as she imagined his lips next to her ear: "I hear you performed a sexual act on your boyfriend in your room. I think we both know that's against the rules. You have been naughty. Exceptionally naughty. Well, badly-behaved girls like you need a bare-bottomed spanking." Florence moaned as she started to stroke herself, imagining strong hands sliding her panties smoothly down over her hips, her buttocks quivering, bare and defenceless as he drew back his hand. -- In his room at the other end of the hallway, Edward couldn't sleep either. It was just so bloody hot again! All those thoughts of what Jo had been up to under the table weren't helping either. He felt his cock thicken, pressing against the thin cotton of his shorts as he recalled the confusing mixture of arousal and helplessness as her wicked toes had teased him, squeezing his hardness beneath the table as he squirmed awkwardly. He couldn't get her mischievous expression out of his mind: her moist pink lips curled into a sweet smile, her blue eyes sparkling impishly as she ignored his intense stare, silently pleading for mercy as she slowly but patiently stroked him to the edge of humiliation. All those thoughts were making him even harder! He hooked his thumbs through the thick waistband of his black shorts and lifted his buttocks, easing them over his hips, his long, slender cock slapping against his flat stomach. All that talk of spanking hadn't helped either. Did they really still do that here? Or was it some kind of practical joke that the older teachers played on the newbies? He'd never spanked anyone before but he certainly knew who he'd want to practice on! He closed his eyes and pictured what should have happened earlier, rewriting history in his head. "You know you love it," she whispered, her lips next to his ear. And then as she retreated through the door, he should have pushed his way in after her, slamming the door shut behind him. "What are you doing? Get out!" she would have shouted, but he'd be a different man. A strong, determined man, understanding what she really wanted, what she needed and ready to give it to her. "You need to be taught a lesson, young lady," he'd say as he sat on the bed. He pictured the look on her face, her mouth and eyes wide open in surprise, as he grabbed her arm and hauled her over his knee. "What are you doing? No!" she'd be squealing as he roughly tugged her denim cut-offs down over bottom and her long legs, revealing pert, tight buttocks bisected by a tiny white thong. "I think you owe me an apology," he'd say as he brought his hand down smartly on her smooth skin. In the humid darkness, Edward ran a finger along the inside of his thighs and gently stroked his balls, as he pictured her wriggling in his lap, her legs kicking wildly, her body quivering as he spanked her again and again, her buttocks glowing first pink then red. He rolled over and fumbled in his top drawer, eventually finding a tube of lubricant and squirting a generous dollop on the swollen head of his prick. It felt lovely and cool against his inflamed skin. "No! Please, I'm sorry," she'd soon be begging breathlessly. "Stop! Please I'll do anything." "Anything, eh? Very well, on your knees then. Let's see you finish what you started earlier," he'd say, an evil grin on his face as he stood and eased his shorts down, his lengthy cock springing free. -- Florence moaned as she spread the soft, moist folds of her pussy and ran a fingertip around her sensitive little clit, round and round in tight little circles till it was pulsing hotly, aching to be touched. In her mind, she heard David's stern voice, slightly breathless after a torrid spanking: "As I say, I'm not sure a spanking's enough punishment in your case, young lady" he'd say, as he slipped a hand between her thighs and slowly ran a finger along her embarrassingly moist cleft. "Please," she'd pant as she heard him unfasten the zipper of his smart navy blue trousers, then tap her ankles with the tip of his shiny black shoes, forcing her to spread her legs even wider. "What a wicked girl you are," he'd grunt as he roughly spread her tender buttocks, exposing the shamefully moist folds of her pussy. -- Edward's cock was very hard now, and he groaned as he wrapped his fingers around his engorged shaft and slowly spread the lube along its considerable length, sliding smoothly along the taut, velvety skin, teasing himself. In his mind, it was Jo's slender fingers. He pictured a contrite Jo looking up at him with her big, cornflower blue eyes, as she began to slowly stroke his silky stiffness. "What do you say?" "I'm sorry I teased you earlier. Please don't spank me again, " she'd reply. "Well, we'll see. If you do a good job, maybe I'll let you off another spanking," he'd say, then groan as she used her free hand to caress his swollen balls. Edward's head rolled back on the pillow, his eyes squeezed shut, his mouth open as he slowly but steadily stroked his oily shaft. He paused briefly, moaning contentedly as he eased the foreskin back over his fat red glans and used his thumb to massage the thick, blunt head, before getting back into his rhythm. Moving slightly faster now as he imagined Jo's soft pink lips sliding smoothly over the tip, her teasing tongue flicking along the little slit at the centre. He could almost hear the helpless little sighs as he grabbed a handful of her fine, blonde hair and eased himself deeper, those blue eyes opening wide as inch after inch of his thick veiny shaft disappeared between her moist pink lips. "What do you say?" he'd ask, as he slowly eased himself out, a thin string of saliva stretching from her lips to the tip of his swollen cock. "Thank-you Sir," she'd simper, and he'd reward her by plunging back in, savouring the silky embrace of those warm, wet lips. He was pumping his cock harder and harder now, the pre-cum spilling from the tip and mixing with the lube as he imagined her sucking at him hungrily, her head bobbing, her little silver earrings swinging. He could feel the tension in his body building, his muscles tightening as he twisted on the bed, straining and sweating his way towards the pinnacle of pleasure. As he neared orgasm, he'd extract his ready-to-explode cock from her lips and stand over her. "Tell me what you want," he'd pant as he feverishly jerked it. "Please cum on my face Sir, cum all over me," she'd say obediently. The image of her kneeling before him submissively, her head tilted back, mouth open, eyes shut, her little pink tongue extended brought him right to the edge. "Oh God!" he wailed as with a final flurry of strokes he was there, his orgasm intensified by the mental image of generous globs of his pearly spunk splashing on Jo's smooth cheeks, her forehead, her blonde hair. "Thank-you Sir," he heard her sweet voice whisper, fading away into the darkness as he slowly regained his breath. -- At the same moment, Florence's young body jerked abruptly as she came too, her fists gripping the damp sheets, her head thrashing against her pillow, her chest heaving as she sucked in the still, humid air, her hot flesh finally sated. For tonight anyway. The Girls of St Catherine's Bk. 03 Ch. 03 Highland Games (Part 3) ----------- Saturday, 19 September ----------- Edward walked back and forth examining himself in the mirror, feeling the rough, thick material of his brand-new kilt brush against the sensitive head of his cock. Although it came down to below his knees, it just didn't feel right. Surely it wasn't decent. He just felt too exposed. What if he fell over whilst attempting one of those complicated Scottish dances? How embarrassing would that be? It just didn't seem hygienic to have your bits flopping about under there. "No," he mumbled as he pulled on a pair of boxer shorts, "I don't care what the girls say, it's just not British." -- "You think they're okay? You don't think they're a bit tacky?" Jo said, dangling the scanty underwear in front of Florence. They were in Florence's room, an hour before the party was due to officially start, still trying to decide on exactly what they'd wear. "No, I think they're, you know, fun," Florence said, watching Jo swing the tiny tartan g-string and matching bra from her fingers. "Hmm, perhaps it'll help if I put them on," Jo said, still undecided as she unzipped her skin-tight jeans and wriggled them down over her slim hips. Florence sipped her wine, and glanced out of the window as she waited for Jo to undress again. Outside it was a fine, still evening, the sky clear with just a few wisps of distant cloud on the horizon, faint brush-strokes of pink on a darkening lavender background. Some workmen had finished putting up the large marquee earlier, and now she watched as waiters and waitresses in their crisp white shirts and black trousers scurried to and from the canteen, ferrying large trays of Scottish salmon, scotch pies and mini-haggises. Through the open window, she could hear the ceilidh band warming up, the discordant sounds of the fiddle and accordion carried on the warm breeze. There were already a few people down below her window, small knots of teachers carrying glasses of wine or clutching bottles of Scottish lager, and she was glad to see that, to some degree, they'd all made attempts at wearing their interpretation of traditional Scottish dress. Of course, some people were naturally less traditional than others she thought as she glanced over at the brightly coloured jumble of Jo's clothes, lying scattered over her bed. "Gosh, Jo, you have such a lovely body. I wish I was as lean and fit as you are," Florence said a little enviously as she eyed Jo's trim body. It was the first time she'd seen Jo naked and how she envied her friend's tight little bum and sleek thighs. She couldn't help noticing that her friend was a natural blonde, with a thin, neatly-trimmed strip of blonde hair at the junction of her long, tanned legs. "Thanks, I think it helps being a PE teacher. I put it all down to regular exercise. You should come jogging with me sometime, it does wonders for your thighs and bum," Jo said, as she bent at the waist and stepped daintily into the skimpy pants, sliding them smoothly up over her calves. "You know you're right, I will come with you one morning. Not tomorrow though, I'm planning on having a few bevvies tonight. Anyway, I'm not sure I'll ever be as lovely and slim as you." "Well yes, it's great being slim, but sometimes I wish I had a few more curves like you. Men like women to look a little, well, womanly, don't they?" Jo continued, sliding her bra up over her arms, and reaching behind her back to fasten it. "I suppose." "And you've got great boobs, I'd love to have boobs like yours," Jo said. "I bet your boyfriend loves them, doesn't he?" "I guess," Florence replied, although she couldn't remember the last time Derek had complimented her. "Anyway, what do you think?" Jo said, turning to face her. Florence regarded her new friend, standing hands on hips, awaiting her verdict. Florence had to admit she looked very sexy, the underwear clinging tightly to her athletic frame and enhancing her figure. Her g-string was just a thin triangle of red-and-black tartan held in place with slender strips of black lace, barely hiding the tight golden curls of her pubic hair. Her matching half-cup bra was just as skimpy, clinging to small, cupcake breasts that sat high on her ribcage. Florence wasn't a lesbian but when Jo turned to examine herself in the full-length mirror, she had to sit on her hands to stop herself reaching out and squeezing her friend's flawless bottom, just to see if her buttocks were as firm and tight as they looked. "I think you look great, I reckon you'll be fighting off a bunch of horny kilt-wearing men by the end of the night," she concluded. "That's the idea, and I'm not planning on fighting too hard," Jo said, glancing over her shoulder and winking. -- One hour and a bottle of wine later, the girls were nearly ready. Florence had intended to wear a very traditional Scottish dress; a heavy ankle-length tartan skirt and a frilly white blouse, with an elaborate ruby broach holding it closed at the neck and a broad matching sash. After a couple of glasses of wine though, she'd let Jo talk her into wearing a quite low-cut, less conservative green-and-black above-the-knee tartan dress, cinched at the waist so that it emphasized what Jo called her 'feminine figure'. "Don't you think I should wear a pair of tights with this?" she'd asked tugging the hem towards her knees as they examined her in the mirror, but Jo had just laughed. Jo had tried on a few outfits but had finally settled on a simple, black, short-sleeved top over a red-and-black tartan mini-skirt that emphasized the length of her shapely legs. "Cheers," Florence said, chinking her glass against Jo's as they examined themselves