More On Tempting Schoolteachers.

“Cometh the hormones, cometh the feelings” is a very true statement, but just because the feelings are there doesn’t mean the maturity to handle them is. 

There have been cases around here where teachers have yielded to temptation. They, naturally, are having the living shit kicked out of them in prison for being ‘paedophiles’, even though in many cases the advances were made repeatedly by a student who knew precisely what they wanted. Oh, and another thing, here, the age of consent is 16, but not if you’re a teacher. If you teach for a living, there is no age of consent the whole time that student is with you. So in a secondary school, even if they’re 18, there is still a court case coming if a teacher has sex with a student. 

So, me and my friends then. 

I suppose that when the hormones came a-calling, we all noticed out changes in our bodies, not just ‘boobs ‘n’ pubes, but also hips becoming broader and thighs becoming more shapely. I also noticed….oh dear, this is tricky to describe….you know when a girl sits on the ground with her knees up and legs open…there’s that gap either side of the crotch of her panties….there’s that too, because it seems to direct the eye right to a girl’s hole. 

 We noticed all these things of course, and talked about them frequently. We also noticed how we were being looked at by the staff. The more adult, and therefore sexual our bodies became, the more ….hmm….more what, envious perhaps…the staff saw us. Either that or the more they thought we might sin. 

But not all the monks and nuns we had were ancient, wizened old wrinklies. We also had civilian staff now and then. Did we flirt? Damn right we did! We soon noticed who noticed us. I think girls have a radar for who is watching us. So, for example, Brother James. Youngish, humorous, and we flirted outrageously with him, especially on that wretched school field at lunchtimes, when me and others would deliberately flash our panties. Whenever we did, brother James was always in eyeshot of us. I know, absolutely know for a fact we gave him a hard-on under his habit. Whether he did anything about it, or just said a Rosary or twenty until it went away I shall never know. 

Sister Bernadette, not yet a full nun and only with us for two semesters was another one we teased. I think we realised…well, I realised, there was something strange about her…well…not strange exactly, but as much as we flirted with her, even though she remained aloof and professional, her eyes, face and voice tone spoke of something else entirely. 

Here, then, is one of my fantasies concerning Sister (half penguin) Bernadette. 

Whoever thought giving noviciate nuns a white habit was a good idea? Even in good weather, five minutes on the school field tinted it’s hem a faint green and you could see the dew from the grass creeping upwards. But then, maybe that wasn’t the only source of moisture around the lovely young Sister. 

She’s looking….again….she must be able to see my panties, and she is certainly staring. Hey, I wonder if she likes girls….I mean likes girls. Who says monks and nuns simply switch their sexuality off and leave it in the robing room? We’re told they are celibate, but does that include masturbation? Maybe it’s supposed to, but I mean, does it,  in real life? Who’s to know if she rubs one out quietly in her cell at night? 

It’s PE time. God how I’m looking forward to that! A whole hour alone in the locker room. I should manage three, maybe four good cums. As I walk there with the rest of the group I’m already wet and planning who to look at when they get changed. 

It doesn’t disappoint. Helen, Jane, Heather, my current crushes. Fuck, how I’d love to bury my face between their legs! Still, as soon as they leave with the two wizened old crones I will…in a way. 

The class leaves and I give it five minutes, just in case someone comes back for something. They don’t. I stand up and slip my panties off. Wow, they’re a complete mess….I must need this more than I thought. 

I’ve got Heather’s undies in my hand and they’re still warm and smell of her. I take a chance and loose my ridiculous fucking kilt, just letting it fall on the floor. It’s an added risk, but then what I’m doing is risky. I inhale Heather and as usual, my nose dissects the scents into layers. Fresh girl cum, older girl cum, and right at the bottom, barely discernible, that oh, so faint, yet harsh tang of piss. 

My hand is between my legs now, and I’ve decided to press her panties inside me and reach for Jane’s. Jane smells similar to, but yet entirely different from Heather. Similar layers, similar scents, but unique. It’s her I want to smell while I cum my load onto Heather’s crotch. 

