Elizabeth sat in the headmistress’s waiting room alongside her secretary, Olivia. Olivia’s furtive glances were far from reassuring, and yet she couldn’t seem to get the idea out of her head that Olivia was a lesbian who fancied the shit out of her. She probably wasn’t, but the thought excited her.

The door suddenly opened. “Elizabeth, please come in.” Sandra stood to one side, allowing room for Elizabeth to enter.

They sat on either side of the grand desk in the centre of the room. Sandra studied the notes before her and sighed.

“This is not easy for me, Elizabeth,” she sighed, “But we have come into possession of a video which shows, unequivocally, you engaging in sexual activities in a public place.”

Sandra waited for a reply, but didn’t receive any, only the silent stare that confirmed that Elizabeth’s career was over traversed the desk.

“We have also been reliably informed that you have engaged, sexually, with another pupil of this school – during school hours.”

Again, Sandra waited for a response, but the only one forthcoming was a deep swallow as Elizabeth stared straight ahead and fiddled with the hem of her skirt.

“I would like to say this cannot go on, but the nature of these accusations is, in no uncertain terms, quite damming. We cannot tolerate this behaviour. As you well know, our job is hard enough without any member of staff bringing shame and disrespect upon our school.”

Elizabeth waited for the final punch to her stomach.

“Do you have anything to say about these matters. It’s in your interest to say something.” Sandra pleaded with her to deny the accusation, but the damming video evidence would stand in any case.

It’s happening, Elizabeth thought. Her lust for life, her visits to the rough side of town, her need to fulfil her sexual deviations, all of her actions over the last four or five months. This is what it’s come down to.

Dismissal.

And yet, she couldn’t deny that she hadn’t enjoyed any of it.

“We have no other option –” Sandra’s words hung in the air like a guillotine.

 “Do you have nothing to say, Elizabeth?”

Elizabeth looked to her left and then right; there wasn’t a cane in sight. Whatever happened to the days when even the teachers got caned for misbehaving? She eventually looked directly at Sandra, her stare resigned to the fact that this would be her last day at work.

“I’ve really enjoyed my time here, Sandra,” she smiled, thinking of all the good times, all those students she had helped, all the confidence she gave them in this ever-changing world of inhumanity. “But, I’m afraid all the accusations are true. It’s been a pleasure working with you and the rest of the team. If you will accept my resignation, I would be honoured.”

It sounded so clinical, yet Sandra’s heart weighed heavily. She didn’t want to see a good teacher go, but her hands were more than tied on this occasion. They were bound in chains attached to concrete blocks that were on the verge of being pushed into the River Clyde from the Squinty Bridge.

“Accepted,” Sandra said. “It’s sad to see you leave, Elizabeth.”

Both women stood, with Sandra escorting Elizabeth to the door. Before opening it, she placed her hand on Elizabeth’s shoulder and smiled at her.

“Was Billy worth it? Was he a good fuck?” she asked, biting her lip in anticipation.

Elizabeth nodded, opened the door, and for the last time ever, left the headmistress’s study with the pleasing confirmation that she wasn’t alone in this sexually twisted world.

In time, the necessary papers were prepared, and Elizabeth received her notice and the last payment from her school. She left them on the dining room table in full view. Her husband would find them eventually. She drove her Merc to the Titwood pub to think hard and contemplate her future. Could it get any worse?

When she arrived home, there was a barrage of questions.

“How has this happened? What have you done? You can’t let them do this. You’ve given years of your time to this…this school.” Her husband was furious.

Her wages were needed alongside his to keep and maintain the luxurious house and the lifestyle they had become accustomed to. Elizabeth waited for a pause in his outburst. She had thought about it long and hard, while in the Titwood. She had made her decision. She waited for the opportunity to present itself. The noise died down.

“I’m leaving.” She said.

“You’re what?”

“I’m leaving – you.” She stated the facts, plain and simple. She paused, allowing the cogs to turn, for his engineering brain to interpret them.

Shock. Disbelief. Anger. Outrage. All those emotions crossed his face, one sweeping after the other, accompanied by facial colours ranging from green to red. Elizabeth felt the need to explain. Finalise it. Forever.

“I don’t love you anymore. Our sex life is boring and non-existent. I’ve been fucking around with various blokes behind your back, all of whom are ten times the man you are. They excite me, please me with their big dicks and eager tongues. They can’t get enough of me, of these –” her hands wobbled her tits from side to side.” Way to go, Betty, she thought.

She waited for a response, but all Elizabeth found was silence.

“And – the reason I resigned was that I fucked a student in the bookstore of my classroom.”

Her husband’s mouth remained open.

“Is that enough? Or do you want more details about what I got up to at church?”

A pin could have dropped, and the next-door neighbours would have heard it. Her husband was totally lost for words, standing in a pool of disbelief at her vehement words.

“Of course,” he said after a short while. His head nodded reverently, like a donkey.

“I’ll pack my bags then,” she said, raising an eyebrow and heading for the bedroom.

Tears poured from her eyes as soon as she left the kitchen. What the fuck had she done? She reasoned that the school incident would be revealed anyway, and that in itself would be enough for her husband to own her soul for all eternity. She wasn’t going to allow that to happen. Not in a month of Sundays.

