I lazily stroked my cock, as I watched Lisa sensuously pull up her plain white panties, concealing her cum filled pussy and that cute little bubble arse. It wasn't long before a small, damp patch formed around her slit, betraying the fact that she had been fucked, very recently. She took time adjusting her plain white bra to fit properly over her C cup breasts – her still aroused nipples pushed hard against the thin fabric - then put on her white blouse and buttoned it.

It took but a second or so to get off my bed and help her get her skirt back on, making sure to kiss and lick that damp patch, just so I could taste and breath in her scent one more time. With her tie properly done up and wearing her school blazer and black shoes Lisa was, once again a blond, good looking, seventeen-year-old schoolgirl: a student and resident of the Samantha Cockburn-Lush Private College for Girls, no less, a place for rich, elite families to pay a whole lot more, for less education.

Little Lisa stood on tip-toe and draped her arms around my neck to give me a deep, cock tightening kiss, “Ummm, same time tomorrow, Sunday?” she asked, looking at me with those soulful blue eyes. The girls still had to wear their uniforms over the weekend, even though the afternoons were free time. Naturally they weren't allowed off the school property. Nor were they allowed anywhere near boys.

“Yeah, sure Lisa,” I said, “and don't forget to bring that vibrator I bought for you.” I added, sliding both hands under her skirt to pat and squeeze her sweet wee bum.

“Okay, I won't, but Melinda might be borrowing it, if you know what I mean,” she said, with a giggle, as we walked though to the kitchenette and dining room at the back of my digs. I let her out the back door.

There was an extra, sexy little swing to Lisa's hips as she walked down the back garden and disappeared into the thicket of bushes and trees bordering her educational establishment. Oh, yes, it was really, really enjoyable being a male teacher at a place so full of hot, horny, nubile schoolgirls, some of them a little rebellious and, sometimes, a tad naughty.

~ ~ ~

So, how did I, a tallish, 'ruggedly good looking', twenty-eight-year-old male graduate, manage to get to teach in an establishment that prided itself on rejecting ninety-nine-point-nine percent of men who applied? Suffice it to say, mentioning having a boyfriend I could use as a reference, while heavily hinting that I wasn't terribly interested in the opposite sex, had some effect on Ms Veronica Hawkins, Head Mistress and prime battle-axe.

One bonus, was that I was allowed to live in one of the little teacher's cottages, that had been built around the edges of the school grounds. It was cosily private, with a reasonably sized back garden, enclosed on two sides by tall hedges, plus the aforementioned bushes and trees at the bottom end.

Another, super-dooper, heavy-duty, extra-sized bonus was that, due to a night staff shortage, I was occasionally allowed to roam through the senior girl's dormitory as they were getting ready for bed, listening out for any problems or complaints. Naturally, I was very careful not to stare too much at all the gorgeous, teenage tits, bums and pussies that were often on display. For their part, the girls were good natured, sometimes a little flirtatious with “Mr Cummerlott”, as they had to call me officially or “Steve”, unofficially.

Even better, I was soon able to establish an amorous liaison with Helen Catersham, the physical education teacher: although such things were verboten between staff, that didn't mean it didn't happen.

~ ~ ~

Helen was a very attractive, athletic, gymnastic, brown-eyed brunette, about five-feet six-inches tall and twenty-five years old, with pert, compact B cup breasts, a tight, curvaceous arse and long legs. There was an immediate spark, a mutual, physical attraction, as soon as I opened the door to her one Saturday afternoon, about two weeks after I was hired.

“Hello Mr Cummerlott, I just thought I'd drop in and say welcome to the staff and welcome to our little neighbourhood,” she said, cheerfully, as I invited her in, “I'm better known as Helen, by the way.”

“Hi Helen, I'm Steve,” I said, “come on through, make yourself comfortable. Would you like an Espresso, or a glass of wine, tea, maybe?”

We sat chatting for a while, sipping on a glass of wine and sitting side by side on my big, comfortable couch. Pretty soon, we were eyeing each other up, with more than a passing interest. I decided to take a gamble.

“I have to say, Helen, I can't help thinking that - if you don't mind my saying so - you have such a gorgeous, athletic looking body.”

