Bob-a-Job, Sir?

"£5,000 is an awful lot of money", Jenny said. "We could do so much good with it. For the children! Errr...would these pictures be confidential?"

"Oh yes!" said Vladimir. "I will take them myself. We are all alone on this floor of the hotel."

"Great!" thought Jenny.

Keeping her dirty ideas to herself, though, the Head of Business Studies tried to look innocent and troubled.

"But I hardly know you, Vladimir" she said. "I will feel so ashamed and exposed, with you fully dressed, and me in my ... errr ...petticoat."

"Alright" said Vladimir (with alacrity). "I'll take my clothes off, if it will help."

And fair play to the gallant Russian, he immediately stripped off. Right down to his underpant-skis. (Which Jenny was delighted to see were a very snug fit!)

Trying not to slaver too obviously, Jenny clocked Vladimir's lean, muscular body. Broad chest and shoulders. (Which Jenny could just visualise straining up and down above her in the good old missionary position – Jenny was a bit of a traditionalist and didn't like to get too kinky on her first date.) Slim, hard torso – just right for wrapping your legs around! And a neat, firm butt, which seemed to have plenty of thrust in it.

"I love my job!" Jenny exulted to herself, as she threw on the gown and mortarboard. The gown, she noticed, had the school crest on, and there was a big banner above the desk saying "Ms Jenny Pratt, BA (Hons), Humpton School, Head of Business Studies".

"Hmmmm...wouldn't want these photos to fall into the wrong hands" she thought. But then it was lights, cameras, action! And Jenny cast aside her worries (and much, much else besides).

The opening snaps would (just about) have passed muster in the school prospectus. Jenny sat demurely at her desk; reading glasses on; wielding a fat red marker pen. Maybe in one or two pics she was giving the pen a little bit too much slobber? Still, by and large, it was a good advert for a Humpton education.

But once Jenny removed her skirt and blouse, it became very difficult to think about Business Studies. Vladimir really became quite flustered! Poor guy. You try holding a camera straight under these circumstances, and simultaneously concealing your cock as it bursts your tight Y-fronts.

Jenny had given a lot of thought to the important question of underwear. And her professionalism and thoroughness was certainly paying off now!

Jenny's black silk Janet Reger combination of balconette bra, bikini-style panties and suspenders looked simply wondrous under the black gown. Better still, as Jenny casually slipped the gown off her beautiful white shoulders, nibbling the apple and smiling most invitingly at the camera.

The mortarboard sat rakishly on Jenny's lovely dark curls. But it completely failed to make the teacher look stern! No instead it told you: "Education Can Be Fun, Boys!"

Jenny wriggled very, very slowly indeed out of her underwear. First she eased the bra straps over her shoulders, cupping her hands over her breasts and working them gently up and down, up and down, you are completely in my power, sir. All the while, she arched and then relaxed her back, breathed very deeply in and out, slowly eased her bra down, and generally caused complete mayhem in Vladimir's underpants.

The whole effect was of a beautiful, creamy, fleshy landscape, slowly shifting. Now a deep valley; now a huge cascade of dangling bosom.

The bra was becoming less and less relevant, and in the end it just flaked away. Leaving Jenny clad in only her panties, stockings, suspenders (and mortarboard). Standing there, with her hands on her lovely spreading hips. And really giving it to the camera with both barrels! What charming nipples! How roguishly they bobbed around, on the end of Jenny's large, low-hanging breasts.

Vladimir's underpants were getting VERY tight now! With shaking hands, he tore them off, and there was quite a slap, as Vladimir's huge engorged cock got free and smacked up into his muscular belly. Oohh, that's better!

Jenny eyed the new arrival very hungrily indeed. She welcomed it with a sloppy kiss, right on its straining pink knob-end. Nice!

Eye contact now became very poor. Because Vladimir was addressing all his remarks to Jenny's chest, and Jenny was responding by talking exclusively to Vladimir's penis. Still, neither of them took the huff!

Jenny's panties were becoming a little moist – they just had to go! Jenny turned her back to the camera, and slowly eased her knickers down. Two large, round, white buttocks simply rippled into view. Jenny absent-mindedly scratched her butt, which gently parted, showing a lovely glimpse of black muff.

Vladimir was almost demented by now, and panting like a walrus. Jenny turned round to face him. If she did this in order to calm Vladimir down, it didn't work! Because the Head of Business Studies was now looking as cunty as sin.

Vladimir started to have trouble pointing his camera straight, so Jenny helped him. She sat on the desk, opened her legs wide, and invited him in for a close up. In this way, he could hardly miss!

