Chapter 5: Exam time

It was a mark of how much Kirsty's teachers liked her that they all came to me the next day with notes, handouts and textbook page numbers so she could study what she would be missing. I knew Kirsty's habit of reading ahead and preparing herself in advance of the curriculum would mean she had already covered the material, but didn't have the heart to tell them that given their good intentions.

I visited the library on the pretext of handing over the notes. I knew Kirsty wouldn't need them, but it was an excuse to go and see how she was doing. I found her deep in concentration, sitting alone at a table, her books spread around her. I just watched her for a few minutes, enjoying the sight. Then she looked up and spotted me, a smile forming on her lips.

"Your teachers are worried about you slacking so they've all given me instructions for what you need to cover." I said as I approached her table and sat down.

"Really? Wow, that's so thoughtful of them. Could you thank them for me?"

"Thank them yourself by studying the work and doing well in your exams, that's what we teachers live for. You should know that by now."

I remained with her talking for twenty minutes or so, confirming that she hadn't had any problems with the 'Bozo' as I had come to think of him. She really was an intelligent girl, witty, and just good company to be with.

The Headmaster must have had the MacCulloch girl in to see him because as far as I could see there was no lingering resentment after Kirsty returned to school.

I could certainly find no fault in Kirsty's learning from her weeklong suspension; she slipped back into things as if she had never been away. The swelling and bruising had all but gone, leaving her face back to its beautiful best. She watched me as I taught and I found I was growing used to it, expected it even.

The school was on the run up to Christmas and that meant the traditional Christmas dances for the various age groups. These were regarded with mixed feelings to be honest. The boys saw them as an opportunity to dance with the girls, but most of them struggled to work up the nerve to ask one. The girls saw it more as a fashion parade I think, all trying to outdo each other. I normally avoided them like the plague, but this year I had decided I was going to be on duty. I rationalised this to myself on the basis that I needed to check out 'Derek' to make sure Kirsty was safe with him.

In the week leading up to the dance Kirsty asked if she could have another of our 'chats'. She came round to my classroom at the end of the day and took up one of her favourite positions, sitting on a desk at the front of the class, legs swinging.

What can I help you with now Kirsty?" I asked her.

"Um, it's Derek sir."

"What about Derek, Kirsty?"

"He wants, he, he wants me to play with his cock, I mean penis sir."

She dropped her head but I could see her cheeks redden with embarrassment. I was glad she was looking down because my jaw had dropped at both her language and the topic she wanted advice on. This was new, uncharted territory but I knew she had to ask someone about these things. My determination to lay eyes (and possibly hands!) on this Derek was now absolute.

"Ok, and how do you feel about that Kirsty?" I managed to get out.

"I don't know sir, kinda frightened I guess. I've never touched one before and I don't know what to expect. He says that since I'm enjoying him playing with my boobs that he should be getting some fun too, but I don't know."

"Kirsty, relationships are not like business management. It's not about a trade here, - I've done this so now you should do that. You only do what you want to do, nothing else. A relationship can be about many things, but mostly it's about mutual respect, romance, supporting each other and most of all sharing. If only one of you wants to do something then that's not sharing. Sex is only part of a relationship, an important part I'll grant you, but there's far more to it than that. Sharing joy, laughter, sorrow. Shared interests. Working together to achieve something. It can be all of these. If you ask me, Derek sounds a little shallow."

I couldn't help that last bit slipping out, I really was starting to dislike this 'Derek' and I had never met him!

"But sir. He keeps trying to touch me here."

As she said this she pulled up her grey skirt and let her middle finger run across the crotch of her lace panties. The finger clearly traced the dimple formed by her sex and I gulped as my eyes almost popped out of my head. She had done this without warning and I stared for a second before recovering, snapping my eyes away from her perfect little slit, and taking her to task.

"Kirsty, I thought we'd agreed you wouldn't do that again in class? Now cover up young lady or this conversation is at an end!"

"But sir, I only promised not to in class, and we're not really in a lesson, are we?"

Her smile was catlike, she knew I had been affected by her little display and she was pleased.

