Vocational Guidance

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Vocational guidance. A job for the truly dedicated teacher, someone eager to assist young minds in their search for a career which will utilize their talents in a meaningful and profitable way. The true vocational guidance counsellor has a raft of tools to help him in his chosen profession. Questionnaires that will give an indication of where the student’s interests and natural abilities lie. Psychological profiles. Written reports from the teachers giving you the nitty gritty of how the student actually performs.

Once you have amassed all this information and interviewed the student and, in some cases, the student’s parents, you are able to use your training to give a learned opinion as to what the student should be looking for once they leave the school.

“Johnny should go to university and study to be a veterinary surgeon. His past history of practicing vivisection on kittens shows that he has a proclivity for this.”

“Jane has a wonderful career ahead of her in nursing. She is keenly interested in this subject having been found playing doctor and nurse with a number of different students.”

“Alex will make a fine butcher. I feel that a career as a surgeon is not really commensurate with his talents, even though he removed Joe’s appendix. I believe we explained at the time that Joe didn’t want his appendix removed.”

This year I was the vocational guidance counsellor at Lawndale. There were unusual circumstances that led to me being appointed. Basically, the previous counsellor handed in her resignation and the principal went looking for a volunteer to take over her duties, the school being reluctant to hire a new specialist right at the end of the school year.

Unfortunately, I was ill on that day, the only teacher unfortunate enough to be absent. The rest of the teaching staff were unanimous in their recommendation. While they were too busy to do this prestigious duty themselves they were sure that I would love to do it. Not being present to render my own objection I found on returning to school the next day that I’d been appointed as the new vocational guidance counsellor.

I was fortunate in that Lawndale is a relatively small school. Also, most of the students in the current graduating class had a pretty good idea of where they were going next year and only needed me to rubber stamp my approval. I did suggest to Grant that if he wanted to be a politician he should really study law as well as politics. A good politician should always know what laws he’s breaking so he has his defence ready.

There were half a dozen problem students. A person who faints at the sight of blood would do well to steer clear of the medical profession. Explaining to someone with the muscles and brain of an ox that maybe university was not the place for them takes considerable diplomatic skills. All in all I got the students squared away and happy that they had some idea of where they were going when they left school.

Except for Marianne. Marianne was a conundrum. She was a vivacious young thing. Popular and pretty. She was a cheerleader and did well in all her subjects without really showing any outstanding talent for one subject. She had a good, well-rounded education, and would probably do reasonably well in any number of careers if she bothered to apply herself.

There was the rub. She didn’t seem to want to apply herself. She wasn’t interested in going to university. She wasn’t interested in getting any sort of menial job. She wasn’t interested in office work. She didn’t seem to be interested in anything that meant you actually had to work. I delicately suggested that maybe she intended to marry after leaving school. She was eighteen and of a marriageable age. She gave a delicate shudder. Marriage to any of the boys she knew would result in children and that was certainly not on her agenda.

“Surely there must be some activity you enjoy doing,” I finally said in some exasperation and was surprised to find she was suddenly blushing and not looking at me. I noted her behaviour as something to consider and suggested that she think about it and we’d meet again later in the week.

You would think that a teacher arranging an appointment to see a student would be an easy thing to do. Normally so, but not where the appointment is considered optional, such as vocational guidance. Any time I suggested was turned down as Marianne had another appointment for just that time. I finally suggested that she pick a date and time and I’d meet her then. She very smugly suggested after cheerleader practice on Thursday night, knowing that I’d have to sit around after school for an hour or so waiting for her. She güvenilir canlı bahis siteleri looked quite annoyed when I agreed.

I spent a profitable hour grading assignments on Thursday afternoon, wondering if Marianne would actually show up for her appointment. Surprisingly enough, she did, not even bothering to change after the practice. I suspect this was to indicate to me that it would be a short interview as she had to go and change.

“Have you given any thought to what you like doing?” I asked.

She didn’t blush this time. She just gave me a totally innocent smile.

“Yes, well all I could come up with was that I like to go out on dates and I like to fuck,” she said.

I guess thinking of the latter was the reason she’d blushed in our prior meeting. Now she was going to see if she could embarrass me and kill off the interview. I smiled back just as innocently.

“Well, if that’s what you prefer doing perhaps you’d like to be a professional escort. We have a reputable escort agency in town. I can give you a reference so you can go and talk to the woman who runs it.”

“What? Become a call girl? Are you insane? You can’t recommend that sort of career.”

“I didn’t say anything about being a call girl,” I said firmly. “If you accuse the escort agency of running call girls they would sue you. They run a respectable business. Do you know what a professional escort agency does?”

She shook her head, still looking dubious about the whole idea.

“They provide escorts to business people who need a date for an evening. They provide both male and female escorts. Someone may be in town and needing a partner for a business dinner so they call the agency. Alternatively, someone local may have an appointment but their husband or wife can’t attend and they feel they need an escort. The client pays the agency who subsequently pays the escort. What the client pays for is the company of the escort at dinner and a show or meeting. Where female escorts are concerned they generally want someone pretty, intelligent enough to be able to hold a decent conversation, and willing to move into the background while business is discussed.

