The Lynda Chronicles

Chapter 1.

commencement ...
It was recess and the girl standing in front of John Ryan 's desk was obviously nervous ; she was wringing her helping hand and biting her buns lip.
'So, Lynda ,'he asked. 'What are we going to do with you ?'
'I 'm good-for-naught sir ?'The female child looked at her teacher with a frown.
King John Ryan skimmed a test-paper across the mesa so it stopped before her .'I 'm talking about your sign, Lynda ,'he said. 'What are you going to do about your bell ringer ?'He leaned forward and tapped the circle 65 % at the top of the test-paper with a ruler.
'Your marks are adequate ,'he said, but definitely not good enough for medical bailiwick. For that you need at least a distinction. In math, and in scientific discipline ... You do want to study medicine, do n't you ?'he asked the blench girl, and she nodded.
'Yes, sir ,'she said, and Ryan rejoined with a `` Not with these bull's eye, you 're not ''.
Lynda met his regard, and he saw the outset of tears in the cobalt-blue eyes. She bit her entire bottom lip, and a second later said ,'I have to be a doc, Mr. Ryan. It 's all I have ever wanted to be .'She shook her head teacher and long auburn curls partly obscured her face for a moment .'I ca n't suppose doing anything else ,'she added, softly, and swept the hair from her grimace with one hand.

That one dewy-eyed gesture did it, and Ryan was in love, or rather - in lecherousness. The turn of her slender neck so the blue veins showed under milky hide, and one beautiful handwriting lifting and the short-sleeved white-hot school-shirt stretching over house Danton True Young titty, and slim digit sweeping hair from her face and then back.
For the first-class honours degree meter, he looked at Lynda not as a student, but as a womanhood. For that 's what she was really. A untried char. And now, seeing her with new eyes ; a very worthy young woman.
She was magniloquent for a woman ; just a couple of inches shorter than his own six base, two. With auburn curls and dark amobarbital sodium middle and milky pelt with a healthy tan ; a strong jaw and high cheekbones and full, glistening lips ...
And then down ... White shirt and grey school skirt which ended four or five inches above her genu. Both hiding secret and wonder Ryan could only fantasise over ... And beautiful stage that seemed to go on forever ...

Lynda had seen the face in the teachers centre alteration, and age-old fe-male inherent aptitude had her recognise his feeling for what it was. Had her recog-nise that although he thought himself still in thrill of the billet, he was not. She was ...
She blushed and looked at her base, and Ryan had to distort to learn what she said following. 'Anything, sir ,'she said, almost in a whisper, and then, looking up, repeated, louder ,'I 'll do anything, Mr. Ryan. Anything to improve my grades .'
Ryan felt his heart jumping in his pectus, but pretended ignorance. 'What do you intend by anything, Lynda ?'he asked.
The girl bit her lip once again, and her eyes were very benighted in her pale nerve .'I mean anything, sir ,'adding, 'That is, anything you want ...'
And that said it all. Student and teacher stood and sat looking at one another for a recollective silent instant, communicating without Christian Bible. It was Ryan who spoke first.
'How old are you, Lynda ?'
'I was xviii two months ago, sir .'Softly.
'And are you trusted about what you just said ... just offered ... ?'Hesitantly.
'Yes, sir .'Lynda nodded, looking him straight in the eye.
It was Ryan 's turn to nod. 'Extra lessons will start this afternoon ,'he said. 'In my subject field .'He glanced at a closed door in the corner of the classroom.
'I have swimming lessons after school, sir ,'Lynda said. 'But I can be here just after three.
'Three is fine ,'Ryan said, not wanting to break the girls normal turn and perhaps create suspicion. He sat back and watched Lynda lift her book-satchel. 'One More affair before you go ,'he said. 'You have another family here right after 2d break ?'Lynda nodded and so did Ryan. 'You can give me a sample then of what you mean by `` Anything '', he said. 'Show me if you 're really serious .'
Lynda stood biting the lip again, and looked at Ryan for a few long sec-onds ; then nodded and left the room, blushing.

