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A Thrilling Swiss Enlightenment

((Authors Note -- just taking a break from my Batgirl series. This story came to mind a few months ago so I thought that I'd share it with you. I hope that you like it.

Always happy to hear what you think -- please comment if you'd like to.

Please note that I posted this originally under the wrong category - my mistake (slapped wrist!) so I've resubmitted it into its correct slot - hope that doesn't confuse anyone.

Now, back to resurrecting Batgirl from a fate worse than .........!

Duke))


Title - A Thrilling Swiss Enlightenment

It was just a strange co-incidence.

I'd finished a business appointment early and was at a bit of a loose end prior to meeting up with a close friend. I'd dithered for a few minutes outside South Kensington Underground Station wondering whether to walk up the Brompton Road and dash into Harrods for half an hour or so. I'd paused when I hit the warm, dusty outside world though because, frankly, if I'd got in there I'd probably have ended up being late and my credit card would have looked distinctly the worse for wear yet again!

It was late September, 1995 in London. Despite being born and brought up in the country, I'd lived there for a large part of my fifty three years and a quick glance at the warm, sunny sky hadn't fooled me. I could see clouds building up to the West already and the feel of the breeze picking up on my cheeks and wafting at my light, summery dress told me better than any Met Office weatherman that it would soon be umbrella time again!

So that ruled out a walk in Hyde Park as well. I'd considered the Museums for a moment, but the Science Museum had never attracted me, I knew the V&A inside out and the Natural History Museum was too full of painful memories. That had settled it then. I'd decided to go straight to the nearby little Italian coffee house where my friend and I regularly met with the intention of enjoying a few of Luigi's special cappuccinos and maybe a piece of illegal (for me!) tiramisu. After all, nobody would know!

The coffee shop was hidden down a back street, a delightful old place, full of wooden panelling, ancient chairs and tables and dominated by the silver monster behind the bar where Luigi had been dispensing his expressos and home-made cakes for longer than I cared to think. He was a gregarious old man, full of bubbling chatter that he showered over his customers like a mother hen. As I'd crossed the threshold, he'd spotted me instantly waving brightly as he dealt with another customer.

"Ciao Signora Parsons, you 'maka' my day again!"

It was like being part of a large family!

"Ciao Luigi," I'd replied with a little more English reserve, "Capuccino and one of your special cakes please."

I pointed to a small table in the corner with a window view, I hadn't needed to say what type of cake. It had been like a standing order when I was alone!

As I'd crossed the room, I'd picked up one of the newspapers that Luigi liked to scatter across the room, throwing it casually onto the table while I sat down and settled myself to wait for the coffee. Then, as I'd reached forward to pick it up I'd frozen. There had been something familiar about the black and white picture of the man looking back at me. In the end it had been the fact that the newspaper was open at the obituaries page that had really hit me.

-------------------***************----------------

'Monsieur Bertrand Pascale -- Renowned French Novelist and Playright'

Apparently he'd died of a stroke three days ago, on 25th September 1995, aged 65 years and leaving a wife and six children. I'd shaken my head a little at the thought. Amazing! How had he found the time!

Even more amazing, since I'd not even seen the man for over thirty years, I'd found that a drop of moisture had materialised in the corner of my eye.

Then, with eyes focussed somewhere between the iron railings outside and Outer Mongolia, my mind had gone tumbling back to Switzerland in that magical Winter/Spring of 1964/5.

I'd been enrolled by my father in the Institut Chateau Briaxand, a small and exclusive 'Finishing School' for young ladies. I suspect that it was because he didn't know what else to do with me. He was a career officer in the British Army and, although he doted on me he was always somewhat correct and 'distant'. The warmth in my family had come from my mother, but that had been ripped away from me when she was killed in a car accident when I was fifteen. Since then I'd spent most of my time in a minor English boarding school, where I'd achieved surprisingly good academic results.

When I'd come home that final Summer in 1964, a somewhat naive eighteen-year-old and full of hope for a career somewhere, but not quite sure exactly where, my father had stunned my by announcing that I was going away for a further year to be 'finished'. I was far too well-mannered to complain, and after all it would be a year spent in the Swiss Alps, but I wasn't overwhelmingly enthusiastic, especially when I read the brochure and saw the emphasis on etiquette, table arrangements, flower displays and guest and household management!

A 'Finishing School' wasn't that unusual in those days, but it was normally for young women a little above my station in life. I'd wondered where my father had got the money, and was a little disappointed that I was being 'packed off' again just when I was hoping to get closer to him. Later I found out that he'd served abroad with the brother of one of the owners. An early example to me of the power of 'networking'!

-------------------***************----------------

So, there I was in the Autumn of 1964, one 'young lady' amongst twenty eight others settling into an absolutely divine looking Swiss chateaux. It was a large, white stoned structure, full of interesting nooks and crannies with those marvellous conical grey slated towers so common among that type of building. It was set into a steep hillside overlooking a small lake and surrounded by large bright green grassy grounds with little copses of firs and rhododendron bushes dotted almost haphazardly around it. The air was so fresh and clean that it felt like another planet after a few months in hazy London.

I fell in love with the place immediately and soon set aside my feelings of disquiet as I realised that I wasn't going to 'fit in' with the other girls very quickly. It was a problem that I'd had all my life. It takes me a long time to build close relationships, and although friendly enough, I was instinctively wary of the little cliques that the other girls seemed to naturally fall into. It was also probably because I'd actually felt a little inferior. I'm amazed now, looking back, that I could possibly have felt that way, but among my 'class-mates' had been a couple of minor European royal princesses, a whole bundle of 'Lady' this and that and some foreign girls with titles that I'd never heard of!

It was why, on that particular Sunday afternoon in early October, I'd decided to settle down with a book to read on my own, whilst also soaking up some of the bright sunshine that was fortunately still keeping us warm in something of an 'Indian Summer'. I'd found a secluded spot in the grounds away from the main building to lie down on the grass and open my book. It was a piece of literature that our French professor, a dapper young man that I'd guessed to be in his early thirties had let one of the other girls have. It was now doing the rounds after news of its shocking content had spread amongst us like wildfire. It was called 'Les Liaisons Dangeroux' and I'd been eager to find out if the rumours were true, as well as to improve my French of course!

But I'd only been reading for just a few minutes though when I heard the sound of footsteps on a path behind a bush that was shielding me from the chateaux. I was about to shut the book in case it turned out to be one of the staff, when one of the girl's came into view. It was Charlotte, a tall, statuesque young woman who, despite her name, came from a long established Hertfordshire family. Her long blonde hair was piled up on her head and she was dressed in a simple cream blouse, wide brown belt and sweeping beige skirt that swirled around her knees as she kept turning to look behind her, as if she was being followed.

It was this repeated turning round and looking over her shoulder that had attracted my attention. She clearly hadn't seen me behind the bush, and I was partly hidden by a small hillock as she descended further down the path. It was intriguing. Who could she be hiding from? The sense of intrigue increased still further when I watched her reach the bottom of the hill where a grounds-man's wooden hut stood in the shade of some tall pines. She stopped, looking around even more warily, before pulling open the door and stepping in. How positively mysterious? Charlotte wasn't unkind, but she was so full of herself and her 'position' in life, that the thought of her suddenly taking an interest in gardening had made me chuckle in disbelief!

After she'd disappeared into the hut, I'd watched for a few minutes but she didn't re-appear, so I'd turned back to my book, only to find that I couldn't now concentrate on classic French literature whilst my mind was constantly wondering what Charlotte could possibly be up to. In the end I'd given in to my curiosity and had closed my book and sauntered down the hillside to the hut. I'd convinced myself that I needed to check that she was alright, but actually I just couldn't resist a bit of a mystery.

When I got there I'd heard muffled sounds from inside, but nothing intelligible, so I went round the side to where I'd known that there was a window. I'd been in two minds whether to take a peak. It was a contest between my sensible 'don't intrude' side and my emotional, "I wonder what she's up to?" side. It was no contest as I'd glanced round to see if anyone else was watching before peaking into the inside and freezing, wide eyed, in my tracks!

