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Copyright © 1998-2004 - This story may be reproduced, 
providing it is on a non-profit-making basis, and that 
the text is reproduced in its entirety, with these 
warnings intact. You will take responsibility for 
ensuring that it does not fall into the hands of 
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Diary Of A Student Teacher 
by Dave Wallis (foxwell23@hotmail.com)

***

College hijinks, or more like an orgy. (M+/F, nc, ws, 
FF, intr, exh, coll)

***

Cast of characters:

Becky Foxwell - Student teacher, who began this diary 
on 20th Feb 1998, as she was about to begin her final 
teaching practice.

Judy - Becky's black and beautiful flat-mate, with an 
insatiable sexual appetite. Dr Richard Burns - The 
married math lecturer that Becky is screwing, and who 
is also her teaching supervisor.

Malcolm - Another lecturer and PhD student, who was an 
ex-boyfriend of Becky's.
Simon, Philip and Adrian - drunken 1st year students.

SUNDAY 22ND FEBRUARY 1998

After yesterday morning, the day was (literally!) an 
anti-climax. I wondered around doing some housework and 
psyching myself up for teaching practice tomorrow.

In the evening, as always, Judy went out to the 
Students Union. I have to confess that when she did, I 
sneaked into her room and took another look at that 
massive vibrator, feeling its contours and hugging it 
to myself. I thought about what it must be like to have 
that monster buried in my body and reaming out my cunt.

Judy returned after midnight, pissed out of her head as 
usual; with some hapless lad in tow, to be dragged off 
to her bedroom. I didn't hear much after that, so I 
assume that they just fell into unconsciousness.

However, when I dragged myself out of my pit, Judy was 
already in the kitchen. I could her singing as I walked 
down the stairs.

"Hi honey," she said, "I made breakfast."

"Oh great," I mumbled, "Ta." Then as an after thought, 
"What happened to whatsisname?"

"Made him breakfast and sent him on his way."

"You're very bright and breezy this morning," I said, 
"Good, was he?"

"He was crap! But I don't care, because I'm going to 
church! Here go, honey." Judy dropped a coffee and a 
full fried breakfast onto the table in front of me and 
then swept out of the room.

Church. Judy. It seemed incredible, but it was true. 
She had hooked up to this black Pentecostal Church a 
few years back, and although she didn't go every week, 
she was quite a regular attendee... Which seemed 
totally at odds with her lifestyle.

She claimed that she went to be with "her people", but 
I'm pretty sure that her upbringing wasn't Pentecostal 
or even religious. Sometimes I felt that she went just 
for show - a lot of students get involved in outrageous 
things, because in large institutions like universities 
it is important to find definition in your life and to 
know that you are different from the rest of the crowd. 
I think.

On the couple of occasions that she dragged me along 
with her, I found it even more of a contradiction. They 
were fun and lively, but they had very strict, almost 
Victorian morals. I couldn't possibly imagine Judy 
fitting in there. But they all thought that she was 
wonderful. A very respectable young lady, training to 
be a teacher and a pillar of the community. 

It was not even as if she dressed down for the church. 
She always wore a smart skirt-suit, but it often left 
little to the imagination and even I thought she looked 
damned sexy! But she was so unconsciously sexy and gave 
off such an air of innocence, that I don't think 
anybody dared to criticise her. If men stared at her, 
they were sharply brought back into line, by their 
wives and mothers. Judy could do no wrong.

I munched my breakfast, until I heard a bright and 
breezy, "See ya," from Judy and the slamming of the 
front door. Then I went upstairs and ran myself a bath.

In my bath I thought about Judy and men and my 
relationship with Richard. I thought about Judy's 
comment to me yesterday about shagging 50 year old math 
lecturers.

As I've said, I have always been drawn to older men. 
Even as a first year student, I dated one of the 
lecturers, although admittedly he was only a PhD 
student and therefore no more than 10 years older than 
me. That was Malcolm and he was the one who first dared 
me to go about town with no knickers on. He was a bit 
of a perv like that and had lots of magazines and 
videos of women with a strange aversion to wearing 
anything under their dresses (in fact, Judy doesn't 
know it, but I still have some of them at the flat!).

