Hermione s New School
- 4 years ago
- 72
- 0
She shouldn’t really have been teaching us. We were a boy’s school in 1971, we were 6th formers, 17 and 18 year olds; so the student teacher was only 5 or so years older than we were. And she was a looker. A distinct distraction from the lesson, especially if the theoretical aspects of biology didn’t hold much interest. On the other hand she had done Environmental Science and our two teachers were a microbiologist from sometime before Hooke invented the microscope and a biochemist who thought everything bigger than a cell was of little interest. The ecology part of the syllabus suffered, and that was the part that I found most interesting.
So in the lessons, whilst I had to admit that she was a looker, I didn’t notice the stretch of her blouse over her breasts, the everso slight hint of cleavage as she bent over to look at your work, shape of her bottom as she stretched to write at the top of the board. Okay, so I DID notice, I just ignored it. OKAY! So I didn’t ignore it, but I did take more interest in the subject of ecology than the subject being observed. So did Jim and Michael (aiming to be doctors, needed good grades), Derek (if he wasn’t gay, he did a good impression – it was illegal or unacceptable then so he never said), Germaine (long term permanent girlfriend and so, so very in love with her – and rumoured to be getting his end away as often and as much as he liked). The rest? They looked and they talked about all they would do if they got the chance (and we all knew what they would do would be to run a mile), but of course they were never, ever, going to get the chance. Even a student teacher can generally do better than an impecunious, spotty (probably), inexperienced, pupil. Now reverse the sexes and I could see a good argument for a male student teacher being ready and willing to score with 6th form girls; actually it seemed to happen with depressing regularity.
The changing distribution of Aramices alveolus as the slope became damper towards the stream, that was interesting. More interesting than the in-depth discussion of how big her tits were.
“Definitely a D, maybe double DD”
“Double DD would be DDDD you plank. Nah, she’s got padding, she’s a C”
“Whaaa? You gotta be joking, them’s a D, easy”
“What you reckon Steve, you’s at the front ogling her all lesson?”
“What? Oh dunno, what’s it matter, you’ll never get to see them you pervs. She isn’t going to rip open her blouse and shout ‘come and squeeze me’ to a bunch of spotty pervs like you is she?”
That’s me; Steve. Steve the world famous ecologist – that was the aim. Still, nothing happens the way you plan it does it?
On top of being an apparently sexless geek I helped run the JCC (Junior Christian Club), schools still did stuff like that then. I wasn’t exceptionally religious, that evening I was the only leader there; sometimes there were more of us. On the day we are remembering I had just run it. The scrotty kids had all gone, I was tidying up, putting the books away, ‘admiring’ the doodles by James (every week a load of penises on the work sheet, then he’d swap it with someone else’s. He thought I didn’t know it was him), his Dad was the vicar of Dumfield so James was pretty well obliged to come; he definitely wasn’t religious material then. He’s a bishop now (I changed his name to protect his blushes). The school was empty by now except for the cleaners; teachers all zoomed off for the pub on a Friday. I took the back exit across the staff car park, only one car still there. Emily’s, I mean Miss Jameson’s, Citroen 2CV. A real statement – “I’m a lefty, Guardian reading, tree hugger”. But she was sitting in it, crying softly.
Perhaps the diplomatic thing would have been to politely ignore her, pretend not to notice and when on Monday she said “Didn’t I see you late on Friday leaving school?” you just reply “Did you? Oh yes I was a bit late leaving”
But I’m not diplomatic (see remark on newly birthed mother “why haven’t you lost weight now the baby’s out?”), never have been.
“Miss? Are you okay?”
“What? Oh, I didn’t see you Smith. Umm, yes, the car won’t start. It’s not been a good week”
I’m as expert at cars as my Mum was at cooking (you haven’t tasted bad cooking until you’ve tried her burnt fish fingers and rice surprise – the surprise is that the burnt fish fingers were hidden under a great mound of white rice) but I couldn’t say that. So I did a scientific breakdown.
“You’re sure it has petrol?”
“I’m blonde, but I’m not dumb blonde” She smiled after that, phew!
“Okay, just checking. Does it turn over?”
“What?”
“The engine, does it turn over?”
She tried the key and we got a sort of cough and then nothing. Now that, I knew may be the result of it not starting, people just keep trying. “Oh, it hasn’t started after go number 17, I’ll try it again.” IT AIN’T GONNA START!
I opened the bonnet and peered in. Dad used to have an old Rover with a crank handle for when the battery was dead, I remember him winding it up a hill once after it had refused to bump start down it. This car should have had a crank handle but Miss Jameson just looked blank when I asked; when I looked in the boot there were some tools in the back including a handle. I tried a couple of turns and realised this was not looking good. Inspiration! The spark plugs! I headed back to the boot.
“I’m impressed with the tools you carry Miss.”
“It’s my brother’s car, that’s part of the problem. If it’s fu-- I mean if it’s broken then he’ll blame me. He just loaned it to me for this placement ... And since school is over you can call me Emily, back to Miss Jameson on Monday though. And you are?”
“Steve” Being an old-style Grammar School we were all called by our surnames by the teachers. There are three Smiths and two Browns in our class; hours of fun.
I took out a spark plug and smelt it. “Well it smells of petrol so that shows the petrol is getting through”
“That’s good isn’t it?”