Charlotte had been in there all right. She'd had her arms around a man and was kissing him furiously, her hands running over his shoulders and through his short dark hair. It was the identity of the man that had frozen me to the spot though. It had been none other than our young French professor, and he had been kissing Charlotte back just as enthusiastically, his lips working hard against hers.

I'd known that I should have turned and walked away, but when he'd pulled back a little and his small fingers began to unbutton Charlotte's blouse, my mouth had opened wider and my feet had stayed still! It had taken him just seconds to ease open each of the small, pearl buttons and to spread apart the soft blouse, displaying a rather cute, creamy lace half-cup bra. It was so much nicer than anything I had possessed at that time that I'd been gripped by a moment's jealousy, especially as it had seemed solely designed to make the most of Charlotte's modest breasts, pushing them together to create a dreamy piece of cleavage. Our French professor had not been slow to notice either as his hand had quickly covered the delicate material and began to gently caress the rounded orb. The effect on Charlotte had been electric as she'd stiffened in his arms and begun to kiss him even harder.

This had only lasted for a few minutes as, impatiently, his hand had slid round, under the gaping blouse to find her bra fastening. I'd watched in almost disbelief at how quickly the fingers had done their job, releasing the bra and urgently pushing it up and away from her pert breasts.

He'd immediately pulled away from her embrace a little so that he could admire her firm breasts, each one tipped by a long, pink nipple standing proud and surrounded by small rings of brown. Almost in slow-motion his hand had crept forward to cup the taut flesh, his finger and thumb closing around the erect nipple. Charlotte's head had shot back and her mouth opened in a silent gasp as she'd felt the electric response from her sensitive nipple. I still hadn't been able to move, hypnotised almost be the sensuality of it all.

His head had now bent down to her bosom, so that his lips and tongue could capture the other nipple and begin to arouse Charlotte even more. For a few confused moments, I'd felt my own nipples responding to the same imagined touch. It had been incredibly confusing for me.

Things had now been getting more urgent as I watched his hand leave her breast, and run quickly down her side, tracing a path around her hips, down her legs and then disappearing under her skirt at her knees. It hadn't stayed there long! Smoothly he'd begun to draw it up the inside of her thigh, lifting her skirt with it until the tops of her tan stockings came into view. He'd paused there for a few seconds whilst his fingers had traced around the bare flesh above her stocking tops. Charlotte arms were now wrapped tightly around his shoulders, her eyes closed as if in pain. I'd suddenly realised that I'd stopped breathing and let out a long gasp myself as I watched him massage the bare flesh of her inner thighs. Charlotte had opened her legs a little to make his exploration that much easier, and my attention had been absolutely riveted on his hand as I watch it rise again, heading inexorably towards her pussy.

As her skirt had lifted higher, I'd seen that she was wearing some matching cream and lacy edged cami-knickers. I'd wondered later if that was intentional on Charlotte's part as the lack of any elastic had made it so easy for his fingers to slip inside the shiny material and begin to move around her pussy. As the fingers had disappeared out of sight I'd only been able to imagine how they must feel as they caressed and explored between her legs. Charlotte's grimace had deepened in response. If I hadn't have known better, I'd have sworn that she really was in pain, but the way that his fingers moved inside the soft knickers didn't look in the least threatening. It had just looked incredibly exciting and I had been dismayed to feel a matching tingle from my own pussy as I'd imagined what those fingers must feel like!

It had seemed that I wasn't the only one getting excited though. With a sudden burst of energy, he'd pulled back, stooping to lift up her skirt and slip and lifting them high so that he could tuck them under her brown belt over her belly. Charlotte's long, stocking clad legs and cream cami-knickers were now fully exposed. I'd had to admit that Charlotte did look gorgeous and sexy. He'd said something to her and she'd smiled, almost shyly. It had obviously been a compliment of some kind.

He'd stopped to kiss her again, his hands at her waist as their lips worked hard at each other. They'd both looked breathless when they'd pulled apart. It had looked as though he'd asked her something, and she'd nodded back urgently. He'd stooped down again as his fingers found the waistband of her knickers and he'd smoothly drawn them down, exposing Charlottes neat little triangle of blonde, curly hair, and the glistening dark slit below it. It was framed neatly by the stockings and suspenders dangling down from her waist.

Suddenly I'd been embarrassed. Surely I had to step away now? But I couldn't and hadn't. I'd become mesmerised by the erotic scene developing in front of me. I may have been blushing as I'd watched him drag the knickers over her ankles, and the tingling between my legs had developed into a pleasant little throbbing, but I could no more move away than stop breathing.

As he'd stood up again, Charlotte's hands had dropped to his waist and begun to unbuckle his belt. His hand had cupped her pussy mound and I'd watched in amazement as his fingers slipped between her wet labia lips and began to wriggle between them. The effect on Charlotte was electric as she simply froze, her hands gripping his belt and throwing her head back again, mouthing words that I couldn't hear. Soon though, her fingers had gone urgently back into action as she'd pulled open his belt, opened some buttons on his fly and started to drag down his trousers.

His white pants had quickly followed suit and I'd watched Charlottes face lighten up as she'd looked down and seen the big erection that she'd released. Her eyes had gone almost animal like as she'd hungrily devoured him, her hand grasping hold of his hot, rigid flesh. I had been getting a bit frustrated at this point because he'd turned his back to me and I'd lost sight of what was now the total focus of Charlotte's heated attention. It had been so annoying!

I hadn't been disappointed for long though. His hand had dipped hastily into one of his pockets before his trousers had descended to his ankles, and come out with a little silver packet. Charlotte had now been almost out of control though as she grabbed the little packet and ripped it open. He'd been laughing I think as she'd pulled out the condom and grasped his cock again. Fortunately for me she'd twisted him round a bit and I'd had a grandstand view as she'd slipped the head of the condom over the tip of his big cock and began to draw it urgently down it's impressive length.

It had all begun to happen fast now as he'd pushed Charlotte back against the workbench, lifting her bottom slightly so that she'd been perched on the edge. She'd dragged her legs out wide, opening her slit even further to welcome him into her, and he'd obliged immediately, standing between her splayed legs and driving his hardness straight into her. Even from outside I'd heard her cry of satisfaction as he'd filled her.

Then he'd slipped his hands around her bottom and he was pulling her back onto him, making sure he'd penetrated her as deeply as he could before his hips had begun to thrust rhythmically back and forward. Charlottes head had dropped onto his shoulder, her arms wrapped around him, but as the thrusts seemed to get became harder and deeper her head went back again, her eyes tightly shut as she concentrated on the heavenly feelings radiating out from between her legs. I knew that my mouth was open as I watched that magnetic scene unfold and I'd had to force my hands to my side as they'd drifted towards the increasingly hot spot between my own legs.

When Charlotte had finally gone rigid, and he'd powered into her for one last time before collapsing against her, I'd stopped breathing again. It was the first time that I'd seen two people having sex, and the emotions that had filled me had been bewildering!

Finally, as their lips had met again, more gently this time, I'd found the willpower to break the spell and turn away from that totally erotic sight. I'd stumbled almost directionless away from the hut, doing my best to rationalise what had been an unforgettably disturbing experience.

-------------------***************----------------

The problem had been that my previous exposure to the pleasures of the flesh had been distinctly limited. At school the other girls had often talked about what they'd done with boys, especially in our senior years, but I'd put a lot of that down to bragging as opportunities in a girls-only school were distinctly limited. Being a bit of a shy soul, and a little scared to experiment, I'd managed to get through school a virgin. I'd had one or two encounters with boys, but nothing had gone beyond the fumbling and groping stage. I'd known all about the biological mechanics of sex, but that didn't make it appeal much in itself and coming from a rather puritan family, I hadn't felt encouraged to explore my boundaries, either with or without a partner!

