Get Blair’s Backing

Thursday lunch time, you go looking for Blair, armed with Anissa’s petition. You find her in her office, just off the sports hall. It is an office filled with sports equipment, her desk besieged by mats, hockey sticks, boxes of lost property (mainly clothing, gym slips, underwear, blouses, skirts, shorts, how some of these were left behind is a mystery), loose weights, dumbbells, and bags of balls (footballs, hockey balls, tennis balls, netballs, beach balls in various degrees of deflation). Her desk is equally cluttered, unopened laptop, papers, a picture of Blair holding a sausage dog. She’s rummaging through a box of clothing when you knock on her open door.

“Well, hello.”

“Blair, can I have a word with you?”

“Of course. What can I do for you?”

Under her blue eyes you suddenly feel small. When she stands up straight, she’s taller than you, and she’s more muscular, and she’s wearing tight clothes which highlight all her curves. Just the sight of her makes your cock stir.

“Um… I don’t know whether you’ve heard, but there’s petition going round to get Father Norris the Catholic Priest of St Paul’s to speak at the assembly.”

“Anissa’s trying that thing again?”

“Yes, well, I’m helping her. I was wondering whether you’d be willing to sign it?”