A new teacher

Rachel Jones couldn’t believe her luck as she guided her banged-up old Rover Metro up the shaded avenue towards the main building of the school.

Barely two weeks ago, she had ended her university-days received her post-grad certificate of education. Since that had been in early May, mid-semester for schools, Rachel had considered the possibility of managing to secure any sort of permanent tenure during the next few months to be unlikely, and had signed up with a temp-agency as a means through which to keep herself above water financially during the coming month.

It was to Rachel’s considerable surprise that her signing up to a supply teacher proved too hasty, as just the following Monday she had received a call telling her that she had a shot at getting a permanent teaching position at a high-end school for young adults.

For Rachel, being offered the chance of gaining employment at a secondary school was precisely what she had been hoping for; the students would be more mature as they were all at the end of their teens or the first year of their twenties.

Of course, the cluster-fuck nature of the educational world might have meant that she would have to settle for a school catering to younger students, which would have proven taxing for her not only because of the students being less developed mentally, but primarily because she had a hard time imagining that young boys still in the hold of that universal nightmare of embarrassment and shock called puberty would have a hard time respecting her as a teacher and be more prone to view her as a sex-object.

And it wasn’t like the pimple-plagued little bastards wouldn’t have a lot of her to ogle; Rachel was unusually tall, almost as tall as her 6’4 dad and almost a foot taller than her mom, and had been active in a wide variety of sports all throughout her youth. At fifteen, it had been impossible for her to keep playing football on account of her breasts growing out her C-cup bras, but she had kept up her long-distance running and more general fitness training all the way up till the present, finding running to be an excellent way of clearing her mind while conducting her university studies.
Her body wasn’t all muscles though, her hips were wide and her legs were long, while her breasts had stopped growing when she was seventeen, after having graduated to DD-size, and her hair was a golden variety of blonde.

The curvaceous shape of her body combined with the strikingly beautiful features of her face didn’t only mean that she would have a hard time keeping pubescent boys from drooling during classes, it also meant that a lot of members of academia, older men in particular, had a hard time taking her seriously.

Then there was the issue with her female colleagues, where particularly women in their forties or fifties with a lot of fat and wrinkles would treat with more or less open hostility, forcing her to reply to the question whether she had implants or not on an almost daily basis.

Still, Rachel had shown them all by getting this opportunity, and she was determined to cling to it by manifesting a stern demeanour as soon as she was handed a class.
First however Rachel was to meet up with one of the school’s functionaries, a Miss Taylor, who would orientate her on what she had referred to as the schools “somewhat unique teaching methods and goals.”

Having borrowed a smart business-suit consisting of a jacket and skirt in dull grey from one of her older sisters, Rachel was hoping that no one would notice that the outfit was slightly too small for her as she stepped out of her car and made her way across the parking-lot to the main entrance, the heels of her less-than conservative shoes clacking against the tarmac.

After passing through the security door after a momentarily delay, Rachel entered the reception and found it more or less abandoned, apart from a figure sitting behind a wide desk.

The figure turned out to be a young man, barely if at all out of his teens, clad in a dark jacket with a school crest on its chest-pocket and a white shirt which was peeled open to reveal a muscular chest and equally fit midriff with a white and red striped tie splayed out over his otherwise exposed chest.
The young man looked at Rachel, and then grinned wildly, almost like a loon.

Somewhat taken aback by this, Rachel nonetheless approached the boy, stopping a few feet from the large desk.
“Excuse me,” she said softly, “but I’m looking for Miss Taylor.”
The man responded by letting out a lingering groan and rolling his eyes, causing Rachel to ask “Are you alright?” without receiving any sort of coherent reply.

The man now started to shiver and jerked his back against the chair while Rachel could hear him stamping his feet.
Then he settled down to look at Rachel in a dazed fashion, a weak smile forming on his face.
“Sorry ma’am,” the young finally said, sounding somewhat sheepish, “I’ll let you speak to the receptionist now.”

With that, the young man shot the chair back and rose to his feet, letting Rachel see that his pants were undone and his semi-hard cock was dangling in front of his fly.
Rachel was shocked, not only because the boy was sporting a penis which was larger than possibly anything that she had previously seen, but also at the fact that he had been masturbating like this!

“Young man,” Rachel did her best to sound stern, “have you been masturbating?”
“No ma’am,” the youth replied with a grin, only seconds after which a new figure appeared from under the desk.

The woman, for it was undoubtedly a woman, was clad in the most outrageous manner that Rachel had ever seen outside of those clubs which her friends had taken her to during their Berlin trip. A black leather choker around her throat and a latex bustier which was tugged down far enough that one could see her small, hard nipples and the surrounding areolas, a tight band of black latex around her waist with a single tendril the same material dangling down in front of her sex, and long PVC boots going all the way up to the point where her legs and torso met.

“Thank you, Tim,” the woman told the young man, before turning to look at Rachel, whom she shot a dazzling smile.
“Hello!” the woman greeted Rachel, who only now noticed that a gob of sticky liquid adorned the woman’s face, going from the tip of her nose down to the tip of her chin.
“And you are?” The woman went on, after Rachel had failed to reply to her greeting.
“Eh… Rachel Jones, the new teacher?” Rachel finally managed to speak.

“Right!” The woman replied, before turning once more to the young man, whose cock had grown back to full hardness while he did no motion to tuck it back into his pants.
“Run along now Tim,” the woman went on, “you don’t want to be late for class.”
After giving Rachel one long look, Tim finally set off down a nearby corridor.
“If you just sign here,” the woman, apparently the receptionist, told Rachel as she handed her a visitor’s book, “and I’ll contact Miss Taylor.”

After signing her name, Rachel was offered to take a seat in a nearby seat, which she did, and asked if she wanted anything, which she declined, nearly swallowing her tongue when the receptionist queried if she wanted her pussy licked or not.

Three or so minutes later, Miss Taylor arrived.