“Yes, but it probably also means the engine is flooded.” She looked concerned, no doubt imagining the cylinders full of petrol. “It just means that because it hasn’t started the spark plugs have got wet with petrol condensing on them. Petrol” I said, warming to having an attentive and apparently appreciative audience “doesn’t conduct, so no spark”
I took the others out and we wandered over to the school laboratories. Ah! The 1970s, before Health and Safety gone mad, when labs were left unlocked and Bunsen burners were left out. I lit a burner and held each spark plug in the flame. Emily again looked a little concerned, but was content to assume that I, a 17 year old Grammar School boy with a GCE in Latin and no practical training in life, knew what I was doing. She obviously didn’t know us very well. Still, so far, watching Dad maintain a string of old cars had obviously rubbed something off onto me and I was still in my comfort zone (I don’t think we had them then actually, they were issued in the 1990s) I carried them back in my handkerchief as they were still hot. Thank goodness it was clean, no snots or anything, at least it was until I put the oily plugs in it.
“Won’t your mother be cross?”
“Don’t worry” I’d already thought I’d throw it away to save the inevitable long explanation required, with Dad checking the technical details (“Did you check the overhead diaphragm convolvulator? Or was it only the 1965 model that had that?”) and Mum asking pointless things like “So why was a woman in the car park?” She never listens much. “By the way, you went to Southampton didn’t you?” She nodded. “I’d appreciate a chat sometime about their course. I want to do Ecology or Environmental Science”
“Okay, sure. I noticed you concentrating a lot. I’m glad it was for the subject” Obviously she meant “and not just staring at my boobs and arse like the other Neanderthals”
I gingerly put them in with an occasional “ouch” as they really were hot. I hoped they weren’t too hot. Then the moment of truth, I swung the starting handle and ... Nothing. Try again, and once more and “rrrrruuummph, bubble, bubble bubble” The 2CV sounds like no other car (and like no car should sound like that to be honest), we had something that sounded like a lawnmower with barely more power.
“Oh well done Steve! You’re brilliant”
“My pleasure Miss, I mean Emily” The trouble with first names is they are more personal. I started to see the bird behind the teacher if you get my drift. I began to realise that all the things Dave and Jackson (always his surname, I wonder why? Maybe his first name was embarrassing, like Francis or Xavier or something) had been saying weren’t just theoretical observations. The breasts they lusted after were real, tangible, wobbly, soft. I could feel a stir in my loins. Unfortunately Emily was jumping up and down for joy and that really didn’t help.
“I was meant to be going for a drink with the teachers, but I guess it’s too late now. Umm” She looked at me “I don’t suppose I could buy you a drink to say thank you? We could talk about the course if you like”
“YES! I mean yes” No point in telling her that I was underage, and a Christian and not sure about drinking. No, it would be churlish to turn her down. “but you really need to drive around a bit to charge up the battery” Also, I didn’t want to go to The Rose and Crown because that was the teachers’ local and they might still be there, and I didn’t want to go to The Golden Duck because Mike and the rugby ‘blokes’ drank there and would make lewd suggestions and gestures, and The Black Prince was Dad’s local and even if he wasn’t there somebody he knew probably would be and would mention seeing me (we went in sometimes, Christmas, birthdays, you know); but anyway it was true about charging the battery.
“Well”, she said, “do you have any suggestions?”
It was a lovely, warm, early summer evening. “The Polecat!”
“Sounds, err, delightful”
“It is a bit out of the town, and it really is a nice pub”
It really was, I’d come across it a year or two ago when out cycling. In a small village, off the beaten track. I’d suggested going there to Mum and Dad a couple of times but they said it didn’t appear in the paper’s good pub guide or the restaurant reviews; oh yes, like they only went to Michelin starred restaurants! We never went. This was before CAMRA really took off. The pubs they liked were all the same; tarted up, serving carbonated gnat’s piss on tap, same food (“chicken in a basket, very swish”) in every one. ‘Safe and bland’ was the family motto.
“Well, as you say, I need to drive a bit to charge up the battery”
We went back into the school, to the staff room so I could use the phone. This may have been a bad week for Emily, it was turning out to be a good week for me. We had the phone installed, finally, a week ago. No phone would have meant no trip out. I was the last person in my class, I think, to have a phone. Dad always maintained he didn’t want to be called from work at weekends, and that suited Mum’s rather parsimonious (alright, cheapskate) nature. But finally they emerged kicking into the 20th Century just in time for me to be able to ring them.
“Hi Mum, listen I’m going to be late back”
“Okay”
“I’m going to have a chat with a teacher” (“A young, hot, sexy, female teacher” I could have added but she was standing nearby) “about University”
“Okay”
“Not sure when I’ll be in”
“Okay”
“Okay then.”
“Oh, will you have eaten?”
“Not sure, don’t worry. If I need to I’ll get something when I come in”
“Okay” Ah! She was watching Emmerdale or Neighbours or one of the other 101 soaps she was absolutely besotted with. She wasn’t really listening; she always thought I needed more friends so she was fine with the idea of me being out. Dad would be okay too, he’d be even more pleased if he could see who I was with and where I was going. He wanted me to be more manly (he wasn’t the intellectual type). I actually think if I was brought home drunk in a police car with blood oozing from a couple of cuts after a bottle fight, he’d have been quite pleased.
