Last day at school

Michael was the last to leave, having mislaid some of his belongings. It had taken him ages to find them and he was in a hurry to catch up with his friends. He skidded round the corner to find his way blocked.

‘Michael, just the man.’

This was Ms Rogers, who taught him English. Had taught him, rather, because today was his last day. She had joined the school that year when Mrs Samuels left to have a baby. In her early 30s, she was tall and slim, with long blond hair.

‘Sorry, Michael, I know you must be eager to get away, but I need a hand and all the other men have gone.’

She no longer had any authority over him, but he stopped anyway. Was that the second time she had called him a man?

‘Sure,’ he shrugged, ‘what can I do for you, Ms Rogers?’

‘Well, as you are no longer my student, you had better start by calling me Adele.’

‘OK, so what can I do for you, Adele?’ He felt strange using her first name, but that was what grownups did, how men addressed women.

‘I need some help to get some boxes to my car. Do you mind?’

‘No problem, Adele,’ he enjoyed the sound of her name on his tongue. ‘Lead the way.’

He followed her back along the corridor to the staff room, watching her ass sway under the thin cotton of her skirt. He and his friends had spent many happy classes watching that ass. Her clothes were always tight and they watched in fascination as she moved around. One day they had spotted a panty line cutting through her cheeks. After that, they had tried to work out what style of panties she was wearing. From the way her ass moved, it looked like she usually wore a thong or … the idea was greeted with a breathless hush … nothing at all.

In her room, she hoisted her skirt and climbed onto a chair and stretched up for boxes on a shelf. Michael was recovering from the sight of a stretch of tanned toned thigh, when she handed one of the boxes to him.

‘Pack them on the table behind you, will you?’

He did as she asked, stacking the boxes one at a time on the table. Each time he turned back, her ass was in his face with her cheeks clenched as she stood on tiptoe to reach for another box. Finally, she turned towards him. He looked up at her face, past her pert breasts. Did she wear a bra? That topic had been the most discussed of the year. There were rules about teachers wearing provocative clothing, but with breasts as small and taut as hers, it wouldn’t be noticeable and the general opinion – or was that a wish? - was that she didn’t.

‘That’s the last now.’

She stepped down into the narrow gap between Michael and the chair, her nipples almost brushing his chest. They were erect, pressing through the thin cotton of her blouse.

‘I know this is an imposition, but would you mind carrying these to my car for me?’

No, it was no imposition at all, especially as Michael was going that way anyway. And, with the car loaded with the boxes, there was another imposition to consider.

‘I know you must be eager to catch up with your friends, but would you possibly have time to help me unload these at my apartment? It’s not far.’

Again Michael found it was not an imposition, especially as she lived near the centre of town where his friends were gathering for their celebrations.

Michael helped carry the boxes into the apartment and passed them to Adele as she stood on a chair and packed them on top of a cupboard, watching her ass flexing as she rose on her toes with each box. With the last box stored away, she stepped down in the narrow gap between the chair and Michael.

‘Thank you, Michael, what would I have done without you? You look like you could use a drink. What do you fancy, lemonade, an iced beer or some wine?’

Michael wasn’t used to alcohol, but an ice cold beer sounded so refreshing … so inviting … so adult. Adele fetched two from the fridge and led the way into her sitting room. She sank into the corner of the sofa, pulling her feet up under her, and patted the cushion beside her. As they sipped their beers and Michael stole glances at her legs and breasts.

‘Will this be your first?’

‘First?’ Michael was puzzled.

‘Yes, first time … first sex … your first fuck.’

Michael blushed and began to stammer some noncommittal reply, but she laughed.

‘Don’t worry, we all have to have a first time. You’ll do just fine.’

So this was it. No doubt about it. He didn’t have to pluck up courage to touch her or to worry in case she rejected him. This was definitely it. They were going to fuck. She hadn’t asked either, just treated it as something they both wanted.

‘The first time with a woman, that is.’ Michael didn’t want to come across as totally inexperienced.

Adele smiled. Michael wondered if she wasn’t laughing at him.

‘You’ll find that a woman is different from the girls you’re used to. We can be more demanding.’

Michael wondered what this meant, what it foretold.

‘That’s why I was pleased that it was you.’

‘Me?’ Again Michael was puzzled.

‘Yes, the one who was last to leave.’

‘You mean that you deliberately waited for the last boy – student – to leave.’ He was finding a lot of things puzzling at the moment.

Adele nodded and grinned.

‘But I hoped it would be you, because I think, secretly, we’ve both known all year that this was destined to happen. I’ve been looking forward to it, spotting the hints you gave me – subconsciously I’m sure – in the stories and poems you wrote.’

‘Sorry,’ Michael stammered, ‘I didn’t mean to make it obvious.’ Hints, what hints? He had no idea what she was talking about.

‘Don’t worry so much.’ Adele patted his thigh and left her hand there for her warmth to seep into his flesh. ‘You were very subtle. That was one of the things that first attracted me to you.’

‘One of the first,’ Michael repeated, ‘so there were others.’

‘Of course,’ Adele’s laugh tinkled. ‘All very subtle, apart from one, that is?’

