The New Summer School

Chris had done a lot of preparation for the interview.

Ravine Point Preparatory was a highly exclusive private high school, tucked away deep in the woods of Virginia. Small classes. Individual attention. The pay would have been fantastic for the average school-year teaching position, but Chris was after a different position; a few years back they had begun a undergrad preparation summer program for all the filthy rich eighteen-year-olds they could lure into the gingerbread house. Chris had his sights set on teaching in that program, and it was a strange one.

It was open to any college-bound student, not just Ravine Point grads. There were no advertisements in any school newspapers, and no mention on the Internet. It was strictly word-of-mouth. And it had been a stunning success, apparently, because they were seeking over twenty new instructors for the upcoming summer. Chris had only heard of the job through a friend of his father’s, whose youngest daughter had completed the program and gone off to Yale. Chris was young himself, with only a few short years of teaching experience, but the girl’s father had patted his shoulder and assured him that he’d be perfect for the position because his little girl said so, and he gave him all of the necessary contact info.

He aced the preliminary interviews. They clearly found his ignorance of the program’s specifics endearing. On the call-back interview, they filled him in on all of the specifics. Chris really wanted this job. He would be given a private apartment in the nearby town (nearby meaning twenty-five minutes), excellent benefits, and he was very excited about fulfilling his educational duties. But he had received no calls, no letters for a long while. It was frustrating how certain these rich folk were that they could make you wait. Not that they were wrong. And then, out of the blue, Chris was informed that there was possibly room for one more instructor. It was very close to the start of class. In fact, this final interview was scheduled for the first day of classes, early in the morning, before the students arrived. He forgot his prior misgivings as he threw his possessions into suitcases and drove down south.

They had given him a temporary apartment, which would become his permanent quarters for the summer if he was accepted. He had almost forgotten his new door key before rushing to his car, and he followed the directions to the campus flawlessly. He was ten minutes early for his appointment as he strode through the main doors of RPP Hall. Around the corner to his left was the office of Ms. Laney Francis, Director of Faculty Affairs.

“Hello there! You must be Mr. Chapel. It’s wonderful to meet you.”

Chris’ breath grew short as he closed the door behind him. Laney was a gorgeous woman. Older than him, mid-thirties. Bright, intelligent green eyes. Dusty hair done up in stylish braids. She was short, about five-two, and wore tobacco-colored Jimmy Choos on her bare feet. What really caught Chris’ attention was her dress, an elegant short-sleeved black number, cut in a way that seemed to draw extra attention to the perfectly tanned skin on her bare legs. Chris was now aching to work with her.

“I apologize for the short notice, Mr. Chapel.”

“Oh, it’s no problem at all.”

“I assume you’ve been told what your duties will entail?”

“Yes. A homeroom period and three to four forty-minute class periods per day.”

“Absolutely. Students will travel to your room. Some will be gender-mixed, but some will be all female.”

“The classes used to be all one gender, right?”

“Oh, Mr. Chapel. You’ve done your study. That’s good.”

Her face was bright and smiling, but Chris could not see underneath. He couldn’t read how well he was really doing. Laney bent down to open a small electric cooler beside her desk. Her dress rode slowly up her thighs, revealing no tan lines, only soft olive skin. She rose holding two bottles. She handed one to Chris: a hard lemonade.

“Sit down, Mr. Chapel. Enjoy your drink.”

Chris sat nervously. Laney settled in behind her desk, cracked open the bottle, and took a rather vulgar chug, downing almost half of it. Chris opened his own drink, underestimated the kick of the formula, and gurgled a small amount onto his dress shirt and tie. Laney, who fortunately had swallowed completely, bellowed with laughter.

“Very impressive sir! Excellent! Points for etiquette!”

Chris blushed with embarrassment as he wiped his lips. His face only grew redder as Laney threw her legs upon her desk, leaning back in her chair, her feet suddenly inches from Chris’ face.

“So, if we may officially begin, Mr. Chapel, what do you have to offer our student body that makes you… stand out?”

Enough mild humiliation. Chris knew he had to lock the job right now or he’d be cleaning out his room in a half-hour.

He removed his sports coat, loosened his tie, and pulled it over his head. Laney pursed her lips.

“Let‘s. Hear. Your. Answer. Mr. Chapel.”

Chris carefully seized Laney’s right foot, lifting it from its prior resting place atop her other foot. Her toes wiggled inside her footwear. Chris darted his tongue out and sharply grazed the tips of her toes.