What the escort agency do not do is provide an escort who is committed to having sex with the client. If they tried the business would be closed down very smartly.”

I let Marianne consider this. She now looked interested but still a trifle dubious.

“Where your liking to fuck is concerned,” I continued, “you are at liberty to come to your own personal arrangements with the client. My understanding is that some of the girls will agree to sex as it can result in quite a hefty tip. Others won’t have a bar of it. It’s purely a matter of personal choice.”

“If you join the agency then they will put you through a series of courses on deportment and social customs. They will also recommend books to read and films to see so you can discuss them with a client.”

I could almost see the light turn on in her head. Being a professional escort in a respectable business was a proper job and she certainly would not be considered a call-girl. If she fucked a client then that was her business. She wasn’t doing it for money. She might get a generous tip, but that was because of her professional duties, not for any private ones.

“If you like I can pass on a recommendation to the woman who runs the agency. They don’t interview walk-ins, requiring that someone respectable vouches for the potential escort. If they like the recommendation I give then they’ll contact you for an interview. There’s no pressure on you. If you decide the job isn’t for you then you don’t even need to attend the interview. A number of people back out without ever attending the interview.

You will understand that this is not the sort of job I’d suggest for a virgin. They’d probably find themselves overwhelmed by the first high-powered businessman who came their way and find themselves seduced, like it or not. You, on the other hand, have indicated that you are no longer a virgin. True?”

She blushed and nodded, so I continued.

“So would you like me to arrange a recommendation for you?”

She took a couple of moments to consider it but I sensed that she’d go for it. After all, it wouldn’t commit her to anything. She finally nodded.

“Um, yes, please. If I change my mind I can just apologise if they ring and that will be the end of it, yes?”

“Correct,” I agreed. “Um, there is one little thing before I do the recommendation. I know you’re popular and I have observed for myself that you can carry your end of a conversation. Ah, unfortunately I have no way of güvenilir illegal bahis siteleri knowing about your sexual expertise. Would your boyfriend be willing to vouch for you?”

The look on her face was a joy to behold. She was absolutely stunned.

“What? No! Why would you need to know about that?”

“Well, I have to let them know that they’re not getting stuck with a virgin. However, just as bad from the agency’s point of view is getting stuck with a non-virgin who is frigid. Really, a client who comes to a private agreement with an escort and then finds she just lies on the bed like a lump is likely to get somewhat annoyed. When that happens they feel they’ve been short-changed and they don’t use the agency again.”

“I am not frigid and I don’t lie there like a lump,” she said, and there was so much ice in her voice I almost reached for a coat.

“I didn’t say that it applied to you. It would just help if I had some sort of evidence. Still, I guess I can see where you wouldn’t want to use a boyfriend as a referral. They might lie about it if they thought you were dropping them.”

“Oh, really. Maybe you think personal experience might give you a better chance to judge.” She was being sweetly sarcastic but I didn’t mind.

I started to laugh and then hastily put on a serious face.

“I, ah, don’t think that will be necessary,” I told her and she glared at me.

“What was so funny?” she demanded. “Are you saying you wouldn’t want personal experience?”

“Sorry,” I said, without sounding it in the slightest. “I was just imagining the look on your face if I did suggest testing you myself, or alternatively, the look on my face if you tried to seduce me to show what you could do.”

I spoilt my apology by laughing again.

“You don’t think I’d be capable of having sex with you?” she demanded, sounding outraged.

“You’ll probably find there’s a slight difference between the boys you normally see and an older man,” I explained. “Don’t worry about it.”

“You don’t think I could handle an older man?” she asked. “You’re not that much older than me. What, ten years at the most? That’s nothing.”

“I’m sure you could,” I said soothingly. “Fortunately you don’t have to prove it.”

She jumped to her feet, glaring at me. I could almost hear her thoughts. How dare I belittle her abilities? Her glare faded and a smirk took its place.

She reached down and did something to her skirt and it slid down, showing that she was still wearing her cheerleader modesty shorts. Not for long, though, as they were the next item to hit the floor. She retained her panties for the time being, what there was of them. Her top followed her skirt and modesty shorts, revealing a lacy bra that must have struggled to contain those breasts. They seemed to be on the verge of spilling free with every breath she took.

“Very nice,” I said with sincere appreciation.

She just glowered at me. She wasn’t finished showing me what she had. She reached around and unhooked her bra and then bent and pushed her panties down, letting her bra drop at the same time. Then she stood and faced me, gloriously nude.

I have no idea if she meant to do more than strip when she started this little charade but if she hadn’t she’d now changed her mind. She was starting to breathe harder and her nipples were pouting. Just the fact of stripping in front of me had got her aroused. I rose from my chair and circled the desk to stand in front of her, close enough to touch her but not doing so.

“What now?” I asked her.

