Mr. Clancy's eyes opened wide.

"Oh, yes!" he cried. "Damn! Yes! Shit!" Then he came. His big cock spit out a high, arcing load of cum. The dream shot upward in big hot, thick jets.

"Oh, ohhhh! Ah! Jeeez!" Kelly gasped. She stood in sheer elegance, her little skirt held up, her fuzz-fucker pussy a little muffin of intrigue.

Her face registered excitement, fright, and amazement as Mr. Clancy jerked his prick and spewed thick wads of cum that flew as if they were in slow motion, spit high, then splattered on Kelly's bright, shiny saddle shoes.

"Oh, oh, ohhh! Ahhhhh!" cried Mr. Clancy.

Kelly looked up from his squirting prick and saw the look of pure pleasure on his manly face.

"Kelly! Kelly!" he moaned.

Kelly stood frozen in wonderment at the hot globs of jism that jetted from Mr. Clancy's spitting cock.

"You look so good!" he panted.

She kept her skirt up. She didn't know when she was supposed to let it down, and Mr. Clancy kept pumping, and the jizz kept flying.

He was hunched forward on his chair, beating his prick with short, hot chops. The copious cock-cream made a big puddle of thick juice at her feet.

"Ohhhh! Ahhhh, this feels good!" he sighed.

His hand was soaked with cum. Kelly trembled all over. Her pussy was all wet, splashing teenybopper cunt-juice into her white panties.

Mr. Clancy fell back in his chair, his cock dripping, his hand jizz-covered. He heaved a long, heavy sigh. Kelly dropped her skirt, unlocked the door, and fled down the hall.

She raced down the stairs to the girls' room, ran into a toilet stall, pulled her skirt up, tugged her panties down, and sat down on the cool, shiny-black stool. She slid out to the edge. Her legs were apart, her white panties a tight stretch of nylon just above her knees.