Instigations

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Instigations Page 8

by Kiki Archer


  Freya kept her eyes closed. Every receptor in her body was in overdrive. Kat was right. She was getting lost in the build up, falling into a place of intense arousal. “Keep talking,” she whispered. “I like it when you talk.”

  Kat continued to describe her movements. “I’ll kiss your shoulders and your arms, moving down to your hands and your fingers.” She made sure that every tender kiss was accompanied by a searching touch, tenderly arousing every inch of Freya’s aching body. “Just enjoy it,” she said, deliberately taking her time, herself gaining pleasure from the detailed attention. Freya’s body was perfect and she could worship it for hours.

  Freya finally felt Kat’s fingers on her thighs and her mouth on her breasts. The sensation was overpowering even though the touch was so slight. She gasped in pleasure, unbelievably close to orgasm.

  Kat slowly parted Freya’s legs, trailing her fingers carefully around her neat triangle. Gently she moved her fingers down and carefully opened her lips.

  Freya cried out in pleasure, even though she had yet to be touched.

  Kat placed her middle finger in the moist warm parting and began a delicate upwards movement.

  Freya tried to hold her breath, but the simplest touch was ecstasy.

  Kat moved her finger back down and knew she was close.

  As the tender finger made a final journey back up, she screamed out in pleasure, bursting with satisfaction.

  Kat resisted the temptation to press down hard or plunge inside her. She could feel the tightenings and knew by the way Freya was squeezing her arm that the orgasm was intense. She paused for a while, allowing the pulses to subside, then quietly spoke again. “You have to wait until the pulses have stopped and then you increase the pressure.”

  Freya eventually opened her eyes which were glazed with pleasure. “Show me,” she whispered.

  Kat spoke softly. “You can either use your fingers again, slightly harder and more rhythmic, or...” she kept eye contact as she moved gracefully into the gap between Freya’s legs, “...or you can use your mouth.” She rested on her own stomach and looked up at the exposed pert breasts. “But still you must be gentle and slow.” She turned her attention to the wet lips and tenderly kissed both sides.

  Freya threw her head back on the pillow. This was incredible. It was a complete surprise the first time Kat had done it. She had no idea it was possible, especially not to this extent. She groaned in enjoyment. The kisses were timid, yet exploratory, and the flicks of the tongue were occasional, but perfectly timed.

  Kat brought her mouth up higher and encased Freya between her lips. Gently she started a slow rhythm with her tongue. The pressure was minimal and she listened to Freya’s moans for guidance. It wouldn’t take long. The temptation to reach around for her bottom, draw her close and swallow her completely was huge, but she resisted. This was about Freya, not her. She heard the gasp of anticipation and knew it was coming, so she quickened the pace without increasing the pressure. She was not finished yet.

  Freya cried out for the second time that evening. This time it was deeper and more prolonged; seemingly impossible given the strength of her first orgasm. She gripped the sheets to the side of her. Kat was incredible, she had no idea it could be like this. Suddenly she felt Kat sliding in underneath her, pulling her back onto her stomach. Their heads were touching and they looked up at the ceiling, Freya on top, Kat underneath. “What are you doing?” she whispered, still gasping for breath, “am I not too heavy?”

  Kat enjoyed the feeling of Freya’s whole body lying on top of hers. “No, I need you like this.”

  “What for?” She felt exposed lying face up on top of Kat.

  “This,” Kat reached down with her hand as she would if she were about to pleasure herself, but instead of her own warm opening it was Freya’s. She took her left hand and reached for Freya’s nipple. She squeezed it roughly and thrust her fingers in between Freya’s legs. The pace was quick and the pressure was intense.

  Freya screamed out in pleasure. “Oh, fuck, Kat! Yeah! Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

  Kat was hard and fast, pulling Freya’s nipple and rubbing her roughly. She could feel it with her, the huge ripping orgasm that made them both lean up in contraction. She pushed her fingers deep inside and shuddered at the way Freya gripped them with mammoth pulse after pulse. She waited for what seemed like an eternity for the tightenings to stop, slowly sliding her fingers back out and wrapping both arms around Freya’s shaking body.