‘And what was that?’ Michael was wondering if he had a mad woman on his hands.

‘Your cock. It was so obvious. When you stood up at the end of class, it was like you were carrying a girder in your shorts.’

Michael smiled modestly. He was proud of what he had, even compared himself with his friends, but in all honestly he’d not noticed he was that big.

‘Come on. Let’s not waste time.’ Adele put her empty can on a side table and stood up. ‘I’m an old-fashioned girl is some respects so I hope you won’t mind if we go into my bedroom.’

Michael followed as if in a daze.

Adele was sitting on the bed, casually unbuttoning her blouse.

‘Right, Michael, let’s see what you’ve got.’

Michael stared at her, unsure of what she meant.

‘Come on, let’s see that tackle you’ve kept packed away all term. Get your kit off.’

Michael, having finally got the message, swiftly undressed and stood before Adele, as he would before a doctor awaiting an examination. Adele’s eyes drifted down and stopped at his crotch, where a small mushroom was protruding. Michael’s eyes followed her gaze and he blushed with embarrassment at what little he had on show.

‘Don’t worry, Michael, we’ve not got started yet.’

She lay back on her bed, letting her blouse fall open to reveal her breast bone.

‘So tell me what you and your friends used to say about my breasts. Don’t be shy. Tell me everything.’

Michael tried now to recall those long discussions and what had been said. In the end, it all came down to one thing.

‘We used to wonder if you were wearing a bra.’

Adele’s tinkling laugh made him blush.

‘Was that it? Is that all you said about them? Well, as you can see, I am not wearing a bra. I told the principal that I wouldn’t. I know the rules, I told him, but my breasts do not require support. I offered to show him, but he said he would take my word for it.’

Adele shrugged the blouse off her shoulders, giving Michael his first sight of her breasts. He felt his cock twitch. They were small, not much bigger than his younger sister’s, but the nipples were much brighter red than he had expected and higher than he had expected, not like his mothers, which were lower down and more to the side. He licked his lips and failed to see Adele’s smile.

‘I hope you had more interesting discussions about the rest of me.’

Michael was relieved that they had and reported the detailed discussions. Again he reddened as Adele laughed. She stood and dropped her skirt around her ankles.

‘Well, as you can see, I am wearing a string.’ She kicked the skirt away and twirled so he could see her ass. ‘As I usually do. I only wear full panties when I am having a period.’

Again Michael reddened at this intimate information.

‘What about my pubes? What did you think they looked like?’

Michael confessed that they hadn’t mentioned them at all, not thought about them in fact. Another laugh and another blush.

‘Well, take a look.’

The string slipped easily over her hips and dropped to the floor, revealing a short thin strip of neatly trimmed hair.

‘That’s called a landing strip. It’s quite the rage at the moment.’

Michael had heard some of the girls in class giggling about landing strips, but hadn’t understood and didn’t dare ask his sister what they meant. He was still wondering whether he had been wise to come home with this teacher when she stepped forward and kissed him. Not a peck, a long lingering passionate kiss, with her tongue probing his mouth as her hand scratched his back. His cock was throbbing and pushing against Adele, but she didn’t seem to notice.

‘I think, as this is your first time, I should take the strain. Lie down on my bed.’

Michael obeyed, glad that he wasn’t going to have to take the lead with this woman. He watched as she climbed over his hips and lowered herself over his cock. Then that moment of bliss, the first sensation of a hot wet pussy enveloping him. She leant forward, holding his cock in a tight grip, and let her breasts swing in his face.

‘Suck my nipples, Michael, bite them to. Go on. Have some fun.’

Michael set to, eager to experience what a woman’s breasts tasted like, but he barely noticed, too aware of the rippling muscles of her cunt that were bringing him too quickly to orgasm.

‘No, no, he moaned,’ closing his eyes and trying, desperately, not to lose control. ‘Not yet, please not yet.’

‘Michael, Michael.’

Hands were shaking his shoulders and a female voice seemed to be calling him from a distance. He forced his eyes open, blinking against the light. His mother was leaning over him.

‘Michael, Michael, wake up, you’re going to be late for school. It’s your last day, come on, get up, or you won’t have time for breakfast.’

Michael rolled out of bed, scrambled into his clothes and gulped down his breakfast. As he headed into school, he wondered about his dream. Was it just random thoughts generated by his brain as it refreshed itself during the night? Or was it wish fulfilment? Or might, perhaps, it be a prediction, foretelling events that were to happen? He didn’t know, but it would do no harm to hang around to find out. So he pretended to have mislaid some of his belongings, waiting until the male teachers had driven away and his friends had all finally left. Then he sauntered slowly towards the entrance, giving Ms Rogers every chance to ask for his help. As he turned the corner, he found the corridor blocked.

‘Michael, just the man.’

This was Ms Chandler, who taught him gym. Had taught him, rather, because today was his last day. In her late 50s, she was tall and broad, with short grey hair.

‘Sorry, Michael, I know you must be eager to get away, but I need a hand and all the other men have gone.’

Was that the second time she had called him a man?