Now I'd actually watched two people do it! And, ashamed as I'd been at the time, I'd felt excited and my own body had reacted in ways that had been quite unsettling. I'd disguised those feelings by building up some anger. After all, wasn't our French professor abusing his position by making love to one of his pupils? I'd even considered taking the matter to Miss Hendricks, our dour and aged headmistress. But when I'd recalled the look on Charlotte's face as she'd let him make love to her, I'd known deep down that there was no force involved and I'd have had no ally there, probably the opposite! She'd enjoyed every minute of it!
During the next few weeks though I'd taken more notice of our French professor's movements, and I'd been shocked to realise that he seemed to be very familiar with a number of the other girls, certainly not just Charlotte. It was the way that they glanced and smiled at whispered conversations, little touches on arms and shoulders that were not scandalous in themselves, but more than pure teacher and student relationships. I'd become appalled. Was there no end to his indiscretions?

In the end, before Christmas, I'd been forced to share my suspicions with another girl.

As usual it had taken me a few months to really get to know my fellow students and one in particular, Alicia, had become quite close. We'd been thrown together on a cooking project, and I'd immediately liked her open, bubbly nature. She was tall, well built and with a modern, short black hair style. I'd been rather surprised when she'd started asking about me and my family and within minutes she seemed to know almost everything about me. I think that she'd seen in me someone reliable and trustworthy. Not necessarily traits shared equally across all the girls!

Anyway, when we'd got together one rainy day to decide about Christmas presents, she'd raised the question of whether to get anything for the staff.

I'd smiled to myself and said, "Well definitely not for Professor Pascale!"

"But why-ever not?" she'd queried, a puzzled look flashing across her face.

For some reason, probably because I'd been keeping the secret for so long, I'd told Alicia all about that afternoon in the woodshed.

I'd expected her to be scandalised, but she'd rocked back in her chair and laughed uproariously. In between sobs of laughter she'd gasped, "So that's where Charlotte takes him! How amazingly uncomfortable!" She'd continued laughing at the thought.

Then she'd been laughing at me. My shocked expression, my mouth open in silent surprise.

"Oh Mary, you really don't know about him do you?!"

That was when she'd explained about our French professor's 'little arrangements'.

It seemed that he was having relationships with over half the girls on the course! Alicia hadn't been sure of the exact numbers, but she'd seemed very sure of the estimate. Basically he was 'offering' the girls the opportunity to 'explore their sexuality' with him! Apparently his only 'rule' was that there was no emotional involvement. Just good old fashioned sex it seemed, and plenty of it! The way that she'd explained it, it was like an optional addition to the school curriculum!

Alicia had gone on to say that there were so many girls taking advantage of the opportunity to explore sex in this relatively harmless way that the poor man had had to start issuing 'appointments' in advance. Each girl was given a time slot and the responsibility of finding a suitable little 'love-nest'. It had appeared that the good professor didn't 'entertain' in his rooms. Not surprising when I'd thought about it as he was on the same floor of the chateau as the redoubtable Miss Hendricks!

Then it had occurred to me that Alicia seemed to know a whole lot more about these nefarious activities than a casual observer should. The penny had dropped!

"My God Alicia," I'd gasped in shock again, "You're ..................you're involved with him as well aren't you!"

"Well, it really is too good an opportunity to turn down Mary," she'd replied with a slightly shy smile before she'd continued ".....and he's really very, very good. I've learned so much already!"

I'd been struck speechless. It had been almost like she'd turned into a salesman for our French Lothario!

That conversation had gone on for a while. Despite Alicia's enthusiasm, I hadn't been able to bring myself to see it as anything other than a teacher taking advantage of his students. My 'proper' upbringing was squelching any pin-pricks of interest that the conversation was starting up in my youthful body, so in the end we'd agreed to disagree, Alicia's parting comment being that it was me, ME!, who was missing out on the fun!

-------------------***************----------------

So Christmas had come and gone.

I'd been home for a couple of weeks, seen all manner of relatives and friends and enjoyed myself enormously. Everyone had been keen to know all about the Swiss Chateau and all my new student friends. Some of the girls were well known in London society and I was pressed hard for any interesting gossip, but I'd stayed tight lipped about the one big 'scandal' that I actually did know something about! It really would have been 'bad form' in a big way to be so indiscreet, and I'd still not really come to terms with what was going on.

It had come as a big surprise after that conversation with Alicia that I'd had a few dreams about our French professor, and they hadn't all been entirely 'proper' either. Once or twice I'd woken up feeling distinctly hot and flustered with my hands straying over areas of my body that were responding in a very, for me, uncomfortably new and exciting way.

In the end I'd been quite glad to get back to my new friends. My friendship with Alicia had deepened and as a result I'd finally been invited into her circle of friends too, which was most of the class given Alicia's bubbly, open personality. I'd also been happy to get back because, later in January, the school had booked a couple of large chalets in one of my favourite ski resorts, Grindlewald, and I'd been keen to get some skis on. My father had taken me regularly to the French or Swiss alps to ski when I'd been growing up and I'd quickly become proficient. I just loved the feeling of gliding down the long pistes, usually in bright sunshine, and the cold air swirling refreshingly past my face.

Pretty much the whole school had decamped in local, rather dubious looking buses up to the chalets. It had been classed as 'educational recreation' in the curriculum, but even though skiing was a useful skill to have in European society at the time, I suspect that the fortnight away had been largely to allow some of the senior staff, who'd all turned out to be experts on the slopes, a chance to brush up their skills.

I think that, secretly, I'd also looked forward to showing off a bit in front of the other girls, some of whom would be strapping on skis for the first time. I could remember how ungainly I'd felt at first trying to manoeuvre the long alpine skis around and there were a couple of girls in particular that I was looking forward to seeing in a little discomfort. I'd been a little ashamed of those thoughts, but not for long, as the whole class had dissolved into laughter as the insufferable Susan Brightman had clipped her boots onto the skis for the first time, stood up and then slowly keeled over sideways back onto the snow outside of the chalet. It had been priceless!

We'd been enjoying the fresh air and beautiful scenery of the Bernese Oberland under the towering Eiger and Jungfrau mountains for almost a week when it happened.

I can remember to this day the scream of pain that the Contessa Christina, our minor Italian royal, had let out as she took a tumble just as we'd reached the our chalet after a good day on the slopes. She'd been helped up and into the old wooden building and her painful ankle later examined by the school doctor who'd pronounced a sprain and a few days rest from the slopes. Christina, she'd not liked us using her title, had said that she'd be fine though but had grimaced as she'd tentatively tried to put weight on her foot. Then she'd shaken her head, her long auburn hair tumbling around her round face as she'd agreed that she'd need time to rest it.

Hence, the following day, we'd all waved her goodbye as we'd trooped off and offered our sympathy that she'd be on her own. She'd hopped to the door and seen us off though as we headed for the ski lift, brandishing a book that she'd intended to read in front of the roaring log fire.

An hour later I'd been thinking about her as I'd done my first run down the slopes. It was a black route, technical, tight and steep that had stretched even me as there'd been some early morning ice to spice things up a bit. I'd also realised as I passed through shady areas that I'd forgotten my red woolly pom-pom hat, so when I'd reached the little ski lift station, I'd changed direction back to the chalet to retrieve my head warmer and cheer up Christina.

To my surprise, there'd been no-one in the main lounge when I'd stumbled in. I'd smiled as I'd wondered if the Contessa had gone off to have a laze in bad as I'd crossed the big room, fire burning cheerfully, to the cloakroom set in one corner where I retrieved my missing head gear. Then I'd been surprised to hear voices in the corridor leading to the bedrooms. I'd quickly recognised Christina's excited, expressive voice but there was another as well, lower and less distinct. My eyebrows had narrowed as I'd realised that it was a male voice.

