David’s Tall Girls’ School Ch. 04

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(It was late autumn of 1960 and I was 20 years old and was following my hobby of bird watching. I had unfortunately been captured by Amelia Wiff-Naseford, headmistress, for being a Peeping Tom in the grounds of ‘Dentwood Finishing School for Tall Girls aged 18 to 20 years old’. There were 120 girls registered at the school.

I had decided not to get the police involved by agreeing to submit myself to the ‘traditional’ Punishment Rules of the School. This involved being stripped naked, spread-eagled on the headmistress’ study carpet, and fettered to the floor with ropes and leather straps to metal rings set in the floorboards. I was then required to orally pleasure the ‘whole’ school. This is part four of my tale)


Samantha Knowles stood up and smiled down at me. If I wasn’t shackled to the floor I may have said something to her. She looked very pretty and I actually enjoyed tonguing her between her long legs. The hem of her pleated skirt twirled out as she left the room and a enjoyed a flash of petticoat hem beneath it. Matron cleaned me up and sprayed me with Cologne again. Matron’s knickers, I thought, had a prominent damp patch along her cleft and I wondered whether she was in urgent need to be ‘pleasured’.

“Michelle Lesquereux walk forward please,” came the familiar voice of Amelia Wiff-Naseford, headmistress, who was sitting behind me in her low leather chair. Miss W-N seemed to have woken up. Perhaps it was the effects of strong school tea I thought.

Michelle Lesquereux was ‘drop-dead’ gorgeous. She had thick dark hair styled into little flicks. She was clearly French as she had a ‘Gallic ‘ mouth which protruded and pouted somewhat as if she were used to saying the word ‘oooh’.

Her English appeared a little rusty and she did not understand what to do. Clearly from her position at the opposite end of the head teachers office she had only been able to see me spread-eagled, naked, face up on the floor. She would have seen her eighteen year old classmates flip up their skirts and remove their knickers and then squat over me. She could not see what I was doing because their flared tartan pleats spread over my chest and stomach would have hidden my face from view.

“What is it I do Madame? Do you want me to peepee?” she said in a husky French accent which instantly stiffened my penis almost to bursting point.

“No Michelle we do not want ‘peepee’ as you so delightfully put it, but we do want you to rub your genitalia over the ‘Tom’s’ face,” retorted Amelia looking into the girls deep brown eyes. There was a puzzled look in her face.

“Madame, what is genitalia please?” she said smiling sexily.

“Oh for pity’s sake girl. Miss Richardson come over here please, now thank you,” said Miss Wiff-Naseford.

A rather startled member of her staff trotted over in her high heels and flesh coloured stockings and beige A-line cotton skirt. She had very long curvaceous legs and she looked about thirty-five. She had black hair cut very short and she wore glasses.

“Will you please show this girl what to do,” Her voice was strained with frustration.

“Well you take off your panties, ‘culottes’ qui? Then you lift up your skirt, ‘votre jupe’ and petticoat ‘jupon’ qui. Then you squat ‘vous accroupez’ on his face ‘visage’ and rub ‘vous frottez’ your bottom ‘derriere qui?….” The geography teacher said appearing to be confusing the young French girl even further.

“Angela, I told you to ‘show’ her not to ‘tell’ her, now get on with it woman,” complained her superior.

Angela Richardson seemed to get into a panic as she reached under her skirt and petticoat and pulled her knickers down over her large rounded arse. Both she and Michelle stood near my head and I was able to see up both their skirts. My bahis firmaları penis was rock hard.

She shuffled nearer and shook her white nylon knickers down to her ankles and kicked them off. I noticed that they were badly stained. Staring at her head teacher and smiling self consciously she showed Michelle what to do by placing her brown two inch heeled shoes to either side of my head. Michelle looked down and nodded smiling.

“We do this to boys in France,” she said pensively, “but in the meadows they ask us to peepee on them afterwards.”

My mind was turning somersaults as I imagined her French boy friends, their faces covered in warm fresh salty female urine. My penis twitched.

“Continue Angela, if you please,” groaned Miss W-N, crossing her legs.

Above me Angela’s petticoat framed the view of thick ginger pubic hair. Her suspender belt was white and was firmly attached to the dark brown tops of her flesh coloured nylons. Her petticoat had one deep flounce edged in narrow lace at its hem. She opened her knees and bent her legs allowing her damp pubic hair to be pushed firmly into my nose.

