Another Year at St Cat’s Ch. 06

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Can the girls control themselves when a male model visits?
7.1k words
4.53
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Part 6 of the 7 part series

Updated 06/07/2023
Created 12/04/2014
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Wednesday, 30 April

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The old mini rattled along the country lanes, past verdant hedgerows bursting with life in the early summer sunshine. Henry accelerated through the narrow lanes, his arms aching as he twisted the steering wheel left and right. Perhaps he'd overdone it at the gym this morning but he found he needed to work out every day to maintain his physique. He was simultaneously trying to steer, read the map he'd been given and track his location on his mobile.

The map wasn't great, just a hand-drawn scrap of paper given to him by one of the more attractive girls at the agency. What was her name? Angela?

He'd already been through Burfield, passed The Queens Head, and turned off by the Stag and Hounds. Was it a coincidence that most of the landmarks on the map were pubs? Perhaps he ought to invite Angela out for a drink sometime. He glanced at it again as the car swept around another corner into a lane only just wide enough for two cars: was that black splodge the reservoir or yet another pub? He should be nearly there now.

So far, his career as a model wasn't turning out to be as glamorous as he'd hoped. He'd pictured himself hanging out at trendy wine-bars and modelling the latest fashions for GQ or Vogue but so far he'd only done a few meagrely paid jobs at conventions and catalogues that he'd fitted in around working at a local bar. Of all the jobs he'd done, this was easily the strangest. Still, a hundred quid cash-in-hand to stand around in a classroom for a couple of afternoons wasn't to be sniffed at for someone with his limited experience.

"Ah, here we go," he muttered as he passed the sign saying "St Catherine's, 100 yards on the left".

Macy stared out of the window at the new art teacher, Miss Brittan, who was pacing up and down the car park anxiously. She watched as the woman looked at her watch again, a number of brightly coloured bangles sliding up over her wrist. Macy had heard that the teacher had had difficulty finding an agency to supply them with a male model after what had happened last time. She really hoped he hadn't cancelled at the last minute.

Miss Brittan was a tall woman with long, auburn tresses spilling over her shoulders. Despite her English-sounding name, she was actually half-French, her faint Gallic accent somehow making her both more exotic and authoritative. Today, she was resplendent in a vibrant, red-and-purple tie-dyed sun-dress that clung to the womanly curves of her shapely figure. Her sunny disposition, passion for art and bright clothing made her popular among the students, although Macy had heard that some of the older teachers found her a little too radical for their tastes.

The gossip amongst the students was that she wasn't only passionate about art. Macy was reliably informed that Miss Brittan was having a torrid relationship with Mr Lean, the maths teacher, although there were so many rumours about affairs sometimes it was hard to tell what was real and what was fantasy at St Catherine's.

"Looks like he's here," Macy said to her friend, Fay, as a red Mini roared into the car park, and a tall young man with an unruly mop of blonde hair got out.

There was a tangible sense of barely suppressed excitement when Miss Brittan entered the classroom with the model, who she introduced as Henry. Usually at this time, the girls would still be slowly drifting in but today they were all here early, seated at their easels and chattering excitedly.

"Well, this is weird," Henry thought to himself, as Miss Brittan fussed around him, posing him carefully as he reclined on the chaise longue. He wasn't naked of course, they'd both agreed that it was only proper that he should keep his underwear on, but under the intense gaze of all these teenage girls he certainly felt naked. Miss Brittan artfully draped over a white sheet over his torso, trying to create a more classic look by hiding his boxer shorts.

In front of him, about a dozen schoolgirls sat at easels, pretending that having a half-naked man in front of them was an everyday occurrence. Some of them exchanging mischievous glances, half-smiles playing around their lips, some chewing the ends of their pencils thoughtfully as they began to sketch.

Macy started to sketch the smooth curves of Henry's athletic body with broad, confident strokes of her pencil. He was very good-looking. Lean and toned, his muscles well-defined under his smooth, tanned skin, his fair hair unkempt as if he'd just rolled out of bed; but what she noticed most were his pale blue eyes, restlessly darting around the room. She felt her heart skip a beat as they met hers briefly.