Then the door had opened and two figures had tumbled in, both in dressing gowns. Christina had been in the lead, dragging a more reluctant figure along behind her. She was wearing a silky, ivory white dressing gown with a big pink and red dragon embroidered up the back. It came to her knees and below that had been expensive looking black stockings, the seams slightly crooked at the back of her shapely calves. Apart from the stockings her feet were bare, and to my astonishment, her ankles were moving extremely freely as she dragged in our French professor!

I'd realised immediately that the previous evening's shenanigans had just been a sham, just a ruse for Christina to get some time with our finishing school Lothario. I'd felt a flash of annoyance and then panic. What was I to do? They hadn't seen me yet, and I'd looked wildly around for a moment before slipping behind an ornamental Chinese screen beside the cloakroom door. It was black lacquered, with a flowing grill design at head height. There'd been just enough room to duck out of sight. I'd breathed a big sigh of relief!

Then I'd peeped through the latticework top to see what was going on, and it had been quite a lot! They clearly hadn't been showing any restraint, well, not at that point anyway. He'd pulled her to him in the middle of the room, pressing his body against hers and his lips were busy against hers as her hands ran through his short black hair. His hands had been busy roaming sensuously around Christina's back, gradually getting lower and lower until they almost joined at her bottom, grasping her cheeks through the thin dressing gown and pulling her harder against his hips. It had been easy for me to imagine what that would have felt like!

After a few long minutes of this caressing, and with my own body starting to respond to the erotic sight, they'd pulled apart and he'd drawn apart the fastening of her gown, exposing Christina's shapely body and a very sexy looking mauve corset. It had been quite eye opening for me. I'd never seen such an expensive and pretty looking garment, the shiny mauve material of the bodice reached down to below her naval, interlaced with black stitching and lacework and long black suspenders which hooked onto her sheer stocking tops at front and back. He'd looked impressed as his eyes had opened in surprise and, as he'd eased the gown off her shoulders to drift gently down to the floor, he'd asked her wherever she'd got hold of such a sexy item. She'd smiled back at him but shaken her head. That was a secret she'd been intent on keeping to herself!

Of course it hadn't been what the corset covered that was the real eye opener, it had been what it hadn't! At the top, two gossamer black triangles had caressed her breasts with thin straps running round her neck to a neat mauve bow. The material though was so translucent that it might as well not have been there! In fact, at the tips it hadn't been! I'd looked on open mouthed as I saw that her long pink nipples were peeping through a gap in the material, already looking perky and excited.

The bottom didn't exist either! The corset material flaring out for a few inches below her narrow waist before ending in a hem of fancy black lace. Her tight, muscled bottom cheeks had been facing me until she'd turned a little and I'd seen how the corset and long suspender straps neatly framed the dark triangle of pubic hair between her legs. I hadn't been able to believe how I'd admired her delectable looking body when every element of my upbringing should have led me to despise the way that she was behaving!

Christina had clearly got other things on her mind as she bent down to rummage in her gown pocket and stood back up with a cheeky grin across her face and some pink satin ribbons in her hand. He'd looked at her and shook his head slowly.

"Are you sure about this ma petite?" he'd asked, his accent suddenly very prominent.

"Of course professor," she'd responded teasingly, "I've been looking forward to this for weeks ....... and I'm sure you have too!"

Professor Pascale had shrugged and reached for the proffered strips of ribbon, "Well, I certainly can't remember a young woman who was quite so keen to suffer!" he'd responded with a widening grin, "and yes, I have been looking forward to it too. You're by far the most adventurous of my students you know!"

Then I'd heard him say something strange about a safety word that I hadn't understood, but she'd just nodded urgently and started pulling him towards me! I'd ducked down again quickly! It had taken a few minutes for me to pluck up courage to watch again, but when I had peeped through the lattice again, I'd seen Christina stood up against the side of a small green leather chair about five yards away, she'd seemed to be pressing her thighs against the soft round leather of the chair arm while the professor was busy at her feet. I'd had to stifle a gasp of surprise when I'd realised that he'd used a ribbon to tie one of Christina's shapely ankles to one chair leg and was drawing the other sideways so that he could fasten her other ankle to its neighbour, about four feet away. When he'd stood up, Christana's legs had been spread wide, and I'd imagined, so would be her unprotected pussy lips. As if to emphasise the point, he'd given Christina a sharp slap across her bare bottom which had resulted in a little squeal of surprise.

Then he'd gone round to her front, leaned over the chair and looped a ribbon around her wrists, drawing them tightly together and pulling them up and away from her body. His other hand had crept forward and begun to fondle her breasts under the thin gauzy material that had been no defence to his fingers as they'd begun to manipulate her nipples, flicking at them and squeezing them hard, making them stand out even prouder. She'd gasped as she'd felt the effect on her skin, letting out a kind of animal like moan as his hand had continued to assault her soft, unprotected breasts. I'd been absolutely transfixed as I watched him seemingly torture my classmate, whose cries and groans hadn't exactly sounded like terror at all.

After he'd finished tantalising her breasts, he'd dropped her wrists, gone over to her gown and had pulled out the soft satin belt. Then he'd come back to the chair, looped it in between Christinas bound wrists and begun to pull her further forward so that she was gradually bending further and further over the chair as he pulled her wrists over the other chair arm and used the belt to fasten them to the feet on the other side of the chair. Her body was now stretched past the horizontal, but her legs were trapped by the chair arm pressing against her thighs leaving her bottom standing proud in the air and, to my amazement, her spread legs had left me looking straight into her exposed slit. It had looked swollen and engorged and glistened with her juices. I doubt that I could have spoken at that moment even if I'd wanted to and I'd felt a disturbing sensation starting to spread from between my own legs as my enforced voyeurism continued.

Her head had been hanging down between her arms, her silky hair masking her face as he eased the dark strands to one side and undid the little mauve ribbon that fastened the black straps of her corset behind her neck releasing her pert breasts from their little pockets of thin, black material to dangle freely below her chest. Then he'd come back around the chair, taking the opportunity to reach under her and caress her soft orbs again, getting another little cry of excitement in return. This time I'd distinctly heard her mumble "More, more ..... please!" but the professor had just given them a little slap each that had Christina sucking in breath before circling round behind her. I'd had a distinct feeling that I'd noticed a big bulge developing under his dressing gown earlier. Now there'd been no doubt as he undid his own belt and let the dressing gown drop to the floor exposing his naked, wiry frame and a very large and impressive erection. Now, when he came up behind her, he'd let his hands lightly caress her bare buttocks for a few minutes, making Christina squirm until he lifted his hand and slapped her hard on each cheek with a sound like a gunshot. In surprise, I'd stepped back with my hand going to my mouth and Christina had let out a little strangled cry of pain.

He'd slapped her twice more on her bottom, quickly, before his hand had returned to gently caressing over the tight, somewhat rosier skin, and then his fingers had begun to slide between her legs, teasing apart her wet slit and beginning to rub between the folds, making Christina squirm again and bringing back the animal like whimpers as the massage had sent hot, sensuous feelings flooding through her. Suddenly I'd begun to imagine what those fingers would feel like between my own tight slit and my sense of unease, and illicit excitement, had deepened considerably. Particularly as I, unlike Christina, had been able to see the mighty weapon that was waving about between his legs.

After a few more slaps and even more finger massage, Christina had been pleading for him to 'finish' her. I hadn't been an expert on the terminology, but I'd had a pretty good idea what that was supposed to mean!

He hadn't needed much encouragement as he'd finally positioned himself between her legs and eased the tip of his cock up into the gap between her lips and up against her little pink hole. She'd sighed with pleasure and anticipation. My mouth had gone dry. Then I'd watched his own bottom muscles bunch up as he thrust forward and penetrated deep into her defenceless vagina. This time they'd both sighed with pleasure. I may have joined them, I can't really remember!