in the mirror. "Cheers. Here's to fighting off hordes of horny, kilt-wearing men, eh?" the blonde replied. They were just about to drain their glasses and leave when there was a faint, hesitant knocking at the door. "Come in, join the party," Florence shouted. "Hi, hey, you ladies look lovely," Edward said, stepping through the door. Florence watched as his eyes darted around the room taking in the empty wine bottle on the table and their slightly flushed faces. "Wow, you don't look too bad yourself," Jo giggled. He'd clearly made quite an effort and was clothed head-to-toe in the full, traditional Scottish dress; a knee-length green-and-red tartan kilt, the black jacket over a white dress shirt, the knee-length black socks, even a sporran. "Gosh, someone's looking very Scottish!" Florence said. He looked so serious, and somehow couldn't help giggling, although perhaps that was more to do with the amount of wine she'd consumed. "Is it okay then? You're Scottish, Florence, what do you think? Do I look like a real Scot?" he said, a broad smile on his lips, obviously proud of his effort. "Well, it all seems to be in place. The Argyll jacket, the white shirt," she said, stepping closer and fingering the jacket. "And it looks like a genuine kilt, this looks great," Jo said. She moved closer too, her fingers sliding over the thick fabric. "Well then ladies, if you think I'll do, shall we head downstairs?" Edward said happily. "Talking of downstairs, there is one thing we need to check though," Jo said, putting her wine glass down and winking at Florence. "Oh yes, one very important thing, I mean it looks like a genuine kilt but..." Florence said, grinning as she realised what Jo meant. "What?" "We need to check you're wearing the kilt in the traditional way," Jo said, running a finger along one of the pleats in the rough fabric. "Yes, come on, have you got anything on underneath?" Florence asked. "Underneath? Um, well, of course not," Edward said, backing away until his back pressed against the door. "Well, I don't think we can just take his word for it, do you Florence?" Jo said, smiling as she playfully tugged at his kilt. "Quite right Jo, I think it's vital we check," Florence grinned as she slid the hem up over a hairy knee. "Come on girls, enough games. Let's get to the party and get on with the drinking, eh?" Edward said hopefully, although it was clear they'd already had a couple of glasses. He squirmed uncomfortably, his hands clasping the hem of his kilt as the girls tried to slide it up over his legs. Soon they were performing an odd little dance, Edward hopping from foot to foot trying to evade their grasping hands as the two young women skipped around him, tugging at his kilt. "Come on Edward, don't be shy, we just want a little look," Jo said, laughing as she grabbed a handful of tartan material, revealing his pale, hairy thighs. "Yes, come on," Florence added as she grabbed one of his wrists. "Just a wee look." "Wait! Please, ladies, " Edward gasped, shrieking girlishly as he felt one of Jo's slender hands slide beneath the tartan material and pinch his buttocks. "Oh, Edward! What a cheat!" she exclaimed. "Och, he's not wearing pants is he?" "I'm afraid so," Jo said. "Perhaps we should remove them. What do you think, Florence?" "Well yes, we Scots take this very seriously. I don't think we can let this go," Florence replied, holding both of Edward's wrists now as he desperately tried to twist away. "Come on Jo, get 'em off." "Come on girls, don't be silly. Come on, you've had your fun," Edward said nervously, tugging one of his hands free and fumbling behind him for the door knob. "Oh, come on! It'll just take a minute," Jo giggled, reaching beneath his kilt and tugging at the waistband of his shorts. With a strangled cry, Edward finally managed to twist free and open the door. Florence and Jo watched as he stumbled back through the door and scurried away down the corridor. They watched him go then turned to each other and fell back onto the bed, laughing loudly. Laughing and laughing, until they felt giddy and breathless. -- As evening turned to night, large overhead lights turned night to day and strings of coloured bulbs strung amongst the bushes lit the pathways. By now, the ceilidh band was in full swing, the lively sounds of the accordion and drums echoing off the walls of the old school. Florence tapped her foot along in time with the band as she waited for Jo to return with fresh drinks. In front of the band, a 'caller' was trying to organise the dancers, shouting directions as they attempted a dance called 'Strip the Willow'. The men and women had formed two separate lines facing each other and she clapped along with the music, as couples took turns to twirl up and down the gap in the middle. The traditional music and bright swirling colours of the kilts transported her back to her childhood. She hadn't tried 'Strip the Willow' since she was a schoolgirl, but as she watched the other party-goers laughing and dancing she wished Derek was here so she could participate. Although, thinking about it, he wasn't keen on dancing so maybe she was better off without him. In the middle of it all, she spotted Edward spinning his way down the line with Annabel Hunter, the biology teacher, and felt relieved that he looked like he was having fun. The more she thought about it, the more she felt guilty about what had happened earlier. Looking back, she realised she'd acted like a bully. What if it had been the other way around: two men groping a woman? Two drunken men asking if she was wearing underwear? It would surely have been classed as sexual harassment, and she resolved to apologise the next time she saw him. As she pondered the best way to say sorry, Jo returned with two more whisky cocktails. "You look thoughtful," she said. "Aye, I just spotted Edward down there, you know I think we may have been a little over-the-top with him earlier," Florence replied as she sipped her drink. "In your room? We were just having a bit of fun with him, weren't we?" Jo said, sipping her cocktail. "I'm not sure, don't you think we were a bit, you know, aggressive? Maybe we should apologise." "Apologise? Come on, we were just having a laugh." "You know, I don't think he finds it as much of a laugh as you do. Why do you tease him so much, anyway?" "Oh, come on Florence, it's just a bit of fun. I reckon he likes the attention. I bet he enjoys it as much as me." "I wouldn't be so sure; I think you're playing with fire." "Playing with fire? Edward? Come on, he's harmless." "Well, I'm just saying, sometimes it's the quiet ones you need to watch." They paused, lost for a moment in their own thoughts as the song finished, and the raucous cheers and applause drowned out any chance of continuing their conversation. Florence noticed Jo smiling at someone behind her, then leaning in close. "Don't look now, but I think we've got a couple of admirers," she whispered as the band paused to take some drinks. Despite herself, Florence couldn't help glancing over her shoulder and quickly spotted David Lean and Alec Sanders, the history teacher. They'd both made the effort to dress for the occasion: David was wearing a green-and-purple kilt beneath a smart navy jacket, and Mr Sanders a red-and-black kilt with matching tie, over a plain white shirt. They both smiled and nodded as they noticed her staring, and she quickly turned away. "They're coming over," hissed Jo, a note of suppressed excitement in her voice, her red lips stretching into a smile. "Evening ladies," Mr Sanders said smoothly. "Hello David, Mr Sanders," Jo replied. "Call me Alec, please." Florence turned, trying to act surprised as the two men appeared next to her. "Evening Jo, evening Florence. Well, don't you two young ladies look lovely tonight?" David said smoothly. "Thanks," Florence said, feeling her cheeks redden. She seemed to have spent a lot of her time blushing recently! "We were just wondering if you'd like to dance," Alec said. "I've love to," Jo said, taking his arm and leading him towards the band. "Come on, I've been dying to have a go," David said, smiling and offering his arm as Florence hesitated. "Och, go on then, " she said finally. The caller was a short, jolly-looking young woman standing on a box, trying to make herself seen and heard amongst the wheeling throngs of people. She announced that the first, rather chaotic, attempt at 'Strip the Willow' was just a practice, and that they'd be attempting it again now they were properly warmed up. Florence stood opposite David, shifting her weight from foot to foot in time with the music as they watched and soon Jo and Alec were dancing down the line, linking arms and spinning around each person in the two parallel lines. Alec was in his forties, tall and broad-shouldered with a neat goatee, dark brown hair greying at the temples and cool grey eyes. Florence guessed he hadn't tried Scottish dancing before as she watched him laughing and spinning his way towards her, looking more than a little un-coordinated. Jo seemed to be enjoying it immensely, throwing her head back and whooping loudly as successive men spun her around towards the end of the line. As each couple spun down the line, Florence and David moved one closer to the end and suddenly it was their turn. She had to grab David and swing him around, pointing him in the right direction. Soon though, he got the hang of it and he was grasping her wrists in his strong hands and spinning her around expertly. Florence's initial reluctance quickly faded as they cycled through all the dances she learned at school: the Gay Gordons, the Anniversary Reel, Speed the Plough. She remembered being embarrassed back then, when she was nine or ten, being forced to dance with boys but now she was thoroughly enjoying herself. As the night wore on,and the Scottish-themed cocktails kept coming she couldn't help having a few adolescent thoughts about the young men swinging her round with their beefy arms or grasping her hips in their strong hands. How many of them, she wondered, were naked under their kilts? -- Jo was also enjoying herself, dancing on and on as the night grew darker and the pale, silvery disk of the moon rose behind the trees. She hardly noticed it getting a little colder, a cool breeze stirring the leaves of the trees. "Phew!" Jo panted, sweeping her blonde hair away from her damp forehead as the band finished another song then joining in with the applause. She felt like she'd been dancing for hours, and although she'd worn some sensible shoes (well, for her anyway), her feet were beginning to ache. Her head was spinning and she felt a little giddy, although she was sure whether that was because of her amateurish but energetic dancing or the proximity of Alec. He was exactly the kind of suave, good-looking, tall, worldly-wise older man that she'd always found attractive. It was just a shame he was married, she thought as she noticed his thick gold wedding band catching the light. It was pretty clear he found her attractive too, judging by the way he'd kept stealing glances at her legs as he spun her round, her short skirt flaring, and revealing tantalising glimpses of her toned thighs. "Grab your partners for the last dance of the evening please!" the caller shouted. "Shall we?" he said, a firm hand sliding around her slender waist and inviting to step forward with him. "Actually, I think I might give it a miss, I'm exhausted! Really hot too!" she gasped. "Perhaps we ought to take a stroll down by the river, it'll be cooler down there," he said, dropping his voice and leaning towards her. She caught the faint aroma of his spicy after-shave and the glint in his intensely grey eyes. "Was this really a good idea?" Jo thought to herself as she let Alec take her hand and lead her away from the light, away from the noise of the dancers chattering excitedly as they formed squares for the final dance. "So, um, where's your wife this evening?" she said. "Oh, she rarely comes to these occasions, she's not really the partying type. But let's talk about you, how are you finding it here?" Jo said some pleasantly bland things about the school and the other teachers as they strolled by the river and by the time they got to the old boathouse she realised he was right, it was cooler down here. Quiet and secluded too. "So I hear you've been checking that the men have been dressing in the traditional Scottish way," he said, a crooked smile forming on his lips. "Oh, you heard about that! We were just having a bit..." she replied. She never got to finish the sentence; as they slipped behind the boathouse he gently but firmly tugged at her wrist, drawing her to him, his lips suddenly pressed against hers. He was a good kisser and she heard herself moaning, low in her throat as his tongue slipped between her