Getting Mr. Proudfoot's Attention

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I was a final-year student at an expensive girls' school in England. As we were used to male teachers who were old, unattractive and hen-pecked, the arrival of a dreamy, young and good-looking math teacher caused a collective hormone rush in the entire school. My roommate, Pam, was really in love with him-so much so that it became a subject of mirth for the other girls, who spitefully tricked him into our room when I was away, having removed poor Pam's knickers and then strapped her arms and legs to the corners of the bed. She nearly died with embarrassment, but luckily he was a gentleman, averting his eyes from her unintended pubic display as he undid the straps, with a chorus of unseemly giggling sounding from outside. Pam's main worry was that he might think that she had engineered the incident herself, although I did not hear her complain about the extra attention she seemed to be getting from him as a result.

I admit that this rather upset me. Call me vain, but I was blonde, my face was prettier, I had much larger breasts, a slimmer waist, more rounded hips and more shapely legs than my roommate and my friendship with her did not extend to gladly being passed over in favour of her, and certainly not by a dish like him. However, it looked as though we were both being ignored. Maybe, noticing the extra attention he was lavishing on Pam, the authorities had warned him of the dangers of getting involved with students, and he had decided to put a greater distance between the the upper sixth girls and himself. Whatever the reason, Pam took it badly and resolved to appear in an EPR lesson without panties. I know this because I was continually consulted and confided to in the planning stages. I discouraged her, but when I saw the expression on his face when she parted her knees in the the classroom, it was clear that the dirty little slut had completely ignored me. I was much angrier than I expected, so I suppose that I too was in love with him, and when he was busy with the rest of the class I managed to slip my own panties off, hiding them in my basket.

EPR was a relaxed affair, and not like the other lessons. There was no exam, so the whole thing ended up more like a general chat-something that enabled one to take certain liberties. Pam was now acting quite cool, having achieved the intended effect of getting his attention, and this is when I made my move. Pulling up my skirt so that only the teacher could see my vagina, I spread my legs and started to stretch and squeeze the top of my pussy under the desk, while above the waist, apart from erect nipples and perhaps a ladylike flush, maintaining the appearance of nothing untoward. The teacher then sat down, to hide (as I now know) a raging erection. Blissfully, a marching band outside the window then distracted the rest of the class and I was discovering just how electric it was to have a man I cared about staring at me so intently. Working my clitoris to a frenzy with fingers and then knuckles, I came in ecstatic waves with my teacher regarding my genitals throughout with the most intense fascination.

Strange, then, that he should now be married to Pam. Even stranger that Pam and I stayed friends.



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