His hands had been on her waist as he'd held her in position when he started pumping slowly back and forth within her, creating mayhem in her pleasure filled brain. Her body had been pushed back on forth with the motion, her breasts bobbling about below her, her head relentlessly twisting from side to side as she'd sucked in those hot feelings from between her legs. It had looked like she was about to explode!

Then he'd stropped, and pulled back out of her, his juice covered cock still as enormous as ever. Christina had cried out in disappointment. I'd almost joined her. What could he have been doing?

In answer he'd walked round her prostrate body to stand in front of her. He'd reached down and lifted up her head until her mouth was up to his waist and I'd watched, horrified, as she'd begun to lick and kiss it's hot length before letting him feed it into her mouth! I hadn't known anything about that sort of thing. It looked horrible! But Christina had now started working hard at the hot, stiff rod pushing deeper and deeper into her mouth, and this time it was the Professor who'd been groaning in pleasure.

Maybe it had been too much for him. Maybe she'd been too much for him, because he'd quickly dragged out his cock and she'd licked her lips hungrily as he'd withdrawn. Now I'd decided that this would be the finale though as he danced back around her to where her upturned ass displayed her invitingly open slit and pink vagina, waiting expectantly for his attention again. He'd pulled open a condom pack from somewhere and quickly drawn it over his erect shaft. Then his hands had been back on her quivering body again, one hand on her waist, the other creeping around to feel for her bush and clit as he fed himself in to her and pushed deep inside her hot cavern again.
No sooner had Christina's little moan of delight escaped her lips as she felt him penetrate her again than she'd been gasping for air as he'd almost immediately begun to drive backwards and forwards between her legs like an express train! His muscles had been bulging and soon Christrina's little wails of pleasure were increasing in pitch and intensity as her body strained at her bindings, her sensitive breasts dancing wildly around under her as the force of his thrusts rippled strongly through her.

I'd had my mouth open in awe as my imagination ran wild at the thought of what she must have be feeling. The force of his thrusts had been setting off a sympathetic throbbing in my own tender pussy and I could only imagine what it must have felt like as his fingers simultaneously rubbed and flicked at the hypersensitive skin around her clit.

It hadn't taken long as Christina's animal like squeals had quickly merged into a long, continuous moan and as her body had finally tightened under him, she'd given out a final little scream of pleasure as her orgasm had finally taken over her body and given her release from the delicious tension that must have been building inside her.

As he'd felt the shuddering little convulsions ripple around her vagina I'd watched as he too had given one final, long and deep thrust to trigger his own sweet release as he collapsed forward over her bare buttocks.

They'd both been dragging in deep lungfuls of air after their exertions and had their eyes shut. Somehow my brain had seen an opportunity to escape this erotic torture, and I'd quickly crept out of my hiding place end scuttled across the room to the door. I'd been forced to glance back just as I escaped to see them one final time, locked together in post-orgasmic torpor, and just in time to see the professor look up! Our eyes had locked together for a few seconds before I'd dived out of the room in panic.

He'd clearly seen me. What would he do? I'd been too young and befuddled by the sex to realise that it wasn't me that had been in the wrong!

-------------------***************----------------

I'd fled the chalet in total confusion and spent the rest of the day on the slopes, letting the cool mountain air clear my head. I'd heard of people being tied up to have sex before, but that was completely different to actually seeing it in real life! I'd been both horrified and strangely excited, and it had been the latter emotion that had been causing me most concern!

I'd deliberately delayed my return to the chalet so that I'd not be first back. I'd just not been sure what I'd say to Christina, or the professor. I'd felt so incredibly awkward as I'd entered the main lounge, but as I was welcomed in by everyone, I'd quickly realised that no-one else seemed to know. In fact Christina had been the centre of attention, displaying her little limp again for everyone and when she kissed me on the cheek, I could see that she had no idea that I'd been a spectator at her earlier climax. Clearly the professor hadn't told her. It had been such a relief!

Later though, I'd gone to me bedroom to collect a book and as I'd returned, Professor Pascale had stepped into the corridor to intercept me. I'd been frozen in mid-stride as he'd gently taken my arm and steered me into an empty store-room. I'm not sure what I'd expected. To be thrust against a wall and ravished? To be threatened with expulsion if I'd said anything? Strangely, in my new state of sexual awareness, I'd actually considered the first option as vaguely attractive!

But he'd done none of that. He'd looked me in the eyes and asked me simply whether I intended to report them. It was only at that point that I'd realised that actually he was probably more worried about the situation than I! I was still confused, and hadn't made a reply, so he'd continued to talk calmly to me, his own nervousness displayed only by his suddenly accented English.

"Ma'mselle Parsons, I'm sure that you must have been a 'leetle' surprised by Christina and I earlier, but I assure you that we were only doing what Christina had asked. I would not do any such thing with a woman against her wishes," he'd paused for a moment, trying to gage my reaction, "you see, I errr, try to help my students in whatever way I can and sometimes your ,errr, colleagues request help in, errrr, unusual ways........."

He'd seemed to run out of steam at that point and I'd finally managed to engage both my brain and mouth to respond. But it had been the 'prim and proper' me that had responded, not the newly sexually aware me that had been trying to burst out earlier.

"I'm sure that whatever you and the rest of the girls get up to is none of my concern!" I'd replied haughtily, brushing past him and heading for the open door, "And no, I won't report you. I wouldn't want Christina to get in trouble." I'd also realised that if I'd said anything, I'd be on the receiving end of some serious wrath from many of my frustrated 'colleagues'.

And, of course, when I'd confided in Alicia later she'd just laughed and made some acerbic comments about the difference between Christina's rather stuffy outer image and the secret girl within!

Soon we were back at the Chateaux again though and life had continued as normal. We'd learned more about being 'young ladies', I'd even managed to improve my French as our Professor had suddenly seemed to be doing his best to give me more attention, much to some of the other girl's puzzlement.

Then Easter had come and gone and we'd been faced with a last two months at our private little world before we'd be dispersed around the world to convert everyone into a form of polite society that existed across Europe in particular at that time.

I'd had a problem though.

My dreams had become increasingly erotic after the chalet experience! It was getting to the stage where I could hardly meet any attractive man without spending the next night wondering what he'd be like in bed, imagining how he'd touch me under the sheets, and how I'd respond. It had been gradually driving me mad.

Alicia had been no help. She'd giggled when I'd told her about my fantasies and told me that I shouldn't worry, she had the same. When I'd persisted on the subject too long, she'd shrugged her shoulders and told me that I knew what the answer was, some extra-curricular 'French' lessons! I'd grimaced, but inwardly it had set me thinking. Could I? Me? No, surely not!

-------------------***************----------------

Which was why, of course, a week later I'd found myself sitting on a hard wooden chair next to Professor Pascale's desk looking totally confused and tongue-tied.

It had been a week of battles within me. Soul searching from my up-bringing was up against the natural effects of hormones on a young woman's body which was gradually pushing me beyond my normal boundaries. And the dreams hadn't helped. Almost all involving our 'learned' professor, almost all involving bed and writhing, naked bodies!

He'd been sat watching me speculatively for a good few minutes. I'd asked to talk to him after one of his lectures on 'Classic French Playrights', but I hadn't been doing much talking! Instead I was struggling to conjure up words which a well brought up lady would use which might just as easily have boiled down to 'Take me, I'm yours!'

"How can I help you Ma'mselle Parsons? Do you have a question about my lecture?"

After our abrupt conversation at the chalet, he'd been quite formal with me, but as I'd not 'spilled the beans' he'd gradually eased up and become quite friendly. But there was always something held back, as if dealing with me quite warily. Well, who wouldn't? By now I'd become quite jumble of urges and emotions. It had made me a little unpredictable. Even Alicia had commented on it.

In the end, I'd just about managed to get out some sensible English. Well, of a sort that is.

"Errr, yes .......errr, I did want a word.............It's just that ............."

His expression had changed to one of complete puzzlement as I'd struggled on.

"It's just that I've errrr.........been talking to one or two of the other girls and they mentioned that you ....................... errr sometimes help them with ........"

