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Subject: {Dave Wallis} "Diary Of A Student Teacher - Feb 20th 1998" ( MF con 
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{Dave Wallis} "Diary Of A Student Teacher - Feb 20th 1998" ( MF con exhib
coll ) [Part 1] *

WARNINGS

This story contains graphic scenes of a sexual nature. If this offends you,
or if your national or local laws do not allow you to read such things,
please leave now.

All characters in this story are fictitious and any resemblance to real
persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. I am not even the same age,
sex or profession as the main protagonist.

This first chapter is fairly mild. It contains MF sex between two consenting
adults in a college setting. Also some female exhibitionism.

Comments and criticisms are welcome at my e-mail address
foxwell23@hotmail.com (Dave Wallis). And if you have any personal fantasies
or scenarios that you would like me to consider including in later chapters
they are also welcome.

This story may be reproduced, providing it is on a non-profit-making basis,
and that the text is reproduced in its entirety, with these warnings intact.
You will take responsibility for ensuring that it does not fall into the
hands of minors, I cannot take responsibility for that. Also, if you do want
to reproduce it for public view, please have the courtesy to let me know
about it.

DIARY OF A STUDENT TEACHER

BY BECKY FOXWELL

FRIDAY 20TH FEBRUARY 1998

Well, I think today really is the first day of the rest of my life. So I've
decided that this will be the day I finally start writing a diary again. I
used to be pretty good at keeping a diary when I was younger - I've still got
some of those embarrassing angst-ridden scrawlings from my mid-teens.

But now, at 22, I'm on the threshold of a new career. Next week is the start
of my final teaching practice. After that, its just my exams to go and then
I'm qualified!

So... Where to begin?

I got up pretty early this morning. I had to see Richard Burns at 10:00. He's
managed to swing it so that he will be my Maths supervisor on the practice
(He says that it is just coincidence that he was assigned to me - but I very
much doubt that!). Anyway, I got up, made myself a coffee and printed off my
schemes of work & lesson plans for the weeks ahead. I then lay on the couch
in my shortie nightie, whilst I flicked back through them. Although I was
pretty sure even then that they were not what Dr Burns really wanted to see.

I heard Judy's door click open and her heavy footsteps on the floorboards.

"Girl, put it away", said Judy, coming into the living room.

"Hmmm?"

Judy waved vaguely at my nightie, which had ridden up to my pubes.

"Oh, sorry". I pulled the hem down a bit, just as Judy's door clicked again
and an embarrassed looking lad called Jason shambled in.

They made quite a combination. Judy is tall, black, statuesque and
beautifully turned out. Even in her dressing gown, she won't emerge from her
bedroom until she has spent at least half an hour getting the first part of
her make up done. I'd heard Judy moving around in her room whilst I'd been
getting my coffee.

Jason, by comparison, was probably still semi-comatose until a few seconds
before he emerged. He was lanky and awkward, with a bum-fluff beard typical
of most male students who don't bother with their looks - or personal
hygiene. Next to Judy's dark ebony skin, his white flesh looked pale and
insipid. I guessed Judy had picked him up at the Students Union disco last
night.

I have to say that I wouldn't have looked at him twice, but then I have
always gone for older men. Judy always comes home with boys who seem way
below her in class. But judging by the banging of the headboard and the
shrieks from Judy that kept me up until two last night, I guess that there is
more to Jason than meets the eye. But it didn't seem like it this morning, as
I watched him shamble after Judy to the kitchen.

I figured that it was about time that I got dressed to go out. I like to
dress smartly, but as this was to be almost my last day of scruffing around
like a student before I *had* to look smart, I decided not to over do it. In
the end my clothes were a trade off within a number of limiting factors,
trying to be as pragmatic as possible.

I put on a pale sweatshirt, because the weather was not catastrophic, but
definitely on the dull side. I put on some dark stockings, with sexy black
sussies and a short dark skirt, but no knickers.

Now I don't want to sound like a tart, so maybe I should explain some of my
attire. There is quite an innocent excuse for the stockings & suspenders. Its
because I suffer dreadfully from rashes on the tops of my thighs when I wear
tights, especially when I'm cycling. As I say, the weather today was dull &
my *dark* stockings are the thickest and (ergo) the warmest. As for the sexy
black suspenders... well, they had to match the stockings, and have you ever
seen black suspenders that aren't sexy?

The skirt was again a trade off. It was not a mini-skirt because as I say, I
was cycling and wearing no knickers and even I am not that brazen. But it was
short, for Richard Burns benefit. The no-knickers thing might be slightly
harder to explain. That was also for Richard Burns' benefit, but... Okay,
maybe I *am* a tart. But I did round it all off with a pair of sensible shoes.

At twenty to ten I said goodbye to Judy & Jason, now snuggled up on the couch
eating cereal & watching children's television. Judy promised to video
Teletubbies for me.

When I got outside, I began to regret my choice of clothing. It was a cooler
morning than I had anticipated and the wind was whistling around my nether
regions. I wheeled my bike out from the back and tied on the cloth seat cover
- designed not to protect the saddle, but to give my poor chilled pussy
something warm to rest on.

