Ginni Returns

Mrs Grayson turned towards Summer, who opened her mouth instinctively as Mrs Grayson swilled his cum together and spat a fat wad of frothy cum extremely forcefully at her, which broke up in the air and went all over Summer's face.

Ian gripped the shorts. They were at least forty years old, and appeared to be from the eighties, when there had famously been a silk shortage and even footballer's shorts were positively indecent. There was meant to be an underpant lining in them but it had probably perished with age.

'Unbelievable,' he said.

He looked from the shorts to the five absolutely cum-splattered whores. Their faces were dripping with heavy, gluey spunk. The slopes and round, bubbly curves of their massive, projecting tits were covered all over in thick, gluey white ropes that had stuck where it landed on them. It was in their hair, it was dripping off their chins, and it was roping its way down the chiselled guttering of their etched hardbody abs in white rivulets. He had fucking blitzed them. Some of them were connected together with ropes of the stuff.

Clip-clop-clip-clop...

Ginni was approaching the door as the incorrigible CC attached her plump bimbo lips to the tip of his cock.

There was nothing for it. He would have to put them on.

Thankfully it had been a powerful orgasm and Ian normally steel-hard dick had come down from its normally preternaturally tumescent state into one of mere rubberiness, even though it remained every bit as thick and long as Laura's arm.

'Give it to me!' Ian protested, grabbing his massive prong and struggling to pull it out of CC's plump lips, the blonde, cum-splattered whore giving it another final smooch. It came away with a crisp popping sound. Ian grabbed his cock nearer the base and shook it firmly, sending the last of his oozing, white, syrupy load splattering all over the fivesome of whores that opened their mouths and stuck their tongues out appreciatively as they were speckled with the final drops of spunk from his dripping member.

'Shit,' Ian said, 'shit, shit, shit.'

He took his dick, and, with no time to think, swung it all the way around his groin, and wrapped it ropelike around his hips, curling it around his ass, and almost the full circumference of his body so that the bloated, cum-leaking head was almost nuzzled up against the root of the thing and he was wearing it around himself like a belt.

'That'll have to do,' he said, donning the shorts and making sure his capacious balls were lodged in the central part. He tucked the top of the shorts up, making sure his fat, bloated hog wasn't peeping out of it at any part.

He looked ridiculous.

Now Laura belched wetly. 'You look ridiculous.'

'Shut up you,' Ian said, 'all of you get on the sofa.'

Ian shoved Laura onto the sofa and she collapsed with the others into a giggling heap of sticky tits and ass. He could hear the handle turning on the door as he sprung to the other side, put his shoulder to the side of the sofa and heaved against it, pivoting the couch in a semi-circle at a hundred and eighty degrees. Now, instead of facing the room, the sofa faced the window.

'Mr White?'

He turned. Ginni was there, framed in the doorway.

'Ginni,' he said, 'did you find the ladies alright?'

He looked behind himself just to check, and saw the back of the sofa, neither Laura nor any other of their colleagues visible.

'Just about,' Ginni said, 'I took a wrong turn along the way. Where is everyone?'

'They've gone off to teach lesson four,' Ian said, 'didn't you hear the bell? We'd better be getting along too.'

Ginni paused. She pushed her glasses more firmly up her nose.

'There's something different about you, Mr White,' she said, finally, 'weren't you wearing trousers before?'

Ian looked down.

'I was,' he confessed, 'but Laura suggested, after examining my knee, that it would be better if I wore shorts for a while to let my skin breathe. Cool it off a bit.'

'I see,' Ginni said, moving forwards and shutting the door behind her, 'and also, there's something else I have been meaning to ask you. Now that we're alone.'

Oh my god, Ian thought, it's finally happening. It's here. She's going to come onto me. Right here in the staffroom, thinking we're alone. Why do I have to be so irresistible to women? It isn't fair! And with Laura and the rest of them right behind me!

'Mr White,' Ginni said, 'I don't know quite how to put this...' she trailed off.

Here it comes, Ian thought.

Ginni gestured to the chrome stripper pole in the centre of the staffroom.

'Why is there a stripper pole in the middle of the staff room?' Ginni said.

Oh, thank God for that, Ian thought. Relief flooded over him. Lying was now becoming second nature to him. This was an easy one.

'Oh, that,' he said, gesturing to the stripper pole, 'that's not a stripper pole. This building used to be a fire station. We repurposed everything when the school took it over but when it came to the pole it appears that it is load-wearing so they had to leave it.'

'You mean load-bearing,' Ginni corrected him.

'That's what I said, load-wearing,' Ian agreed.

'You just said load-wearing again,' Ginni said.

'Did I say load-wearing?' Ian said, getting ever-so slightly flustered, and trying not to think of the five sluts directly behind him, all of whom were currently wearing his dripping, thick, steaming load, 'I meant load-wearing.'

'You... you said it again.'

'I said load-wearing didn't I?' Ian said, cursing inwardly, but with a forced smile of bonhomie, 'sorry Ginni, of course when I said load-bearing I meant load-wearing.'

'You keep saying load "wearing",' Ginni said, eyes narrowing suspiciously, 'but you do mean "load-bearing", don't you?'

Ian thought carefully.

'I mean...' he said, 'what you say.'

'Load-bearing,' Ginni said.

'Load-bearing,' Ian said deliberately and slowly.

Ginni looked relieved, 'I'm glad you've cleared that up, Mr White. Load wearing it is!'

'Load-bearing,' Ian corrected her.

Now Ginni looked flustered, 'goodness, you're right! It's not as easy as you think, is it?'

'It certainly isn't, Ginni,' Ian said. 'Now, shall we head to the dance studio?'

'That would be lovely.'

Ian gestured towards the door and Ginni went through it. Just before he managed to close it behind him, there was a colossal belch behind them.

'What on earth was that?' Ginni said, taken aback.

'Drains,' Ian said, 'nasty stinking drains.'