Chapter 7

Wednesday pm - Ryan

Holy Shit. The busted chair was the talk of the school. If she could do that do an oak chair, I sure as hell didn't want to be on the wrong end of an argument with her. But she sure gave a nice beaver shot when she lifted her leg up in the air. Nice little split peach with just a little peach fuzz. I sure wanted some of that particular fruit.

Anyway, by noontime I was about done with Becky holding my cock - that's something I never thought I'd say - but she was getting in the way of other girls! And she was getting an attitude about it too. I pulled her aside in the hallway.

"Becky," I said in the most courteous way I could think of, "you have to let go of me SOMEtime." Her hand was kinda warm and soft. She kept me hard too: every time I'd get a little wilty, she'd squeeze it or stroke it or some-damn-thing. I couldn't be hard all the time!!

"Why?" She looked at my face and seemed genuinely puzzled.

"Um. Cause ... uh ... Cause this is supposed to be my NIS week and I'm supposed to be exploring with the student body and stuff." Meaning, I was supposed to get it from all the girls.

"Tell me. Have you been getting blowjobs from all the girls? Are you bored with the little schedule I've set up for you? I can tell them to stop you know ... If you're bored. Or in gym class? Whatever you say."

"Nonono ... It's just that..." Then it dawned on me what she'd said. SHE set up the routine: One girl in each class. Same thing in gym ... the 'special ceremony.'

"And anyway, I DO let go sometimes. In class? And we don't even have most classes together." She was still looking at me with those blue eyes, so earnest. By now she was stroking me slowly. It was hard for me to concentrate. IT was also hard. "It's not a PDA - which is outlawed curing NIS. It's just a reasonable request."

She had backed me against the lockers and was leaning into me. Soft pillows made of cheerleader-breast meat squashed against my chest. Her hand had changed grip and Mr. Meat was now pointing straight up between us. She wiggled her belly a little and the football jersey lifted up. I felt the warmth of her tummy on Mr. Meat. Then her thumbnail scratched lightly against the tender part of my cock: just below the head on the underside, while the rest of her hand was squeezing me slowly.

"Uh ... Becky." My eyes were glazed over and I couldn't think straight. "Keep that up and I'm gonna shoot. I can't think."

"Oh. OK. If you don't like it..." He voice trailed off and she was backing away.

"Nono. I mean. You can keep on holding it if you want." Don't leave me hanging right now!! Never mind that my next class was only across the hall, and that somebody was probably gonna give me a BJ. Which she had arranged.

"Good. 'Cause I kinda like him. I think he's my friend now." She said it in a joking way. Then she backed away a little, and held my cock with just her fingernails. All the fingernails of her right hand were holding it just around the head. It felt like barbed wire was just touching my skin: if I so much as jumped the wrong way, I might not like it. "C'mon ... let's go to class." And she led me with her barbed-wire hold on my cock, across the hall. She looked around the class. "Oh Cynthia?" Cynthia was one of her girlfriends, I guess. Who knew that? Cynthia had never registered on my radar. "Can you take care of this please? Don't break it," she said with a laugh. "I'm gonna need it later."

Then she sliced one of the razor sharp talons between my ball sack and right up the vein on the bottom of my shaft. It felt like it was razor sharp anyway. But Mr. Meat got REAL excited, and I held my breath.

"Sure thing, B," Cynthia said as she took over for Becky. "You run along and play with computers or something. I'll play with this. By the way, I like your tattoo. Is that from him?" Tattoo?? Then I saw Becky touch the hickey on her neck. I get it, now.

"Like it would be from somebody else?" She gave me a little wave with her fingers - like girls do sometimes, you know? - and she was out the door, on her way to her C++ class in the computer lab. As if C wasn't hard enough, she was taking it with ++'s. But that's my Becky: smartest li'l bimbo in the Senior Class.

Back to business: Cynthia had my full attention, now, cause she was handling Mr. Meat. He's always interested in the here and now. She pushed me back into the 'relief chair' and then placed just the head on her outstretched tongue. Her fingertips began to stroke me, lightly and almost teasing. It was an unusual sensation and I humped myself forward a little to get into her mouth.

She backed off right away. "You don't like what I was doing?"

"It's not that, I just wanted ... you know."

She laughed. "'You know' is coming. Just you sit still." And with that she placed the tip on her tongue again. The teasing touches started on the shaft again.

Miss Horvath, the teacher for math, walked in just then. She was struck still. Must have been a sexy sight: naked, hunky guy with a big hard-on, girl on her knees between his legs, cock jumping around from the touches and always coming back to rest on her tongue. I didn't see it that way. I was just looking at Cynthia's big, brown eyes, looking up at me.

