Miss Hart and James: Field Work on Probation

‘Holy fucking shit!’ James said,

‘Do you like it?’ said Miss Hart. She twirled.

‘Your tits are fucking massive!’

It was a totally unexpected benefit of the job. A perk. You could, if you wanted to, point out that your co-worker’s hooters were huge. Or that they looked like a slut. That their fucking norks got you SPRUNG! That their massive Gazongas were looking particularly fine today. That you liked the bejewelled ‘SLUT’ choker they were wearing. Or that their latest tattoo, a stylised stencil of them taking a facial, was incredibly whorish. And it wasn’t even banter! It was just the way things were. He wasn’t sacked, or cancelled. Vultures didn’t feast on his heart for being sexist. Nine times out of ten, whoreish women cooed, giggled, gave him goo-goo eyes, and dropped to their knees in front of him to do the thing they did best. Incredibly sloppy and involved blowjobs.

‘Thanks stud!’

They were in Miss Hart’s office adjoining the gym. James had been in the school a week. He wasn’t a formal teacher yet. However, he had been enjoying his probationary period more than he had any right to. At times it was as if he were sailing through a sea of cunt. A huge stir had been caused by the announcement that the school was appointing a new – young – member of staff and for the first couple of days he had had to be kept in strict isolation until the cock craze wore down a little. Isolation with Rachael, of course. It hadn’t been a chore, but it had been strenuous.

They put him on a package of enhancement stimulants to ‘even out’ the initial doses that the redoubtable Nurse Pennyweather had surreptitiously managed to administer to him on the outside, the actual real world – what he now thought of as ‘civvie street’, to a hardbitten battle veteran of the demands of the insatiable parade of fucksluts and porn bimbo whores in the school. In any event, Nurse Pennyweather came by to administer the recommended dosage of enhancement pills, and then, tipping him a wink, kissed him demonstratively, trying to delve inside his very soul with her searching tongue, and always passed over a couple into his mouth secretly. So by now, he was fucking huge.

Talking of fucking huge.

Laura stood in front of James in a wide stance, flaunting her impossible body at him in a whoreish and brazen way.

The fucking bazongas that stuck out of her chest the size of footballs had to be seen to be believed and the bronzed, flawless skin was incredibly taut. He abs were spectacularly tight, like a corrugated sheet of iron. Her face was a perfectly proportioned, aesthetically sublime piece of perfect bimbo beauty. She was wearing stripper heels with 8 inch soles, a pair of black wetlook leggings that showed every contour of her legs with a shiny glint, and a matching shiny black bra and elbow-length black gloves.

‘Would it be bad if I took out my cock and started to jerk it, Laura?’ James asked, ‘because you’re so fucking hot it’s difficult not to.’

It was now completely natural for him to refer to her in that way.

‘Ha,’ said Laura, fixing him with a smile that melted him, ‘while it’s tempting to see how you’re shaping up down there, best to keep the beast inside those trousers for the moment.’

‘Why is that?’

‘Because if I you take it out we’ll never leave. And we have a dinner reservation.’

Miss Hart inclined her torso back slightly and started to use her pecs to make her huge torpedo tits pump up and down. Sticking her tongue in her cheek, she looked at James and made a jacking off motion with her hand, ‘pack your socks, kid. We’re hitting civvie street.'