Kinks
Chapter 4

Copyright© 2016 by starfiend

Young Adult Sex Story: Chapter 4 - What would you do if you had a couple of embarrassing sexual 'kinks' but still wanted to go into space to fight the swarm? Toby was in just such a dilemma. However when a friend got into trouble, he just put that all to one side to help, even though his father got the opportunity to go, and to include him. Was he better off by staying?

Caution: This Young Adult Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Teenagers   Consensual   Heterosexual   Fiction   Science Fiction   Polygamy/Polyamory   Slow  

The following morning, as I was going into the bathroom, I spotted a pair of Mum’s knickers lying on the floor in front of the airing cupboard. Mum had been in there a few minutes earlier. I guessed she’d taken a pile of her clean clothes out to take to her room, and had dropped these ones without noticing.

I whipped them up and stuffed them down inside my boxers. After brushing my teeth I went back to my room and took them out, spreading them on the bed and looked at them. I couldn’t help myself. I stripped off my pants and trousers, and pulled them on. I was already hard.

I had never worn knickers to school, but this just seemed fate. I pulled my trousers on again, hoping my erection would fade a little as these knickers were particularly soft and sensual. Luckily I had no PE or games today, so no changing.

Everything seemed to go well that day. Very well in some respects.

Barely two minutes later I saw my sister wearing just knickers and bra. I’d seen her like that a few times over the years, but never often enough in my opinion. It was only for a second, and she didn’t see me, but that image, like a few others of her, would be burned into my memory for a long time. She did have a stunning figure, and I just knew I would go looking for those particular knickers, and very soon.

First lesson on a Friday was double maths with Mrs Clarke. For once she had her hair down, and she looked so amazingly pretty. She was also wearing trousers rather than a skirt. Now while a skirt showed off her fine legs, the trousers she was wearing definitely showed off her equally fine backside. And since there was no sign of VPL I allowed my imagination to wonder whether she went commando, or wore thong knickers. Either was enough to get my juices flowing, and for a while, sat at my desk, I had a real boner. Mum’s knickers just exacerbated the ‘problem’, so it was fortunate I didn’t have to stand up.

At lunchtime Sandra slipped on a loose tile on the floor. Luckily she wasn’t hurt. No more than her pride anyway. But for a few moments I had a full view up her skirt and between her splayed legs. Beautiful lacy pink knickers! I couldn’t help looking. I wanted them. I wanted what was inside them as well, but I wanted those knickers.

“Stop perving,” she snapped.

“I’m not,” I snapped back. “Perving would be if I tried to look up your skirt. You accidentally flashed me and I couldn’t help seeing. That’s just seeing accidentally. That’s not perving.” I paused for a moment. “You do have very nice legs though.” I grinned at her. She just scowled back.

Luckily both Bondy and Talulah were there, and both had to admit that what had happened was not me perving, though Talulah did tell me off for looking. “I couldn’t help it,” I said insistently, “It just caught my attention, then I was looking. It wasn’t planned.”

Both girls accepted what I’d said, but Sandra did seem a touch uncomfortable with me. “Sorry,” I whispered to her. “I honestly didn’t mean to look at you, I didn’t try to, you know.”

She unbent a little, just nodding at me, without verbally accepting my apology. By the end of lunch break, she had relaxed completely and we were once again chatting as if nothing had happened.

As we walked to physics, Bondy did ask me, privately, what I had seen. I thought I knew him well enough not to blab, so I told him.

“Ooh, that sound so nice,” he whispered. “I wish I’d seen it.”

“Just don’t tell anyone I told you.”

“I wouldn’t. It’d be like Talulah, and telling about her.”

I nodded. “But it was so sexy,” I said.

“Sod off you bastard,” Bondy wailed softly. He wasn’t actually cross or angry with me, just gently frustrated. I laughed, but stopped teasing him. It was enough.

After lunch I had chemistry theory, followed by another maths lesson, then a ten-minute break and the final lesson of the day, physics theory.

I never knew whether schools in America really were the way they seemed to be depicted in film and on TV: when the bell went, everyone just got up and rushed off, regardless of whether the teacher was in the middle of talking. In England you had to wait until you were dismissed. If you started to put things away before then, you could, and sometimes would, get into trouble.

After the bell went, Mrs Clarke finished what she was saying, then told us to put our things away. “Simpson, wait please.” She didn’t sound all that happy.

After everyone else had left, she went to her desk and sat down. “Come closer please,” she said, beckoning to me. Then. “Sit,” she pointed at a chair. She didn’t sound cross, she did sound determined.

“Your father has been in touch.” I blanched. Shit. What had he said about Talulah? Mrs Clarke wasn’t Talulah’s maths teacher, but she was her, our, form teacher, so anything like this would come through Mrs Clarke.

