The Girls of St Catherine's Ch. 04

"Oh, oh, oh," she wailed, her head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut as she concentrated on finding the release her young body ached for.

She came loudly and fiercely, her pussy contracting around his hot, juicy cock squeezing him rhythmically and triggering his own private ecstasy, his hot spunk spurting deep into her body, still trembling as she surfed the waves of her own climax.

---

Sadie climbed into the passenger seat of the big Range Rover, the black leather of the seat feeling hot against the bare skin of her legs. She pulled the tartan skirt down over her knees then leant forward and cranked up the air conditioning while she waited for her father to load her bags into the boot. She couldn't wait to get out of her uniform and into something more suited to the summer hear like a pair of cut-offs and a halter top.

She looked at her slim gold watch and smiled when she thought about what she'd been doing an hour ago. Three terrific orgasms in just over an hour! That was more in a single afternoon than she'd had with Marcus in the whole eighteen months they'd been dating! As much as she loved his boyish good looks and sense of humour perhaps it was time for her to move on.

"Ready to go?" her father said as he climbed in.

She nodded and soon they were rolling down the long drive towards the school gates. She twisted around in her seat and leaned out of the window, watching as the school buildings receded into the distance, shimmering in the warm air like a mirage. When she thought about the last few months it all seemed like a wild dream. Or a fantasy. She hadn't even left the grounds and already she was missing the place.

Turning back towards the front, she saw Michael wheeling his bike along the side of the driveway. He smiled and waved as they passed, and Sadie couldn't help but wave back.

"Who was that?" her father asked.

"Oh, just one of the staff," said Sadie. "No-one important."

Sunday, 8 September

The headmaster jotted down notes on a large pad as he paced up and down his study. He was a tall man with his neatly trimmed grey hair parted in a perfectly straight line, as if it had been measured against a ruler. It took no more than three of his long strides to get from his desk to the window. A strong, cool easterly breeze tugged at the crinkly leaves of the large oak tree outside his window, tugging a few of them free so that they fluttered to the ground like confetti. The lawns were empty now but in a few days, it would be alive with the excited chatter of new students.

This was his favourite way to write notes before he had to make some kind of speech. Tomorrow was an important day, the first day of the new term and he felt it was up to him to set the tone for the school year ahead. His responsibility to explain the values and traditions of the school to the new girls and let them know the importance of hard work and discipline.

He'd had the exam results mailed to him from the exam board last week and had spent the morning phoning around the parents of the some of the girls. For the less successful, that meant offering his commiserations and perhaps negotiating an extra year for their daughters. For the more successful, he was able to offer his congratulations and find out what they planned to do next.

Every year he used the first assembly to give some examples of girls who'd worked hard and got the results they'd wanted, and this year he was pleased to find that he had plenty of choice. Sadie Heath-Thomas, for example. She'd achieved 3 A stars (in English, biology and maths) and a C in history. Her father had been pleased to tell him that she'd accepted a place at Cambridge to pursue a degree in politics.

Her friend, Brianna Taylor, had also done well: two A stars, an A and a B had also got her a place at Cambridge where she'd be reading history. And little Emma Watson had done rather well too: 3 A stars and a B had been good enough to get her a place reading biology at Oxford. Yes, three examples like that should be enough to inspire anyone.

He was also going to announce Mr Wicklow as the new deputy head. He'd always been the obvious choice. Of course, the headmaster had had to go through the full process.

He'd interviewed several candidates, but really only Wicklow and Annabel Hunter were experienced and senior enough for the role.Miss Hunter just hadn't been right though. She'd spent most of the interview explaining how she'd bring St Catherine's into the twenty-first century. As if that was what the headmaster wanted! To him, the modern world outside the school gates meant binge drinking, reality television and the constant racket from mobile phones. Why would they want that?

No, no, St Catherine's was an oasis apart from the modern world where traditional values were still important and he was determined to keep it that way. And of course, she was a lesbian, he hadn't forgotten that. A lesbian who'd had an affair with one of her students. That wasn't something he could easily overlook.

Whereas Wicklow was a man of principal, you wouldn't catch him having a fling with one of the girls. He was someone who understood the fundamental importance of principles like honesty and integrity. He really was the only plausible choice when it came to it.

The position of deputy head didn't really give Wicklow any extra power or responsibility beyond standing in for him at various functions. It was really just a symbolic title but everyone understood what it really meant: that when he retired he was endorsing Wicklow as his successor.

Of course, there had been complaints about Wicklow from the other teachers and some students, but as he regularly had to explain to them (particularly Ms Hunter), there was no hard evidence to back up the rumours. No girl had ever come to him to complain. What Annabel overheard in the girls toilets was no basis for an independent disciplinary hearing. No, the fact was she was probably just jealous of her rival for promotion.

So tomorrow Wicklow would be the one joining him on the stage at the morning assembly as he attempted to inspire the new girls of the lower sixth. Yes, he'd talk about how anything worth achieving in life required some effort and how hard they worked here could determine the course of the rest of their life. And above all, the importance of persistence and never giving up. And discipline of course. He was sure that with Wicklow as his deputy he could be sure that a strong sense of discipline would be central to the school's ethos next year and for many years to come.