Chapter 1

“This is Ms Burden,” said the class teacher, Miss Simmons, waving her hand at the attractive, well-dressed woman standing next to her. “And she’s here to tell you all about what it’s like to work in the retail industry.” Working in shops, she added, in case the gathered teenagers didn’t understand what retail was. Then Miss Simmons looked slightly apologetically at Sarah. “Sorry, is Ms okay? I just assumed that every woman who got to be a manager these days preferred that.”

“It’s fine,” smiled Sarah. Even though she was married it didn’t matter whether people called her Miss, Mrs or Ms. There was more to worry about in life other than variations in honorific titles.

“Oh good,” gushed Miss Simmons. Younger than Sarah, but not as elegant in her long skirt and shapeless brown jumper. Quite a contrast to how smart Sarah was in her dark grey knee-length skirt suit with its brilliant white blouse underneath the jacket. On the lapel of her jacket was a pin badge displaying Sarah’s company’s familiar logo. Sarah worked for a large retail business and being fully aware of the public profile of her employers was used to answering even unexpected requests like coming to talk about career prospects to schoolkids. Some of them might, if they were good enough, graduate to her position in life.

But they would have to apply themselves, just as Sarah had. Starting out on the shop floor and working her way up the chain of command. Some of that required being adaptable, just as Sarah had adapted to requests like this from local schools.

The class in front of Sarah however didn’t look like they might be capable of much. Some twenty-six boys and girls, who stared at the woman with a mixture of curiosity and indifference. They were all sixteen-year-old kids and the need to think about work was getting closer to them, if at all as the way these youngsters knew how adults could dodge work and responsibility all their life suggested they would do the same. Work was for losers, some of these kids’ parents probably had announced, and even seeing a well-dressed, slim woman like Sarah in front of them was little incentive for the teenagers to think that going to work every day brought a real reward. A few of them had seen Sarah drive up to the school earlier in her new BMW but they weren’t too impressed with that; some older teens they knew already drove round in proper cars with exciting features like tinted windows, sawn-off exhausts and ghetto-blaster stereo systems in the back instead of seats. Privately they doubted a sleek BMW could match that for being really cool on the street.

Anyway, who wanted to be successful? Who wanted to have to make decisions in life? Who, in fact, wanted to deal with people like them?

Sarah however took this in her stride. She gave a talk, showed some slides, told a few funny stories about life in retail and in so doing made her life sound as interesting and varied as it was. But she also made it clear it was work, and not all work was sitting around having a laugh and a joke. She did enough to make the class start to think, and from that they began to ask a lot of questions. Miss Simmons might have looked worried that there were too many questions being asked but Sarah answered them all smoothly and confidently. Confidence was something she had developed over the years and this was no hardship to her.

Eventually the lesson time ran out and although the kids were far more interested at the end than they had been at the beginning they were required to go and learn the intricacies of algebra for the next hour. At the signal from Miss Simmons, they gathered their things and filed out, though several of them — especially the boys — gave Sarah a last and almost longing look. The fact that a woman with good legs in high heels had taken time to come and talk to them, and talk so well too, had stirred something in the young males even if it was only lust. Sarah could see one or two of the sixteen-year-old lads had the small but definite signs of sexual arousal at the front of their pants, as if a well-dressed and confident female made them think of a woman willing to do what they wanted.

Sarah smiled within; she had long enjoyed seeing young males getting aroused at her. Especially when she found ways in the store, among the racks of clothes and away from the eyes of adults, to bend over or crouch in order to show more or her legs and stocking tops and panties to some teenage male who promptly enjoyed an erection, however red-faced they got as they stared.

One of the girls in the class had peeled away from the line of kids leaving the room and breathlessly asked Sarah for her phone number. “I want to work in fashion,” she said, “and can I ask you some more questions, please?”

Miss Simmons had overheard the girl’s words and interrupted. “Eliza Jones, I’m not sure Ms Burden has time to answer any more questions.”

“It’s okay,” said Sarah. “I’m happy to talk to Eliza here. Who knows, she might just be what me and my company is looking for one day.”

“Cool,” grinned Eliza, before she and Sarah exchanged mobile phone numbers. Then she fled after her classmates and left the two women alone.

“Pretty girl,” said Sarah, watching her go and the door swing closed.

“Very. Very pretty and utterly desirable, and I think she knows it,” said Miss Simmons, visibly relaxing now the room was empty. “Thanks for the talk. You were great there, Sarah.”

“You’re welcome. It was fun. Tell me, Jane, you ever get to play with little Eliza there?” A smile played on Sarah’s lips as she looked into her friend’s large, seductive eyes. Despite her frumpy clothes the teacher was a pretty woman and even better looking without her clothes on, as she well knew.