The whole truth and nothing but the truth rang free.

With her bags packed, Elizabeth piled them into the driveway, all four of them. One, totally allocated to her lingerie, including the ones that survived Hill sixty.

Her husband caught up with her as she opened the boot of her car.

“You can’t have the Merc,” he said, “that’s company property.”

He was right, it was. Elizabeth nodded and ordered a taxi.

“Where to?” asked the driver. She didn’t know.

“Anywhere that will have my slutty ass would be good for now,” she responded. It earned her raised eyebrows, but the driver pulled into the road and started to drive. She finally came up with an address to give him.

Her parents' place was her port of call, and in this storm, a welcome one for a while until the questions started. She tried her best to answer them with some pride in her voice. Sometimes, that failed, and the shaky guilt caused her voice to waver.

Divorce proceedings followed suit. One day married, good job, excellent lifestyle – the next single, looking for work and virtually homeless. The only reason that the newspapers didn’t get hold of all her misdemeanours was that her husband was too embarrassed to denounce her publicly, and the school could ill afford the bad publicity. Irrevocable breakdown in marriage – said the certificate, making her smile at the clause. Irrevocable indeed, she thought.

She still had money. Her husband didn’t fleece her completely. Much of it was hers anyway, squirrelled away for a rainy day. Little did she know how much rain there would be.

In time, Elizabeth put a down payment on a two-bedroom terraced house not far from the Titwood. Its one-hundred-and-seventy-five-thousand price tag was just within her range as long as she got herself a job. And she did get a job with the help of Dark Dickie’s references. What he put on that form, she could only guess. Big tits – nice ass – flaunts herself and teases the clients. Elizabeth welcomed a job as a waitress at the same Granary as Richard.

How her lifestyle had changed. Living in the Rough side of town. Waitressing. It was the only place that her Nell Gwyn outfits didn’t look out of place, but she was informed by Dark Dickie that there could be no baby oil behind the counter. She settled into the job wonderfully, loving every minute of the day by teasing the men and even flirting with the women. Her stress levels were nonexistent, and she loved every minute of her day. Of her new life. Of freedom. Oh! How that image of William Wallace flourished in her mind.

Big Mac was a huge presence in her new life, though he always called her Betty, dismissing her real name as associated with a lady that would be out of his reach, socially. It was his way of dealing with the fact that she meant something to him, hoping that he meant something to her, too.

She was feeling proud to be in their company. More so Big Mac than the others. He made her laugh. Complimented her whenever they met up, even bought her flowers when she first moved into the house. She remembered the message on the card accompanying the flowers.

At last, a proper house. Hope you enjoy your stay. Big Mac xxx

One Saturday afternoon, and close enough to Christmas for her to do something about it, she tapped Big Mac on the shoulders. She nodded her head towards the red door in the corner. He smiled and started to head for the bar when she pulled him back.

“We won’t be needing that,” she said.

She led him inside but said nothing, closed the door, sat in the nearest chair and started to unbutton his jeans. With his cock removed and growing nicely, she started licking the bulbous head, pushing her lips over it, sucking on it, letting it swell and engorge.

Big Mac looked on in awe. Marvelling at the way she seemed to worship his dick. Her soft swaying breasts, although hidden, still made their presence known when she pushed his bell-end between them for a quick stroke. The way she sucked his cock was incredible, sensual and erotic. She required nothing else in return.

She made it last because she wanted to. Taking her time to squeeze every last enjoyment out of the act of blowing her man. He didn’t know it yet, but that was the only thought on her mind. With his cock sticking out horizontally, she positioned the flat of her tongue on the underside and let it slide all the way in. Sucking deeply on his crown before pulling back and repeating the whole process over and over.

Big Mac was savouring the feeling, the build-up, feeling the intense pleasure her mouth provided with the smooth feel of her tongue.

A knock on the door startled both of them.

“Are you gonna be long in there?” a voice shouted. The woman seemed keen to move them along, to sit in the chair that Betty sat in.

Betty looked into Mac’s eyes.

“Come on in,” she shouted. And then went back to performing her intense erotic felatio on her guy.

“Ho-ly shit!” exclaimed the girl.

When she came into view, Betty could see it was the same girl who had used the room on her first experience in the Titwood. Her gaze was fixed on Betty’s oral technique. Strokes, long and slow, and holding Mac’s dick by the base to keep it in one orientation. She devoured it.

“Fuck, me, teacher,” said the other voice.

It had to be Billy O’Dowd, didn’t it? It couldn’t have been anyone else.

“Is she the fucking teacher you told me about, Billy?” said the girl.

He just nodded.

“Love her tits, I want tits like hers one day, mine’s are teeny.”

Billy would have to disagree; the girl's tits were big enough for his cock. It’s just that she was slim with it.

“Fucking ace with her tongue, is our teacher,” Billy complimented Betty.

Big Mac could feel how good she was. Even with the matter-of-fact conversation happening all around them, Big Mac was feeling the pressure. The constant thrum of her mouth as she seemed to let out a sigh on every stroke, and the rhythm she set up was hypnotic, but most of all, it was the smile on her face that he saw every time she slid down his shaft. Betty was loving it. Relishing the feel, the heat, the taste. And waiting patiently for her rewards.

