Part 48: California Girls

Day 58: Tuesday, November 12

Chapter 1

Alan knew that Heather was going to be trouble pretty much from the minute he arrived at school. As he was walking alone across a field to get to his locker and then his first-period class, she swung into step alongside him and asked point blank, "So, where's my reward? Am I going to get my reward today?"

He knew exactly what she meant: she felt like he needed to fuck her right away as a reward for her passing her STD test and giving him the results so quickly. But he played dumb, asking, "What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean. My reward. My fucking reward. Literally!" She stopped, forcing him to stop too. "Look around. There's no one within 50 yards of us, so I'm going to talk frankly. You gave me three demands. I fulfilled them all, right away. I even went to great lengths to secure a private room right here at school. So are we gonna use it today, or what?"

"Lunch? I'm busy." While he thought about adding to his response, he gave her a good looking over. She was wearing a black miniskirt and a short, tight top that showed off her belly button and lots of cleavage. It was just shy of being scandalous, and not for the first time he wondered how she got away with wearing such outfits at school.

He said, "I've gotta speak to Ms. Rhymer about a few things, and I've got to do more of that special painting task."

"Pussy painting."

He slapped his forehead. "Could you be a little more discreet? Sheesh. You never know who could be listening in a place like this." He resumed walking. "Anyway, lunch is out. I'm busy after school too. Maybe tomorrow."

She hurried to catch up to him. "'Maybe tomorrow?' What kind of fucking ingrate are you? I did all that for you, and I even paid extra to get the test results back immediately, and you blow me off like that? Who do you think I am? And even more to the point, who the fuck do you think you are?"

"Sorry." He again was distracted by her sexy clothes. Is she wearing a bra? Hard to tell. But dang, her boobs sure are bouncing around freely when she walks! He attempted to focus and follow Suzanne's advice about playing hard to get with Heather. "Look. It's cool, the things you did. And getting the room. Cool. But the whole world doesn't stop rotating on its axis just so you can get what you want right away. Things take time. Lots of other things are going on. I said tomorrow, maybe."

"MAYBE?!"

He shrugged. He wondered if he was overdoing it by acting so indifferent. The prospect of fucking her sounded really, really good, and he had to admit that she did deserve some kind of reward.

Heather stopped and huffed, letting him walk ahead. Fucking ... fucker! I hate him! Who does he think he is, treating ME like that? I oughta crush him like a grape, just to remind him who he's dealing with. I'm so fucking MAD!

She stomped her foot in the grass several times, venting her frustration. But then she told herself, No. Don't get mad; get even. Which in this case means I'm gonna get royally fucked! Where there's a will, there's a way. That's what I always say.

She put on her thinking cap and started to scheme on how to get what she wanted, today - none of this "tomorrow" crap.

When Alan sat down in his first-period class, in his regular seat at the front of the room, Christine was standing by the desk next to his, as usual. There were still a few minutes before the bell rang.

His first thought upon seeing her was, The fates or the gods must really like me. Dang! Today must be my lucky day, again! It's a Wonder Woman T-shirt day!

Sure enough, Christine was wearing her Wonder Woman T-shirt. Alan liked it because it was the most revealing thing she wore at school. She had worn and washed it so frequently that he could see the outline of her bra when the lighting was just right. It also fit her really snugly, unlike most of her clothing which was far more concealing, allowing him to appreciate the size and shape of her fantastic breasts.

What he didn't realize was that she had long noticed his extra interest whenever she wore that particular T-shirt. After their beach trip the day before and their most recent practice date, her desire to capture his interest had escalated markedly. Thus her wearing that shirt the next day was hardly a coincidence.

He didn't comment about the shirt, since he didn't want to deter her from wearing it often. Instead, they just made small talk as they waited for the other students to file in.

Naturally, their beach trip of the day before was on both their minds. Alan started things off by saying, "Hey, I just wanted to say I had a really nice time with you at the beach yesterday."

"Me too," she replied happily. "Since then, I've been thinking about what you said: about how I'm too driven."

