Chapter 7

Molly was quickly relegated to the back seat of her father’s new car, respectfully offering the prime position to her teacher who gratefully shuffled into place, the coolness of the soft cream leather providing some relief to her exposed bottom in the late summer heat.

Molly’s father noticed instantly his passenger’s tartan skirt, which at barely 6 inches long did not cover much, and her white stockings seemed to act as a ladder, encouraging his eyes to avert towards what little of her the skirt covered (he couldn’t help but contemplate that if it was only an inch higher he would be able to finally get a glimpse of the pussy so many in town had often talked about).

“Sorry I don’t think we’ve met” he said nervously, outstretching his right hand which he hoped would stop her from noticing how hard he was trying to not stare.

She was even more beautiful than the videos suggested, her cheekbones supported her round cheeks which, in turn framed her straight white teeth and soft brown eyes.

“I’m Sophie, Sophie Driscoll” she said sweetly, ignoring his hand and leaning in for a soft kiss on the cheek.

Her hair smelled softly of coconut, and it brushed against his face like they were old friends.

She turned and wished her pupil a good morning. Molly’s heart raced at the sight of her, even from her position at the back of the car, she admired Miss Driscoll more than anyone she had ever met.

“Thank you so much for the lift” the teacher said, brushing her hair behind her ear with a girlish femininity.

“Not at all, I’m John. I’ve heard so much about you”

“All good I hope?” She enquired. Of course, she knew the answer. She made no secret of her desires, and her reputation across the town was now so embedded in local folklore that she was regularly the sole topic of conversation around the table of well-heeled dinner parties and pub beer gardens alike.

“Yes! Very good!”

John regretted his display of enthusiasm immediately. His daughter was sat directly behind him, which was difficult enough given his growing infatuation with her, but with Miss Driscoll now at his side he was trying his very best to not allow his lust to become too obvious.

She wasn’t offended. She giggled charmingly, assuming that he was like all the other men in town.

And he was. All beautiful women gain the interest of men, but she was different. The way she carried herself with an elegant poise and her understated confidence screamed ‘lady’, but her innate flirtatiousness, rampant sexuality and, today at least, her revealing dress sense made her irresistible.

His hand glanced the outer reaches of her thigh as he moved the manual gear stick through the transmission. And with each gear change he swore that, instead of her moving her leg out of his way she was pushing it closer to him.

“So, Miss Driscoll...” “Call me Sophie...”

Molly never knew her first name, but thought to herself how fitting it was. Classy, pretty and feminine.

“Sorry, Sophie. We’ve heard such good things about St Augustine’s. You and Mr Peddigrew seem to have done a wonderful job; my wife and I were a little worried when we saw some old news reports”.

The teacher was reminded about the school’s reputation. The national media had, three years earlier, attacked the school heavily for its extremely high instances of teenage pregnancy, a problem that had swiftly been resolved by the Headteacher and his very first appointment, Miss Driscoll.

“Oh that problem has all gone away now.” she replied, biting her lip and smiling softly with pride.

Since she had arrived at the school the boys no longer had much interest in local school girls (something that had not gone unnoticed by Molly whose own sexuality was becoming stronger by the day, her imagination now consumed with the memory of looking up from the ground, Miss Driscoll’s tongue expertly pleasuring her pubescent pussy whilst the boys masturbated vigorously).

John wasn’t stupid. He had been a boy once himself and he knew full well that if Miss Driscoll had been around at his school he wouldn’t have taken the slight bit of interest in anything else. But he was also unfailingly polite.

“I suppose it just takes a few good teachers to show some leadership and really inspire the kids?” He knew that was waffle and rolled his eyes with embarrassment, but he was fighting his thoughts and tried his best to make idle conversation.

She looked at him, again running her hair behind his ears, her long eyelashes seemingly trying to draw his gaze from the road.

“That’s very sweet of you John but I’m sure you know how I’ve done it.”

He stuttered, paused and then laughed awkwardly.

“Well yes. From what I hear the boys are very lucky.”

“DAD!” screeched the girl from the rear passenger seat, mortified to hear what she assumed was an attempt at flirting.

Molly knew her father was handsome. He was tall, with huge round shoulders, a masculine square jaw that was softened each time he smiled as his natural dimples sunk into his cheeks. Since her encounter with Mr Jenkinson in the corridor a few weeks earlier she had looked at older men in a completely different way (even though her father had only just turned 43 she still classed him as an old man). Nevertheless, even though her nascent sexuality had developed at break neck speed she had yet to think of him as a sexual man with his own needs and desires.

Miss Driscoll laughed, turning her head so she could just about see her pupil.

“It’s OK Molly...” She placed her hand softly on his, stroking his knuckles delicately as he again changed gears as she again looked at him directly. “Well I do try to teach them a few new things.”

John could feel his wool suit trousers get tighter still. She was everything his wife wasn’t. He thought how from a different woman, her brazenness might appear outrageous and cheap, but from her it seemed attractive, even cute.

All three recognised that the atmosphere had changed, as they pulled up to the gates of the school. The car drew to a stop, the final wave of children passed by mindlessly chatting and laughing amongst themselves. Other cars pulled up, pupils hopped out slinging their rucksacks over their shoulder before making their way inside.

“Well, have a good day” he murmured, looking at Miss Driscoll longingly, not wanting to say goodbye.

“Is there any way I can thank you?” She bit her lip, pushing into the car seat so her back arched slightly, her breasts pushing from the top of her half-open, knotted shirt. Her right hand stroked her thigh, leading up from her knee towards her short skirt, lifting it only very slightly so the fabric ruffled together.

John was no longer trying to pretend he wasn’t staring. Molly rolled her eyes, almost cringing in horror to see the effect Miss Driscoll was having on her father.

