“Jesus, is this place for real?”
“I just hope no one recognizes me.”
“If someone does, just tell them it’s research for a new song.”
Niall chuckled as we peruse the dimly lit sex shop we had stumbled into on one of our many nighttime walkabouts around London. Surrounded by oddly shaped and obnoxiously colored dildos, vibrators, cock rings, and other contraptions I couldn’t possibly name, I’m torn between gagging and giggling. Either way, I was glad Niall and I weren’t toy people. We were firm believers in the idea that if you need toys, your sexual chemistry with your partner probably wasn’t that great to begin with. If you’re comfortable with yourself and your partner, why do you need that stuff? Besides, a giant neon penis is more likely to make me laugh that it is to make me moan with desire.
“Babe, look!” Niall exclaims sarcastically. “A costume section!”
I snort and roll my eyes as I make my way to where he is. He’s holding a frilly monstrosity composed of a bright green micromini skirt and matching bustier, complete with a little hat.
“You’d be a-” he checks the tag “Lay-perchaun! Get it?”
“Unfortunately.” I say. “Niall, baby, as much as I love your homeland, I’m not wearing that. Ever.”
Niall laughs as he puts the hideous thing back on the rack and folds me into his strong arms, placing a soft kiss in my hair. “I’d never make ya wear that babe. I love ya too much. Besides, I’d probably be laughin’ too hard to get it up!”
I giggle as I burrow into his chest, then wiggle out of his grasp when something catches my eye. “Oh, here we go!” I say as I pick up another costume. This one is made up of a tiny plaid skirt that would barely cover my ass, a cropped white blouse, and a matching tie. The label reads “Hot For Teacher” I hold it up to Niall, who does not laugh. Instead, he silently stares at the obnoxious, synthetic mess in my hand.
“We should get outta here.” He says after a minute. I look at him in confusion as he takes the costume from my hand and places it back on the rack then taking my hand and gently pulling me outside. It starts to drizzle, so we call for a cab. Niall seems distracted, looking straight ahead as we are driven through the dark rainfall.
“What was that about?” I ask.
“What?” Niall mumbles.
“With the uniform. Did I do something wrong?”
“No! God, no. It’s just that, well, I……I went to a uniform school.”
“I thought you went to an all-boys school.”
“I did. But there was this all-girls school down the road……“
“And?” I ask hesitantly. My mind starts to conjure up images of some long lost Irish sweetheart that Niall will leave me for.
“It was called St. Elizabeth’s School for Girls. St. Lizzie’s we called it. St. Lezzie’s if we were feeling cheeky.”
“Niall……” I press. There’s something he’s holding back, I can tell.
“Well, um, we’d always fantasize about what it would be like to be with a girl from St. Elizabeth’s. The uniform and such was a turn on.”
Niall looks guilty. “That costume in the shop had the same colors as a St. Lizzie’s uniform. And I didn’t want you to think I was into that shit, because I’m not. It’s fucking tacky, but it just…..”
I grab his hand and squeeze it. “Hey. It’s okay. I understand.”
We had arrived back at Niall’s by then. Because of the late-night nature of our walk, it’s nearly 3 am. Niall has to be in the studio by ten, so we shower and turn in. I fall asleep with Niall’s arms around my waist, mumbling words of love that lull me into dreams of him in a prep school uniform with a bouquet of roses in a boathouse.
It was a nice dream.
Niall and I wake, dress and enjoy toast and pot of coffee before he heads for the studio. He’s wearing the leather jacket he knows I love, and kisses me goodbye sweetly before heading to work. I have the next couple of weeks off, so I tidy the house and do some laundry before sitting down with my laptop to look up a recipe for dinner. I find one, and sit in front of google for a whie, trying not to give into my curiosity.
I do though.
I type in “St.Elizabeth’s School for Girls, Mullingar, Ireland” and wait.
What comes up next is a wholesome-looking picture of girls in uniforms on the steps of a historic looking building. I almost smile with the cuteness of it all.
The uniforms themselves are modest, loose-fitting affairs, composed of knee length plaid skirts with a white blouse, matching cardigans, and knee socks. The color scheme is hunter green and navy, both of which are flattering on me. Off to the side, I noticed that the website had an eStore. There are St. Elizabeth’s mugs and frisbees, and at the very bottom, a St. Elizabeth’s iron-on patch. It has the school’s crest and name. It’s only about three quid.
I smile upon seeing that the site offers same-day delivery, then click Place Order.
I then get up, grabbing my purse and shoes from the bedroom and locking the house behind me and call for a cab, which I instruct to take me to the nearest American Apparel. Thankfully, they’re having a sale on exactly what I want, and in the colors I need. It fits perfectly. I grab a package of black knee-high socks on the way out. I then take another cab home and am delighted to see a small parcel laying against the door, which turns out to be the patch.
I’m giddy now, and skip gleefully around the house as I get ready. I have a couple of hours until Niall gets home, and I make the most of that. I iron the patch on a navy cardigan I already have, then press a crisp white blouse I just bought a few weeks ago. I have the perfect emerald-colored underwear set to wear under it. I sit impatiently waiting for the patch’s glue to dry before I put everything on. First the blouse, then the skirt from American Apparel, a cute little pleated tennis number that makes my legs look miles long. Then the socks, and a pair of high heeled oxfords. Lastly, the cardigan. I survey myself in the mirror, tugging everything into place. Despite the entire look, which looks sexy but not skanky, I felt like t it was missing something. It finally came to me, and I separated my hair into halves and fashioned them into two low pigtails, grinning at myself in the mirror like a moron. I skip downstairs just to hear Niall’s key in the lock. He comes in and locks the door behind him and throws his keys in the dish on the entry way table.
“Hey babe,” he greets me without looking up as he kicks off his shoes.