So that was done. We set off out of town under my directions. I had to look at her to tell her where to go. I snuck quick looks at her profile, the firm, fairly prominent bust, the small stomach, oh yes and the short skirt which had ridden up in the car seat. Once I saw how much I could see, and it was only a bit of thigh, well I still couldn’t help looking again. She saw me looking and pulled her skirt down as she drove. Never said anything though, she could have taken me to task as a teacher or as a woman. Feminism was in and looking at women as sex objects was out. However wearing mini-skirts was also in and there was a distinct contradiction in my book with “we want to dress as sexy young women but YOU can’t see us as sexy young women”
We joined the dual carriageway
“I don’t really like driving on these big roads, especially in this. It feels like lorries could blow us over”
“It’s okay, we’ll be turning off, left, soon. Yes, there towards Lower Bunch.”
“I’ve been there, I thought the pub there was The Mayflower?”
“It is, but we aren’t going there”
We turned off the dual carriageway, then right, then left. Each time the road got smaller. Now we were on a single width road with passing places; round the corner and there it was. Under Partny, a village from the Middle Ages that was probably still wondering how Elizabeth the First would get on after that nasty old Mary, it really looked like it hadn’t changed since then. The pub was at the far end, just by the river; a chalk stream (used to be a river) of clear water. The pub was probably where the ferry ran from before the bridge was built. The bridge took the road over and looped back to bigger roads. In other words this road to Under Partny was just a long-cut (rather than a short-cut) to nowhere in particular.
Bucolic, I think that’s the word.
“When I first came here there was still sawdust in the Saloon Bar”
“You sound like an old man”
“I know, but it really is a throwback. It may have moved on a little, but not too much”
Before we went in I got her to switch off and then start the engine again. It started easily; of course it was warm, but the engine turned over fine. The battery was charged up again.
We went in and, being a ‘man’, I offered to get her a drink.
“I thought I was buying you one”
“You can buy the next one”
“Oh, so there’s going to be more than one? Okay. Shall we sit outside by the river? I’ll go and find a table. I’ll have whatever you’re having”
I was going to have a pint of lager, but now I realised I couldn’t. I couldn’t buy some weak crap that tasted like the barman was peeing them himself, it would look wussy. On the other hand I couldn’t buy some beer that would put hairs on your chest, because Emily’s chest looked nicer unhairy I was sure. Why do women do this to men? Any decision could be the wrong one. That’s something that hasn’t changed (“Will you go and buy something for tea?”, “What would you like?”, “Oh, Anything”... “I’m back, I bought pizza”, “Ohh, oh well, I suppose that will do”). I bought two pints of their Yeoman’s Surprise. Bad (or good) move. Yeoman’s Surprise is 5.6%. But I have to admit it tastes wonderful. A mild hop-y flavour with slight lemony overtones. That night I was converted to proper beer, I never drank lager again. I joined the campaign for real ale and wrote my first book “The Old Inns of Kent” when I was 23; ever since I’ve had a great sideline in the county series of “The Old Inns” books. It has given me rather a large girth though. Still it was a night for new discoveries.
So we sat outside and talked about university choices and religion and boyfriends (hers).
“He was such an out and out bastard. He dumped me while I was staying with him at his parents’ house. What could I do?”
“What did you do?”
“I left the house at 2am, walked 2 miles to the station, it was only half a mile away but I got lost. I slept on a bench and got the first train - at 5:30am. Do you know, he rang me? He said his parents were worried. HIS PARENTS! NOT HIM!”
“Umm, you’re shouting”
“Sorry ... That was the start of the week, then the car, and some builder whistling at me and shouting “I’ll give yer one darling”
“Give you one of what? Oh, oh, yes, I see. Sorry. I suppose it was kind of a compliment?”
“If you have the ambition to be lusted after by a moronic, cement covered, overweight, jerk yes” I smiled and she carried on “And that moron in your class, what’s his name?”
“There are a few to choose from”
“Jackson, and his mate. They are always ogling my tits”
I went red, both because she said that, that she’d used the word ‘tits’ rather than some neutral word like ‘chest’ or ‘upper body’ and because I was just thinking she really, really had nice tits.
“Sorry, I’m embarrassing you” she said
“No, honestly. It’s fine. The thing is, you are at a boys’ school; and boys of our age do have rather major hormone rushes; and you, well you do kind of fit most boys’ perfect fantasy”
“I think that was a kind of compliment?”
“It was, sort of. I mean no, actually it is just a statement of fact. You must realise you look fantastic? A few of us are more interested in science than, well, you know; but it must have dawned on you that you’re a looker?”
“Yes, yes I know. I was trying to get to the girls’ school over the road. I saw the advert for a student teacher, looked up the school and missed that there were two Grindleham Grammar Schools. By the time I was in the interview I was hooked, it is a lovely school and the younger pupils are a delight to teach. And having a CV showing you’ve taught in a range of schools is an advantage apparently. Should I wear frumpy clothes and look like the secretary?”
The school secretary was at least 110 years old, wore grey with matching grey and had a scowl for any boy unlucky enough to need to see her.
The thing is it was true, the more I looked, the more I realised. Long silky blonde hair, large (not overlarge like Divine) breasts; perfect, tight, bottom; and shapely legs. The fact that she had brains was neither here or there to most boys. She was a body they could, well they did fantasise over, I explained.
“So, am I yours?”
Damn, I was in a corner. “You are very beautiful, totally out of my league” I replied. I wanted to say too old, (though I meant I was too young), for me. Not that she was old, just that she wouldn’t want a boy like me.