lips. "Gosh, you don't waste any time!" she gasped, pulling away. "So you were just having a bit of fun with young Edward?" he said, his lips leaving a trail of soft kisses along her neck. "Mmm," she moaned happily. "Perhaps you'd like to check I'm dressed appropriately," he whispered, his lips sucking gently at her earlobe and drawing her hand against his firm thigh. She could feel the warmth through his kilt. She drew back a little, one hand on his chest, and their eyes met. There was a faint smile on his lips and his twinkling eyes seemed to be daring her. "Maybe I will," she replied. Jo slipped a hand beneath the thick tartan material and slowly ran it up over his thighs, her eyes never leaving his. She bit her lip as she inched her hand higher, over the lightly-haired thighs to the smooth, hard muscle of his buttocks, feeling a little frisson of excitement as she realised he was quite naked. She watched him close his eyes, feel his body quiver as she squeezed his firm buttocks, then ran her hand around to the front, lightly cradling his swollen balls, feeling the soft fuzz of his pubic hair. The Girls of St Catherine's Bk. 03 Ch. 03 His cock was already thick, semi-erect and she heard him let out a long, low groan as she cradled it in her hand, feeling the warm, throbbing weight in her palm. "Does everything seem to be in order?" he asked, a little breathlessly. "Oh yes, very much so," Jo replied, her white teeth glowing in the moonlight as she slid her fingertips along the taut, velvety skin, feeling it lengthen and thicken excitingly. -- Florence laughed giddily as the final round of applause for the band faded and David turned to her and bowed. "Thank you for the dances, Lady Florence," he said, formally. "No, no, thank-you, Sir David," Florence said, panting a little as she performed a slightly wobbly curtsy. She was still a little out of breath from all the dancing and as she straightened she noticed David's eyes lingering over her cleavage, watching it swell against her low-cut top as she sucked in lungfuls of the cool night air. Florence stood, looking around her for a moment, watching the crowd start to disperse, people saying their goodbyes and heading towards the car park and the manor house. "May I escort you back to the house?" David said, offering his hand. "Thank you, kind Sir," Florence said, giggling girlishly as she took his hand. As they started back, she saw Edward emerge from the crowd and spot her. She wondered if this would be a good time to apologise but he looked like he was in a hurry. Perhaps it would be better to wait until the morning when they were both sober. "Have you seen Jo?" he said. "Oh, I think I saw her heading down towards the river, I think she was getting a little too hot," she replied. "Great, thanks," he said, before striding off into the darkness. "I wonder what that's about," David said. Florence just shrugged, although she had a pretty good idea. He looked angry. -- Edward had been stewing all evening, and the more he drank, the more annoyed he became. The more determined that all this fooling around should end tonight. How dare Jo treat him like this? She'd been teasing and taunting him since they met, but this evening was easily the worst. Now she seemed to be including Florence in her little games, doubling his humiliation! Well he'd kept quiet for too long and now it was time to stop. It was high time he gave her a piece of his mind. He strode through the darkness, his steps silent on the worn grassy path as he headed down the riverbank, in the vague direction indicated by Florence. He paused when he got near the boathouse. Was that the sound of someone moaning? Was someone down there? -- Jo smiled, enjoying the sound of Alec's lusty groans as she wrapped her fingers around his engorged shaft and slowly stroked him to full hardness. She tilted her head back and pressed her soft lips against his, feeling slightly giddy as they shared a series of warm, whisky-flavoured kisses. It was very quiet down here, just the distant sound of the crowds drifting home further up the bank, and the soft lapping of the river against the bank. Alec was leaning back against the shed, one hand lifting his kilt high over his stomach, revealing a good-sized cock, long and slightly curved. Jo smiled as she felt it swell and pulse under her fingers, running her thumb over the swollen, angry red head, spreading his juices along his shaft, till the whole length glistened in the silvery moonlight. Alec's other hand slid beneath Jo's skirt and the simmering heat she'd been feeling all evening threatened to catch fire as he squeezed her taut derriere. She knew she shouldn't be doing this. Intimately caressing a married man, out here in public! It was so wrong, so naughty, so dangerous. Anyone could walk past and catch them, but of course, that's what made it so thrilling. She knew she should try and keep quiet but she couldn't suppress a loud sigh as she felt his searching fingers slide between her tight buttocks and start to stroke her pussy through the narrow gusset of her skimpy tartan panties. -- Edward grinned as he watched the couple behind the boathouse, their bodies undulating together in the darkness. He could just about make out their shapes against the river, its silky ripples shimmering in the moonlight. How wicked! He wondered who they were? Could they be members of staff? He crouched and crawled forward a few steps, hiding behind the trunk of a large tree. He pushed his glasses up over his nose, and peered into the darkness. Although he couldn't make out their faces, it was pretty clear what they were up to! He felt his cock stir as he watched the woman's hand moving rhythmically as the man leaned back against the wooden boards of the old boathouse. The young woman certainly seemed to know what she was doing. He watched as the man threw his head back, a low husky moan escaping his lips if he were a wolf howling at the moon. The woman seemed to be enjoying herself too. He could just about make out the man's hand underneath her skirt, moving in time with hers. Their voices were getting louder now, and now he'd moved closer he could just about make out what they were saying. "Yes, yes, don't stop, don't stop, Jo," the man pleaded urgently as her hand began to move faster. "Jo?" he thought, and just then she turned so that the moonlight caught her blonde hair and he knew. It was her, it was Jo and Alec, the history teacher! The married history teacher! The smile quickly disappeared from his lips. All those times, she'd led him on only to turn him down at the last moment and now this! He'd caught her having sex with someone she barely knew. And he was married! As he slipped away back to the house, his cock deflated as his anger swelled, his mind racing. The horny little cock-tease desperately really needed to be taught a lesson. How could she do this to him? -- "Oh God, Jo, don't stop, it's so good," he was moaning urgently now. Jo began to jerk him harder, sensing he was close. In truth, she was beginning to sober up now and was trying to bring him off quickly. Now that he was close he'd stopped caressing her and was solely focussed on his own pleasure, which seemed a bit selfish. Her wrist was beginning to ache and she almost felt like walking away but that would be cruel now he was so close. She didn't want to get a reputation as a prick-tease, although she knew that's exactly what Edward thought of her. "Please, please!" he was panting as she felt his cock throb as she stroked him harder and harder. Ah, poor innocent, good-natured Edward. She suddenly wished it was Edward that she was pleasuring. Perhaps Florence was right, perhaps she did owe him something. Perhaps she had been treating him badly. Alec's strangled cry of pleasure brought her back to reality and she watched, fascinated, as he suddenly came, his body shuddering, his hips jerking, his balls contracting and shooting a jet of warm, pearly spunk from his cock which splashed over her wrist and skirt as he moaned contentedly. -- "Can I come in for a minute?" David said. "I'm really not sure that's a good idea, David," Florence said. They were standing outside her room, and she was feeling a little awkward. What should happen now? Did they shake hands? That seemed a bit formal. Did he expect a kiss? she wondered, her heart beating a little faster. "OK, well, goodnight then," he said, and suddenly his arm was around her waist, drawing her against his firm body, her head tilting back as their lips met. She suddenly felt light-headed, like she was floating, as he kissed her plump lips, her cheek, her shoulders. She shivered as his warm lips brushed against that delicious spot on her neck and she hardly noticed as he guided her back into her room, and the discrete little zip at the back of her dress slid smoothly down over her back. -- "Perhaps we should continue the party back in your room," Alec suggested, his hand giving her bottom a friendly squeeze as they walked back up the lawns towards the manor house. "Listen, tonight's been fun Alec, but I'm a bit tired so perhaps it's best if we call it a night now," Jo said. "Are you sure?" he said, unable to hide his disappointment. "Yes, I'm sure, but thanks for taking me dancing, it was lovely," she said, kissing him on the cheek. -- Florence writhed on the bed clad in just her lace-edged white underwear, her hands clasping at the cool sheets as David lips trailed over the plump curves of her semi-naked body, leaving a trail of fiery tingles in his wake. His eager lips pressed against hers as they shared a series of hungry, alcoholic kisses and she felt his hands sliding up over the rounded swell of her belly and caressing her boobs through her flimsy bra. "David, I'm not sure..." Florence heard herself saying as she felt his fingers sliding up over her back, deftly unfastening her bra, but he ignored her, sliding it off her arms and tossing it onto the floor beside her discarded dress. She watched a wicked smile form on his lips as she modestly crossed her arms across her ample cleavage. Then she was uttering a helpless mew of surrender as he gently but firmly grasped her wrists and placed them above her head, pressing them firmly into the pillow, pinning her. "You have such lovely breasts, don't hide them," he said, as Florence closed her eyes to avoid his intense, burning eyes roaming over her nakedness and felt his eager lips kiss their way along the slope of her newly-naked breasts. She felt her skin tingle, her nipples beginning to come to life as he kissed and licked her plump, smooth flesh. "Oh God, David," she gasped as he squeezed one of her ample boobs into a tight cone, unhurriedly drawing his tongue across one of her aching nipples, patiently coaxing it into a tight little peak and sending hot electric tingles of pleasure straight between her thighs. -- Jo walked slowly back to her room, a sense of anti-climax making the stairs seem steeper than she remembered. Back in her dark, empty room, she sat heavily on the bed, switching on the little bedside light as she removed her earrings. "There should be some hunky young man helping me do this," she thought to herself as she undressed, unhappily kicking her painfully tight shoes off her swollen feet, then pulling her clingy black top up over her head. It was quiet now, just the distant sound of cars exiting the school and the light clinking of glassware, as the waiters cleared away the debris outside her window. But there was something else too, a faint but distinct sound of someone moaning coming from through the wall. Jo couldn't resist pressing her ear to the plaster and listening. It was Florence's voice! And judging from the sounds she was making, she was having a much better night than Jo! Who would have thought shy, innocent Florence would end the night cheating on her boyfriend with David? "Oh, Florence, you naughty girl!" Jo whispered excitedly, as she held her breath, listening intently. She'd have to make sure she quizzed Florence all about it over breakfast the next morning! The gossip around the female staff was that David was a bit of an animal in bed and Jo felt a tiny pang of jealousy in amongst the happiness for her friend as the sounds grew a little louder. She unfastened her lacy little tartan bra, slipping it off her long arms and lying back on the bed as Florence's contented groans started to grow louder and more urgent. The riverside encounter with Alec had, literally, been an anti-climax. His rough caresses had been enough to prime her body for passion, without providing her with a satisfactory conclusion. She stretched out on the bed, the sheets pleasantly cool against her warm, bare skin as she trailed her fingertips up over her flat stomach, the swell of her pert boobs. As her fingers circled her already erect nipples, she