Summer was nearly over, and the return to studying was imminent. Barbara and I would be heading to university. We both achieved good grades in our exams. We had set ourselves a challenge this summer. Barbara has just told me her story from last night. What a clever, naughty, bold minx she is.
She went to pay a call on Mr. Bell, wearing her school uniform; okay, nearly wearing it. Her tits were showing, her bum was showing, and her fanny only had a tiny piece of lace covering it. It hadn’t stayed hidden long. She had been naked except for her school tie and white socks. Wow! Barbara, bet you looked hot! She had played the naive schoolgirl perfectly and had tempted and teased brilliantly.
We had both loved every second of our antics. I had been stripped, fingered, and spanked by those upstanding pillars of our community, under the guise of great propriety, chastisement for being naughty, spanking with fervent fingering being the proper administration! Yeah, right!!!
However, Barbara had been naked, fingered, and fucked, so I guess it was my turn to up the ante.
No one was home, and after our conversation, I was feeling really horny. This was my day off, but I decided to go into work at the local Garden Centre, and just pretend I was late.
When I arrived at the Garden Centre, Mr. Smith was not in the greenhouse. He only went there when a certain sweet 16-year-old with big tits was there. He was in the gift shop, under the scrutiny of his eagle-eyed wife.
“Good Morning Mr. and Mrs. Smith. I am sorry I am late. I have been studying and preparing my Biology presentation for University.”
Mrs. Smith nodded her approval of my demure simpering, while he stood, sweating and getting redder in the face by the minute. He knew it was my day off.
“May I go to the greenhouse to take some photographs for my assignment?”
“Why certainly, and you have just reminded me that Mr. Smith is giving a lecture on his plants to his select friends this evening at their club. Perhaps you and a friend could assist with refreshments, non-alcoholic, of course. I’m sure your parents will consent.”
The expression on his face was priceless. I’m pretty sure his “lecture” was watching porn and wanking off. He, of course, agreed enthusiastically. This was excellent. I had no clue how Barbara and I could top our frolics, but here was our chance.
The heat and humidity struck me as I entered the greenhouse, and at the same time, I heard the key turn. I started to tingle. I was wearing the bib dungarees and shirt with sexy, no, that’s the wrong adjective, sizzling, underwear beneath.
I knew exactly what would happen next. When it comes to sexually repressed men faced with a big-titted “gullible ” 16-year-old, and the chance of a swatch, a feel, and maybe a fuck, then it’s obvious.
“Oh my dear, you must be very warm in those clothes. You should remove them.”
An idea came to me…
“Mr. Smith, perhaps it would be a good plan to use some visual aids for your presentation tonight. You could photograph me holding the various specimens, and then you could talk about them.”
He hesitated and then agreed. He had not cottoned on to my plan. He selected a plant which I posed demurely with in my full uniform. Before he took the next shot, I said, “You are right, it is so hot, I will loosen the bib.”
The bib was unfastened, along with most of the shirt buttons. My large firm, teenage breasts were very much on display.
Click, click, went the camera.
Now he was getting the picture in more ways than one. The next plant was produced. This time, I removed the dungarees and opened the shirt completely. There was a sharp intake of breath. My boobs were now in full view, in a purple shelf bra which pushed them upwards with the prominent, aroused nipples and areola uncovered.
The bra was matched with a crotchless thong, which had a crisscross open front revealing my fanny, which was glistening and moist.
Click, click, again with the words, “Remove your shirt, turn round, bend down. “Of course, I obliged.
Naturally, he zoomed in on my tits and fanny and suggested I remove the final vestiges of clothing. By this time, the plants had been forgotten. I posed on the work table as if I had been doing this all my life. Lying on my back, arms stretched above me, knees up and open, then the suggestion that I open up my lips to expose my hidden delights, highlighting my now pulsing clit.
“A little wider, my dear, rub a little harder, turnaround, spread those pretty cheeks, let that sweet little star-shaped hole be seen. Perfect!”
By now, I needed “tending to”.
The contrite, naughty girl appeared again. “Oh, Mr. Smith, I have been naughty once more. I forgot to hold the plants in some of the pictures. Now they can’t be used. Shall I ask Mummy and Daddy to chastise me?”
“Do not worry about it, we will use all the photographs, the setting and the plants will be in all of them. That is the main focus of the event. Perhaps, it would be best if I punished you. Your parents might not let you attend the lecture tonight.”
He set the camera on a ledge so that it would film the procedure.
Naturally, I agreed, and I bent over a stool, offering my bare bottom to be spanked in his own inimitable way. One hand would spank my cheeks, while the other plunged inside my soaking fanny. Then the spanking stopped. My bottom tingled wonderfully. He spread my cheeks to get a close-up view of that sweet little star-shaped hole. He turned me round and proceeded to suck my tits and finger me vigorously. Was this the time to let him fuck me? I was nearly out of control. No. I wanted an audience. I could wait a little longer. He would have to settle for the pics and the spanking and fingering clip.
I hurriedly dressed as I explained to him I would need to make arrangements with my friend to attend his Lecture, or should that be Letcher???
I left my camera with him in order for him to organise the” visual aids”. I hadn’t looked at them. That would add to this evening’s thrill. I asked him what my friend and I should wear. I was not surprised when he said a school uniform is appropriate for such a serious evening of study. Hmmm… depends on what you are studying.
Barbara was thrilled when I told her what had happened and what was happening tonight. I never doubted her involvement. My parents, of course, approved of my studious evening with Mr. Smith and his distinguished friends. Barbara’s parents were going out for the evening, so we got ready there.
