Lesbian Lessons (Lesbian Teacher #1)

Kim Bennett loves her job as history teacher at an all girls prep school more than anything. She has to deal with the Dean, a horrible, ancient, disciplinarian but even that is not so bad. Whenever one of her girls is disciplined and punished, they come to Miss Bennett to feel better, and she's an even better teacher of pleasure than History.

Excerpt
Kim stood in the hall silently watching the girl’s slender young body as it was wracked again and again by convulsions which shook it and the cot on which she was lying. Finally she stepped into the room, walked beside the bed and gently laid her hand on the girl’s shoulder.
Kate turned her head and looked at Kim through tear clouded eyes.
“She’s mean,” she sobbed. “She’s a sick, dirty old woman! I know why she does it. I know. She doesn’t care if I see Billy. She just wants to whip us. I know.”
“I know,” Kim soothed. “I know.” She rubbed the girl’s shoulders in an understanding gesture of sympathy. “Here,” she said at length, “why don’t you come down to my quarters. I have some salve that will help you.”
“Oh, Miss Bennett, I…”
“It’s alright, Kate. Come on.”
“Thanks.”
They walked the remaining few yards down the hall to Kim’s quarters. Once inside, Kim told Kate to slip out of her panties and lie down on the bed.
Naive, completely innocent, the girl obviously thought the older woman intended nothing more than to annoint her injured and smarting buttocks with some sort of healing salve. Obediently, she lifted her uniform skirt to her waist and removed her panties so that, when she did lie down on her stomach, the rounded red curves of her buttocks rose like beautiful ripe mounds of pink and inviting flesh.
Kim had difficulty removing her eyes from the beauty of Kate’s twin mounds. She could hardly wait to touch the girl’s flesh, to ease her hurt, and to teach her the pleasures of female contact.
She forced herself to turn away from the girl’s exposed flesh and walk to the bathroom, where, from the medicine chest, she removed a bottle of scented oil. Returning to the bedroom, she poured a little of the oil on her palm, and with soft, gentle strokes began to rub it onto Kate’s injured flesh.
“Tell me how it feels,” she said as she rubbed.
“Better,” Kate told her. “Much better.”
Slowly, with insinuating slyness, Kim moved her hands over the girl’s buttocks so that, occasionally, and only then as if it were the most innocent of accidents, she allowed her thumb the whispered almost-touch of the girl’s genital lips. She thought the could detect a faint, perhaps even involuntary quiver of response each time, but she was unsure.