Sex education- the interview

Hmm, maybe the blue, no, it has a hole in the leg. Cassandra Lynx looked over the contents of her suit case, strewn all over the bed and floor of her hotel room. With a job interview in less than an hour’s time everything was prepared, everything that was apart from what she was going to wear.
The black skirt is too short and the pink one couldn’t look less professional if it had hippy flowers scattered all over it.
She had had it all figured out, a dark grey suit with a long grey skirt, all elegantly cut but nothing gaudy. Cassandra had no need to hide behind extravagant clothes; her natural beauty spoke for its self. At fourteen she had reached five foot six and stopped growing upwards, which wasn’t to say she stopped growing. Now twenty five her once wispy body had fleshed out in all of the right places, though she was slim her breasts were rounded and firm with pink little nipples and her firm round ass drew just as many eyes.
Unfortunately Cassandra had two trips to go on in one week, one job interview down in Dorset where she now stood, and one trip to Amsterdam with some friends with a very different dress code. Organised as always she had packed both in advance so that when she arrived at home she could simply pick up her second case, have a cup of tea and head off to the air port. Unfortunately she had picked up the wrong case. So her perfect grey suit was two hundred miles away and after dismissing clothes clearly unsuitable for the task she was left with a few outfits, none of which could be called conservative, all designed to enhance her asset’s and draw men’s eyes.
God, after how I lost the last job this is the last thing I need!
“It will have to be the black,” she sighed, it was perhaps the most scandalous of her three options, but at least it wasn’t damaged or iridescent.
Decision made she began to dress; a black silk thong was the most respectable underwear she had, and so, like the skirt, would have to do. Black silk stockings followed. On top she settled on a white and black corset, usually she would wear it alone, today it served for underwear and was quickly covered over by a tight cream white blouse showing entirely too much cleavage. The short black skirt followed and finally black heeled shoes finished off the outfit.
Gazing into the full length wall mirror Cassandra smoothed down silky black hair and, aware that she looked like a cross between a banker’s intern and that same bankers whore steeled herself for one of the more embarrassing interviews of a life time and set off out the door, taking only a small leather handbag to distract stares from her provocative attire.
The corridor was, mercifully, empty. Cassandra never had been shy, and in the right circumstances she gloried in the admiring stares of others. Today though things were different, today she was aiming for decorum and impeccable respectability; a skirt cut off two thirds of way up the thigh would make this difficult.
Still, I am not going to cancel the first teaching job interview in a year because I brought the wrong suitcase. Come on Casey, dignity and poise.
So thinking Cassandra strode into the hotel lobby, luckily at five in the evening there appeared to be no guests around. For a moment Cassandra thought she might get to her car without meeting anyone.
Oh no, behind the desk. Sure enough behind the front desk the elderly owner of the small hotel gazed at her, his eyes registering surprise mixed with lust and appreciation. Cassandra had to fight hard to keep her face still and composed; part of her enjoyed his stares, it was nice to be appreciated after all. On the other hand the man knew her name and why she was here. In a small town like Birchly the news would undoubtedly spread as stories were told over a pint to the old lecher’s friends, then again to those men’s wives, then every pensioner in town followed by their daughters gossiping at the school gates as they dropped their children off in the morning.
If by some miracle I get the job half the town will think I slept with the headmaster to do it, at best.
Unconsciously she quickened her stride and was soon sitting in her car, an aging soft top still beautiful but in dire need of some attention. When it came to luxuries Cassandra rarely got round to considering car maintenance. Still, today at least she started up smoothly, it was not far to the school and Cassandra enjoyed the ride. It was with regret and apprehension that she pulled up to the school.
The students were all long gone and there was something almost eerie about the silence and the shadows in the windows. Birchly hall was an imposing structure, the private school had once been a stately home and an engraving in the foyer proudly listed the important personages who had visited, from Elizabeth I to Lord Byron. Very few lights could still be seen but the entrance was clear enough, sliding out of her car Cassandra headed for it. The great oaken double doors were not locked and opened easily, walking in Cassandra found herself in an impressive entrance hall dimly lit by light filtering out of a small room of to one side. After a moment Cassandra approached and rapped on the half open door.
“Oh!” Inside a small woman jumped up from the stack of papers she had been shifting from one corner of the office to her desk.
“I’m sorry,” she said, smoothing down her slightly rumpled dress “You startled me.”
She was young, this woman, probably a couple of years younger than Cassandra herself. She was quite pretty in a demure kind of way, though she would be unlikely to catch the eye in a crowded room. For a moment the two appraised on another, the woman hardly batting an eyelid at Cassandra’s unusual take on the appropriate dress code.
Realising that she was hovering Cassandra took another step into the small office,
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to surprise you. I am Cassandra Lynx.” She received only a blank stare from the woman she presumed must be a receptionist or a secretary or something of the kind.
“I’m here for a job interview…” She elaborated.
Comprehension dawned in the woman’s eyes
“Ah yes, I should have known. It’s been in the diary for long enough. I’m Jane Goodman, the school secretary. You will be wanting the headmaster, Mr Andrews; his office is on the next floor up. Walk straight down the hall, take the stairs to your left then go right. His office is the sixth door on the right.”
