I had left work early to make the urgent appointment with the headmaster. He had asked to see us both, but typically my husband. Sean had drunk three pints at lunchtime and was the bookmakers when the call came. So, it fell to me to go on my own.
Jill, the Headmaster’s Secretary, smiled sympathetically as she ushered me into his office and closed the door behind me. Seated behind the desk, Mr Hanson indicated I should take a seat.
Sinking into the chair on the other side of the desk from the headmaster, I slipped off my coat to reveal the black plunge-cut mini dress that I had worn to work in the pub. The long-sleeve mesh-style dress had a body-con fit that clung to the full curves of my chubby body and ran down to mid-way down my thick thighs. The plunging cut out front drew attention to the swell of my heavy boobs, which were pushed up by the laces that ran up and around the neck and across the underside of heavy mounds.
My long, jet-black hair cascaded over the shoulders of the dress, and a pair of large, silver-scaled, diamond-shaped earrings dangled from my ears, almost guiding the headmaster’s eyes down to the indecent amount of busty flesh that was on display. Mr Hanson was almost transfixed. With an inward smile of satisfaction, I looked inquiringly at him.
“Mrs Mitchell, I regret that this latest incident leaves me with little choice but to recommend to the Governors that Tyler is expelled. It fits with a pattern of serious and persistent behaviour that we cannot tolerate,” the headmaster explained, trying desperately to keep his eyes on mine rather than on my cleavage.
“Surely there must be some way we can avoid that, Mr Hanson,” I sighed, pouting my bright red painted lips and pushing out my full chest. He paused as if considering my suggestion, his eyes widening slightly when I uncrossed and then recrossed my legs, so that the short dress rode even further up my chunky thighs.
“Tyler seems incapable of abiding by the school rules and standards of behaviour we expect of pupils,” Mr Hanson replied in a tight voice, his eyes drawn to the plunging front of my tight dress and then down to its hem, which had ridden even further up as I recrossed my legs for a second time, giving him a fleeting glimpse of my red thong.
“His dad will kill the little sod if he is expelled from yet another school,” I murmured, running a long fake fingernail down the valley between the flesh jutting out of the lace-tied front. “Is there nothing I can do to persuade you to give Tyler another chance?” I pleaded, biting my collagen-enhanced lips.
“Wha…what on earth are you suggesting, Mrs Mitchell?” the poor man whispered, glancing at the closed door and then returning his wide-eyed gaze to the finger as it ran suggestively over my deep cleavage.
Raising both plucked eyebrows, and with a knowing twinkle in my eyes, I stood and moved quietly around the desk. Reaching behind, I untied the laces that ran behind my neck, allowing the dress to fall around the curves of my wide hips. The headmaster groaned audibly as my heavy mounds were revealed in all their glory.
“M…Mrs Mitchell, this really is most inappropriate,” he protested in a hoarse tone, glancing frantically once again at the closed door whilst I spun his chair around and lent forward, locking eyes and dangling my boobs in front of his blushing face.
“Are you sure about that, Headmaster?” I purred with an amused look, running a fingernail over the prominent tent in the crotch of his suit trousers. “Seems to me like we might have a very appropriate way of avoiding you having to expel my Tyler,” I continued, loosening his belt and prising open his flies.
The headmaster stammered a half-hearted plea for me to stop. His breathing was laboured and, despite his protestations, his eyes were glued to the pendulous breasts almost touching his face. Rubbing the plaint flesh over his nose and lips, I slowly sank to my knees, tugging his trousers and pants down as I went. His rock-hard cock sprang to attention in front of my enhanced lips.
“Nice cock, Headmaster,” I winked, running a fake nail over the glans. He groaned, his eyes closing at my touch. In truth, he was on the small side, but he didn’t need to be reminded of that in the circumstances. His eyes opened and he moaned softly as I leant forward and pulled his manhood towards my cleavage.
“Is this in line with school standards of behaviour, Mr Hanson,” I murmured, leaning forward and guiding his rock-hard girth towards my cleavage. With a pout of my collagen-enhanced lips, I used both hands to press my massive boobs around his aching cock.
“A pupil’s mum with her fat tits wrapped around the headmaster’s cock as he sits behind his desk,” I purred, drooling onto the tip of his manhood as it poked out from its fleshy cage. Utterly defeated, he groaned with resigned arousal, watching me with almost glazed eyes.