But then, remembering that she was at school, Jenny turned back to the desk. A good teacher will keep the class's attention, even when she has her back turned. Jenny did this by throwing one leg up on the desk, as she leant over it and fumbled with the drawer. Her beautiful bare backside opened up quite delightfully, revealing a glorious, damp, hairy snatch, with cunt lips protruding. Seldom could a lesson plan have been so beautifully presented.

Jenny gave a delighted cry – she'd found what she'd been looking for. Yes, it was that essential tool for lady teachers – the dildo! Not in Humpton School colours (it was black and ribbed), but never mind.

Jenny sat on the desk, facing the camera. She hauled up her knees under her ears, so that her legs now formed an 'M' shape, with her wet gaping cunt at the bottom of the M's middle foot.

Now she really started to butter up that lucky dildo! Jenny licked it with great sloppy strokes of her tongue; she kissed it lovingly; she fondled it with her tits. And then she applied it as per manufacturer's instructions: 'Slowly into your steaming gash, madam (diagram attached)'.

Deeper and deeper it went, as the lovely naked woman bucked and thrashed and moaned and drivelled. And then she opened her big beautiful eyes, and gave the camera The Look. You know! That look which says: "if only this dildo were YOU, handsome!"

And that is how Vladimir found himself screwing Jenny on the table. He just couldn't help it! And then he carried her into the bedroom, with their mouths suctioned together. Vladimir threw Jenny on the bed, and chivalrously licked out her cunt. Always a tasty dish, is cunt, especially when stewed in its own juices.

Jenny enjoyed the meal too! She went all sort of floppy and inviting, and so Vladimir had to fuck her again. Well, it was the least he could do. In the finest traditions of the Girl Guide Association (or maybe not), it was a good, panting, sweaty ride.

Bob-a-fucking-job!

And so our heroine fell asleep in the hunky Russian's arms.....

To be rudely awakened a few minutes later!

BRRRRRIIINNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGG!!!!!!!!!

Fire alarm!

Vladimir (a true gentleman) wrapped Jenny in a blanket and bundled her down the stairs. Twenty flights later, they were down in the lobby. Just in time for the hotel staff to inform them that it had been a false alarm.

By this time, Vladimir and Jenny had lost each other in the crowd. In fact, it was a pretty chaotic scene.

The time was just past midnight. The Grand Hotel was in the same block as Rockets night club. Rockets seemed to have some sort of rowdy stag party thing going on, which had been just reaching its climax. As a result, there were a lot of tanked-up, disgruntled blokes crowding the lobby.

As well as this, a 21st birthday party was going on in the hotel ballroom, on the first floor. Also a very dis-chuffed pensioners' coach party had been turned out of bed. The old folks digesting the news that they'd now got to climb umpteen flights of stairs back to their bedrooms. (Lifts disabled – health and safety, you know!)

The manager of the Crown had locked himself in the toilets, for fear of reprisals. The hotel staff were at best knackered, and at worst suicidal. Most of the people around Jenny were pissed. The language was simply terrible, my dear. All in all, Jenny had seen better organised riots.

And it was in this tranquil setting that Jenny had quite a bad break. As she headed for the stairs, someone trod on her trailing blanket. The blanket slipped from her shoulders. Someone else stumbled over the blanket, and flung it aside with a curse. The blanket disappeared in the crowd. And the Humpton Girls School Head of Business Studies found herself naked!

The only good news was that nobody in the mad crowd had registered Jenny's sudden nude calamity. She darted under the stairwell, her large, white breasts heaving with panic.

Crouching under the stairwell like a lovely bare-assed beast at bay, she considered her options. There weren't any!

Perhaps she could cower here in the nude, until the pensioners had finally clambered the stairs? Then flee back to her room?

Disadvantage: Twenty flights of stairs, straight after two sweaty, animal fucks. My God, it would be an arse-juddering, knocker-bouncing, lung-bursting climb. And she would probably get slower and more straddle-legged as she toiled up the stairs. So, what a weary, crawling, cunty spectacle she would become! And no doubt there would be a CCTV pointing up her arse at every flight, with the footage appearing on YouTube before daybreak.

And anyway, that wasn't even the real problem. The true problem started to become very clear, as the desperate naked woman peeked up the stairs.

For the 21st birthday party was back in full swing, and every Sixth Former at Humpton Girls School seemed to be there on the pull. In fact, some of them had pulled already. She saw Mandy Ponsonby-Clapp with one lucky chap, who looked like he was about to get his pipes very nicely cleaned.