She wore pale purple underwear, and I wore black.
Our white school shirts from two years ago were found. Really tight, top buttons unfastened, teenage tits straining the material. Our red school ties completed the top half. Our skirts were indecently short, our bums clearly visible, but demure, well, sort of demure because although our cheeks were totally naked, we were wearing thongs, so our fannies were partially hidden.
We also wore white socks complete with sky-high heels.
Suitably dressed, or undressed, we put on our school coats and headed for the private members’ club which was nearby. There were various expensive cars already in the car park in the secluded grounds. As we approached the entrance, we were surprised to see security. We gave our names, and after a VERY thorough and thrilling frisking, we gained access. Mr. Smith greeted us both warmly, bidding the two security men to take our coats.
His hungry eyes feasted on our skimpy uniforms and our very obvious attributes. He ushered us into a lounge area, dimly lit, filled with expensive cigar smoke, and the tang of select brandy and Scotch.
“Gentlemen, Miriam and Barbara are our charming and willing hostesses for this evening. Tonight’s lecture involves something that was not on the agenda. I am sure you will not be disappointed. There is still a botanical theme to the event, but also a biological angle, which I’m sure you will find most stimulating. Especially the finale, which depicts how nature deals with errors or mistakes. Before that, however, these young ladies will happily pour your drinks, and you can get to know them better.”
There were muffled murmurs of approval. I noticed there was a large screen on the wall, sexy music was playing quietly, and the screen came to life. Yep, I had been right, a porn film was playing, the volume very low. I looked at the assembled group. I did not recognise any of them. They were older, but not ancient, and obviously very wealthy and well used to private entertainment. However, they were very interested in Barbara and me. We were not what they were expecting, and it was clear that they approved.
Initially, we poured drinks, bending over in a discreet way, but making sure they got an eyeful. There were numerous “accidental“ contacts and touches. Then I was invited to sit on the knee of a man who certainly seemed to be the most important, perhaps the boss. Barbara, too, was sitting, but on a high stool. I smiled. She looked so demure, but her legs were open, and three of her buttons were undone. She was chatting away in a silly schoolgirl voice, and the men were mesmerised. Meanwhile, the boss was paying close attention to me, engaging me in conversation. I pretended not to notice his hand sliding up my inner thigh, past my white socks. This was so naughty and thrilling, and then he reached my black thong. His fingers pushed the material aside, and his fingers started circling my clit. My skirt was bunched around my waist, and I was in full view.
While some of the men were watching Barbara, about six others were sitting back in their comfy armchairs, brandy glass in one hand, cigar in the other. Through the smoke, they were watching closely, the clever hands now pulled my thong down to just above my knees. They could all see my fanny being opened and teased. How I loved the feeling of power. I could see Mr. Bell and Mr. Smith standing and watching proudly, very pleased with their entertainment. Somehow, the buttons of my shirt had opened, and my large breasts were out. In a skillful move, the black bra was off and lying on the floor. Now my shirt was open, and my nipples were being pinched and teased. I know the men were taken aback at the size of my breasts, the clear view of my not-so-hidden treasures, and my shaved fanny. Just then, Mr. Smith made an announcement:
“Gentlemen, our main feature, our Lecture for the evening, will now start. Miriam and Barbara will ensure your glasses are full.”
I moved off the Boss’s knee, my thong slipped to the ground, and I stepped out of it. It lay beside my discarded bra. I joined Barbara pouring drinks and turned to the screen.
The main attraction was me in a slide show accompanied by suitable music. Mr. Smith had been busy. I have to say it was as erotic as fuck and really, really, good. He’s done this before! Talk about up close and personal! Very explicit. The camera was practically as far in as Mr. Smith’s greedy fingers. My folds were glistening and moist, begging to be entered. Barbara grinned. “Are you sure you want to go to Uni? You are a natural.”
The finale was, of course, the clip of the spanking.
The slaps and enthusiastic grunts added to the sound effects, and the close-ups of my pink cheeks were very arousing to the audience. There was a round of applause. The lights came on again, but we were still dim. The Boss was smiling. He motioned me to come and join him. I tingled and thought, “This is it. Fuck time at last.“ Just shows how naive I am. Yes, he didn’t mind others watching him undress me, and finger and fondle me while they envied him.
He was never going to drop his kegs and get his dick out and perform on the floor of the Club. Instead, he said. “We both know what should happen next, but regrettably, it won’t.” he handed me a sealed envelope. Kissed me and left. The others left too.
I turned forlornly. I assumed it was payment for my performance. I didn’t want it. Barbara was fully dressed in her coat and was holding mine for me.
What an anti-climax! No fuck for me. Mr. Smith and Mr. Bell waited at the door and ridiculously thanked us for our presence.
Our challenge for the summer was over. But I felt empty. Barbara gave me a hug.
“That was fun, and now we have Uni to look forward to, with a hell of a lot more experience than most!”
She had been presented with numerous £20 notes, placed inside her bra and thong. She had returned them all. This was not about making money. As we walked home, I remembered the envelope and made to throw it into the nearest bin. Barbara stopped me, “Open it. Let’s see how much he paid for your company.”
Reluctantly, I agreed. There was no money.
A card with the name of a very exclusive hotel was inside. On the back was a suite number, tomorrow’s date, and the time of 7 pm. It was signed: Doctor Oliver Martin.
Where had I heard that name before?
Then it came to me. He was the head of the Faculty of my chosen course at the University of Dumfries.
Perhaps my summer was not an anti-climax after all.
Autumn was looking even more promising!!
