Miss Carry and Miss Kloss

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After several years of teaching science in secondary schools in England I decided to change my life and made several applications to bilingual schools around the globe. I didn’t have any particular choice about where I would go and in fact I decided that if I was offered a job I would let that be my fate and go to live wherever that might take me.

I received a handful of rejections before I was contacted by Don Borja Fernando Garcia, the principal of a bilingual sixth form college in Bogota, Columbia. There was a post available teaching science at advanced level and the students I would have in my charge would be re-sitting their university entrance exams. They would be effectively doing their final year again and consequently the students would be of adult age, the youngest of them having reached at least 19 years of age.

That I would be teaching young adults really appealed to me because older students are much easier to work with, or at least so I thought. So I accepted the post and then made plans to find my way to Bogota prior to the beginning of the new term. I decided to take in several Central American and South American countries on my way and selected Puerto Rico as a good place to begin and where I went after that I could choose at a later date.

As the school term approached I was passing time in Argentina, in Buenos Aires and it was from there that I flew to Bogota in order to keep my appointment with Don Garcia at my new school. I had taken the opportunity to shop for several new shirts that would be appropriate for the climate in my new home and these were principally of lightweight cotton and short sleeved without the long tail that is warmer for colder climates. I also took the opportunity to have my beard styled and all in all I have to say that with my broad shoulders and at 1.83m tall I presented a rather impressive handsome manly figure.

The first day of the new term was an inaugural day for the staff only and late in the afternoon I met with Don Garcia to discuss the classes that I would teach. Don Garcia made it clear that although my students were retaking their exams this didn’t relate to a lack of intelligence as all the students were apparently very bright. He told me however that several of the students had simply become distracted from their studies, perhaps he said they had chosen the wrong time to become adults as far as their studies were concerned.

In fact, he told me, the students largely female, were one could say, rather splendid examples of femininity and had received rather too much attention from boys when they should have been studying. Well I was rather intrigued and I certainly was looking forward to the following day when I would meet these apparently divine young ladies.

“It is essential to impose a sense of discipline to these wayward young souls and for this reason unlike other students of their age the board of governors has decreed that the students should remain in their school uniforms and they should not be allowed to wear their own clothes nor be bejewelled”, Don Garcia informed me.

He went on “also the students will be referred to formally as Escort Bayan Miss so and so, using their family names and not be granted the privilege of first name terms”. And indeed that I should expect them to refer to me as Mr. Martin or sir at all times.

Miss Brun, Miss Carry, Miss Kloss, Miss Portero, Miss Rodriguez and Master Fernandez were the names that I saw in front of me on the register as I sat at my desk in the laboratory awaiting the arrival of my class the following morning. It was a fine, warm September morning so then it was not surprising that my students arrived carrying their blazers. In fact it was only the five young ladies that appeared at the door of the laboratory there was no sign of Master Fernandez.

“Good morning ladies, I trust that you are all well rested following your summer vacation and looking forward to a very successful academic year. My name is Mr. Martin and I am from England and delighted to meet you all.”

In unison the five young women replied as though it were a chorus, “Yes sir, Mr. Martin.”

“You may all go and stand by your seats and please arrange yourselves in alphabetical order, when I read each of your names from my register you may be seated”, I told them.

I watched as the young ladies entered the laboratory, each was dressed identically in short red tartan skirts, black sleeveless singlets on top, white nylon knee high socks or white cotton ankle socks and black and white saddle shoes. They were indeed uniformly dressed and the only thing that caught my eye and might have been identified as jewellery was that one of the young ladies was wearing a very large chunky pink wrist watch. Clearly their underwear was unregulated as I noticed the straps of their brassieres showing from their sleeveless singlets and they were an assortment of colours and styles, pink, white and black.

And something stirred in my trousers.

Once the young ladies had entered the laboratory I made straight for my desk and sat down. Respectfully I should have remained standing with the students but the fragrance of their shower gel and that unmistakable scent of woman had caused a problem for me downstairs in my slacks and I could hardly present that to my students. I hadn’t considered that I might have that problem and I cursed that I was wearing light, flimsy boxer shorts so as to be cool since it was still summer.

“Miss Brun”. I read from my register as I noticed that the young ladies first name was Mercedes.

“Present Mr. Martin, sir”, was the reply and Miss Brun took her seat.

“Miss Carry”. Jessica Carry to be precise as I noted from my register.

“Present and correct Mr. Martin, sir”, Jessica Carry replied.

I thought that I should be the one to decide whether she was correct or not but I let that thought go and carried on with my register. I had to annotate with a nod of the head and a shifting glance that she should sit down, she seemed a little in awe of me.

“Miss Kloss”.

“Present Mr. Martin, sir”.

Miss Lara Kloss sat down, making a loud scraping sound as she dragged her chair from beneath her desk Bayan Escort and then plonked herself down equally noisily at her desk. I gave her an imposing glance only to discover that she stared back at me with equal gravity and did I imagine it or did I notice a wry smile begin to form at the corners of her full lips. I could see that this young lady might be something of a handful to say the least.

