Christine’s long graceful fingers lightly slid up a few inches higher to squeeze Brigitte’s boobs on the full. “Oh, Sir,” she moaned, “they’re so firm and fat. Why don’t I get them out for you?”
Brigitte’s grin was huge as her friend stood back and deftly unclipped her bra. Brigitte held it on for a brief tantalising moment before she slipped it off, allowing her hands to drop and reveal the full magnificence of her chest.
“Oh, Brigitte!” Chloe whispered from the door, shocked at the sheer naughtiness of what her friends were doing.
My mouth was too dry for me to say anything. As I’ve already mentioned I had never before seen Bethany’s breasts or indeed any other woman’s, at least not in real life. To go from such paucity to the lush sublime abundance of Brigitte’s stupendous bosom was just too much for me. I moaned out loud at the sight of the high dark brown ovals of her small hard nipples causing Brigitte to give a low laugh in wicked knowing delight.
“Please you have to stop. Somebody might see us,” I groaned but they didn’t listen.
Instead Christine reached around her schoolmate once again to softly caress her breasts.
“They’re so lovely, Sir. Go on, have a good squeeze,” she urged. “I bet Miss Stricker’s tits don’t feel as soft and full and firm as these. Go on, Mr. Bletchflap. You know you want to.”
And of course I did. But somehow I managed to keep my hands flat on the desk, away from hot sinful temptation that Brigitte’s astounding gravity-defying chest represented.
“This is wrong. You have to stop,” I repeated but I couldn’t take my eyes from Brigitte’s heavy boobs as Christine’s dainty fingers pinched her nipples, rolling them firmly between finger and thumb.
“Does Miss Stricker like you to lick her tiny titties, Sir? I love licking tits,” Christine breathed, her clear azure eyes keeping hold of mine as she slowly lent forward to flick her long lithe pink tongue repeatedly over Brigitte’s left nipple, causing me to bark a groan of utter disbelief.
Brigitte moaned in pleasure, closing her eyes and muttering an obscenity as Christine began to suck in earnest, making loud smacking sounds as her lips occasionally slipped from Brigitte’s fine breasts.
I shook my head to clear it. I couldn’t stand up and reveal my excited state. I opened my mouth in an effort to reason with them but before I could start things got even worse.
At some unspoken gesture Christine stood back and Brigitte pulled off her tie and reached down to her sleek hips to unzip her grey skirt.
“No. Please, no,” I whimpered but the skirt fell to the floor revealing white high-cut non-regulation briefs and sheer black elasticated stockings. Her thighs were long and made a small enticing ‘v’ at their junction with the bulge of her plump pubis. I was intoxicated.
She turned slowly, facing her perfect bottom towards me. She began to unhurriedly, deliberately peel down her knickers.
As the top of the crack of her bum came into view, Christine slid her hand down her friend’s back until she was squeezing her pert buttocks.
Finally, with her panties on the floor, Brigitte slowly turned to reveal that she was cupping her vagina with her right hand. “Would you like to see, Mr. Bletchflap?”
I didn’t say anything, desperately trying not to look at the small strip of dark hair that was peeking out from behind her hand.
Christine decided to join in. “Go on, Sir. Don’t you want to see Brigitte’s pussy?”
It was only a few seconds after that I realised I had nodded.
“Here you are, Sir. Just for you,” Brigitte promised as she sat back on the desk and slowly spread her legs, still wearing her heeled shoes.
For a few moments there was silence. The girls, perhaps realising the enormity of their actions, paused to gauge my reaction.
I, for my part, was spellbound. I knew this so wrong on so many levels but I just couldn’t force myself to leave or to call for help. Matters had gone too far.
Brigitte’s legs were wide open, exposing her glistening pink lips to me, only a few inches from my face. Her clitoris was turgid and peeping out from below a cute hood nestled just under a beautifully trimmed strip of dark brown hair. The lips themselves were lewdly welcoming, gaping open to uncover her wet slick hole. I could smell her – sweet, sharp and headily seductive.
“Oh damn,” I swore entirely uncharacteristically.
My curse galvanised Christine into action. With a dirty challenging smile, she slid her right hand across and then down Brigitte’s stomach until her manicured middle finger slipped over her clitoris and between her lips to slowly push into her hole.
“Oh my God,” I blasphemed, transfixed by sight of Brigitte’s violation and the sound of her deep needful moans.
Christine began to unhurriedly slide her finger in and out of Brigitte, whose groaning was becoming higher and louder, although I could still hear the rude squelching of the finger in her pussy.
Christine began to speak to me in time with her scandalous manipulations. “As you can tell, Sir, we’re very friendly. It gets cold and lonely in our dormitory during the long cold nights and so we like to keep each other warm with our fingers and tongues. Does Miss Stricker keep you warm at night, Sir? Personally I think she’s too frigid to be any good in bed. I bet she doesn’t put out very often. Maybe that’s why you keep looking at us so hungrily, Sir.”
I wanted to deny this accusation but nothing came out beyond some incoherent mumbling. Christine’s finger was sodden with Brigitte’s juices.
She continued. “Would you like to stick you finger up her, Sir? Or even better your cock? I bet you’re nice and hard under the desk, Mr. Bletchflap. Why don’t you take it out and you can push it into Brigitte’s cunt? She won’t mind, Sir. She’s a real slut. She fucks the village boys at the weekends for extra cash.”