“Imagine the governors finding out that you had a parent on her knees in your office giving you a tit wank,” I moaned, repeatedly rubbing soft flesh up and down the length of his throbbing shaft. He was panting now, his hands gripping the arms of his chair. His thighs tensed. His face flushed. He was so close.
“Cum for me, Mr Hansen,” I urged, working his sensitive cock with determined thrusts of my torso, saliva and pre-cum-coated boobs running so tight over his girth that the foreskin had been peeled back to reveal an angrily purple head. “I want your load all over my big fat slutty tits, Headmaster.”
It was all too much for the poor bloke. With a whimper of desperate release, he tensed, cock twitching frantically, jizz oozed from the open glans, pouring onto my hands and the soft flesh that was encasing him.
Slumping back, he groaned, eyes unfocused and panting. “So, Tyler will be staying at this school, Headmaster,” I confirmed with a grin, using his handkerchief to clean myself before pulling up my dress and fastening the laces behind my neck. With a resigned nod, he stood and hastily dressed himself. “We’re all good, then.” I winked, turning and making my way from his office.
_____________________________________________________________
Making my way down the corridor after the end of lesson bell, I saw mum going into the headmaster’s office. Tyler, I sighed inwardly, knowing my little brother had managed to drop himself deep in it, yet again.
With a free period stretching ahead, I ducked out of a fire exit, round the back of the toilet block and down a narrow alleyway. Checking I hadn’t been followed, I opened the decrepit old door to a disused store and crept inside. Leaning against the cool brickwork, I rummaged deep into my school bag and retrieved a packet of cigarettes.
“They stunt your growth,” a vaguely amused male voice informed me. Nearly jumping out of my skin, I hastily dropped the packet into my bag. Too late. Glancing up, I knew I was in big trouble.
“Third strike, Danni. That means automatic suspension,” Mr Lewis confirmed in an authoritative tone, holding his hand out for the cigarettes. “And with your family’s track record around here, I suspect the headmaster might take that even further.”
“But, Sir, I’m weeks away from leaving this place; surely, you can cut me some slack,” I sighed, making doe eyes at the not-unattractive sports teacher.
“Not a chance, young lady. You know my views on smoking.” He shrugged, his hand still held out. With a stamp of frustration, I moved closer and placed the packet in the outstretched palm.
“Please, sir,” I pleaded, fluttering my eyelashes and gently pushing my chest out against a blue school shirt that was too small but which mum had refused to replace at this late stage. In fact, it was so tight across my bust that the material stretched open between the buttons, revealing a glimpse of my white V-plunge bra.
“Please, Sir, what, Danni,” Mr Lewis asked with a raised eyebrow, his eyes flickering momentarily across my bosom.
“I’d do anything, Sir,” I whispered, moving a little closer; my lips parted slightly in a pout. He was a bloke, after all, so it was worth a try.
“Corny line, Danni,” he chuckled, trying not to glance down at the outline of my firm young breasts.
“I mean it, Sir. Anything,” I whispered, undoing the top two buttons on the uniform shirt that was straining across my bust.
“Danni, I’m one of your teachers,” Mr Lewis cautioned. But despite himself, his eyes dropped onto the swell of my breasts as I popped further buttons.
“I know, Sir,” I pouted, letting the shirt float to the concrete floor and taking a step towards him. Reaching behind, I unclipped the white plunge bra and allowed it to drop on top of the discarded uniform shirt. I looked up at him with doe eyes, my school tie dangling provocatively between my firm teenage breasts.
“Anything you want, Sir,” I whispered, running a finger over the bulge that was growing in his tracksuit trousers. “Anything.”
“Danni, this is wrong; you are a pupil,” he protested with little real conviction, his eyes, the quick lick of his lips, and the rapidly growing tent in his trackies telling another story.
“I’ve seen you eyeing me up in the gym, Sir,” I whispered, slipping a hand down inside his tracksuit trousers. The sports teacher exhaled, a tremor running through his loins as my fingers found the rigid length concealed within them.
“Couldn’t take your eyes off me in my tight little shorts and t-shirt, could you, Sir,” I asked, with a knowing look, easing his trackies and boxers down over his toned arse, and allowing his thick hard cock to spring free. His face was a picture and confirmed the truth in my accusation.
“Standing there at the edge of the gym, thinking about me, naked and at your mercy,” I murmured, wrapping little fingers around his rigid muscle. I could see him struggling with himself, his legs shaking slightly and his jaw clenched with sexual tension.
