by Lisa Grant
Mandy St John was the kind of girl that broke boys' hearts and reduced tough chaps to quivering jellies. She had long, natural blonde hair, cut in a raunchy 'just-been-tumbled' style; big baby blue eyes; full pouting lips, which she frequently kept moist with the flickering tip of her pink tongue; and a beauty queen's figure. She was a fairly tall girl, with the sort of shapely long legs that seem to go on for ever. But thank goodness they didn't go on for ever, because they were crowned by the most exquisitely rounded bottom in the world... or at least so thought Michael Corby, the Head Boy of St Andrew's Preparatory and High School, as he gazed longingly at the girl walking into the school assembly hall, along with the rest of her classmates of the Upper Sixth.
Ever since the governors had decided to introduce a number of girls into the sixth form of what had traditionally been an all-boys' boarding school, Michael had fantasised about Mandy. At nearly nineteen he was almost a year older than her, and he was in the exalted and much respected position of Head Boy of the whole school, so he was a good catch for any girl, but unfortunately Michael was rather shy around the opposite sex, a fact which wasn't helped by the fact that he had only ever been around boys at school until last year. This sudden influx of shapely, sweet-smelling females into the sixth form had thrown a lot of the boys off-kilter, not least Michael. This meant hat he hadn't even plucked up the courage to speak to this new girl of all his dreams and fantasies.
Mandy St John, on the other hand, was anything but shy around the opposite sex, and had already had a string of boyfriends and many frustrated admirers that she teased but wouldn't let get too close. She knew exactly how desirable she was, and she loved the power that gave her. She was determined to exploit her stunning good looks to the full. The other girls of course knew her for what she really was - a prize bitch! Nevertheless, many of them had a sneaking envy for her racy lifestyle. Annoyingly, it seemed that blondes really did have more fun.
Michael's pulse quickened as she passed by, her heady perfume making him reel, but as usual she didn't even give him a second glance. Disappointed, he quickly tried to manoeuvre himself into a position where he could see her during school assembly. Like all the recent influx of girls, she had to wear the regulation navy blue school uniform, but even so she still managed to look different from the others. Better than the others! She had slightly higher heels than most; she wore her skirt just a couple of inches higher above the knee than the others; and she seemed to risk wearing slightly more makeup and jewellery than anyone else, giving her a more sophisticated and provocative look that belied her eighteen years.
Michael's eyes looked longingly at her legs and pondered whether she was wearing tights or his fantasy favourites: stockings and suspenders. It was unlikely, but with a girl like Mandy, who knows! He searched for the tell-tale bump of a clasp under the snug-fitting material of her skirt as it curved at the tops of her thighs. Nothing obvious, but when his eyes reached that magnificent bum, tautly uplifted because of her high heels and jutting out sensuously, his heart skipped a beat, because he could clearly see the outline of her knickers. Tiny little things they were too, not the regulation sort he was sure she was expected to wear. Dreamily, he wondered about their colour, and any pattern...
This sort of fantasy reverie and worshipping from afar went on for weeks, with Mandy never so much as acknowledging his existence. Michael knew she had boyfriends, and he hated them all. The rumour-mill even had it that she had a much older boyfriend in town who she was seeing fairly regularly. Poor Michael just got gloomier and gloomier, having no girlfriend of his own, and not really wanting anyone but the seemingly untouchable Mandy St John.
It was one of Michael's duties, as Head Boy, to keep an eye on the behaviour of other pupils of the school and, in particular, to see that everyone kept to their dormitory after 'lights-out' at 10 o'clock. House prefects were also detailed to help with this duty, especially on Friday nights when the temptation, with the weekend looming, was sometimes overwhelming for boys to get involved in occasional after-dark high jinks and silly pranks.
He was just walking across the front lawn to his own school house at about 9.45 one particular Friday night in early May when, to his surprise, he saw a shadowy figure disappearing through a hole in the hedge. Quickly he ran to this perimeter boundary but, by the time he got there, the figure had vanished, presumably heading for the local town. Breaking bounds was regarded as one of the most serious breaches of rules in a boarding school and could even lead to the offender being expelled. As it was such a grave matter Michael decided he ought to wait near the hole in the hedge to catch the culprit upon their return. It was getting chilly, and the nearest shelter was the groundsman's hut, where at least he could get out of the wind to wait. From there he had a reasonable view over the lawn to the hedge.