On occasions like this, you could hardly rush past your students in the nude with your tits wobbling, could you? It wouldn't be polite.

Instead you should really walk up the stairs in a more lady-like way, with your big bare bristols swaying gently and the hairs on your twat nicely in place. You would then stop to give good advice like "they won't respect you if you show so much cleavage, Victoria" and "don't slobber when you're sucking cock, Mandy". After all, you are a role model for these young ladies!

And you should give them the chance to interface with you. Eg "whose spunk is that oozing out of your cunt, Miss? Anyone I know?"

And in best 'Miss Jean Brodie' style, you could reply: "Don't know much about him, girls. I only met him a couple of hours ago, so it's been a 'whirlwind romance'. What I can tell you is that he's got a gorgeous body and a big cock, which is the main thing to look for in a man. Anyway, he's left me naked on the stairs, so I must go."

And you depart, with a final word to the girls' gentlemen friends: "I know it's tempting, boys, but try not to stare at my arse as I climb the stairs. When I'm stark naked, I get a bit self-conscious! I've had a big meal, so my butt is more floppy than I'd like. Also I'm probably showing you too much cunt as I climb the stairs."

No, Jenny thought, this option was NOT attractive! But suddenly an alternative presented itself....

As Jenny cringed naked under the stairs, she had been observed. A bloke wearing a 'Rockets Club' bomber jacket came up to her in quite a matter-of-fact way. He was quite hygienically challenged. He had an official-looking lapel badge, saying 'Front of House: Jimmy the Rat'. Jenny had rarely seen anyone so well described.

"Come on, love!" he said briskly. "Fire drill's over. The show must go on, eh?"

Looking past him into the night club, Jenny could see a few other naked females making their way to the stage.

"They're having a strip show in there", she thought. "Ugh! And he thinks I'm one of those naked sluts!"

Jenny was about to dismiss the wretch angrily, when he said: "where's your Catwoman mask?" Looking at the stage, Jenny saw a banner saying "Climb The Bat Pole!"

Ah, a little boys' cartoon mag-themed strip show – how classy! But actually, a Catwoman mask would give Jenny one thing she was currently lacking – anonymity. Quick as a flash, Jenny decided to throw in her lot with the stag party (good clean fun, no doubt!)

"Err...I lost it" she said. "Have you got a spare?"

"Yes, here you are, dear" Jimmy the Rat replied, leading the nude and blushing teacher into the strip show. Jenny clapped the mask on – and not a moment too soon!

Because the first person Jenny saw as she walked in was Bill Swett, the school caretaker. The dirty bugger! His eyes lit up when he saw the fine naked slapper.

Bill fondled Jenny's left tit as she brushed past his table. She was about to wallop him, but then she remembered her role. So instead Jenny leant over Bill, and dangled both her lovely bazoomers in Bill's delighted fat face. "You naughty boy!" 'Catwoman' purred. "I'll lick out your cream later!"

Not that she had the slightest intention of doing that! Jenny's plan was to get up on stage, do a few twirls, and then melt away unobtrusively towards the strippers' dressing room. Borrow a robe and escape.

Well, that was the plan. But Jenny's escort immediately demolished that! "Well done, darlin', that was a nice routine with the fat guy on Table 6. You obviously know what you're doing, so I'll keep it brief."

"Get up on stage and finish the act. Then point sexily at one of the tables – you can do Table 6, as you got a nice thing going with Fatty there. Then just help them to get their rocks off, quick as you can and we can all go home. Don't forget, no penetration, but hand jobs, in the mouth, whatever you like." ("Like?" thought Jenny unhappily.)

"OK" she said. "And once I finish Table 6, I can go, right?"

"Yes, dear," said Jimmy. "You look like you know what you're doing! The older ones know a few tricks, eh?!!" ("The older ones!" thought Jenny.)

Anyway, this was no time to stop for a debate about the guy's bad manners. The music was pumping out and the nude Catwomen were mounting the stage. Each one undulated up to a Bat Pole. Jenny was late!

Jenny hastened after her Cat-colleagues, jiggling and wiggling for all she was worth. Jenny charged across the stage and threw herself at her pole, without too much idea what she was meant to do with it when she got there.

Jenny mashed her breasts against the pole; licked it; hauled herself up and down it; skipped around it as if it were a Maypole; and generally acted the fool.

I think you could say that the red mist had come down on the naked teacher at this point. She was in a world of her own! Jenny just wanted to get the whole ghastly thing over with as quick as possible.