As I cycled off to the college, I took a perverse pleasure in the stares from
the men that I passed on my way. As with all girl cyclists they were watching
my short skirt flare out from my saddle, hoping for a glimpse of something
forbidden. Many of them must see that I wear stockings & so stare all the
harder. This morning I had the added thrill of my knickerless state and I
glowed with a wicked flush at the thought that at any moment the wind could
catch my skirt and give those blokes a bit more than they bargained for.

I got to Richard Burns office just before 10:00. I smiled at Nicky, the
department secretary.

"Hi, I've got an appointment to see Dr Burns at 10:00".

"Oh, yes. I think he's free now. Just go in".

I smiled again and knocked quickly on Richard's door, before going in.

In his office, we were very business like. Odd as we both knew what was
coming. I undid my briefcase & handed over my final schemes of work for
Richard's approval, even though they were barely changed from the most recent
drafts that he had already seen. As he took them from me I leaned back in my
chair, lifting my leg slightly so that my skirt slid back to reveal my
stocking tops and perhaps a little bit more.

Richard pretended to look carefully at my work. But he made several obvious
glances at my suspender-clad thighs. I smiled back at him, noticing that the
picture of his family which usually graced his desk was missing, tucked
carefully away into some drawer or other. I recrossed my legs.

"Becky..."

"Hmmm?"

"Would you mind sitting round here. I want us to go through this together."

"Of course". I got up from my seat and sat down next to him. Again I leaned
back in my seat, but this time I did not cross my legs and demurely tugged
them hem of my skirt down a little.

Richard asked me various questions about what I had written and I made a play
of leaning across him to look closely at my work. I turned to explain my
answer, our faces just inches apart. Richard was having difficulty framing
his question as he shuffled awkwardly in his seat.

He pulled a booklet from the far side of his desk and opened it for me. I
leaned further forward again to examine it, pretended lean too far and
grabbed at his leg for support. Pretending to be flustered, I grabbed at his
crotch to push myself up, feeling the rock hardness beneath.

"Oh Richard, I'm sorry, I must have slipped".

"Thats quite alright Becky," Richard smiled breathlessly.

Our faces were again just inches apart. They moved closer, our lips opened,
and soon we were kissing. The kiss became more intense and I moved my hand
back to Richard's crotch, it was obviously deliberate this time, with no
pretense. I felt the rock hard maleness bursting to escape from the
unyielding cloth of his trousers.

I carefully unzipped him and rummaged inside, seeking access to the engorged
member. Fortunately, Richard had also dressed for sex, because despite his
age (early fifties, I think!), he was wearing boxers. I slipped my hand into
the opening and pulled out the treasures within. With his big balls and rigid
dick sitting on his lap, I began to stroke and fondle them, hoping to kindle
their lustful desire into unbearable need.

Then I got up again from my seat and moved to sit astride Richard. As I did
so, I placed the lips of my hot & flustered pussy over the engorged tip of
his penis. Slowly I eased his male meat into my body, bit by bit, and
steadily I began to slide up & down his rigid pole.

And that is how we continued. Richard & I almost never get undressed for sex.
We giggled together, hoping that this would somehow hide our grunts of
passion from Nicky. Richard's manhood slid into me quite easily this morning.
I guess that is not too surprising, when you consider that I had been ready
for sex since about 7am.

I gripped the underside of his chair with my legs and started drive
determinedly up and down, up and down on his still solid meat. He was
breathing fast now, trying to hold back his orgasm. I was on fire, my clit
engorged and my tits itching beneath the fabric of my sweatshirt.

Finally, my orgasm hit me and I bit into Richard's mouth to stop myself from
crying out, as it rippled through me. That was Richard's signal to release
his seed, which he did with a gasp. Breathlessly, we tried to regain our
composure, and then collapsed, giggling together like schoolchildren at the
forbiddeness of what we were doing.

Finally, Richard helped me to lift myself from his impaling weapon (because
my legs had turned to jelly!). We wiped ourselves off with some tissues that
he had ready, and then (bizarrely enough!) we went through the remainder of
my lesson plans, almost as if nothing had happened.

When I finally left his office, I smiled somewhat wanly at Nicky, half afraid
(and half excited) that she knew what was going on. I walked with my legs
very close together, terrified that some incriminating glob of sperm was
going to start sliding down my leg. Stupidly, I had forgotten to pack a spare
set of knickers to put on after our little encounter.

So, my first port of call was the toilet, where I could finish cleaning
myself out (men don't have anything like our problems!).

After that, I went over to the library, to check on the availability of some
resources, then I wondered off across town to do some shopping.

The weather brightened up for a while in the mid-afternoon. In fact, I almost
forgot my knickerless state, until I had almost returned to where I'd left my
bike.

There were some men working down at ground level on the drains & as they
started whistling at me, I suddenly realised that they could see more than
they should. I ran off round the corner in flustered embarrassment.

But as I unlocked my bike, I regain my composure again. I hitched my skirt up
to my upper thighs and then deliberately cycled back past the workmen. I wolf
whistled them as I went by, then sat up in my seat, swinging my hips & mooned
them.

They stood frozen for a moment (except one, who I am sure fell back down his
manhole in shock). Then two of them, deciding that their luck must be in,
started running after me. I moved up a gear and left them behind.

The wind was getting up and it was beginning to get colder as I came home.
Jason was gone & Judy was reading a book.

Neither of us felt like going to the Students Union tonight, so we cuddled up
on the couch together, to watch The Simpsons & something about toy robots
fighting each other.

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