Cassandra thanked the secretary and did as she was bidden, feeling somewhat out of place as her heals clicked loudly on the polished wooden floor. The staircase wasn’t far and soon Cassandra found herself outside of the headmaster’s door, half hoping he had gotten the date wrong and wasn’t in she knocked.
“Come in.”
So much for that idea. She thought. Trying to push aside nerves she pushed open the door and walked inside.
The headmaster’s office was spacious; a pair of leather armchairs in front of a fire stood off to one side and an imposing wooden desk dominated the room. Books in glass cabinets covered most of the wall space on subjects ranging from the sack of Carthage to particle physics. Overall it gave the impression of wealth refined with age and taste. Cassandra could well imagine it being the study of some long dead lord; it radiated academia coupled with masculinity and quiet authority. Room aside it was time to meet the man himself. He sat behind the desk, as she walked in he put aside the pile of paperwork he had been endeavouring to deal with
Probably a never ending task, she thought; if he manages half the stack tonight I will bet it will be twice as high in the morning. That though was not her problem, she wasn’t after his job.
The headmaster was of average size, overtopping Cassandra by several inches. He was perhaps in his late forties, grey hair just beginning to dominate over the black. He was a fairly good looking man, he may well have been very handsome in his youth and even now Cassandra thought it would be no hardship to be fucked by him. Not that she had any intention of that of course.
Standing, Mr Andrews motioned to the chairs in front of the fire. Cassandra settled into one armchair while the headmaster took a seat opposite.
“Good evening,” He began, holding out his hand. Casey shook it
“I am Charles Andrews and you….” he said, relaxing back into the arm chair
“must be Miss Lynx”
Cassandra smiled
“Call me Casey, please.”
“Of course, Casey. Call me Charles; I don’t think there is any need to stand on ceremony, although.” He paused, eyeing her almost ostentatiously
“We do not usually take to quite such informal clothes in school hours.”
Cassandra’s face reddened despite her efforts to prevent it, though she otherwise remained calm, outwardly at least.
“I’m sorry, there was a … mix up, with my luggage, and there was no time to rectify it. I would not normally dress this way.
Charles smiled
“No indeed; however I must say I was expecting something of the kind.”
Cassandra felt butterflies begin to pound on her stomach from inside
“Oh,” She said, unsure of how much he knew about her past “Why is that?”
“Well your conduct in your last teaching post naturally. Hardly usual practise.”
At this point the butterflies abandoned conventional means and broke out the jack hammers. Charles seemed not at all perturbed by her uncomfortable silence.
“Unusual, but I have only second and third hand accounts, no doubt the truth has been somewhat distorted. Perhaps you would be good enough to explain, from the beginning.
Ok, well he knows and he hasn’t thrown me out of the building. Briefly she considered lying, downplaying the whole fiasco. But somehow she thought that wouldn’t work, this Charles Andrews did not seem like a man to be easily duped, especially if he knew the basics already. But perhaps, by telling her story in full, as she had never been allowed to before, he might understand.
It’s worth a shot at least.
“Alright, from the beginning. Well I suppose if you want to hear the full story I had better start with some rather…intimate, details about myself.” She took a deep breath and continued, to get this over and done with quickly.
God, why go through this? I could just walk away. No! The potential reward is worth the risk, if he is of a like mind. I found one before after all.
“I first lost my virginity to an older man; I was fifteen and he thirty. He was an experienced lover and I learned a great deal from him. After a few months he left me, I cannot even recall the reason why, it doesn’t matter. The next man I had sex with, I say man, was my own age, unpractised and clumsy. Of course then I had only my older man to compare him to and thought the fault with him. Over the months and years of course I discovered the obvious; that teenagers must learn how to be good at sex much as they must learn everything else. But this takes far longer than it should because society forces them to find their own way, many never become proficient at all which is a waste and means that there is less pleasure in the world than there otherwise might be. Sex should be taught in school, and not just facts and figures. But though I suspect most of those who would receive the lessons would be enthusiastic, others think that it’s perverted. I do not believe they understand my motives, their morality is outdated. Teenagers will have sex whatever we do, I don’t think teaching about it would increase the rate very much, if at all. But it would help them for the whole of their lives and help them avoid bad experiences.” She paused, but Charles merely motioned for her to continue.
Somewhat more calmly she did so
“I became a teacher, English, as I am sure you know, is my main subject. Various life choices lead me to Australia where I found a job in a high school. The headmaster there and I had a relationship and during the course of it my views on this subject came up. To my surprise he agreed with me and decided to set up an optional sex education class. We explained to the students, all at least sixteen, what was to happen and also explained that if it became public that the class would have to be closed. Well the class went on for several months and many of the students made real progress, so far as was ever found none of the students had talked; but one of the governors found out and all was exposed. The rest I expect you know, I returned to England after being evicted from Australia and banned from returning. Luckily the school and the government both wanted to keep the incident as quiet as possible so no further action was taken, but I have not been able to teach since. Usually employers only hear that I was banished from Australia and close the door, others hear more of the story and slam it. You are the first to hear it all.” She fell silent, waiting for his response.