“Not like I play with you,” said Jane Simmons and she put her hand on Sarah’s arm and sighed. “I keep away from the girls here even though some of them clearly want it. Eliza would be great in bed with us, but it’s too much of a risk. Kids tend to gossip more than they should and sharing a secret that they are having sex with a teacher ... Well, you have to choose the right one to do it with. I’ve not found one for a few years now.”

“Perhaps Eliza would have no objection to getting me into bed,” said Sarah. “She can gossip all she wants then.”

“And what about me?” Jane put on a sort of disappointed pout as she ran her fingers up Sarah’s arm and looked longingly at her long-time friend and lesbian lover.

“Oh, you can be tied up and watch. You might learn something,” laughed Sarah.

“Fuck, don’t tempt me,” whispered Jane and for a moment it looked as if she might lean in for a kiss but stopped herself. “Sorry, I have another class in half-an-hour and I have to get ready.”

“Well, we can talk more about all this in bed,” said Sarah and winked at Jane. “I’d love to hear about how we could both manage little Eliza Jones.”

“Yes,” breathed Jane. “I think we would manage her very well between us.”

The mobile phone on Sarah’s office desk trilled later that afternoon. Unknown caller, but Sarah answered it nonetheless.

“Hi,” said a young voice on the end of the phone. Sarah recognised it as that of the girl who had asked for her number earlier in the classroom after the talk. “This is Eliza. Eliza Jones. You remember me? From your talk.”

“Of course I do, yes. Hi Eliza,” said Sarah, feeling a little excited pulse in herself. “What can I do for you?”

“It’s, um...” The girl paused as if thinking, or sharing a look with someone who was with her. Eliza definitely wasn’t alone right now. “It’s not important but, I mean, I’d like to talk to you some more. If I can?”

“About the retail business? Fashion?” Sarah asked it blandly but already had decided this call wasn’t about employment prospects and what the exciting new colours would be in next year’s stores. Little Eliza wanted something else.

“It’s not that ... Not quite.” A pause, probably another exchange of looks at the girl’s end with someone else. “I mean, yes, of course, but me and ... I mean me ... I’d like to have another chat with you. Privately.”

“Oh?” Sarah tried to keep her voice neutral. Inside she was bubbling: little Eliza and her undeclared friend were probably keen to ask more personal questions and who knew where that might lead?

“Yeah. It’s just ... You seem so confident and I’d like to know more. You know,” she added.

“I do,” said Sarah. “Well, I have a pretty full diary, but I am sure I can find a slot for you.” A real warm, wet slot, thought the woman. “When would it suit you?”

“Me? Um ... After school. Or a weekend. Yeah, a weekend would be good. Saturday, if you’re not working.”

“Some Saturdays I have to work,” said Sarah, “but for you Eliza I would be happy to find time.”

“Cool,” said the girl. “And ... could I bring a friend along?”

Ah, thought Sarah. The other person listening in, no doubt. “Of course. That would be fine. Tell me, who is your friend? The girl you were sat next to during my talk?”

“Uh ... not her. That was Samantha.” The girl lapsed into an unsure silence.

“So not Samantha with the green eyes,” said Sarah, illustrating she had noticed who had been looking at her.

“Green, yes? Oh yeah, her. No, it’s not her ... It’s a boy I know.”

“Brother?” Sarah asked, guessing it wasn’t.

“No, not him! Yuk! No, it’s Ben. He’s my ... well, my boyfriend.”

“And is Ben in your class? Not that it matters.”

“Yes. Ben was there.” Eliza gulped a little. “He wants to know some things, too.”

“About what?”

“Um ... you know.”

“Of course,” smiled Sarah, guessing what that was. “All I can say is the more the merrier.” She cast her mind back and was aware one of the boys in the class had hung back to be last out and had waited for Eliza outside the classroom door. A good-looking boy, Sarah recalled. That would be Ben.

More interestingly, he was one of the boys with a distinct bulge at the front of his trousers.

The rendezvous for meeting Eliza and Ben was a quiet spot in a park, away from the shops and the crowded places. Sarah had chosen it carefully, so that no one would be seen. She didn’t intend to do anything much here, other than talk, but it was quiet enough that the three of them could hold a conversation without being disturbed.

Sarah had chosen a similar outfit to the one she wore for her visit to the school. It not only helped reinforce her image of being a good looking, well-dressed business woman but also was easily open if needed. Life had taught Sarah to wear things that interested people — adult men or women or teenagers for that matter — could get ‘inside’ easily. You never put people off by seeming impenetrable or difficult.

New stockings too and high heels that while they weren’t quite ‘fuck me’ shoes they signalled the wearer was a woman who was less likely to say “no” to a good offer.

The two teens turned up looking warily around as they approached where Sarah was sitting on a bench. There was no cover nearby that someone could erupt from or for that matter overhear what was being said. It wasn’t private enough to suggest that sex could take place and not be seen. A shame, but then it was better to proceed slowly in this, Sarah had decided.