“Nicely put. That was a dum question, you could hardly say ‘nah Emily, you’re a skank’” We both laughed; it was the wrong thing to say though if she was trying to maintain her distance, I really like a girl with a sense of humour. She went and got two more pints, we were trying the ‘Buxom Barmaid’ now (5.4%, darker, smoother, nearly a brown ale in some ways), I nearly made a crass comment that it should be called ‘Buxom Teacher’, I stopped myself just in time, she also brought some menus.
“Interesting name, I think the barman has bigger boobs than me!”
“I’m sure that’s not true”
“Oh, so you have checked them out, despite your interest in academic studies?”
She was still smiling, I liked her. I checked my wallet while she was gone. I had enough for another round, but not for food too.
“I’ve decided, I’m going to buy you dinner, it’s the least I can do and you bought the first round so we are even on that”
We ordered food therefore, and while we waited we drank our drinks and admired the view; that is to say she admired the countryside and I admired her AND the countryside. She was explaining something and waved an arm, sending a menu flying. Getting up and turning round, she bent down to pick it up. She looked up and saw me clearly admiring her bottom. I went red again. I had to admit, my thoughts were becoming less and less Christian.
Still waiting for the food; I went and bought another round (“let’s try the porter”; ‘Black Bess’ – 5.9% and a meal in itself). As we finished the meal and the third pint; we both found ourselves using the toilets a few times as the fluid content of our bodies went up.
“I’ve just realised” she said “I’m way over the limit. I’d only intended to have one small drink”
“We could get a taxi”
“I haven’t enough, the pub has a B&B sign outside, but I probably haven’t enough for that either”
1971 – Britain hadn’t collapsed into the credit card nightmare it is now; most pubs were cash only, no cash machines either. Then I remembered. “I have a cheque book. I’d forgotten. I opened a new account recently, ready for university. No money in it, but I have a cheque guarantee card too; and I can get money in the account before the cheque is presented”
“Are you sure? I can pay you back on Monday” She went to the barman, and came back. “They only have two rooms, one single, one double; and the single’s taken. So that’s that. I’m sure I’ll be okay to drive if I’m careful”
“If you got caught, with me in the car too, your career would be over. The double is probably a twin anyway”
We went up to the landlord again “The room, we’ll take it.” He eyed us both. “£25”
I don’t know what possessed me. “You won’t rent it for tonight to anybody else now, how about £15?”
“But then you won’t find anything else, £25”
“Maybe true, but then that’s more than a taxi home would cost” As I said it I thought “bugger, that’s probably true, Emily might think that a better option”. I carried on “How about £20?”
Barman : “Okay”
Emily looked at me with something like admiration. I got my chequebook out (which I had taken to school to show off with. It was entirely unused).
“Oh, hang on” he said “I didn’t know it was a cheque”
“I have a guarantee card. It’s as good as money”
Reluctantly he agreed and we added another round to celebrate. Shorts this time as we were both sloshing in beer by now. Emily had a gin and orange; I had a rum and peppermint. It was horrible, someone I knew had said they were nice. They were wrong. Still, it didn’t fill up my bladder.
“I’d better phone home to say”
“Will they be alright about it?”
“Oh yes, it’s a Friday. No problem” I wondered if this was true. Turns out I was dead on.
I looked at her with new eyes. Her hair was hanging forwards and her sweet face looked so soft. I looked at her perfectly straight legs, slightly tanned. He thighs were full and her calves had a lovely roundness to them. She had a woman’s legs - not those of a typical skinny schoolgirl. I felt my cock starting to twitch and decided the best thing would be to get this over with a.s.a.p. I moved behind her, holding the ruler poised above her glorious behind. Simone The Schoolgirl (Part One) A...
StraightSimone's high school adventure: by Simone Clark I was a high school student in the mid-80s on the East Coast of the United States. I love the fashions of the 80s, leather skirts, high heels, dresses for the ladies and big hair. When I was in high school, I was surrounded by teenage girls dressed in these clothes, and I desperately wanted to be one of them. I am a cross-dresser, and have been a cross-dresser since about age 12 when I first tried on my mother's pantyhose. Being a...
Hey all… Myself Raj back with yet another new experience and yeah this time something new. Drop your comments @ Firstly wanna thank all the true/fake/despo/ladies and other profiles or people who dropped comments showed interest and then create negative environment. Sorry guys,girls & ladies. These are my true experiences and I would not like any of my sentiments hurted. Appreciate you behave properly. Anyways back to fun… Out of all mails received I got a mail from a Muslim couple from...
The trip to San Francisco, California, goes at a faster pace than Boone likes because Peter, the trader, is pushing to get there and back home. Boone has little choice about matching Peter’s pace if he wants to get the extra money for hauling the goods. At camp on the night after the first full day Boone walks over to Peter and ask, “Is this the pace you’ll be keeping all the way to San Francisco and back to Arizona City?” Peter looks up at Boone from where he’s sitting as he says, “Only on...
After Boone sees everyone in the camp is properly set out for their first night in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, he goes over to the cooking fire for the Gray contingent, asks for both Olive and Nellie to walk with him, and he walks toward the horses. He stops short of the rope corral they’ve put up for the stock, turns to the two young ladies, and says, “A couple of weeks back your mother told me both of you want to be my wife and have insisted I’ll be your man for some years. Is that...
The trip of about five hundred miles to Santa Fe should take them about twelve to fourteen days to make the journey. After much talking on who’ll go Mary decides Nellie and Sam will accompany Boone and he’s to hire three or four of the Apache as scouts. After the decision is made preparations are made for the trip, the three family members will share the gold between them in their saddlebags, and the ladies will lead two pack-horses carrying their camping gear and food supplies. To ensure...
