I'm one of the few male teachers at St.Matilda's Academy for Young Ladies, an expensive English private school for posh girls. I teach a final year class of eighteen to nearly nineteen year old girls. I'm quite senior and being in my forties I'm old enough to be their fathers.
At St.Matilda's the girls wear a schoolgirl uniform. That comprises a white blouse, long sleeved in winter, short sleeved in summer, with a school necktie and a pleated grey skirt. Girls may wear black tights, or in summer if they prefer they can opt for bare legs which many girls do to get a tan. On most of my girls that uniform looks quite respectable, though those blouses and skirts seem designed to show off girls' young bodies and legs to perfection!
But there are always the St. Matilda's girls who choose to wear the thinnest boob clinging all but see through blouses they can squeeze their fresh young breasts into and which show their bra through, and sometimes even leaving a strategically located button or two open. They're usually the girls who hoik their skirts as high up their thighs as they can get away with so their every move treats me to a classroom upskirt panty peep. Best of all are the naughty girls who ignore St. Matilda's regulations that girls' underwear must be "white, opaque and modest" and wear underwear that's anything but, or better still no underwear at all. They're the girls I like! As you can imagine it's a real voyeur's paradise.
Over a school term I soon pick up the relationships between my girls, who's friends with whom, the squabbles, the rivalries, the jealousies and all the rest. So it wasn't long before I noticed the little thing going on between two of my nearly nineteen year olds, Suzanne and Wendy. I saw how they sat next to each other in class whenever they could and how they were always chatting together at lunchtime. I also noticed how sometimes they disappeared into the girls' toilet together and how afterwards their previously neat hair was ruffled and they looked very pleased with themselves.
Then one afternoon I glanced in passing through the school library door. Half concealed behind a book shelf Suzanne and Wendy were kissing lips to lips, Suzanne was fondling Wendy's big breasts through her blouse, and Wendy's hand was under Suzanne's school uniform skirt moving rhythmically. I've fingered my wife's pussy to a climax many times and I knew straightaway that Wendy was massaging Suzanne's cunt.
I'd seen enough "schoolgirl crushes" in my time at St. Matilda's as hormonally supercharged young girls' sexual awareness surges to know what was going on. At their age at my boys' school I'd been the same, a hormonally supercharged nearly nineteen year old with an almost permanent erection. I needed constant satisfaction and didn't care if I got it from girls or boys. But boys were easier to come by and most of my school friends were as randy for cock play as I was. I'd spent many sessions crammed into a school toilet cubicle with another boy, our trousers and school regulation grey briefs down our thighs, a porn magazine spread open on the tank, our hands caressing each other's balls and bums, and hand-jobbing each other's stiff young cocks until we spurted yet another couple of semen stains against the cubicle wall or over borrowed sisters' or mother's panties.
Suzanne and Wendy were a boy's dream pair of girls. They were both just weeks off nineteen. Suzanne was a young beauty with golden hair cascading down to her shoulders. Sweet faced Wendy had a neat dark bob of hair trimmed just to her ears and her big glasses gave her an alluring innocent and so vulnerable look. Both girls had shapely young figures well set off in their summer school uniform blouses and short skirts and I'd long noticed that Wendy had the best filled blouse in my class. Needless to say both Suzanne and Wendy featured regularly in my masturbation fantasies as of course do most other girls in my class.
At the time I didn't think Suzanne and Wendy had realised I'd spotted them in the library. But I was wrong. A few days after I'd seen them in the library, just as school was closing at the end of the afternoon I turned a corner in a school corridor and there were Suzanne and Wendy coming toward me, holding hands. They quickly let go of each other and stared at me, then glanced at each other, then Wendy spoke.
"You know our little secret don't you sir? You saw us in the library. But we're not lesbians, it's just fun." I said nothing. Wendy continued. "Please don't tell on us, sir." I had no intention of telling on them but I didn't say. They glanced at each other again, then Suzanne spoke.
"We'll do a deal with you, sir. I've noticed how you look at me in class. You want me, don't you? If you keep our secret I'll do one for you any time you want."
To make clear what she meant by "doing one for me" Suzanne formed her thumb and finger into a ring and bobbed her hand up smoothly and down at just the height, length and angle of a man's erect penis in a gesture every boy knows so well. Suzanne's long shapely legs were bare, as allowed in summer at St. Matilda's. As if to make her point even clearer she briefly lifted the front of her skirt just far enough to give me a brief glimpse of her school regulation white cotton knickers at the top of her tanned thighs.
I'd been at St. Matilda's for years but the closest I'd ever gotten to any of my girls beyond an upskirt or downblouse peep was in my masturbation fantasies. This was an offer I couldn't refuse!
"How about right now?" I suggested. "Let's find a classroom. You can have some girl on girl too."
I had a pass key to all the classrooms. St. Matilda's building was all but empty at that time of day. So close to the end of term when some school years had already ended it wasn't unusual for a classroom to be closed and locked. I was sure the girls would think of some excuse for their late arrival at home, like being kept in for discipline. They were certainly naughty enough for punishment! The girls were delighted with my suggestion. A couple of minutes later we were in an upstairs classroom safe from prying eyes, with the door locked behind us. Like many of the classrooms at St. Matilda's it still had the traditional old style individual school desks.