“You gonna cum, pal,” said the girl, “only me and Billy want to – have a quick shag.”

“Don’t let us stop you,” Big Mac retorted. The smile on his face was short-lived, with his pending orgasm just moments away.

Billy moved behind the girl, cupped her tits and started to massage them. He unbuttoned her blouse and scooped her tits out of her bra. To Big Mac, they looked perfect, smooth, round, fucking edible, and the nipples were at least half an inch long. Billy started rubbing them.

It was all too much, even for Betty, who noticed them out of the corner of her eye; she would have loved to have stopped, stood up and sucked on the girl’s nipples, but she had other goals in mind, and one of them was about to make a rapid appearance.

Big Mac shot his load as Betty’s mouth was descending his shaft. She took the full force of the first jet of spunk to the back of her throat, setting her early warning tonsil alarm off in the process. Her expertise was all that stopped her from gagging. Swallowing quickly, she recovered and waited for the onslaught that she knew Mac could provide.

“He’s fucking cumming,” said the girl. “Look at that cock pulse.”

Even Billy looked at the way Big Mac’s dick seemed to throb and pulsate, squeezing all his cum and channelling it down his rod of steel.

“Look at that – fucking gorgeous,” said the girl, pointing at Betty’s face.

Her mouth was full, too full; she held Big Mac’s bell-end just inside her lips, eagerly sucking and swallowing, but the buildup was too much. Spunk slipped from the sides of her mouth, flowed down her cheek and dripped onto her exposed breast. She had started to use both hands on his shaft just for control.

The girl was held back by Billy; she was halfway to Betty, half crouching in a motion that would see her scoop the cum from the side of Betty’s mouth and from her tits. Betty could see the move and was disappointed when Billy intervened.

Big Mac straightened, holding Betty’s head as still as he could while pumping his cream into her. The slow squeeze of his buttocks pushed all the liquid that remained in his balls into her waiting and willing mouth.

With every drop consumed, Betty stood up. She wiped her cheek and chin and scooped the remnants into her mouth. She swallowed while looking into the girl’s eyes.

Betty had found a new playmate for sure. She knew that look in the girl’s eyes. She knew exactly what she was thinking. Betty consummated the thoughts she must be having. On her way past them, she bent forward, lifted her breasts to her mouth and sucked on the girl’s nipple.

The girl nearly came on the spot.

“Aww, Miss, you never said you did, lassies, ‘n all!” exclaimed Billy.

Betty smiled.

“I don’t–not yet anyway!”

Betty turned to leave, letting both of them get up to whatever shenanigans they had in mind. Big Mac had already packed his floppy whoppy away into his trousers and joined her.

Sitting back at their table, Betty had a huge grin on her face.

“I got my Christmas present, but you never found my Christmas present for you,” she smirked.

Big Mac looked at her with a blank expression on his face. She had to raise her hands and shake her boobs for him to get the picture. The penny finally dropped.

Big Mac, wobbled them too, “Is that it?” he asked.

“No, silly, it’s inside.”

He dug his hands into her cleavage and found a metal object. He looked at it, still warm from her ample flesh. He studied it, looked into her eyes, waiting. The silence was immense. The pub contained ample people, all of them involved in different conversations, but it sounded empty. The clock on the back wall remained still, not even the second hand moved, his heart must have stopped because he could no longer feel any blood flowing through him. He dared not say a word in case he got the wrong end of the stick. And then his heart started beating faster than a speeding bullet, his hands felt clammy, and his anticipation had reached the Martian atmosphere and was still heading outwards.

He looked into Betty’s eyes and then to the key in his hand.

“Will you move in with me?” she asked.

Big Mac lurched across the table, his leg crashing hard into the table leg, an oh! Fuck left his mouth just as his right hand managed to rescue a half pint of beer before it went hurtling across the room. Placing it upright, his head continued forward, his lips crashing onto Betty’s, his left hand cradling her neck.

It was a firm yes from Big Mac.

His showering kisses went on for ages.

“Get a room, you two,” Shouted the barman.

“We’re bidin in the gether,” Big Mac shouted back, over his shoulder, before more kisses followed.

“You’ve made my day, my Christmas, my whole year, you fucking, belter.”

It would be fair to say that Betty felt anxious once the initial celebrations were over, but she couldn’t think of a better man to spend the rest of her life with.

She imagined her new world unfolding in the Titwood on weekends, being naughty now and then, watching television at home, taking hot baths and showers together, inviting Dark Dickie for those innocent evening meals, the fun, the laughter, the sex. Her mind overflowed at the thought of sex.

Snuggled together. Yes, snuggled together.

Forever happy in the Rough Side of Town.

She buried her head into Big Mac’s shoulder, holding him close. A secret, so quiet, escaped her mouth, lost in the folds of his thick Aran jumper.

“I love you.”

Betty is back, and with her, Elizabeth McCullogh rests in peace, blowing in the wind through the streets on the ‘Rough Side of Town.’