Monday Lessons

Lessons take over. The day-to-day teaching.

After a Lower Sixth Lesson, you have the Upper Sixth ‘A’ Stream.

{if Harem = 2}

That lesson is torture. Every time you look at Ellie, your memory reminds you how she looked in her babydoll, and how she looked out of it with your dick sliding in and out of her pussy. Her school uniform doesn’t help. It covers everything but leaves tantalising suggestions of what is beneath. It’s easy to spot the love in her brown eyes, so easy you worry that the other girls must surely notice it. Only the fact they pay little attention to her probably saves you from them spotting it.

Maybe they’ll spot it, because Ellie is acting out of character. About halfway through the lesson she raises her hand to answer a question. Several of the girls had already tried to answer it unsuccessfully. Then Ellie half raises her hand, the first time she’s ever interacted in class. You go to her, and she stammers her answer, the near perfect answer, catching everything the other girls were missing.

“Yes, that’s correct, Ellie. That’s something all you girls should think about.”

Ellie blushes. The other girls exchange confused looks. All your instincts are to go over and kiss her and tell her she’s been a good girl and deserves a good fuck. Your professionalism, what little you have left, stops you.

But the incident just adds to your underlying horniness.

Lunchtime allows you to calm down, except you’re sitting in the lunch hall with Abigail, Spencer, Anissa and well over 100 teen girls all in their school uniforms. So not much calming down.

And then in the afternoon the Upper Sixth ‘C’ Stream, with Kelly sitting in her designated seat, looking at you wistfully with her green eyes. And memories of her in her babydoll and out of it, your dick plunging in and out of her, intrude once again. And Kelly’s flirting is less guarded than Ellie’s, more obvious. Her only saving grace is that she’s not the only girl flirting with you during the class.

Somehow you manage to get through the class without ordering Kelly into your office for another good fucking.

{else}

Four weeks in and the atmosphere in the class has changed. At the start it was all guarded, you and they feeling each other out. Now the girls appear to have made up their mind. Several of the girls appear to be wearing tighter blouses, or padded bras. All their skirts appear to be shorter, revealing pale legs with white socks. You feel their eyes following you, devouring you. The girls are eager to answer your questions, except for Ellie whose eyes are just as eager, but whose body appears even more wrapped up than it was before.

Lunchtime allows you to calm down, except you’re sitting in the lunch hall with Abigail, Spencer, Anissa and well over 100 teen girls all in their school uniforms. So not much calming down.

And then in the afternoon the Upper Sixth ‘C’ Stream.

{if Kelly > 4}

Kelly sits in her designated seat, looking at you wistfully with her green eyes. And memories of Saturday nearly overwhelm you, your dick plunging in and out of her, her ass bouncing with each thrust. There’s pure desire in her eyes. Very obvious. Her only saving grace is that she’s not the only girl flirting with you during the class. The ‘C’ Stream appears filled with girls whose blouses lose important buttons and whose skirts flutter up at the faintest breeze to reveal tantalising glimpses of white knickers.

Somehow you manage to get through the class without ordering Kelly into your office for another good fucking.

{else}

Surprisingly Kelly doesn’t cause a scene, but she’s one of the few who doesn’t. The ‘C’ Stream appears filled with girls whose blouses lose important buttons and whose skirts flutter up at the faintest breeze to reveal tantalising glimpses of white knickers.

Your trouser snake stirs at every possibility. Keep thinking of teaching. Keep thinking of teaching.

{endif}

{endif}

With the final bell, you need to sit and recover. Then pack up.

As usual the girls have left a mess, paper balled up and scattered on the floor, broken pens and pencils left behind, seats and desks skewed. There are cleaners but you always prefer to tidy away the most obvious mess.

It’s while you’re doing this that you notice the small box at the back of the classroom, underneath the radiator. You pull it out. It’s an unopened box of contraceptives, a cheap brand, with the seal still intact. What’s that doing there? It must have fallen out of someone’s bag.