We left the room, our clothes in our hands, Jill and Hollie were outside in the corridor. Ava was nowhere to be seen -- perhaps still in the room. Jill was sliding down against the wall, a picture of libidinous bliss, her eyes shut. Then she sat on the floor, raising her eyes to the ceiling. "Oh, that was so good! So sinful!" she exclaimed, her voice throaty. "More, please, more now!" she pleaded.
Hollie, to whom these words were addressed, stretched her arm for her to get up and laughed softly. "There will be more, much more, trust me, but you need a break." Catching Jill's disappointment evident in her expression, she added firmly, "I insist. Room 10. Get a drink of water there -- you look dehydrated. There are some clothes for you to wear -- put them on."
"Clothes?" Jill's disappointment grew again.
"Yes, Ron's wish was that you start dressed."
"Yes. Ron. You'll like him. Go! You've got 20 minutes."
"You bet!" We watched her young firm ass jiggle as she pranced towards the indicated room at the other end of the corridor.
Hollie waited until Room 10's door closed behind her. "She's fucking unbelievable," she said to us when finally confident she couldn't hear us anymore. "She's not to be told this, but she's hired already. I've never met anyone who would have this level of innocence and the ability to be this salacious at the same time. She has every chance to be our top girl."
I smiled, quite relieved to hear this, happy for her.
"Unless she can't take what's coming later in the night, which I seriously doubt would happen, we'll have her here."
She leaned against the wall, explaining further. "You guys look like you were going somewhere?" She raised her eyebrows at us suggestively.
"That we were," Katie confirmed radiantly. "The classroom."
"I see—" A wicked smile crept on Hollie's lips. She prolonged the two syllables for racy effect. "Mr Professor." She sniggered.
"That's exactly what I said!" Katie chuckled, then looked at me with the devil in her eyes. "Give me 15 minutes to prepare, Stu. It's Room 21, one floor up. Meet you there."
"If I am to be your student, I'd better look like your student. Go in there -- there are some outfits for men in a cupboard there, next to the door. Put some on!"
It was now her way to jiggle her ass on her way down to her office. I presumed it'd be in her office she'd change.
"How in the fucking hell have you been able to afford all of the stuff in this place?" I asked Hollie. "I mean, two-way mirrors, classrooms, massive marble bathrooms, cameras in every room—where—how--? I'll never buy that that Katie's savings got you all this."
She just smiled mysteriously. "All in a good time. Not now." She met my insistent stare. "Tomorrow morning. Just enjoy it tonight."
I accepted the temporary defeat. "Alright, then." I hesitated. "Will I get to see what Jill does?"
"You can always watch the recording of it later. There are 3 cameras in that room," she assured me.
"Excellent. Where's No.21? Upstairs?"
"Yeah. Take the stairs and the first door on the left. Enjoy fucking your friend."
Shaking my head, I began climbing the stairs.
I find that a bit of a narrative explanation is in order at this point. The rest of this chapter will follow what took place between Jill and Ron as well as for myself and Katherine. The reader might be wondering how I could possibly know what went on with the other couple when I was in a completely different room. I am admitting here freely that I have pieced together this part of a story from experiences of my own and from the watching recording of Jill and Ron's room available to me later. Although the events have certainly taken place as described, the timings might be incorrect. For this, I beg the reader's forgiveness.
The day and the place continued to take me aback. I wanted my answers! This room really was a classroom. The resemblance to a real place of learning was uncanny. On opening the door, a large, whitewashed room came into my view. There were eight grey student desks here, two lines of four with an aisle in between them. At the end of the aisle was a large mahogany teacher's desk, complete with some books, a diary, a hole puncher, a stapler and a large globe with a colourful map of the world stretched on it. On the side walls, above two long metallic cupboards, were a map of Britain on one wall and -- they must have had fun putting that one up! -- a male and female anatomical diagram posters. Behind the teacher's desk was a whiteboard with some markers provided. It all stopped just short of a projector, but outside of that detail the resemblance was practically ideal. "Bloody hell," I cursed in appreciation under my breath.
Just behind the door, there was a tall metallic cupboard. I guessed it was the one that Katie had mentioned -- and I was right. Hanging here were a few shirts, some ties and three pairs of formal trousers. At the bottom of the cupboard, there were also some boxes with some black socks and two pairs of shoes. I'd left my shoes downstairs if these wouldn't fit, and there would be sufficient time to get them before the twenty minutes would be up.