“Miss Portero”.

“Present Mr. Martin, sir”, replied Ana Portero as this seemingly shy woman took her seat, hardly making a sound.

“Miss Rodriguez”.

“Present Mr. Martin, sir”, said Marisol Rodriquez but she didn’t sit down and she went on to say. “Please sir, Jorge Fernandez has his leg broken and is not coming here at this moment”. Then she sat down and I thanked her for proffering that information.

It certainly did no harm when the indigenous people of South America met with Spanish blood some centuries ago. All these young ladies with their beautiful olive complexions were delightful to behold but without doubt the two stars of this small class were Jessica and Lara that by coincidence due to the arrangement of the desks in the laboratory came to be sat next to each other and not only that but immediately in front of my desk.

The problem I had in my trousers had not gone away. I had the intention of teaching a practical class but until my cock had settled down it was necessary for me to suggest to the girls that they began reading about the nutrient flow from the roots to the leaves of plants. I decided that I would wait until lunch time and then see what I could do about the Jehovah stiffness that I had in my pants. That is an erection that comes at an inappropriate moment and simply will not go away.

Both Jessica and Lara needed spectacles to read. Had they any idea how sexy they looked in spectacles, I have the sneaking suspicion that they did. However much I wanted to ogle these two beauties I had of course to maintain my decorum but I cannot admit to have been concentrating on the text that was in front of me because I was already having really filthy thoughts about what I might be doing with Miss Carry and Miss Kloss.

After some time reading my latest copy of ‘Nature’ magazine, an article concerning immunodeficiency, my best friend in my slacks had begun to relax a little and I thought about getting up and collecting some equipment together for a demonstration of the phenomenon of osmotic pressure but when I looked up from my magazine the sight that arrested my eyes was utterly unforgettable (even if I should live to be 149).

Jessica with her long brunette hair cascading over her shoulders had slipped her right foot from her shoe and was resting her toes beneath her transparent white nylon sock directly on top of the left foot of Lara, which was adorned in a cute little white cotton ankle sock, her shoe also discarded. What form of curious intimacy was being demonstrated between these two luscious young ladies? I was speechless and brainless.

It so happens that I have a fetish for women’s feet and to see a beautiful foot covered in nylon or cotton has Escort the equivalent effect on me as seeing a beautiful woman standing in front of me in her knickers or pantyhose.

My cock began growing and in an instant was poking skywards like a tent pole in my trousers. The demonstration of osmosis was most definitely off, although I was certainly fully disposed to demonstrate the effects of hydrostatic pressure it would not have been appropriate. I sat there mesmerised, unable to move or do anything.

Simultaneously both Lara and Jessica looked up at me and smiled. Then Lara whilst fixing me with her eyes picked up the pink and white pencil case with the little white heart motif on the side and slowly dragged open the zip fastening, took out a thick pink marker pen one uses for emphasising text, slipped it between her teeth and with a final emphatic gaze in my direction returned her eyes to the book in front of her.

Any notion that I may have had that this was going to be an easy option in comparison to teaching yobs and hooligans back in England died right there and then. I even began to shake with passion and emotion and a cold sweat came over me.

When the bell finally sounded for lunch I had to remain seated until all the young ladies had vacated the classroom and then I made my way sheepishly carrying my jacket in front of me to the door leading to the school grounds and quickly made my way through the school gates. I walked until I came across a chinese supermarket and made my way inside.

Such shops always sell everything and it didn’t take me long to locate the women’s lingerie section. As a temporary measure to deal with my embarrassing predicament I had decided to buy a woman’s girdle as such clothing for men is much more difficult to find. Their were several styles in black, white, cream and pink but I was having difficulty finding one that would fit me. Meanwhile I had become distracted having noticed some very horny little nylon ankle socks, tobimedias to give them their hispanic name, transparent but with white reinforced heel and toe and little pink kisses embroidered all over them.

My discomfort broadened when a chinese woman assistant came over to ask me if I needed help finding anything. I could only mutter that I was o.k. but later I was embarrassed again when at the check out I handed her a women’s girdle with embroidered lace panty in pink because it was the only one they had in my size.

On returning to the school I made my way straight to the staff toilets and in the toilet cubicle took off my trousers and boxer shorts and pulled my pink lacy girdle to my waist, arranged my cock and balls inside and felt a great sense of relief that the elastic material of the girdle was very resistant, capable of containing anything that those naughty students Lara and Jessica might promote in me.

Ironically that afternoon my lesson plan as dictated by the syllabus concerned elasticity, turgidity and plasticity. As I met the students outside the laboratory I couldn’t help reflect upon how they might react if they knew that their teacher Mr. Martin with his Queen’s English and his authority was actually addressing them whilst wearing a girly pink lacey article of women’s lingerie, a panty girdle made in China beneath his ‘Daks’ slacks bought at the Men’s clothing retailer, Simpsons in Piccadilly, London.

Part 1. To be continued.

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