This is my story and is also published elsewhere.
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Prologue — A lesson in caution
“Please tell me somebody heard what I just said?” Esmé asked, her exasperation palpable as she wiped sweat from her brow.
When she had studied to become a college level History teacher she had naively assumed that anyone who chose to take History as an A-Level would be interested in the subject, hanging eagerly on her every word, constantly vying to be the first to offer their personal take on the events covered in each lesson. That fantasy had long since withered away, she was thirty now, she’d been in this job for six years and that had been more than long enough to shatter the rose tinted lenses.
To be sure she had taught many wonderful students with a real passion for the subject, and though this year was her worst class to date there were still a few gems like Annie or Joy, but they were both off sick today, having fallen afoul of the dreaded stomach bug that was doing the rounds.
The heat had also reduced the headcount of her class, as the country was in the grip of a heatwave and the college’s air conditioning unit had chosen this week to pack up and die. Consequently many students were coming down with a case of “heatstroke”, and while some cases were doubtless genuine the cynic in her refused to believe that all eleven students off using that excuse were telling the truth.
So here she was, down to a skeleton class of six, none of whom had any real interest in history or in being at college at all. Randy and Desmond were oogling her chest as always, watching the beads of sweat trickle down into the abyss of her cleavage, Tammy was on her phone browsing her socials, Nikki and Hugh were passing notes to each other whenever they thought she couldn’t see and Zack was doodling in his art sketchbook, subtly listening to music with one earbud in.
“You know what, let’s just finish early for today,” Esmé told them irritably, as she fanned herself with a book, “If you haven’t listened that’s your problem come Monday when I mark your assignments.”
“Um, which assignment would that be miss?” Hugh asked blankly.
Esmé took a deep breath, “The assignment I set you yesterday about the causes behind the fall of the last Tsars, the one that we have just spent an afternoon covering, that assignment Hugh.”
“Oh of course, that one, I knew that I was just testing you miss.” Hugh laughed, very unconvincingly.
Esmé thought she heard him whisper, “Nikki, you’ve got to help me, I’ve not paid attention all week, please babe”, to which Nikki replied “Of course baby, but I’m getting oral all weekend, and a back-rub while I write it for you”. Esmé groaned, although a small part of her was, to her surprise, jealous of Nikki. She hadn’t had oral, or sex in general for that matter in a very long time, teaching didn’t exactly leave a lot of time for dating, and her past experiences with online dating had been dire.
Masturbation obviously remained an option for her but most days she was so drained it just seemed like too much effort, so she would choose the easier option of a good book, watching a movie or playing an RTS. She loved a good strategy game, though she’d never told her class or she knew she’d spend her lessons being asked about the latest Medieval court sim rather than what the Tudors had actually gotten up to.
Her class left without a word to her, save Tammy who thanked her for the lesson that she had not paid the slightest attention to. Still manners were always worth something and Esmé liked Tammy, though she had never understood why the girl had put herself down for History, nor how she had managed a B* in her GCSE, but she supposed there were simply some mysteries beyond human comprehension.
She was on the verge of leaving herself, having locked up her classroom for the weekend when Angie popped her head round the door.
“Can you please do me a huge favour?” The headmistress asked, “I’ve got a house viewing tonight and I’m already running late but it’s my turn on the rota to water the greenhouse, and I really hate to put this on you Esmé but is there anyway that you could cover it for me before you head home please? I know it’s a huge ask and I wouldn’t if I had any other options, I know how much you’ve been struggling in the heat.”
Struggling was one way of putting it. Most days by the time Esmé got home she was drenched with sweat and it was all she could do to crawl into the shower and set it to cool, melting into a corner as the cold water ran down her body. She could honestly think of nothing she would rather do less than trekking her way up onto the school roof to water the plants in the sweltering greenhouse but she could hear the pleading note in Angie’s voice, so she replied “Of course Angie, it’s no problem, I hope the viewing goes well.”.
“Thank you, you are legitimately a life saver,” Angie beamed as she passed Esmé the keys, “Have a lovely weekend Esmé, thank you so, so much, I owe you big time.”
With that Angie took off like a flash and Esmé was left to trudge her way up to the third floor, but she was already puffing at second and sweat drenched her by the time she reached the stairs to the roof. It wasn’t that she was out of shape, rather it was that her figure was what would be described as curvy, with thick thighs and full breasts that never failed to draw people’s attentions. She had once joked that she should have a pair of targets tattooed on her double d’s, to help guide people’s stares, as that was always where their eyes seemed to end up no matter how conservatively she dressed.