I'd run out of steam, but it looked as though he was catching on as he'd leaned forward, his expressive eyebrows raised high.

"You mean that they have told you about my 'little arrangements'?" he'd asked slowly, and this time it was his turn to falter, "And you'd like me to ........."

It had been getting ridiculous, and my patience had finally snapped, overcoming any residual reserve, "Exactly Professor. I want you to make love to me!" Then I'd added waspishly, "Just like all the others!"

There, it had finally been said and I sagged back a little in my chair, slightly dumbfounded by what I'd done and wondering what his reaction would be. And, for the first time in all the days that I'd been thinking about this very conversation, it had occurred to me that there was a possible negative outcome. What if he'd rejected me? How could I have possibly dealt with that? I'd suddenly become a little worried, as I surveyed his facial expression.

But his expression had changed in the right direction, from puzzlement and surprise to one of warmth.

"But of course Ma'mselle Parsons, of course. I'd be honoured, absolutely honoured."

We looked at each other for a few more minutes, and I'd been surprised to see in his warm brown eyes a look of deep caring and tenderness, then he'd chuckled to himself as he leaned forward to take my hand.

"I'm slightly surprised you know. I'd not expected to have such an opportunity with such a beautiful young woman. You've spoken to ...... well, it doesn't matter, but do you understand how my 'little arrangements' work?"

The well of relief running though was making me quite gushing in my response. I'd re-assured him that I knew all about the 'rules', his 'booking' system and the girl's responsibility to find a 'love nest'. He'd nodded and expanded on bits as I'd gone along, looking at me in a sense of wonder.

"You really are one of the most beautiful girls here you know. I'm so pleased that you want me to help you."

I think I'd blushed in response. And, looking back, I suspect that he'd used simple flattery so many times before that I must have been quite naive to feel so happy at his comment. But I had!

He'd pulled out a little diary from a drawer and rifled through the pages, his eyebrows raising in surprise again, then looking at me and smiling again.

"I could manage tomorrow afternoon at about one o'clock," he'd said.

My mouth must have gaped open in shock. I'd been expecting that it would be weeks before anything happened!

"But if that's inconvenient for you......."

"No,no .... absolutely not ....... I, err just need to get a few things ready, but that's fine, absolutely fine!" I'd mumbled.

"And where have you got in mind?" he'd prompted.

At least I'd been prepared for that and I'd explained about the hospital bed that had been languishing amongst other discarded props in a big storeroom at the back of the hall stage. It had been used in some old school production years ago, but was surrounded by screens and was an ideal spot for what I'd had in mind.

He'd smiled again and agreed. I'd stood and he'd taken my hand and, quite charmingly, stooped to kiss it, keeping his eyes on me all the time as he's said how much he'd be looking forward to our little tryst the next day. Just as I had been!

-------------------***************----------------

Of course, the short timescale had created one or two problems.

The biggest was deciding what to wear!

The night before I'd searched rather frantically through my rather limited wardrobe for something that could vaguely be defined as sexy, and had come to the disappointed conclusion that I didn't have anything! I'd considered asking Alicia, but that would have inevitably meant explanations and I'd certainly not been ready for that conversation!

Eventually, I'd picked out a fawn Summer dress, cut low around that neck so that I'd at least be displaying some cleavage. It had fitted tightly around my bosom and waist, so it showed off my figure well with the skirt flaring out quite fetchingly over my hips but the hem had sat primly on my knees!

At least we 'Young Ladies' had been taught to sew though! I'd got out my little kit and spent an hour lifting the hem a good four or five inches so that it sat scandalously mid-thigh when I'd finally been satisfied with it. It had displayed my well proportioned legs just nicely and I'd just hoped that no-one would see me on the way to the hall!

Then I'd had a real panic when I'd explored my lingerie drawer! After seeing that beautifully sexy corset that the Contessa had been wearing I'd scanned my own dreary white mixture in dismay. I'd racked my brains as I'd sifted through my perfectly serviceable bras and knickers desperate to find something that I'd known I didn't have. Then I'd had a brainwave, and that problem had been resolved as well!

So in the end, I'd just had to get through a hot, sticky night of seriously erotic dreams as my anticipation of the next day had reached almost uncontrollable levels. It had been tinged with the occasional doubt and tentative feeling given my almost total lack of experience, but all in all I I'd been just in the mood to let caution blow away in the alpine winds!

Did I say 'lack of experience'? Actually it had been almost non-existent up to then which was why I'd still been slightly wary of how it would go and how I'd feel. I'd had a few boyfriends before and we'd 'petted' to various degrees of seriousness, but the only time I'd let it go further had been an absolute disaster. It was when I'd been about to leave my boarding school. There's been a big party with drink that I wasn't accustomed to and I was with a boy that I'd like a lot. We'd somehow ended up in bed, clothes all over the place and I'd been staring hazily down, past my bare breasts, at the thing dangling between his legs as he kneeled between my parted legs. He'd struggled with the condom rolling it on very tentatively, his face straining, as he'd tried to control himself but then he'd suddenly gasped at his own release and collapsed on top of me before rolling sideways and falling asleep! It had been as near as I'd got to losing my virginity and hadn't been pleasant enough to encourage me into rushing into a repeat performance.

Until then.

Until Professor Pascale.

---------------------**************---------------------

So there I'd been, sat nervously on the edge of the stage hospital bed, ridiculously early. I'd had plenty of time to arrange the screens so that there was no chance of any casual visitor to the room seeing us and I'd even checked that the sheets were clean! Well, you could never be too careful and we'd been brought up to worship tidiness and cleanliness!

I'd checked my watch at least a dozen times before I'd heard steps in the storeroom, and eventually a voice, "Ma'mselle Parsons?" as he'd stepped past one of the screens.

It was fairly warm and he'd been wearing some grey slacks with a thin black belt and a white shirt. He'd evidently discarded the little bow-tie that he usually wore in favour of the open necked shirt that displayed just a hint of dark hair on his chest. He'd been just average in height, maybe an inch or two taller than me, fairly lean, but with a hint of strong shoulders and muscular frame. I'd felt my mouth go dry as I'd finally seen him and I'd instinctively licked my lips as he'd come towards me, smiling winningly. 'This really was it then!' I'd thought to myself excitedly as I'd started to rise.

"No, no Ma'mselle," he'd said quickly, indicating that I should stay seated, and he came over and sat down next to me. I'd glanced down nervously at my legs. By half standing and then sitting again, the hem of my shortened dress had ridden even higher up my thighs and the tan tops of my stockings were now clearly visible. I'd pressed my knees even more firmly together as I'd worried about whether he'd think I was being too wanton. Ridiculous I know, but at the time I'd been wracked by guilt, confusion and a large dollop of lust!

He'd taken in my appearance with a quick glance, and he looked pleased. For a surreal moment I'd thought that he might wolf whistle, but he'd simply smiled appreciatively.

"My, my, Ma'mselle Parsons, you look absolutely delightful, I'm so pleased that you approached me. But perhaps you will permit me to call you Mary?" I'd nodded, not trusting my voice, " ....... and you must call me Bertrand," he'd continued, " ........ out of class at least!" He'd chuckled at the little joke and I'd laughed as well, helping to relieve the tension that had been building up in me. He'd been sitting quite close and I'd had to twist my face to look at him, wondering what to say. But he'd taken charge immediately. His hand had lifted to caress the side of my cheek as he'd told me again how beautiful I looked. True or not it had been wonderful to hear! Then he'd asked me if he could kiss me, and I'd just nodded again, mute.