Immediately I set to work with my tongue, opening her outer lips and exploring her inner labia. Her juices began to flow freely as I located her clitoral hood and exposed her little bud for further attention.

I noticed Michelle squatting down next to me taking note of what I was doing. I felt very self conscious and embarrassed having the young French girls eyes, as well as those of the headmistress’ on my wriggling tongue which was exploring up inside Miss Richardson’s dripping vagina.

Miss Richardson was rather put off by Michelle’s presence I could tell by her nervous coughing which my tongue experienced as her vaginal and buttock muscles clenched around it and above my face. My eyes darted about trying to concentrate.

Michelle cheekily lifted up Miss Richardson’s skirt and nylon underslip in order to obtain a better view. I became aware that the geography teacher was approaching her orgasm so continued with firmer lickings and tonguings.

My tongue was pushed up as far as possible and I felt little folds and uneven textured areas of flesh inside her as a probed her furiously. My face was running with vaginal lubrication and it began to gather uncomfortably in my eye sockets.

Miss Richardson spasmed and swore loudly, much to the annoyance of the headmistress who realised that I had again taken another woman past the ‘point of no return’. Angela’s knees creaked as she was helped up by Michelle.

“What does ‘Fucking Bloody Hell’ mean Miss Richardson,” she asked her geography teacher innocently in her husky French accent.

“So Michelle you know what to do now don’t you, so get on with it please,” said her headteacher in a matter of fact way. She stared at me then looked at her headmistress and began….

“Madame Wiff-Naseby, I was mistaken when I say that French boys do this to me. The boys at home just ask me to sit on their faces in my summer dresses, stockings and stiff net petticoats and they do nothing like this ‘Peeping Tom’ does. They play with themselves inside their trousers and open their mouths for my peepee but that is all.” Mademoiselle Lesquereux explained.

I felt sorry for this young French woman who so clearly was only used by the village boys a masturbatory aid. Whether she derived any personal pleasure in placing her private parts on the upturned faces of wanking boys was anyone’s guess.

“Miss Lesquereux if you please, s’il vous plait, merci,” said the ‘jolly’ old headmistress yawning behind me.

Michelle looked down at me as I stared up her flared pleated skirt and at her long legs encased in sheer black stockings. She twirled above me showing off an ivory coloured kaçak iddaa nylon underskirt beneath her concertina pleats. She smiled down as she lifted the back of her skirt and pulled her white nylon knickers down and stepped out of them.

She placed her three-inch heeled black patent leather court shoes to each side of my face. She lifted up the front of her skirt and petticoat so she could see my upturned face as she descended on me. Once she was comfortably in position squatting over my face she then let go of them and I entered her white petticoat underskirt world.

Michelle smelt of perfume and I wondered whether she sprayed her underwear to keep it fresh smelling. Perhaps this was something the village boys asked her to do?

She smeared her vaginal lips over my nose as I began tonguing her. Almost instantly her thighs dripped with juices. My nostrils were assaulted by a deliciously strong odour which seemed to complement the musky flowery odours of her perfumed underwear.

I had not realised how odours could combine. I remember Mary McAllister, a friend of my Scottish aunt, once told me that she put a large dab of vaginal secretion on her ‘pulse points’ as she considered it was sexually attractive to men. I held no opinion until now.

Michelle bounced about on top of me singing a little French nursery rhyme in her childlike French accent. I understood from this that her perverted boyfriends probably had insisted she sang nursery rhymes to them as they wanked themselves senseless beneath her pretty little dresses. It all sounded very sordid but I was envious just the same.

Within an instant Michelle came, her whole body shuddering and shaking as if hit by an earthquake. She was still shaking and quivering as she collapsed back on top of me, her legs wide apart, her stockings had come loose from her suspenders.

My penis was bent and squashed by her body weight. I tried to buck this lifeless long-legged girl off me but all my movements caused her to do was to push a high heel shoe into my face. Matron had fallen asleep so there did not appear to be help available. I shouted for aid.

“She’s collapsed, wake up Michelle. Wake up.” I ranted.

The head teacher looked up from her book and saw that Michelle had passed out. Matron was prodded into life and gingerly stepped over me to pull the girl into a recovery position. This was difficult as I was in the way.

Matron, Miss Wiff-Naseford and Miss Richardson dragged her body onto her side so she lay over me and across me. Unfortunately she lay with her face in my groin my penis tip touching her mouth. Matron tried to pull her away but she was deadweight and she slumped further into my naked crotch.