Not that she had been dressing even remotely conservatively in this weather, or at least not until the the AC was repaired. Her outfit today was a white button-up shirt that she had unbuttoned enough to show more than a little cleavage, a short pencil skirt that left little to the imagination when she had to bend over and red strapped leather sandals that allowed her to show off her newly painted nails. They were a dark purple and it made her absurdly happy every time she saw them, as nail painting was not something she usually allowed herself time for, but it had felt justified now that it was sandal season.
She could feel the sweat sticking her shirt to her as she neared the top of the steps, not to mention the drops that kept sliding down her neck into her cleavage. Most of the time Esmé felt proud of her breasts, loving how those huge fluffy pillows looked in the mirror when she was getting dressed, or how tightly they stretched her bras but in the heat they became a downright nuisance.
She would have loved to go braless but given how much her shirt was sticking to her she knew that she couldn’t, if her students thought they were getting an eyeful now then she dreaded to think how they’d react if they saw some actual nipple. Randy and Desmond would probably die of shock, she reflected, and though there were days that might be a tempting prospect she couldn’t face the mountain of paperwork that would accompany it. Safer to let them live so that I can have the satisfaction of failing them both for gawping at my tits all year she decided.
The wave of heat that awaited Esmé on the roof was like the breath of a dragon, and she could feel a fresh crop of sweat break out over her body as her cheeks flushed. If she had felt hot inside the school it was as nothing compared to this, and she was genuinely worried that she might melt as she stepped out into the sunlight currently intent on baking the school roof.
“Now I know how the Wicked Witch felt.” She complained as she shielded her eyes against the glare, fanning herself with her free hand.
Normally the rota for the rooftop greenhouse was only lightly enforced, and whoever had the time would see to it before they went home on a Friday. That had all changed with with the heatwave, and it had become a battle royale as everyone fought desperately to avoid the tortuous task of watering the plants inside the sweltering heat of the glass oven, formally known as the greenhouse. Esmé had barely made it through last week when it had been her turn, even going so far as to undo her shirt to a single button, so it was an understatement to say that she was less than thrilled to be back up here. Still Angie was a good friend, and more importantly a good boss, and Esmé had learned just how rare those were in life; cooking alive for half an hour seemed a small price to pay in return for that.
Reluctantly she headed over to the greenhouse and unlocked the door, flinching as she stepped into the glasshouse inferno. The concept of a rooftop garden was lovely, Esmé did not deny that, she had even voted in favour of it but at this moment in time she would have quite happily set fire to the whole damn thing it if it meant she would reach her air conditioned flat sooner.
Esmé could feel that her body was now slick with sweat all over but it was so hot she couldn’t even be bothered to wipe it from her forehead as she headed for the hosepipe, determined to get this over with as fast as possible. I am going to cook alive in here, she reflected moodily, I don’t think unbuttoning is going to cut it this time. She chewed her lip for a moment, debating whether she actually had the nerve to do this, but she could feel herself growing hotter by the second, and knew she would never last if she didn’t cool off a little.
Besides, my shirts practically transparent with sweat at the moment, everyone can see my bra already, she reasoned, so what difference does it make if I remove that layer, its basically the same. All the same when she went to undo the final button she hesitated, but the repressive heat was unrelenting and she unfastened it as her resolve crumbled. Her shirt was practically stuck to her skin so it took a good deal of pulling to remove it, but she was rewarded with the sensation of a faint breeze against her clammy skin.
It’s nothing people haven’t seen before, she reassured herself as she reached for the hose, besides it’s only a shirt, its not like I have my tits out bouncing around. Her mind was still trying to convince itself of this as she turned the tap, so she failed to notice that whoever had used it last had forgotten to turn it back to neutral. At once water began to spray forth from the nozzle of the hose, but it had been left it on blast, and due to how Esmé had been holding it the jet of cold water smacked her full in the face, prompting her to drop it with a muffled curse.
As it fell, almost in slow motion it seemed to Esmé’s bleary, water filled eyes, the hose sprayed a path down her chest, then her skirt, before finally landing on the ground, facing upwards so that it blasted her knickers full force with the frigid water. Gasping at the sudden cold and pressure blasting her nether regions Esmé dropped to her knees to protect her privates but in doing so exposed her chest to a far more extensive soaking, and she felt her bra actually slip off one breast under the substained assault. Trying to ignore the rush of sensation in her exposed breast as the water blasted against it she fumbled for the hose, eventually catching hold of it, hurriedly aiming it away from herself.
She was sodden, from head to toe, somehow even her short, curly dark hair had been drenched through and plastered to her head. She sat there for a moment, feeling the water pouring out of her knickers and remaining bra cup to puddle on the tiled floor beneath her as she absent-mindedly pointed the hose at the nearest plants, wondering what to do. Her clothes were absolutely drenched, and while cold wasn’t an issue in this weather the weight of them most certainly was, and she could hardly leave a trail of water through the school, let alone ruin her her car’s upholstery. Still she had no spare clothes here at school, so her options were rather limited, and she realised that she would have to dry her clothes before she could go home.