closed her eyes and imagined all the disgusting, lewd things that lusty David was doing to poor, young Florence... -- "Oh God!" Florence was gasping, her back arching up off the bed, her long, glossy hair spread over the pillows like spilled red wine on a white tablecloth. David was lying alongside her, his mouth clamped over one of her ample boobs, his cheeks hollowed as he drew the plump flesh into his warm mouth, his tongue flicking over her almost painfully hard nipple. His hand was between her thighs, cupping her mound, circling slowly, the white cotton of her sensible Marks and Spencers briefs pressed deep into the channel of her sex. She was so wet now, her soaked-through briefs moulding to the shape of her swollen labia. Florence squirmed happily on the bed, arms above her head, legs wantonly splayed, her nerve endings tingling wildly as his fingers and tongue explored her wetness. She uttered a series of strangled cries, panting hotly, as his thumb found the hard, little nub at the top of her juicy slit and began to gently tease it through the damp lace. Then she was lifting her hips obediently as she felt him tug her panties over her rounded hips, impatiently tossing them aside, to join the rest of her clothes on the floor. She felt her cheeks colour as he eased her knees even wider apart, pausing as he examined her nakedness, her fleshy thighs, little drops of dewy nectar clinging to the tight copper curls of her pubic hair and shivering with barely suppressed excitement as he kissed his way along the inside of her thigh and started licking the very centre of her wetness. She lay back, surrendering to the sheer decadent pleasure and wondering if any man had ever examined her so intimately before. Maybe her gynaecologist, but certainly not Derek. Although he'd occasionally stroked her down there, he'd never used his tongue. Never eased her labia apart, and hungrily lapped at the juicy flesh within, as David was doing now. Never ran the pad of his thumb over the little bud at the top of her slit till she begged for more. Never gently stroked and teased it till it was hard and throbbing, as her hands clutched at the sheets and her head thrashed against the pillow. Derek had never kept patiently stroking and licking and caressing her hot, wet centre till she was panting with hungry desire, her muscles straining, her body tensing. Stroking and stroking her till she couldn't take any more and she was cumming, crying out helplessly as her body sang with pleasure. As she slowly returned to earth, she propped her head up on a pillow and watched through half-open eyes as David lifted his kilt to reveal his very thick, very erect cock. "Oh my," Florence sighed as she wrapped her arms around his neck and felt his weight between her hot thighs, pinning her against the mattress. -- Next door, Jo's sticky fingers strummed her pussy, massaging her hot swollen fleshy lips in tight circles. "Oh God," she panted, feeling herself approaching her own happy ending as she used her free hand to stimulate one of her hard little nipples, squeezing it between thumb and forefinger. Through the thin wall, she could hear Florence's voice becoming steadily louder and higher-pitched as wicked David pleasured her. She wondered what he was doing: was he knelt between her thighs, his wicked tongue expertly teasing Florence's yielding flesh? Or perhaps he was fucking her doggy style, her friend on all fours moaning helplessly as he drove his lovely long dick deep between her fleshy buttocks? Or perhaps Florence was on top, her ample boobs jiggling as she bounced up and down, impaling herself on his hardness. The sound of a long, almost animal-like cry of ecstasy, signalled a happy ending for Florence and triggered Jo's orgasm too, her lithe body jerking and twisting as her night of frustration ended in a single moment of sublime pleasure. -- "Wow, three orgasms! Three scrummy, genuinely earth-shattering orgasms! That's more orgasms with David in one night than I've had in the two years I've been with Derek!" Florence thought to herself as the sound of light snoring signalled David drifting off to sleep, finally sated after his night's work. Who'd have known that he'd be so good in bed: patient and tender at first, as he slowly brought her body to boiling point then rough and passionate when she most needed it. It wasn't just the sex; David had been charming and funny and generous. She still felt bad about cheating on her boyfriend, but perhaps, she reasoned, if he made more of an effort she wouldn't have been so tempted. So really it was his own fault, wasn't it? Yes, she persuaded herself, if he genuinely wanted her as a girlfriend he would surely have tried harder. She felt tired now; tired and aching slightly from all of the imaginative and deeply satisfying positions David had placed her in whilst making love. As she surrendered to sleep, she resolved to call him over the next few days and break it off. The truth was she hadn't been happy for some time and tonight had just confirmed what she'd suspected for some time, their relationship wasn't really working. He'd be upset, but she just couldn't pretend any longer now that David had opened her eyes, showed her what she'd been missing. The Girls of St Catherine's Bk. 03 Ch. 04 Highland Games (Part 4) ----------- Friday, 25 September ----------- "So is anyone else coming this evening?" Florence asked. "I don't think Wicklow is. David says he's become a bit obsessed with chat rooms on the internet," Jo replied, draining her glass of white wine. "Wicklow's obsessed with internet chat rooms?" Florence said, a little surprised. Although when she thought about it, he always struck her as a man with plenty of secrets. They were sitting inside the public bar at the Fox and Hounds, in one of the corner booths. Florence was seated a padded wooden bench, her back to the wall. She'd come straight from the classroom and was wearing a sensible black skirt, and a quite low-cut powder blue blouse. She swirled the remainder of her wine around the glass while David waited to be served at the bar. "How about Edward?" Jo asked. "He told me he was coming, he should be here by now," Florence said, glancing at her slim gold watch. "So have you spoken to him since Saturday?" "I saw him yesterday," Florence said, leaning forward and lowering her voice a little so they couldn't be overheard. "I took him to one side and apologised. I just said, we had a little too much wine, and got a bit over-excited. He seemed to be okay with it." "Did he say anything about me?" "No... not particularly." Jo frowned. "I've been trying to apologise to him all week, but he keeps avoiding me, I think he's quite angry." "Well I did warn you," Florence said, glancing over towards the bar where David was still waiting. "Okay, well, maybe I'll take him to one side and apologise when he turns up. Anyway, tell me about you and David, are you two a bit of an item now? Did he spend the night on Saturday?" Jo said, already knowing the answer, a grin spreading across her face and exposing her spotlessly white teeth. "Maybe..." Florence said, a coy smile forming on her pink lips as she ran a finger around the rim of her wine glass. "Come on, don't be such a tease! Tell me! I need to hear all the really sordid, disgusting details," Jo whispered. "Well he might have stayed for a nightcap," she said, grinning. "A nightcap? That's a new word for it!" Florence just grinned. "Come on, tell me! I hear he's great in bed, is that true. Is he a bit of an animal?" Jo continued, her cornflower eyes gleaming. "Maybe," Florence repeated, smiling happily and nodding as her cheeks flushed bright red. "Did you, you know...?" Jo said. "What?" "You know, did you experience the big 'O'?" Jo said, leaning a long way forward now, hoarsely whispering the last four words. "Jo! You're terrible!" she whispered. She started giggling hysterically, her hand clamped over her mouth. Her eyes filled with tears as she held up three fingers. "Three times!" Jo whispered, as her eyebrows nearly shot off the top of her head, her mouth forming a perfect 'O'. "What naughty, lucky girl you are!" "Well, what are you two lovely young ladies talking about?" David said, as he placed two fresh glasses of pinot noir on the table. "Nothing," Florence said, feeling her cheeks burn as she tried to suppress another fit of giggles. "Nothing, eh?" David said. "Oh look, here's Edward!" she exclaimed, grateful for the distraction. Jo stood up as he approached them. "Hi Edward," she said, brightly. "Can I have a word with you in private?" -- As Edward followed Jo into the saloon bar on the other side of the pub, David slipped in beside Florence on the padded bench. "What's up with those two?" he said. "Oh, I'm not sure. Maybe Jo's upset him." "Wouldn't surprise me, she's quite a tease. I'm surprised Edward puts up with it." "Mmm," Florence replied, as if she hadn't noticed. "So come on then, what were you two girls talking about?" "Just girly stuff, you know." "Girly stuff? Come on, it was about us, wasn't it? I could see you blushing from the bar." "Well, she might have asked about Saturday night." "So what did you tell her? Come on, tell me," he said, making her giggle by gently digging her in the ribs. "Well, maybe I told her what an animal you were in bed," she said, feeling a little giddy. The wine seemed to have gone straight to her head. Was it the wine, or was it Jo's influence that was causing her feel so flirty and light-headed recently? "Come on, stop fooling around," David complained. "Maybe I told her how you were stark naked underneath your kilt," Florence whispered, her lips next to David's ear, her hand squeezing his thigh beneath the table. "Really?" he said, feeling a little tingle of arousal as Florence's hand slid up over his leg. "Or maybe I told her you were hung like a donkey," she whispered as she ran her fingers over the growing bulge in his jeans, noting the tightness of the denim. "Come on, Florence, not here," he hissed, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. The bar wasn't very busy, just an old couple over by the window and a young man playing with his mobile, but he still couldn't believe how wicked she was being. "What's the matter, don't you like it?" she said, flashing him an innocent smile as she felt his cock stir. "It feels like you're enjoying it." "Come on, let's go back, and we can have an early night," he gasped, feeling her fingers trailing along the growing bulge. "But I haven't finished my wine." "Come on, don't be such a tease," he groaned, as he felt her fingers squeezing his cock through the taut denim. "Maybe I like being a tease, maybe I should be more like Jo," she said. "Maybe I should pull you over my knee and teach you a lesson, young lady," he said, a little breathlessly. "Promises, promises," she muttered, smiling innocently as she continued to slowly stroke him. -- After Edward had bought himself a pint, Jo led him to a table in the corner of the saloon, away from the other customers. She needed to have a serious chat with him and wanted a bit of privacy. "Listen Edward, I need to have a word with you about Saturday night," she started to say as he sat opposite her, carefully placing his pint glass in the centre of a beer mat. "Yes, Saturday night." he interrupted. "I saw you, you know." "You saw me? What do you mean, 'saw me'?" "I saw you with him, Alec," Edward said, grimacing as if his name tasted bitter on his lips. "When? Where?" Jo replied, her mind racing, her palms suddenly damp. "You know where. Behind the old boathouse, after the dancing." "You can't have!" Jo snapped, her mind refusing to accept it. "But I did. I saw you, you know, touching him. You know he's a married man right?" "Come on, it was nothing. Look, I had a lot to drink; we just got a little carried away." "I doubt if Mrs Sanders would say it was nothing. I imagine she'd be very angry if she somehow found out about you fooling around with her husband." "Look, I know you're angry but I swear it was just a, you know, hand job," she whispered, leaning forward. "It never went any further, I swear." "Well, I only have your word for that, don't I?" he said, sipping his bitter. "Come on, Edward. You know I was a bit drunk that night. Please, you wouldn't really tell his wife, would you?" Edward sat back in his chair, enjoying her discomfort. He'd spent all week thinking about this moment and he was determined to make her suffer a little. Of course, she was right, he would never actually tell Alec's wife, that was going too far, but he was enjoying watching her squirm too much to let her know that. He was finding that the old saying was right after all: revenge really was best served cold. He stared across the table at her as he pretended to ponder her question. The sexy thing about