Somewhere in the hills, there is a nondescript house, I am sure you have seen many times. You just never thought anything about it.

It is a large house. But it is an unspectacular house on the outside.

White.

Brick.

Two stories.

A well-kept lawn.

Boring.

That is on the outside.

It is on the inside where the wonders begin.

Because, you see, this house has a name.

It is called The Learning House for Girls.

OK, the name is not exciting.

But it is what is taught inside.

It does not teach reading, writing, arithmetic, or other subjects.

It teaches the art of making love.

This is a very exclusive school. And only the most exclusive girls may attend.

They do not apply. Nobody knows about this school until they are accepted.

And, exactly how the teachers at this school choose the school is a secret they have kept for the hundreds of years the school has existed.

At one time, only 32 girls were allowed to attend the school.

They live in the school until their lessons are completed. This takes four years.

Only girls of a certain age are allowed to attend.

Only girls of a particular persona are allowed to attend.

Only girls of a particular sexual persona are allowed to attend.

But girls from all over the world have attended The Learning House for Girls.

Do I need to remind you that the name is not exciting? But the school is.

The classes are taught in the sub-basement, floors out of view.

When you saw this house, you did not know it had several basement levels. It does.

One must keep such a school away from prying eyes, right?

Yes, we are right.

And so, the classes are kept from the eyes of strangers and others unaware of The Learning House for Girls.

It is a boring name.

But the school is not.

During each school year, there are four grades. Yes, much like a regular school. But this is The Learning House for Girls.

I do wish I did not have to keep typing that boring name. But I will continue to do so until I no longer need to type that boring name.

Anyway, there are four grades. Each grade contains eight girls. Once the girls from the highest grade graduate, eight more new girls are introduced to the school.

Grade four contains one of those classes one hears about in legend. Why do we hear so much about it? We begin to doubt it exists simply because of how often we hear about it.

I assure you, this class does exist.

It is called, simply, Ms. Cindy’s School for Anilingus.

If you do not know what anilingus is, you will soon find out.

Nobody knows how long Ms. Cindy has taught the class. But everyone knows who she is. Why, girls on their first day at The Learning House for Girls know who Ms. Cindy is.

Ms. Cindy is a remarkable woman. She has an air about her that lets you know she is important. But she also talks with a person, not at a person.

She is graceful.

She is intelligent.

She possesses a noble air about her.

She is easy to talk to.

Everyone who meets her agrees that she is one of the most beautiful sights they have ever seen.

No, she is not just one of the most beautiful women they have ever seen.

She is one of the most beautiful sights they have ever seen.

I could try to describe her, but it would do her no justice.

So, I will leave it at that; she is one of the most beautiful women you have ever seen.

On this particular day, Ms. Cindy stands in front of her class of eight girls, grade four, on their first day of class at Ms. Cindy’s School for Anilingus at The Learning House for Girls.

“By now,” she says in a crips voice anyone can understand, as she stands straight in front of the classroom chin held high, hands behind her back. “You have all become quite familiar with each other. You have become quite intimate with each other. Some of you may have even performed anilingus on another. But today and for the following weeks, I will teach you the proper techniques of anilingus.

Yes, there were stifled giggles in the room. Everyone there knew what anilingus was.

They had been prepared for this class.

Still, the giggles persisted.

Ms. Cindy allowed them. She knew the giggles would happen naturally, like other preconceived perceptions about anilingus.

But she had a duty.

And, she had patience.

The first week was a classroom setting, where Ms. Cindy instructed.

She instructed the technique.

She instructed on cleanliness.

She instructed alternate techniques.

She instructed on hygiene.

She instructed boundaries.

She instructed respect.

She instructed pleasure, to please, and to be pleased.

She used the whiteboard, tablets, and instructional videos.

She offered students the opportunity to leave the class, should they wish.

None ever did, though she did keep her eye on some. Many times, when the day came, true colors would reveal themselves, and some would leave.

