Goodbye, Miss Granger - Part 7 - Sex Stories

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Goodbye, Miss Granger - Part 7

Date: 9/23/2015, Categories: Cuckold, Author: blin18, Rating: 4, Source: LushStories

full circle a-la that creepy little girl in The Exorcist . “Blarrrrgggg!” When I rotated back into view, I lolled out my tongue and rolled my eyes up into my head. A few girls yelled “Eeewww!” and there were a couple of shutter-noises from camera phones along with some polite laughter. Maybe Dad was right; there really was no future for me in vaudeville. “Stop stalling Miss Granger!” somebody yelled. “Wait,” I called back. “Somebody take a photo. I want to see the dress.” About ten phones appeared but one kid walked straight up with a photo from my Exorcist gag. Oh God, between the rolled eyes and the hideous dress, I looked like the Bride of Frankenstein. But otherwise it actually looked quite realistic with my head perched on the wedding dress and the shoulders of the painted clown. The only thing spoiling the image was my hair, which was hanging down through the hole. I quickly wound it into a loose bun and positioned the foam batts around my neck to cover the hole and pronounced myself ready. “Okay, batter up!” I called happily, ready to wind up the small crowd. “Me first!” someone called, and stepping forward I saw it was Craig Wellman, class clown. “Better get five-bucks worth, Craig, if you throw anything like you do Integral Calculus,” I teased him. “Keep laughing, Miss Granger,” he grinned. And then to the parent helper, “Five bucks, thanks,” as he handed over his money. “This one’s for Calculus, Miss Granger!” he yelled happily, winding up with a wet sponge and ... letting loose a powerful but wild throw that splattered against the wall two feet from my face. “Better make the next one for quadratics, Craig,” I called back. “You know that parabolas describe the path of a thrown object, right?” “Why weren’t you ever this funny in class, Miss Granger?” he yelled, winding up again with another furious throw that sailed low. The spray coming off it was on target though, so I did get a little wet. “There’s only room for one clown in class, Craig,” I teased. “And the job was already taken. Say, do you want me to keep talking so you can aim for my voice? Where did you leave your guide-dog, anyway?” Splat! The next sponge hit high, but not by much, and I got another face-full of spray that did little to dampen my humour. “Maybe try underarm, Craig,” I tossed out my next barb. “Leave the over-arm throws for the big kids.” It was a bit disingenuous, after all I’d been throwing under-arm earlier. “Deep breath, Miss Granger,” Craig called with a grin. He hurled the next sponge truly and it hit with a wet splat square between my eyes. The small crowd erupted, led by Craig Wellman in a victory dance every bit as unsporting as the one I’d performed earlier. “Arrghhh!” I cried out, shocked by the sudden wet contact, blinking water from my eyes and blowing drips from my nose. “Eeek, it’s dripping down my neck!” This drove Craig and the rest of the gawkers to even greater heights of celebration. The foam batts around my neck were a long way from waterproof ...