Mrs Clarke just looked at me. “Yes, okay,” she said. “I will.”

Now I was seriously confused. “What?”

“Apparently you told your father you would like me as a concubine, but thought I was unavailable. Is that true?”

“What? Oh. What?” I was so relieved that Dad hadn’t mentioned Talulah after all, that I was just babbling. I don’t think she quite realised my sense of relief though. Not exactly anyway, as I was now panicking about something completely different. My brain was just a maelstrom of thoughts and emotions.

She smiled slightly. “About a third of all the boys I teach have a crush on me to a certain extent. I wish they didn’t. It gets in the way of my teaching.”

“But. But.” I started. I was confused, also worried. Why was she telling me this? To tease me? To remind me that she was a sponsor?”

“You are slightly different. I know you have a crush on me,” she waved away the half formed objection I tried to make. “That doesn’t bother me. Do you know why I teach you?”

I shook my head.

“Do you know why I don’t give you the same stuff I give the others?”

“Because I’m not good enough,” I whispered.

She gave me a tight smile. “You finished the A-level syllabus before the end of spring term last year; and don’t forget Easter was early last year. What you don’t know is that the end of year maths exams you did last May were actually your maths A-level.” My jaw just dropped.

“What I’ve been doing with you since May last year, and so far this year, is the further maths syllabus.” She shook her head. “You’ve not quite finished the further maths syllabus but I’ve also been giving you first year degree course maths. You are making such easy work of it that it is exciting to me. In this morning’s lesson I dug out some stuff from my second year. Advanced calculus. You made heavy weather of it at first, but the stuff I’ve just given you now is a direct follow on, and you breezed through it like it was one plus one.

My mouth just dropped. “Does Dad know?”

She smiled. That smile alone was enough to raise my blood pressure slightly. “Your parents knew and agreed, almost a year ago. I went to see them during the autumn half term holiday last year. Showed them how far you had already got, and explained what I wanted to do. They both agreed wholeheartedly.”

“Oh my god,” I said, a smile beginning to break out on my face.

“Do you know how exciting it is to teach someone like you?”

I shook my head.

She smiled. “Most teachers get a real buzz out of teaching someone like you.”

“So why are you telling me now?” I asked with a hoarse whisper. I was still in shock.

She sighed. “Over the summer break my husband was collected by the Confederacy. I was with him at the time, but he didn’t want to take me. I was so upset that I didn’t go with anybody.”

I frowned. “But surely you’re a sponsor?”

She shook her head. “I had, have, a 5·9 CAP score.”

Once again my mouth dropped open. This beautiful, intelligent woman was a concubine?

“Will you go with me?” I asked, my brain still not really thinking straight. My thoughts just bypassed the higher functions of my brain and went straight from my desires to my mouth.

“Yes,” she said simply. “I will. There are a couple of conditions though.”

“I think I know the first, don’t tell anyone else.”

“Except for your father, who already knows and approves, correct. You can’t tell anyone else. If it gets out, not only will I stand up in school and call you a liar to your face, I won’t go with you. Do you understand?”

I nodded.

“It’s very important that no one knows I have a concubines score. It would destroy any credibility I have amongst the students as a teacher. I wouldn’t be able to teach. So that too is an absolute secret. Understand?”

I nodded. My heart was pounding with excitement.

“Third. I notice that you, and Mr Bond have been hanging around with Miss Evans and Miss Walmsley.”

“Who?”

“Sandra Walmsley?”

“Oh, yes, sorry, I didn’t know her surname.”

“Well I’m guessing that that is because of Miss Evans’ home life?”

“Er, er,” I squeaked.

Mrs Clarke gave me a small smile. “I do know all about her life. I am so sorry for her. I really wish I could do more than the little I am doing.” She frowned slightly. “I keep her back for half an hour after school, officially in detention, about twice a week most weeks. Her sister stays with her, and they do their homework. Amber doesn’t know what her sister is putting up with and Talulah doesn’t know that I know.”

“How did you find out?”

“Sandra told me, in confidence, about three years ago, when she, Sandra, was in my form. I don’t normally have a sixth form as my form group, but this year I specifically asked for Talulah’s group. The fact that you were in it as well is just chance.” She smiled slightly, “good chance. It’s just a shame that Miss Walmsley is not in it. That unfortunately is out of my control.”

“Oh.” I frowned. “Did you report it to the police?”

She shook her head. “That’s not how this sort of thing works. One can report it direct to the police, but I go through what’s called a Safeguarding team.”

I frowned puzzled, but didn’t speak.

She gave me a smile that went nowhere near her eyes. “The safeguarding team is a small group of people who do an initial investigation and have direct contacts with the appropriate parts of the social services and the police. They deal with reports of issues with both children and vulnerable adults.”

 
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