Chapter 2: Invaded

So I was on tenterhooks all morning, waiting to be summoned to the storage area under the gallery. But the text, at lunchtime, was for something else: “Find somewhere comfy tonight pls. After dinner, pick us up from mine 7:30. Oral + fuck x2. B ready :)) M”

Did she need to be quite so explicit? My mind swam with the implications. Texts could be traced, couldn’t they? I wasn’t sure but I’d seen news stories about guys being locked up on text evidence they thought they’d got rid of.

Now I had one from a fifteen-year-old pupil talking about sex. I’d deleted Jill’s email with the photos and video but they could be retrieved too couldn’t they?

And it was an escalation, already. I was going to have them in my car. I might be seen with them. I’d have to tell my girlfriend a lie about where I was going.

And where could I take them? It was mid-September and too cold to be outside ‘comfortably’. So what building could I take them to?

Then there was the whole humiliating thing being ordered about by a trio of teens, just so they could compete in some adolescent inter-gang sex contest.

I was amazed that sex with gorgeous girls could suddenly become unattractive, purely on the basis of power, but it had. Normally it would be a good feeling to have such desirable girls after me, but my appeal to these three was that I’d been easy to fool and exploit and boss around.

It’s not my fault I’m susceptible to girls’ firm young thighs is it? But that’s my Achilles heel. They’d cottoned on to it, to use in their game, and it’s not exactly flattering. Teens have no appreciation of risk, either. They could destroy my life without even meaning to. Here was this damning text already.

I fretted. I looked up Melanie’s address, texted my live-in girlfriend to prepare the way for a ‘project meeting’ this evening, and wracked my scrambled brain for somewhere I could have sex with underage girls in comfort.

Dammit. I’d worked so hard. Got my degrees, landed the job in this sought-after school, prepared my lessons thoroughly, volunteered for extra duties, and been promoted already. I got on well with the Head, and even with the forbidding Chairman of the Board of Governors. My career had been looking great - now this.

I could not think of a building. The school would be closed and it has CCTV all round it. All the hotels make you come and go through reception. Offices have alarms. Cinemas are public. It stood to reason that any warm building would be either secure or public.

Perhaps a motorhome? I was desperate enough to weigh it up. I could hire one. For a week. It would cost hundreds of pounds but perhaps in a week the gang’s craziness would have died off. They might feel more like screwing boys their own age after gaining some experience? After all I doubted Deirdre’s gang was doing it with a teacher.

Where could I park it though? Where could I keep it and where could I take it with the girls? In all the places I could think of, like a layby or a car park, there was a chance a passing police car might decide to check up. Especially if it was rocking suggestively on its springs.

On top of which it would be the most conspicuous thing imaginable to pick up girls in. Well I could use the car to make the pickup, then transfer ... but still I couldn’t think where to park it. And if ever there were rumours, an investigation, it would be there on my credit card history to condemn me, with no credible explanation for it.

I texted Melanie back: “Can’t find anywhere sorry”. They couldn’t ruin my life for not doing the impossible, could they?

No more than a minute later a reply came in : “ uk.linkedin.com/pub/dir/Justin/Rjchards”

Jesus. My heart was in my mouth as I loaded the page.

I read in horror: “Justin Richards, PhD and Pervert Teacher. Loves young girls, but not in the best way...”

There followed career details copied from my real linkedin account, the school and everything, BUT my profile picture was me staring at close range at Jill’s little pink panties!

In what could be seen Jill looked even younger than fifteen, with her slim figure, her face out of shot and those childish pink panties - which she’d carefully selected for this exact reason I realised!

“Okay, take it down, I’ll find somewhere,” I tapped out, desperately backspacing to correct the mistakes as my fingers stabbed wildly on my phone. I sent it and sat trembling at my desk, refreshing the page every few seconds. After several agonising minutes the fake profile updated with a copy of my own photo and details.

A text came in from Sandra: “Let that be a lesson to you Justin. 7:30.”

That took the wind out of my sails pretty thoroughly, I have to admit. These girls really could destroy my life. They were clever and quite ruthless.

So. A building. My kingdom for a building. A building for my life.

One with a bed, ideally. Warm. Private.

Well ... I sighed.

I went home at 3:30, stopping in at the off-licence on the way. By the time my girlfriend Liz got in at 5:15 I stank of whiskey and had had enough to act drunk. She’d moved in three months before and it was good between us, though I didn’t think we were going to get married. Still, she’s a sweet girl and I felt bad, but it was the best I could come up with.

I had a video playing on the TV in the living room - of two hairy men enjoying gay sex together.

“Justin?” she shrieked when she saw the screen.

“Sorry babe,” I switched it off, “didn’t notice the time.”

“Never mind the time,” she yelled, “what the fuck are you watching??”

“Sorry babe,” I slurred. “I’ve realised ... I think ... I like men.”

She glared at me in disbelief. “You WHAT? Are you SERIOUS?”

“Yes, sorry,” I repeated, “it’s just come to me, out of the blue. After I had ... an experience.”