Jo was that despite being such a bad girl she looked so innocent with her flawless, fair complexion, those large, pale blue eyes and that halo of honey-coloured hair. This impression was emphasized by the clothes she was wearing this evening. She'd come straight from the leading the hockey training and was wearing a cool, mint green v-neck t-shirt with the school logo over the swell of her left breast, tucked into a short, pleated, forest green skirt. "You remember that last time we were here together? Do you remember what you were doing?" he asked, slipping off his sandal and gently stroking her beneath the table. "Yes, and I really ought to say sorry. I was just having a bit of fun, it's just the way I am. I don't realise how much I can upset people," Jo said soberly, as she felt Edward's foot sliding up and down her calves. "You remember how much fun you had at my expense?" he insisted as he gently but firmly used his foot to try and ease her knees apart. "Come on, Edward," Jo said, looking at him pleadingly as she resisted. "Why don't we go back to my room? I bet I can think of a way to make it up to you." "Maybe later, but for now I'm quite enjoying myself here. Now let me have my fun before I go and find Florence and David, and tell them what you've been up to." "He wouldn't really call Alec's wife, would he?" Jo wondered, as she reluctantly allowed him to prise her knees apart, her thighs tingling as he stroked them with his deft toes. There was something different about his this evening. She'd always thought of him as a bit nerdy and passive, but as he sat across from her now, there was an intensity, a steely determination that she hadn't seen before. He looked different too: sitting up straight which emphasized his height rather than slouching as he normally did. She guessed he must be wearing his contact lenses too, and without his glasses he somehow seemed a bit better-looking and masculine, the concentration in his naked, hazel eyes pinning her to her seat. Jo tried to look casual as she sipped her wine, but she felt increasingly warm and anxious as she felt his foot work its way up between her parted thighs. A middle-aged couple wearing office clothes sat down in the other corner, and she expected him to stop, but he carried on as if he wasn't aware of them. They wouldn't be able to see anything from their angle, there were too many tables and chairs in the way, but she could feel herself blushing. His surprisingly, patient gentle stroking was causing a delicious warmth to spread between her thighs, and she was both intrigued and impatient to see how far this new dominant Edward was going to take things. "Come on Edward, enough games now, eh?" she whispered a little anxiously as she felt his toes start to caress her through her skimpy panties. Looking down, between her legs she could see the bulge of his foot through the pleated cotton, slowly bobbing up and down as he stroked her. "But I thought you liked playing games" he said, grinning at her obvious discomfort. "Edward, please" she hissed, sliding a hand between her legs and grasping his teasing foot. "Hands on the table," he ordered. Of course, she didn't have to obey him, but something about the steely, resolute way he said it compelled her to place her moist palms flat on the cool, polished surface. "Open your legs wider," he said confidently, smiling as he felt her comply. Jo sat quietly, hands on the table, legs shamefully wide apart as Edward continued to tease her, her panties increasingly damp as his agile toes slowly stroked up and down the thin cotton gusset of her knickers. She was trying to look a bit bored, trying to pretend that there wasn't a luscious warmth radiating out from her thighs but if this was a game, it was clear to her that she was losing. "You love this, don't you?" he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Fooling around out in public, it turns you on, doesn't it?" "Don't be ridiculous, I don't know what you mean," she said, fixing him with what she hoped was a look of disdain, although she had to admit there was some truth to what he was saying. She had to admit that some dark part of her subconscious had always fantasized about risky sex, something with a touch of danger to get her adrenaline running. "Don't pretend you're not aroused," he said as if reading her mind. "I can feel how damp you are." "Rubbish. When are you going to stop this ridiculous game?" "Take your panties off," he said, a dangerous glint in his brown eyes that she hadn't seen before. "What?" "You heard me, take them off. I dare you." "Don't be absurd. Not here." He responded by taking a long sip of his beer, his eyes silently challenging her. She took another sip of wine, and glanced casually around the room as she considered what to do next. It was still empty apart from the middle-aged couple, who looked like they were locked in a deep discussion about work. "Surely he was joking!" she thought. But as his intense eyes locked with hers she knew he wasn't. She couldn't, could she? It was so naughty, so wrong! Anyone could walk in and see! But even as these thoughts crossed her mind, she knew deep down she wanted to see what it felt like. If she didn't, it would feel like he'd won. If she didn't, she knew she'd always wonder what would have happened. But how to do it? She pictured herself whipping them off quickly and throwing them across the table at him, turning that annoying grin into a look of surprise. No, surely it was better to take her time, making it clear she was in control of this situation and wouldn't be rushed. She bit her lip as she glanced around nervously before kicking off her leather sandals. She flashed Edward what she hoped was a defiant look as she slipped her hands beneath her short skirt, then hooked her thumbs under the lacy waistband, feeling the elastic tension. Still looking around, she quickly lifted her hips and in one smooth movement slid them down to her knees, before resting her bottom back on the padded seat. Jo's heart thumped, her mouth suddenly dry as she leant forward as eased her knickers down over her calves, raising first one leg then the other as she eased the little tangle of cotton over her bare feet. "There," she said, smiling triumphantly as she balled them up in her fist, her chin still close to the surface as she stretched to hand them to him under the table. "Over the table," he insisted, that annoying grin on his face again as he held out his hand, his slender fingers curling. "Cheat," Jo hissed angrily as she squeezed them into a tight ball in her fist then handed them over, the little scrap of lavender cotton clinging to her damp palm. She'd hoped he'd quickly stuff them into his pocket, but felt herself blushing furiously as he carefully unfolded them, examining and fingering the thin cotton edged with a thin, white strip of lace. He grinned, much too quick for her as she tried to snatch them back, and she was forced to watch as he sat back in his chair and raised them to his nose, as if he was exploring the delicate aroma of a glass of champagne. From a distance, it would look as if he was using a lavender-coloured tissue, but she could feel her triumphant smile fading as he delicately sniffed at the fabric, the triumphant expression on his face making it clear he now knew just how aroused she was, as he briefly closed his eyes and savoured the feminine fragrance that lingered on the cotton. "Well, well, it seems like you have been enjoying yourself, after all," he said, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he leant back in his seat and she felt one of his feet pushing against her knee, easing her legs even further apart whilst the other slid along her thigh and lightly stroked her warm, and now naked, flesh. Jo turned and stared out of the window, unable to meet his victorious eyes, putting her hand over her mouth to stifle a soft sigh as she felt is toes caress her moist folds with surprising gentleness. Her mind was a complex swirl of emotions: shame and embarrassment at the predicament she found herself in, her legs wantonly spread, her skirt riding up over her hot naked thighs and exposed to any passerby who cared to look under the table. But also anger that he seemed to understand her so well, understood exactly what buttons to press. And underlying it all, a deep longing arousal as she felt his toes ease her knees apart and patiently massage her soft, swollen folds. "Please, let's go back, please," she whispered as he stroked her patiently, her body responding, her nipples pressing against her bra, her hips moving restlessly as her bare pussy tingled. She glanced over to her left at the sign that pointed to the Ladies, and was tempted to stumble off to a cubicle and finger herself to a much-needed orgasm. In terms of his little game, would that be victory or defeat? With her blood deserting her brain and rushing to other parts of her body, she was having trouble thinking straight. "Maybe afterwards," he said, smiling as his big toe circled her swollen lips. "Please," she moaned urgently, squirming hotly as he pressed more firmly. "What's the matter? It certainly feels like you're enjoying it," he chuckled, showing no sign of mercy. "Edward, please," she heard herself beg. "Maybe I should have you here, hmm? Bend you over this table, pull your skirt up and give you what you so obviously want," he said. "Please, take me back, you can have me Edward, you can have me any way you like," she whispered urgently as she leant forward, a desperate look in her blue eyes. "Well, perhaps it is time I took you home before you really embarrass yourself," he said suddenly, still grinning as he slipped his sandals on and got up. Jo took his hand, and he pulled her up onto unsteady legs. As he opened the door for her, a cool breeze swept in and Jo felt another rush of excitement laced with danger as it swirled around her naked thighs and she tugged at her short skirt, suddenly aware just how wet she was. Outside, a group of labourers about to enter the pub, stood aside politely as she skipped through the door. "Thanks," she said, as she tugged her little pleated skirt down over her legs, aware of them staring at her legs, knowing that if she hadn't had such quick reflexes they might have seen a lot more than they'd expected. -- "Still teasing, Jo?" he groaned, as he shifted gear. "What's the matter, don't you like it? I can stop if you want," she said, innocently. She was enjoying being back in control and getting her own back after his little 'game' at the pub. They were halfway back to the school, his old hatchback rattling and rumbling as the sped down the rough country roads. He was driving much quicker than he normally would; ignoring the speed limit in his eagerness to get back to her room. Almost as soon as they were out of the pub car park, Jo had reached across and slid her slim hand into the pocket of his baggy blue shorts, caressing his semi-erect cock through the thin fabric of his pocket-lining. "Christ," he gasped, struggling to keep his eyes on the road as he felt her slender fingers tormenting him, gently squeezing his lengthening shaft. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her grin, displaying a neat row of even, white teeth as her deft finger unfastened the button on his shorts, and unzipped his flies. Spying a small track leading off to the left, he twisted the steering wheel and soon the car was lurching down a bumpy farm track, just two wheel-sized grooves cut into the green turf. "Where are we going?" Jo asked. "You'll see," he said. At the end of the track, there was a small, secluded car park where the ebbing sunlight was filtered through a thick ring of trees. Thankfully, it was deserted and Edward brought the car skidding to a sudden stop in one corner. "What are we doing?" Jo asked, although she already had a pretty good idea as they both fumbled with their seatbelts. Edward didn't even bother to reply, as he twisted in his seat and leant over towards her, his lips suddenly pressed against hers, all the suppressed passion of the last hour suddenly spilling over. She squealed as she felt the seat back recline, and suddenly she was flat on her back as his hands tugged urgently at her clothes. She helped him tug her t-shirt up over her head, and she struggled to unfasten her lavender bra as he tugged her skirt up, revealing her gloriously naked thighs. The Girls of St Catherine's Bk. 03 Ch. 04 "Oh Edward, Edward," she moaned, as she felt his hungry lips kissing her neck and his hand sliding between her warm thighs and massaging her mound. As soon as her bra fell away, his lips were exploring the pale, tender skin of her boobs, kissing and licking her flesh as she squirmed happily in the car seat. -- Major Farnsworth stopped at the top of the hill, and took off his camouflaged hat. He ran a hand through his neat, thinning grey hair as he drank from his water bottle. It had rained earlier, but now the sun had come out the path was drying out, its colour changing from dark to light brown as the atmosphere quickly became hot and steamy. He'd spent most of his afternoon out here, following a trail that started at the reservoir and followed the bend of the river downhill, then cut inland, the path rising as it traced the boundary of St Catherine's school. Several of his friends down at the Eastbrook Bird-spotters Club had sworn that they'd seen a Yellowhammer here, which was something to boast about as it was quite rare in this area. He'd been hoping to catch a glimpse, and maybe even a picture but so far he'd had no luck. Earlier, he thought he'd been able to hear its distinctive high-pitched staccato chattering, but as he'd moved closer it had seemed to drift further away, its voice echoing amongst distant trees, sometimes closer, sometimes further away, as if taunting him. "Think it might be time to call it a day, Betsy," he said, looking down at his faithful black Labrador. She looked up at him briefly, wagging her whip-like tail before disappearing off into some bushes, her nose to the ground, no doubt following the trail of a rabbit or squirrel. As he started back down the trial, he saw it; a little yellow jewel of a bird, lit by a shaft of sunlight as it perched on an elm tree not more than thirty yards in front of him. He held his breath, his heart thumping with excitement, as he slowly brought his camera up to his eyes. He'd invested in a new high-powered telephoto lens and he peered through the viewfinder with growing excitement at the saffron yellow breast, the streaky brown back, the forked tail. There was no doubt about it; it could only be a yellowhammer! Still holding his breath, he slowly walked forward a few steps, kneeling down as he adjusted the focus. He was just about to press the shutter-release when there was a loud noise, and suddenly he was focussed on an empty, gently swaying branch. "Damn and blast!" he muttered angrily. Where had that bloody noise come from? It sounded like a car skidding to a stop off to his right, its tyres crunching on gravel. He pushed his way through the bushes, and found himself at the crest of a small hill overlooking a secluded car park. It was empty apart from a small, red hatchback in the far corner. He spotted some movement inside. Was there someone in the car? He brought his binoculars up to his eyes for a closer look. The first thing he noticed was the dark green circular parking permit on the windscreen that read "S.C.S.G.". "Saint Catherine's School for Girls" he muttered, and there was definitely someone moving about inside, but the sunshine glinting of the glass made it difficult to see exactly what was going on. "Come on Betsy, let's see what they're playing at," he growled, as he set off, determined to get a little closer. -- Jo was naked now, apart from her skirt, a twisted green band around her waist. "God, that feels so good," she heard herself panting as he nipped and sucked at her instantly hard nipples, and his fingers traced the swollen outer folds of her pussy. She spread her legs as wide as she could in the cramped car, one foot on the dashboard, the other on the steering wheel as he expertly spread her swollen labia, and his fingers danced across the pink inner lips, spreading her juices along the length of her slit. Round and round his fingers swirled, massaging her sticky wet pussy as her hips undulated and she moaned happily. She threw her head back and howled as she felt his fingers gently probe the entrance to her sex, and his lips left a trail of hot kisses down over her stomach. All that public foreplay at the pub had left her young body in desperate need of a satisfying conclusion and she squealed loudly, her back arching up off the seat, as she felt one of his slender fingers slipping inside her, gently exploring and stroking the tight entrance to her vagina. "I wanted to do this to you at the pub, slide your skirt up over your legs, show everyone how naked you were, how horny," he said breathlessly as he slipped a finger between her juicy, clasping lips. "Oh God, Edward," she gasped as she felt his lips caressing the hot skin of her thighs, his tongue circling her throbbing clitoris. Then he was flicking the very tip of his tongue over the little pink pearl and she almost fainted at the sudden intense sensations. "Bet you would have liked that, huh? Me kneeling under the table, licking your lovely wet pussy while you sipped your wine, pretending nothing was going on," he said as he lapped at her hungrily. "Yes, yes," she panted, closing her eyes and seeing herself back at the pub, biting her knuckle to stop herself crying out as he pleasured her. Her body was rolling from side to side, surrendering to the waves of pleasure washing over her, each one a little higher than the last. As he continued to tease her clit, she felt him slide a second finger inside, finger-fucking her with long, smooth strokes as she felt her body begin to tense, her muscles tightening as her orgasm approached. "Don't stop! Don't stop!" she heard herself pleading as his fingers moved faster and faster, the tension inside her body building and building until she lost control. "Yes! Yes!" she squealed happily as she came, a wave of pure bliss washing over her, leaving her breathless and spent. -- She was still savouring the warm, post-orgasmic waves, her eyes shut, her mind elsewhere when she heard the car door open. "Edward? Wait a minute, what are you doing?" she said as he pulled her out of his car and onto her feet, quickly manoeuvring her so that she was bent over the bonnet of his car. She tried to straighten up, but he held her down with a firm hand in the centre of her back. It was clear that the time for games was over. "What are you doing?" she repeated, although it was quite obvious as he flipped her short skirt up over her naked bottom and yanked his white boxer shorts down to his knees. "Not here! Anyone could see!" she yelped, twisting around in time to watch his lengthy, angry-looking cock swinging between his thighs. "But that's what turns you on, isn't it?" he growled, his lips next to her ear as she felt herself helplessly sandwiched between his warm body and the car's bonnet, his erection sliding between her thighs and along the length of her silky slit. She caught her breath as she felt the swollen head, press urgently against her entrance, a brief pause before her lips were eased apart and he was inside her. "Yyyyeeesss," she agreed, her breath rushing out of her in one long sigh as she felt his lovely hard cock penetrating her from behind, slipping smoothly between her soaking pussy lips, deeper and deeper until his balls rested against her buttocks. -- Major Farnsworth crouched, half-hidden behind a tree trunk on the ridge overlooking the car park, his dull brown jacket and camouflaged trousers making him blend into the background. He got quite a shock when he peered out from behind the bushes. Even with just the naked eye, he could clearly see the rather naughty young woman bent over the car as her boyfriend energetically fucked her from behind. (Well, he assumed he was her boyfriend, but who could be sure these days?) "Good grief," he muttered. "He's certainly giving that young lady a jolly good seeing to." He slowly brought the camera up to his eyes; his fingers shaking with excitement as he slowly rotated the stubby but powerful telephoto lens until the couple came into sharp focus. From this range, he could see every lewd detail: the young man's taut muscular buttocks rocking back and forth, his strong hands spanning the girl's slender waist. The girl herself was undeniably attractive, her swaying blonde hair catching the fading sunlight, her pert boobs undulating rhythmically between her arms, her long, slim legs spread as her boyfriend drove his prick between her smooth, pale buttocks. He felt his cock lengthening, pressing urgently against his trousers as he watched the young couple thoroughly enjoying their al fresco coupling. He was tempted to join in, to unzip his trousers and stroke his growing erection but decided to wait, delaying his pleasure until he was safely back at home, reclining in his comfy leather chair and reviewing the pictures on his large, high-resolution monitor. As he clicked the shutter release, he was reminded of the incident several months back when he encountered that young woman stripping naked down near the river. He looked at those pictures regularly, reliving the same sense of voyeuristic excitement each time. She was from St Catherine's too: he was beginning to get quite a collection of their staff and pupils. He took picture after picture, already looking anticipating reliving the moment back at his house later: the young blonde, eyes squeezed shut, bent at right angles over the car, moaning audibly as her virile young friend began to move faster. Then zooming in, getting a close up where their bodies were joined, the young man's buttocks straining, his hot skin glistening as he picked up the pace. -- Jo was stretched helplessly across the car's bonnet, feeling the warmth of the engine through its hard metallic surface. She threw her head back and groaned loudly as she felt Edward's inflamed cock pounding her from behind, hard and relentless, like a piston inside a well-oiled cylinder. Edward pressed Jo further over the bonnet loving the way her pussy snugly gripped his cock, as if it were designed for his shaft. He watched her slick lips cling to his fat cock as he slowly eased himself out as if reluctant to let him go. He'd been fantasizing about this moment since the first time he met her. He remembered that time he stood ogling her pert bottom, his arms hanging helplessly at his sides, as she searched for those hiking maps in her car. Looking back, he was sure that she was teasing him, even then, and the thought caused him to thrust a little harder, enjoying the helpless little yelps that it caused. He'd wanted to take his time, savour the many delights of her firm, young body wriggling beneath him but he just couldn't stop himself moving faster and faster, her animal cries of lust driving him on, as he felt the pressure build in his aching prick. They'd started slowly and quietly, looking anxiously around them, aware that any second a car could come rolling up the trail. But as his lust grew, and his heart thumped against his chest, he couldn't help himself, fucking her harder and harder, his swollen balls slapping against her buttocks, his desperate cries getting louder as he felt himself nearing the very pinnacle of his hot desire. "That's it, fuck me, please fuck me," Jo was panting, her pussy squeezing his hardness, a fine sheen of sweat coating their bodies as he strained towards his climax. Her feverish cries pushed him over the edge, and with a final flurry of sharp staccato strokes he was there, throwing his head back and howling at the sky as he came, his cock pulsing as it exploded deep inside her. They lay across the car for what felt like several minutes, their spent bodies savouring the lovely post-orgasmic glow as their breathing slowly returned to normal. As they slowly straightened and began to collect their clothes, they didn't notice the shadowy figure above them slipping quietly away, back amongst the dense forest. -- "So, I think you've got something of mine," Jo reminded him as his car rolled down the gravel drive back at the school. Edward smiled as he slid his hand into his pocket and fingered the tangled scrap of lavender cotton. "I thought I'd keep them as a souvenir," he grinned. -- "You know we were talking about spanking the other night? I was wondering if you'd like me to show you what to do. You know, just in case you ever need to punish one of your students." They were standing outside her room as Florence fished around inside her handbag. "Oh, I don't know," Florence said, as she finally found her keys and opened the door. "I suppose I am curious, but I'm not sure I'd ever use it myself." "Come on, just so you know what it's like," he said encouragingly. "It'll only take a minute." "I don't know David. Can't we just, you know, fool around a bit?" she said, closing the door behind them. "Plenty of time for that, just let me give you a quick demonstration," he said breezily as he sat on the bed, and held a hand out to her. "So you want to demonstrate on me? Oh!" she squealed as he tugged her wrist and in one smooth, well-practised movement drew her across his lap. Florence found herself in quite an undignified position, balanced across his thighs, her hands flat against the rough wooden floorboards, her bottom in the air as her hair tumbled around her face