Luckily, it all fit. Struggling to control my erection while dressing up, I chose a white shirt and a single-colour burgundy tie to go with it. Then it was just a matter of putting the socks, the trousers and the shoes. Rather obviously, no pants were required to be worn.
Then I walked up to the teacher's desk and sat down in the large, wonderfully comfortable swivelling teacher's chair. I was afforded a rare moment of things slowing down and managed to reflect on the insanity of it all. It was really only now, the first time in a good few hours, that I realised that just the day before in the morning, I had been a lecturer with a career. I smirked, reacting to my own thoughts. The events had certainly moved on rapidly. Hollie, Jess, Jill and now Katie -- it was all rather shocking in one way, but completely freeing in so many others.
One second of thinking was enough to know the clear dangers of what I had agreed to here. Whatever Hollie liked to call that, and however I might want to justify the same myself, most of the rest of the world would see this as a whorehouse. I could just imagine the headlines in the papers if anyone as much as got a whiff of this: "Professor Leaves College Job For Brothel".
The thing was, I didn't care. Having spent years in a place where people's desires were pent-up, locked-up and hundreds of people lived in miserable cages. Here, those desires could be released and people were in touch with their nature, so much denied them elsewhere in the world. There was no "outrage" or "moral panic" here -- I had wanted this for a long time and realised, sitting here and waiting for my teacher/student fantasy to be realised, that I was willing to risk everything for this. All it took was to consider Jill's family story to understand. I might have not been fully in charge of my intellect with the girls here, but I still knew that the way she had come out of her shell here, from a shy, curled-up girl to a woman daringly exploring her sexuality -- granted, doing so very abruptly and aggressively -- was exactly what this place was addressing. I had many questions about the background of Dreams Realised, but I was assured enough to want to be a part of it.
The door opened and there she was, looking amazing. All other thoughts vanished in a blink of an eye.
And what a stunning sight she was. It would be a role-play alright! Her hair was now in two cute pigtails with blue ribbons attached to them. Then there was the white shirt and a shortish blue tie, a truly short black-and-blue skirt, showing most of her long sexy legs and a pair of light green trainer with white socks going almost all the way to her knees. She looked drop-dead gorgeous, and the impression of a teen was quite strong.
"Sir," she purred. It was immediately obvious she was playing the role and that I was expected to play along. "I've come for my detention."
Obviously, I played along. "Sit here," I easily took on the teacher persona; years of practice. I pointed her to a desk in the front row, right in front of the teacher's desk. I stood up, walked around the table and leaned against it watching her nonchalantly cross the room to the indicated location. The thrill of playing the schoolgirl and her teacher game was exquisite. I knew what to do next.
"Lana!" I gave her a pretend name. "Where's your book and handouts you're meant to work on?" I faked the voice of an angry, disappointed teacher. "Where's your bag? You have nothing with you!"
"Don't you but sir me! Didn't we say this was your last chance today? Didn't you promise to be good?"
She lowered her gaze, looking at the table, pretending shame. "Yes, sir."
"You know I'm going to have to call your parents. How many referrals is that today now again?"
"125, sir." She decided to introduce mocking into her smile.
"Well, it's 130 now, isn't it? It's 5 for coming late to detention with no equipment and unprepared. Remember school rules about that?"
"No, sir, what, sir?"
"That's managed move to Rutherford Hall."
She jerked herself up kicking the chair back and standing up, acting up despair and dread well. "Sir, no! No, no, no!" she tweeted, achieving a very comic effect. "That's a referral unit!"
I shrugged my shoulders. "Give me a break, Lana. How many times? How many warnings have you had from me, your head of year and Ms Bartlett?"
She took a step back, feigning fright and sudden respect. "But I don't want—"
I waved a hand. "Enough is enough, young lady. You had it coming with your attitude and lack of respect."
Suddenly, her voice lowered. "Sir, there must be something I could do."
"What are you talking about, girl?"
"Well, sir, you are a man—" She stepped towards me, now standing at an arm's length from me, "and I and a young—" she was now speaking seductively and suggestively, slowly moving closer; this would be every male teacher's nightmare in real life! '—sexy attractive woman," she finished.