I have to admit that the first time I did it, I was 
absolutely terrified. I imagined that every man had x-
ray specs or that I was perpetually leaking cunt juice 
(Quick joke: Why do women have legs? Have you seen the 
mess that snails make?).

But I gradually got bolder. I would wear shorter and 
shorter skirts, made of flimsier material. I don't 
think I ever looked tarty, but I began to enjoy the 
stares that men gave me and the sense of danger I 
experienced. Their need to stare gave me a strange kind 
of power over them. But I was also very vulnerable if 
they one day decided that staring wasn't enough.

On the day that Malcolm decided to ditch me I was 
wearing a skimpy summer dress (and looking *damn hot* I 
must say) and no knickers. When he'd stumbled to the 
conclusion of all he had to say, I said nothing. 
Instead, I turned my back to him and went huffily up 
the stairs to the Math block. Because the building was 
almost deserted, or so I thought, I decided to flash 
him. I whistled down the stairs and as he looked up I 
gave him a quick glimpse of the treasures that he would 
never see again.

Unfortunately, I suddenly realised that I was not alone 
on the stairs. In my temper, I had not noticed Dr Burns 
climbing the stairs behind me. Our eyes met and locked 
for several embarrassing seconds. Then I looked down 
and saw a sticky damp stain spreading across the front 
of his trousers. Poor Richard mumbled something 
incomprehensible and we both fled in opposite 
directions.

Of course, in a small department, we could not avoid 
each other or the subject for long. I told him that I 
did not always go around with no underwear on. He said 
that was a shame. And... Well, as I say, I have a thing 
about older men. Suffice it to say that when I visit 
Richard now I rarely cover up down under.

...

Well that's as far as I got with my diary this morning. 
It's now 1:00 AM on Monday morning and I have sneaked 
downstairs to write a bit more.

Judy came back from church on an emotional high, 
telling me that we were going to have a great party on 
Tuesday night. It seems that she has decided to give up 
sex for Lent and wants to go out with a bang (literally 
I suspect) the day before it begins (great, just want 
we need on the first week of our teaching practice!).

Anyway, in order to let people know that it is 
happening, Judy persuaded me to go out to the Students 
Union tonight - which again, I was reluctant to do with 
my placement starting tomorrow (well, today now!).

When we got down there, the place was packed out. And, 
yes, most of them were 4th year students celebrating 
their last night of freedom before teaching began.

I got the drinks, whilst Judy went round the bar, 
excitedly telling people about the party on Tuesday 
night.

Later in the evening, three drunken first year students 
decided to try and chat us up. I groaned inwardly, but 
Judy smiled and chatted and laughed with them; and they 
bought all the drinks. That is Judy's trick: She goes 
out every night - and can afford to - because she 
almost never buys the drinks. She always finds some 
male to buy them for her, because he thinks his luck is 
in. And in fairness, Judy rarely leaves them 
disappointed.

I got up to go to the toilet, but Adrian (one of the 
1st years) said why didn't I do it there and then.

I said, "What!?!"

"I said, 'Why not do it where you're sitting,'" he 
slurred, "I mean you're not wearing any knickers, are 
you?"

I went cold: "What d'you mean?" I said.

"Everybody knows. They call you Nicholas in the Rugby 
Club... Knickerless, geddit?" He grinned inanely. I 
could hardly believe what I was hearing. I mean I've 
always been a bit of an exhibitionist, but I was 
shocked and worried to find that I had a reputation.

"Well," I said, with as much dignity as I could muster, 
"I am certainly wearing them now."

"Don't believe you!" chimed in Philip, another of the 
first years.

"Prove it," said James, grabbing at my skirt.

Then they all started chanting: "Knickerless! 
Knickerless" very loudly and drunkenly.

I fled the room. Unfortunately, the toilets were on the 
other side of the bar, so I headed for the exit 
instead. As the cold night air hit me I suddenly found 
I needed to go to the toilet more than ever. I ran to 
the university building. It was locked! Damn, I should 
have realised!

I ran back to the bar and tried to find somewhere to 
squat down, behind the building. I leaned against the 
wall, hitched up my skirt and started pulling my 
panties down to my ankles.

"Blimey! You were wearing them after all said Philip."

