The Wednesday Club, Part 6

For three hundred years, Barchester Grammar School had been boys-only, but the 1960s were a period of rapid social change in Britain, and single-sex schools were falling out of favour. Besides, the nearest grammar school for girls was twenty miles away. It was inevitable, then, that Barchester Grammar would finally become a mixed school. There were only five girls in my class of thirty, but by the time I was in my fourth year, the new first-year intake was almost half girls.

The presence of girls naturally caused much concern to the members of the Wednesday Club. By its nature, it remained boys-only. There were one or two near misses when girls walking past the old woodwork shed accidentally saw Club meetings in progress, and the secret was only preserved by swift action by the Head Boy.

Eventually, there was an incident that almost finished the Club. It happened early in my fourth year. Wood and I were initiating a second-year boy named Edmonds. We thought we'd taken all of the necessary precautions to avoid being seen, including covering the windows of the woodwork shed with paper.

However, we'd not been careful enough. At lunch the following day, a third-year girl named Helen Cook sat next to me. She was a pretty girl with long auburn hair. It was well known that her parents had been active in the hippy movement in the 1960s, and it was rumoured that her family were nudists in the privacy of their home.

"Hello, Miller," she said. "I heard something interesting yesterday. Wendy Walker said that Kate Phillips told her that she'd seen you and Wood and a second-year boy in the woodwork shed. Kate watched you for twenty minutes through a gap in the paper you'd put over the window. Do you know what she said you were doing?"

I felt myself blushing a deep red.

"Ah, so it's true," she said, laughing quietly. "Did you know that Kate is going to tell Miss Chalmers?"

This was a disaster. The deputy headmistress had a reputation for strict discipline, and this could destroy the club. Worse, it could mean expulsion for me and Wood and Edmonds.

"Has she told Miss Chalmers yet?" I stuttered.

"I don't think so. I persuaded her that I should talk to you first, and see whether we could come to an arrangement."

"What do you mean? What sort of arrangement?"

"Well, Kate has older brothers, so she knows what a willy looks like. She even caught her brother Kevin playing with himself once, so she knew exactly what you three were up to. I suppose she wasn't as shocked as most girls might have been. But she's never seen the whole thing from start to finish, so to speak."

"She wants to watch?"

"Yes. And so do I. Tomorrow lunchtime. You and Wood and Edmonds again."

"I'm not sure what the others will say. I mean, we don't allow girls."

"Well, you can remind them that the alternative is explaining yourselves to Miss Chalmers."

Wood and Edmonds were quick to see Cook's point when I told them about our lunchtime conversation. We really had no choice, so the following day, we found ourselves in the old woodwork shed with Kate Phillips and Helen Cook.

Poor Edmonds was very nervous. After all, he'd only just been invited to join the Wednesday Club, and now he was expected to perform in front of two third-year girls. He looked as if he was going to throw up.

"Maybe it would help if we joined in?" said Cook, brightly. Wood and I exchanged puzzled glances, and Cook giggled. Then she lifted her skirt to reveal her knickers, which she lowered to her ankles and removed. She had a small bush of ginger hair, and when she lifted her left leg, placing her foot on a chair, I could clearly see her pink inner lips.

"Do you like it, Miller?" she said, smiling slyly. Then she put her hands between her legs and began rubbing herself in a slow rhythm.

Edmonds was transfixed. Wood and I both had our dicks out, and were rubbing ourselves vigorously. I nudged Edmonds, and he took out his dick, which was stiff as a rod.

Wood ejaculated very quickly, and Edmonds was close to orgasm too, when Cook began moaning loudly. That was too much for him, and he came immediately, producing a couple of small spurts which dribbled down his dick.

I was still pumping, slowing myself to delay my orgasm. Cook finally stopped stroking herself, and noticed me. She stood in front of me and lifted her skirt again so I could see her bush. Then she grinned and reached down for my dick. As soon as I felt her small, soft hand on me, I shot my load in four powerful jets, which struck her thigh and began oozing slowly down. She seemed surprised for a moment, letting go of my dick, and instinctively touching the warm semen.

"Ohh! It's sticky. I never expected that!" she exclaimed.

I handed her a wad of tissues to wipe my sperm off her leg.

"You're a real gentleman, Miller," she said, with a grin.

Kate Phillips had been watching Wood intently the whole time, and I noticed that she was now kneeling in front of him, examining his rapidly-deflating dick with interest.

"She's sweet on him, you know," Cook said to me in a low voice. "I think that's why she didn't go to Miss Chalmers."