PRIVATE SCHOOL HEAD REFUSES TO SUSPEND HEAD GIRL-SHAGGING TEACHER 

and such headlines almost made it to the papers.  It was time for a change.

The Staff Association had decided that enough was enough.  The Teachers were more than happy with the status quo.  They had lost confidence in That Lot Upstairs.  The teachers were going to their own Solicitor.

"Jan, I've been down and signed the Missive.  They need you to sign also on behalf of the teaching staff.  I'll bring up my copy to you at break to let you see it, if that's OK.  Dave Westaby has asked if you could nip over at lunchtime and sign."

"Yes, on both counts, Joss.  There are advantages to using the man across the road!  I'll see you at break.  Will you let Mr Westaby know that I'll be over at 12.15?"

"Yes, Jan, I'll give him a bell on the mobile and let him know.  Thank you, Bye."

Joss came into Jan Stater's classroom.  Recently Joss had changed his views  on his colleague, totally.  He'd seen her in years gone by as a non-academic lightweight. 

He didn't like her over-friendly, as he saw it, easy affability with the girls.  He was an unreconstructed male chauvenistic pig and proud of it.  The four men out of 60 teachers were, after all, in rather odd circumstances.

The four blokes gathered to bemoan their fate in the caretaker's room.  There they implemented their non- feminine sides and ate their sandwiches, made the night before. 

Joss Ditto had come across a School Management book from the 1950s which was taken as gospel.  On a poster was proudly displayed the quotation:  'Male staff need somewhere where they can break wind freely.  Ladies need somewhere to adjust their stockings.'

The quotation was placed next to a well- thumbed copy of the Aberdeen University Riding Club calendar which had attracted national acclaim.  The  month showing the nineteen-year old filly with the perfect ass, that one where, standing at the fence, she looks over her shoulder to check her thong, seemed particularly well visited.   

Joss Ditto got excellent examination results, and that really mattered here, the old fashioned way, First Class Honours, leather arm patches and all.  Acadaemia was all that he had in mind in a school full of girls wasn't it? 

Joss had, of course totally underestimated Jan Stater's ability.  She was a natural, born teacher. 

He'd watched, and learned, as she had transformed exam results, increased pupil take-up massively, won the hearts of girls, parents and colleagues. 

She'd stunned her provincial-type, petty West- End private school colleagues with her power over the School Inspectors who detected her real pedagogic skill the minute they saw her teach.

The Inspectors had been quick to draw the run of three Headmistress's attention to Jan's importance to the school in developing the limited teaching skill of her very traditional colleagues and modernising the academic-only curriculum.

The Inspectorate saw her as the next Deputy Head, even Headmistress.  They were fully aware of the school's previous difficulties with unsuitable Heads.  They'd asked the current Head to raise the possibility with the Governors, aware of her imminent retiral.    

That Jan Stater was so well versed and proactive went down very well with officials.  She was very future-wise.

Joss had said to Jan that he was impressed by her confidence and insight in the troubled times they were in.  Joss had balls, no doubt, but Jan had nouse. 

She was also fighting for her job.  She'd been advised on the grapevine that her, then, part- time job could be at risk due to her high profile in what was seen by some as Staff rebellion.

Jan was planning to divorce and remarry into wealth, with a little help from her staffroom chums and some introductions to the dinner tables of Aberdeen's West End chatterers. 

After having dropped three kids, Jan Stater was endowed with the Mersey Tunnel down there, but no matter. She intended to cock-suck her way into monied clover. 

There weren't that many lady teachers who would fellate for an hour, or more, easy, all the way to completion, and who enjoyed every minute of it, were there?  What if she became Head? 

What would be on her office nameplate?  Head of School?  Head of Head? Head Mistress?  Mistress of Head?

Once she'd been in a long session with Hubby.  He always set the scene for her.  Sometimes she would ask, "Who am I with?"  It was agreed that she could be with anybody she chose, preferably people that they both knew. 

Jan only rarely came clean on her secret contemplations but often the thinking and the action was directed at The Colonel from the school. She had let it be known that she believed him to be equipped with her dream 10 inches.  Hubby never asked her why she thought this.

