Miss Taylor’s memento

“So,” Ian asked Miss Taylor once Giselle lowered the camera to imply that her work there was done, his voice breaking up from how the busty blonde immediately reached for his cock and began to jerk it, a low moan being pushed out of her mouth as she looked over his shoulder at how her fingers progressed down the thick length of his ginormous tool.

“Yes?” Miss Taylor cooed out her question while Ian was captivated by the sight of Zoe falling down onto her back and spreading her legs wide in front of him as she slid her right hand in underneath the tiny front of her infinitesimal thong, which was once more in a position of being able to provide her dripping sex with some hugely insufficient cover, and pushed the back of it out until it looked as the though the thin straps of the undersized garment would simply snap before rolling her whitewashed eyelids down as she abandoned the stretching of her panties and began to toy with her hot snatch instead.

“Zoe,” Ian called out, temporarily forgetting all about what he was going to ask Gina as he stared at the teenage blonde superslut finger-fucking herself on the ground, waiting until her eyes had opened before breathing out a tired and satisfied “get that thong off.”

The school’s costume department had already lost one pith helmet that day, and now it also went on to lose one half of a jungle-slut outfit when Zoe’s response to Ian’s command was to let out an aroused grunt and then thrust the back of her hand forwards against the thong’s sheer front until it was stretched so far that both of its straps were simultaneously snapped clean.

Despite the abundant reserves of balljuice decorating her face, there was no mistaking that Zoe was downright proud of what she had just done, particularly not when she held the ruined piece of underwear up between her pinkie and her thumb and dangled it so that the cumropes attached to it had reason to first quiver and then snap to fall down onto her stomach.

“Good girl,” Giselle was snapping pictures again while Ian was now in control of the situation, an impressive feat when one considered the fact that the way in which Miss Taylor’s hand were bobbing back and forth across his cock had a peculiar way of putting some strain on his ability to concentrate, “but now I want you to take that slutty little thong and stuff your pussy with it.”

First licking her cum-splattered lips and then baring her perfect teeth with a dirty smile, Zoe went on to dangle the thong above her sex so that one end of it brushed against her puffy labia before switching her hold of it and bringing it down closer to her pulsing slit, her huge boobs wobbling softly from the discharge of precum which Ian had sent out to land in the steep valley that ran between the two proud mounds.

Squinting hard and releasing a soft moan while juices trickled out of her slit and a thick stream of his cum dribbled out of her distended ringpiece, Zoe began to feed the ruined thong into her pussy, doing her best to hold her hand so that Ian could see her make it disappear in between the swollen lips of her sex.

Observing how Zoe dug her ass deeper into the ground as her mound swallowed up the scant thong was enough to prompt Ian to pump out first one long jet of precum, which Miss Taylor directed onto Zoe’s face, and then another, with the statuesque blonde behind him having adjusted her aim so that it would rain down onto the blonde teen’s tight belly.

In the end, the only thing suggesting that Zoe had just buried her thong inside her pussy was the inch or so of the thin spaghetti strap that protruded out from between her labia, and she celebrated the fact that she had done as the huge-dicked stud towering over her had instructed her to do by tracing the tip of her index finger around her clit before finally pressing down on it hard, gasping out loud and pushing her sex up against her hand as the flow of juices inside her sex served to further soak the thong.

“So,” Ian remembered that he’d been meaning to ask Miss Taylor something, “Do you have another class for me to lead?”

“I’ll tell you about it later, stud,” Miss Taylor assured as she kept on milking his heavy fucktool, “but right now I’m more interested in getting a little memento of today.”

“Oh?”

“Giselle,” Miss Taylor offered Ian’s turgid prick one last fisting before releasing it, apparently having decided that Zoe was much too occupied with rubbing her clit to try and steal Ian away from her, “do you still have any film in that camera?”

“Uh-huh,” Giselle nodded as she followed how first Miss Taylor and then Mr. White turned around, with the voluptuous head of supply bending forwards so that her ass jutted back to allow Ian’s clublike cock-knob to bump against one of her buttocks.

“Well then,” Gina spoke to Giselle, “I would consider it a personal favour if you were to snap a few shots of me and Mr. White.”

“Now Mr. White, would you mind awfully if I was to implore you to ram that huge, glorious monstercock that you’ve got sticking out from between your legs into my tight, hungry asshole and just pound away without a worry in the world?” Miss Taylor asked as she leaned away from Ian and pulled the right one of her delectable ass-cheeks aside to reveal her widened sphincter to him, allowing Ian to spot the how the elastic ring of muscles was decorated with a multitude of jizz-tendrils.

“Not even slightly,” Ian replied before smacking one of his hands down on her ass and digging the heel of it into the lush swell of one of her buttocks while the other one was used to guide his cockhead up against her cinnamon ring.

“Fuck me, baby…” Gina urged Ian with a voice dipped in lust and eagerness, and then a hoarse groan poured out of her mouth to unfold itself into a deep shriek of instant arousal as he did her bidding by stabbing the fist-sized, cum-sleek crown of his cock past her tight rear entrance, his balls already oscillating from the load which he was going to spray her with in the not-so-distant future.