Summer Ch. 15 Gwen's Story 3

She shook her head again and in response he pushed her back against the desk.

"Get me out," he said and she immediately reached into the front of his pants and pulled him out, he was already hard. "Suck him," he ordered and she fell to her knees in front of him and took him into her mouth, "suck him now and let everybody see what you are doing." She closed her eyes and began to fellate him. He could already see the trail of moisture between her legs.

"They're watching you," he said and she shuddered, her eyes still closed. "Open your legs," he said and she shuffled her knees apart, his penis still in her mouth. He looked down at her sex glistening wetly between her legs. "Play with yourself," he instructed, "make yourself cum for them."

She shook her head, "no", she said quietly.

"Do it," he said again and her hand crept between her legs, she was still sucking him off as her own fingers opened her sex, moving knowingly between her own lips. "Do it," he urged again and she shuddered as her fingers slipped easily inside her own sex. "Your clitoris," he instructed, "play with your clitoris, make yourself cum."

She leaned forward slightly, taking him deeper into her mouth as her slick fingers found her clitoris and she groaned. "Go on," he said, "make yourself cum for them," and she opened her eyes almost fearfully. "Go on," he said again, "they're all watching you, you bloody little exhibitionist. Make yourself cum for them so they can all see you for what you really are."

She cried out as her fingers began to pick up speed, working herself to her own climax. He fell from her mouth as her senses concentrated on the sensations between her legs.

He bent down, watching her fingers manipulating her own clitoris. "They are watching you," he said, closer to her, "they can see what you are doing to yourself." Her fingers moved faster, her eyes were closed. She leaned forward, placing a hand on the floor before her, her legs opening wider as the first rush of her climax began.

"Oh no," he said moving around behind her and pulling her back upright, her legs wide open , her fingers moving rapidly between them, "let them see what you are doing, let them see what a little slut you are." She cried out and thrust her fingers deeper inside herself, her hips bucking as she climaxed around them.

He held her while she spasmed, her fingers working frantically inside herself. He held her while she bucked and screamed, her climax fierce and raw. Eventually she calmed and he let her slide to the floor. He stroked her hair as she curled quietly by his knee. "Oh boy," he said softly, "just think what would have happened had they really been there."

....

The affair ended as precipitately as it had begun. They finished the school term and moved into the holiday period during which they met most days and continued to make love as though each day was their last; and then suddenly it really was.

He did not appear for their next meeting nor the one after that. He was gone. While she was not there his personal belongings disappeared from the classroom including his camera equipment and their secret stash of photographs. She could not understand it, there was no word from him, nothing; he had vanished as completely as if he had never existed.

She cried for a while until she realised that the loss was physical rather than emotional and after that she recovered with amazing rapidity. Her mother realised something was wrong and tried to talk to her thinking it was some schoolboy crush gone wrong. Her mother took control deciding that what she needed was a little TLC.

There followed days in front of the TV on the couch downstairs with endless cups of hot sweet tea laced with a dash of medicinal whiskey ; all the while carefully avoiding the solicitous, veiled, questions about her periods. In truth it did seem work wonders and she was almost back on her feet by the time school started again.

During the new term science classes were taken by a roster of stand-ins until a replacement could be organised. Some grumbles were heard from the teachers whose free periods had disappeared but the story that a sudden and unavoidable family crisis had caused the unexpected and presumably permanent loss of Mr Keitel to the school circulated and rapidly gained the status of fact.

Gwen continued as normal and soon the ache between her legs began to recede or at least became manageable and she found herself once again assuming her old roles of star scholar, sexual uninitiate and marginal prude. From swan back to ugly duckling, from butterfly back to chrysalis, a flower waiting for the next burst of heat to awaken the dormant feelings within.

But she had the memories; and Jackie, sitting beside her in the classroom, on the same old rickety wooden stools on which Gwen had posed naked, would have been stunned if she could have for one moment touched those thoughts that made Gwen smile during lessons or seen the mouthed 'green' as she imagined Mr Keitel smiling down at her from behind his desk, his eyebrows raised in the unposed question as to the colour of her underwear that day.

.....

Epilogue

The headmaster had been standing against the window, framed by the strong light, standing with his back to the room, looking out.

"You sent for me Headmaster?" Mr Keitel said.

"Come in John," he said without turning, "take a seat."

John had taken a few steps into the room towards the headmaster's desk before he stopped dead. A series of photographs were spread out like a deck of playing cards across the desk, the box they had been stored in standing empty to one side. He recognised the pictures instantly; they were of Gwen, very intimate photos of Gwen. He knew them because he had taken them. John sat down heavily in the chair provided and tentatively touched a couple of the pictures; they had been turned to face him for maximum impact. Gwen's trusting and smiling face peered back at him; along with numerous close up pictures of her body, of her nipples, breasts and her sex. John looked up at the headmaster who was still standing quietly, staring out of the window as if at some distant sideshow.

"Nothing to say?" the headmaster asked eventually, his voice as heavy and slow as if dragged from some deep and .dark place.

"Self explanatory really." John said shrugging his shoulders.