Behind her, Miss Brittan prowled, her restless eyes roaming over the girls, careful to stamp out any sign of giggling or flirting with young Henry. She had only been at the school for twelve months and the other teachers had warned her that the girls would need keeping an eye on. Mr Wicklow had raised an eyebrow when she told him about her plans to employ a life model. Apparently, the last time they'd tried it, the girls had "gone a bit mad" as he put it, which explained why the agencies were so reluctant to deal with them. So she was determined that this time, she'd keep control. She'd been very clear with the girls: any sign of fooling around and she'd step in and cancel the whole thing.

Macy waited until Miss Brittan was at the far end of the room, before leaning over towards Fay.

"Imagine waking up next to him!" she whispered.

"I know, imagine if he was naked under that sheet!"

"Oh Fay, you are rude. What a thought!"

"Imagine him waking up next to you all naked and horny and ready for action, if you know what I mean," Fay gushed, her large dark brown eyes sparkling with mischief.

"You're so dirty Fay! He's buff, isn't he? Look at that six pack."

"I know, check out those chest muscles! It's like he's been photo-shopped! He's gorgeous, I wouldn't mind him dipping his brush in my paint," Fay whispered.

Macy put her hand up to her mouth, trying to stifle her giggling.

"I tell you what, he keeps staring at your legs," Fay continued.

"Nonsense," Macy insisted, but she couldn't help feeling a little flutter of excitement as she glanced up at the model.

"Honestly, he keeps looking when you turn away."

Macy pretended to drop her pencil then leaned over to retrieve it. As she straightened up, she slowly ran her hands over her long legs, letting them trail over the top of her white knee socks, and over the smooth tanned skin above. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him staring. Her heart thumped as she slowly uncrossed then crossed her legs, her green uniform skirt riding up and exposing acres of bare thigh.

"See, he can't take his eyes off you," Fay giggled.

The girls heard footsteps behind them and quickly returned to their sketching.

"Come along girls, less giggling, more drawing," Miss Brittan scolded them.

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Later that evening, Macy lay half-awake, still feeling a little agitated about what had happened earlier in the art class. What if Henry really had been naked under that robe as her friend had fantasized? She couldn't help wondering how he would look. She fell into a restless sleep, picturing him pulling that sheet aside to reveal the lean, hard flesh beneath.

A little while later, something woke her up. An odd noise. It felt like she'd only been asleep for a few minutes. She looked at the little clock on her bedside table trying to work out why there was only one hand, eventually realising that it was five minutes past one, the luminous green hands overlapping. At first, she thought the noise must be Fay snoring but when she looked across, her roommate was sleeping peacefully, inert apart from the slight rise and fall of her chest.

She closed her eyes and listened carefully. There it was again, a soft, low moaning noise. It was a warm night so they'd left the windows open, and in the darkness she could just make out a soft breeze rustling the curtains. The sound seemed quite muffled though, as if it was coming through the wall. A faint, female voice moaning. Macy yawned and rubbed her eyes, gradually becoming more awake as the sound grew louder. Sitting up in bed, she twisted around and pressed her ear against the wall.

Miss Brittan had recently moved into the empty dormitory next door while her own study was being redecorated. It must be her voice, but she didn't sound like she did in class. Listening carefully, she could just make out another voice too. A man's voice, hoarse and urgent. Perhaps Mr Lean was paying her a late night visit!

The thought made her heart beat a little faster, and she pressed her ear against the wall even harder. Frustratingly though, at that moment the sound seemed to fade away into the darkness.

As she lay in the still darkness listening, her thoughts returned to the young man in art class. Spending a couple of hours staring at his body hardly seemed like school work at all.

She wondered how it felt to be a life model. Staying perfectly still whilst some schoolgirls examined every curve and subtle plane of your semi-naked body. Perhaps it turned him on, he did choose to do it for a living after all. Perhaps he was all excited and hard under that thin sheet.

It was a warm, humid night and the thoughts of the thin sheet clinging to every curve and bulge of Henry's firm, naked body made it feel even warmer. She slid back down the bed and stretched out on top of her summer duvet, one arm behind her head, the other roaming over her thighs, her stomach, her breasts. She was wearing a cute little vest top and pants set, white with little blue flowers. The thin cotton clung to the moist skin of her slim body. The sounds from next door were getting louder again, the unmistakable sound of desperate female groans, breaking the silence of the still night.