like a red velvet curtain, restricting her view to David's worn leather shoes. "So you want to have your legs spread like this, so your victim is balanced across your knees," David said breezily as he shifted her into position and ran a hand over her back. "Perhaps this isn't such a great idea, can you let me up please?" Florence said nervously, uncomfortable at finding herself in such a vulnerable position and trying to get back to her feet. "Nonsense, just a quick demonstration then I'll let you go," he said, as she felt his arm across her shoulders, gently but firmly pushing her back down, her toes just scraping the floor, her boobs threatening to spill out of her low cut blouse. "Really, David, I'm not sure...oh!" she yelped as she felt his hand connect smartly with her bottom, her body jolting at the shock. "There! You see how easy it is?" she heard him say. "Yes, well, this is all very interesting but if you could just let me up... ow!" Florence yelped as he spanked her again. "Of course, to make it more authentic we need for you to have been naughty in some way..." he mused, as he ran his hand over her bottom."Oh, I know, let's talk about what you were up to in the pub, hmm? Do you remember what you were doing?" "Listen, I was just having a bit of fun... ow! David!" she exclaimed, as she felt his hand connect once more, a little harder this time. "A bit of fun, eh? Well then, you won't mind me having a bit of fun now, will you?" he asked rhetorically as he ran a hand over her derrière, smoothing her plain black skirt over her increasingly warm skin. Ignoring her protests, he began to spank her steadily, his firm hand making a distinctive fleshy slapping sound as he warmed her buttocks. The fantasy of spanking was one thing, but the real thing actually stung a little, and the hard, steely edge in his voice suggested things might get worse. A lot worse. She was beginning to regret getting carried away in the pub. "Come on, David, that's enough, eh? Ouch! What if I say I'm sorry?" Florence said, struggling to keep her voice even. The awkward position and the spanking were combining to make her feel breathless. "Go on then," he said, pausing as his fingers toying with the hem of her skirt. "I'm sorry, okay?" "Sorry for what?" he said, as he eased the hem up a couple of inches, his warm fingers stroking the inside of her thigh thoughtfully. "Sorry I was, you know, fooling around under the table. Now please let me go," Florence said, as she awkwardly reached behind and tried to tug her skirt back down, desperately trying to reclaim some of her dignity. "You mean, sorry you were teasing me by stroking my cock?" he said, twisting her hand behind her back, making her feel even more helpless. She squealed, her body jerking as his hand connected again, quite hard this time. "Ow! Please! Yes, yes, I'm sorry," Florence mewed, still trying to twist free, her legs kicking. "Say it then," he insisted as he slid her skirt up over her bottom, pausing to admire the pleasingly plump roundness of her buttocks. He ran his hand over the pale blue panties that were stretched tightly over buttocks, and squeezed one of the soft rounded globes. "I'm sorry I was teasing you by stroking your cock," Florence said, in a small voice. "Louder!" he insisted as he slapped her again, harder this time, her fleshy buttocks rippling. "Ow! I'm sorry I was teasing you by stroking your cock," Florence gasped, her humiliation complete. "Very good, Florence," he said, his voice condescending as if he was addressing an errant schoolgirl. "I will let you go soon but I do think as a new teacher here you might benefit from knowing how this feels. You did seem keen to find out about this, when we were driving back from the pub last week." "No! Ow! Please!" she gasped as she felt his rough hand stinging her buttocks, this time without the protection of her skirt, the black material now neatly folded in the small of her back. "Yes, you seemed very curious. What was it you were saying? What if I've been a bad girl and really need to be taught a lesson? Hmm? Perhaps I should show you," he said as he spanked her hard twice, once on each buttock. "Ow! Stop!" she squealed, kicking her legs helplessly as he spanked her again and again, but she couldn't help enjoying the delicious friction as her pussy rubbed against the lean, hard muscle of his leg. She could feel her buttocks tingling warmly now and could imagine the smooth skin blushing hot pink. But there was another sort of tingling too, an all-too-familiar feeling spreading from between her thighs. It got worse when she felt him ease his fingers between her legs and slowly stroke her swollen folds through the clinging cotton. "What else was it you said? Would I have to take my knickers off too?" he said, mocking her by impersonating her gentle Scottish accent, his finger making her quiver as he explored the moist contours. "Stop, please," she panted, a confusing mix of pain, embarrassment and arousal clouding her mind. Had he known how turned on she was that night? Was it that obvious? It was certainly obvious how aroused she was now, she thought, as he used the pads of his fingers to slowly caress her pussy through the increasingly damp cotton. "Of course, it's not a proper spanking if you're still wearing your panties, you want to know how a proper spanking feels, don't you, hmm?" he growled, his lips suddenly next to her ear as she felt him tugging her knickers over her flared hips. "No, please!" she gasped breathlessly, reaching behind, her fingers clutching at the waistband. "You're only making it worse for yourself," he grunted as he swatted her hand away impatiently and pulled the blue cotton down to her knees, her naked, tender buttocks exposed to his rough hands. "No! Please!" she gasped as he forced her legs apart, her knickers a tight band stretched between her knees, the embarrassingly wet purse of her sex peeking out from between her plump, reddened buttocks. She yelped as he lightly slapped the very centre of her wetness, causing her to squirm uncontrollably with the heady mixture of pleasure and pain. "All that talk of spanking had made you hot, hadn't it?" he said, his hand slapping her sore buttocks once more. "Ow!" she yelped. "It made you hot, didn't it?" he repeated, his hand slapping her again, much harder. "Ow! Yes!" Florence confessed. "Good girl," he said, rewarding her by stroking the centre of her wetness. She moaned urgently as she felt his fingers exploring her wet folds, spreading her creamy juices along the full length of her slit as she spread her legs and rocked against the hard muscle of his thighs. "I bet you touched yourself later in bed, didn't you? Hmm?" The Girls of St Catherine's Bk. 03 Ch. 04 "Please, please," Florence was panting now as one of his searching fingers slid up over her puffy folds and gently teased her pulsing, achingly sensitive clit. "Yes, I'd love to watch you touching yourself," he chuckled, as he spread her swollen folds and ran a fingertip up and down her silky slit. "Don't stop, please don't stop," she heard herself begging as his tormenting fingers stroked her molten centre. "Yes, I'd love to watch you frigging yourself, making yourself come for me," he chuckled, as his wet fingertip circled her swollen nub making her breath catch in her throat, her muscles tensing as the pressure deep inside her grew and grew. "Yes, yes, don't stop," she was pleading as he eased a thick thumb inside her clasping lips, and his wet fingers flicked over her clit, her body so close now, so close. When she closed her eyes, she pictured herself, writhing naked on her bed, the smell of her sex thick in the air, pleasuring herself with sticky fingers whilst he reclined in an armchair fully dressed, his eyes glittering darkly as he watched from the shadows. A thin smile playing around his lips as she pleasured herself for him, stroking herself to climax after delicious climax. It was that image that pushed her over the edge, her body squirming and contorting wildly as her orgasm hit hard, and the delicious waves of hot pleasure radiated out from her pussy as she sobbed happily. -- "Are you okay? I didn't hit you too hard, did I? It's just that I've been dying to spank that gorgeous bottom of yours since I met you," David said as he helped her to her feet, then onto the bed beside him. "Gosh, no, that was, well, it was terrific," Florence said, sweeping her tangled red hair from her face, and wiping the tears from her eyes. "You know you were rather naughty at the pub earlier, so it just seemed like too good an opportunity to miss," he said, almost apologetically. Florence reached out and slid her hand along his chin, looking into the cool depths of his grey eyes. Whilst he'd been spanking her it had felt like he was possessed, his character firmer, stricter. A dominant man who took what he wanted. Now it was over, he seemed back to his normal, polite self. Which seemed a bit of a shame; Florence had liked his evil twin! "No, you're quite right, I was a little flirty earlier. A naughty girl, I suppose. Perhaps I needed someone to teach me a lesson," she said, her cheeks flushing pink. She couldn't resist, glancing down at his trousers and noting the firm bulge there. David smiled, as she ran a cool hand up over his denim thighs and along the hard ridge that had formed. "Looks like you're as aroused as you were in the pub earlier," she said, a playful smile forming on her moist lips. "Yes, you'd better do something about that, unless you want another spanking," he gasped as she squeezed him. "Please no, not another spanking. I'll do anything," she said in mock horror. "Well, you'd best get on your knees, girl, and finish what you started," he grinned. "Oh Sir, it feels so big," she said, grinning as she slid smoothly to the floor, the wooden floorboards hard against her knees. "Get on with it girl, you'd better leave me satisfied," he said sternly as he watched her deft fingers unfasten his belt, and unzip his flies. "Yes Sir," she said, smiling happily as she extracted his very hard, very thick cock from his flies and started to stroke him. The Girls of St Catherine's Bk. 03 Ch. 05 Highland Games (Part 5) ----------------- Sunday, 4 October ------------------ Edward felt his thigh muscles burning, his heart thumping and his hot breath rasping in his throat as together, he and Jo neared the peak. "Keep going, I'm nearly there!" he heard Jo panting as they encouraged each other to go higher and higher, so near their goal now. "I'm not sure I can!" he gasped, as he felt a drop of sweat roll off his forehead and sting his eyes. "Just a little more, keep going!" the blonde pleaded urgently. With a final flurry of lung bursting effort, they were there, emerging from the darkness into the blinding light. Edward staggered out of leafy shade of the dense cover, a cooling breeze caressing his skin as they cleared the tree line and emerged into the bright daylight of the hilltop "Oh God!" Edward panted, staggering to a nearby picnic table and sitting down heavily, his head between his knees, his chest heaving, his lungs on fire. "Good effort, champ," Jo said, resting a hand on his shoulder. Annoyingly, she sounded like she was barely out of breath. "God, I think I'm having a heart attack," Edward said breathlessly, clutching his chest. "Come on, you're just a bit out of shape. Although if you want some mouth-to-mouth..." Jo laughed as she lightly kissed the moist salty skin of his forehead. It had only been about half-an-hour since they set off from the car park at the base of the hill, but he was already exhausted. It had been quite a steep run up through the woodland track, and at times the only thing that had kept him going had been Jo's encouraging shouts and the sight of her lithe body a few yards in front of him, her blonde ponytail swinging back and forth, her tight grey shorts stretched over the firm globes of her buttocks as she jogged along with effortless ease, her long legs eating up the ground. At least it had been cool and shady on the way up. Up at the top, there was a large grassy area, where the sun warmed a number of wooden picnic tables, and reflected off the roof of a white ice-cream van. There were a few people scattered around taking pictures and on the table next to them, a family sat down and started unpacking a picnic. Jo stood in front of him, a hand shading her pale blue eyes as she took in the view. From up here you could all the way to the English channel, a narrow strip of silvery grey just beyond the south downs. Over to her left, she could hear the faint roar as, below them, miniature planes took off from a distant airport. To her left there were miles and miles of open countryside, patches of green and yellow divided by thin ribbons of grey roads and fuzzy hedgerows He slowly