"Hold on. I never said that. I think it's great that you're so driven. You seriously inspire me to try harder myself. I was just making the point that it's good to sometimes take the time to 'waste time' as well. Happiness is a good thing in and of itself, and it prevents you from burning out."

She nodded. "I agree completely. I need to spend more time on my social life. Luckily, I have you to help me out."

He made a playful little bow in his seat. "At your service, my lady."

She smiled widely at that. "So ... when are we going to go to the beach again?"

"Again?" That surprised him.

"Sure. After all, I did kind of promise you I'd wear a bikini, and I chickened out on that. So I'm definitely going to have to wear one next time. I guess I'll have to go out and buy a new one, to be fashionable. Or maybe something more exotic. Any suggestions?"

He was temporarily speechless as he pictured Christine in a sexy, revealing bikini. Then her "something more exotic" comment registered fully and his imagination went into overdrive. He thought back to Susan's slingshot-styled bathing suit when she'd role-played being Christine a day earlier, and then he pictured the real Christine in that same suit. Since it was his fantasy, he inflated her breasts to an even larger, Brenda-esque size. He stared into space with wide eyes.

Christine was so delighted by his wowed expression that she had to suppress the urge to chuckle out loud. She teased, "Someone seems to like the bikini idea!"

"Too much!" he exclaimed quietly.

That was actually more accurate than she realized. He had resolved to keep their relationship platonic, and seeing her at the beach in a bikini would be a severe test of his willpower, especially after the way they'd gotten so touchy-feely applying suntan lotion on each other their prior time at the beach. He made a snap decision to avoid another beach trip with her, at least for the time being, so as to not put himself in such a risky situation.

Sensing that their limited time before the bell was running out, she abruptly switched topics so she could discuss something that was nagging at her. "So. I saw you talking to Heather in the hall recently. And then today, just a few minutes ago, I saw you talking to her again. Are you becoming friends with her or something?"

He scoffed, "Hardly."

He sighed inwardly. Jesus H. Christ. Christine is like a bloodhound. She sniffs out everything. What am I gonna tell her?

Christine asked, "She seemed kind of upset about something. What was that all about?"

He thought quickly. "Yeah. I know this isn't exactly going to shock you, but she can be a real bitch sometimes. All of a sudden she wants my help to do a bunch of volunteer stuff for the cheerleading squad. She acts like it's my responsibility just because my sister's on the squad. She's just looking for suckers. I told her 'No', and she's not too happy about that."

That satisfied Christine, since it fit in so well with her understanding of Heather's personality. She even smiled to hear that he was standing up to Heather. Then the bell rang, cutting off any further questions she might have had, giving her only time to say, "Good luck dealing with her."

Chapter 2

Alan thought he might be out of the woods with Heather, at least for a while. But as soon as he reached his second-period classroom, Heather was there to intercept him, before he could even get through the door.

Christine happened to be with him, since they walked to most of their classes together. Alan just sighed and gave her a look, as if to say, "Heather won't stop or leave me alone."

Christine gave him a sympathetic nod of understanding and walked on into the classroom. Yet she lingered by the door so she could still hear him when he asked Heather in an exasperated tone, "What now?"

Heather was no fool; she certainly didn't want Christine snooping around and eavesdropping on her business. Once Christine was out of hearing range and out of sight, Heather said quietly, "Come with me."

Alan stood his ground. "I'm not just coming with you. Tell me what this is about first."

"Come with me," she insisted. "Trust me."

Sighing, he started to follow her through the hallway crowd. He muttered to himself, "Trust me." Yeah, right. I'd trust her as far as I can throw her. She's up to something, for sure. I'll bet it has to do with her so-called "reward." Which I never promised, even if she seems to think I somehow did.

It soon became clear to him that they were heading to the theater room. It was out of the way, in a little-used part of the school, so there was no other reason to be headed in that direction.