Still playing the role of a teacher attempting to stay respectful in a very awkward situation, I moved away from the desk walking two steps away; now she was leaning against the desk and I was facing her. "Lana, what is the meaning of this?!"
"Oh sir," she spoke with an alluring voice, "what if I were really nice to you? Would you then not send me away? It could stay just between us, couldn't it?" She reached across towards my belt.
"Girl! This is a school!"
Undaunted, she dropped to her knees, loosening the belt. I kept playing a definitely daunted teacher, who nonetheless was hot for her student and could not resist her (which was definitely the case with me and Katie). "I'll be a good girl. Just between us," she repeated, pushing down my trousers. My cock sprang up from inside, now throbbing just inches from her face. "Oh my sir—" she mocked, "so you have wanted me all those months like I thought you did!"
I grunted, unbuttoning my shirt buttons.
She mocked some more, "Were all these referrals just to see how naughty I can be, sir?"
With that, she wrapped one hand around the cock and let it slip in between the lips. She was good! Delicate wet lips; the sight of her pigtails tossing about while she was sucking me was incredible. I moaned and put my hand at the back of her head; quickly, she was bobbing her head more earnestly against me and sucking harder, her tongue around the glans and the cock's underside. The student was taking it deeper and deeper and fast, with no gag reflex whatsoever. It was really quite fucking incredible -- soon the wet sounds followed and as she had almost all of it in, the head hitting the back of her wet, twitching throat, the burning heat of her mouth assaulting me savagely, she slowed down and while deep-throating me pushed her tongue to the outside of her lips, adding un-fucking-believable friction, pressing against the hard shaft. "Fuck!" I groaned. As I pushed her head towards me, she started bobbing her head against me, impaling her throat on me, now groaning out muffled sounds plugged up by the dick. She went in for another long deep-throat culminating in extreme, rabid hard sucking when it seemed that she managed to pull the back of her throat tighter against me. I gasped loudly at this assault just before she pulled out -- taking oodles of cum with her, slurping on it.
I bend down over her and took off her tie. She laughed approvingly. "You might just earn your stay, naughty girl," I whispered into her ear, undoing the buttons of her white shirt. Under it, she still had a striped pink-and-white bra. I grabbed her by the pigtails the cock entered her mouth again. This time, it was deep-throating from the first second, torrid, sizzling thrusts right to the roof of her mouth with accompanying audible sucking noises. At next breathing opportunity, she had spaghetti of cum on her lips and she pursed her lips sucking all over the head of the cock. Not a second wasted!
I grabbed her head next for the next round, this time properly fucking her open inviting face. Absolute pro, she was asking for the fierce, cruel attacks herself; the thick hard dick kept sliding past her wet lips delivering unabated stabs to her, which she met with closing her lips around me tongue tirelessly washing all over it. Ah, watching your hard cock fuck your girl's mouth -- few things are equal to that. I pulled out only when she showed the signs of beginning to gag, and slapped it against her cheeks and against the tongue she stuck out for me -- pure lechery!
"Open up!" My voice betrayed that no resistance would be tolerated. She opened wide; I grabbed her head with two hands and used the receptacle shoving the stick up deep, with long rough repeated stabs. Wide-open mouth ensured getting to the end of her throat and flowing out of the cum out, some dripping off her chin now. Now she was beginning to look proper slutty and filthy. Insatiable, she grabbed the dick herself now, not even letting me recover, and rotating her hand around its base right at the tight balls, she began sucking the super-sensitive glans now, seeming to know exactly where my best spots were. This was working in mere seconds. "Fuck, Katie!!!" I yelled, forgetting the role play. "Oh my fucking God!!" The balls were tightening and surges of heat were flowing already up my abdomen and chest, and I managed to remember to stop this or I'd cum into and onto her now and then without having a chance to do all the other things I desired to do to her.
I broke the contact abruptly, wheezing and grunting like a savage beast, pulling her up to her feet.
About half an hour earlier, Jill had been shown to the room where the next stage of the interview was to be held. She was told to sit on the sofa in the room, but nothing beyond that. On camera, she seemed slightly anxious on her own, but it would be rather difficult for an outside observer to distinguish between anxiety and anticipation on her face.