During that particularly extended, kicked- off- at- 11.30, still- going-strong-at- 2 am, session Jan was being serviced by The Colonel and they were being observed by one of the school's unmarried former Heads.

Jan had wanked, sucked, licked and carressed her military amour's manhood for ninety minutes, continuous. She was in cock-infatuation mode and wouldn't let go.  When she was like that she would keep taking the manhood out, holding it in front of her face, sighing her admiration for the fine specimen pleasuring her, big-smiled.  

As the Colonel brought her finally to climax after two and a half hours of creative stimulation, never once detecting any dryness, the former Head got off her chair and kneeled over Jan at the fanny.  As The Colonel fucked her mouth and she went into meltdown Jan felt the ex Head put her fingers ever so gently into her crack.

Jan came in seconds, gasping, squeezing her thighs tight, finally opening her legs wide and taking them back, knees folded, the better for the former Head to enjoy the view.

Jan Stater, beyond expectation!

When one of the Heads left she'd let it be known that there were two staff that she wished she could take with her:  Jan stater and The Colonel.  Jan had asked Hubby, "Why me?"

Hubby had replied, "Because she recognises your superior teaching skill and experience, compared with your provincial colleagues, and because she fancies you and wants in your knickers."

Jan did not argue with either of these two observations.  Her eyes flashed behind themselves, though.      

She'd be making her move as soon as she'd built her subject area  into a full-time, mainstream subject and timetable.  She needed the job, the money and the independence.  Working at the Comp down the road till 65 did not appeal.

Joss smiled at her, warmly.  "Hi, Jan."

"Hi, Joss.  How's life treating you?" Jan smiled her big smile.

"Of, fair to middling...you know..."

"Jan, here's the document.  I got Suzette Bingham to photocopy it for you.  I'd like to know what you think.  Will it do?"

Jan skim-read the five line terseness of the Missive of Intent. 

"Joss, it seems exactly right.  Non- confrontational and sincere.  I think it captures the staff concerns exactly.  I have no difficulty with signing that.  You've done well, Joss, for us all."  

"I think you know that a lot of the staff are terrified at what we are about to do.  You and I have to stick together, to stand fast..."  Jan's eyes settled on her little school badge on her jacket lapel, hanging on her chair back.

Jan could see Joss nodding. She could also see him staring straight down her blouse.  She'd forgotten herself and leaned over her desk to read the Missive. 

She was standing right opposite Joss who wasn't too old to enjoy a view of pretty titties down blouses.  Perk of the job, for the male staff, some might say.

Jan's 36cs were hanging over the lace cups of her underwired,  smooth, thin, smoked-black tiny bra.  Her cleavage was not bad. She looked good down there and was showing off quite a lot.

Jan smiled her smile at Joss.  She liked the fact that he had warmed to her.  A little bit of flirting never did a girl any harm, did it?

"Oh...sorry...I'm showing myself off!"

Jan giggled and  placed  her flat hand in front of her exposed breasts, coy. She nipped her lower lip with her top teeth.

There was something else. Jan Stater's fanny was soaking.

Jan knew that she would have to go and see her doctor. Since she'd been fourteen she'd suffered from Polycystic Ovary Syndrome. 

Her periods had started, then stopped.  She'd been put on the contraceptive pill to stabilise things.  Quite an experience for a fourteen year old, quiet country lass, in the seventies, with elderly parents.  She'd needed fertility drugs to fall pregnant. She'd been ambulanced away when cysts broke off.

Jan grew to like sex, to like it a lot. Now at 45, three kids down the line she was uncontrollably randy.  Since their teens at University, Jan and Hubby had shagged each other wildly and all the time from John o' Groats to Roma and all points in between. 

As Jan had told him when she was being fucked from midnight to 3am, when she was about 43, after she'd finished her marking,  "We've done everything to each other, haven't we...except for that one thing...and we're not doing that!." 