Heather walked ahead with a purpose. Her very revealing miniskirt showed more leg than even the skirt of the cheerleader uniform. She was determined to get Alan to fuck her today, and her clothes were a part of that plan. She walked in front of him, swaying from side to side, knowing full well that his eyes would be glued to her undulating ass and smartly stepping legs.

She was right about that. He was annoyed at his response. He didn't want to get aroused, but his dick couldn't help but rise in response to the sight of Heather's fantastic, firm ass, and her tanned, muscular legs strutting right in front of him. Despite himself, and as she'd planned, he couldn't stop thinking about how good it would feel to spread her fantastic tanned legs and drill her hard.

Alan didn't wear a watch, but he had a good sense of the time between classes from having lived with that five-minute inter-class interval for so many years. As they walked further from the main school building, he said, "We might as well stop here. I've got like a minute at best before I have to head back to class. So say your spiel and fast, since this is private enough for whatever it is you've got to say to me."

She just kept on walking. "Trust me. I'm not going to make you late. Trust me."

He groused, "Would you stop saying that? I know you're taking me to the theater room, but I don't have time to go in there."

But Heather still kept walking. They were almost to the theater room, and her first goal was simply to get him inside by any means necessary. Once he was alone in there with her, she was sure she'd get the vigorous fucking she so craved.

Alan was just as determined not to go into that room. Although it was hard to resist the chance to fuck her luscious, hard body, he didn't want her to conclude that she could manipulate him so easily. So when they reached the door to the theater room, he stopped and said, "Don't bother opening the door. I'm not going in. Not until you tell me what this is all about. Actually, there's no time. I need to turn around right now if I'm going to get to class on time." He started to turn back.

Heather put a hand on his shoulder to restrain him. "Wait! That's not an issue. I got you a pass." She pulled a scrap of paper out of a hidden pocket that her clothing had concealed and handed it to him.

He looked at it. Sure enough, it was a pass excusing him for the entire second period. He held it up and complained, "How did you get this?"

She gloated, "It's all about who you know and making a good impression. I can get as many of these as I like. Blanks."

He started to turn around again. "That's nice. But I've got a class to go to. I'm probably already gonna be late."

"Don't bother. I spoke to your teacher; that's why I was coming out of your classroom when you were heading in. Everything's arranged, and if you try to mess it up, you'll open up a can of worms for yourself."

Alan was steamed by that. He crumpled the pass in his hand and shook his fist. "Heather! You're such a fucking BITCH! I didn't want you to do that!"

"Why not? You're telling me that you'd rather sit in some boring class than have some of this?" She raised the hem of her miniskirt, exposing her pussy to his gaze.

He was astounded that she wasn't wearing any panties. Despite his anger, his dick was suddenly ramrod stiff. No matter how he felt about her personally, his sudden erection wasn't about to go down anytime soon after that little display. But he tried to ignore that part of his body. "Yes! Yes, I would. For one thing, I LIKE school. I like learning. I wanna be somebody someday, and that means I have to do well at school. Even if I could get a bunch of blank passes, like you have, I wouldn't use them."

He continued, building a full head of steam. "Furthermore, I really resent YOU pushing me around! Who gave you the right to decide I wasn't going to that class today? You think you're so great, but you're just a ... a pile of dog shit, as far as I'm concerned! That was a rotten move. You think I'm gonna give you your reward today? HA! I wouldn't fuck your skanky cunt today if you were the last girl on Earth, not after that stunt!"

She appeared contrite. "Look. I'm sorry. But I checked with your teacher, Mister What's-His-Name, and you're not doing anything important today anyway." She put a hand on the door handle. "But we don't want to make a scene out here. Come inside and we'll talk about it."

"Yeah, right! You'd like that, wouldn't you? You're like a spider trying to lead me into your web. There's no way in Hell you're gonna get me in there! And just look at you!"

He took a step closer, so he was in her personal space. "Good grief, look at your slutty clothes. How do you get away with dressing like this?" He ran a hand over her top and her miniskirt. He was trying not to touch her privates, but it was difficult because her clothes didn't cover much else.