  Freya gasped. “What the fuck was that?”

  “That was the multiple orgasm thing.”

  “Well fuck me!”

  “I think I just did,” smiled Kat.

  Chapter Nine

  Ben was determined to sit in the cluttered staffroom and waste his free period. He needed some thinking time, but was not really in the mood for thinking. Instead, he chose to study Hannah Phag’s intricate movements around the staffroom. She was only in her early twenties, but looked much older, with awfully drab clothing and a blotchy make-up free face to match. First, she hovered around her pristine IT area, tapping her wispy chin and shaking her head. Then she moved to the kitchenette and wandered around the island which was covered in dirty mugs. Pausing every so often to bite her chapped bottom lip and look up at the polystyrene ceiling tiles.

  On any other day he would have bounced over, flung an arm around her plump shoulder and asked how he could help. She would have turned the colour of beetroot and mumbled some incoherent answer, always made worse by his immediate outrageous flirting. He liked Hannah Phag and admired her determination to stick out last year’s probationary year. A difficult feat given the fact most students and staff referred to her as Faggy. He watched as she circled the various clusters of brown fabric chairs, rubbing her eczema covered palms together in thought. Ben suddenly pictured a monk and smiled to himself for the first time that morning. Hannah had taken the advice from the Head of IT to try and up her image in order to avoid undue ridicule from the kids. The upping on her part had consisted of a bowl-esque type haircut and new ankle length green felt skirt. She was now lifting up the discarded bicycle wheel in the geography area and looking at the ground.

  Ben finally broke. “Come on Hannah,” he said, clambering out of his seat and wrapping a firm arm around her shoulder. “What are you looking for?”

  Hannah felt the itching immediately intensify. The ever so handsome Mr Puller always had that effect on her. She tried to play it cool. “The remote got bored and went walkies.” She heard the way it came out and tried to quickly rectify her mistake. “The remote for the board ... my board, my interactive white board, it has gone-”

  “You’re bored?” He thrust an imaginary dagger into his heart. “Hannah, how could you? I’m offended, am I that bad?”

  She shook her head frantically. “No, I’m not bored of you. My interactive white board remote has gone-”

  He held her waist and spun her around. “You can interact with me any time you want, Miss Hannah Phag.”

  “No, I, well-” She giggled childishly, her occasional moments with Ben were key events in her rather slow paced life. In fact, it was only in times like this, and of course the time spent on her flame etched moped, that ever caused her a real thrill.

  Ben took her by the hand, ignoring the abrasive feeling, and guided her to the red lost property tray by the door. “Okay,” he said rummaging through the items, “we have a Year Seven boy’s English book. A large set of PE keys. Mr Lester’s planner and ...” he tapped the item in his hand, “an interactive white board remote.”

  “The caretaker must have found it then!” she giggled, too hysterically.

  As he passed it over he patted the top of her hand which was now starting to perspire. “Now, is there anything else I can do for you, my love?”

  Kat pushed her way through the glass topped staffroom door carrying a large box of unmarked exercise books. “You could make me a cup of tea,” she whispered in passing.

  Ben nodded. “Hannah
, can I get you one too?”

  A half baked idea shot through her mind. She’d try an innuendo. “A cup of tea?” She tried to look seductive, but knew immediately that she had failed. She scurried towards the door. That was the last time she would be trying a provocative one liner. “Umm, no no, the remote is missing the board ... bye.”

  “Oh bless,” said Kat, watching Hannah rattle out of the staffroom, clutching her remote like her life depended on it. “I think she might like you.” Smiling, she lowered the box to the tiled carpet floor and made her way over to the pigeon holes.

  “Who doesn’t” he replied, performing an imaginary dust of his shoulders.

  “Me?” offered Kat apologetically.

  He began to fill the lime scaled kettle and sighed, “And for that, I will be forever scarred.” He dropped the ancient kettle onto its dusty stand and flicked the switch. “This time last year I thought all of my dreams had come true. You were a new, hot, sexy, smart, young teacher and I fancied the pants off you.”