Hubby nodded and just got on with shagging her for about the fifth time that night.  He didn't say to her that as a Northern Scot he had no desire whatsoever to stick it up her ass, if that's what she was after.  She never referred to "that" again.

Even now that she had gone off him, was talking about him with her chums and was planning to replace him, she still needed to be serviced by Hubby:OFTEN.

More and more, though, recently, she'd been mind-straying to other men, yearning for sex with male colleagues, cyclists, strangers, neighbours, her colleagues' husbands. 

She'd also been reigning in a growing interest in women and girls.  She'd been trying to force these thoughts to the back of her mind but was struggling.

Men were responding to her flirting.  Three builders had been next to her in a lorry in the morning traffic queues.  She'd made eye contact.  They were looking down at her, gesturing, asking her for some fun. 

She'd found herself smiling at them.  Her short skirt was showing nice thigh.  Her blouse was thin, her bra lacey.  As the game continued while the traffic crept along, Jan opened her legs a little, driving the men wild. 

She tucked her blouse tight into her skirt waistband, she put on sun specs, she checked her make-up in the interior mirror, pouting.  She was running with juice and wanted to climb into the lorry and to go with the three of them.

When she got back from work that night she dived into bed with Hubby the minute she got through the door,  told him of her adventure and took the shag, mind on the three, powerful, tanned, muscular, rough,tatooed Aberdeen builders. 

She'd come with the driver prodding her with a massive cock surrounded by jet black hair.  She was in the passenger seat of the lorry, legs spread, feet on the dashboard.   

He was filling her with a river of semen.  His mates had already inseminated her to overflowing and it was running down her inner thighs, soaking her ass and crease.  Wonderful thought!

Men seemed interested in her face- to- face too.  Was it her being in her sexual prime, or was she giving off pheromones that men couldn't resist,  pulling the men with pure, animal sex?

Jan knew that POS and the looming menopause could saturate her with testosterone.  Was that where all the drive, confidence and pure lust for different men was coming from?

Jan was soaking her little black knickers at the thought of Joss getting a view and wanting the view.  She'd have to escape before the pheromones got to him.

"Joss, time for a cuppa?  Shall we dash up to the staffroom and wet the whistle?"

"Good idea, Jan.  After you."

Joss held the door open for his lady colleague in arms.  They smiled at each other.

"Mr Westaby will see you directly, Mrs Stater.  Will you please take a seat for a moment?  Thank you."

The office door opened and a tall, dark, handsome 40 year old emerged.  He was immaculate in double-breasted blue suit, silk shirt and tie.  Jan had heard he was a bit of a stunner and he was!  He had a neat little tache, carefully trimmed.  Jan liked that!

"Mrs Stater.  Thank you for coming across."

They shook hands and as he gripped Jan's tiny hand firmly and powerfully, Jan Stater wilted.  Her little problem had returned.  Her fanny was running with lust.  Her pheromones were flying.

Jan was shown to her seat in front of the Solicitor's desk.  He, of course, was seated opposite.

"Mrs Stater, Mr Ditto has said that you've seen the Missive and that you are prepared to sign on behalf of the Teaching Staff.  Is this the case?" 

"Definitely.  You've got the issues identified and clearly presented.  The document is exactly what's needed."

"In that case our Sheriff Officer will serve papers by hand this afternoon.  Can I ask you to append your signature," he stood up and proffered the document , "Just here?"

He was pointing at the signature line with a strong, manly, well-manicured finger.  Jan could see dark hairs covering the back of his hand and wrist.  She looked up and could see black chest hair curling over the shirt at the collar.  He was fragranced beautifully.

Jan made her move.  She couldn't help herself.

She pretended to be unsure.  She stood up and leaned over, check-reading the document, running her finger over the lines of type. Of course she had to lean well over to do this. She made as if to read the five lines of script twice.

He should have seen plenty by now.  Jan felt her hard nipples poking at the bra cups.  Her bras were all transparent and erect nipples would show, this she knew.

Jan looked up and smiled her smile.  RESULT!  Her legal eagle was staring straight down the blouse at the pretty titties on show. 

