Mr Welling has totally transformed from the studious teacher you know him as, to another athletic young hunk at the gym. he pulls the sweat-band over his head, having no idea that his tiny student lies tangled in the facric, and flicks his thick hair casually over the front.
Welling pulls on his running shoes and muscle shirt, sprints up the stairs to the cardio area and jumps on a treadmill. As his herat-rate clims higher, the oils from your giant teacher's skin ooze out of his pores and smear all over you. The intimate smell of the man's skin covers you, as his hair, once smelling of fragrant shampoo, becomes slick with sweat. In all the hours you spent sitting in class, watching Mr Welling stride back and forth in front of the board, you never woulkd have imagined that you'd one day end up pinned under his tight sweat-band, soaking up your favourite teacher's masses of perspiration as he panted on the treadmill, dripping with sweat.
Now the thick beads are starting to slide into your mouth, and you gulp them down, feeling feverishly hot with the heat of the giant's skin. You're positively swimming in his sweat, guzzling the thick, salty fluid as it pours from his back and pits.. You think you can feel yourself slipping out! As your unaware giant increases the speed of the equipment yet again, the rubber of his shoes pounding against the belt, you slip out and wind up..
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