For answer she simply reached out and unzipped me, her hand slipping through my fly to take hold of me. A young lady strips in front of me? Of course I’ll have an erection. Her hand closed around it with a soft gasp.

“Ha. You’re not indifferent,” she crowed. “You’re as big as a horse.”

With that she pulled her prize into the light where she could see it.

“My god,” she said in a completely different voice. “You really are as big as a horse.”

Flattering words but not really true. Still, I did have a reasonable amount of junk. I waited to see what she’d do. I didn’t have to wait long. She sank down onto one knee and, leaning forward, her mouth closed over me.

If I was going to judge her performance based on how she used her mouth she’d have been granted honours with a distinction. She produced a gentle suction while her tongue and teeth played havoc with my cock. Her tongue coaxed my cock while her teeth rasped gently across the head of my erection, nearly sending me through the roof. I stood it for as long as I could and then I hauled her to her feet, güvenilir bahis şirketleri immediately rueing the lost connection.

“My turn,” I growled at her, sinking to one knee myself. Turnabout was fair play and my tongue was all over her pudenda, laving and stroking. She used teeth so I used teeth, although from the sounds she made when my teeth scraped lightly along her lips I couldn’t tell what she thought of it. Then my tongue intruded inside, spreading the joy as it were. There are some very sensitive points inside that cunning little cleft and my tongue found them, teasing them, hearing Marianne give a choked scream. I brought her to the very edge of a climax before I called it a day.

I rose to my feet, looking at her. She was looking back and her arousal was plastered all over her face. I pointed at my desk.

“Lie down,” I told her and she hastened to scramble onto the desk and lie there, legs well apart.

I sat on the desk next to her and swung my feet up. Just like that I was over her, my cock perilously close to her. I moved a little closer until my cock was actually brushing against her lips, feeling her pushing upwards, encouraging me to enter. I just held like that for a moment, watching her face.

“Do it,” she said in a half wail, her voice throbbing with her urgency. Then she gave a small shriek as I drove fully into her, sheathing my cock in her hot flesh with one lusty lunge.

Marianne promptly made sure I wasn’t going anywhere until she was satisfied. Her legs came up and closed around me, and then she was flexing them, using them to help lift herself up and onto my cock as I drove into her. Things got quite hectic from that point on. We were both hot to trot and we were putting our all into it from that first thrust of mine.

Oddly enough as things progressed I was able to regain a modicum of sanity and with it some control over what I was doing. I eased up the tempo just a little, letting me stretch things out for a bit longer. I don’t think the slight change in pace really registered with Marianne. She was just running on auto-pilot, taking everything she could and asking for more.

Now my hands were on her breasts, rubbing them, agitating her nipples, while my mouth was on her face, covering it with little kisses. She was kissing me back just as frantically, while her fingers were clutching tight to my shoulders. It seemed to me that she was just about ready to climax.

Not yet, sweetheart, I decided, callous bastard that I am, and slowed just that little bit more, holding her on the edge and thoroughly enjoying the feel of her heated flesh rubbing against mine. She must have been expecting her climax as well and when it didn’t come she started to get a little upset.

She was clinging tight to me, doing her best to force the pace, telling me that now was the time. I continued teasing her, just holding off that fraction. I think she was near to tears when I finally relented and drove home with that extra oomph she wanted.

She climaxed in a big way, and I was quite happy to climax right along with her, pumping hard and giving her everything I had.

All I had to do afterwards was zip up and I was dressed again. This did, however, leave Marianne lying on my desk, naked, and just a touch embarrassed.

“Well,” I said cheerfully, “you certainly showed me. I’ll get your reference completed and sent out. You should hear back from them within the week and then you can decide to investigate further or just back out.”

“You seduced me,” she gasped. “You’re a teacher. You’re not supposed to do that sort of thing.”

I just looked at her and she blushed.

“OK, maybe you didn’t exactly seduce me but you should have stopped me. I didn’t intend things to go that far.”

“Stop you?” I asked incredulously. “Why on earth would I have stopped you? As soon as I saw you naked there was no way on earth that I’d have been willing to stop you. You have a sensational figure and you were completely irresistible.”

“Still,” she mumbled, blushing.

“Marianne, you’re eighteen and you were willing so there was nothing wrong with what we did. Quite frankly if we hadn’t done it I’d be seeing a psychiatrist and asking him what’s wrong with me. Just relax. You haven’t committed yourself to anything. Come. On your feet.”

I helped ease her off the desk.

“Now you have a decision to make,” I told her.

“What?” she asked cautiously.

“Do you get dressed, or do you turn around and lean over the desk so that I can provide a repeat performance.”

“What? You can’t.”

“The only way to find out is to turn around and lean over the desk,” I pointed out. “I think I can. That’s why I’m asking.”

She nibbled on her thumb, eyes flicking from her clothes, to me, to the desk. I smiled and waited. The fact that she hadn’t pounced on her clothes seemed to indicate that I had a good chance of seconds, and I had not the slightest objection to that.

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