The room would have been a more typical hotel room -- a table near the window on one side, some leather chairs in Victorian style, a wall-mounted TV. A modern bathroom cubicle to one side. More unusual was a potted plant near the window, but what really made the room different was that there was no large bed here. Instead, a large three-seater sofa stood right in the middle of the room. That's where she was instructed to sit.
She'd been given some new clothes -- simple, nothing particularly fancy: a white T-shirt, a pair of blue jeans shorts. Under the shorts, she had a pair of black panties. No socks.
For a few minutes, there was not much to do; she was looking around, waiting, but having absolutely no actual idea when precisely "Ron" would appear. Eventually, she started stroking her own leg with long and lazy soft glides of her fingers.
She didn't hear him enter, facing away from the door; he surprised her with a kiss, bending over the back of the sofa. She gave out a quick cry of surprise, returning the first soft kiss.
He was a tall and rather muscular young man, older than her but not more than 25 years of age. He had short black hair, a very smiley upbeat expression and wore clothes similarly simple to the one she'd been told to wear -- just a white t-shirt and grey tracksuit trousers. He exuded optimism but also confidence. From the first kiss and his first look at her, he was evidently attracted to her.
He kissed her softly at first, but, nonetheless, his hand immediately travelled to one of her breasts, tracing its shape through the shirt. She liked the look of him and his kisses from the very beginning -- it was clear -- she stretched her legs down the legs of the sofa and leaned her upper body on its arm, arching her neck and looking upwards at him. The kisses were still soft, but growing in intensity and passion, and his hand was already under her shirt, feeling her breast.
He pushed her shirt up, exposing both her entire bust now. He sighed with deep satisfaction; for a moment, they were both looking at her tits and his large manly hand covering one of them. "Hi Jill," he said. He had a deep manly voice. "Great to meet you."
She exhaled deeply. "And you... Ron."
"You're gorgeous, Jill." His compliment sounded genuine and not forced at all. He received a brilliant, encouraging smile in return, which was all he needed -- next moment, he lips were on her right tit, kissing and soon sucking in her nipple. She arched her back, sighing voicelessly. He paid both of her tits full and undivided attention, sucking the flesh into his mouth, long and fervently, pulling her firm flesh in between her lips to keep in there to moisture her nipples with his spit and to swirl his tongue. She moaned deeply at his ministrations, totally entranced.
He held her up by her hands, already pulling off her shirt. Her tits now exposed fully and freshly wet after his kisses, their nipples were half-erect already. His hand quickly found its way down into her shorts. The guy had an affectionate ways about him (at least at the beginning) but we also clearly very confident and knew he could get what he wanted. His kisses were quite gentle still and mellow, but he wasted no time with his hand -- its movements were instantly demanding and rougher: he found her pussy through her pants and set to work that same moment. She reacted arching even further back, now moaning louder; in doing so, she pushed her chest up towards him and he added the sucking of her right tit to the mix: not as gentle as last time, hard, strong suction from a man whose arousal was growing fast. His earlier gentleness was giving way to overt lust; this last sucking of her tits was more objectifying and controlling -- a sign of things to come.
His rubbing of her clit was now more abrupt and definitely forceful, vibrating her hips, but what kind of a man would not want more? -- very soon, he was pulling off her shorts, then returning to some more rubbing, still through her pants. He was heaving, getting quite audibly aroused, not helped by Jill's never-stopping sighs of pleasure. "Oh man!" he complimented her, now able to slip his hands into her pants, finally feeling how wet she would've been, touching her actual flesh. Squirming and shaking, her moans were turning into louder sweet sobs, which spurred him into sucking her stupendous jugs deeper into his ever-more avid mouth and greedy wet tongue. When he wasn't sucking her tits, she would replace his mouth with her hands on them, fondling and squeezing her. The kissing was no longer purely soft, but naturally morphed into more wanting French kissing. More and more, due to the position and her entire body sprawled for him on the sofa and him kissing, sucking her tits and rubbing her clit and (I imagine) fingering her, she was slavish to him, submitting to it all with pure glee. And while submitting, she also looked like a siren and enchantress -- pure power over the guy, defenceless against her charms. His hand was growing more erratic over her bald slippery pussy, and eventually, of course, he needed more.