I looked up over my paper and raised my eyebrows.These girls were from one of the older grades at the school, I could tell. Tall and slender, they bot... wore the mandatory strip of a private school: green/brown tartan skirt, flat black shoes with green hose just over their knees and a white blouse with the 'St. B' emblem embroidered across their left breast. Not the wide-hipped shape of pony-riders, they looked and walked more like dancers, toes out, arms floating lightly.As was typical in such. Our deep breathing was all that could be heard for several minutes as we just lay there – each occasionally thrusting our groins into the body of the other to try and catch a last echo of the sensations we had both shared.Eventually, she spoke, “What’s your name ?” Unbelievably neither of us had asked the other so far.“I’m David” I said.“Hi David” She answered – “I’m Beverley – and that is the best shag I’ve had since I was seventeen !”I stroked her breast with my hand as she lay with her head. More

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