“Imagining…pinning…me…down…and…fucking…me…any…way…you…wanted,” I purred, each word accompanied by a fluid motion of my wrist as I wanked the teacher’s throbbing manhood.
Suddenly, he snapped. With an animal growl, Mr Lewis grabbed me and spun me around. Hands firm on my wrists, he slammed my palms hard onto the brickwork, causing me to squeal with shocked delight. Holding me there with one hand, he used the other to pull my tartan school skirt around my waist.
“Please, Sir, I’ve been such a naughty girl,” I simpered, looking over my shoulder at the sports teacher with a provocative pout, hands spread wide on the wall of the disused storeroom, legs braced, and arse pushed out for him.
“Little prickteasing bitch,” he snarled, yanking my white cotton knickers to one side and pressing the tip of his cock against my smoothly shaven mound. With a growl, he shifted his hands onto my smooth, round buttocks and pressed slowly into me.
“Please, Sir, give it to me,” I sobbed when his domed head parted the folds of my labia. Mr Lewis groaned loudly, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of my pert little arse as he felt my muscles contracting around his thick girth.
“This what you want, is it, Danni?” he grunted, slamming himself into me from behind. I screamed, eyes wide and mouth falling open with the sudden shock of his cock jamming against my cervix.
“Oh my God, Sir! Yes, yes, yes,” I wailed, hands hard against the cool brickwork and legs braced against the impact as he buried himself into me again and again. The air filled with his grunts, my whimpers, and the slap of flesh on flesh.
Quite without warning, he pulled out. I mewed, looking behind me in disappointment. “On your fucking knees,” he sneered, standing back slightly and stroking his cock slowly. Obediently, I sank onto my haunches, with my back pressed against the wall.
Moving forward, he grabbed my hair in both hands and tilted my head up. “Suck my cock, you little slut,” he demanded, watching me immediately part my lips and accept his domed head into my mouth. But before I could go to work with my tongue, he began to piston his cock into my mouth, his hands holding me firmly in place, my palms flat on his muscular thighs and my arse balanced on my school shoes.
“I’ll…teach…you…not…to…smoke…you…filthy…little…fucking…chav…whore,” he vented in time with each thrust whilst subjecting my face to an absolute pounding. In the gloom of the disused store, his low, harsh voice carried over the “cluck, cluck, cluck, cluck, cluck,” I was frantically emitting in response to the repeated violation of my throat.
Releasing his grip on my head, Mr Lewis slipped from my mouth. Looking up with watery eyes, cheeks streaked with mascara, gagging and coughing, throat burning, and drool running from the corners of my bruised lips, I watched the sports teacher take himself in hand. Jaw set, eyes like flint, fingers of his other hand twisted in my dark hair to keep me focused on his cock, he grunted with release. Hot, thick, salty ropes of semen splattered onto the soft skin of my cheeks, onto my nose and down onto my chin.
“Bloody hell, Sir, when I said I deserved to be punished,” I sputtered, my face a mess of mascara and cum, thick strands of slobber and semen drooling down over my chin and onto my neck and boobs, soaking the fabric of the school tie that hung in the valley between the firm mounds of young flesh.
“Repeatedly being caught smoking required me to take firm disciplinary measures, young lady,” the sports teacher winked, lifting my tie and using it to wipe his cock clean.
“This tie is ruined now, Sir,” I signed, rolling my eyes and reaching into my school bag for a sports towel.
“It had stains on it already,” Mr Lewis shrugged, pulling up his tracksuit trousers and watching me wipe the mess from my face and body.
“What is it about men and dropping their load on this tie?” I pondered, getting dressed back into school uniform.
“I think it’s more about the owner than the tie, Danni.” He grinned. “So, this – and your smoking – stays between us, right?”
“Fine by me, Sir.” I giggled, pushing the door open. Checking no one was around, I snuck down the alleyway and through the fire door, almost bumping into Mum as she walked away from the headmaster’s office.
Mum looked at me quizzically, taking in my flushed face, lack of makeup, and tangled hair. “Just finished a really punishing physical education session with Mr Lewis,” I blurted out, drawing a knowing look. “How did it go with the headmaster?”
“I managed to get Tyler off this time,” she confirmed. I congratulated her, asking how she had managed to pull that out of the bag. “Probably the same way you dealt with Mr Lewis, luv,” she replied, arching a plucked eyebrow and looking pointedly at my ruined and very stained school tie.