He'd leaned forward and as his lips touched mine, I'd flinched a little, but he hadn't pushed, just letting the magical moment linger for a few minutes before finally pressing forward. Instinctively, I'd quickly overcome my caution and begun to press my warm lips back into his, wallowing in the sweet feelings that the kiss generated. Within seconds I'd lost control! My hand had crept round the back of his neck and I was pulling him harder onto me, our lips working hard against each other, my breathing put on hold as the raw desire ran through me. When his tongue had tentatively pushed up against my lips, they'd opened automatically to let him explore the inside of my mouth like a devilish serpent. Almost immediately, although I'd never done it before, my own tongue was fighting back and invading him too. I think that he'd been a bit shocked initially at my ardour, but he'd soon responded in kind and by the time that we'd pulled apart we were both breathing hard.

"Mon Dieu!" he'd gasped, "you are like a tiger!"

I'd amazed myself at my response to him, my body had just taken control, and I'd felt so thrilled.

The pause had lasted just a few seconds though as we'd leaned into each other to press our bodies together and our lips had met again. This time though the kiss was more measured, more pleasurable and I'd flinched again as I'd felt his hand on my side, rubbing up and down my dress until eventually it had risen to my bosom and I'd gasped as I'd felt him rub up against my breast through the thin material of my bodice. I'd thought that I would dissolve in pleasure. He'd continued to caress my breast for a good few minutes, making me squirm in his arms until suddenly his hand had gone! I'd moaned in disappointment, until almost immediately flinching again as I felt the hand rest on my knee.

He'd felt my sudden tightening and he'd just rested his hand there for a few minutes while my breathing had recovered from the surprise touch. My knees had automatically parted a little to let the hand slide between my thighs and I'd gasped again as it began to slide upwards, over my stockinged thigh and flooding my brain with delicious electric signals!

As it reached my stocking tops it paused tantalisingly as his fingers traced a path along my smooth bare skin before resuming the upward motion, each inch sending more and more urgent messages of desire coursing through my body. My lips had been still working hard against his as I'd clung onto his neck, my whole being focused on the fingers gradually nearing their goal, searching out for the edges of my underwear. The tension had been getting unbearable as my pussy had signalled its need to be touched. Then it had been! And instantly the fingers recoiled as they met my curly little mound!
"Mon Dieu!" he repeated as he suddenly realised that I wasn't wearing any knickers. His fingers had begun roaming all over my hairy bush as they revelled in the freedom.

"Ma'mselle ...... Mary .... you surprise me! Who would have thought it!" he laughed.

But I'd just been concentrating on his fingers as they began to drift lower, my legs automatically opening wider to aid their advance, anticipating their delightful touch on my swollen, damp slit. It had just had to come! This time my moan had been loud enough to startle my partner as his fingers finally began to slide over my oily, open lips making me almost explode with desire, and as one dipped inquisitively between the folds and began to explore my inner, most sensitive parts I'd thought that I was going to feint with pleasure. Then, to my intense frustration, it had gone again! I'd tried to pull away from him, but found that his hands were now at the back of my neck, unclasping my zipper and dragging it quickly down my back.

Suddenly everything was urgency! No sooner had he pulled back from me as my dress loosened its grip than I'd dragged open the buttons on his shirt and yanked it over his head. His wiry, but muscular shoulders had been just asking to be caressed, but my arms had been suddenly trapped by my dress as he pulled it forward, over my shoulders and down until my young, pert breasts gradually popped into view. When he saw their ripe firmness, the large pale brown rings circling two button shaped pink nipples, he'd stopped and drawn in a long breath of admiration.

"Mon Dieu.........!" he'd gasped for a third time, this time lost for further words.

I'd become shameless now as my hands yanked open his belt, suddenly I'd been desperate to explore inside his pants, to feel his stiffness, to handle what might soon be delving deep into my body. God it had been exciting!

But again he'd frustrated me as he'd pushed me backwards so that I'd been lying on the bed, my legs dangling helplessly over the side. I'd had no time to draw breath as he'd followed me down and his lips were immediately wrapped around my left nipple. His tongue and teeth had begun to do wonderful things on the little button which grew and lifted in response and fired such a barrage of pleasure into my brain that I'd moaned out loudly yet again. God knows what any passerby would have thought if he'd heard me!

I'd no sooner recovered from the assault on my left breast than his hand had been busy caressing and manipulating my right nipple expertly between his fingers and thumb. I'd been completely overwhelmed and had just laid there gently squirming under his hands and lips, my low moans evidence of my complete surrender to my body. And then his hand had released my throbbing nipple and run roughly over my crumpled dress to the bare flesh of my navel, and I'd suddenly realised that my dress had rode high up to my waist leaving my pussy exposed and vulnerable to anything he'd wanted to do. I'd been in no mood to stop him!

Like a guided missile, his hand had cupped my mound and his fingers were wriggling around my pussy like a set of demons. His lips had been busy on my remaining nipple still and the combined effect had been awesome. My pussy had started throbbing almost painfully as his fingers had delved eagerly into every nook and cranny and when they finally hit my clit, I'd arched my back and cried out as I'd pushed my hips back at the taunting digits.

That combined assault on my senses had seemed to go on and on as I'd literally hung onto his strong shoulders. My head had been thrashing from side to side, I'd been making sounds like a wounded animal as I'd ridden a wave of sexual tension that had been taking me higher and higher. I'd wanted it to go on forever.

Then he'd stopped! This time I'd cried out in pure, unadulterated frustration.

I'd felt him lift off me and vaguely realised from my distant world that he was dragging off his remaining clothes and suddenly my eyes had focussed on the impressive looking cock standing out from between his naked legs. Clearly he'd been getting excited too!

The sight had set off some alarm bells as well. Suddenly the thought of being penetrated by a man, especially this man, hadn't been a dream anymore. And equally suddenly the old schoolgirl tales of how much it would hurt the first time began to resurface, quelling my ardour as I'd let him swing my legs onto the bed and climb on behind them.

"Are you ready Cherie?" he'd gasped excitedly, clearly knowing the answer given how my juices had been flowing out of my little pink hole.

Suddenly I hadn't been so sure, the excitement draining amazingly quickly from my body, but it had been too late to back down and even so, I'd still wanted it to happen. I'd nodded in return.

He'd smiled as he eased apart my knees and knelt between them, gazing appreciatively at my open sex, then, like a stage magician, he'd pulled out a little packet as if from nowhere, extracted a condom and begun to roll it along the length of his erect cock. It had looked huge and I'd watched hungrily as it slid along the length of the throbbing, firm shaft.

Then he'd leaned forward, resting on his hands alongside my waist and I'd been almost hypnotised by the sight of his member drawing ever nearer my waiting vagina. At the last moment I'd shut my eyes, as I waited for the contact. I'd wondered yet again what it would feel like to have a man inside me, whether there'd really be so much pain.

At the first contact as he pushed up against my outer folds I'd flinched and gasped. As he saw me stiffen, he'd made reassuring noises, telling me to relax. It had been easier said than done!

Then he'd pushed a little harder to ease the tip of his cock into me, only to be held up short by my tight vagina.

"Mon Dieu!" he gasped for the umpteenth time, "is this your first time?" I'd opened my eyes and he'd seen the worried look. I'd simply nodded.

He'd smiled back reassuringly, still pressing up against my cavern entrance, "Ma'mselle Mary, you should have told me........I would have been gentler."

He'd actually asked me then if I still wanted to do it. I'd clearly misjudged him before. He'd behaved like a true gentleman. But I'd not wanted to stop. I'd just been worried about how it would feel. He'd said that he would be honoured to take my virginity and that I should try and relax, it would make it more pleasurable. Then he'd asked me if I was ready. I'd nodded yet again.

I'd closed my eyes again as he pushed more firmly, forcing open my vagina entrance, pausing for a moment and then I'd felt a quick, sharp pain that made me gasp and suddenly his cock was a couple of inches in me. He'd stopped again, searching my face for signs of panic, but I'd been too engrossed in absorbing the new, strange, but entirely wonderful sensation of being penetrated and feeling a foreign body inside me for the first time. The pain had gone immediately, but I'd still felt a sense of discomfort as I felt him inch deeper and deeper into my hot, wet cavern. My mind had been a maelstrom of conflicting feelings and emotions.