Laney yelped in the manner of a little girl upon spotting a naughty mouse. She giggled huskily at her own surprise. Chris began to run his tongue between her toes, moving in wider arcs with each pass, until her was licking the top of her feet, tasting the straps of her sandals. Very expensive.

Laney tossed back the rest of her drink, sucking deeply on the top of the bottle to extract the final drops. Chris slipped off her sandal, and dropped it to the ground. Even her feet were flawlessly tanned. He sucked on her toes gingerly as she cooed, and he kneaded the sides of her foot.

“Mmmmmmm. Pass me your drink, Mr. Chapel.”

Chris obeyed without looking up from his work. Laney sucked down all of Chris’ drink as her other shoe tumbled off, and her toes tickled with sparkling warmth and pleasure.

“I love these drinks, Mr. Chapel. They taste soooo good and they relax me.”

She gently flicked her toes against the top of Chris’ mouth.

“Come on. On your feet. Show me your body while I get another drink.”

“Will you need to relax after seeing it?” asked Chris as he stood.

“Don’t you hope, sweety.”

Laney’s bare feet hit the floor at the same time as Chris’ dress shirt. He made sure to remove his socks as well as his shoes; there was no telling if Laney would find them cute or merely silly. Laney rose from the cooler with her drink in time to see Chris’ dress pants fall, leaving him in only a comfortable pair of navy blue briefs.

“Oooh. Very nice. Not too muscled. A little lanky. Good.”

Laney nibbled on the cap of her drink.

“You seem to have been very… enthusiastic about my feet, Mr. Chapel.”

Chris suddenly realized that he was very aroused, and his erection was quite evident.

“Well, I’m enthusiastic about all of you, Ms. Francis.”

“And our students I hope,” said Laney, twisting the cap.

“I’ll show them twice as much as I’ve shown you.”

“Oh, you’ll lick their ankles too?”

Laney chortled and took a small gulp, and smiled warmly.

“I’m very warm from these drinks, Mr. Chapel. You’d better make your interviewer comfy.”

Chris grinned and walked behind Laney. Her back was arched from taking a huge swig, and the zipper on her dress melted downward. Her butt was hugged by cherry red cotton panties, devouring her tasty thighs. Chris moved in front of her, and pulled her dress forward, revealing a matching bra. Her belly vibrated as the sweet alcohol filled it, and Chris’ penis grew sensitive with ecstasy, tiny spasms pushing clear liquid onto his briefs as he soaked her in.

“This has to be the best job a person could have,” Chris whispered.

“It wasn’t always like this, Mr. Chapel. I think I’ll tell you while our interview proceeds.”

She grinned as she set her bottle on her desk.

“I want you to lick me all over. Every nook and cranny. I’ll tell you the story as you work. Don’t worry, I have been told by trusted sources that I taste fabulous.”

She was absolutely right.

***

Dave Fulton and Lucy Waltham met on the first day of the first year of Ravine Point Prep’s Summer program. This was years ago, as we all know, and the program was at that time far closer to what other schools would offer. Dave taught English, Lucy taught Science, and they were the entire faculty. Lucy had been on the staff during the regular school year; Dave had just gotten the job for the summer. He was a younger man, a newish teacher of only twenty-seven, compared to Lucy’s thirty-six. There was barely enough interest that first year; classes were segregated by gender, only Ravine Point grads from that prior year could attend, and there were not enough interested students to warrant other classes, like Math. But the Crosses, the richest family in town, or several towns, or most towns, were adamant that their oldest children, twins Summer and Chet, would have a thorough education, so the program was begun. You can’t argue with several billions of dollars of personal wealth.

A curious thing happened on Dave and Lucy’s first day together. They hadn’t spoken at all, save for awkward greetings at the top of the morning. Lunch came, and the two sat alone, as the small crowd of indulged eighteen-year-olds chattered away to the side. Lucy had thick black glasses, straight brown hair, and Dave thought she looked very stolid chewing her sandwich. Lucy thought Dave was something of a jock; he was kind of buff, and his hair was quite short.

But…

Dave liked her serious features. She looked very pretty, really. He liked how she carried herself.

Lucy thought he was a cutie, really, as she nibbled at the crust. A nice guy.

