Threesome, Talisia and Zoe know the principles of raunchy fun.
"Apparently, their uniforms are somewhere in the dunes," continued my agitated assistant principal, the officious Ms Belmont.
And she put the metaphorical boots into me as well as she added: "I told you not to enrol Talisia Grey…her previous school's record was a litany of trouble, and now you have more here."
I looked out the window for a moment.
When they built my current school, Piermont College, it was designed to improve the poorly planned and woefully placed Colleges of the previous generation. You know those awful plain brick triple-storied, inner city, small-windowed monstrosities —prisons without bars —soulless schools —the ones we all attended.
Piermont, in contrast, had it all —modern design —well, maybe too much.
There were spacious buildings, as much money had been spent on the grounds as the new classrooms and the location…well, beachside … it was ideal for outdoor recreation studies — kayaks —surfing —water safety—bronze medallions—all good community skills.
But on hot summer days—the temptation was to cut class and head for the beach, which often overtook a few of our students —usually the last class of the day. They left the grounds without permission at the lunch break, sort of intending to come back.
But the sun, beach and youth played havoc with intent, and it was hooky—wagging—skipping school or truant —all words in the face of immediate unthinking fun.
I got back to Belmont, "Where are the pair now?"
"Outside the female staff toilets. Well, they were still dripping wet, and I made them use paper towel to dry off a bit. They can't stay there; I have a delegation from the Education Department arriving in fifteen minutes for the Curriculum Review."
"Oh, send them both up here. I will ring home and get their parents in to collect them and find a spare uniform from the storeroom," and, after a pause, I added, "Yes —" I emphasised this for her, "—I will suspend them."
Belmont stalked off in triumph to round up what she saw as two reprobate miscreants and chaperon them out of the way before younger, impressionable students saw the pair in school in wet bikinis or randy senior or junior boys, for that matter, got their pictures out to the world on Instagram or God forbid the Education Department guests actually realised there were hot-blooded, brash, pleasure-seeking, vivacious eighteen-year-old, young women in our schools.
As teachers and principals —we love what school uniforms hide and keep in check. Basically, everything — bodies and desires.
Uniforms; they reduce sensual hotties to daggy a-sexual school girls.
I reviewed what had happened because it would be decision time on the two —very soon.
Talisia Grey and Zoe Clarke had gone swimming at the beach after the home group at eight-forty-five —yes a.m. —they knew the game —get your attendance ticked off and disappear.
Today was too warm already. I had loosened my tie…rolled up my shirt sleeves, and passed on a singlet this morning.
I admired the girls for sticking it to the system.
This wasn't a day to be in school. They hit the waves at nine o'clock.
The trouble was the Outdoor Ed group under Mr Jones was there too —soon after.
A phone call back to school, and Belmont was there.
No ifs or buts, corralling the hussies and force marching them, no doubt at double time, back on the school premises.
My assistant principal was perpetually afraid of failing — in loco parentis —but seriously, Ms Belmont, both girls minus their uniforms and towels.
As usual, she was overzealous by the discipline handbook controller of student behaviour.
Wow — went through my mind — I'm usually no pervert, but Talisia and Zoe were stunning as they entered my office.
I mean for nine-thirty on a Monday morning
—School and school girls ain't supposed to look like this
I had two stunning senior college girls, long hair still dripping down their skin and onto my office floor, in the skimpiest of bikinis.
Brunette Talisia had what's termed, I believe, a floral sliding triangle top. My daughter works in fashion. It had the current season's trendy frills, and it was breast-enhancing.
Talisia had beautiful boobs.
The sort of tits that make you want to see scraggy shapeless school uniforms banned on senior college girls.
Her designer piece was equally frilly, low on the hips, and barely above her mons pubis.
Our own wayward blonde Zoe, who was now under Talisia's spell, had a floral halter top bikini.
The twin pink strings of her flowery bottom piece were above her hips.
But, man, oh man, did it dip at the front.