When his cock had finally inched its way completely into me we'd both sighed together. My pussy and vagina had been throbbing together as he stopped there, letting me get used to the feeling of being totally and absolutely filled by his engorged member. Gradually I'd started to move my hips as I'd wanted to explore the feeling of him moving about inside me and, encouraged, he'd started to slowly withdraw a few inches and push back again. I'd gasped again as my vagina had signalled its pleasure. He'd started slowly, but had soon been moving backwards and forwards quicker and with more depth. I'd still had an annoying little feeling of discomfort around my entrance that was holding me back, but he'd soon been grunting and gasping as he'd neared his climax. When it had come I'd seen that his eyes were tight shut and he'd given one final, big push that made us both gasp again, and this time I'd felt his cock convulsing as he'd come inside me.

We'd both been breathing hard as he'd slowly withdrawn, and I'd cringed a bit as he'd slipped out of me. He'd laid down on the bed next to me, and brushed hair away from my face. I'd been annoyed to find that I'd cried a little. It had been nothing to do with the pain, just an intense relief that I'd finally done what had been nagging at me for so long.

He'd leaned over and kissed the tears, then he'd spread the kisses over my whole face. I'd still been feeling excited and aroused, but somehow unfulfilled. It had been strange.

"You didn't come did you?" he'd asked gently. I'd had to tell him that I wasn't really sure.

"Oh, you'd have known if you had," he'd smiled, "Now lay back and relax. It is time for Bertrand to repay your kindness."

With that he'd pushed me back down and, strangely placed each of my hands onto my breasts, and I'd immediately felt a thrill at the contact.

"You can help yourself while I'm busy down there," he'd said as he'd glanced down at my pussy again, "Do what feels natural Mary"

Then he'd slid down my body, pushing the crumpled up dress out of the way and begun kissing his way around my delicate mound. It had felt delightful, and almost immediately my hands had begun to move around my sensitive breasts, as if guided by remote control. Suddenly I'd begun to climb that sensual mountain again that I'd been on when we'd started.

Within minutes, my hips had been squirming as his expert lips reached my slit and began to suck and nibble at my pussy lips. His tongue had begun to torture almost every square inch of my hypersensitive sex, but he was careful just to inflame the areas around my vagina, without pushing in, and when he'd finally reached my clit I'd almost exploded with pent up desire. He'd taken his time and soon had me riding those big waves of pleasure and I'd been vaguely aware that my fingers had become busy with my nipples as well. Suddenly I'd had no inhibitions in my search for extra, intense pleasure and final release!

When it had finally come, I'd felt my body tightening, almost painfully, as he'd got busy flicking remorselessly at my swollen clit. I'd screamed out loud suddenly as I'd fallen over the edge, feeling strange, delightful convulsions rippling around my vagina and spreading around my body.

I'd been dragging in big breaths of air as I'd slowly recovered my senses, only to find that he'd not stopped! His tongue had still been busy between my splayed out legs and I'd been amazed to find that I was soon on the edge of the precipice again. I'd not believed it possible to happen more than once, but it had! And he'd not released me from my erotic torture until I'd come twice more, each one a little gentler, but just as pleasurable as the last. I'd been completely exhausted when he'd finished with me!

And when I'd finally got my senses back and realised that he was now pulling on his clothes next to the bed, he'd bent down to kiss me on my lips. I'd been amazed because it had suddenly felt like a natural, familiar feeling.

He'd smiled down on my languid, semi-naked body, my legs still splayed out in the most wanton of poses.

"I was right," he'd said, "you really are the most beautiful young women here, and you have so much passion. More than you probably know. I'd love to teach you more. Do you think that you'd like to do it again?"

"Oh God yes!" I'd gasped.

-------------------***************----------------

I think that he'd probably been right about the passion.

Suddenly I'd become absolutely insatiable. After that first time I'd quickly fitted myself firmly into the Professor's schedule and I'm sure that he'd given me preferential treatment as we'd made love every two or three days for the remaining seven weeks of the course. It had been plenty of time for him to teach me so much about ways of pleasuring each other, different ways of making love and I'd become rather proficient between the sheets, as the good Professor had agreed one night when I'd absolutely exhausted him near to the end of term!

Of course it had been impossible to keep my transition from Alicia, or the other girls in the 'know'. Alicia had immediately noted my sudden change of attitude towards Bertrand,

"You've done it with him haven't you!" she accused me one night. I'd just smiled back secretively.

Some of the other girls had had the temerity to complain that I was getting 'preferential treatment'. I'd ignored them. It had been straight forward. I'd been a late starter so I'd needed more of his time!

All too soon our time at Chateau Briaxand drew to an end. We'd started out as a group of girls, and left as a group of well mannered, sophisticated young ladies. At least that was what Miss Hendricks had said at our leaving ceremony. I'd certainly learned a lot, and so had most of the other 'young ladies', but not all of it had been from the school brochure!

On our final day, the school had organised a fleet of coaches to take us down to the railway station. It had been a sunny day and everyone had been standing around, moving from group to group making tearful farewells and/or arranging to meet up afterwards. I'd joined in but had felt slightly apart again. It was almost like when I'd arrived.

I was the only one carrying a little white rose and it had surprised and slightly disturbed me!

As we'd been carrying out all of our luggage, Professor Bertrand had intercepted me in a corridor, swept me into a side room and given me one long, final kiss. He'd seemed quite emotional, particularly when he'd said that we probably wouldn't meet again. I'd already come to accept that, given his strict rule about not getting emotionally involved, so it was a big surprise when I saw that his eyes were a little glassy as he mumbled a final farewell, gave me the single white rose before smiling and striding out of the room.

It had been the last time that I'd seen him.

As I'd sat next to Alicia and the bus had pulled away, I'd looked back at the group of waving staff members but there was no sign of 'my' professor. I'd shrugged, looked quite sadly at my rose again, and then fallen into a long conversation with Alicia about our plans to spend our Summer together. We'd not known each other before meeting at the chateau, but it had turned out that we lived quite close by in London and it had been the start of a deep and lasting friendship.

We'd both married at about the same time, Alicia to a career civil servant at the Home Office, me to an ambitious young architect who'd been the love of my young life, and still was. We'd both set up house in West London, we'd had children at about the same time all of whom now seemed to be at university or 'travelling', and I'd had time when the children had grown older to start a business supplying language teachers to various businesses and institutions.

I'd been lucky. Whether down to the Institut Chateau Briaxand or not I don't know, but my life had been a happy one, maybe a few ups and downs like everyone, but basically one of fulfilment and contentment, and no one had ever complained about my performance in bed!

-------------------***************----------------

Suddenly my little reverie in the coffee shop had been broken though by the clatter of shopping bags landing unceremoniously on the chair beside me.

I'd glanced sideways at them. Dark Green. Harrods again. I should have known!

Bustling to a stop beside me had been a tall, graceful figure in a white shirt and tight blue trouser suit that accentuated her trim figure. Alicia had always been good at choosing alluring clothes and even at our age had looks that turned men's eyes.

Luigi had shouted across and Alicia had turned to reply briefly to order her coffee, and as she'd turned back her eyes had picked out the picture in the open newspaper. She'd leaned forward to get a closer look at the obituary.

"Well, would you believe it?" she'd said casually, "Professor Pascale of all people. Randy old sod wasn't he? I wonder if it was all that sex that finally caught up with him!"

We'd both laughed, but I'd felt a twinge of guilt at the same time.

Not that Alicia was going to dwell on anything sad for long, and she'd looked quite excited and impatient as she'd bent down to whisper in my ear. As usual it had been cleverly done on her part as her body had masked me from the rest of the people in the room, and also the way that her hand had crept down from my shoulder to fondle my breasts through my thin dress.

"Come on lover, let's get these coffees drunk up quickly and go. I can't wait to get my hands on you! Where shall we go this week, your place or mine?!"

The End
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