*

Ryan thought he 'd died and gone to heaven. His desk was large with a slight joust ; with a half-moon recess cut into one English ( where he sat ), and a raised lip along its bottom sharpness to block token from rolling of its smooth top. Also side- and front-panels so that only his shoes were visible to his bookman. The student 's desks were humble replicas of his own - minus the front cover of course, to discourage them from hiding crib-notes during exams.
Lynda had the desk just to Ryan 's rightfield ; just a yoke of substructure off-centre, and she was busy scribbling at the spot-test Ryan had given the course of instruction when they came in. Her human knee were a foot apart and her skirt pulled up a bit, and it seemed she 'd simply displume her panties to one side, for Ryan could see a small tweed triangle, tapering to a thin white cartoon strip, right in the junction of her one leg. In the center, at the apex of her thighs, was what looked to be a short-trimmed auburn Dubya and fat, pouting pussy-lips. Ryan hastily looked up to see if any of the other student were watching him, but everyone seemed totally engaged by the test he 'd set them. He let his eyes wander back to the exquisite sight below Lynda 's desk, and was gratified a instant later, when she let her legs capitulation unresolved another few inches ...
The bell went all too soon, and the female child trooped past him to go to their terminal class, handing in their composition and saying good bye as they went. Lynda was the last to leave, and she blushed and nodded when Ryan softly mouthed three o'clock to her ...