regained his breath, whilst running his eyes up over her body. She was wearing a tiny pair of light grey shorts and a cobalt blue sports bra, both of them skin-tight and made of Lycra so that they clung to her slick skin, revealing all of the subtle planes and lean curves of her hot young body. She was only a few inches from him and he fought the urge to reach out and grasp her slim hips, drawing her to him as he leant forward and kissed the smooth, salty skin of her stomach. He knew she was just wearing a tiny g-string under those shorts and he imagined slowly easing her shorts and panties down and kissing her bare thighs as he hands squeezed her firm buttocks, holding her in place. Licking and caressing her sex until her little cries of protest turned into moans of surrender. He finally straightened up, his eyes lingering over her pert boobs as she stared into the distance, a hand shading her sky blue eyes. "Err, enjoying the view?" he said. "Not as much as you," she grinned, noting the way his eyes mentally undressed her. "Yeah well, for once, I think I may be hotter than you, " he said, hoping he didn't look any more flushed as he wiped the sweat out of his eyes with a corner of his white t-shirt. "Well in that case, I think it's time for that ice-cream," she replied. "Ice-cream?" "Yeah, you remember, 'last one to the top buys the ice-creams'. That's what you said back at the car park. Loser!" --- "Told you it was a good view, didn't I?" he said, as they walked away from the van, licking their ice-creams, plain vanilla for him, pistachio for her. "You were right for once, this is great," she said, waving an arm that swept across the view. "Come on, there's an even better view down here," Edward said. "I found it the last time I was here." He took her hand and led her down a tiny, easy-to-miss path just off the main trail. It was badly overgrown and they had to be careful, picking their way through a twisted tangle of brambles, stinging nettles and hawthorn bushes that crowded the path. At the end, it opened up into a tiny clearing cut into the side of the hill, just broad enough for a single wooden bench. The trees in front had been cleared, providing a different, but equally beautiful, view as from the top. "Hey, this is great, I knew there had to be some advantage to going out with you," Jo said, sticking out her moist green tongue as she sat down. They sat quietly for a while, enjoying the ice-cold, creamy taste and the feel of the fresh breeze on their warm skin. Edward finished his ice cream first, munching his way through the wafer cone, then turned and watched Jo. Just about everything she did seemed sexy to him, but watching her close her eyes as she savoured the taste, her pointed little tongue slowly lapping at the creamy surface was undeniably hot, and he felt his cock stir in his shorts. Jo noticed him watching out of the corner of her eye; she began to lap at her ice-cream with long, slow licks, shaping the ice cream into a tight cone, then slowly drew it back and forth between her plump pink lips as if she were performing fellatio. "Always the tease," he laughed as he watched her "I don't know what you mean," she giggled, fluttering her eyelashes innocently. "Hey!" she exclaimed as he scooped a finger-full of her ice cream and held it up in front of her lips. She couldn't resist. He held his breath as she hungrily drew his finger between her icy lips, her tongue swirling around his finger and flicking over his fingertip, licking it clean in a sexy, feline way. He felt himself grow harder at the sheer eroticism of the moment. They were fooling around with the ice cream so much that it began to melt, a thin green trickle rolling down over her fingers and wrist, the drops splashing on her sports bra. "Oops, what a messy girl," she giggled. Slowly, Edward leaned over and placed a hand on her thigh. "Oh!" she said, as he twisted towards her, his head suddenly next to her chest, his tongue lapping at the spots, the bright green slowly fading into the deep blue background. She moaned as more drops splashed on her top and he licked at them hungrily. Her sports bra was quite robust, but soon they could both see the faint dimples caused by her nipples. "Oh, Edward!" she gasped as his agile tongue caressed one of her peaks through the stretchy Lycra. Before long, he was kissing his way up the bare slope of her breast, her shoulders. Her straw blonde hair was tied back in a short ponytail and he took full advantage, kissing the exposed skin of her neck and nibbling at her ear, before twisting his head sideways and sharing a delicious, pistachio-flavoured French kiss. "Jesus, Edward, we shouldn't be doing this," she whispered, but didn't stop him as he eased on of the thick, elastic straps over her shoulder, his cold vanilla lips caressing the bare skin beneath. He felt his cock grow another inch as he tugged her stretchy bra upwards, one of her pert boobs spilling out. "What if someone sees us?" she gasped as she felt his eager lips exploring her pale nakedness. Her exposed nipple was tiny and strawberry pink, and he teased her a little by running the tip of his tongue around it in lazy circles. "But that's what you find arousing, isn't it? The thought of being caught turns you on," he said, as his lips closed around the tight little peak. "Cocky bastard," she moaned affectionately, both irritated and happy that he seemed to know her so well after only a few weeks. It was just so naughty fooling around like this, out here in a public space and the thought of someone stumbling across them or even secretly watching them from the bushes caused hot tingles to run up and down her spine. She watched with growing arousal, as he used two fingers to scoop up some of still frosty ice cream. "Oh!" she gasped again as he smeared it on the warm skin of her breast, icy tingles making her shiver. Feeling her nipple instantly harden into a stiff little peak as the cold suddenly replaced the soft, warmth of his tongue. They watched as her body heat caused it to melt, thick green drops rolling over her breast. She caught her breath as he began to lap at the bright green splashes, arching her back as he worked his way up over her breast, hungrily lapping at her skin, her flesh tingling in anticipation. "Mmmm," she sighed happily, leaning back and closing her eyes as she felt his warm tongue lapping at her tiny, ultra-sensitive bud. Licking and sucking and nipping as her body responded, a moist warmth spreading between her thighs. The ice cream cone dropped from her hand, forgotten, as she watched his hand slide up over her thigh and begin to caress her mound through the tight, thin Lycra of her shorts. "God, it feels so good," she sighed, spreading her legs a little wider as his hand moved in slow circles and his rough lips suckled her tight nipple. She felt herself grow even hotter as his strong fingers started to plough the moist furrow between her legs. Reaching over, she slid a hand over his baggy navy blue shorts, feeling a fresh surge of arousal at the steely hardness pressing against the material, eager to escape. She heard him moan, a low animal-like growl at the back of his throat as she began to stroke him, feeling him swell and thicken excitingly. "Come on, I want to fuck you," he growled, tugging impatiently at the waistband of her shorts. "We can't, not here, it's too dangerous," she protested, but even as she was saying it she knew that was exactly what she wanted. What her body demanded. He was right, she did find it dangerous. Anyone could come along and find them fucking like animals and that's what made it exciting, made her g-string damp. She kicked her shoes off and stood on wobbly legs, helping him slide her thin shorts and skimpy undies down over her legs. She pulled her bra up over her head and suddenly she was as naked as the birds singing in the trees above them. "Quickly, get your shorts off," she whispered urgently, her voice tense and excited, as he sat and stared at her naked body. Her thighs were a little paler than the rest of her body and he couldn't help staring at her beautiful pussy with its swollen, prominent lips beneath the thin strip of platinum blonde hair. It looked like an exotic flower, the orchid pink petals glistening with her sweet nectar. "You're such a bad boy," she said breathlessly as he lifted his bottom and tugged his shorts down to his knees, his lovely long cock springing free, pointing at the blue sky, as thick and sinuous as the trunks of the young saplings that hid them from the main path. She was unable to look away as he spat on his hand and slowly spread the slickness along his long shaft. The bench's surface was rough and hard on her knees, a little painful, but that was quickly forgotten as she wrapped her slender fingers around his prick and rubbed the shiny purple head along her juicy slit, slowly up and down, teasing herself for once. With her free hand she parted her labia, exposing the swollen pink lips within. Then they were both groaning, a lusty duet of satisfaction as she slowly impaled herself, inch by inch, on his thick cock, his thick shaft stretching her silky wet pussy lips thrillingly as her thigh muscles strained. Edward resisted the urge to grab her buttocks and start thrusting deep inside her, although that's what every fibre of his body was screaming for. Instead, he rested his hands on her slim hips and tilted his head back, as she kissed him, savouring the tight embrace of her velvety pussy. She gripped the back of the bench as she began to fuck him, her hips sliding back and forth. He had a great view of her small but firm boobs and he couldn't resist the urge to lick and suck at her nipples as they gently bounced up and down in front of his face until they were as hard as hazelnuts. "Oh God, it's so good, so good," she was moaning. Her bottom was resting against his thighs as she slowly rocked back and forth, loving the feeling of his throbbing cock filling her completely. He watched through half-open eyes as she slid a hand down over her stomach and used a wet fingertip to draw ever-decreasing circles around her swollen clit. Jo closed her eyes, a long, low growl of pleasure escaping her moist, pink lips as she pleasured herself. He squeezed her eyes shut, moving his hips in time with hers, feeling her body tremble, hearing her trying not to moan too loudly as she strummed a finger across her achingly sensitive clit. All that foreplay with the ice cream had gotten her feeling so hot and in no time at all she was almost there, her juices coating his swollen shaft as she slid up and down, gradually getting faster and faster as she felt her climax approach. Out of nowhere, they suddenly heard voices. Voices maybe thirty yards away; it sounded like an elderly couple. "Where are you going, Jeff?" a woman's voice called. Despite the danger, Jo was so hot and so close now, she simply couldn't stop as she bounced up and down happily, all her muscles tensed as she raced towards her goal. "I'm just seeing what's down here," she heard a gruff voice reply, about twenty yards away. The sudden surge of adrenaline at the thought of being discovered naked and fucking like animals and the feel of Edward's teeth gently closing around one of her hard, little nipples combined to push her over the edge, and suddenly she was coming, biting Edward's shoulder to stop herself screaming as the intensely pleasurable orgasm rushed through her. "I don't think that leads anywhere," the female voice called. Edward felt Jo's body go rigid, and he realised she was cumming as he felt her tight pussy rhythmically squeezing his cock and her sharp, little teeth clamped around his skin. "Hang on, I'm just having a look..." He tried to think of something else to stop himself cumming, but her orgasm seemed to go on forever, her quivering body pressed tightly to him, her thighs grinding against his, her pussy relentlessly squeezing his swollen cock and suddenly he came too, his head thrown back, his mouth wide open in a silent scream of pleasure. He heard her sigh contentedly, her warm breath on his ear, as he felt his balls contracting, his hot spunk surging deep inside her trembling body "Come on, we haven't got all day. The car park runs out in an hour, come on let's head back." "All right, all right" the man grumbled. Jo and Edward, their hot bodies still entwined, felt a cool surge of relief as the voices receded into the distance. --- "Bloody hell, Edward, that was so naughty!" Jo giggled as she stepped into her shorts and underwear and quickly pulled them up over her slender legs. "I know, if getting fit is going to be this much fun, I reckon I'll be running marathons in a few weeks!" "Yeah," she said as he handed over her bra, "and I reckon pistachio ice cream is never going to taste quite the same again!"