They attempted to remove her clothes to allow her more air. All they succeeding in doing was to unbutton her blouse and loosen her bra.

“Get her some water, quickly,” screamed Miss Wiff-Naseford standing with her feet apart astride my head. Needless to say the view up her skirt of petticoat, tight nylon panties and stockings caused my penis to stiffen. One of Michelle’s classmates rushed off to the kitchen.

Miss W-N seemed unaware that her every movement above me was exposing her delightful thighs above her stockings to my lecherous gaze. My penis extended further and I felt it push its way into Michelle’s unconscious mouth. Her classmate returned with the water.

“Give that glass to me please,” said Matron as she attempted to move Michelle’s lips away from my glistening knob-end. Matron told the sleeping girl to try and drink.

Michelle moved her foot slightly and her shoe came off next to my face. She appeared to be not aware of her surroundings and poked around with her feet trying to find something firm to rest them on. Unfortunately kaçak bahis she chose my face. Both her black stocking clad feet with reinforced toes and heels wrapped themselves round my neck.

It must have been a very lewd sight. Here I was lying spread-eagled naked on the head mistress’s carpet.

My wrists and ankles were attached to leather straps which in turn were attached to long ropes which were strapped to iron rings bolted to the floor at four corners of the room.

Standing near the door were nine six-foot tall eighteen year old girls wearing white cotton blouses over white bras and under grey v-neck sweaters. The rest of their uniform consisted of navy-blue pleated flared tartan skirts ending at the knee. Under their skirts they all wore petticoats, or nylon underslips, black fine-denier seamed stockings supported by suspender belts. They all wore high heeled patent leather court shoes.

Sitting to one side of the room on sofas were two members of staff.

Over me lay an unconscious long legged French girl with no knickers on. Her stocking feet were wrapped round my neck while her motionless face lay in my groin, my penis between her lips.

Above me a tall slim forty year old headmistress wearing a grey pleated tweed skirt and white blouse stood over my face allowing me a clear view up her skirt of her underslip, knickers and naked thighs above her stockings.

Matron and Miss Richardson stood above Michelle trying to revive her with water.

“Sip this Michelle, sip this young lady. Michelle, Michelle,” pleaded Matron to the girl whose head lay between my parted legs.

I felt movement as her face turned. Her thick hair stimulating my inner thighs.

“Sip this Michelle come on, you’ve fainted that’s all.” Insisted Matron trying to remove my penis from Michelle’s lips and introduce water to her mouth.

Above me Miss ‘Bossy Boots’ Wiff-Naseford gave me further tempting underskirt glimpses of her shapely arse as she stared in a concerned and worried manner at her French pupil.

My penis again stiffened and slid back into Michelle’s mouth. Unbelievably and to my absolute surprise and delight which she began sucking it as if it was a teat.

“Oh my goodness,” I thought, “She thinks it’s water.”

I heard her moaning in her attractive sexy French accent. Matron was going frantic trying to prize her lips away from my penis. The other girls quickly gathered round intrigued at the stiff fleshy object that had slid into Michelle’s pouting French mouth.

I, of course, reacted enthusiastically to the persistent sucking and could hardly believe my good fortune. My penis appeared to double in size.

Matron and Miss Wiff-Naseford decided it was time to stop the proceedings and again tried to lift the girl off me. Her deadweight merely caused her to groan.

Her sucking actually became stronger. Perhaps subconsciously she could not understand that there was no water in her ‘bottle’. Her semi-conscious brain was obviously telling her to suck me more vehemently.

She sucked and sucked and sucked and sucked. I felt seminal fluid rising inside me while she kept sucking me more and more.

She kept on sucking and sucking and sucking.

I could withstand no more of this merciless sensual onslaught. The nine girls urged me on as Miss Wiff-Naseford told me to stop.

It was too late; twelve vigorous thrusts emptied my testicles into the young eighteen year olds mouth. She spluttered into life and sat up.

“Thank goodness you are OK,” said one of her friends leaning across me in such a way that I could clearly see she had a damp patch between her knicker legs. As other girls twirled their skirts above me I could see that most, if not all, had new damp crotches in their white knickers. Clearly watching Michelle sucking my penis must have caused some sort of erotic reaction.

I also noticed that the headmistress had a damp patch in her knickers as well.

(continued in part five)

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