“So,” he said after a long, drawn out moment. “I take it you are still in favour of this? Your experience with the law did not change your mind?”
Once again Cassandra considered lying, but she had come this far.
“Yes,” She confirmed, more boldly than she felt “Though of course not without permission from the school.” Realising she had slowly edged forward on the chair Cassandra sat back and folded her hands in the lap.
“It just so happens that I agree with you Miss Lynx.”
“You do?” She could not keep a note of surprise from entering her voice.
Once again Charles smiled
“Yes I do, and I would like you to take up the position of social sciences teacher, part of which shall be a voluntary class in practical sex education for year 11 students. I would like you to set it up for the new term.”
Cassandra was momentarily speechless, and delighted. This was far more than she had ever hoped for.
“Yes!” She gasped finally. “I mean I accept, but I would prefer two classes if you don’t mind. I find it better to separate the boys and the girls, at least at first.”
“Of course,” he said “You know far better than I in this area I am sure. I assume that you yourself are, as you put it ‘proficient’ when it comes to sex?”
“Well, yes. I would say that I was.”
“There are some, I am sure, who would call a woman such as yourself a slut Miss Lynx.”
“Yes, I suppose there are.”
“What do you think?”
Cassandra considered
“I suppose I am a slut, in a way. But I don’t consider that to be a bad thing. If I were a man it would not be seen as a bad trait, its’ just outdated chauvinistic stereotypes that stigmatise women who take pleasure when they find it.”
Charles fell silent and considered.
“There is one more thing; before I give you the job I am afraid I must see for myself that you are indeed able to educate the young adults of this school. Birchly hall maintains the highest of standards and even in this area; I will not let that slip.”
Casey smiled
“Of course,” With no further ado she set her purse to one side and slid of the chair and onto her knees before the headmaster. As she reached for his crotch she noticed it begin to bulge as he hardened in anticipation. Taking this bulge she stroked him through his trousers, gently massaging him. Slowly she took his fly zip and pulled it down; slowly still she slid her hands up to the waist and pulled the trousers down. Charles’ erection was now covered only by a thin layer of cotton; Casey gently tugged down his underwear to join his trousers gathered around his ankles uncovering his throbbing seven inch cock.
Not the biggest, she mused but certainly not bad.
With practised ease she took him into her mouth, tongue flickering over his head. Charles let out a low moan and she smiled around his cock. Slowly and carefully she pushed forwards, letting his cock slide down her throat, then, when it was half way in she pulled back. Above her she could hear Charles moan softly in pleasure. Gently she sucked the tip of his penis, teasing it with her mouth. When she decided it had been long enough she deep throated once again, this time she did not pull back, inch after inch she swallowed him until everything was in her mouth. Casey began to slide back and forth, his cock sliding inside her. After several long moments the urge to gag became nigh overwhelming and she pulled out, only to take his balls in one hand and begin again.
The headmaster groaned and grasped a handful of Casey’s sleek black hair and began to thrust forwards, meeting her movements with his own. His cock began hitting the back of her mouth as he throat fucked her. Sensing that he was close to cuming Cassandra pulled back once more, bending lower she took one ball into her mouth and gently sucked on it, rolling it around with her tongue as the headmaster groaned. After a moment she released it and took the other ball between her lips, licking and kissing before taking it in and sucking it as she had the first.
Up above her Charles tugged on her hair and she released his testicles and smiled. Once more she ran her tongue up his throbbing shaft and licked of a film of pre-cum. The headmaster pulled her forwards and Cassandra opened her mouth wide, taking his cock down her throat again and bobbing back and forth as he thrust in time. After ten long minuets Charles gasped
“God, I’m going to cum!”
No sooner had the words left his mouth than his cum began to fill hers, pouring out in great spurts. Cassandra did not move away but swallowed mouthful after mouthful, greedily sucking it down.
Finally the flow stopped and she cleaned the last drops from his softening cock with her tongue. When it was all gone she sat back in her chair and licked one last drop from her bottom lip. Charles was lounging back in his chair, eyes closed and a look of contentment on his face. After a minuet he opened his eyes and pulled up his underwear and trousers.
“Yes, well I think we have established that you know what you are doing. Welcome on board Miss Lynx. Officially off course your title shall be social sciences teacher, but privately I am afraid you must have a different title known to the staff and the board of governors,” Her surprise must have been clear for he said “Oh yes the governors are well aware I was looking for someone to fill this post, they are fully behind it.”
“Very well,” She said “what title?”
“Staff slut Miss Lynx. You are to be our staff slut.”
Casey thought about it
“Very well,” She said “though I think I would see that as another post entirely, on top of teaching duties.”
Charles smiled
“I think you will fit in well at Birchly hall Miss Lynx. The new term begins after the summer holidays finish, which is in two weeks time. You will begin work on out return.”
Cassandra smiled and got up to leave, when she was at the door the headmaster called out
“Oh Miss Lynx, amongst the staff you may dress as you wish, but in front of the students do try to wear something a little more appropriate.”