"Stop splitting hairs Kirsty. Now, behave and we can talk, keep doing things like that and we stop and I won't agree to do this again."

She appeared suitably contrite I thought.

"Sorry sir. So, are you saying I shouldn't play with him unless I really want to?"

"Exactly. I keep telling you, only do what you want to, no pressure."

"Okay. I admit I'm curious to see one and I think I do want to touch it. So, I think I'll go ahead. Is there any particular way I should touch it or hold it?" She asked.

My head was swimming. The sight of her little pantie covered sex and now the thought of her 'playing' with Derek's cock was getting to me big time and it took me a few moments before I could respond.

"Err, that's probably something you need to talk to Derek about Kirsty. Different people like different things. Remember, effective communication between you both is important. Ask him how he likes it held, what feels best for him."

I couldn't really believe I was having this conversation, felt really uncomfortable. As a teacher I should be telling her not to even think about sex at her age but as a father figure I'm sure she now knew I would try to give her sound advice. Mostly I was growing increasingly angry.

"How big will it be sir?"

"Kirsty, you're going too far now. Please, behave."

"But sir, I just want to be prepared. I don't want to make a fool of myself by not knowing what to expect."

I could see her point, after all, she had already demonstrated her preparedness with regard to her lessons and I took what she said now at face value.

"Ok, but it's not that simple. Penises come in all different shapes and sizes. I've really no idea what size Derek might be. They can range from anything around as small as four inches to a very few that might be over twelve inches."

"How big is yours sir, maybe that will give me something to work with."

I spluttered, couldn't believe that she had asked me this.

"Enough Kirsty. That's quite enough. This conversation is at an end."

"Sir, this is very important to me. If I make a fool of myself I don't think I'll ever be able to go out with a boy again."

I put a finger between my shirt collar and my neck, pulling the collar, which seemed to suddenly have become very tight. Against my better judgement I relented.

"Just over seven inches." I murmured quietly.

"Over seven inches, is that big, small or average sir?"

She said it so matter of fact and once more I was flustered. It's not comfortable talking about the size of your manhood with a young female who is quite obviously interested in you sexually while you are trying to walk a fine line in offering advice and remaining professional.

"Just above average Kirsty, now that's enough for today, no more. I want to try and help you but I'm really not comfortable with this."

She seemed to accept that she had taken things as far as she could and thanked me before almost skipping from the room.

I was left sitting alone with a welter of conflicting emotions. I knew I was both angry and jealous of Derek. I was angry too at myself for how I had reacted to seeing Kirsty's panties and at her for pushing the boundaries ever further. I was also pleased with myself for not chickening out when the going got rough, the young girl did need advice and she had no one else to turn to. And there was another emotion I couldn't quite put a name to, something that was hovering in the back of my mind.

Over the course of the next few nights I had some quite disturbing dreams in which Kirsty featured. In one I tried to save her as a faceless boy was quite clearly raping her, but failed. In another I saw myself kneeling between her legs, my mouth only inches away from her sex, but I managed to resist kissing her. I woke up sweating and berating myself. I really needed to get a grip.

The dance for the fourth years was on the night before the last day of school before the Christmas break. I turned up casually dressed and was assigned the duty of patrolling in the main school hall where the dance was taking place. There were six of us just walking round to make sure nothing untoward was going on. The drapes had been pulled over the huge windows and a disco was playing loud music, with strobe lighting flashing.

At first I couldn't pick Kirsty out, but after several circuits of the hall I spotted her. She was sitting at a table in mixed company, boys and girls. I looked each of the boys over carefully, especially the one sitting closest to Kirsty, but my eyes kept drifting back to her. She wasn't going to win the fashion stakes tonight but she did look extremely pretty to me. As I passed her table she smiled and gave me a little wave. I smiled and nodded back, not wanting to appear too familiar.

Throughout the course of the evening I watched her dance a few times, always with the same boy from the table and I assumed this was 'Derek'. He was slightly built, tall - maybe five eleven or six foot already - with straggly hair and a smart if unimaginative outfit. I could see nothing out of the ordinary about him and he behaved himself so I couldn't really complain although I dearly wanted to.