Goodbye, Miss Granger - Part 7 - Sex Stories

Goodbye, Miss Granger - Part 7

... and I could feel little trickles running down my neck and between my breasts, soaking into the bodice of my dress. Crap! I didn’t have anything else to wear and I’d be drenched after half an hour of this. As Craig was winding up for his final throw, I was trying to flick water off my neck and chest without much success. The fifth sponge was off target again, but I got sprayed and now that I was already wet, new trickles found their way down that much more easily and I shivered as a rivulet made it past my breasts and soaked in at my sternum. There was only one thing for it: off with the dress! I didn’t even think about it very long, I was in an enclosed room and nobody could see me. I could be stark naked for all they knew. Keeping my head still, I unzipped, slipped off the shoulder straps and shimmied it over my hips, letting it fall to the floor before I kicked it into what I hoped was a dry corner. “It’s time for a spot of revenge, I believe.” It was Mr Mitchell, dried off now and dressed in a fresh T-shirt. Why didn’t anyone tell me to bring dry clothes? “You make a lovely bride, Jeannie,” he called out. “I will take no joy from this.” “You’re a terrible liar, Mr Mitchell,” I teased. “I wasn’t lying about the first bit,” he laughed, picking up his first sponge. “Well then you’re terrible liar,” I shot back. “ And a lousy flatterer … OOOF!” He scored a direct hit with his first sponge. Sadly Mr Mitchell didn’t suffer the same lack of forethought as his students; he ...

... wasn’t trying to knock my head off with it, he just looped a lazy but accurate overarm throw straight at my face. “I beg your pardon, Jeannie,” he called out above the cheering of the boys. “I didn’t catch that last bit.” He was lining up with another sponge. “I was just saying how much all the kids will miss such a fine teacher as yourse- … URGH!” Another direct hit right on my nose. Now I had water streaming down my chest and over my stomach, wetting the lacy edge detail of my red panties. Knowing that my underwear was getting wet made me hyper-conscious of my position; I was standing almost naked before a growing group of teachers and students who were all looking at me. It felt amazing! Exciting! Just like when I was flirty-talking with Kevin on speaker phone that morning. I gently pinched my nipples and imagined a mysterious someone in the crowd who had x-ray vision. All the normal people could only see my head and the wedding dress, but Superman would know I was in my underwear. AND he’d be watching me touch myself, knowing my secret but telling no-one lest I stop and spoil his private show. Oh my goodness, there was more wetness in my panties now, and it wasn’t from the sponges! “Hey, not fair,” I complained, Mr Mitchell was picking up another sponge. “I only threw two!” “Sorry Jeannie,” he apologised, not sounding the slightest bit sorry. “I only had a fiver and they wouldn’t make change.” “Betcha can’t hit me left handed,” I challenged. My nipples were fairly buzzing now ...