Even at eighteen, her razor had to be exceptionally sharp, dual-bladed, no doubt, to keep this bikini line so impressive.
Yes, she was technically not naked, but effectively, she was nude to any eyes —roving up —over —or loitering with intent on her shape.
My gaze lingered.
On Monday mornings, I usually drifted through piles of paperwork.
However, it was two dots of coarse, grainy paper towel adhering to Ms Grey's exposed breast flesh that kept distracting me as I started to work through the situation with the girls.
"First, I'll get you both a uniform from the store. You need to cover up."
"But Sir," said Zoe, "Our stuff is down in the dunes—if that bitch Belmont had let us get it…"
"Now, careful, Zoe —be respectful —you were out of school without permission."
"Can we have permission to get our gear —it will be easier," said Talisia.
"No. I can't let you go out again — What size dresses do you need?"
"This isn't going to work," said Talisia, shaking her blonde locks and water sprayed in flecks as far as my face — sensually refreshing
God, was I exercising frickin control here!
But Talisia had a point, as she added, "Sir, are you supplying underwear and bras too, or do we flash Belmont commando style in the corridor? Well, Mr Watson!"
I liked the image.
I'd prefer it was me getting the eye full.
No, the storeroom and lost property didn't have knickers, or did they?
I hoped so, then reality-checked myself — it was a uniform storeroom, not a lingerie boutique.
"You can —put it over what you have on," I said
"Oh, you'd love that, Sir. Wet patches around our busts and our crotch! Are you sure, Mr Watson?" from cheeky Zoe.
Sassy, sexy school girls, they flaunt it. They know sex works with males, and it will get them everything in life.
The minxes were probing for my private erotic fantasies.
They had leant to push for and find any male weakness for sex. To find sexual chinks —the word —the look —or the move —that would unravel me from principal to mere male —reducing me to only another guy with a needy cock.
This pair knew cock, and once cock was unleashed —they were in control.
"I'll get your uniforms and undergarments from the beach. You will need to wait here."
A compromise solution, keeping me in charge. I smugly patted my thighs.
"No, hold on," said Talisia, "They are my knickers, and I don't want you fondling them. Besides, you don't know where they are, let us go," and she flashed her eyes, jiggled her titties, and the two flecks of paper towel fluttered.
I wanted to remove the paper.
I wanted to remove her bikini tops.
I wanted to bend the impudent girl over my desk and smack her cute butt, and then —
My phone rang.
I answered it.
Bob Jones at the beach told me Hal Symonds, a senior boy in his swim safety group, had found the girl's gear and was bringing it up to my office — Uniforms, towels, shoes and beach bags.
I said thanks —but thought not Hal.
I knew from the local police he had a criminal conviction for stealing washing. A polite way of saying he stole women's underwear from lines and wore them himself — and apparently wanked off in them.
If that prick jizzes over these girl's knickers —I thought —My God— try explaining that one to their parents.
I composed myself.
I rang the front office and said stop Hal there.
I would come down and get the girl's gear.
I asked the two girls to sit and wait in my office —I would bring their gear up from student administration.
I should have sat them down earlier —it gives the appearance of more control, and besides, their legs were more closed —the provocative lower bikini pieces were less explicit and eye drawing.
A bit of a pity—
Off I went with pace and returned speedily, too
Well, I didn't trust this pair.
I dropped the two beach bags at their feet, and then I informed them—
"I will close the blinds and give you time to dry and get back into your uniforms —and to be quick about it —I will be outside the door."
Talk about bizarre.
Here I was, the headmaster, pacing outside my office door, trying not to get drawn into the twitters from the other side.
Finally, it got quiet. Good, I thought. Then maybe not. What were they up to? Surely, they were not touching each other, but who knew?
A delicious image formed quickly in my mind —two young women in my office, breast fondling and starting soft and then rapid pussy touching and finger groping.
My waiting minutes eventually clocked by, and only just boner free.
"Ready," said Talisia, who poked her face around the door.
