Early School Memories [0]
I went to school in the 60’s and 70’s. I attended an all-boys school, so opportunities for seeing an ‘upskirt’ were limited. We were fortunate that there were a number of good-looking female teachers who were not too old and were worthy of ‘perving’ on if you could get away with it. Mind you, in such an environment, any woman was worth looking at even for the rare chance of catching a glimpse of something sexy and erotic, such as a bit of thigh, a ‘down-blowse’ peek of her décolleté, her cleavage, or even the space between her thighs even if the illumination forbids seeing anything specific up there.
Thus, it was a question of quality over quantity. Seeing a teacher upskirt is surely worth more than just seeing up a fellow female student’s skirt who is not so careful to cover up.
Admittedly, views were few and far between, but they were worth it, and the memories were worthy of preserving, and using for wanking material for posterity!
I distinctly remember a really memorable occasion. It took place when I was in the 2nd grade in Biology. We had a really cute and to everyone’s estimation, even some of the male staff, a good-looking Biology mistress, Miss W******s, dark haired, slim, good legs which she usually enhanced by wearing skirts rather than pants. She would also wear white or light-coloured blouses so you could see a hint of her bra through them.
The Biology lab was in a new science wing that had been added on only a few years earlier. The stairs to the lab were rather steep, but on one side there was a glass wall so there was plenty of light. Miss W******s had the practice of checking we were all lined up quietly outside the lab. There was not a long corridor outside the lab, so some of us were forced to line up on the stairs. Miss W******s would wander to the bottom of the stairs then inspect us as she ascended to the lab to let us in.
I remember on one occasion that she did this, she was wearing a straight black skirt which flared a bit. She walked slowly and deliberately eyeing each one of us. I was lined up about halfway down the stairs. After she passed me, I took the liberty of bending down to see if I could catch a glimpse up her skirt. I really did not expect to see anything. Was I ever wrong? I must have crouched lower than I anticipated for I caught a glimpse of her sky-blue panties, clear as day. She carried on ascending, completely oblivious of my antics.
I did not want to risk this procedure again so I resorted to using a little vanity mirror which I could conceal in the palm of my hand and utilise as she passed. In this way I got to see her panties on a number of other occasions, too. One time they were plain white cotton ones, another time they were pink and yellow pastels, and I remember seeing her in navy blue knickers, too, like schoolgirls wear.
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