Old Skool

My partner and I were invited to an Old Skool rave at a friend’s house last weekend. She had not initially understood the invite fully. It was obvious to me but although Val’s English is excellent, it is not her first language and there are subtle cultural differences, which had eluded her. I realised that it was going to be predominantly 90’s music but it was also going to be fancy dress. We were expected to go in school uniform or at least something that would pass as that.
Val was quite surprised. She has never really got her head round this schoolgirl nightclub thing. She feels that there is something odd about young women dressing as provocative schoolgirls, especially as she says the English are so politically aware of child abuse. Apparently this stance is less obvious in some other parts of Europe. I guess one reason is that Italy, like some of the other southern European countries, does not have much tradition in school uniforms in the way England does.
She knows I like to do fancy dress, especially if it gives me a chance to cross dress. So she happily agreed but said I would need to help her get an outfit together. I must say that for my outfit I was very restrained. Rather than do the whole pigtails thing myself, I decided to go for a pervy teacher look. Okay I planned to wear bra, panties, stockings and suspenders, but under a cutaway suit, with my gown and mortarboard.
Val’s outfit on the other hand was the real deal. Within a week of getting the invite, the school near us held a car boot sale to raise money for the parent–teachers association. It was the middle of September and parents were given a chance to buy bargains for their kids, to replace lost or outgrown items from last year. We managed to bag a girl’s blazer, a tie, a skirt and a real teen pair of Mary Jane shoes with the T–bar buckle top. I later added a pair of over the knee, white socks and big white knickers both cheap from Tesco’s. However the real coup was a genuine satchel bought in a charity shop for 50p. Val absolutely loves this and promises to use it when we go out normally.
Come Saturday, we both got ready. I felt excited that I would get to publicly show another side of myself again. I was also looking forward to seeing Val fully kitted out, even though she is now in her mid late twenties, she looks much younger. That would be down to good Mediterranean complexion and years of excellent moisturising.
When she came downstairs, the effect was devastating, cute but definitely sexy. The skirt looked very short on her, as she is tall with legs that go on forever. She had cleverly done very amateurish blue eye shadow and painted on freckles. Normally she is very subtle but creative with makeup, not surprising given her fashion background. She had put her hair into plaits, and from somewhere found a pair of glasses that perched on her nose.
As her ‘teacher’ I felt I should check she was wearing regulation underwear. She was. At least, she was for a while. Despite her concerns about setting off at a reasonable time, I can say that she was not so innocent when we left the house, and had to find her knickers again, but I was happy!
The party was in a big house near Bath. The DJ was excellent and the dancing was brilliant. Knowing the effect she had had on me already, Val played up to her role all evening. She found the shoes very comfortable and was rarely off the dance floor. There were loads of people we knew. The whole crowd were quite arty so had really gone to town. The hostess had even managed to procure some old style tin beakers like schools used to have for dinnertime. I made sure Val’s was kept full as I certainly didn’t want her dehydrating from all her exercise (hee hee), though I was not drinking alcohol myself.
It was about two in the morning when we said good night to everyone and went to our car. We ended up kissing round the back of the marquee that they had hired for the party. It was a bit like having a fumble behind the bike shed really. After a while, we sat on two plastic chairs, chatting for a couple of minutes. Just as we were about to go to the car, Val said that she had better use the loo, as she really needed to go.
Mockingly I told her she had plenty of time to do that at break time but now it was time to get on the school bus. She pleaded with me not to make her wet herself, as it was about an hours drive home. I told her that was not really my problem but now she was a big girl she was expected to think of these things for herself. She got up and quickly straddled my chair, sitting on my lap. She pressed her lips to mine and grabbed me in a tight embrace. Almost instantly I felt the heat on my lap, quickly followed by the wet as it soaked through.
Now she had made it my problem. Despite my earlier performance I was beginning to show a keen interest again. A large hot pool built up between my legs and she started laughing whilst still kissing me. My initial attempts to move had served only to allow her puddle access to the entire seat, ensuring maximum coverage. She kept going for ages until the excess cascaded off the front of the chair down the backs of my legs. I guess she had had to go pretty bad.
After a bit she got up and allowed me to stand. Familiar rivulets tickled as they ran down the backs of my legs. From my waist to my knees was a whole lot darker grey than the rest of my suit. Val was not totally entirely unscathed either. She was able to wring out some liquid from the bottom of the back of her blazer. Her grey pleated skirt had a dark inverted parabola where it had got trapped under her as she sat down hurriedly.
She turned her back to show me the damage. I quickly sat back into the cooling puddle and pulled her face down across my lap. Deftly I flicked her skirt up out of the way, to reveal her soggy cotton knickers, through which I caressed her wet buttocks.
Guessing my intent, she put her hands behind her to protect herself but this only made it easier to grab them. Slowly I eased the slightly transparent panties down and gave her a sharp slap with my free hand. I advised her to try and make less noise unless she wanted to draw attention to herself, as I administered another five stinging strikes. Afterwards I let her go. Initially she fell to the floor, still laughing and trying to shush herself. Although wetting herself is not really her thing, she happily does it to amuse me and to get what she wants too.
Then she ran over to the car and pretended to hide behind it. When I arrived she got up and came to make her peace with me. We ended up in another passionate clinch. She ground herself into me and I quickly knew what she had in mind. She loves to make use of outdoor opportunities, especially when she has to restrain herself vocally. Laying her on her back by the passenger door, I slid off her pants once more. Raising her legs on to my shoulders, I soon gained access to a very inviting place.
This session was less fraught than the earlier one. She began to climax quickly, as is her wont. I was able to keep her there and thereabouts for quite sometime, the situation and drink playing their part also. Satisfied once more, I picked up her knickers and insisted she put them back on. She gamely wrung them out before doing so, which was probably not that pleasant for her but pretty good for me.
She fell asleep on the way back until we got off the motorway. She asked me to stop as she wanted to go again and was finding it much harder to not think about it now she was already wet. We pulled into a lay–by. She simply got out and did not even really look for cover. I joined her on her side of the car. She closed her eyes, relaxed and warmed her damp clothes with a fresh cascade, all down her long white socks. Pulling her close to me I thought I would join her and shared what I had to offer.
It amused us to think that the lorry driver parked there might easily have seen us, though he probably would not have actually seen much of what had taken place. Soon we were home. We discarded our clothes in the conservatory and after a cursory wash fell into bed.
I woke up about eleven on the Sunday to find Val making breakfast. Her blazer was hung over the door and had mud all up the back. She grinned at me impishly when she realised I had seen it. She said we must do it all again sometime. School days were not so bad I thought.
By: Janaval