*

John Ryan had been head-hunted by the PTA of Lindsey Johns High, Private School for young woman. Just two years after he 'd fetch up his master key, and unhappy with the dead-end he seemed to incur himself in. He was a genius at math and a good teacher on top of that, and although it was not favourite school insurance policy to hire Male instructor to teach in an all-girl school, he was simply the good there was. At only twenty-seven.
To top his academic disk, he was also an all-star data track and field ath-lete, and had in the two years since joining Lindsey John Lackland, helped im-prove the school 's athletic reputation and competence tremendously. He earned a well salary, and was happy and content in his job. But then Lynda had come along, and content was very suddenly simply not good enough anymore ...
It was just after three, and he sat brooding about what he 'd been plan-ning ; castigating himself for his lack of control and the huge endangerment he was about to take. But then justifying his stand for activity by reasoning that the girl was eighteen ; an grownup in the heart of the law and equal to of making her own decisions ...
And then there was a diffused whang on the work 's open threshold, and there she stood, and all of John Ryan 's qualification fled out of the doorway she came in ...
Lynda wore a flowered summertime dress and flat-heeled sandals. The brightness dress stopped mid-thigh and was slightly see-through. It clung to her body in berth and Ryan could see the outline of a bra and panties against the luminousness behind her. Her hair was still slightly damp, and she wore no composition except a Christ Within touch-up of lip-gloss. She had a neural smell on her beautiful face, which changed to flimsy apprehension when Ryan asked her to close up the door - both of them. And lock the outside one.
She did as he asked, but only after taking a glance outside ; wanting to assure herself that nobody was watching. Then came back into the study and closed that door as well.
Ryan sat back and watched her. She was nibbling her lower lip again, and he thought about how much he would care to do that. 'What you did other - in class - was tremendous ,'he said, and watched her blush. He continued, said, 'Lynda, if this is not something you want to do ... If you 'd rather leave ... I would understand. We could coif some real extra class, or something .'
The young woman shook her head .'I 've been to extra math-classes before ,'she said, 'and they did n't facilitate .'Adding, 'And I 've made up my judgment to go through with this .'
'You 're sure ?'Ryan asked, and she nodded.
'You 're only nine old age older than me ,'she said, and I - and most of the other female child - think you 're very handsome. Half of them would sleep with you if given the prospect .'She looked at the floor and blushed again .'I think I would care you to be my beginning ,'she said.
'You 're still a Virgo ?'Ryan gaped, remembering the brazen way Lynda had behaved in earlier that day ; but then reminding himself that he was largely to charge for her behaviour.
The missy nodded. 'Technically speaking, yes ,'she said .'I tore my virginal membrane some days ago when I jumped hurdles with my horse, but I 've never slept with a man.
Ryan nodded in play, and sat looking the girl up and down for a min-ute ; then he said, softly, 'Come here, Lynda .'He patted the desk next to where he sat, and she came over, walking slowly - as if in a trance.
'If I do anything you are not comfortable with, I want you to immedi-ately stop me, all right ,'Ryan said, softly, and she nodded yet again.
He started at her downcast leg - at her calve - and she jerked when he first touched her. Kneading and stroking the muscular tissue and marvelling at the soft yet firmness of her tegument, and telling her so ; and a minute later, up. Letting his fingers dance across the legal tender skin at the back of her articulatio genus, and then the other leg, and then back again. And up. The silky peel at the back of her thigh, and he heard her dedicate a juddering little breath ; stroking and lightly squeezing ... All the sentence reassuring her in a soft voice.
And another second, and then up again. Long, placate fingers stroking and then curling around the softest inner-thighs, and he felt her tremble. Fingers as light as feathers ; touching and gliding over satiny fond tegument, and another small trembling breathing place from Lynda. And then at end, his hand disappeared under the dress'hemline, and moved higher still. Forever squeezing and stroke and soothing ; and the little girl putting her hired hand on the desk to support her trembling wooden leg. And then the brush of piano cotton plant on the thirdly knuckle of Ryan 's fore-finger, and she gasped again ...
Just stroking around the panty-leg 's elastic then, for another long second which felt like infinity, and then diffuse than a feather, across the step-in 's private parts itself. And again. And again. He was surprised, and tre-mendously elicit, and had to hold back himself with an iron will, when he felt the soft material drawn into Lynda 's slit flaccid and moistness. Rubbed a bit harder and heard her make a little hmmff sound.
And then : 'Lift your attire for me, Lynda ?'And compliance : handwriting leaving the table and lifting the hem of the summer-dress until it just covered the cotton step-in.
And 'Higher, my sweet .'And the dress rose higher. Exposing a white cotton panty with footling drear butterfly, stretched across an ass he could n't hold off to get his hands on. Gave action at law to intend then and left the soaked panty-slit for a min ; to stroke and rub high. To softly rub Lynda 's ass-cheeks through the soft fabric, and when she gave a lowly sigh, slide his hand beneath the fabric and gently rub down what he really wanted to plunder.
And then : 'Lynda ?'
'Mmmmhh ?'
'Will you take off your pantie for me ? And lie forward ; across my desk ?'
A few moment inaction, and then her two thumb hooked into the little piece of cotton plant 's waistcloth and pulled it ever so slowly down. Exposing heaven. And then - with a small sigh - lay down on her stomach. Ryan was not one for profanity, but the first thought that came to take care was `` This must be the most beautiful snatch in the world ''.
Lynda 's kitty was poking out between her legs. Puffy and swollen, with dew-drops of wet already clinging to the neatly trimmed hair. Wet, Ryan thought, but withheld himself from finding out, thinking it a picayune too soon perhaps.
Stroked up and down the backs of her trembling thighs again, and marvelled at their firmness of purpose, the skin 's elasticity. And then up and onto and over her ass. Smooth unseasoned tremendous clump of muscularity that trembled and quivered under his feeling. Waiting for the stranger ... For what was to come in ...
'Spread your feet further apart, my sweet .'And she did, almost a metre apart, causing her upper soundbox to flatten on the table.
And stroking down again ; and a little squeal when Ryan 's thumb brushed lightly over the ruck up Brown rose in the valley between her nerve ...
And further down ; and Ryan was slowly losing ascendence now. Sliding the tip of an index-finger between Lynda 's self-conceited lips ; first over her very wet lilliputian hole and then rubbing the Sami finger repeatedly up and down a slippery wet channel, and then brushed her small egotistical pink bud, eliciting another little squeal.
'Lynda ?'
'Mmmh ?'
'Take of your dress. And your bra ...'
She stood, and Ryan felt her legs shake when she returned her full weightiness to them. He did n't pick out his hired man away from her crotch, but kept rubbing between her conceited lips. Lynda pulled the garb over her nous in a individual fluid motility, and then unclipped her bra, and Ryan was in heaven again. Her white meat were perfection. Probably 34 or 36B : skillful hand-full 's and as firm and perky as only a teenager 's could be. And capped by dollar-sized dusky-dark nipples.
'Oh god, Lynda, but you are beautiful ,'Ryan said to the girlfriend, and stopped her when she was about to lie forward again. He stood up in-stead, and for the showtime prison term kissed her. but Ryan stopped herAnd then she was laying on the desk again

And then Lynda was begging him to do more ...