In I went —they had that nearly decent school girl look again —the stricture of uniforms taming their previous sensual skimpy clad bikini bodies.
Though their hair was still wildly wet and their eyes full of mischief.
They were both standing.
I noticed their bikini bottoms were drying on a spread-out towel —strange.
However: I wanted this over quickly —before I lost control of my pecker.
I was about to inform them it would be a phone call home, a suspension, and a short wait until their parents collected them.
Zoe knew the routine as I reached for the suspension book.
She said, "Mr Watson, Sir, maybe just wait a minute."
Then Talisia caught me off guard: "I didn't take you for a dirty old man, Sir. I mean taking our undies from our beach bags. Do you sniff them, rub your man piece on them, or cross-dress — Sir?"
I realised it was Hal —shit —shit!
I had two senior girls in uniform — but no underwear in my office.
Zoe used her butt to shut the door.
"I know Belmont wants us suspended, Sir — but you have chosen a better option —to discipline us, Sir —you are going to smack us —aren't you!" said Talisia.
The truth was it had crossed my mind —two gorgeous bikini-clad hussies in my office —it was what they needed —a good spanking on their sweet young posteriors.
Not a pat on the rump.
Not even an open hand.
Ah, my old cane in the cupboard from the long-abandoned days of corporal punishment — some nice, sexy, bare-bottomed welts.
Stay in control, I told myself.
But that moment passed.
They flipped their skirts and gave me a full frontal flash —the bitchy teases.
Then, they lay over my desk, skirts up over their backs — too much peachy butt flesh exposed for one guy.
But sometimes you rise to the task.
Butt was there
I was having it all.
Not one but two— well, actually four peachy hemispheres.
We all have those greedy, greedy moments —this one was mine.
I was excited and aroused in my pants but went about it with decorum.
A good spanking is an art form.
I gave both bubble butts a good warm polish.
Blowing on palms to warm them.
Nubile hot derrières deseve heated hands.
My were their bums smooth.
My did they — wriggle and squirm.
I commenced by giving them a short slap each on alternate buttocks —and their moans were nicely in tune.
"Ah, Sir," from Talisia.
"Ahh, Sirr," from Zoe.
Deep down, I knew I was a dirty bastard, and somehow, using my outstretched leg, I got my storage cupboard open behind them and nearly out of reach of myself. I knocked my old cane onto the floor and scraped it with my foot into range.
All the while keeping my hand slightly cupped each time I delivered their punishment.
Whack! Whack!
There was a nice smacking sound, a slight wriggling reaction to the sting, and a whole lot of soft, fleshed pleasure.
They both had those moany groans, so I knew the pressure was perfect.
"Oof, ah," from Zoe.
" Ahh, raah," from Talisia.
I had the cane in my hand.
I eased it up into their arse cracks in turn.
Prod, press and poke.
"Oi Sir, mmm," from Talisia.
Zoe added, "Oh, aah, yes."
The pair were fondling each other's breasts and tonguing each other.
I had the cane working around one arsehole and my finger the other.
"Mmm," went Zoe as my finger went in her tight crack.
"Oh, cane me, Sir," from Talisia at the same time, as I pushed the bamboo between her butt cheeks.
I hit that moment when I realised I wasn't Superman, and I had two extremely aroused females demanding attention at the same time — shit —shit —think —delegate—
"Ms Zoe, take the cane and give Ms Talisia —six of the best."
Well, did both little minxes' eyes light up?
Talisia was moaning under the cute reddish welts on her soft, round cheeks.
"Oi. oof, oohh!" at each whacking strike.
Zoe was enjoying being in charge of the cane and having her butthole fingered by me at the same time.
The excitable young Zoe nearly didn't know when to stop.
She would have gone on and on with the strokes.
I caught the swinging cane with my free hand after her six and gave the cane to Talisia.
"Ms Zoe, has been a very naughty girl in allowing the principal to finger her tight crack —Ms Talisia — Zoe needs six rapid strikes —right now."
Talisia had that near-dominatrix look and needed bringing into line.