"And look at this slutty body. You think you can get anyone to do what you want just because you're a stone fox. Well, I have news for you. You're not all that. You're not so great."

He ran his hand up to her rack and gave her left tit an aggressive squeeze. "Like these tits. Fake! All fake. Just like the rest of you!"

She protested, "Now, hold on. For one thing, my breasts are only slightly augmented."

Before she could say more, he shouted, "Shut up! Slut, I'm really pissed at you. Don't you get that?! How could anyone who looks this good on the outside be so mean and ugly on the inside?" He was just as horny as he was mad, so even as he talked his hand continued to wander all over her body.

In fact, he brought his other hand into play, using it to flip up her skirt, briefly exposing her pussy again before the skirt fell back into place. He ran his fingers up and down her wet labia. "And look at you. No panties. Are you even wearing a bra?"

She didn't answer, but just stood there stone-faced.

So he pulled her top up, all the way to her underarms, leaving her tits completely exposed. "A-ha! You're not! I should have known! You're such a fucking slut!"

She could sense that his lust was getting the better of him, even though he didn't seem to realize it himself just yet. His examination of her body was turning increasingly sexual, and she wanted to further that along. So she took the hand that had checked her labia and brought it back to her pussy. Her tight miniskirt remained hiked up a few inches above her clit, so she pulled his fingers to her slit.

She purred, "I am! I'm a slut; I admit it! Feel how wet I am for you."

He poked two fingers into her gash, probing around inside. Meanwhile, his other hand migrated from her boobs down to her ass. He kneaded her ass cheeks, causing her miniskirt to raise up in back as well.

She knew better than he did how his lust was ramping out of control, and she knew she'd have him if she could distract him from coming to his senses for just a little longer. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him in close. But she was careful not to do anything too startling, such as grabbing his boner, which might make him realize fully where his "examination" was going.

He continued to complain loudly, "You're soaked! And you smell like raw sex. Don't you have any shame? Any self-respect? Look at you. I've got you half-naked out in public, in school, and you're not even blushing!"

She spoke in a sexy purr while running her hands all over his chest. "That's because you've got me so horny. How can I even think, when you're digging into my cunt like that? Alan, I was wrong! Thinking of you as a mere nerd. You're a stud!"

She took a step back, but she was careful not to disengage from the hands that were still fondling her ass and pussy. "I have no shame being half-naked. In fact, the problem is that I'm not completely naked!" She unzipped her miniskirt and let it fall to the ground. Then she did the same to her top.

"SLUT!" Alan roared. "Fucking slut bitch!" Wrapping an arm around her backside, he pulled her in close for a nuclear kiss. His other hand kept on aggressively pumping her cunt.

As their tongues dueled for the first time that day, he started to think about where things were headed. What am I doing?! She's hoodwinked me again. I'm seriously pissed, but somehow I'm overwhelmingly horny too. I just can't help myself. Good God, she's got such a fucking hot body!

Look what we're doing, standing out here in plain sight. It's like I can't stop fingering her tight cunt! This is exactly like what happened in the parking lot last time! Although I've gotta admit it's not nearly so dangerous, because nobody ever comes around here, especially during classes. Maybe some janitor might stumble by...

Wait. Classes ... Oh my God! Classes?! I should be in class right now. She tricked me, again! Motherfucking BITCH!

As if it wasn't obvious enough that things had spun out of control, he suddenly realized that she had a hand inside his shorts that was vigorously jacking him off.

He thought, Fuck me! I can't help myself! I should get her to stop, but it's like my body is on autopilot. I just can't stop squeezing this juicy ass or pumping her hot cunt! But I'm not gonna let her win. I'm not gonna go into that damn theater room, or fuck her, 'cos that what she wants.

He knew his resolve on that was rather weak, since she clearly was already manipulating him successfully. Her erotic moaning not only showed how pleased she was; it also helped raise the fire of his lust until it was a raging inferno. He was already out of control, and he finally realized it.