Same as Joss Ditto.  Men!  All the same!  Show them your tits and turn them to Jelly! Well, temporary jelly, hopefully!

Jan nipped her lower lip with her top teeth, tilted her head a little to the side.

"Do I sign here, on this line?"

Her legal man was actually blushing as he nodded confirmation.

Jan signed the document.  "There, job done!"

"Oh..."  Jan looked up, "...sorry...I'm showing myself off."

She did an 'I mean these two knockers down below' gesture with her eyes. She'd moved her head from left tit to right tit when indicating.  Jan put the pen down

"You've got a hard-on!"

She pointed at the solicitor's cock with her finger.  She smiled her big smile.  She had kept her finger poised in the air.  She made a rising-up motion with the finger and grinned her grin.

He made no attempt at denial.  Jan took off her jacket, the one with the little school badge on the lapel.  She unbuttoned her blouse and pulled the blouse tails out of her skirt.

"Want some?"

"Off a lady teacher at a private girls' school?  Yes please!"

She moved the chair a bit to the side and placed one foot on it.  She was wearing a short skirt which she pulled up her leg, showing of stocking top and inner thigh.  The  bottom of her knicker leg was showing, gripping at her thigh flesh.

All the women teachers at the school were into lace-top holdups.  In the staffroom, when they were nattering,  they'd show each other the stocking tops, comparing.  They also compared knickers and bras, apparently.  They all knew how to control their men.

The staffroom gossips were busy one afternoon in summer.  Jan never gossiped, exactly, but she was a good listener.  If the subject was sex she could be counted upon to become one of the girls.

Vera Truncheon, one of the Technicians who was described by Jan to Hubby as  "A vicious bitch who has forgotten her place!" was moaning.

"So, for about the sixth day running I come into my reserved parking space right by the front steps to find one of the parents, Major, Bloody, Swithin- Fotheringam parked in my space yet again." 

"Honest! These parents get my goat sometimes.  They don't realise that I've got to collect the lab samples first thing.  No consideration!  Just because he owns half of Donside doesn't give him the right to steal my parking space."

Everyone commiserated with with the doleful Vera, hoping that she would go soon.

As soon as the coast was clear, gossip-in chief Glenda  Chargehand seized the moment.

"She obviously doesn't know about                            Major Swithin-Fotheringham (Dragoons and Royals) Retd."

Jan asked, " What about The Major, Glenda?"

"Well, Jan a certain 24 year old member of our 'Ladies with Lingerie' club, one equipped with the biggest breasts, longest legs, shortest skirts, tiniest thongs, tightest little cheeks and highest heels in The Nunnery, goes up the stairs to the front door at 08.25, sharp as a petticoat needle, every day."

"At 08.24, precisely, The Major, parked in Vicious Vera's parking space by the steps, exits his 'G' reg, rusting Volvo estate and makes an urgent phone call on his mobile. For this he has to stand right at the bottom of the stairs, so as to get a good signal."

"At 08.25 + 10 seconds, the long-legged lady teacher pauses to smell the fresh flowers in the vestibule.  This, of course involves our young colleague bending over, mini-skirted, stockinged and thonged.  'Lingeried-up', you might say."

"The Major, by now smiling, finishes his phone call at 08.25 + 20 seconds, just as she goes through the main door.  He then immediately drives away.  It is safe to conclude that The Major is an admirer of the thong as displayed by our young lingerie model and club member."

Jan and the gang giggled and gave a little clap.

It was up to Jan, as usual to cut to the chase.  "Ladies, this is a private school for girls.  There has to be some accommodation of the males of the species."  

"We all know not to bend over too far, short-skirted, in the vestibule, unless, of course we're in the mood and we want to show off!  Half of Aberdeen knows that you can see knicker-flash from the pavement." 

"The lads from next door, apparently, capture the moments on their phones.  They got me once with my red knickers on!  I found a copy of the photie under my windscreen wiper!  The buggers had enhanced the image and had my ass crease in full focus!  It is my belief that allowing The Major his little thrill is all part of our service, don't you think?"  

