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This is the latest in a series of stories which I’m posting on here and also sharing elsewhere. I hope you enjoy it but if bodily functions aren’t your thing you may prefer to give it a miss. The term ‘neet’ is shorthand for a young adult not in education, employment or training.
It was the last period on a Wednesday afternoon and also the last day of college term.
Anne Glenson sat at her desk and quietly completed some paperwork whilst Tom Braithwaite, her last remaining student, put the finishing touches to the drawing he was working on. Nineteen years old, he’d eschewed the opportunities available to study Art at both GCSE and ‘A’ level, preferring instead to do it as a non-examination subject. As his tutor, Anne regretted Tom’s reluctance to study a subject at which has supremely good at to examination level, and her frustration was heightened by the certain knowledge that he’d effortlessly have achieved some good grades. However, she respected Tom’s decisions and admired his individuality. In fact, if the truth be told, she had rather a soft spot for him and they’d hit it off the moment they’d first met. She liked his impish, cheeky ways, whilst fearing that they masked a lack of self-confidence. At the same time, she admired Tom’s determination to stick with his education at a time when, particularly considering his home circumstances, it would have been so easy to drop out and become a neet.
Tom’s father had left home when he was young, never to be seen again. His mother was in work but it was a cruel irony that even in these days of a minimum wage, nay living wage, she still struggled to make ends meet. Her job as a care provider with an agency employed by Social Services required her to work for a “zero hours” contract and only got paid for the time she actually spent with clients, not that spent travelling between them, something which a paltry petrol allowance did little to alleviate.
All of Anne’s other students had sat their exams and left. She’d made it quite clear to Tom that if he didn’t want to see the end of term out it would be perfectly alright. Nice boy that he was, Tom had thanked her politely at the time but it was typical of him that he’d not only wanted to see the term out but be there on the last day too. Unlike most of the teachers, particularly the ones he’d encountered in the Work Preparation Unit, he’d found Mrs Glenson to be kind, amusing and good humoured. She seemed to understand about his clumsiness and awkwardness when it came to deploying the right social skills, whilst doing her best to encourage and foster his creative talents. Tom suffered from a mild form of Asperger’s Syndrome, a condition on the autism spectrum. It meant that he could sometimes be a little awkward and nervous. He could also sometimes be rather frank and didn’t always express himself in ways which took account of the social niceties of the situations in which he found himself. More often than not it had canlı bahis unwittingly got him into trouble – but not with Anne.
Her paperwork complete, Anne got up and walked around to Tom’s desk. As it was the end of term she’d allowed him to draw whatever he fancied and give unbridled rein to his creative impulses. Peering over his shoulder she saw that Tom was completing the finishing touches to a picture of an attractive, sultry-looking woman, with long dark hair and a delightful smile. She was nude too, with huge, pendulous breasts, perfectly trimmed pubic hair and long legs which extended beneath her as she sat on what appeared to be a beach.
“Who’s that of, Tom?”
Tom blushed, hardly daring to look his teacher in the eye.
“It’s of you Miss. Do you like it?”
Anne paused momentarily to think. He’d got her facial features absolutely spot on and the same was true of her hair. Although he’d never seen her naked, at least not to her knowledge at any rate, his portrayal of her pubes was scarily accurate, down to the last hair of her neatly trimmed bush. She was less sure about the breasts though – they were somewhat larger than the ones she laid claim to and considered herself perfectly happy with.
“Yes Tom, I do. You’ve given me a bit of a breast enhancement though.”
Tom grinned broadly.
“I like women with big tits!”
Anne playfully ruffled his hair.
“I know you do, Tom. Remember the time I caught you looking at those rather ‘interesting’ websites in the college library? Clearly they’d not got any filters running then.”
Tom turned a bright crimson. He remembered the incident all too well and had wished at the time that the ground would just open up beneath his feet.”
“I’m really sorry, Miss. I didn’t mean any harm. I was just looking up some porn.”
Anne gave her student a sympathetic look, half smiling as she did so.
“I know Tom, but you’re not meant to watch porn on college computers. They’re for ‘educational use only’ as the notices in the library say.”
“It was educational, Miss. Very educational.”
Anne roared with laughter.
“No doubt it was. Not what the college means by educational though. I won’t try to tell you that porn doesn’t have its place as I believe it does – if only to help people manage their fantasies and difficult desires. It’s not real life though Tom, and you must remember that if you’re to keep out of trouble and not confuse fantasy with reality.
“It was just as well I caught you when I did Tom, as I like you and I was able to make sure it went no further. If the librarian had caught you it would have gone to Mrs Hill, our Head of IT, and you’d have been up before the Principal who, I’m sure, would have seen it as reason for exclusion.”
As she moved away from Tom’s desk, Anne felt an uncontrollable need to fart coming on, and realised that she was unable to stop herself if she’d bahis siteleri wanted.
Tom giggled and pretended to put his hand in front of his face.
At least the windows were open on that hot July afternoon.