He stood by helplessly as she pulled his shorts down his thighs to get better access to his cock and balls. Now that she knew she had him where she wanted him, she no longer kept an arm around his backside to hold him in place. Instead, her hands went straight for his cock. She pumped and teased with all ten digits to make sure he stayed too horny to resist her advances. She was almost certain that in just a matter of seconds she would be lying on a prop couch in the theater room getting royally fucked.

She thought, So fucking hot! Alan is a moron. He'd rather be in class than doing this? I love how he's pumping my cunt! I love it! Doing it out here in the open, it's almost as good as getting seriously fucked! Which is just about to happen, incidentally. HA! And he can't resist my ass, my perfect ass. Nobody can! Even a tit-fiend like him can't let go long enough to play with my tits!

I love it that he's got me buck naked. He doesn't care! He's nothing like limp-dicked Rock. Rock would never allow this, the chicken-shit loser! I'm with a REAL man now, so go suck your own balls, Rock!

Alan's heart was pounding unbelievably hard. He felt like he was Dr. Bruce Banner turning into the Incredible Hulk, but Alan was becoming super horny rather than super strong. He wasn't simply kissing Heather's lips; he was so passionate that she was forgetting to breathe. That left her gasping for oxygen, but his kissing felt so awesome that she couldn't stop to catch her breath. And he was no longer just fingering her pussy: her hips were gyrating around while she was bouncing up and down on her heels, basically fucking herself on his hand. By this time her cum was flowing down his wrist and dripping onto the floor.

After another minute or two, Heather knew that if they kept it up much longer, she'd cum hard. There was no problem with that except that she wanted him in the theater room. Cumming could complicate that, because she doubted she'd be able to remain standing afterwards, much less capable of dragging him along. So even though it was very difficult to pause, she managed to disengage. Then she reached for her discarded clothes to retrieve the theater room's key.

Alan was so far gone that he was seeing the world through a pulsing red haze. He felt virile enough to punch his fist through a wall or even lift a car, or so he thought. Needless to say, he wanted more - a lot more - but he found himself simply standing there. He asked, bewildered, "What are you doing?"

She said while wiggling her bare ass at him, "Just a sec. I've gotta open the door."

That reignited his anger. "Oh, no you don't! I am NOT going in that room!"

She just chuckled at that as she fumbled for the key.

That only infuriated him more. He suddenly grabbed her bare hips with both hands and yanked her backward to the ground, letting go of her as she fell.

She landed hard on her ass. "Owww! That hurt! Why'd you do that?" She sat up with a hurt, offended expression.

He made fists in the air. He found it hard to talk, he was panting so hard. "Listen! I'm ... I'm not gonna ... Not gonna fall for that. I told you, no fucking today! Won't ... let you ... win!"

"Oh, really?" She loved a good challenge. She hadn't really been hurt by the fall, so she flashed him a sultry look while spreading her legs wide. Then she pulled her pussy lips open with her fingers, causing yet more of her juices to gush forth. Her voice was husky and almost feral. "Want some of this?"

The pheromones in her copious lube were overwhelming. He raged, "You know I do, but I'm gonna fuck your face instead!" He held his erection straight out. "Open your mouth and say 'Aaaah."

They were in a standoff. She wanted to get fucked. If not in the theater room, she was willing to get pounded right where she sat. She didn't care about the exposed location because she felt she was invulnerable. Besides, she never got caught. Although the hard floor would be more than a little uncomfortable, her fuck need drove her on.

However, Alan just stood there above her, glowering and offering his hard-on expectantly. Clearly, he wasn't about to move. His unusually engorged cock, pulsing red with his anger and need, was calling to her like a siren song. She reminded herself that she hated blowjobs, but she found his defiant pose strangely irresistible.

Chapter 3

The moment dragged on. All was silent but for the sound of distant activity. Neither of them seemed willing to budge. Then, in a flash, Heather was up on her knees with his cock in her hand. She looked up and said with spitting resentment, "Fucking BASTARD!" Then she opened her jaw widely and engulfed his erection as deep as she could manage.