They continued to exchange glances, looks, eye-contact. Lucy put her sandwich down and stood up. Dave stood up too. Lucy began to walk out of the cafeteria, and Dave followed her. She pushed open a side door, and the two descended to the basement, then further to the boiler room.

“Hi,” both of them said at precisely the same time, as they stood in that dim chamber. They giggled at such happenstance.

And Dave’s new suit and Lucy’s freshly laundered work dress fell to the ground, the two yanking and ripping at their underwear as they kissed wildly, like they hadn’t kissed another person in years, and they indulged in forty minutes of sweltering sex, for the remainder of their lunch period. He fucked her on the floor, using his own clothes to cushion her back. She rode his fat seven-inch cock as he sat on a nearby workbench. She went down on him and spat his juice right onto his belly and licked it right up again, which drove him wild. She was on the pill, so he made certain his penis was always slick with its natural gel. He straddled the bench and entered her from behind, a position her prior boyfriend had turned her on to, as the leverage against her clit was phenomenal. The heat of the boiler smothered their bodies’ pleasure, causing the most intense moments to stand out in excruciating boldface. He ejaculated deep inside her pussy, a pleasure he had not indulged in for countless months, and she came just as he pulled out. They sat down, their naked rumps suddenly chilly on the floor.

“Wow, we only have five minutes left,” she marveled, checking her watch. They cleaned up very quickly, dusting off their clothes as best as they could.

The whole encounter was strange enough, but it was doubly weird for the lack of awkwardness. The two of them felt positively great afterward, if a bit achy from all the calisthenics, and they were all smiles the next morning.

They had sex every lunch hour, and began talking about their desires in the faculty room each morning, which seemed an appropriate topic given their strange new relationship.

“It’s like there’s something floating around the air here,” said Lucy, sipping her fancy coffee, “I’ve been pretty sexually active since I left Drew last year, but…”

The two of them chuckled confidentially.

“I know what you’re saying,” replied Dave, “It’s like I don’t even get tired of it anymore… I just want to fuck whenever I’m in here.”

“Must be summer. Maybe there’s a new kind of pollen they’ve been growing out in the Agriculture Center.”

“Heh… that sounds like my kind of science…”

“Yeah… yeah I want to fuck all the time these days. I mean, no offense, you’re really sweet and I love our… thing, but I get horny in class too, you know?

“Oh, God, you should see what those girls wear.”

“Like Summer Cross?”

“Oh, and I bet you don’t have your eye on Chet.”

“I do! I do! It’s ok Dave, they’re all eighteen. Summer’s a good looking girl. Just because she spends more in a month on underwear then both of us do on rent and utilities…”

The two chortled.

“I’ll be honest,” said Dave, “I’d like to have sex with any girl in that class.”

“Oh, Mr. Teacher! That’s a breach of your ethics!”

Silence.

“But I feel the same way,” Lucy smiled, “The boys in my class are de-lish.”

“Well we should do something about it.”

“What? Have an orgy? Like it’s a pep rally?”

“No, we should…”

“Tease them?”

“Yes. We should.”

“Ok. We will. We’ll both have fun in class today. We’ll swap stories at lunch.”

The bell rang. Time to start class for the day.

And .

So Dave entered the classroom that morning full of vim and push. The girls happily ignored him at first, as they always did. He sat at his desk and began to review his papers, wondering exactly how he’d have his fun.

“Mr. Fulton?”

He looked up and his eyes swelled with Summer Cross. Her head a mess of golden curls. Her slightly skinny (though not at all scrawny) body all but molded into gorgeous fleece drawstring pants and an impossibly tight cotton jersey. Cheap clothing for her. Slumming? Her voice was cultured, naturally, excruciatingly snobby. But for one of the richest teens in the western hemisphere, she had a million-watt smile and gentle, genuine eyes, as if her spirit was in constant war to overcome her voice.

“I’d like to say goodbye,” she said, “My parents are pulling me and my brother out. It’s not big enough here, or there’s not enough support for proper… some retarded shit, and I‘m leaving tomorrow. I like you, Mr. Fulton. Bye.”

Her eyes gleamed with sadness as she sauntered over to her seat, her naked heels flopping her sandals against the floor as she took her seat. Dave was disturbed a bit, and figured it would be best to just start the lesson, discussing student-brought books with the class. Fun was a bad idea.

And.

Not for Lucy, entering her own class down the hall at the same time as Dave. She rolled her skirt up extra high, like a tarty Catholic school chick, until the weak green material was well above her knees. Given her freshly untucked blouse, it almost seemed like she was wearing no skirt at all. She also had no socks on within her sneakers: she’d frankly been planning this day well before telling Dave.