Macy gently caressed the soft, pliant flesh of her boobs as she imagined what was going on just a few inches away, on the other side of the thin wall. The sounds weren't too loud so perhaps they were just spooning; Mr Lean's firm body curled around Miss Brittan's, their naked skin pressed together. Perhaps her urgent moaning was caused by the feel of his hot, moist lips grazing her neck, as his hands toyed with her breasts and slipped between her willing thighs. Macy felt herself becoming hotter, imagining how that would feel, trailing a finger over the taut material of her top. The thought of Henry's strong hands fondling her boobs made her nipples stand to attention.

As she caressed herself, the volume increased again. Miss Brittan certainly was very vocal. Her strained voice ranged from soft, yearning "Uunh"s to the surprised little "oh!" to the contented "ah", causing Macy's imagination to paint some very erotic pictures. Her loins were yearning for a little attention now, and as she played with her hard, little nipples she slid her other hand between her warm, sticky thighs. A soft sigh escaped her lips, joining those drifting through the wall.

Macy sat up as she crossed her arms then wriggled the clingy vest top up over her head; she had petite, sleek boobs sitting high on her ribcage. They were tipped with tiny nipples, all her nerve endings squeezed into two tight bundles. She quickly checked that Fay was still asleep then lay back, closing her eyes, and squeezed her naked flesh. She bit her lip, suppressing a little cry of pleasure as she rolled one of her ultra-sensitive buds between thumb and forefinger causing little sparks of hot pleasure.

The sounds were becoming more urgent now, a rhythmic panting. Perhaps they were fucking now, Miss Brittan lying back on the bed, her long legs spread wide, her feet waving in the sultry air, her arms wrapped around Mr Lean's broad shoulders as their bodies twisted and slapped together. His firm buttocks bobbing up and down, as he thrust his cock between her willing, wide-open legs.

Her pussy was aching to be touched, and she couldn't resist any longer. She ran her hand down over her stomach and between her hot thighs as she pictured the two teachers naked and entwined, their feverish bodies grinding together. She felt her panties quickly becoming damp as she stroked the swollen folds beneath.

Next door, the sounds grew louder and more urgent, beneath the high-pitched female groaning, Macy could hear the sounds of bedsprings creaking now. The gossip amongst her friends recently was that Mr Lean liked dominant women so perhaps Miss Brittan was on top. She pictured the maths teacher lying back on the bed whilst an eager Miss Brittan slowly lowered herself onto his throbbing upright cock, a long, low animal groan escaping her lips as her pussy stretched to accommodate his generous girth. Macy slid her fingers beneath her panties, exploring the moist succulent folds of her pussy as she imagined Miss Brittan joyfully bouncing up and down, her hands braced against the solid slabs of muscle of his chest, her boobs jiggling, her head thrown back, eyes closed. The juices flowed freely and Macy's fingers slid up and down her silky folds as the deliciously sordid images crowded her mind.

She glanced across at her roommate as she lifted her hips and quickly wriggled her panties down over her trembling thighs, kicking them off her ankles. Macy was ready to roll over pulling the duvet over her if she stirred, but Fay was still soundly asleep, her mouth half-open and snoring lightly. It felt so naughty writhing about naked on top of her bed like this with Fay just a few metres away. So wrong, and yet so good. The thought of being caught making it all the more exciting. She'd like to use her vibrator but that really was too risky. She ran a moist fingertip along her pussy, quickly finding the little spot at the top of her moist slit that made her catch her breath.

Next door, the evening's performance was quickly moving towards its finale, Miss Brittan's passionate panting mixed with the dull, rhythmic thud of the headboard bumping against the wall, slow at first, but steadily speeding up. Thump, thump, thump.

Something about the woman's breathless gasps and the complaining bedsprings made her picture them fucking doggy style, Miss Brittan on all fours, her knees wide apart, her boobs swaying between her arms, her copper curls tumbling over her closed eyes. Fucking like animals, Mr Lean energetically slamming into her from behind, his hands tightly gripping her narrow waist, his naked body glinting with sweat in the dark sultry night. She could hear the surprised yelps of pleasure escaping Miss Brittan's half-open lips as he eased himself deeper into her wetness.

The warm, sticky night was getting stickier by the second. Gosh, she was so wet now! She could see her juicy fingers glistening in the moonlight that leaked between the curtains. She spread her pink folds with one hand, using the other to tease herself, her fingertips gliding over her moist slit, gently flicking over her hungry slit and toying with the entrance to her tight, little vagina. She had to bite her lip again to stop herself from making a noise as she slid a finger inside herself. She slowly frigged herself as she listened to her teacher's voice rising in pitch and pictured Mr Lean fucking her harder now, their hot flesh slapping together as he thrust his rock hard cock deep into her.