“Oh,” she blushed, “um, thank you. I like to keep in shape, you know, partly for me, partly because, er, well, it makes me better in bed? I mean, uhhh, hmmm...” She blushed even more and I could see her nipples starting to strain against her sweatshirt, “s-so how about you,' she asked, trying to change the subject, “is your boyfriend...?”

“Boyfriend?” I said, looking totally mystified, “I don't have a boyfriend; I've had several girlfriends, but I ain't interested in guys at all.”

“So, you're not actually… but Ms Hawkins says that you're...”

“Gay? Oh, no, that's a misunderstanding: In fact, it's a complete presumption on Ms Hawkins' part. It's pretty bloody annoying, really.“

“Oh!” said Helen, her mouth forming an 'O'. Her attractive chest was heaving, her cheeks were flushed and her blue-grey eyes dark with arousal as we stared at each other. She gave a little, invitational growl in the back of her throat.

As soon as our mouths met, our lips opened and her eager, velvet tongue met and wrestled with mine. She lay down on the couch and parted her legs wide, so I could dry hump her, grinding and pounding my tumescent manhood against her receptive mound. We stopped for a brief moment to take off our sweatshirts and undo her skimpy, lacy black bra. Soon, Helen was whimpering and purring in sweet ecstasy, as I kissed my way down her neck and onto her blushing chest, finding her erogenous nooks and crannies, before planting kisses all over her firm, half-apple breasts. Her hot-pink nipples and areolae responded to my sucking and gentle nibbling by becoming stiff and erect.

I hauled her track pants off, revealing her skimpy, lacy black panties. “Hmmm, how come you get to shave your pussy bare, when the girls aren't allowed to, Miss Catersham? And how do you get to wear black lace, when the girls are only allowed plain white or naval blue 'undergarments'?” I asked, playfully kissing and licking her groin and sliding my tongue up and down the sides of her clean-shaven mons.

“Mmmm, just the perks of the job,” she purred, sensuously rocking her hips.

“Well,” I said, standing up and dropping my pants and briefs to the floor, “I think I'll have to confiscate these scandalous items and fuck your gorgeous pussy to help you remember the dress code.”

“Oh, yes, please, please do it!” gasped Helen, staring at my thick, throbbing, intricately veined seven-inches as it bounced heavily in front of her.

She groaned expectantly as I almost ripped her panties off, then lifted her right leg over my shoulder. “Ooooh, God, yeah… oooooh… hmmm, uuuuhhh!” she gasped, as I pushed my electrified, deep-red glans against her wet, tight entry and kept pushing, until my phallus was deep into her heated, pulsing womanhood. She made a similar noise as I pulled out about two-thirds, then pushed back in, until I could feel her cervix.

“Woah, Helen, you're tighter than I expected,” I grunted, enjoying the way her pussy hugged my cock like a tight velvet glove, “how'd you do that?”

“Mmmm, I give my pussy a workout, every day. Now, can we just fuck?” she demanded, rubbing her labia in circles above my buried shaft.

So I fucked her, slow and steady at first. But Helen wanted more: she begged me to fuck her harder. And harder. Until I was pounding her pussy, harder and deeper than I thought possible. Her breasts bounced with each shock wave that pounded through her: my balls made hollow slapping noises against her arse and perineum: sex-sweat made our bodies slick and shiny.

“Yeeeeaaahhhh... uhhhhhhh... mmmm... fuuuck, oooohh, fuuck!!!” She mewled and yelped, catching deep breaths, “mmmmm... uuugggh... oooh, huhhh… gaww… uhh, uhh, fuck my cunt... oooh... yeah, fuck-my-tight-little-CUNT!!” She was gritting her teeth, her hot sultry eyes looking into mine, “fuck... fuuuck... fuuck... mmmm, mmm, uhh, uhhh, oohfuck...”

Finally, Helen's vaginal walls convulsed in orgasmic spasms, tightening around my manhood as she lifted her hips and came with a loud “UuuuuuHHHuhhh!” A spray of hot pussy juice soaked my pubes. She lay back panting, her hot eyes locked on mine, sliding her wet fingertips up and down her wet, puffy labia with my manhood still deep inside her. I didn't give her much respite from the pounding.

“I'm going to have to fuck you until I cum, Miss Catersham,” I growled, sliding my cock slowly in and out of her, “I'm going to fuck and cum inside you all afternoon!”