  “No you did not!”

  He plonked two tea bags into the old mugs and looked up. “Yes I did!”

  “Does this stuff really work for you? ... With the women I mean?” Kat pulled out the pile from her pigeon hole and flicked through the bundle of letters, announcements and flyers. She paused, remembering the date. “And anyway, this time last year I had already come out.”

  “Well, whatever you do with the women certainly seems to work,” he winked and smiled cheekily.

  Kat doubled checked the staffroom. She knew it was empty but she felt the need to be sure. Scowling at Ben she spoke quickly, “Yes, okay, thank you! Change of subject please.”

  “No seriously, I think I need a few tips if the noises coming from Freya are anything to go by.”

  Kat felt devastated by embarrassment. She knew Ben was only teasing, but even so. “Seriously, stop right now.”

  Ben had fast learnt that Kat was a complex character, never fully sure of herself; always tinged with self doubt. The only area where her confidence really shone through was in her teaching. “Oh babe, you know I’m only messing!” He grinned, “...and anyway I could make my woman shout louder than your woman.”

  She smiled, meaning every word, “We both know that’s not true.”

  Ben chuckled loudly and used the cleanest spoon he could find to squeeze out the dripping tea bags. “I thought you did that thing with Diane on a Monday?”

  Kat looked up from her memo and ignored the sarcasm in his tone. “She has a break from observations this week. Apparently her last few lessons have been good.”

  “Yeah, only thanks to you,” he said, making his way over with the two steaming mugs. “Mug.” He handed it over.

  Kat shoved the unimportant pieces of paper back into her pigeon hole but kept hold of the memo. “Well maybe I am, but I would rather walk that extra mile and end up falling off a cliff, than never find out what is at the end of the road.”

  “Is that one of Lucy’s sayings?”

  Kat smiled, pleased that he was not going to give her another serious lecture about the dangers of Diane Pity. “Mine actually.”

  “What are you so engrossed in anyway?” He peered over her shoulder, making sure his mug of tea didn’t touch her back, and read the memo. “Oh wow Kat – that’s great!” He read it once more. Janet Louza was officially informing her that she would be playing a key mentoring role in January’s teacher training programme. “At least you get some of your lessons taught for you.”

  Kat folded the note and returned it to her pigeonhole. “That’s just it. I’m not sure I want an unqualified, inexperienced person teaching my classes.”

  Ben walked towards his area and patted the brown sunken seat next to his own. “Ooo, listen to you! We all had to start somewhere.”

  She sat down and took a slow slip of tea. “That sounded awful didn’t it! I just mean I love my classes and we have our own little routines and...” she paused, “...you’re right, how selfish of me.”

  Ben shook her knee. “It has started - your transition from fresh faced enthusiastic young teacher, to embittered old trout!”

  “Well you’ve perked up a bit!” she said, returning his jibe with a slap on the thigh. She blew some of the steam from her mug and studied him carefully. “How are you?”

  He took a large gulp of hot tea and tried to ignore the burning feeling scalding his throat. “All good, all good.”

  Kat puzzled for a moment. It had been over a month since he had confided in her about his suspicions, and as yet there had been no other news - or none that he had told her about in any case. She did not like to pry and always felt people would talk when the time was right, but now she sensed something was wrong. “Do you know where Lisa lives? Can you get in contact with her?”

  His ability to lie had improved over the past few weeks and the copious amount of practice he was getting made the current head shake fairly easy.

  There was a loud and repetitive bang on the glass topped staffroom door, so Ben jumped up, relieved at the interruption. He hooked his hand over the top of the frame and rested his head on his arm. “Chianne, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

  “I’ve got something for Spicer. Is she in there?”

  Kat heard the gruff voice and saw the huge shadow in the doorway.

  “Miss Spicer, it’s for you-ho!” sang Ben, grinning from ear to ear and walking back over with his cheeks puffed out.

  Kat slapped him on the chest as she made her way to the door. She smiled, trying to ignore the fresh coating of make-up that had been applied since the end of their last lesson. “It’s only been fifteen minutes since our last class Chianne.”