“Need a shit, Miss?”
Anne chuckled. This was exactly the sort of frankness which had so often got Tom into trouble with the other teachers.
“Yes Tom, I do. I’ll go later when it’s quiet and there’s no competition for the staff loo in A Block.”
It was alright him making a remark about her blowing off, but Anne remembered how one Tuesday afternoon Tom had farted his way through ninety minutes of what constituted a double period of Art. Tom never went to the toilet at college because he was afraid of the bullies and Anne knew quite well he’d never ask to be excused, however desperately he needed to go. Once the lesson was over and the other students had left, she’d gently said to him, “Come with me” and quietly taken him down to the staff toilets where he’d been able to unload in peace. From her own experience of life she’d known how close he’d been to shitting himself. He’d had the closest of close calls. It was a kind gesture and one which Tom had remembered with affection.
“Here, take this.”
Tom proudly handed her his completed drawing.
“Are you sure, Tom? Don’t you want to keep it – for your bedroom perhaps?”
“No Miss. It’s my last day and I wanted to give you something. You’re not like the other teachers. You’re cool and I’ve been able to have a laugh with you.”
Anne smiled broadly at her student.
“Well thank you and bless you, Tom. That’s high praise indeed. Perhaps you’ve heard but today’s my last day as well as yours – unless you’re thinking of coming back in September to do that ‘A’ Level of which I think you’re well capable.”
“Not without you, Miss. It wouldn’t be the same.”
“Okay Tom, but don’t rule it out altogether. You might think differently come September. If need be I’m sure I could arrange a spot of private tuition and you could pay me by doing a little gardening or something of the sort.”
“Cool Miss. I’d like that.”
“Tom, have you thought about what you might like to do after you’ve left college, apart from use up your mother’s supplies of Kleenex that is?”
“Not really Miss. Mrs Huntley from the Work Preparation Unit says I’m unemployable and I’ll never get a job.”
A spark of anger was kindled in Anne’s normally placid breast.
“Mrs Huntley had no right to speak to you like that. If it wasn’t your last day and mine I’d be having words with her. In fact I’ve half a mind to report her to the Principal. Tom, because of the hand life’s dealt you you’re always going to struggle with some things and it may take you longer to fulfil your dreams than some people. You’re certainly not unemployable though and if I had a job to offer you’d have it tomorrow. You’re a bright lad and you’ve got a bahis şirketleri heart of gold. I can’t say that about many of the students I’ve taught in my time here.”
“Thanks Miss. That’s cool.”
“Tom, I don’t know whether it’s of interest to you or not but I’m going to work with an old friend of mine, and we’re turning the old secondary school at Drydale into a residential health and fitness college. Week beginning 15th August we’re running a four day residential course with an emphasis on developing bladder control skills. I’d be able to offer you a free place, not least of all because I know you’re not known for going anywhere near the college toilets and I’m sure you’d be a great example to the other students on the course.”
“I don’t piss in the bogs Miss but it I don’t hold it in all day.”
“What are you trying to tell me Tom?”
“I have whizz somewhere else on campus. There are some trees behind the refectory and it’s usually quiet round there. That’s where I usually go for a piss. That and occasionally in a corner of the library.”
Anne’s fondness for her student exacerbated rather than hid her despair.
“Oh Tom, I wish I’d known! If I’d realised that was the situation I’d have sorted something out for you.”
“You mean let me use the staff loos?”
“Possibly. I’m sure something could have been sorted for you. Anything’s better than getting your tail out where you shouldn’t and risking getting caught. Anyhow, if you’d like to come on the course at Drydale, my friend and I can teach you some proper pee holding skills so you can hold it effortlessly all day.”
“You hold it all day Miss?”
Tom could feel his cock stiffening at the thought of his favourite teacher – the one he actually got on with – holding her pee in all day.
“Yes. I’m sure you could do the same with the right training. Ask your mother if she’d be happy for you to go on a fitness course and get out from under her feet for a week or so. Better not to mention the pee holding though.”
“Miss, I find the thought of you holding it all day…”
Anne cut her pupil short.
“I know you do, Tom. Maybe that’s why you and I get on so well. An experienced teacher notices the little things. Look, here’s some Kleenex. Don’t sort yourself out until you get home though. I don’t want you getting arrested.”
“Tom, what are you doing on Sunday?”
“Fancy a trip to Scarborough?”
“I’ve no money Miss.”
“Who said anything about money, Tom? All the chips, hot dogs and ice creams would be on me. We could call it an end of term treat and celebrate being friends instead of student and teacher. If your mum’s not working she’d be welcome to join us although I suspect you’d probably rather it was just the two of us.”
“Thanks Miss. That’d be great.”
“Okay Tom. I’ll pick you up at half nine on Sunday then. Don’t be late up!”
Tom excitedly left the Art classroom and Anne gathered her bits together. She felt like a dump and decided that she’d plug the staff toilet in A Block as her parting gift to the college. It was the least she owed them after all.
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