"We all know the dads who look forward to Parents' Evenings, after all!  I've watched that Mr Van Wertinger position his seat to look upskirt every time he moves tables. I'm sure his wife knows he's doing it."

"Those of us who are no longer monotonously monogamous can play little games, you see.  One 1VS Parents' Evening I was going round to screw The Colonel on the way home.  I'd told Hubby I'd stop off at the gym for some exercise.  I'd put on my best black sheers and dark stockings."

"I knew that Mr Van Wertinger was looking at me under the table."

"What did you do Jan?"

"I smiled my smile at him and splayed my legs, only for a moment, and then put my knees together.  Of course, I just happened to cross my legs a few moments later."

"What did he do?"

"Start fiddling with his collar, literally.  I never got another word out of him!  I'm sure he'd got a stiffie when he stood up.  His wife seemed a bit awkward, too.  I think she knew what was going on."

"Jan, you are a dark horse, aren't you...Nobody would guess at half of what you get up to..."

"...Just committed to providing a full service for Friends of the School..."

"I told The Colonel about in when I went in to get shagged.  I'd to keep taking his dick out and squeezing it at the frenulum with my fingers to stop him from coming before I wanted...They all like the idea of someone else being interested in the fanny they're stuffing, don't they, especially these ex-military sorts... You know, The Colonel keeps asking me what Hubby does to me when he's taking his conjugals..."

"Anyway, where was I?  Oh, yes.  What this means, in short, is that it is good to be fuckbuddies for those males who stray into our domain." 

The girls decided that Jan, as always, was exactly right. They agreed not to tell their size 22+ colleagues about this, though.  Vicious Vera, of course, was also not to know.   

Jan was definitely part of the lingerie gang and she was always impressively turned out in the underwear department.  Part of getting ready for School involved thorough selection and planning of tiny garments.  Hubby would be treated to knickers on, knickers off, thong on, thong off, lace- body on, lace- body off most mornings. 

Once she had attended a meeting with the School Manager knickerless (She'd taken the knickers off in the Ladies' bathroom on the way to the meeting.  There were no 'toilets' in this private Girls' school.) 

She'd texted Hubby 'Option Two' to say she was ready to play and that she was suitably dressed. Option One was to wear a tiny thong.  Option two was going commando.   

When she was in the meeting  she'd crossed her stockinged legs as she sat with The Colonel at his coffee table, knickers not required. Great feeling for a girl!  She told Hubby that it wasn't a Sharon Stone, exactly, but how would Hubby know? 

She'd prepared this little adventure with Hubby and drove straight home afterwards to get fucked the minute she got through the door and had her skirt lifted.  Hubby had said to her, as he spread her legs and mounted her on the hall carpet, he'd never felt her so wet, and that was saying something.

She was stuffed there and then and of course had a long rerun of her game with The Colonel later that night.  She definitely had a smile on her face from that one.  

Today, with the Solicitor, she knew she looked good in the black stockings and the little black-dotted lace knickers, very sexy for a real man.  She'd got the dotted pattern on the see-through, underwired bra too. 

She'd seen "Heat" on late night Free to View and had been tickled pink to see the fifty something 'resting' actress had on virtually the same transparent sex-wear when she shagged her young blood.  The only difference was that Jan's were a lot smaller.  That's progress for you.   50+ Nipples and ass, eh?  You could do worse. 

Nothing was said.  The legal beagle walked behind her, moved her off the chair and pushed it to one side. He worked at her from behind.  He reached round and pulled Jan's tits out of the bra. 

He lowered his zip and pulled out a good seven, hard inches. PERFECT. Not too big and certainly not too small. 

Jan had to look over her shoulder to take in what she was getting.  She was working the cock in reverse, pushing at the hardness, shoving the skin back, thin.

He rolled her skirt up around her waist.  Jan felt her tits being taken, one handed.  She felt her nipples growing.  The other hand was working her fanny up the side of her sheer-backed, black-dotted knickers.  She was absolutely soaking. 

Jan was that little, at 4'11, that he got his hand under her, between her legs, to get at the thick, springy triangle.  She felt his hairy forearm rubbing against her crack.  Fabulous!