She had her instincts on who would leave and who would not.

Finally came the day.

That lesson was not taught in a classroom.

Instead, it was taught in a huge bedroom, with several beds.

Four beds, to be exact.

One in every two girls. I think you know that.

Ms. Cindy let the girls pick their partners. The pairings were very predictable.

There were June and May.

There were Amber and Ishra.

There were Clarice and Rosa.

There were Milly and Tilly.

Having been in the same class at the same school for four years, some girls had become remarkably close to each other.

Some had become lovers.

In The Learning School for Girls, such loves were encouraged. Celebrated. Cherished.

Weddings had resulted from romances discovered at The Learning School for Girls.

In the eyes of Ms. Cindy, this classroom would be no different.

“OK, girls, now we disrobe,” Ms. Cindy said as a matter of factly while removing her dress.

Glances were exchanged, smiles were exchanged, and clothes were removed.

After four years together, the girls had grown accustomed to each other’s bodies.

Still, eyes glanced about, taking in the surrounding beauty.

Ms. Cindy smiled to herself. This class was indeed beautiful, with each girl possessing a certain different beauty in herself.

Millie had an impish beauty.

Tilly had a relaxed beauty.

Rosa had an outgoing beauty.

Clarisa had a classic beauty.

Ishara had an exotic beauty.

Amber had a natural outdoorsy beauty.

May had a freckly beauty.

June had an adventurous child’s beauty.

With her hands behind her back and spine straight, Ms. Cindy smiled professionally. “Now, one girl from each couple, assume the position by lying on the bed, face first, knees on the floor, derriere in the air.”

Milly, Rosa, Amber, and June lay on the four beds.

“I do assume you have all washed thoroughly?”
“Yes, Ms. Cindy,” the girls all chimed.

“Good. Now, the other girls – I want you to kneel behind your partner, face about two feet from your partner’s derriere.”

The girls obliged. One hesitated slightly before getting to her knees.

Ms. Cindy would watch her closely.

“I would now like you to take one hand on each of your partner’s derriere cheeks and spread them until you can see her opening, but not so much as to cause your partner discomfort.”

The girls obliged. Again, there was a little bit more hesitation from the same girl. She thought she saw a look of complete disgust before the girl composed herself.

“Now is our time for our introduction kiss. You may do it however you like: a gentle peck, a small lick, a dramatic kiss. Treat this as your first kiss, though I do suspect this is your first kiss in this location.”

Three of the girls obliged.

Tilly giggled as she leaned in, planting a little kiss on Milly, followed by a quick flick of her tongue and another kiss.

Ishara leaned in with a very wet kiss, followed by a soft, subtle blow, which caused Amber to let out a small squeak of delight. Ms. Cindy smiled to herself. That was a rarely done move.

May planted soft, loving kisses around June’s opening, causing June to sigh with utmost satisfaction. Ms. Cindy smiled again to herself. These were two who would spend the rest of their lives together.

Clarice hesitated.

Again.

Ms. Cindy cleared her throat and took a step closer.

Clarice was a striking blonde girl with straight hair past her shoulders and a straight bow keeping it from her forehead. Her body had developed much earlier than the other girls’ and continued to grow faster.

A gorgeous face worthy of any fashion model.

Nice perky breasts with usually erect nipples begging for a suckling.

An hourglass figure with a natural sway when she walked.

And a derriere Ms. Cindy dreamed of being under.

But with that came a bit of an attitude.

Do not get me wrong. Clarice was a passionate lover. Her oral skills on other girls were rarely surpassed. She possessed considerable pride in being able to bring her partner to an orgasm every time, no matter the situation.

But she had also come from a very wealthy family. She was prone to being, well, being stuck-up!

There were times when nobody wanted to be around her, as was her temper.

That striking face looked at Ms. Cindy, her hands still spreading Rosa. Clarice had a look of dramatic disgust on her face.

