A shower and some thoughts

Shaking your head at the thought that Pink Rose girls appear to have a long tradition of slutty behaviour, you step into your bedroom, stripping your clothes off as you head for the shower. You give a sardonic smile at the thought of generation after generation of students lifting their skirts to get a hard pounding from whatever man they could find. An image of Civil War era teens in hoop skirts and crinolines getting serviced by gardeners makes you chuckle, even as you wonder if your amusing fantasy is close to the truth.

The wealthy and elite send their precious daughters here to provide a semblance of education while sheltering them from the so called real world, but like horny girls throughout history, they find a way to subvert the process. What is evidently true now, was probably true when the school was founded in the nineteenth century. You wonder how many rich daughters came home with a baby in the oven, put there by a gardener or a boy from Hamilton or one of the other snotty schools that cater to boys. Probably more than a few, you smile.

And how many repressed old lesbians taught here. From what the two mothers said Miss Marshall was pretty brazen about her proclivities, and you doubt that she was the first. Or the last, you consider? Are some of the current teachers sampling the students in the same way you are? Is that the real source of opposition to men on campus? Not that you might tempt the hormonal wenches, but that you might compete for their favours with lesbian predators? You frown, considering the idea as you lather, thinking about the women teachers you've met and weighing them as possibilities.

Perhaps the teachers dismissed or pressured to resign last year were preying on students. They were clearly doing something that got them fired, and something that no one seems to want to talk about it. Every time the subject of last year comes up everyone seems eager to change the subject. You shake your head as you step out of the shower and towel yourself dry.

You feel the need to get away from the school for a while. You've mentally decided that you're going to meet Max after the burger joint closes and give her a ride home. Maybe talk her into a beer beforehand. And maybe talk her into something more than a beer once you've given her a ride. Her brassy attitude is refreshing, somehow more honest than most of the girls of Pink Rose, and you look forward to seeing her again, even if it only results in trading some banter.

You've got time to kill before meeting her, and you decide to burn some tension out with a run on the bike. You pull on some riding clothes and leave your office, heading for the garage.