Sloan hurried through the hallway, pressed for time, hating the fact that her 3rd and 4th periods were on opposite ends of the school. With only three minutes between classes she barely had enough time to stop at her locker. With two tardies already this year, she couldn't afford to be late again. Three tardies meant detention after school, which would cause her to miss cheerleader practice. That was not an option. As a senior, Sloan was Captain of the cheerleading squad and the other girls depended on her presence.
"Shit!" Sloan cursed as she reached her locker. The handle was jammed shut again. She pulled and tugged and hit her locker door, to no avail. This had happened before, just a week before on Sloan's eighteenth birthday. "That worthless janitor was supposed to have fixed this!"
No longer caring that she would be late, Sloan gave up on her locker and stormed down the hall towards the custodial area. Several boys noticed her stalking by in her short skirt and high white socks. The boys always noticed her tan legs, toned from cheerleading, but Sloan was too angry to notice.
"Mr. Anderson?" Sloan called in an annoyed tone, looking around a garage-like area the custodial staff used as a shop. She grimaced at the grease and dirt, making a mental note not to touch anything which would soil her favorite white blouse. "Mr. Anderson, are you here? My damned locker is jammed again and I'm late for English!"
Hearing something from one of the back offices, Sloan marched that way and pushed open the door. Her surprise was complete at the sight that assaulted her. Mr. Anderson was sitting in his grimy office, pants around his ankles, and jerking off to one of those girly calendars mechanics always seemed to have.
"Oh my god! What the fuck are you doing?" Sloan asked, revolted.
"Jesus Christ, don't you kids ever knock?" Mr. Anderson said, more annoyed than embarrassed.
Sloan stood in the doorway and stared at Mr. Anderson's appearance. She guessed he was in his fifties, with balding and stringy hair. His filth-stained hand gripped a sizable cock, and she noted he had fat bloated balls filled with curly pubes that resembled steel wool. "That's totally gross! My locker is jammed shut again and you're in here beating your meat?!"
Mr. Anderson offered a toothy grin, "Maybe you want to lend a hand? The sooner I finish the sooner I can fix your locker." He had always fancied Sloan, the way she always wore those prissy skirts and tight tops. Mr. Anderson had long thought she was the hottest girl at the school.
"Are you kidding me? I'm going to the principal, you fucking pervert."
"I'll give you fifty bucks for a hand job." Mr. Anderson countered.
A light went off in Sloan's head. Fifty bucks would go a long way towards a new pair of shoes. She looked at his greasy cock again and considered. It's not like she hadn't given a hand job before. As a virgin, it was an easy way to satisfy all the horny boys when they wanted to get into Sloan's panties. It was a necessary chore, she had always thought, to maintain the boy's interest. Sure Mr. Anderson was old and dirty, but could it be so bad?
"Make it a hundred." Sloan suddenly said, "And you fix my locker right after!"
Digging in his wallet, Mr. Anderson pulled out a C-note and put it on his desk. "For a hundred, I want to see your tits while you do it."
Sloan let out a disgusted sigh, "Fine." She opened the buttons of her tight white blouse and opened it up, unclasping her bra to reveal a pair of smallish teenage breasts. Sloan was barely a B-cup, but she had perky little pink nipples that were perfect little female decorations. "But no touching! If you touch me I'll get you fired and charged with rape."
Sloan grimaced as she knelt down on the grimy floor between the janitor's legs. She leaned over his crotch and spit out some saliva onto the head of his erection, brushing a few strands of her blonde hair behind the ear before gripping him in her hand.
Mr. Anderson let out a throaty groan as Sloan started with the head of his cock and smeared her spit all along his hard shaft. "I can't believe I'm doing this." she said.
With a chuckle, Mr. Anderson said "I can't believe it either. You're such a hot little slut. Stroke my cock, slut, jerk me off."
Sloan circled her fingers, careful not to damage her false nails, and began slowly pumping her fist up and down Mr. Anderson's dick. She did feel like a slut, handling this dirty old man, and it kind of turned Sloan on despite herself She didn't mind his dirty talk. Perhaps more would help speed this along.
"You're a dirty old man, Mr. Anderson, paying for a hand job from a sexy little slut like me. Do you like my hot little titties?"
Mr. Anderson moaned and nodded, staring at Sloan's pretty little breasts. They were white and perfect, surrounded by tan lines from Sloan's bikini. The small office was filled with the sounds of Sloan's attentions, the slick noise of her masturbating hand, and the animalistic grunts of the horny janitor.
"Look at your greasy balls, all puffy with your filthy cum." Sloan said as she took his sac into her free hand and squeezed them, teasing Mr. Anderson with tickling scrapes of her painted nails. "I bet you want to shoot it all over my tits, don't you?"
Continuing, Sloan circled and rubbed her palm around Mr. Anderson's shaft, flicking her thumb on the soft underside cleft of his cock head. "You're a naughty old man, Mr. Anderson. Show me how naughty you are and shoot your hot cum out onto my tits."
"You got a magic hand, you filthy little whore." Mr. Anderson rasped before his hips started bucking.
"Do it!" Sloan urged, "Shoot your cum all over my young body."
Mr. Anderson's cock inflated in Sloan's hand, then began pulsing in orgasm. A blast of thick hot sperm landed with a splat onto her chest, then another which landed right on her breast. The rest leaked out in several gurgling dollops onto Sloan's hand and wrist.
"Oh god, you got it all over me. Jesus Mr. Anderson, I didn't know an old guy could have such a big load!"
Sloan could smell the sex, the scent of Mr. Anderson's sperm filling the air. It was strangely exhilarating and intoxicating. She felt thrilled with the power of making this old man orgasm, and it wasn't so bad - certainly the easiest hundred bucks she ever made.
Mr. Anderson handed her a dirty rag and the hundred dollar bill. "Best hand job I ever got, girl. We should do this again. I got a lot of friends, I think they'd like you too."