Ms. Cindy smiled to herself.

She had seen this look before, many times.

Ms. Cindy was sure she could overcome this problem.

“Is there an issue, Clarice?” Ms. Cindy asked innocently.

Clarice looked at Rosa’s butthole then back at Cindy, her eyebrows knitted. “Ms. Cindy. I don’t know if I can lick ... lick ... lick and asshole.”

There were some soft gasps from around the room.

Ms. Cindy smiled.

But before she could say anything, Clarice turned to Rosa. “I am so sorry, Rosa. I am so sorry,” she said with a little sob.

Rosa sat up and put her arms around Clarice. The hurt was visible in Rosa’s face, but she stayed strong for her friend.

“It’s not you, Rosa. It’s me. I just ... I was just brought up this way! I was always taught, butts are disgusting! And anal sex is for animals!”

Ms. Cindy stood calmly, watching the scene as the two girls talked through it with each other.

Some of the hurt left Rosa’s face as she discovered it was not she who disgusted Clarice, but the act.

Ms. Cindy stepped a little closer, offering her hand first to Rosa and helping her up, then to Clarice and helping her up.

Clarice looked at Ms. Cindy in the eye, then at the floor, shaking her head. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I don’t want to let you down. But ... it’s too much for me.”

Ms. Cindy hugged her tight, reassuring her and calming her again, letting the tears and sobs take their course until Clarice was calm again.

Ms. Cindy held Clarice out at arm’s length. “What if I showed you the beauty, the erotic beauty of the act? Personally?” she asked with a smile that could melt a boulder.

Clarice nodded, still looking a little unsure. “I ... I guess so.”

Ms. Cindy smiled at Rosa. “Would you mind if I show your partner?”

Rosa exploded with a smile that lit up the room. “Yes! If I can watch!” She bit her lower lip. “Up close.”

Ms. Cindy smiled. “You certainly may.” She turned her attention back to Clarice. “Would you mind taking the position, or do you need a moment?”

Clarice shook her head. “No. I am OK. I am ready.” She cleared her throat and knelt on the floor, lying face down in the bed with a grace rarely seen for her age.

The bed was short enough for her to kneel on the floor comfortably, with her elbows on the bed.

She arched her back gracefully.

With an inward smile, Ms. Cindy knelt behind the young lady, taking in an angle of her beauty she had not yet seen.

She loved her job.

Sex between students and instructors was not forbidden. It was encouraged. What better way to allow a young lady to find the key principles of cunnilingus than to receive it from one who knew the ways of pleasuring another woman?

These instructional periods often led to torrid affairs between students and their instructors. This also was not forbidden.

And, despite some of the age differences, some of those torrid affairs led to true romances and even marriage.

Ms. Cindy had her share of torrid affairs with students and other instructors.

It seemed like every year, she would find a student with whom she would carry on a year-long romance until the two parted their ways after the student’s graduation.

Ill temper never followed. Each time, the parting was emotional, congenial, and agreed upon.

She never had a type, having affairs with girls of different nationalities, races, looks, and ages.

But deep inside, Ms. Cindy’s tastes always seemed aimed at the younger ladies.

Clarice was, in her mind, an almost perfect specimen. Take away the air of aristocracy that reared its head occasionally, and the child would have been ideal in her mind.

Still, from the vantage point she had now, Clarice was perfect.

Her rear was ever so slightly rounded, but not too plump. This was the rear of a skinny girl, but one in attractive shape and of the age where things were filling out simply perfectly.

Ms. Cindy sighed to herself and gave each cheek a soft kiss. With each peck, she felt Clarice instinctively start, just a little bit.

“Sorry,” Clarice whimpered after the second kiss.

Ms. Cindy put her hand on the small of her back, stroking gently. “Do not worry, princess. It is natural. It is all right.”

Ms. Cindy stood, then lay down on the bed beside Clarice, mimicking her position.