She strode into the room, and she didn’t need to even look at her class to feel their eyes absorbing her body. She felt very warm inside, and as she turned to the class her heart began to pound. Every eye couldn’t help but become drunk on her arms and legs and face.

“Ms… Ms. Lucy,” stammered nervous Chet Cross, invoking Lucy’s favorite style of address.

“Later, Chet,” she said to the whole class, “We’re going to be very busy today. It’s time we covered the science of reproduction.”

She stared out into the class, all those wealthy boys in their polo shirts and expensive faux street gear. Eating out of her hands.

“Hmmm. I’m sorry class. My feet ache from running yesterday evening. Do you mind if I take these off?”

Some of the boys were even able to nod ‘yes’.

“Thanks,” she said, grinning as she unlaced her sneakers and pulled her feet right out, becoming naked all the way up to her thighs.

She began to discuss the female anatomy.

And.

Dave began to discuss the class’ readings within his own room. He asked for volunteers. Kylie Simmons eagerly raised her hand. A few of her friends tittered. She was a beautiful, slightly meaty girl of Korean descent. She was barely clad in a lightweight pastel blue skirt and a pink spaghetti-strap top which left a large portion of her belly exposed. For some reason, she was positively thrilled to participate. She pulled out her selection, and several girls giggled as she began.

“This is a book my mom got from one of her friends. I found it in her room. It’s by ‘Anonymous’ and it‘s called ‘A Reconciliation Among Women‘. I really liked it.”

The book, Kylie explained, recounted the adventures of Laura and Esther Robbins, mother and daughter, respectively. The noble pair lived in a small trailer, due to Esther’s father having abandoned them, but the young girl had proven herself to be quite a genius at Physics, and received a scholarship to a terribly prestigious school. The conflict of the book revolved around Esther’s discomfort with both her upbringing, and her mother’s newfound taste for affairs, now that she was alone in her house and aching for physical entertainment away from the responsibilities of parenthood. This was an important area to Kylie to focus on, since much of the text of the book itself was devoted to explicit summary of Laura’s sensual exploits, with the occasional transition to Esther‘s own increasingly enthusiastic antics with her Core Civics professor. Fortunately for the sanctity of mother and daughter relationships throughout the world, Esther’s newly cemented class consciousness was ultimately toppled by a liberating threesome with her mother and her primary lover, who was also a local priest. Hints of incest were modestly relegated to subtext. Two hundred pages, unidentifiable small press.

“So now that I‘ve finished my plot summary, I’ll describe my favorite scene.”

Kylie was positively crazy about the big consummation of Laura and Father Curt’s flirtation. Laura had become temporarily crippled with guilt over her amorous aptitude (as seemed to be a running theme in the book) and had gone to confession in the empty church to erase her sins. Father Curt kept pressing her to reveal more sins, so her soul would be all the cleaner, so Laura provided emphatic descriptions of all of her affairs: the dark man at the liquor store, the local collegiate wrestling star, the nice girl at the public pool. As so often happens in these stories, Laura came to appreciate her erotic experiences while recounting them, and realized that Father Curt secretly appreciated them too. In a thrilling finish, Laura threw open to door to Father Curt’s confessional, only to find him in the throes of ecstasy! Scandalous! But Laura was delighted, and climbed in and closed the door, and the patient reader was thusly treated to several hundreds of words on the difficulty of undressing in a small box, and the passion of sex in such a small space.

“But wasn’t what made it the best.,” Kylie said, “The best was after they were done, they walked around the church ass-naked and, like, talked about the beauty of the human body. It was really meaningful, and that made the fucking better.”

“Did you just curse, Kylie?”

“Whoops.”

Giggles all over, and the girls looked more fascinated than ever. Dave knew he had his chance.

And.

The boys in Lucy’s class were pretty interested in her own presentation. All of them now knew precisely where the clitoris was, and how it could work to benefit everyone. Lucy was very hot now inside.

“And now class, we will discuss the male sexual organs. There are many ways to cause blood to flow into the penis, causing it to become erect and prepared for sexual activity.”

She had been swinging her bare feet around during her presentation as she sat on her desk, her legs modestly crossed, so her class could only see her thighs mashed together under her blouse and what little skirt she had on. She hopped down off the desk.