The question then became how to do that, and she wasn’t terribly keen on the answer she had in mind. This feels like a really bad idea, she reflect, But it is Friday, the school should be basically empty by now, everyone’s gone home, so there’s not really any harm in it, especially if I did it in phases.
That didn’t sound as crazy in her mind, in fact it even started to sound pretty sensible, if she let her shirt and skirt dry while she watered the greenhouse in her underwear, then she’d be no worse off than anyone wearing a bikini at the beach, besides everyones gone home, she reminded herself, so there’s no one to see me anyway. Except most people at the beach didn’t have one of their tits hanging out and Esmé had just remembered that she did, so she hastily crammed her left breast back into its cup, blushing slightly at how sensative her boob felt in her hand. It’s just the cold water, it’s made it sensitive, she insisted to herself as she tried to straighten her bra out.
All the same she could feel how hard her nipples were and was reminded that it would not be a great look for the local history teacher to be found stripping off on the school roof in hot weather, even if she wasn’t expelled she’d never live down the shame. I suppose I could lock the roof door though, just to make absolutely sure no one disturbs me, just for total peace of mind really. There was only one key to the roof door, for security purposes, and Angie had passed it to Esmé earlier, so there was literally no way for anyone to get up onto that roof once she’d locked the door.
If she were to lock it then she really would be safe up here, so there wouldn’t be any real harm in giving her wet clothes the chance to dry, and besides, the sooner I strip this skirt off the sooner it’ll be ready to wear again, and that was enough to convince Esmé.
Propping the hose up in one of the raised beds she hurried back to the roof doors, as fast as her sandals would allow, constantly having to yank her bra up as the sodden fabric was determined to slide down. She locked them, thoroughly checking that the lock was definitely fastened. Once she was satisfied that no one would be able to open them on her she headed back to the greenhouse and set the keys down on the potting bench next to her bag and the greenhouse keys.
Then she allowed herself one last furtive glance around before she pulled down her skirt, stepping out of it deftly. She was now stood in her soaking matching pastel pink underwear, her bright red sandals, and absolutely nothing else. It was the most naked she had ever been in public, excluding the beach, and Esmé was surprised at how exhilarating it felt, even though it was also rather nerve wracking. It’s just the relief of feeling cooler, that’s all, I feel lighter now.
She was convinced her heart was about to burst it was beating so far, but she did her best to ignore that as she hung her clothes up to dry on a trellis that was positioned directly in a patch of sunlight. Then she tried to carry on watering the plants, as though there was nothing out of the ordinary about watering the school plants in her underwear. She was uncomfortably aware that her knickers were soaking, still dripping water onto the tiles, and that her bra had effectively turned into a pair of sponges on a string.
Once my clothes are dry I’ll put them on and hang my underwear to dry, she promised herself, I’m sure it won’t take too long, I just have to stick it out in these a little longer. Trying to distract herself she counted the number of tomatoes ready to be picked as she water them, then moved on to the courgettes but out of nowhere she had a sudden and very vivid day dream. In it she snatched up a courgette and began to thrust into into her pussy, pounding herself until she came explosively, at which point she flopped down into the flowerbed, panting and breathless.
Then just as soon as it had appeared the daydream was gone and Esmé was left feeling very flustered, and hot and bothered in a way that had nothing to do with the heat. Esmé flushed, embarrassed by her own thoughts, what is the matter with me, it must be the heat, it’s not even been that long, the last time was…was…I don’t remember. She was so distracted that she forgot to focus on the hose and without meaning to she doused her knickers and thighs all over again.
Cursing herself for an idiot she hastily aimed the hose away, trying not to acknowledge the sensations she’d just experienced as her crotch got sprayed. Her knickers were now leaking water like a broken tap again, and she realised it was going to take a long time for them to dry. I’m going to be stuck here for ages, just cooking on this roof, she realised glumly. Then again, she thought, the roof door is locked, and everyone must have left by now, so I’m almost certainly the only person left here. It might be safe to just whip them off to let them drip dry a little, just while I water the plants, besides as long as I keep my sandals on I’m not technically naked, just “undressed”.
Undressed certainly didn’t sound nearly as bad or risky as being actually, properly naked in public. Moreover, mad though it may sound, she would actually end up fully clothed again faster if she went naked, just for a little while. No one will see.