Bright and early on Monday July 1st, 1861 the doors to the barn are opened and the four wagons move out. Yesterday afternoon was spent cleaning up the barn and stables and now they’re leaving after several weeks of living there while getting ready to go west. Three of the wagons are fully loaded and the fourth is mostly loaded, they’ll finish loading it when they reach Columbus, Ohio, where they plan to buy a great deal of salt. Nellie is at the reins of the lead wagon pair with Heidi in...
When rolling into town mid-morning Boone has a stray thought of, Something must be wrong! This is a Tuesday, not a Monday. We never get anywhere except on a Monday. He’s amused by the thought. During the afternoon they talk while they unpack the wagons, and Boone says, “While in Council Bluffs I caught up on the news. There’s been a dozen or so battles between Army units in Missouri since April, hundreds of shootings and killings in Kansas, and militia attacking the people all over Kansas...
Following the talks in December 1859 Mary, Heidi, and Boone start their preparations to leave Virginia. Materials and things are bought and put aside, for now. The tensions and troubles increase with each passing month of 1860. Mary, Heidi, and Boone become more worried with each rise in the tensions between the two major political forces. Boone starts to build a wagon like his father made using his father’s drawings which Mary has. They don’t have a farm wagon so he builds two of the large...
Sabrina Davis is a 18-year old high school student at North Lake High. Although she doesn’t know it yet, today is going to be very, very embarrassing for her. She won’t be forgetting today for a long time. Today will be full of nudity, humiliation, and much more for poor Sabrina. But where do we start? Edit 8/3/20: Thanks everyone for all the likes, comments, and views! The story is now public, anybody can add a chapter without my approval. Have fun!
Howlaween It was Halloween night and the house was still. I settled in with a bourbon boiling brew and chocolate bars. Finally alone downstairs I had a chance to go through a large orange plastic jack-o-lantern found after scores of years in the attic. I poured out the contents inside my eyes lit up as bundles of vanished photos wrapped in orange and black ribbons like presents from decades fell to the coffee table. They had been mislaid decades earlier and found after my wife, Hermione,...
The trail west from Fort Laramie, Nebraska Territory, is well marked due to the many hundreds of wagons along the trail in the past twenty years. Many of the worst parts of the trail have been improved by earlier wagon-trains; which just means the trail is wide enough for the wagons, it’s well marked, also some water crossings have stones in them to stop the crossing from washing away, and some of the worst crossings now have ferries in place to make them easier. There are still some places...
This story is a two part. We did it my way, then her way. Enjoy The first part is about how a schoolgirl fantasy, that I wanted to do with my girlfriend. The second part is how my girlfriend did the same kind of fantasy, but she had a twist of her own to do it. It all started, when we looking up costume on what to be for her Halloween company party. She wanted to be something sexy because everyone in her office think it's kind of boring, and she wants to change that. We were looking online and...
StraightWishbone: Along Came Jacki By The Sympathetic Devil [email protected] Dave came home from work early, his bitchy boss having told him he wouldn't be needed there anymore. He hated his life! How was he ever going to get laid when he was unemployed and still lived in his mother's apartment at 25? Something was weird. His mother's clothes are scatted all over the living room. She pitched a fit if Dave so much as left his jacket on the arm of the couch, but now her bra is...
It was an audacious plan even for me, and I wasn't sure that he would go for it. It would mean quite a commitment on his part, and he`d only just left off fucking Mary-Ann. Let me explain. I`m Caro (short for Caroline) and a nineteen, almost twenty-year-old virgin. I didn't plan it that way, but my libido didn`t get going until last year, and I`ve been getting really horny lately. So much so that I now carry a spare pair of panties in my bag in case of spontaneous emissions (Yes, it...
Hi, my self ketan . I am new reader of iss.. dosto maine bahut see story read ki hai ise ssite se. par ye sab mujhe clear nahi lagti. Lekin mai jo aaj story sunane jar aha hoo. Wo ekdam fact and true hai. Meri story start hoti hai school ke dinoo se. main surat me padta tha. Mere school me el ladki thi uska naam tha yogita singh. Jab maein 8th std. mein tha tabhi amine use first time dekha. Use dekthe hi mujhe pyaar aa gya. Lekin pur saal hamari baat nahi hui. Me ladkiyoon se baat karne me...
Dave came home from work early, his bitchy boss having told him he wouldn’t be needed there anymore. He hated his life! How was he ever going to get laid when he was unemployed and still lived in his mother’s apartment at 25? Something was weird. His mother’s clothes are scatted all over the living room. She pitched a fit if Dave so much as left his jacket on the arm of the couch, but now her bra is hanging from the ceiling fan. Her clothes weren’t the only ones either. A man’s jeans and...
Six weeks later and it was half term from school normally I would stay at college. However my parents were out of town and didn’t trust Megan to stay on her own for the week. I jumped at the chance to stay and “babysit” my little sis. When I arrived my parents had already left and my sister was in the garden sunbathing. She was wearing some frilly French knickers and an unstrapped bra. I shouted over “Hi”, she quickly did up her bra and came running over to me, flung her arms around me and give...
Pluto was rudely awakened by a loud dinner triangle, ringing as Persephone walked down the stairs. “Time to eat up slave!” as she walked down the spiral staircase. Pluto had been locked into the large cage he had seen the night before. He was still completely naked, save for the chastity cage which very uncomfortably suffocated his penis. He looked up and his jaw nearly dropped. He had seen Persephone last night, but that was in a confusing, hazy daze. Now he had his full senses about him and...
