I was in my final year at college, and was about to start my final teaching practice. Unfortunately the school to which I was allocated was quite a long distance on the other side of the college from the accommodation where I shared with a group of other students, which meant that I would probably have to move into other accommodation for the duration of the teaching practice.
However, when I read thoroughly the notes I had been sent concerning the whereabouts of the school, I noticed that it also contained a telephone number for contacts should I wish to stay closer to the school. I came to a quick decision. After all, the college would pay for my boarding fees, so I made up my mind to try it out. And it would save a good hour's travelling each morning and evening.
I therefore telephoned one and when a woman answered I told her who I was and my reason for ringing. She laughed and explained that she was actually a teacher at the school and had often in the past offered accommodation to other students. She said she had two rooms, in fact, and that a student from another college had already agreed to stay with her, so that she would be looking after the only two students allocated to the school this year.
I immediately agreed to accept her offer of accommodation, then I heard no more until I finally arrived at the school, where I was met by the Head and taken through to the staff room, where I was introduced to the teachers already in there. One of them, a blonde of no more than about thirty, dressed in a tracksuit, then told me that she was Sharon, the woman I was to stay with.
I was about to start a conversation with her when the door opened again and once more the Head came in, this time ushering in a girl of about twentyish, who was introduced as Mandy, the other student. Again Sharon introduced herself as our hostess, and we all three moved to one side of the room to introduce ourselves properly to each other.
It appeared that Mandy was actually going to be attached to Sharon as she was specialising in PE and games, whereas I would be attached to the English teacher who had not yet appeared in the staff room. However, a few minutes later another female teacher entered to be introduced to me as Janice, Head of English.
She, like Sharon, could scarcely have been more than about 30 years of age, and, like Sharon, was quite blonde. Unlike Sharon, though, Janice wore a skirt, and one which immediately drew my attention, as it had a side split which opened at the side to reveal quite an expanse of thigh! So high was the split that it actually allowed some of her bare thigh above the top of her stocking to be seen! I gulped a little, and then controlled myself, although I was sure that she had noticed that my eyes were drawn to this exposure.
However, the morning bell rang for lessons to commence, and we made our way into assembly, and finally into Janice's classroom.
"This morning", she explained, "we have the Upper Sixth form for a double period, after which we have a free period. If you would like to sit at the side, over there, I shall start the discussion and then perhaps you can join in with the students and myself."
I did as instructed, finding that I was actually on the same side as the split in the skirt, which did nothing for my attention which kept wandering as she crossed her legs in her chair. Mind you, her chair was facing the class with no desk between, and the students were also sitting in a half-circle without any desks.
The result of her crossing her legs, though, meant that she was showing a great deal of bare thigh above her visible stocking top, but she seemed quite oblivious to the fact, even though it was a mixed class, and the boys, and even the girls, made no secret of the fact that they, too, were openly ogling the flaunted display.
But what stunned me temporarily was the fact that after she had started the discussion, which if I remember rightly was something to do with Shakespeare, she suddenly spoke in quite a different tone of voice as she addressed one of the boys facing her: "I heard that remark, Darren," she said, "Telling your mates you can see my knickers!"
The class giggled, but they all remained composed, even when she followed this remark by saying, "So I'll show you all, then perhaps we can get back to the lesson!"
And with that she stood up slightly in order to tug the slit of her skirt to the centre, then sat down again, parting her knees widely to reveal her black hold-up fishnet stockings and the black gusset running between her thighs. "Satisfied?" she asked good-humouredly, closing her knees together once more. "You can stare as much as you want but you won't see any more than you can already. Now, let's get back to William Shakespeare!"
She turned to me and smiled, then returned to the lesson, which, surprisingly, progressed quite conventionally, and I found myself, like the rest of the class, almost forgetting
Janice's provocativeness as we all warmed to the subject and genuinely discussing the topic.