“Shit, yeah! Do it! Fill me with your hot cum. Push your big fucking cock-right-ahhhmmm-up-inside-my-tight-little-cunt! Ohhh, yeah… fu-u-uck, huhhh, huuuhhhh!!!” Uhhh... uhhh!”

Her yelps and whimpering became high-pitched mewling, her vagina making liquid, slurping noises as my cock sluiced her juices out of her. She yelped, mewled and squealed, her pussy spasming in at least two more orgasms. Then, at last, it was my turn.

“Yeeeah, here it comes,” I growled, thrusting hard, “uhhhh... yeeeeeaaahhhhh,” my cock twitched and pulsed exquisitely, pumping a hot load through my electrified glans. I pulled out, another thrust, more cum splattered over her cervix; another thrust emptied me out.

Miss Catersham lay back, breasts heaving, groin and legs trembling, “Fuuuck, oh fuck, uuhhhhh... oh, wow,” she gasped, “oh, my pussy... fuuuck, uuuuhhh, that felt so-fucking goo-ood! Uhhhh, oh, fuck, where did you learn to fuck like that?”

Slowly releasing my cock from her liquid velvet grip, I got down on all fours over her, looking into her steamy eyes, “you enjoyed that, huh?”

She lifted her hips, sensuously pushing her wet, heated mound against my stomach, “Mmmm, shit yeah, best man fuck I've had in ages,” she purred, stroking my still half erect cock, “I want more of this inside me.”

An interesting thought had been rattling around in the back of my mind for a while, and I decided to try it out, “So, Miss Catersham, do you talk this dirty to all the students you're fucking?”

Bullseye! Her eyes opened wide with alarm, “How the hell did you know?” she gasped, “oh, fuck!” She collapsed back on the couch, “please, for shit's sake, don't...”

“Tell anyone? Hey, it's all right,” I said, soothingly, stroking and kissing her breasts, “I'm not condemning you, nor am I a snitch,” her body relaxed, “in fact, I think it's great that you're teaching the girls about sexual matters, in such a practical way.”

“Really? Uhhh, that's so nice... oh, yeah, my nipples are really sensitive...”

“Mm, hm,” I briefly released her nipple from my mouth, “it's commendable the way that you've taken some of these nubile young ladies under your wing, so to speak. Look, we both know that sex education is sadly lacking here at Samantha Cockburn-Lush, right?”

“Ahhh, yeah, it's almost scandalous, in this day and age.”

“So,” I said, kissing my way down her stomach, “why not a little 'sex education' from a male perspective, as well as female? Are any of the girls you're 'educating' likely to be, um, interested?”

“Oh, you devious shit, you just want to fuck... uhhhhh!” By now, I had pushed my shoulders under Helen's thighs and was peeling her dripping wet labia wide open, “uhhhhh... how many girls do you plan on fucking?”

I had to stop and think, “You mean, 'educating on sexual matters'? Well, I guess no more than three, maybe four at a time? We'll see.”

She lifted her hips and yelped, as I pushed my tongue deep inside her vulva and lapped at it, relishing her oestrogen-charged wetness flowing into my mouth, “Ohh, shit, Steve,” she gasped, humping my face, “uhhhhhh, oh God, mmmm... you, ahhhh, shouldn't be... even thinking of fucking, mmm... mmm... oh, yeah... your... uh-uh-uh, students... mmmuuuuhhhh!!!” The last few words were accompanied by a delightful gush of savoury femme-juice.

Licking my lips clean, I looked up at her, “How many students are you fucking right now?”

“Um, ahhhhhh, four,” she gasped, as I teased her clitoris with a wet fingertip, “but it's different for me. I won't get anyone, you know, uhhhhh, pregnant!”

“And with the proper precautions, neither will I. C'mon Helen, you can help out with that, can't you?” Besides,” I continued, noting by her expression that we were thinking along similar lines, “as long as the girls are of age, and consenting to coming under our, ahh, guidance?”

“Hmmmm,” she said, “as long as we make it a 'fun, interesting and educational experience'?” she said, quoting from the 'Parent's Guide to Samantha Cockburn-Lush Private College for Girls.' “Okay, I'm in,” she got off the couch and got down on all fours, in front of me, with her hips lifted high, “now how about another fuck to seal the deal, you sly, conniving bastard.”