LIONEL, LORD OF THE JUNGLE by Jason "Ooooooggg, yahoooooooo!" With the ease of an animal born to it, Lionel Lord of the Jungle moved through the lush forest canopy of equatorial Africa with practised elegance, huge biceps bulging, sinews stretched, fine toned muscles rippling the entire length of his near naked, glistening body. In a mode of travel unique to him and the lesser primates he swung effortlessly from trailing vine to trailing vine to cover in a few minutes a...
Persephone finally had Pluto where she wanted him. It had been a tiring chase, but she knew the prize was worth it. With most men being hunted nearly to extinction, she was determined not to let this one get away. Now he was tied down on her milking table, in the depths of her dungeon. And she was going to extract every drop of semen from him however she could.With technological advances and women's growing superior intellect, most women decided that the world did not need men and all of their...
Music wafted through the warm spring air like ribbons of sound, reaching my ears in jumps and starts as I went to answer the phone. ‘…Don’t open ’till doomsday, destruction’s not far away…’ It was the Misfits, playing through my crappy two dollar speakers at the other end of the house. When I reached the phone it had already rung six times. I was really hoping whoever it was would give up, I hate phone conversations. Of course, I had no such luck. ‘Hello?’ I asked, in that...
The final day of term was mighty hectic. A lot of tears and taking of phone numbers, addresses, future education plans, ‘I’m sure going to miss you ladies. It’s been a real gas. We’ve had some fabulous times together and I just hope we’ll bump into each other sometime in the future,’ I said. And then it hit me! That’s what it was - Paul. I had really been missing him since our liaison and, stupidly I didn’t even know what his surname was! Later that day I would be even further away from him...
Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me. Harry Potter and all the associated characters named in the story are the property of J. K. Rowling and her publishers and have been used without permission. As fan fiction, no money has been charged, or may be charged, for publication of this work. Hermione Granger had snuck out of the castle that was Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry because Hagrid, the half-giant game keeper, had finally agreed to show her what she had wanted...
It was one of those balmy early Fall days, the leaves on the trees overhung the river dressed in Magenta and Gold. I could see them from the huge deck I had built on the West side of our house overlooking the water, just a half mile away. I knew the Fall Chinook would be arriving, it was early for them but still, such a pretty day, worth a shot. I asked my wife Kay if she wanted to go fishing, she knows I love days out on the river. But her fear of water shows in her reluctance, often she...
(The following is a direct sequel to the MCSA classic Wishbone: Student Teaching. The story picks up a short time after that one ends.) Janet Gardner walked to the door as her doorbell rang. It was almost 7 PM now; far later than any company that the 54 year old spinster generally expected to receive. "Who could possibly need anything this late?" She grumbled to herself. As she opened the door and saw who waited on the other side, her irritation grew. An average looking teenage boy stood on...
Mind ControlIt was the last Friday of out last holidays of our schooling career. Both Jessica and myself knew that once back at school and starting our final few weeks with final exams that we wouldn't see much of each other. We therefore made sure that we would spend time together on the last Friday of our holiday. I woke up that morning and a little after 8 30 am I hopped into my car and made my way over to Jessica's house. We were alone for the day and on arrival she met me in the entrance hall wearing...
Wishbone LITE By TwoSpiritsTG ----------------------------------------------------------------------- This was a short story I entered into a TG fiction competition a few years back with a 1000 word maximum (This story is 1010 words). For the record, I did win first place. I originally wasn't going to upload it here because of how short it is, but decided otherwise and here we are. If there is demand to expand it to something more I'll gladly do...
"Mount up, babydoll!" he said. At last understanding, Christine squealed and leapt to her feet. She pulled up her skirt and wiggled her hungry red beaver at him. She needed a trim. With a wish, all her pubes fell out, then an arrow-shaped landing strip grew in their place. "Are you really going to fuck me Mr. Phillips?" she asked eagerly. "You bet your sweet ass I'm going to fuck you, Christine!' he exclaimed, reaching around to grab said ass. "It really is your only hope of...
Hermione the Shiteater Interview with Hermione Granger taken by Rita Skeeter in Hogwarts, 1st June 1998. Wizarding Wireless broadcast. RITA SKEETER. Good morning, my dear listeners. I'm Rita Skeeter, your favorite journalist, and I'm visiting Hogwarts School today. Make your wizarding wireless louder, because you'll hear the most mind-blowing interview in my career. Of course you know how our glorious and mighty Dark Lord banned all the mudbloods and blood-traitors from attending...
Hermione's POV Ronald That name had been floating around in Hermione's head for the past weeks. He was the only thing she could think and dream about. She would spend hours and hours laying awake in bed at night just thinking about how it would be like if she had told him that she loved him all these time. She wasn't stupid. She knew that Ron has feelings for her. But why he hasn't said anything? Why is he so afraid? Is it the war? Is it that he still has feelings for Lavender? Or...
I tried to sleep, and I nodded off for a few hours, but it didn’t stick. I was tossing and turning. I was hot, and my various joints and muscles were aching me more than usual, or perhaps I was just more conscious of it than I usually am. In any case, I was tossing and turning. I was conscious, too, that this might be hurting Kelly’s quality of sleep. After an hour or so, I was wide awake, nervous, in pain, and feeling like a nuisance. I got up and went back to the downstairs bar. While we...
