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" Marcy responds.The wheels started turning in Al's feeble mind...Marcy must have a tight pussy, because his cock was much larger than the dildo that she was about to use on his wife. He despised Marcy almost as much as Peggy but he couldn't pass up some tight pussy."How's about I loosen that cunt of yours while you make a lesbo out of Peg?" Al asks Marcy as he grabs his crotch.Marcy was about to tell Al to go fuck himself when she noticed the extremely large bulge in his polyester slacks. Marcy despised Al for the way he treated Peggy and would rather fuck Buck, the dog, before fucking Al...but she couldn't ignore what she always wanted... a huge cock... even if it did belong to Al.On the other hand, Al couldn't believe Marcy was getting him horny...the lady he often accused of having the body of a 13 year-old boy. Her dark tan and perky 34B tits were in stark contrast to Peggy's porcelain complexion and extra large tits. Marcy's thong dug deep into her pussy folds...leaving nothing. My body relaxed instantly. The vibrators were now just three dormant plastic objects. I couldn't have been much happier. I was about to cheer in victory when Brad swung the door open."Let me check, hold on." he said to the phone.Fuck!He slid a finger into my glistening pussy. "Yup. Battery's dead." he went out of the room again. In a short while, he came back."Extra long life." he read from the packaging and smirked at me.I shook my head. I would have begged if my mouth wasn't gagged. I would have told him to fuck my pussy or my mouth.Anything but that! I screamed inwardly.------------------------------------------------------------------------------Soccer was never my thing. I never understood the reason for twenty two men to chase over one ball no larger than a watermelon. I never understood the excitement of it. In fact, I would rather watch some documentary about a long lost tribe in Africa than watching soccer.But today was different. I was watching football. Arsenal was up.
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I began scrubbing more furiously and in doing so, didn’t notice the doors to the corridor open. The first I became aware that I wasn’t alone, was when I noticed a black pair of size tens stood just ahead of where I was rubbing. I shut my eyes and prayed that they’d be gone when I opened them again. Sadly, no. A second look revealed the feet to be exactly where I’d left them, my gaze travelled up a pair of familiar, black trouser-clad legs (no I didn’t linger at the crotch, what kind of person do you think I am?), upwards over a very male chest in a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, to a face brimming with barely concealed amusement. At that moment, I’d have sold my mother to have thought to put newspaper down earlier that morning, or better still, to just quietly disappear with a gentle pop, never to be seen again. I mumbled my explanation of what had happened, my cheeks flaming and my insides dying, then I quietly slunk off to my classroom. Later on that morning, I noticed a.

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