I was only fifteen when I moved to the St. James Boarding School for girls, where my aunt taught. For reasons and circumstances I won't get into here, I had to leave the care of my parents to stay with my aunt, my only living relative. I was still very much a child at the time; skinny, shy, and utterly inexperienced. My anxiety was actually so immense that despite literally living on campus with aunt, I was taught by a tutor in the confines of her large and austere home. Coupled with the fact that anyone close to my age around me was female, I had no friends at all during my late teen years. It was in my last year of school that I discovered that girls were not the terrifying people I had assumed.
Around the time I turned eighteen, I suddenly grew confidence in myself. I had always known I was reasonably good looking, but for some reason had never considered the idea that anyone would be interested in me. It was actually the introduction of alcohol that gave me the final push into chasing girls. The first few times I got drunk were always at my aunt's dinner parties, where the guests were mainly faculty, all decades older than myself. The buzz of the wine threw my inhibitions to the wind, and I loudly debated anything and everything with anyone who would listen. I was very interested in film at the time, and I was having a heated discussion with one of the younger art teachers, Ms Brown, on the topic of French new wave.
As the sweet haze of the wine dulled my thoughts, I noticed how beautiful she was in the soft candlelight, with her gentle auburn hair tied up behind her head in a neat bun. She couldn't have been over thirty-five, but she dressed as the rest of them did, in very modest and concealing shirts and skirts, the proper Catholic attire. She was resting her head against her hand, gently smiling at me, her eyes half closed but looking into mine as though I was the only person in the room. She laughed every now and then, gently pushing against my shoulder as she did. It was absolutely delightful, I was completely mesmerized with her.
It wasn't until that night after everyone had left and I was alone in my room that I realized that she had been flirting with me. And that was it, the final boost of confidence I needed. The next day I asked my aunt if I could attend the school proper, and with some convincing of the board, I was able to register there for my last year. The decision was entirely impulsive. I just wanted to get at the girls.
And so I did. Being the only male in the entire school was both a blessing and a curse. For one, I still had no friends, since no one wanted to be singled out be doing anything with me. But on the other hand, I was often the center of attention, when I walked down halls they would all stare at me, or whisper to each other and giggle. I have to admit I felt like a god. I shamelessly flirted as much as I could, but would only be able to have very brief conversations with any of them, before they ran off giggling. I was constantly horny, imagining their perky little breasts under that tight uniform, their little bubble butts under their tartan skirts, and their plump vulvas hiding in their panties. I was obsessed, though despite all this I was still a virgin, all the girls were too shy to ever respond to my advances.
The teachers noticed of course, always giving disapproving looks at me as I flirted with the girls, shaking their heads and sometimes even coming and breaking it up. The parents were horrified when they discovered my presence at the school, and after many complaints and outrages, some of the girls were pulled from my classes, or even the school. The only reason I was allowed to stay was my aunts considerable sway at the institution, having taught there for nearly twenty-five years.
One day as I was chatting up a cute little redhead by her locker, Ms Brown walked by. I turned my head a little to catch her eye, and saw she was smiling ever so slightly. As she passed, I heard her tsk-tsk-tsk very faintly, before she rounded the corner and was gone. I totally lost my concentration with the girl I was talking to, who sighed impatiently and walked away in a pout. I didn't even watch her ass as she left, I was too busy thinking about Ms Brown and her shapely and large breasts.
A week after that incident, and after Ms Brown seeing me in similar situations a few times, I saw her in the hall again after school, and smiled at her. She smiled back, and walked into her class. I was on my way to use the teacher's bathroom, a luxury I was afforded being the only boy in the school. It had only one toilet, and a real door that actually locked. It was also by far the cleanest facility in the school.
As I washed my hands afterward, I heard a knock. I opened the door to see Ms Brown standing in the frame, looking at me sternly.
"We need to talk Ryan."
I raised my eyebrows inquisitively and smiled a little. "In here? Right now?"
She nodded solemnly, and walked by me into the little bathroom. I went back to the sink wash the remaining soap off my hands, when I felt Ms Brown standing directly behind me.