Midnight came and went. One o'clock came and went. By half past one the Head Boy was freezing cold and tired, still peering out of the open window. He was beginning to wonder whether the absconder had returned by some different route, when he suddenly heard a rustling sound. He focused as best he could through the gloom and, sure enough, he saw someone emerging through the hole in the hedge. Not being able to identify the shadowy figure in the dark, and worried they might make a run for it, he decided to patiently bide his time and wait until they got closer and couldn't escape unrecognised, before making his presence known. Michael was just about to rush out from his hiding-place and grab the collar of the irresponsible boy when he froze in horror and disbelief. As the figure stepped forward on to the moonlit lawn it became clear that the absconder was none other than Mandy St John!
Michael couldn't move. It was as though he was paralysed. He just couldn't confront her. What would he say? And, in any case, Mandy was the last person he wanted to be expelled. In the end he decided to stay where he was and just watch her go by, somewhat longingly.
She was wearing a white jacket and a pair of those ultra-tight-fitting black stretch satin disco trousers which even in the moonlight showed off her long legs to perfection. How he wished he could drag her into the little hut with him and... And off he went into his little fantasy world again.
He couldn't sleep that night for wondering what Mandy had been doing. Who had she been with? Where had she been? And he also wondered why he hadn't had the courage to confront her. Surely he could have turned the situation to his advantage.
The following Friday a gut-feeling having told Michael Corby to go back to the same spot around 9.45, he lurked once again around the groundsman's hut. Sure enough, within five minutes Mandy emerged from the gloom by the school dorms, furtively skulking across the lawn, heading for her escape route. This time she was wearing the most stunningly short pink miniskirt and white boots. Michael almost fainted with sheer overwhelming teenage lust as she bent down to scramble through the hole in the hedge. He was certain in the moonlight that he had caught a fleeting glimpse of her white knickers!
No point tackling her until her wicked deed was done. Until she actually left the school grounds there was very little to hold over her. So once again he settled down for his chilly night vigil. Once again she didn't return until almost half past one, and once again, when it came to the crunch, he was simply too scared to confront the precociously sexy sixth-former.
He was lecherously gazing at her wonderful bare thighs, revealed to him in all their shapely glory, when he accidentally knocked a garden spade over with a loud clatter. Mandy froze like a startled rabbit, thinking that one of the masters had finally rumbled her regular late night outings. Her self-assured air vanished and she suddenly looked quite frightened and vulnerable as she waited nervously for her unknown and unseen captor to reveal himself.
Michael had decided to stay hidden where he was, but it was obvious that she had heard him. She was looking towards the hut, and she was clearly waiting for somebody to emerge. Shaking like a leaf and clearing his throat nervously, Michael stepped out of the little hut and out on to the lawn.
"W-where d-do you think you're going?" he stammered somewhat lamely, not daring to look the girl of his dreams in the face.
"Ohhh - it's you!" said the stunning blonde sixth-former, breathing a small sigh of relief. Nevertheless, she still looked decidedly nervous about the consequences of being reported to a higher authority.
An embarrassingly long pause followed.
Michael cleared his throat again. "Have you been out of school grounds?" He realised what a stupid question it was as he was saying the words.
"No I put this lot on to go and give a blow-job to the school chaplain in the confessional," the arrogant girl said sarcastically.
There was another interminable pause.
Mandy had of course by now realised that the Head Boy was not really in command of the situation, and was beginning to think that she was going to get off scot-free with her misdemeanour. She certainly hoped so because she was all-too aware how seriously it would be regarded by the senior staff of the school, not to mention her parents who were paying a king's ransom for her to attend this highly respected establishment.
"Listen," she said softly. "It's the first time I've ever done this. My, er, brother needed to see me. I won't be going out after lights-out ever again, I promise. You won't tell anyone, will you?"
Michael's heart might have easily melted, but he knew the truth.
"But you went out last week as well!" he blurted.
Quick as a flash the scheming girl put Plan B into operation. She'd nothing to lose. It was obvious Michael already knew too much.
"Well, yes alright," she said with her best smouldering pout. "I admit it. I go out most weeks. School's such a drag! I like to go dancing on Fridays. No harm in that surely, at my age. Tell you what - why don't you come with me next week? I'll bet you're a wicked dancer."
Michael's heart skipped a beat. Thankfully, she couldn't see him blush in the moonlight. He certainly hadn't expected this development.
"B-but I thought you had a boyfriend. Don't you meet him?"
"Oh, I was going to dump him anyway, and you're much cooler looking."
Michael was rendered speechless.
"Next Friday then," she said breezily now, knowing she'd pulled a stroke. "I'll meet you at quarter past ten in The Fox & Grapes on the high street. Better we don't go out of school together, ey? See ya!" With that the gorgeous blonde gave him a soft but scrumptious kiss on the cheek and hurried off into the night, before the flustered Head Boy had time to gather his wits.
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