Jan reached behind and pulled at the cock.  It was solid, heavy, hot to touch, ready for action. She helped it on its way by rolling the skin back off the head.

Jan found herself being pushed, gently, face down on the desk. Her knickers were lifted aside, stretched thin, pulled into her crack.  Fingers stroked and probed, gently. 

She knew that he was looking at her, studying her open, willing flash, noting the dark brown of her brush, admiring the huge size of her very pink inner lips, staring at what she was giving, taking in her good, solid, womanly rear.

She wasn't a model, nothing like, but she was certainly worth fucking: particularly with the wetness that came to her so easily.

"Oh, my God..."  she said, whispering.

Jan Stater's favourite was about to happen.

As she lay, face down on the desk, her legs were spread to their widest and seven inches of solid cock pushed past the knickers and went right up her in one, straight through her soaking, soft, accomodating entrance.  

When she was mounted from behind, men had told her they loved the way her labia sat so visibly over their cocks and, on cue, she heard him whispering,  "God, those lips are massive!" 

Hubby, she knew, had always liked the contrast between the pink and the purple, often hovering with her lips just gripping him and no more.

She was given about thirty good, steady, full length probes.  She was bursting with lust and was ready to come in seconds.  She held herself back, waiting for the shot which she knew would be coming soon. 

His breathing speeded up and he twitched his shot up her, warm drops going in high up the fanny, cock dipped in her up to the hilt.

Jan gave in to her swoon-making desire and climaxed there and then.  She shook four times as the pleasure coursed through her, groaning through clenched teeth.

He put her tits back in her bra.  He pulled himself out and helped her stand up.  She sorted her knickers mopping up the running semen with the crotch pad, lowered her skirt, did up the buttons and tucked in her blouse. 

She put her jacket back on.

"Wow!"

"Was I alright?"

"You were great!  Beyond sexpectation!"

They both giggled and sat down to regain composure.

"Mrs Stater, or should I say 'Jan'?  I wonder if we might meet tomorrow to go over one or two areas in detail?"

"Mr Westaby, or should I say 'Dave'?  That will be fine.  I have to do a Fourth Year parental feedback session for 1VS on our  "Future Ways" programme at 5.30."  

"I've been put in charge of sex education, would you believe?  I've to be reassuring to the old fashioned amongst the parents...You know, respectable, married woman with teenage children, stable family life...the Governors like that kind of thing." 

"I lecture the Girls on using condoms, which I absolutely hate and never use, and on feeling able to 'Say No'.  I don't know who the bigger hypocrite is, me, or all the non-virgins looking back at me with soft smiles on!  You should see some of them down The Town on Saturday nights!" 

"Yesterday I ordered a new range of dildos for the condom demos.  Do you know what I did?  I haven't told anybody, yet, not even The Gang.  I ordered a black 11 incher with 9 inch girth!   That should add a certain sparkle to the lesson, don't you think?  No more cucumbers or bananas to go soft and wilt..."

"We've got an eighty year old retired surgeon doing Health Ed.  He's getting the chop.  I'm going to get the Gynie Wifie over from Rubisblaw Place.  She does a good line in short power skirts and deep cleavage." 

Jan giggled and nipped her lower lip with her top teeth.  "I could come across at, say, 6.15.  Would you be available?"

"I certainly will.  6.15 it is then."

He winked at her and she grinned her grin. He buzzed his secretary.

"Wendy, we've finished in here.  Could you please show Mrs Stater out?  Thank you, Wendy"

Jan was escorted to the door with the greatest of courtesy.  As she left, Jan noticed a silver BMW Roadster on the parking space. 'A9 DHW'.

"That's promising!" she said to herself.

"How did you get on, Jan?"

"I have signed. He is really impressive, Joss.  I felt I was in a good pair of hands."

"Them Upstairs will receive the Missive by hand of Sheriff Officer, this afternoon, then...I suspect you and I will be seeing a lot more of Mr Westaby, Jan."

"I think you're right there, Joss."