I never knew she wanted me this much. I mean, it's natural for every girl to want to get some quarterback-meat. But she seemed to get off on just tickling me and feeling me bounce on her tongue.

Then she closed her lips around the head. Gave me a little suck, and went back to the "just resting on the tongue" position. I immediately jerked forward. A little teasing touches again and I was getting to the point where I wanted to grab her head and stuff my cock into her face. FOR CHRISSAKES, SUCK IT!! Then she did the 'little suck on the head' thing - only this time with more suck and some tongue on the head - and released me again. ARRGH!

After a few hours - it seemed to me like hours anyway - of this, she closed her mouth again and began sucking hard.

That was all Mr. Meat could stand. He spit up, all over the inside of her mouth.

Wednesday pm - Lisa

I guess my little exhibition with breaking wood, worked. Kind of. It got me a little breathing room in the hallways. I missed the groping and stroking, I found out. I'd gotten used to getting stroked by an unseen mob - unseen by me anyway, cause when it started to feel good, I closed my eyes.

It was on my way to study hall. That was my last class of the day - which replaced gym on Wednesday. My Latin lover - I liked the sound of that - snuck up from behind me, and put his hands on my titties. "Guess who?" It was his usual greeting. He started tweaking my nipples. 'Tweaking' - as in pinching lightly and continuously. He didn't even bother to stroke my breasts. Just 'tweaking' the nips.

I moistened immediately. "Ummm. Hi Rudy." I guess I'm not so far from Ryan after all: he couldn't make a sentence when he was getting stroked either.

Before I could even turn around, there was the pink haired girl again, running her hands up the insides of my legs. She was looking at Rudy's big, black hands, delicately 'tweaking' me. I looked at her, really for the first time. She had a band of freckles across her nose and cheeks, and her hair was more pink-highlights on red. "What's your ... ooooooooh ... name?" I unconsciously spread my legs a bit to give her more room. That's all she needed. She started to move up my legs and was lightly caressing the juncture of my crotch and legs. All right! She was caressing me. And I liked it. Now I was past swampy. I was Katrina-level-flood-in-New-Orleans wet.

Rodolfo whispered in my ear, "I'd like to finish this sometime. Just the two of us." And then he broke off and zipped around the corner - probably to his next class. His voice was hot in my ear. And what he said was hot, too. He wanted me? That's good ... Oooooooh. My thinking got interrupted by pink-hair, almost stroking my pussy.

The bell rang.

"Oh," said pink-hair. "I'm Coral ... Coral Elliot." Her busy fingers danced across my mound. They came to rest on my clit. ON MY CLIT! "Glad to meet you," she said as her two forefingers pushed my clit hood back and she gave me one very soft, slow stroke all the way up between my labia and on through my exposed and far-too sensitive clit.

"Uhhhhhhhhhhh." I had to reach out and lean on the wall for support. I closed my eyes. My legs closed. I almost came. Surely she wouldn't stop now.

When I opened my eyes, she was gone.

Wednesday pm/evening - Ryan

I was driving Becky around, so I waited for her near the office. I got dressed and looked for her. And for Lisa. I STILL wanted to put a touchdown on that particular scoreboard.

Lisa just breezed past the office and out to her car. "Hi Ryan. Where's your keeper?" She smiled at me. "Bye Ryan."

Before I could even get two words out, she was out the door.

Becky came around the corner just as Lisa was going out the door. She was talking to that Coral girl who had been part of the remote control face fuck. "Ok. Talk at ya later, Cor." Then she radiated that smile in my direction. "Hi there. It's my favorite guy!" She put her hand on my jeans-covered package. "Awwww. I can't hold him anymore." Becky made a frowny face and unconsciously straightened the t-shirt.

The bruise on her left bicep was getting even more purpley-green. I saw it and it made me angry. I hope that SOB learned his lesson today. I re-crookeded her shirt so it covered her arm. I know. I don't hink that's a word by the way. But what is the right word for redoing a crooked t-shirt so it is just in the right off-center place?

"C'mon, Becky. I need some more time with your tonsil hockey team." And this time, I put my arm around her, and led her to the Mustang.

"Sure thing, big man." She took to my leading her, like she was born to it. "But I have to stop at the trailer to get some clothes. That is if I'm gonna stay over again."

"You got it!" said I. But I knew this was going to be trouble. Her old man was probably in there, probably beat up some. Her mother was usually home on Wednesday afternoons. I was going to have to play it real cool, so she wouldn't know I had anything to do with it.

Well, we got to the doublewide and Becky went in. She was in there for a little while. And then she was in there for another while. She ran out the door with a larger bag packed, and threw it in the back seat. But she didn't get in the car.