Whenever the art teacher was particularly annoyed or excited she'd slip into her native french, and Macy could hear the tumble of urgent gallic words slipping from her lips, as she neared her climax.

"Oh, oh, mon dieu, ne pas arrêter!" the strained voice of the art teacher was becoming louder and louder, the headboard thumping against the wall hard now. Gosh, he must really be giving it to her now, Macy thought as stroked her aching clitoris with her thumb. He must really be fucking her hard, ramming his big dick into her dripping pussy. Just saying those forbidden words in her mind made her feel even hotter.

It was obvious that things were building to a climax next door. The woman's voice had changed: from soft, yearning sighs of sensual pleasure to staccato demands for satisfaction, encouraging him, insisting he satisfied her. Macy decided to try and come at the same time. Her hot body writhed on the bed, as she squeezed one of her painfully hard nipples, twisting it between thumb and forefinger, whilst thrusting two slender fingers in and out of her pussy, her wanton legs spread wide apart. She was so close now to the elusive orgasm now, her muscles burning, her feet rucking the duvet as her back arched up off the damp sheets, her whole body on a knife-edge as her hot breath rasped in her throat.

"Oui, oui! Ahhh!" The sound of Miss Brittan coming, triggered Macy's release, her young body jerking and twitching like she was having a fit, her tight pussy squeezing her fingers as a sublime waves of pure ecstasy swept over her.

Her feverish body twisted and convulsed on the damp duvet, her mouth wide open as the breath rushed out of her in a silent scream of sublime joy.

The waves slowly subsided leaving her limp, breathless but deeply satisfied, in a way that only a good orgasm can. She wondered how much noise she'd made, but a glance over at Fay relieved her worries; the girl was still asleep and snoring peacefully. As she fumbled for her panties in the darkness, she could hear the soft murmur of the teacher's post-coital voices next door gently fading into the night's darkness.

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Thursday, 1 May

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It was a beautiful day, the warm sun filtering through the trees by the river and painting the grass in shades of dappled green. The girls spread blankets on the grass and unpacked the food for their birthday picnic. They were only about a short walk down the river but it was so peaceful they could have been in the middle of the countryside, a million miles from the school.

"I've been saving this for a special occasion, and what better occasion than my best friend's birthday," Macy said as she withdrew the bottle of vodka that had been hidden at the back of her wardrobe since Christmas. She tied a piece of string to it, and laid it carefully in the cool water caught in a small gully in the riverbank.

"Aw thanks, Macy," Fay giggled. "It's just what I wanted!"

There were three of them: Macy, Fay and their friend Natalie who shared the dorm next door. Fay was going back to her parents at the weekend for a proper party but this was a little treat for the day itself.

"So what else do you hope to get?" Natalie asked, lighting a cigarette and shielding her dark eyes from the sun. Smoking and drinking were strictly forbidden in the school grounds, but down here behind the boat shed they felt safe enough to risk it. Some ducks bobbed by on the languid water, eyeing their hamper hopefully.

"Well I wouldn't mind a couple of hours alone with that male model! I'm sure my boyfriend would understand."

"I know he's so hunky, I even saw that dyke Vicky making eyes at him! I wonder what it's like being a model," Macy added.

"I bet he loves it, all the girls eyeing up his half-naked body," Fay said.

"Yeah, I bet you're right, I bet it turns him on."

"Yeah, I bet he's hung like a horse under that sheet, imagine that!"

The girls giggled loudly.

"Ooh, you are rude Fay, you've got a one-track mind," Natalie said in her subtle welsh accent.

"I bet you're thinking just the same, I bet you were picturing him naked too, little Miss Innocent!"

"Yes, well, I'm only flesh and blood," Natalie confessed. "He's lush, isn't he?"

"Yeah, I could see you trying to catch his eye!" Macy said, prodding her arm, teasing her.

"I was not!" Natalie protested. "Anyway, I'm sure I saw you flirting with him."

"Was not! Although I must confess I wouldn't mind seeing a little more of hunky Henry," Macy said, blushing prettily as she recalled her fantasies of last night.