  “Yeah I know, but I didn’t want to give you this in front of the others.” She thrust a small envelope at Kat. “My seventeenth. It’s an invite.” She plonked her hand on her protruding hip. “There will be loads of alcohol and shit.”

  “Please don’t use language like that Chianne, but thank you for the invitation. I’m very flattered.” Kat opened the envelope and looked at the childish party invite: Cinema, bowling and booze up, it said. She pursed her lips and frowned. “I’m so sorry. I’m away at my parents that weekend.”

  Chianne huffed and blew hot air up towards her solid black quiff and was about to have a tantrum. Suddenly she decided to change tact. She fluttered her stubby eyelashes. “Maybe we could just do something another time?” She tried to lean against the door way and look sexy, but ended up missing the frame and struggling to keep her balance.

  Kat reached for her hand. “Oops, there you go. Thanks for the offer, but no, we can’t do anything for a number of reasons.” She smiled, “...but I’m pleased I’m back in your good books.” Trying to make light of the situation was her only option.

  Chianne flung the supporting hand back towards its owner, “Well you ain’t no more!” and stomped off into the pale blue corridor.

  “I think somebody likes you,” whistled Ben, enjoying the opportunity to return Kat’s earlier comment.

  She watched as Chianne strode heavily towards the double doors, banging her fist against a bullying display as she went. Kat shook her head and returned to her seat, genuinely confused. “I have no idea what to do with that girl.”

  “That was a girl?!”

  She laughed. “Stop it Ben! It’s just that one minute she hates me and is trying to get me to make mistakes in the lesson, questioning everything I say and offering alternative arguments.”

  “That’s a good thing, isn’t it? I’m being serious now. We always want the students to have their own views and develop their own arguments.”

  “I know, and she’s smart ... and I mean abnormally clever, but she has no clue on how to behave. She’s clearly doing all of Chantelle’s work for her and I know Chantelle will fail the end of term test next week ... and then I will have to ask her to leave the course ... and then Chianne is going to be even harder to handle!”

  Ben grinned. “Does she get on your bus?�


  “Chianne?! Will you please stop it!” Kat laughed. “I came in here for a quiet free period.”

  “So did I,” said Ben, momentarily pulled back into the place he wanted to avoid.

  “But no, she doesn’t get on my bus. She is constantly showing Chantelle footage of her latest escapade with Davey Jakes.”

  “Good old Davey Jakes. It takes a real man to master something like Chianne.”

  Kat paused and thought carefully. “But I can’t figure her out. I have no idea who she is.”

  “Do you really want to know?”

  “Yes, actually I do. I had just assumed that she was a bottom set bully who got the jibes in before others had the chance. Did you realise she was so clever?”

  Ben shook his head. “No, I have never actually had the pleasure of teaching her, but she certainly hides it well.”

  Kat nodded her head in decision. “I think I need to peel back all of her layers and discover her inner beauty.”

  “Well you’ll need an industrial strength potato peeler to get through all of that lot!”

  Kat stood up and patted her tight black skirt down to her knees and smiled. “Right that’s it. I’m going to finish this free period in my room.”

  Ben didn’t complain; the turmoil was pulling him back in, begging to be resolved. “Meet you in here at four?”

  “Yep,” she said pausing at the door. “Freya has got her new friend Renee coming round this evening.”

  Ben grinned. “So we finally get to meet her then?”

  “We do indeed,” said Kat with an official nod.

  ****

  Kat actually felt quite nervous entering her own apartment, and judged it as a strange apprehension of the confirmation of her suspicions. Freya had settled into university life with the expected ease, quickly adjusting to the diverse timetable of lectures, seminars and practical classroom based lessons. Kat had heard all about the gloriously traditional Gaynor Newman, who clearly had a crush on the ever so shy Gregory ‘who always wears elbow patches’ Taylor, and Elaine Springer with the triangle glasses, crazy dress sense and refreshingly inspirational approach to education. Yes, thought Kat, Freya’s descriptions were clear ... well mostly. The only person on the course that she could not properly picture was Renee Eves.

 

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