A Crowd outside School

Another day over. Time to go home. Your route out is disturbed by a gathering at the gates.

Boys. All male. They’re wearing a school uniform you recognise. Your old school. They’re filled with the swagger that only a crowd of boys can show, but it’s tempered by the uncertainty of teenage worries, both the confidence and insecurity of youth. They whisper and josh their conquests but when passing girls look at them, they flinch.

They’re egging each other on. Goading themselves into confidence. You can see their threat rising. You should do something about it, but the memories of your own youth hold you back. This is a clique you were never part of, sporty, privileged, that appeared to own the school. {if Cuck > 0}Like Chad Mano.{endif} The memories of bullying, of name calling make you hesitate. You’re ten years older than them, but most of them are taller, most of them are stronger, most of them are handsomer. Your memories of boys like them hang over them, a dark forbidding cloud pushing you away.

No. They’re starting to gain confidence. If you don’t approach them now, something bad will happen.

Blair beats you to it.

Where she came from, you can’t tell. She’s just there, striding towards them, fully female, and fully intimidating. 18-year-old boys don’t have a chance against a titan like her. Those that are taller than her wither at her approach.

“What are you doing here?” she demands. “Move on, this is not a public place.”

Actually, they’re on the street, so it is a public place, but her confidence overrides their legality. Some have already backed away. Others are propelled by her dismissal.

One, in the centre until now, clearly the leader of this group, edges forward. He tries to reason with her.

“We’re waiting for Anny,” he begins. “Umm… yes, Anny Runnel.”

You know Anny Runnel. How can you not? Not only are you teaching her in the ‘B’ Stream, she’s also head girl and captain of the 1st XI in hockey. She’s a tall, slim, fit young woman, with short red hair and a confidence built from continued success. She’s the kind of girl all parents want their daughters to turn into.

“Well, Anny Runnel has hockey practice, so she won’t be coming out for hours, so run along,” Blair tells them. “Before I phone the police.”

You don’t think phoning the police will do much. It’s not like this crowd are doing anything illegal. But Blair’s words shred the last of the boys’ confidence. They quickly dissipate, back down the street, dispersing as they go. Blair watches them. You go and join her.

“They weren’t doing anything wrong.”

Blair turns to you, surprised, as if she hadn’t seen you before now.

“No, they weren’t,” Blair agrees. “I expected more fight. The local boys, they just lack the gumption for genuine seduction.” She glances over at you. “You’re a local, aren’t you?”

You nod your agreement.

“Yes, I can see it. Did you ever hang out at these gates?”

“No, that wasn’t my thing.”

{if Blair > 4}

“Probably just as well. If the girls had discovered your wonder cock, they’d have been besieging you.” She winks. It’s a seductive wink, that makes your groin stir. “Just talking about it makes me horny. No, however much I’d like to guide you into the dressing rooms and have a ride on that wonder cock of yours, can’t do it. I have a training session to run.”

{else}

“Doesn’t surprise me. Doesn’t seem to be the thing for most of the boys. I went to an all-girls school in my hometown, and those gates were besieged by the local boys. Every day. They came just to have a look. Fuck, young women in school uniforms, I thought that was a common fetish. Do you have that fetish. You’d better not.”

“I’m a professional,” you insist. Don’t answer that directly. You don’t want to lie. You don’t want to give her ammunition. Blair intimidates you as much as she intimidated the group of boys.

“Right answer. I must go, training session to run.”

{endif}

Blair tuns and walks away, towards the training grounds.