Date: Wed, 25 Mar 2009 18:51:11 -0700 (PDT)
From: jessicajaneroberts@yahoo.com
Subject: Supply Teacher's Helping Hand

Amy sat on her stool in the science room, and stared down at the two
diagrams on the desk in front of her.  The image in the book was so much
more complicated than the one on the worksheet that the supply teacher had
given them.  Biting her lip nervously, she gazed around at the other boys
and girls in her class, looking for signs that they might be struggling
too.  Everyone was hard at work.  She moved her gaze over to Miss Wilson,
the supply teacher who had given them this particular piece of work.
Mr. Chapman, the regular science teacher, was off sick.  Miss Wilson, an
attractive woman with long, blond hair in her late twenties, was marking
some work from a previous lesson.  She must have sensed that Amy was
watching her, because she looked up and met the young girls gaze.  With a
quick look round the classroom, she put down the red biro she was marking
with and stood up from her chair, crossing the room to where Amy was
working at the middle bench.

  "Are you ok?" she asked, smiling sweetly and looking down at Amy's
worksheet and the open textbook next to it.

  "I'm struggling a bit," Amy said nervously.  At her age she knew she
should be more knowledgeable about her own body.  She looked back at the
two diagrams of the female reproductive system.  The one in the book was
covered with so many lines and labels, that it was almost impossible to
make out the actual parts themselves.  The picture on her sheet, though,
only had about five items to label.

  "It does look a little complicated, doesn't it?"  Miss Wilson agreed.
"Tell you what, come over to my desk with me, and I'll give you a hand."



Amy followed the teacher back to her desk, and sat down on the small stool
beside her.  Miss Wilson sat down next to her.

  "Pull your stool in a bit closer," she said, as she picked up the red pen
she had been using for marking, and pushed away the open exercise book that
was still in front of her.  Amy did as she was instructed, as her teacher
pulled the textbook and the worksheet closer so they could both read it.

  "It may seem a little complicated," Miss Wilson continued.  The
schoolgirl was so intent on the part of the diagram she was indicating,
that she hardly noticed the cool hand that was suddenly placed on her leg
just below the hem of her skirt.  "But it really isn't that difficult to
understand."  As she continued speaking, the supply teacher slowly moved
her hand up Amy's leg, under her skirt.  Amy swallowed nervously, but
didn't do or say anything.  She just kept her eyes on the papers on the
teacher's desk.  The desk obscured the view for the rest of the class, so
they had no idea what was going on.  Miss Wilson continued to speak as her
hand slipped under the edge of the girl's knickers.  Her gaze, however,
remained on the two diagrams on the table.



  "This is your vulva," Miss Wilson began, as she ran two fingers along the
length of Amy's outer lips.  Amy shuddered at the sensation as the older
woman's fingers caressed her vagina.  "Are you going to label it?"  The
teacher looked down into Amy's eyes and smiled.  Amy nodded and picked up
her pen from the table.  As she began to write, the fingers made a final
journey up the length of her slit, and came to rest at the top.  "Your
clitoris is here," Miss Wilson continued, as she began to explore the area.
Amy was getting quite wet by now, and it wasn't difficult to expose the
precious pearl.  Amy, who was only half way through writing the word
'vulva', dropped her pen as her clit emerged from its hood, and was gentle
grazed by the nails of her teacher's probing fingers.  She closed her eyes
and inhaled sharply, biting her lip to prevent a louder moan from escaping.
"Come on, Amy.  Your falling behind with your labels," the teacher
whispered, softly.  "I'll hang on while you catch up," and the fingers
began to rub and press on the hard nipple at the top of Amy's vagina.  The
girl picked up her pen and tried to write, as she struggled to control her
breathing.  She finished 'vulva' and moved her pen up the diagram to the
next empty space.

  "H-h-how do you s-s-spell it?"  She managed to stammer.

  "Spell what, dear?" the teacher asked, although it was obvious which part
Amy was waiting to label.

  "C-c-clit-or-is." Amy arched her back and tipped back her head slightly
as Miss Wilson continued her stimulation.  Then she began to copy the word
down, a letter at a time as the teacher dictated it to her.