Hermione Teaches Ginny and Harry how to ShareRough flight to the BurrowThe butterbeers were helping to take the edge off, but tensions were still running high at the Burrow. Voldemort and his army of Death Eaters had struck the moment they took off from Harry’s c***dhood home, and the battle took a terrible toll. Mrs. Weasley had just stopped crying. Fleur was still pacing about. The rest were silent, still processing the loss of Moody. Mrs. Weasley hopped up from her armchair. “That’s enough....
Hermione had been stayed at the Burrow for the week before term started on her last year at Hogwarts. She was Head Girl this year and as a celebration, Ron and Ginny had invited her to stay with them until school started. Hermione was so excited and proud of herself that she Ginny had thought of a joke of a present to give Hermione for her becoming Head Girl. Hermione was sitting on Ginny's bead reading the 13 page pamphlet Head Boy and Girl called Maintaining Order and Administering Discipline...
Doing what she did to Percy not only made him feel good but made her feel good too. Not in the same way, she hadn’t been as aroused as she'd expected during the actual act, but in a different way. She had felt powerful, like he depended on her, needed her. It was intoxicating. As she lay in bed still in her school robes reliving every moment of her session with Percy she began to feel his spunk drying on her face. She thought she had wiped it all off but her face was now feeling crusty...
“You had better missy.” She jumped over the back of the couch, landed next Hermione, and grabbing her shoulders to look straight in her eyes, “because, I want ALL the details!” Hermione had thought Lavender would be mad, or feel as though she’d been cheated on but it appeared she couldn’t have been more mistaken. The look on her friend’s face was a mixture of impressed and giddy. Lavender wanted girl talk. Hermione had never had a girlfriend she could talk to about boys. I mean they’d...
Submissive whiteboi becomes a sissy faggot pussyboy for his nigger master.It was to be a night of romance. My Nigger lover, Tyrone, gruntedas he pulled his glistening cock from my aching, cum filled asscunt. Hehad just shot a massive load of man slop into my steamy, grippingentrails. Our lovemaking had been a brutal affair, as it always is, which is just the way I like it. I am a subjugated fuck slave, nothing but a sissy faggot sperm receptacle for my dominant nigger lover.Tyrone is the envy...
She even started taking notes in her diary and keeping them locked away in her trunk. She treated some of their sessions like lab experiments noting what worked, what didn't etc. Lavender seemed to like it a bit rougher than Hermione. She enjoyed being pinched, nibbled, scratched, and having Hermione pull on her hair while she ate her pussy. She had even asked Hermione to pretend to be a professor and spank her for doing something wrong. A fantasy Hermione enjoyed a bit more than she’d...
"Oh, fuck, sweetheart!" Hermione yelled in husky tones. "I don't know what I do to deserve you! That's it! Oh, that's it," she groaned, lovingly caressing Ron's ginger hair. "Keep bobbing your head up and down just like that. Tongue fuck my sweet, little, pussy like that. You love the way that dirty, sopping, twat tastes, don't you, honey? Fuck me! Deeper! Deeper, Ron! Shove it in deeper! Oh God, slurp that pussy and make me cream!"They were on a king size bed in the Room of Requirement, the...
The great thing about thongs was that you get a great ass in them, which was the reason why Hermione had begun wearing them during her fourth year, she was after all fifteen and going on sixteen in a matter of months. The bad thing about them was first of all it took time to get used to the feeling of the fabric between your cheeks and second of all you had to make sure they sat correctly or they would be ever so uncomfortable .Hermione stifled a yawn as she flushed the loo and began pulling up...
"Professor, aren't you supposed to show us first?" asked Hermione. "Well, that may be the case, but let's see what you can do." Hermione just shrugged her shoulders and went to the back of the classroom with the other students. They grabbed various books off of the shelves and were back at their tables. She just opened one up and found a sleeping potion that she hadn't made but looked simple enough to make. All was required was a bit of catnip, alcohol and some other ingredients. She...
Hermione arrived at Sydney’s Home and sat down in the den to have tea with her surrogate mum. Halfway through high tea, Sydney decided to broach the subject of Hermione’s visit. “The choice is quite simply yours. I can tell you that in my opinion from the bashful way you found the courage to voice your need for a ‘panties down’ or as those across the pond say, knickers’ for an authentic proper schoolgirl caning.” “I even brought the bottle-green knickers you requested.” Hermione spoke back...
????????????????????????? Persephone in Winter??????????????????????????? by Night Writer ??????????????????????????????? Prologue Elyse waited patiently by the open trunk of the car as the boy placedthe last bag of groceries inside. She found herself smiling, for noparticular reason.? The sun was warm on her face, and a slight breezeplayed with her hair, tickling her cheek, teasing her in and out of herdaydream. The soft knit of the light sweater fell away from the firm swell of...
Persephone Nine Chapter 1: Crash Story by All These Roadworks (2022). If you enjoy this story, please support its creation with the purchase of an e-book or membership from AllTheseRoadworks.com! (Click here to view the shop.) My kinks aren't my politics - I support respect, equity, and positive enthusiastic consent. (Check out more about my content policy here.) === The swathe of crushed alien vegetation was half a kilometre wide, and stretched all the way to the horizon. Here and there small...