"I had hoped, foolishly really, that there would be some other explanation." the Headmaster offered quietly.

"'Fraid not."

There was a long silence before the headmaster said, "Then I need your resignation John, effective today." John sat back and slightly disorientated he looked around the Headmasters study for inspiration. None came. "I will of course provide the usual references, don't worry on that score. I would not take your livelihood away from you."

"Thank you Headmaster," John said, looking back to the photo's littering the desk. He shook his head in disbelief. It was all so sudden and yet all so inevitable.

John stood up to leave, "Will you get a replacement in time for next term?" he asked.

"That, I'm afraid, is now my problem. Not yours."

John nodded and shook his head again. "I will clear my things and be gone today," he said turning for the door.

"Thank you John." John turned to leave but the Headmaster spoke again, "John?"

John turned and looked at the Headmasters back. "Yes Headmaster?"

"Take them with you please." John looked a little confused until he realised that the Headmaster meant the photos. John began to gather them up.

The headmaster quietly waited, still without turning around. John finally closed the lid on the last picture. He waited as if searching for the correct words before realising that there weren't any and he turned and walked to door. He paused with his hand on the handle and finally the Headmaster turned to look at him, his eyes were tired and immeasurably sad. "John?" He said quietly.

"Headmaster?" John responded, unable to look him in the eye.

"Are there any others?"

"Others?" John asked, confused, thinking for a moment that he meant the photos.

"Girls." The Headmaster said quietly.

John shook his head as realisation dawned, "No Headmaster, no others. One is enough."

The Headmaster paused and searched his face for a moment before turning around to face the window again. "Thank you John," he said with obvious relief.

John stepped outside and closed the door behind him.

The headmaster stood quietly for a long time, his head bowed, looking unseeing out of the window. He removed his glasses and tiredly rubbed his eyes. He shook his head sadly. Slowly he replaced his glasses with a sigh and sitting down he spread his hands tentatively on the desktop as if somehow unsure of how it would feel. With a deeper sigh he sat back in his chair and stared at the closed door through which John had just left. The school was empty and quiet. Slowly he opened the top draw of his desk. He withdrew an A4 colour print and looked at it. It was Gwen, naked, sitting on a stool in the science lab. She was leaning back on one elbow and smiling straight at the camera. Her titian hair framed her young face. Her half lidded eyes had that satiated look and he knew that she had just had sex.

He looked closely at her sex, glistening clearly between her legs below her soft triangle of red pubic hair and he could almost swear that he could see John's seamen seeping our between her wet and ready lips. He could smell the sex on her. She was truly beautiful at that moment, the perfect young woman, a heady mixture of innocence and overt sexuality. Her burnished breasts were tipped by wonderful hard distended nipples which cast strong shadows in the bright sunlight. He looked carefully and could discern the red finger marks on her beautiful breasts where John had suckled them deep into his mouth, his hands pulling the beasts forward in his excitement. He could almost see that beautiful young body aching up in ecstasy as John took her. He placed the picture on his desk and pulled another photo from the drawer and looked at it.

The second photo was a black and white print, a close up Gwen, taken from above during the act of fellatio. She was looking up at the camera as she held Mr Keitel's penis in her mouth. He could see the wet shaft as she sucked on the end like a child with a lollipop, her cheeks concave, her posture intent. Her hand gripped the base of his shaft to control his movement, her fingers splayed out into his pubic hair; the whole an extremely graphic depiction of wanton sex, of luscious, deplorable, wet and wonderful deprivation.

But it was her eyes that drew and eventually held his attention. She was looking up at him, gazing back into the camera. He could not draw his eyes away from hers, drowning in the deep black of her iris, gazing into the abyss, innocence and lust mixed in equal measure. Her sexuality blazed deep within her, burning into his soul and he knew with a certainty that rocked his very foundations, that there was no coercion in this act, that this was where she had wanted to be, this is what she wanted to do, to swallow his penis and his sperm, it was her choice. No force had been used; she was simply committing the act because she wanted to.

He looked again, her dark iris's continued to draw his gaze; and he realised that there was something else deep in the darkness, down amongst the carnality and the lust, a heady and wild joy, an unbridled freedom that came complete with the act itself, the freedom born of willing and passionate sex.

He shook his head tiredly He would retire in a year or so. His sexual experience was limited. The look in Gwen's eyes had shaken him to his core. He had never known this feeling, never guessed it even existed. He felt as though life had passed him by and suddenly he felt very old.

The Headmaster sighed and rubbed his eyes again before returning his attention back to the first picture and Gwen smiled happily back at him. She was obviously relaxed with the photographer, quite possibly in love with him; and she was certainly used to being naked in front of him and of being photographed naked by him. She looked breathtakingly beautiful. He sat studying the picture of the naked girl for a long time, taking in every inch of her young body. He knew her, he saw her every day, he had known her since her first day at school; and now he knew he had never known her at all.

Sitting back he slowly reached down below the level of his desk. He carefully unbuttoned himself before he reached in and pulled out his semi erect shaft; exactly the same as he already done twice that morning.