“Erm ... well...” was all he could manage.

She giggled with girlish delight. It was still so funny when she saw grown men so intimidated by her. It was only sex; many of the boys and men she knew would barely pause for breath before touching her, or pinning her down and taking her passionately, yet here was a big strong handsome man who could barely string a sentence together.

But she knew men like him. Once they were given their chance, once their nerves and intimidation had dissipated they quickly become real men again - more often than not, they were the best lovers, and often the most perverse (‘it’s always the quiet ones... ‘, her own father would often say).

She took his hand, her deep green eyes fixed on his. His hand was strong, with rough skin as if he spent his days toiling the fields. They were a world a way from the softer hands of the boys she taught. She placed it on her thigh, and as she pulled it delicately towards her skirt he felt her warm soft skin contrast with the fishnets of her long white stockings. His stomach was filled with butterflies, his mind clouded for a second as though in the midst of a particularly vivid dream.

She helped him extend a finger as it moved underneath her skirt, her own heart racing as it did every time she met a new lover.

Miss Driscoll sighed, relaxing further into her seat as she felt his finger against her clit, her teeth biting her lip more deeply. John watched in amazement, almost shell shocked at the advances of such a beautiful woman.

He had been trying to fight his impulses, but it was of no use.

“Molly, go inside now darling”. He was anxious to be rid of her, he could not contain his lust any longer.

But she stayed still. Her embarrassment was no longer acute and spending more time with Miss Driscoll was more important than school. It was as if her relationship with her father was suspended, now they were just three people who needed something, whose desires were colliding and colluding with one another. Time was standing still, and the outside world did not exist.

The wetness of Miss Driscoll’s pussy was like nothing he had experienced before. He had barely touched her, yet his finger slid up and down her clitoris with complete ease. He found himself reaching to his trousers, unclamping the leather belt and opening them as wide as they would go, quickly lowering the zip as though his life depended on it.

Molly watched, her father’s fully erect cock only partially visible thanks to his suit jacket which fell tauntingly from his shoulders and was now hanging to the side of his leather seat. But she could tell he was big, very big in fact (and most certainly bigger than her history teacher’s), if only by the exaggerated motion of his spare hand which was rising and falling as he masturbated.

She wasn’t the only one to be impressed. Miss Driscoll’s jaw dropped at the sight of him, and her open mouth quickly turned into a wide smile, the sound of her exhaling almost became laughter as she observed with delight what she guessed must have been 9 solid inches, his tip shining as it filled with blood.

She unlocked her seatbelt which slid over her chest as she unknotted her blouse, and immediately pulled it over her feminine shoulders, her lace bra accentuated by the sunlight that now shone brightly as it rose above the school building.

Miss Driscoll couldn’t help herself. She leaned forward and kissed him passionately, his hand stroking her arm as she raised her chin exposing her small neck. She gasped as his tongue licked her shoulders in a straight line up to her ears.

Molly was transfixed. Part of her wanted to run as fast as her legs would take her. Another part to scream, another part to cry. But there was no doubt there was something within her that was jealous. Yet her jealousy was confusing, she watched the couple in front of her with no real understanding of who exactly it was she was jealous of.

Miss Driscoll’s hand moved to John’s cock, her delicate fingers barely long enough to hold it.

Outside, a woman leapt from her car and chased after her son, handing him a forgotten textbook. She turned to the large 4x4 which sat idly, obstructing the main access road to the school gates. She saw a beautiful brown haired woman, her body shifting in the seat before disappearing from view as she leaned towards the driver. His head snapping back in delight.

‘Miss Driscoll up to her old tricks again’, she thought, rolling her eyes with a smirk as she kissed her son goodbye for the second time before returning to her car and driving into the distance.

John had never experienced a mouth like it. Soft, warm and with just the right amount of wetness. He looked down, the blonde tips of her hair fell over his legs, her face obscured completely. All he could feel was the sensation. Her tongue wrapped itself around his cock, he grabbed the arm rest in the driver’s seat door, his whole body convulsing as her lips moved down the length of his shaft, seemingly swallowing it whole. He had never been so deep inside a woman’s mouth - most women would begin to gag almost immediately. But this was different, he could feel the tip of his cock slide down her throat, which almost massaged it as it moved in and out slowly.

“Molly, get out. Seriously you have to go.”

She didn’t reply. He knew he could not possibly stop Miss Driscoll - she was undoubtedly the most attractive woman to ever pay him attention and he had fantasised about this moment for so long - but equally he had so much to lose. His job, his family, his good standing in a new town.

“MOLLY!”

He strained his neck to turn and face his daughter. His anguish going some way to preventing him from enjoying Miss Driscoll’s soft mouth but firm technique.

But Molly wasn’t going anywhere. Her heart was beating so fast she could feel it pound against her chest. Almost involuntarily, her right hand had lifted her skirt and found its way inside her underwear, her fingers stroking her clitoris on their way to her pussy.

She made eye contact with her father, his masculine jaw covered with a slight hint of light brown stubble. His eyes dropped down to her open legs, a confused frown appearing on his brow before his gaze returned to his daughter’s pretty, dimpled face. He smiled at her and she smiled back, as if they were both realising that their relationship had just changed, for the better, forever.

He closed his eyes and returned his focus to Miss Driscoll, his right hand holding her head firmly in place, his left hand reaching down along her smooth back covered only by the thin strap of her pink bra.

His cock popped out of her mouth, she looked up at him with a lustful smile.

“You are so big” she said, breathlessly.

She knew such compliments mattered to men, and she had said it to virtually every one she had been with. But this time it really was true. The only downside of her lust for the schoolboys was how rare it was to find a cock that impressed her so completely. She loved every cock she had ever tasted - there was so much more to sex than just size - but her lust for John was real.