As a result, she wasn't really blending into the background very well! All round the club, people were scratching heads as they watched the spectacle on stage. Six skinny, perma-tanned pros, grinding away languidly. Plus the nude, white and curvy Head of Business Studies, absolutely freaking out.

Blokes were saying: "Look at the mad nympho on the end, with the big charleys and the hairy twat! Who let her in? My God, I could do with a piece of that!"

As the music stopped, Jenny was first off the mark. She simply galloped downstage. Sitting starkers on the edge of the stage, Jenny then made full use of what Dr Twatte had described as her "feminine wiles".

Which is to say that Jenny eased her legs apart; thrust her crotch forward; diddled with her clit; ran her tongue round her lips; batted her eye-lashes; shrugged her shoulders (this got her breasts wobbling wildly); leered at Table 6; and pointed to the gentlemen on that table one by one.

Jenny then made real heavy weather of lowering herself down off the three-foot stage! (Even though there was a perfectly adequate flight of steps at the side of the stage.)

First Jenny squatted cuntily on the edge of the stage, boobs heaving with 'fear' as she looked down at the sheer drop. Next, Jenny turned her back to the audience. She stuck out her big beautiful bare bottom; and splayed her thighs for the great climb down.

Then (oh dear!) she got stuck. Her sprawling legs scissored wildly, which 'unfortunately' left her hairy fanny gaping wide. Finally, with a mighty effort, Jenny collapsed to the ground. She naturally had to lie spread-eagled on the floor with her knees up, while she recovered her breath.

None the worse for her ordeal, though, Jenny scrambled to her feet, with her amazing breasts surging and billowing. A quick scratch of the cunt as she got her bearings. A wave to Bill Swett.

Then she barrelled towards Table 6 and leapt into a 'cow girl' position on Bill's lap. Table 6 greeted Jenny rather warmly!

As Jenny landed on Bill, she shoved her knockers into his face to shut him up. This gave her a moment to take stock of the situation.

The first thing that struck Jenny was what a small town Humpton was. Most of the blokes in the club were familiar. (Familiar, in every sense of the word, I'm sorry to say.) And she knew every single one of the four blokes on Table 6!

There was pervy Bill, of course, who'd now taken two great handfuls of Jenny's arse. On either side of Bill were his two drinking pals, Jerry Slugg and Arthur Slyme. What a sleazy pair of sex pests they'd been over the years. But worst of all, look who was sat behind Jenny and trying to peek at her anus. Stuart Little! The knobhead estate agent.

Several years ago, Jenny had had the poor judgement to go to the pics with Stuart. How he had drooled and groped in the darkness! On that occasion, Jenny had been able to deal with Stuart quite firmly, by 'accidentally' emptying her coffee into his lap. This time round, though, she'd have to be a bit 'friendlier'.

Word on the street was that Stuart Little's manhood was well described by his second name. Well, within a few minutes Jenny would unfortunately be the town authority on that question.

"Oh well, better get on with it", she thought. "This is a race I must win."

Not that the competition was that fierce right now. Her esteemed co-workers were ambling over to the tables of their 'choice'. But most of the punters on those tables were looking wistfully at the fun everyone was having on Table 6.

Jenny swivelled round on Bill's lap. (Unfortunately, this gave Bill the opportunity to stick a finger up Jenny's cunt.)

"Evening, gentlemen!" Jenny said. (Thanking God for the Catwoman mask.) "Nice to meet you. My name's Ms Gash. Errr.....Fanny Gash." That raised a laugh.

"Now, gentlemen - ooooohhhh!!" (To Bill.) "Careful with my cunt, sir! You don't know where it's been."

"Now, gentlemen, I like breaking the rules, don't you? So here's the deal – ooooohhhhh!!!!" (Bill's fingers again, and that actually felt quite nice. But he's groping Jenny's tits again, and it's holding her up.)

"Sorry, sir, I LOVE what you're doing, but it's spoiling the view for the other gentlemen. They want to see my bazookas too!"

So Jenny clambered off Bill, with a squelching pop. She stood beseechingly in front of the four blokes. Lips parted, arms spread wide, palms up, feet apart, knees slightly bent, vagina thrust forward. Clearly panting for a fuck.

Jenny hoped that she looked so arousing that they'd come in their drawers. Being stark naked certainly helped Jenny in her worthy aim. And the flushed faces of her audience showed how close she'd now taken them to the finishing line.

The four men gazed at 'Catwoman' in sheer bloody wonderment. Although the bottom half of the beautiful arch-criminal's face was vaguely familiar to them, the men all assumed they'd seen it in some hot video. Anyway, it was below the neck that they were really focussing!