  "Good," Miss Wilson said, once the girl had finished writing.  "Now we
can move on to your labia," she continued, peeling Amy's inner lips apart
and making the girl shiver.  As her petals opened up around the older
woman's fingers, Amy felt her juices begin to flow, and a wet patch formed
on the crotch of her knickers.  Amy's breathing was much heavier now, and
feelings she had never felt before were being to form between her legs and
deep inside her.  She glanced around the room, sure that someone would have
noticed what was going on.  Most of the class still had their heads down
over their work, although a couple were chatting amongst themselves.  Amy
closed her eyes, and this time did nothing to stop the small gasp of
pleasure that emerged as the fingers traced around the edge of her inner
lips.  Every now and then, Miss Wilson allowed her fingertips to dip just
inside her passage and explore the entrance.

  "Aren't you labelling your diagram," Miss Wilson whispered softly into
her ear.  Amy opened her eyes and looked down to see that she had dropped
her pen.  Her hands were now gripping the edge of the desk tightly, and her
legs were spread wide.  She had unconsciously opened them in order to allow
the older woman easier access to her interior.

  "I'll finish it when I get back to my desk," she whispered.  "Please,
carry on."

  "Ok," Miss Wilson replied.  "But don't forget what I'm teaching you,
alright?"  Amy sighed an acknowledgment, and closed her eyes again.  Miss
Wilson inserted the rest of her hand into Amy's damp knickers, stretching
the opening.  "This is your vagina," she said, sliding two fingers deep
inside the girl's wet opening.  Amy's moans became louder, and she began to
rock backwards and forwards, rubbing herself against her teacher's hand.
"Hush, darling," Miss Wilson whispered into her ear.  "your going to scare
the children."  Amy sniggered, and opened her eyes a little.  Now that she
remembered where she was and how much noise she had made, she half expected
every eye in the class to be on her.  Instead, she saw there was only one
person looking at her.  It was Amanda, a pretty, slim brunette on the first
row.  Amanda gave her a knowing smile, which Amy returned, and then went
back to her own work.  Miss Wilson's fingers continued to slide in and out
of Amy's vagina, making slurping noises as they did so.  "This last one
isn't on the diagram, but you might want to know where your g-spot is," she
whispered.  Miss Wilson reinserted her fingers and gently bent them
upwards, exploring the roof of Amy's vagina.  Amy once more began to moan
at this new invasion, and pushed forward, trying to get the fingers to
penetrate deeper.  "No, baby.  What I'm looking for is nearer the front.
Just relax and enjoy it."  Amy did as she was told, relaxing her body and
once more arching her back.  Her head tipped back further, the back of it
now touching her teacher's large breasts behind her.  Miss Wilson brought
up her free hand, the one that wasn't ravaging the teenager's vagina, and
placed it over the girl's face so it covered her eyes.  With this hold over
her, Miss Wilson gently pulled Amy backwards into the soft warmth of her
breasts.

  "Miss Wilson, I need to pee," the teenager moaned, as the pressure on her
g-spot increased.

  "No, you don't darling.  Just enjoy it," she responded, and grinned as
she felt the muscles in Amy's vagina walls tighten around her fingers.  She
continued to apply more pressure, her wet fingers now moving around with
ease inside Amy's vagina.  The girl gasped and moaned as her whole body
shook and shuddered.  Miss Wilson had lowered her hand on Amy's face, so
that it covered her mouth.  She was anticipating the noise that the
teenager was likely to make any minute, and she was not mistaken.  Amy's
whole body stiffened, and a groan that would have been a scream emerged
from her mouth, muffled by the teacher's hand.  Then her whole body went
limp, and she leant forward, her head over the table.

  "How was that?" Miss Wilson asked, as she extracted her fingers from
Amy's vagina, and removed her hand from her knickers.

  "That was nice," the girl murmured.  There was a glazed, drugged like
expression on her face.  Miss Wilson gently patted her on the crotch of her
knickers then, with her dry hand, pulled the worksheet and textbook to
within grasping distance of the student.

  "Go and write it up, then," she said as Amy got groggily to her feet, and
pushed the stool back under the chair.  Picking up her materials, Amy stood
and walked, stumbling slightly, back towards her desk.  When she reached
her own bench, she pulled the chair out, seated herself and looked back
towards the teacher at the front of the room.  Miss Wilson was looking
directly at her, and smiling.  As Amy continued to watch, she raised her
wet hand to her lips, and traced a line along her lower lip with the two
fingers that had been inside Amy's vagina.  Her lower lip glistened briefly
like glossy lipstick, and then the tip of her tongue emerged and followed
the path that her fingers had just made.  Once she had licked off all of
Amy's juices, she swallowed.  Shuddering again, Amy returned her attention
to labelling her diagram and Miss Wilson went back to marking her books,
idly sucking the remaining moisture from her fingers.



Copyright Emily Hughs 2005