Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, mt/ft, Fiction,
Desc: Sex Story: Chapter 1 - The intra-school chess competition was an innovation the Principal approved of. He wouldn't have approved of the stakes though. Half of the pieces were girls; and as the saying goes 'to the victor, the spoils'
The game was played on two levels. The level of school competition brought The Geeks vs The Sportos into the open; a chance for the Sporty Types to show they were as clever and strategic as anybody, and a chance for The Swotty Types to show they could wipe the floor with these popular types.
But there was an underlying level too, one that the teams and the captains were sure must never come out; but one that made winning more than essential to the two players.
The two players stared at their pieces, made mental calculations and re-stared. It was more difficult than on a board. In fact one had thought about this and brought a small board and had the pieces arranged on it. The other had brought a step-ladder and was on the top looking down across the field of play. A tall, muscular boy, he stood near the top of the ladder, not holding on, his muscles honed to provide good balance, he had no need to check himself from falling. Opposite, at the other end of the field a thinner, bespectacled boy, with a sleeveless sweater as if it might be cold (which it was not) was looking intently at the board on a small table. His eyes were partially hidden by his glasses, but they carried an intensity and concentration that showed the intelligence behind them; he was rapidly running through scenarios and possibilities.
A layman might have assumed this skinny lad with his intense stare was sure to win at something as cerebral as chess, but a chess player would have looked at the board and realised he was on the back foot, on the defensive.
It had started after the disastrous inter-school competitions that year. Sport after sport had been won by Manderville High: football (54:10), ice hockey (6:3), basketball (111:32 – oh the shame!), even in baseball they had been wiped-out. Athletics was the same, Gore Vidal High had won virtually none of the field or track events. The final insult came when the Math club had managed to scrape a win against Manderville - in the Matholympiad. That was really worse! The geeky, specky, little spineless insects had won where all the muscle-bound sporty types with sport scholarships waiting to fall into their laps had managed to fuck up at everything. It was insulting and demeaning. It wasn’t like they were especially bad; they had won against everybody else. It just seemed that Manderville had got the measure of them every time.
“FUUUUCCCCKKKK!!!!!” said football and athletics captain John T. Jones. The ‘T’ was a bit of an affectation, he felt that John Jones sounded a bit common. His parents were rich fuckers, but lacked much imagination, so, since his middle name was actually Thomas, he opted to use the ‘T’ to give himself a better handle. He was lying on the floor of the car totally wasted, he was taking it hard.
“Come on Johnny, it isn’t so bad” said Mandy Macaroni; his girl friend. She nearly said “It’s only a game” but she’d only make that mistake once. Mandy had the blackest hair in the world, black as night, black as shiny soot in a dark night with no stars. She also had an impressive and entirely natural bust (even the teachers weren’t above watching that rise and fall when she deigned to do sport – which was rarely. She had an impressive array of aches, pains and doctors’ notes; but seemed to be able to dance all night when the mood took her). And to round off the ensemble she had a butt that kind of drew your gaze as it moved away from you. It wasn’t big like some black booty, neither was it bony and non-existent like some of the blonde bimbo set; it was just ... well it was just fucking perfect. Truth was, she was a bit sick of this self-obsessed, child-man; but then he was the senior jock in the school, so she put up with his mood swings and drunken binges as she got a lot of respect by being his girl. She bent down and kissed him. He put his hand up her skirt. She giggled and said “No, Johnny, not here”
“I’ve told you before; don’t CALL ME JOHNNY!” Actually she did it deliberately sometimes to twist his little ego a bit. She was not as dumb as her public persona made out.