Jack had been looking forward to this day all term. The last bell rang for the end of final period and a stampede of students filed out from the school building and ran towards the campus football ground. Raised wooden benches had been erected around the pitch and the students swarmed on to them like a mass of teaming ants. Each student had been allowed to invite family members and to reach full capacity the school had opened the remaining seats to the public. As a result the scene was absolutely chaotic. Kids and adults alike flocked around the stands, shouting and screaming as the nervous thrill of the final game swept through the crowds and set the air thrumming with the buzz of excitement.

Being an assistant teacher Jack didn’t take his seat until the last of the crowd were rounded up and made to sit down. He then waited for the other teachers to slide their way onto the front row of benches before squeezing himself right on the end, to make his exit easier. There he sat and waited.



In a vain attempt at distraction he made small talk with Miss Stanley beside him, whilst the school’s band took to the pitch and began to play a rendition of Niel Diamonds ‘Sweet Caroline’. Nerves had started to blossom in his stomach and as a result his small talk stuttered to a halt. Soon the song drew to a close and the sound of the crowd settled to a din of hushed whispers. The flood lights dimmed and a silence descended upon the crowd as the audience held their breath. Suddenly, bright lights flashed onto the pitch and a group of students paraded into the middle of the space, pom poms in hand, and launched into a rehearsed dance.

The women in the group, each a final year and on the cusp of turning 21, were incredibly attractive. Their lithe forms moved and stretched beneath the uniform in a series of intoxicating movements and displays, pressing hard nipples against tight material and flashing quick glimpses beneath their skirts, but Jack had eyes for one woman only. Standing alone and off to the side of the dancing group was the coach, Jessica. She watched as her team jumped and bounced their way through the routine, coordinating movements with ease and effortlessly pulling off flips and tumbles to the adoration of the screaming crowd. Jack watched her as she watched her dancers. Her shoulder length blonde hair was tied up in a ponytail, showing off the smooth lines of her neck and the soft skin beneath. She wore a faculty jacket but in defiance of the teacher dress code she kept the short sports skirt, one that accentuated the long, powerful legs flowing from beneath. Jacks gaze settled there for a moment. It had been less than a year since Jessica had been a part of the group herself and her body still showed the signs of an accomplished dancer, coupled nicely by soft curves and thickness reclaimed by her retirement. She knew she looked good and as Jacks gaze moved slowly up from her powerful legs to the hidden treasure beneath that tight skirt, he felt a stirring between his legs.

To any normal person Jessica’s face was a mask of reserved calm. But Jack watched as her eyes darted nervously around the crowd, specifically to the front row of teachers. When their eyes met Jack let a slow sadistic smile stretch upon his lips. He savoured the look of fear that crept into her eyes, mentally saving the picture of her face as realisation dawned and red colour spread across her blushing cheeks. She knew what this meant. For added effect Jack removed his phone from his pocket and shook it gently in the air for her to see.