I looked up. The three lads were all there. They had 
followed me out of the bar and were now leering down at 
me.

"Piss Off!" I shouted.

"Unfortunate choice of words," said Philip, observing 
my squatting position.

"I'm sorry, Becky," said Adrian drunkenly, dragging me 
to my feet and into a bear hug, "I should never have 
doubted you."

"Will you fuck off, before I piss on you," I grunted. 
Then: "Oh shit," as I felt a trickle escape.

Adrian jumped back and I saw that I had soaked the 
front of his jeans.

"Eeuuugghh!" he cried, "I'm all wet."

Then Adrian immediately set about removing his wet 
clothes. As his jeans came off, his massively erect 
cock sprang out.

"Looks like you were more excited than you thought you 
were," commented Simon, "I reckon she ought to piss on 
you again. It might grow some more!" With that, Simon 
and Philip threw Adrian to the ground and pinned him 
down.

"C'mon Bex," shouted Simon, "finish him off."

I looked at Adrian, hard, horny and naked from the 
waist down, as he struggled under his two friends. 
"Look," I said, "can't you all just fuck off and leave 
me in peace. I *really* need to pee."

"Well, come on then." Simon and Philip grabbed my arms 
and yanked me down towards Adrian's throbbing crotch. 
His prick prodded hard into my cunt and that was it, 
the floodgates opened. I pissed for ages over his huge 
erection. It was such a relief to release all that 
tension in my bladder that I almost forgot that I was 
doing this in public. Adrian's face registered a 
confused mixture of revulsion and desire, as my urine 
ran over his skin in torrents.

As I saturated poor Adrian, I hardly noticed that Simon 
and Philip had released my arms and were fiddling with 
the zips on their own trousers. But I was soon to be 
made all too aware of their intentions, because just as 
my liquid ran out, theirs began. The pair of them 
started to piss an evening's recycled beer over Adrian 
and myself.

It was warm and steaming in the night air and, for a 
moment, almost pleasant.

But then I woke up to the reality of what they were 
doing.

"Aaarrgh! You bastards!" I screamed in a not very lady-
like manner, "I'm soaked!" But they were oblivious to 
my cries, lost in the release of their tightened 
bladders.

Finally, they stopped pissing and started giggling, 
falling against each other as if it was all some great 
big joke.

"What the hell's going on here?" It was Judy.

"Th...they pi...pissed all over me," I stammered, 
adding "I'm fr...freezing!"

"Well, get out of these soaking wet things," said Judy, 
helping me out of my piss-sodden dress. I hardly cared 
that this left me naked. "What are you looking at?" 
Judy demanded of the lads, "which one of you is going 
to lend her some clothes, after what you did to her?" 
Adrian made a move to remove his sweatshirt, but Judy 
said, "Not you, you're as soaked as she is."

Finally, Philip lent me his sweatshirt and I dried 
myself off with it. Then Simon lent me his and I put it 
on. Judy and I took our leave of the lads and made our 
way back to the house that we shared.

I became aware that Judy was staggering, more even than 
I was. She had drunk a lot more than me and it was 
beginning to take its toll.

Still, Judy got me home and helped me, still shivering, 
to bed. Then she took off her clothes and climbed in 
beside me. Judy held me tight and I began to thaw out 
against the pleasant warmth of her naked body. My face 
was nuzzled cozily between her breasts and I felt very 
secure.

Judy stroked my hair and I looked up at her face and 
her lips. Somehow I felt drawn to them. Then Judy 
inclined her head to me and our lips met. We kissed 
tenderly and I hugged her close. Then we drew apart.

"Judy..." I said after a moment. But there was no 
reply. I looked again at my flat-mate and realised that 
she was now fast asleep. Well I did say that she had 
been drinking a lot more than me!

But now I am left with a dilemma. Will she remember 
that kiss tomorrow morning? And will it change things 
between us?

END

Comments and criticisms are welcome at my e-mail 
address foxwell2@hotmail.com (Dave Wallis). And if you 
have any personal fantasies or scenarios that you would 
like me to consider for suture stories they are also 
welcome.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Please keep this story, and all erotic stories out of
the hands of children. They should be outside playing
in the sunshine, not thinking about adult situations.

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