I’m standing, eyes closed, intent on holding their naked bodies in my head when two hands reach around my, up, under my shirt and cup my bra-less boobs. Sister Bernadette! Oooooh fuck! She whispers “Don’t stop.” There’s a scent of fresh soap and toothpaste….worlds apart from the coffee and cigarette breath of the PE nuns. She gently pulls me back against her and I feel her firm boobs against my back. I lose all interest in the panties. 

I turn in her arms and face her. At her stage, she is wearing just a white wimple rather than the full head and neck mask, and her habit clearly opens at the side, although her waist is bound by the white knotted cord they all wear. I rest against her and without even asking, slip my hand in the opening of her robe. I feel the flatness of her tummy, and lower……hey…..what’s this…no pubes? My fingers find her slit. Oh she’s wet! So very wet. I feel her push against my fingers and they slip inside her. I’m fingering her! 

But that’s not enough, so I drop to my knees and she holds her habit open. I see the smoothness of her and inhale her scent before leaning forward to kiss her. It feels almost like taking communion. My tongue explores her folds and creases and finds her erect clit. She inhales sharply as I flick my tongue round it at push two fingers up her. 

She doesn’t last long. I mean, she couldn’t. I feel her cum softly onto my lips and fingers. There’s a trickle into the palm of my hand which I suck avidly. 

I stand, a little unsteadily, truth be told. Sister Bernadette smiles warmly, her eyes pools of post-orgasmic bliss, “well now, it would be rude to leave you like this, wouldn’t it?” 

She undoes the knotted chord around her waist, and ties it round my wrists, looping it over the hooks in the locker room, effectively tying me up but in a standing position. She kneels at my feet. “Now, I must do penance for winning.” Although the leer on her face doesn’t speak of penance to me. She spreads my legs and I feel….dirty…..deliciously exposed, and dirty! It’s glorious.

She parts my labia, exposing my clit. I feel her penetrate me….but only as far as my hymen. She looks up at me and smiles. “What a sweet little cunt you have.” Such words…coming from a nun….they make me dizzy.

But not as dizzy as when she starts to suck me off. I find myself grinding my hips against her face, wanting to spread myself all over her. Now and then she stops, partly to delay my imminent orgasm, and partly to speak to me. “Yes, that’s right, you dirty little slut. Use me. Grind your cunt onto my face.” More licking, sucking and delicately stretching my outer hole until I’m almost screaming for her to finger fuck me. “Cum in my mouth, bitch. Come on….do it in my mouth.” I feel soooo close. I’m scared. I know what a mess I can make when I cum. At the age I am when I fantasised about Sister Bernadette I had yet to rationalise my habit of squirting, but sometimes peeing I voluntarily. I could not control which was which….and sometimes, to this day, I still can’t when I’m really aroused. 

She looks up again, her face glistens with my virgin wetness. “It’s ok, Anna. We’ve all been there. Just relax….whatever you do…just do it right in my mouth.” The mere thought that I might cum heavily enough to pee releases the last inhibition and I cum savagely into her mouth. I find myself swearing, using language no-one would dare use to a nun. “You fucking bitch…swallow me you cunt.” 

 And now, years later? Oh yes, I still masturbate thinking about this young movie sister. But then I also masturbate thinking about one particular Brother too. He wasn’t in the first flush of youth, and smelled vaguely of pipe smoke. Definitely a father-figure. And yes, priests too have had me, although if you asked them, they’d be appalled at the very idea, because I’ve had them mentally rather than physically. 

Oh yes, as a schoolgirl, I flirted, flashed my panties, flashed my vulva, and masturbated in school, in the locker room, in the restrooms and sometimes in class. I’ve cum so hard I’ve soaked my panties to the extent the girl sitting beside me knew what I’d just done. One or two were disgusted and never sat next to me again, most were delighted for me, writing notes such as “lucky bitch”, and ‘feel better now?” on their notebooks. One girl even wrote “Nice one! When’s it my turn?” 

 One one occasion, and one only, I masturbated another girl sitting next to me. 

But that, as they say, is another story for another day.