Back away

In spite of what Senator Williams had told you when you took the job, you are still not comfortable with fucking your way through these students like a stud bull on a dairy farm. And, tempting as this pretty blonde student is, you will be late for your appointment if you spent any more time watching. It would have been quite a sight to see her reach the climax she was rapidly approaching, but you've seen hundreds of orgasms and as entertaining as this young blonde's was likely to be, you are not going to be distracted.

A couple minutes later, you knock on the heavy wooden doors clearly marked "Headmistress."

A woman in her forties with her hair pulled back in a tight bun opens the door wide. She looks at you with annoyance taking in your faded jeans and blue open-necked shirt.

"The custodial offices are in the rear building, they are plainly -" You interrupted her before she got too far along in her spiel.

"Ms. Naylor, My name is Kyle Hawkfeather, we have an appointment." The look of disdainful annoyance changes to guarded neutrality, followed by a quick glance at the wall clock.

"I see you're a punctual man, Mr. Hawkfeather." You almost get the feeling that wishes you were late or early so she could put you in your place. Ms. Naylor is wearing a white blouse with a delicate lace collar peaking from under a sever looking worsted wool blazer buttoned tightly over her bosom with a matching grey skirt that ends at her knees. She escorts you through an outer office and into a richly appointed office.

The chamber is more than large enough to hold both an imposing Edwardian desk and a small conversation area under the tall bay windows overlooking the front lawns. A velvet-lined settee and matching chair clearly designed for someone with a much smaller build than your six foot frame are ignored as she heads behind the large desk leaving you a straight-backed wooden chair to sit in.

It must be your overactive imagination playing tricks on your mind, but even in her conservative wardrobe, the blush in her cheeks and slightly flaring nostrils reminds you of the blonde you just witnessed sprawled out on the teacher's desk. In spite of your best attempt to make a good impression you cannot help but smile as you mentally compare this conservative looking administrator with the uninhibited student exploring her sexuality.

You reevaluate Ms. Naylor's age downward by about ten years, she's deliberately dressing conservatively to add an air of authority that her relatively young age fails to provide. It is a logical tactic, but her smooth skin and clear eyes are impossible to disguise. As you wait for her to speak, you can't help but wonder what she'd look like with her hair falling freely and wearing something a lot more revealing.

The Senator had warned you that the Headmistress' inexperience was adding to the chaos at the school, noting that Ms. Naylor had a very sheltered educational background that likely explained her naïve efforts to manage the school. She was an alumna of the Academy with undisputed academic ability and after earning her teaching degree at a private woman's college outside of Boston she returned to the Pink Rose to teach. "She's smart enough, Kyle-" the Colonel had warned you, "but she thinks her girls are just as sweet and innocent as she was twenty years ago, and she doesn't care much for men."