Room 2D

From Uniform Girls 7 She is gone now, my blonde, slim-legged, English rose who turned out to be not at all the innocent I had first thought. Not innocent, in fact rather knowing and not at all unwilling. A true delight. Mr Bartingly, that next door neighbour, had done a very effective job. Yes, Miranda and her mother have returned to the dank shores of England, Miranda with, I fear, no great improvement in her skill on the flute. Still I did my best, in musical terms as in other ways and I think I can say I taught that young Miss a thing or two. I would now be feeling her absence more and indeed for two whole days I was quite bereft but then, as can happen when the fortunes smile, a rapturous replacement appeared right out of the blue. A Scottish lass. Not at all unlike Miranda as it happens, she could well be another English rose except for that decided burr in her speech. Fiona and her mother are from Edinburgh, the metropol...

From Uniform Girls 7 ‘ Please  stop that,’ she pleaded, and not for the first time. ‘I just can’t  concentrate  with your hand  there .’ Naturally I made no attempt to comply with this request. I have long ago learnt to ignore the pleadings of adolescent girls. No, I kept my hand exactly where it was. ‘The point is you have to  learn  to concentrate, Miranda. Can you imagine yourself standing up in front of a concert hall full of people? That takes  real  self-control and discipline and that is precisely why I have my hand where it is: so that you can learn to play in the face of distraction. I should be very surprised if your tutor at home didn’t do something very similar.’ Where I had my hand of course was between Miranda’s legs. Between her upper thighs in fact, my hand gripping the silky inner surface of her delicious right limb just below her knickers. Miranda was standing close in...