“Absolutely starvin’. Is there anything I can do to help with dinn-”
He stops short as he looks up at me in full schoolgirl glory.
“Hey there,” I say in what I hope is a sexy voice. I gesture to my outfit. “What do you think?”
Niall continues to stare, slightly openmouthed. I smile and then pretend to look downtrodden. “You don’t like it, I guess I’ll just go-” Nill doesn’t let me finish, stepping forward to where I am, grabbing my face and kissing me, and not just normal kiss either. It was a devouring, intense, slightly rough kiss, full of nipping teeth and passionate sweeping tongues. His arms circle my waist and his hands squeeze my ass under the skirt. They move lower to tap my thighs and I jump up and wrap my legs around his hard, slim hips. I can feel his length pressing up against me through my skirt, causing me to moan into his mouth. Niall’s kisses shift to my neck as he sets me on the nearest surface, his kitchen counter.
“You look so fuckin’ hot, babe.” He groans between suckling kisses into my neck that are sure to leave a mark. “You look just like the girls from St. Lizzie’s”
“That was my intention,” I purred. Niall comes away from my neck with a glint in his eye “I thought good little schoolgirls didn’t talk back.” he growls. I smirk.
“This one does.” I reply. With that, Niall comes back to my neck again, nibbling hard and causing me to hiss. I feel his hands jerking the cardigan off my shoulders, and he comes away from my neck again, reaching forward and ripping my blouse open, the sound of buttons scattering across his kitchen echoing all around us. I gasp and Niall grins wolfishly. “I’ll buy you a new one.” he says lowly before reattatching his mouth to mine. He nips at my tongue and lips before I feel his hands again, this time snaking under my skirt and pulling my panties down. As he moved down with them, he disconnected from my mouth, and began planting kisses down my neck and chest.I move to unbutton the skirt and help him, but he stops me. “Leave it on, darlin’.” he winks.
Niall successfully gets my panties off and soves them in his pocket. He spreads my legs and the next thing I know, I feel his skilled fingers, honed from years of guitar playing, stroking me under the skirt. I begin moaning louder, glad that we have the house ourselves as he edges me closer and closer to climax. I am spread wide open for him, and he moves his finger from my clit and jams it inside me along with another, resuming working my clit with his thumb instead. I jolt forward into his hand as Niall mercilessly fingers me, well aware that we probably looked very much like we were filming a porno. I the sweet schoolgirl spread wide for Niall the leather-clad rebel knuckle deep inside me. He curls his fingers perfectly, sending waves of exquisite pleasure through me and causing me to moan so loudly I could tell my voice would be hoarse tomorrow. My hips started to buck more and more into his pumping fingers, and I could feel my release building higher and higher.
“Don’t come yet, babe,” Niall warned. “This is your punishment for talking back.”
Despite his authoritarian tone and serious eyes, I let myself come all over Niall’s fingers. Quick as a flash he removed them from me and I nearly wailed at the cold air on my newly wet womanhood. He pulls me off the counter and bends me over it, ripping my skirt up so my backside is exposed to him. I feel his hand smack it, both the sound of the spanking and my scream of arousal reverberating throughout Niall’s house.
“Ya like that?” Niall asks huskily. Another teasing smack is delivered to my rump. The sensation, combined with my post-orgasm sensitivity, has me practically howling with desire.
“Please, just take me,” I pant. “Please.” I can hear Niall unzip his pants with one hand while holding me in place with the other.
“Please what?” He asks. I smile despite practically being in pain with arousal. Of course. Niall’s kink is me calling him sir. Why didn’t I think of it before?
I feel him teasing my folds from behind for just a quick moment before he enters me. I cry out and he gives me barely any time before he starts moving. It’s a relentless, pounding rhythm, with his hands gripping my hips hard through the skirt. He moves in and out of me with no mercy, and it’s not long before I feel myself on the edge again.
“God, I’m so close.” I mewl into the countertop.
“Me too, babe.” Niall grunts. Every nerve is on fire, and the need to come has been building inside me as high as the Empire State Building or the Eiffel Tower. I won’t make the same mistake again, though.
“Please, sir,” I say desperately. “Can I come? Please?” I’m whining now, and my voice is practically a squeak.
“Wait one more second, love.” He’s panting too. He pulls me up by my pigtails so my back is pressed to his chest, and fingers find my clit again. I jolt into his hand and hear his voice in my ear.
“You’ve been a good girl,” he groans. “You can come now, love. Go on.”
With one last thrust of his hips and circle of his fingers, I climax with a yell. My vision goes white and I swear I can hear a heavenly choir somewhere in the distance. I’m so caught up in my own bliss that I almost miss out on Niall’s own orgasm, and hearing him moan in my ear almost makes me come again. We stand and let our breathing even out, then slide down the side of the counter the floor, with me ending up in Niall’s lap.
“I love you.” Niall says contentedly.
“Love you too, stud.” I say.
“I think this just might be the best idea you’ve ever had,” he sighs. “Besides putting all my takeaway menus in that little folder thing.”
“I’d like to think that was a bit more fun.”
“Speaking of takeaway…….” I suggest, “Pizza?”
“I’m well aware.”
So we order pizza and open a couple of beers. I change from my ruined blouse and skirt into my favorite pajamas and join Niall on the couch. We stuff ourselves with pizza and laugh over a binge marathon of The IT Crowd.
As we prepare to head off to bed, Niall thanks me for a wonderful evening, and has a proposal for me.
“Since you dressed up for me……” He trailed off, “Is there anything I can wear-y'know, for you?”
“I’m sure I’ll think of something.”
Well, guys? What should wear for her next? Suggestions (and constructive criticism/compliments) are appreciated. Best suggestion wins the next one shot!