“An experience? But you’ve never exactly had a problem with women have you? It’s a job for a girl to keep up, if anything!”

“Yes, sorry. It’s just ... this boy...”

“Boy?”

“He’s so cute. His ass. His cock. If you met him, I’m sure you’d understand. In fact...”

“A student? How old is he, for fucks sake?”

“Oh he’s post-pubescent.”

“Oh that’s fine then! He must be at least fucking fourteen, so you can fucking fuck his ass with a clear fucking conscience. Or get fucked by him, is it?”

“You have to meet him, then you’ll understand. In fact, I was thinking...”

“Oh no. Oh no. Justin. I am NOT joining in with your perverted boy fucking. Or men fucking. Shit! Fuck! I thought you were ... Shit!!”

Ten minutes later I had a stinging glow on my left cheek, Liz was gone, suitcases and all, and the house was clear for my teen nemeses.

Fortunately it was dusk by 7:30 and the street was quiet, so I managed to collect them and get them inside without attracting attention.

“This is nice Justin,” Sandra looked around, sharing a triumphant grin with her cocky friends. It’s only a small terraced house, but with the insane price of property in this city I was pretty pleased to have it. Anyway I’d worked and spent money on it to make it nice, and I was idiotically gratified to have my schoolgirl blackmailers recognise that.

“Definitely comfortable,” grinned Jill, her bright blue eyes twinkling as she shed her jacket. It left her in a thin, strappy top over her thin, above-the-knee-length skirt that swirled sexily around her slender figure.

“Are we all staying at each other’s?” Melanie asked her fellow teens, taking off her long coat to reveal an outrageously short mini and cut-off tank. Her thighs are truly delectable. I realised she meant staying the night here. She wasn’t bothering to ask me.

“Do stay by all means,” I grumped sarcastically.

“Now Justin,” Sandra was in my face in a flash, “you mustn’t be stroppy. This can be such fun, so don’t spoil it. If you spoil it for us we might screw you and then do a few Justin Richards profiles anyway. There are loads of sites, you know, not just the main ones. You wouldn’t even know till the shit hit the fan. So don’t be cross with us. We’re girls and you’re hot and we have to get laid. You didn’t have to touch Jill did you?”

I wilted under her fire. Barely sixteen, it wasn’t right. But it was real.

She turned and added her jacket to the pile, making it three Year 10 girls in skirts and tiny tops in my rather small living room. None of them was wearing a bra, and the heavy concentration of teen thighs and tits was making my head spin.

I took a deep breath and tried to swallow my various instincts that were reacting to this invasion. I went and checked over the curtains, making sure there were no gaps - the street is right outside. There was no point being angry.

I couldn’t grab them, give them the mother and father of a spanking then chuck them out, so that instinct was counterproductive, even though it was pretty strong! I had to get through this, and have my life intact on the other side.

“Let’s have a look at your bedroom,” Melanie was heading for the stairs, followed by the others. I could only follow too, and look up at three sets of gorgeous thighs and asses as I went. Jill looked down at me.

“Having a nice perv?” she smirked, wiggling her pert little bottom. “You can massage my thighs to start with.” She pulled a bottle out of her bag and I couldn’t help but start an erection.

They surveyed my bedroom critically. Sandra went to the spare bedroom and came back. “There’s another double mattress in there,” she told her allies, “so we can bring that in here later, and have this one on the floor too. Let’s prop the bed up on the wall there so there’s space, then we can do the massage on just the quilt, on the floor so it’s firm enough. Give us a hand Justin.”

In a minute I’d helped them to stand the bed up across the window, which at least gave me an illusory sense of protection from the houses across the street, and to lay out the quilt from the spare room in the middle of the room, alongside the mattress.

“Okay.” Sandra pronounced herself satisfied and started taking off her clothes, looking meaningfully at me. I stripped as required, and in a minute I was kneeling next to Jill’s lissom body lying naked on the quilt, on her front.

“Where’s the thermostat?” asked Melanie. I told her and she went off downstairs to turn it up. They were planning to be nude all the time here, clearly. She came back and and sprawled on the mattress with Sandra. They were naked and touching here and there - to wind me up I pretty sure, since they didn’t feel like lovers. But it did wind me up, of course. I was half hard already.

I poured a bit of the oil onto Jill’s left hamstring and she jumped slightly. I rubbed it slowly up onto her glute, and she began to relax as I started the massage. I’ve done sports massage and I was pretty sure how to adjust it for a sensuous massage, so I got into it. Frankly with Jill it would have been impossible not to get into it. Her body is so firm, so slender and feminine, with her fine skin and the delicious toned muscle.

I found myself savouring her, and then cherishing her. I was cross with her and protective all at once.I extended the massage up her back, over her waist - which my hands stretched across so easily - down her arms, over her shoulders, back down over her delicious little ass and her thighs and calves and then her feet. She was loving it.

I tried to forget about the power thing and let myself get immersed in her body, feeling it move fluidly under the forces I was applying. Its relaxation became more and more complete, until after a while it began to turn to arousal for her. Her legs opened a little and her pelvis was writhing slightly.