If I Told Her to Take Her Clothes Off, She Just Would
Chapter 20

Copyright© 2015 by Daydreamz

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 20 - Natural victim Faye Perkins comes to my attention with being bullied. At thirty I'm developing more authority as a teacher, so I step in. She's not used to people paying attention to her, however, and she's remarkably suggestible anyway...

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/ft   ft/ft   Mult   Consensual   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Fiction   School   Orgy   First   Teacher/Student  

“Do you think she could do drums?” I suggested quietly to Alice the next morning, lying in bed stroking her smooth, firm ass while Faye was in the shower.

“I was thinking the same thing,” murmured Alice, reaching over to stroke my ass with her sensual, long fingers, “just ... how to find out?”

“Yes, we mustn’t set her up for a fail.”

“It’d kill her if she started and we replaced her. I mean, even if she could do it a bit, for us now, you know ... Kimie and Senz are seriously good - we could be needing a real proper drummer.”

Before we could decide anything Faye finished her shower and came back in. But while we were having breakfast it came to me.

“I think I might have a stab at a bit of drumming,” I announced. “Not seriously, for the Bi Band, but just for a bit of fun, to play around on. There’s space in the dungeon isn’t there? I’ll just pick up a cheap kit on eBay or something.”

Faye took a small breath.

“Oh sure,” Alice agreed, “I wouldn’t mind a go myself. I mean Dave Grohl can. I think ‘Bi Band’ is a bit obvious though, don’t you think Faye?”

“Oh. The name ... I don’t know. It could be something to do with bad?”

“Or dungeon, or bikes?” I mused.

“We could turn up to gigs on bikes,” said Alice. “Senz is learning.”

“That would be newsworthy,” I nodded. “When is she eighteen?”

“Not till the year after next. But she could still ride a nine hundred or whatever and get busted. She’d just get a fine, if she got caught at all, and points or a ban. And it would be bad.”

“Hot sixteen-year-old bassist caught illegally riding a big bike to a rock gig. Photo of her and Faye astride it in leather minis. That shouldn’t be too hard to get media interest in.” I was slipping into manager mode quite easily.

“Haha,” Alice chortled, “we’re going to be big, I can feel it. And don’t forget: ‘hot bi’ bassist.”

“Okay. When are the others coming back?” I asked.

“This afternoon.”

I could see Faye was still feeling a bit left out. “Shall we go to the dogs’ home then?” I suggested. “I think they’re open this morning.”

“Oh YES!” Her face lit up. “I can’t wait for us to have a dog. Dogs.”

“I’ll stay and practice,” said Alice. “I can’t think about anything else, anyway, and I trust you to choose, and you’ll need space in your trolley.”

So by ten Faye and I were walking past kennels of dogs. Faye was oohing and aahhing at every one.

“We need two that aren’t scared of noises,” I told the kind woman showing us round.

“Well...” she sounded doubtful, “there are some older dogs, if you don’t mind an older dog. They’re black too, and rather large.”

“We’ve got plenty of space, haven’t we,” said Faye, “but why does black make a difference?”

“I don’t know, people don’t want them,” the woman replied sadly, “old black dogs always hang around.”

“Oh that’s not fair,” Faye was instantly on their side, “can we see them?”

We walked along to where two tall black dogs were in a kennel together. They had long greying muzzles, and came to greet Faye as she crouched down in front of the wire making kissing noises at them and saying hello and weren’t they tall and gorgeous.

“He’s a Saluki cross,” said the woman, “and she’s Greyhound cross. Who knows what with. They’re lurchers. Very affectionate as long as you’re not a cat or a rabbit,” she smiled.

“How long have you had them?” I asked.

“Bruno’s been with us for a couple of years,” the woman said, “and Hannah a few months.”

“Two years?” gasped Faye, “In this little cage?”

“Well they go out twice a day. They’re the ones who’ve been here longest. Everybody wants a young dog, unfortunately, and something smaller and brown or white.”

“Oh. Still ... Can I go in?” The woman opened the door and in a moment Faye had an arm round each dog’s chest while they leaned into her, wagging.

“You think they’re okay with sudden loud noises?” I asked. “Like fireworks?”

 
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