“No one will see,” She repeated to herself out loud as she began to fumble at her straps before her resolve faltered. No one will see, she chanted to herself in her head as swivelled her head round, on the look out for some peeping tom or burglar or anyone else that might be up on the roof at this time
With a click her bra came loose and Esmé felt her breasts flop out, bouncing slightly in their newfound freedom, and in spite of herself she let out a sigh of relief. Her breasts had never enjoyed the confines of a bra, especially in this weather, and the fresh air felt so good against them, she almost forget that she was in such a public place. Losing the weight of her sodden bra was also a positive benefit, and she was amazed at just how much water poured out when she rang out the bra before she hung it to dry on the trellis.
Then after a final check to make sure the coast was still clear she hoicked down her knickers and rung them out too before she hung them up as well. I’m completely stark naked, Esmé realised, and a nervous laugh burst out of her as she instinctively covered her crotch with one hand and tried to cover her breasts with her other hand, with mixed results.
This is ridiculous, Esmé decided after a minute or two of squatting awkwardly by the potting shelf, I need to get on and water the plants now or else I’ll end up soaking my clothes again with how my lucks going today.
Willing herself into action Esmé slowly rose up to a standing position, then took a deep breath and lowered her hands. As she stood there, utterly naked and completely exposed she felt an absurd rush of pride in herself, still not quite able to believe that she was actually doing this. She couldn’t even remember the last time she had looked at herself naked, yet here she was, nude for all the world to see. Or at least she would be if there was anyone else around. This did seem like a golden opportunity for her to actually take that look though, as it was clear she’d be here a while waiting for her clothes to dry anyway.
I can’t believe it’s been so long, Esmé wondered as she gingerly as she decided to have a look at herself. She started with her feet, smiling at how lovely her nails looked, before tracing her way up her legs, past her thick thighs to the space between. Her pussy was shaven as always, her neat stubble offering no concealment to the shapely lips of her vagina which sat there shyly in the sun, like a crab out of its shell. Then came her tummy, not thin by any stretch but not flabby either, and very huggable and cuddly she had been told, although the most discussed part of her anatomy came next. Her breasts were fluffy full double d’s, tipped with large pink nipples that appeared to Esmé’s eyes to be surprisingly stiff at present, pointed almost as if they were aroused.
You are one gorgeous looking lady Esmé Bush, she reminded herself, giving a little celibratory shimmy, delighting at how how body jiggled and shook. I belive I am what the kids these days might call a MILF.
Esmé found herself blushing, surprised to have had such thoughts about herself but pleased nonetheless and it brought a smirk to her face to imagine what her class would say if they could see her now. She was pretty certain that most of the boys and even a few of the girls would give anything just to see her without her top, let alone full blown nudity.
One thing she had noticed though was just how pale her skin was looking. Esmé’s skin had always had a pearly quality to it, but at present she looked more like a vampire, so clearly she hadn’t been letting her body see enough sun, which was ironic given the fine weather.
That was when she remembered that there were some lovely deckchairs out on the rooftop, in the tranquil little water garden. I really should be dealing with the greenhouse though, Esmé thought, remembering why she was here and snatching up the hose before it completely drowned the bed she’d left it in. She began to water again, but it was very half-hearted and her mind was still trying to come up with reasons to get out of it.
It’s not like it’s going anywhere, and I don’t have any plans tonight, I could just give myself a breather for once, and just take some time to enjoy the sunshine.
Esmé found that she agreed with that logic, unsurprisingly given it was her head offering it, but regardless she never gave herself a break, and her skin did desperately need to tan up a little. Switching off the hose before she plonked it down, then retrieved her bottle of pocket suncream from her bag. She shivered slightly as she put it on, and when she applied it to her breasts and crotch she felt tingles run through her body that had nothing to do with how cold the cream was.
Esmé propped the greenhouse door open with a rake, although the breeze was so light that she didn’t really see a need for it. Then she crept shyly over to the deckchairs, sinking into the nearest one, and sprawling herself out. At first she shielded her intimate areas with her hands again, but as she relaxed into the soft warm canvas, with the heat of the sun kissing her skin she let them fall to her sides. It surprised her how good the sunlight felt on her tits and pussy, and she struggled to recall if they had ever experienced this sensation before.
Stretching out further still Esmé let her body go limp as she felt the stress she had been carrying with her lately drain away in her comfort. There was a pleasant breeze picking up now, which felt incredible as it caressed her body, intensifying the pleasant tingles she was experiencing.
She was actually beginning to drift off to sleep when she heard the clang, followed by the unmistakable slamming of a door.
Part of Esmé knew what she would see before she even opened her eyes, but all the same she felt her stomach lurch at what she saw. The rake had slid over in the same breeze that had slammed the greenhouse door shut, the very same greenhouse that had the keys in. And her clothes. And her phone. And her purse.
Well, I suppose on the brightside, at least I’m not totally naked, Esmé tried to comfort herself, I still have my sandals.
Part 1 – “A very casual friday” will be flashing its way back onto your screens soon!