"Ryan. I need some money. How much do you have?" She was talking fast, and pretty quietly. She had never talked about the money I gave her. It was an unspoken thing between us. "Somebody came to the house today, and beat up my father. BEAT HIM UP." She said it in a strained voice - like she was aiming it at me. "He needs to go to the hospital, but momma doesn't have any money. So can you loan me some?"

GOOD. Now HE knows what it feels like to get beat up by somebody. How does he like it? But I said, "Sure Beck. I have maybe a couple of hundred here. How much..." I reached for my wallet, and the small stack of bills I was planning to use to take her out to a nice restaurant. After the BJ I expected this afternoon. I mean ... gotta treat the bitch right, right?

I was opening the wallet, when she just reached in and grabbed the money. It was something around $500. "Thanks Ry. Be right back." And she ran into the trailer.

When she came out a few minutes later, she jumped across the hood and then into the car. "Drive. Drive away from here. C'mon ... lets go!" She was in a real hurry, and I bet it had to do with the money and what was going on inside. I peeled some rubber and drove.

We didn't get more than a few blocks when Becky started to crawl all over me. She had her hand in my pants, and whispered in my ear. "Pull over, Ry." Who am I to deny a lady who has lust in her heart? I pulled over.

She had Mr. Meat in her hand now, and she was alternating playing with him and using her fingernails to scrape - gently of course - on my ball sack. It got my attention! I pulled her over so I could smooch a little better.

Becky held back a little, and concentrated on her hand-work. "Ry-un. Did y'all have somethin' to do with getting' my father beat up?" Uh.Oo ... when she goes all Texas-accent on me, something is up. And it ain't just Mr. Meat. "I jes bet you did!"

"No Becks. Honest. I didn't even talk to those guys from Houston. I mean ... if that's where they were from. I was in school all day. And yesterday too. Nope. Not me." I almost flubbed up there, good thing I'm quick. But I didn't think real good when she had her hand where she HAD HER HAND at the moment.

"OK. I b'lieve ya." She said, the Texas in her voice still thick. "But if it happens agin, I'd be real upset. He's my daddy. Even if he don't treat me so nice sometimes, he's still my daddy." Her hand tightened a little around my balls. That was just a natural reaction to her being upset, right? She almost was squeezing too tightly. "I may just go into seclusion - and that'd be, like, cuttin' you off from y'all's supply of pussy. I sure hope it don't happen agin." Then she went back to the regular stroking. "'Cause I like it the way things are. Don't chew?"

Cut me off from ALL my pussy? No way. Never happen. Look at all the girls I got after me in school. But I'll let her think she runs my henhouse. "No, Beck," I smiled and tried to pull her over the console. "I like things just the way they were."

"Good. Me too." And she gave me a playful, loving squeeze. Geez. It sure was better than that other one. She put Mr. Meat away and got back in the passenger seat. She reached for her seat belt, and I knew that she was feeling better. I drove home, and we talked about regular stuff. Nothing too heavy. Just football stuff and where I want to go to college. Becky seems to think that USC might fit best with my style of play. I never really thought of them, 'cause they didn't call me with a scholarship. But if they did. WOW. Texas was a runnin' school. Well, mostly. And besides they had this red-shirt freshman at QB. USC had a outgoing senior and the backup wasn't so hot.

When we got to my house, I wanted to go right down stairs so I could get Becky naked, but she put a hand on my chest. "I'd love that, stud. But we gotta make dinner, and I have a program to write. YOU may have no homework this week, but I do."

"Well, this is Wednesday, so the housekeeper left Mexican chicken and rice in the stove." I popped it open and looked. Yup. It was there. "So that just leaves you and me and this big ol' house." I made a grab for her, but she put her laptop between me and her. "Ok. Ok. I won't bother you. But you gotta sit on my lap while you work."

"No, Ryan. That won't work. Something will 'come up'." She blinked those baby blues at me, like she didn't know what she said.

So I went into the kitchen and got myself a plate of chicken and rice. I put it on the table where Becky was working - at the other end. "Oh," she said, "is that for me? Nice of you, Ry." And she batted those blues at me again. That made me a dumbshit for not thinking to offer her one.

"I ... was just going to get you a plate." I could fake it like I was thinking of her all along. "And some silverware. AND a drink."

"Why Ryan Wylie. Thank you so much. Could I have a napkin too?"

Napkin. Of course. She wouldn't just wipe her mouth on her sleeve. Which, incidentally was the sleeve of MY jersey. I have to admit - I liked the way she looked in it better than the way I looked in it.

Wednesday evening - Lisa

I was just ready to pull out of the school parking lot, when I saw the police cruiser behind me flashing his red and blue lights. I pulled into a parking space. I wasn't even wearing my jacket; it wasn't cold. I was sure I wasn't doing anything. I wasn't even on the road yet.