He didn't waste time, not even to briefly savor the moment. He had a need to fuck her face like he had a need to breathe, and he wasn't going to be delicate or considerate about it. He held the sides of her head and immediately started fucking her mouth just like it was a cunt.

Happily for him, she seemed to be as into it as he was. She didn't just sit there and let him use her; she did her best to suck tightly on his rod even though that was no easy task, due to how fast his shaft was sliding past her lips.

Thanks mostly to Suzanne's advice, Alan understood that when it came to Heather, the best defense was a good offense. But what he still didn't fully realize was how strongly she reacted on a sexual level to aggressiveness. Something snapped inside her when she saw him towering above her, presenting his cock and demanding that she suck it. She forgot all about luring him into the theater room to get fucked, instead devoting all her energy to sucking his cock as best she could.

As it happened, there wasn't much she could do other than hold on for dear life. The minutes passed, but his anger at her presumption didn't lessen, so his energy didn't fade either. He just kept on fucking her face like he was pounding quickly into a tight cunt.

He was so vigorous that she had to be careful not to choke or gag. In his lust-frenzy, he wasn't paying attention to how deeply he was penetrating her mouth. And with his hands tightly holding the sides of her head, she had little ability to control what he was doing. He repeatedly thrust so deeply that he triggered her gag reflex. She had no deep throating ability, let alone any meaningful previous experience with cocksucking, so she had to concentrate with all her might on breathing and not gagging.

But the more she struggled, the more she loved it. This was a man who just didn't give a fuck, who was using her like the "cum dump" he'd called her in their past encounters. That turned her on so much that even as she was barely coping with gagging and breathing, she wished she could swallow him down to the root because she loved his cock so very much.

Merely getting enough air was a problem for him too. He felt like he was running a race, even though in reality he was standing still. As a result, he wasn't able to say much. But his anger was such that every now and then he would shout out short phrases like "Take it!" or "Fuckin' bitch!", or mean things like "You cunt!" or "Slut trash!" But he wasn't doing those things because he knew she liked it; it was because his conscious control over his thoughts and his mouth had disappeared so completely that he was just spouting whatever happened to pop into his head.

Even so, Heather responded just as enthusiastically as she had previously. She found herself thinking, I am a cunt! His cunt! Two, actually, 'cos he's fucking my mouth-cunt! FUCK ME!

But, like Alan, she was so far gone that she was focused on the moment, unable to think much. And, like him, even though all the action seemed to be concentrated in one spot, she felt like her entire body was on fire. She wouldn't have been surprised to find that her skin was red as if from a bad sunburn, because that's how hot she felt all over. She tingled so much everywhere that it seemed her entire body was one huge erogenous zone.

After a few minutes of such frantic thrusting, Alan began to run out of steam. He was still fully engaged mentally, but he simply couldn't maintain that pace for long, just as one couldn't sprint for an entire mile.

However, Heather didn't mind his slowing down, because that allowed her to speed up her effort. Up to that point, her head had been held in place by his hands. But as his fucking flagged, she started lunging her head back and forth, carrying his hands along with her head. As a result, his pole slid back and forth in her lips just as fast as before, but now her blonde ponytail was flying around wildly from her own movements.

As time passed, he was forced to focus more and more on his struggle not to cum. He had to rhythmically flex his PC muscle continuously, which wasn't easy. It was much like fighting a desperate urge to pee. He was so close to the edge that sometimes he squirted out a little real cum and not just pre-cum. Although his struggle wasn't pleasant, the pleasure he was feeling from Heather's sliding lips more than made up for it. He absolutely hated to cum, especially during a great time like this, because he knew that would cause all the pleasure to suddenly end.

As a result, his back-and-forth thrusting finally came to a stop. But Heather had been making up the difference for quite a while, so when he stopped she went all out, picking up the slack, bobbing frantically to keep her "face fuck" feeling going. She too was getting tired, but she felt compelled to pleasure Alan's cock the best she could.