“Sorry professor I was just-” she couldn’t think of a satisfactory excuse and just stared dumbly at the older woman awaiting her reprimand. “Well, have a seat Miss Granger so you will not hold us up any more. Glancing around the room she saw a chair open right behind Lavender and decided to sit there instead of her usual spot between Harry and Ron. She could smell Lavender’s hair and she liked it. She hadn't been able to stop thinking about the girl's breasts since all night. She'd...
"Akobabae lumaho," Hermione read quietly, carefully going over every syllable. It was just after dinner, but she was already in bed. Her curtains were drawn shut despite Gryffindor's girls dormitory being nearly empty. The witch's heart was beating at a maddening pace that threatened to rip a hole through her tee shirt. She struggled to control her breathing enough to allow her to repeat the words, but her thoughts were whirling out of control. A high-pitched, mad, sort of giggle escaped her...
She had approached Percy right after the first week of classes and he had agreed that private lessons with him would be an excellent way to keep her learning at an above average pace. In fact he had seemed a bit too pleased with himself just having her ask. He could be a bit big headed now and then but Hermione could not deny that he was currently the best student at Hogwarts and had a very bright future ahead of him because of his marks. She couldn’t think of anyone better to follow in...
THE HUSBAND, THE WIFE AND THE SCHOOLBOYSPart OneLet me explain. My name is Justin. I am a healthylooking 40-year-old married guy and in quite good shape. Not film star shape but I can still pull acompliment or two. I was lucky to marry an extremelypretty, little women called Carrie. She is still 30and we have been married for 10 years so you haveprobably guessed that she was 20 when we married. Iwas lucky, O.K? She has certainly stayed in shape andher slim body pert little upturned breasts and...
One way ticket by Elaine © 2017 (based on an original story idea by Petite Pierre.) This story was inspired after reading a rough google translation version of a story that was written in French by Petit Pierre. At first I did think about making a better more accurate translation but as I started it was easier to do a complete rewrite adding parts that hadn't previously existed and modifying other parts extensively. This new version is around 60% longer and is obviously no longer...
(All characters in this story are at least 18 years old) Hermione, Ginny and Luna where in the school's potion lab, the room was for students to make potions for extra credit, Hermione and her two friends where working on a new potion, this potion was going to be for woman who want to look younger as well as sexy'er then what they are now. "Are you sure this is the right color" asked Ginny who was stirring the potion, the potion was a light red. "yes, now stir it clockwise two more times, and i...
Things stayed very much the same for nearly two years. Simone and Kevin successfully kept their relationship secret from everyone except Monica. Brother and sister shared the same bed for a long time. Simone insisted they be more discreet as her first daughter became more aware of her surroundings. But even then, they put on a good show at home, they found plenty of opportunities to make love and they spent many nights together. Monica also joined them at least monthly for some very intense...
Atonement How a simple essay spawned a global movement Much has been made of man's inhumanity to man, but sadly, the notion of man's inhumanity to women has been under developed. This essay proposes to explore the methods men have used during the span of recorded history to control the minds, mold the bodies and silence the voices of women. This is not comprehensive, but does touch on some of the more insidious methods, as well as the obvious. With the woefully late...
"Where did your mind wander off to, Honey?" Simone's mother asked. "I don't know, Mom," Simone replied impatiently. "Now, what about Kevin? What did you say?" "You were in another world, Honey," her father added. "For crying out loud," Simone snapped. "I'm here now. I'm fine!" "Simone, relax," her mother said. Simone took a moment to collect herself. "I'm O.K., Mom. I'm just a little tired. I'm fine. Now, go on. You were saying ... about Kevin?" "I was talking...
As the reality that Kevin would actually be living with her hit Simone, she felt happier than she had in years. Her husband was not much more than a memory (outside the large child support checks that arrived each month), she her darling daughter and her loving brother in her home, and her brother's baby in her belly. Simone knew that most of the world would more than frown on the part involving her carrying her brother's baby, but she didn't care. Not only had Greg lost interest in...
She strolled down next to the lake to vent some steam by swimming. She laid her bags on the ground and hid them with an invisibility charm, so she would not be disturbed or teased. She kept her robes on so she could hide them in the water and placed the bubble head charm on herself and then dove into the water. It was cold, unseasonably so, but she quickly remedied that by using a warming charm on herself. She kicked fiercely through the water trying to get as far from land as possible,...
Those days I had quarreled with Victor about my new black slut condition. He finally yelled at me I could do whatever I wanted. It was perfect; I could fuck Tyrone every time I wanted… or when he wanted…Friday at early evening I got dressed. Then I looked in the mirror. A nice big black cock slut looked back. I wore false eyelashes and a heavy makeup.I had been shopping with my naughty girlfriend Maura; lots of underwear…I was now wearing a black lycra dress. It was split down the front, almost...
Kevin's question would be answered sooner than either he or Simone would have imagined. Later that evening, while the two were watching TV, Simone received a text message which read, "Good news. I'm here. Can you pick me up at the airport? I just landed. You know where I'll be. See you soon." Simone had wanted her husband home so badly. Two weeks before she would have jumped for joy at receiving his text. But things had changed significantly since then. Simone had admitted to her anger...
One of our strict rules is outer sex only, no intercourse with our third or fourth person, though that leaves a lot of options for mutual sexual pleasure. At the appointed time on Sunday Roger is wearing just a pair of jeans that showcases his tanned torso. I am wearing a short black silk blouse which barely covers my pubic area. It has a row of buttons down the back with only the top one fastened, so when I walk my naked arse is on full view, something Roger likes very much. “You really do...