I bent down and got my tongue into her back slot —that made it hard for her to crack the cane with any authority across Zoe's peachy cheeks.
Still, Zoe yelped, "Raah, raah," on each strike.
The moaning and groaning was dirty and continuous, and I was adding to it between each delicate deep rim of Ms Talisia's pucker slot —it was pink and alluring.
"Oh, lick her goddamn pussy out now, Talisia, "I said as I eased my cock into her tight arsehole.
The brunette writhed around like a bitch on heat.
Fuck she was adorable, and her intensity was compounded by her tongue sweeping into Zoe's shaved exposed pinkness on my desk, paperwork crumpling and scattering everywhere on the floor.
A sideshow to the real eye-popping entertainment, a young woman's pinky flapettes scrunched by a tongue and her clit given wholehearted girlfriend attention.
The dirty old prick in me wanted both arses.
Well, would this situation ever arise again —I was having the lot today.
As Zoe moaned from her climax under Talisia's tongue, I withdrew from the brunette's tight arsehole, leaving a nice puckered gape.
"Zoe, lick this bitches arsehole now."
The blonde was licking around the brunette's back hole like she was a regular there —she was blissful in her stretchy rimming and long finger probing.
I raised one of Zoe's legs relatively high and stabbed into her butthole with vigour —to let her know who was in charge of the pleasure here —who was giving it.
And no surprise —her rear hole was equally tight —but she had an eye-catching crimped inwards grooved starfish —that was so daintily pinkish pretty —indescribably attractive —it needed dick —it had my dick. It was, in this instance, a great combination.
"Ooh, ooh, yes, deeper, Sir, please, Sir, deeper," she moaned.
These two lasses' health and well-being were my full concern as an educator and disciplinarian —they needed my male protein in their cute mouths.
It was disconcerting positioning them on their knees —they seemed to know what to do —they took turns sucking my cock and licking my balls —and boy, I knew I would have enough juice to spray both of them —
Zoe got my first creamy spurt in her mouth and across her cheek.
My second jerky wad splashed across Talisia's cheek and was caught by her tongue.
I whipped my pecker back towards Zoe —but my cum was spattering everywhere on both their hot muffiny tits.
Thank god they had their towels for a cleanup.
Their now dry bikini bottoms were eased up their thighs provocatively and gave their girly treasures a much-needed rest.
Their sporty bras and school dresses were finally back in place —my office and school were reasserting a degree of conformity.
However, the two hussies stuffed their bags quickly and were strolling out of my office when I said:
"Now, wait a minute. We have to go through the motions. Principal's discretion —otherwise, Belmont will call your parents, and so on... Let's say afterschool detentions supervised by me —for the rest of the week."
I had to reassert my principal role and hopefully take the opportunity to fuck their sweet pussies at least once on detention.
"Mmm," said Talisia, "Only if you're wearing my panties tomorrow afternoon."
"And mine on Wednesday, "added the blonde.
"And you bring two vibrators on Thursday," from the brunette.
"And on Friday —let's all unwind that tight arse Belmont," and Zoe meant it.
The blonde gave me a peck on the cheek.
Talisia gave my butt a soft slap —and off they went —God, I thought —hopefully, they go to class.
I shut my office door, put up the do not disturb sign — fuck tidying up —it looked like my office had been ransacked.
I was on the phone with Bob at the beach.
"Bob, send that wretched, good-for-nothing Hal Symonds to my office immediately—"
I calmed down and tidied my office, waiting for Hal.
I cleared my frickin desk — the expansive polished surface had a job tomorrow afternoon.
Of course, the debauched Hal confessed, and we collected the girl's jizzed stained panties from his locker.
I gave him an unprofessional clip behind the ear and sent him on his way.
And if you think my day had been surreal —there I was in the principal's restroom —rinsing out Zoe's and Talisia's frilly scanty panties.
—and realising I wasn't in control at all —as I schemed to get Belmont into my office Friday afternoon.