Apologies for the delay in getting part three out, but I was hung up on how to continue the sorry tale of our hero Julian. That has been overcome and I'm now back in the groove.
For new readers you don't need to read the other two parts, but it really will help.
As always I use Australian slang terms and spelling, except for when one character speaks I use 'ass instead of arse'. Deal with it.
Also pop us a message. We love to read them. Just don't be a cunt.
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I know I'm in trouble.
Ever since I fucked Erin and Georgie and subsequently discovered that I'm a teacher at their school, I've been on borrowed time.
Then in a state of horny mindlessness this morning I fucked an Asian house maid whose husband turns out to be somewhat of a violent chap.
On the upside though I know my head teacher is a swinger and, above all, the wife of the principal likes to be fucked by any number of men.
All up, on balance, my life might be crap, but by fuck I've been getting some nice pussy and I have quite a lot of information on my peers..
Now as I enter the school grounds the sight of the aforementioned Georgie and Erin sends both a shiver of terror, and one of desire, through my core, for only minutes earlier Georgie had cupped my cock in her hand, and with a serious tone, made a threat of telling Lin's husband, who as I said likes to punch on, about our spontaneous fuck session just that morning.
Then I see our lovely, god-fearing principal strolling nonchalantly across the playground and all I can think of is his wife, tattooed legs akimbo and being stuffed with cock. The sight of students disobeying the no mobile phone rule was of little concern to me as I focused my thoughts on why my shirt was left behind after the party.
I had my excuse all planned out, and it worked.
"Oh there it is." I exclaimed excitingly, "I love that shirt, I think it fell out of my car when I got changed for the swim." I held it up examining it for damage.
"Did you wash it?" I asked, "It must have got dirty on the driveway."
Sharon stared at me closely. Looking for any sign I was lying.
"I found it inside," she said.
"Really? Someone must have picked it up. I bought this in London three years ago..." I trailed off my discourse to add a sense of loss and drama, and change the topic of the conversation from its loss, to its discovery.
"Were you with your girlfriend when you bought it?"
I delayed my response, again for effect. "Yeah, ex-girlfriend you mean." That part was true at least.
"No news on that front then? She hasn't come around to the idea of moving?"
"Not at all," I sighed. "To be honest, it was pretty much dead in the water, this place just gave it the final dunking it needed."
I genuinely choked up a bit when I said it. It worked a treat, the inquisition was over and I went on through the routine and rigours of the day.
It was only when the day was over and we had our usual chit chat that I introduced a couple of subjects that had been playing on my mind.
Recalling the mention of a boat club when I was hiding in their house I crafted an open question of the staff room's occupants.
"Hey all you locals," I began, "I've never done any freshwater fishing before, is there a fishing club in town or even a boat club I can hire a tinny from?"
Whereas most of them took it as a genuine question and gave me places where I could fish, Sharon once more gave me that long look of suspicion which I could see from the corner of my eye. I just took notes, avoided eye contact, and it wasn't until Kathy, the skinny brunette spoke, did I get any other tantalising information.
"There is a boat club in town," she said with a wry smile, "But it's certainly not where you'd go for your fishing gear."
'Kachinng' I thought, finally a lead.
"What do you mean? Do they just rent speed boats or something, not run-abouts?"
"Neither, I think. It's just an old clubhouse building on the river that gets used for private functions."
"Right," I was in. "Whereabouts? Upstream, downstream, in town?"
"On McClure Road, about four k's west."
"I'm sure he's not interested in some old building," Sharon said, "Although Tom was a member."
This was it. Confirmation, in a way, that my predecessor was involved in some sort of club that I suspected was all part of their swinger's lifestyles.
"So," I swung my chair around and faced them both. "How do I join? I don't play golf so some boating would be good."
Sharon tapped her pen on the table as she pondered her response.
"You're staying at the pub, right?"
"Sure am."
"I'll get someone to contact you later tonight."
"I could do it," Kathy said.
"No," Sharon immediately interjected. "I'll find someone available. What's your phone number?"
I rattled off my number and caught a glimpse of Kathy writing down the number as well before giving me the up and down treatment and quickly turning back to her work.
The work conversation returned and soon enough we were all heading out the door as if all was normal.
"Marcus said to pop into the real estate agent, I think he may have a house for you," Sharon called out as she left. "Tom's old place."
Not only did I have this Tom guy's classes, desk and chair, but I was in line to get his house as well. At least the rent would be cheap.
As soon as I got back to the hotel I got changed and rode my bike down to the estate agent with only about 10 minutes to spare.
Huffed and with a slight glimmer of sweat on my brow I opened the door and nearly fainted when I saw the tall slender woman, with a tattoo on her ankle, stand up to meet me.
"Ahh, we meet again," said Kelly, the principal's wife. "Julian isn't it?"
Images of her ankle, filmed less than 24 hours earlier, were embedded in my brain, and indeed in the phone held securely in my hand.
"Yes, sorry," I was ready for Marcus, not for Kelly. "Still trying to remember everyone I meet, it's been a bit confronting coming to a new town, and all that."
"I know exactly what you mean," she said. "We moved here eight years ago, for only two years, or so the contract said, but we love it, everyone is very friendly."
"Uh, yeah, well," I commenced saying, but fortunately Marcus must have heard our discussion and was a delightful diversion for me.
"Hey bloke," he shook my hand and offered me a beer which I refused as politely as I could.
"I'm going for a ride after this, next time maybe?"
"Yeah, no worries, you know where we live so pop out at any time. You could even ride that thing out if you wanted to," he gestured to my bike.
"I suppose I could."
"But for now mate, put it inside here and we'll lock up and drive you over to the teacher's housing for a look see."
Being a real estate agent in the country requires you to drive an all wheel drive of some description. In this case Marcus drove an Audi. Pretty much useless in most conditions, but by Christ it was comfortable.