Chapter 5: "Delightfully Tacky, Yet Unrefined"

I woke up to the ever-more familiar sensation of sexual pleasure, specifically of the oral kind. I opened my eyes and saw the locker-room ceiling, the faint slurping sound echoing through what was left of my over-sexed brain. I could feel Amber's tongue working her magic, sliding up and down my again rock-hard shaft. The room felt cool and quiet, devoid of all sound except for the faint sound of saliva on skin. "Jesus Amber, that feels so good."

"Thank you," replied a voice, only it wasn't Amber's ... it ... was ... oh no.

I immediately jerked my head up and looked down at my dick only to see perched over my cock the face of Gary Coleman. He flashed me that painfully frightening quizzical glance and asked, "What'chu talking about?

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!" I woke up suddenly, instantly flying to a sitting position, spilling the still-sleeping naked body of Amber onto the floor next to me. I was panting and sweating, struggling for breath. The faint pitter-patter of rain could be heard hitting the bleachers above us, singing along with the distant roll of thunder. The weather must have changed. "Son of a bitch!" I said, still recoiling from the horrific visage of Gary Coleman. "What the fuck!"

It suddenly dawned on me that my little nightmare had also risen Ian and Jules, who were lying together on a floor mat to my left. Amber fell off of me to my right, one leg still dangling over the bench we fell asleep on, and looked up at me with puzzled groggy eyes. "You alright?" She murmured, still half asleep. She rubbed her eyes and pulled her leg off the bench, starting to gather her composure. I looked at her nude body for the first time without sex on my mind. That lasted about 2 seconds until sex was back on my mind. Those breasts are absolutely incredible! Wait a minute, what time is it?

Ian must have read my mind because he glanced at his watch and sighed heavily. "Dude, class ended two hours ago. It's one o'clock."

"Damn," I said. "We better get going." Hearing this, Jules whined a little and rolled onto her arms and legs, crawling over towards me.

"Don't go," she complained, straightening up onto her knees to my left, exposing her gorgeous nude body to me. "You and I haven't had a chance to have much fun yet." She tweaked her mouth into a sly smile and lifted her arms to brush her short blonde hair behind her ears, slightly lifting her pert, young, tiny breasts. She then reached out her left hand towards my crotch. She wrapped her fingers around my cock, squeezing it gingerly before starting to slowly jack me off, bringing me back to life. "Won't you stay a little longer?" Amber straightened up to her knees as well on my right side and placed her hand on my chest, motioning for me to lay back, her smile telling me her thoughts were the same as Jules'.

I had to admit that the offer was tempting and indeed, my cock was beginning to pulsate with life once again. But, alas, variety is the spice of life and this scene was beginning to taste a little bland. In my younger days, like yesterday, I could have, and would have, stayed up here fucking these two blonde hotties all day long and probably long into the night but hey, there were many, many more fish in my sea and I wanted to try out some halibut ... umm ... yeah. I had to save some energy for my later experiences. Plus, these girls went to school with me. I could tap into those resources for the rest of the year. My dick began to get hard in Jules' hand and her pumping started getting faster. It felt so incredible that it was with a VERY heavy heart that I pushed it away. "I'm sorry Jules, but I have to get back to class for a test. So does Ian." I looked over at Ian and he stuttered, flashing me a shocked expression of "What the fuck are you doing?" I quickly gave him a glance that conveyed back to him, "Don't worry, we're not going back to class" and he seemed to settle a little bit. I again glanced down at Jules and she seemed genuinely disappointed. Amber looked a bit sad as well.

"Aww, c'mon guys, I remarked, trying to cheer them up a bit, "This isn't the end. Tell you what, write your number down on something and I'll give you a call later and we'll have a little get-together." They still seemed somber but Jules gave me a sobering warm smile and took my hand.

"You drive a hard bargain Cam, I guess I'll have to wait..." She chuckled slightly. "I don't like it, but I'll take it." She looked down and began writing her number onto my hand with a pen. Hmmm, she didn't have that a minute ago and she's completely naked. Where the hell did that pen come from? After she was done she handed it to Amber who wrote her number below Jules'. Jules walked over to her panties and bent over to pick them up. Staring at that ass, I started to reconsider passing that up. Amber stood up, planting a kiss on my cheek and whispered into my ear.

"You better call me."

"I will, I'll call you both." I smiled at her warmly to assure her of my sincerity. "Trust me, if not for this test, I'd be all over you two all over again." She laughed a little bit and walked over to the side, picking up her things. Ian pulled up his boxers and looked at me shaking his head. I could tell that he was disappointed but it was only one o'clock, there was a lot of day left.

After getting dressed and cleaning up a bit, we pushed open the doors and found out that it was pouring down rain. The good news was that the gym classes had been moved indoors so the coaches wouldn't notice us running back to school. The bad news is, by the time we got there, we would be completely fucking soaked. The really really good news is that the girls were wearing white wife-beaters.

Lightning crashed down over the hills a good distance away and my heart leaped a beat. There is nothing I enjoy more than a thunder-storm. I don't generally enjoy being out in them but I love everything else. The sound of the rain on windows, the wet feeling of grass under bare feet, the crash of lightning followed by a low rumble several seconds later, and even the smell of it. Storms get me excited, especially summer ones where the rain is still warm, where it's tolerable to still be out in it. Still though, as much as I enjoyed the rain, I hated being wet, so we counted to three and started sprinting towards the school.

Now, I consider myself a pretty smart guy, but I failed to see the absolute futility of this action. I ran as fast as I could, outrunning Ian and the girls by a few steps, but the school was a quarter mile away. By the time we got there, we were completely worn out from sprinting that far, and we were completely soaked just as if we would've walked it. Oh well, at least now the girls looked even hotter, if that's possible. Their hair was drenched and darker appearing, Amber's sticking to the back of her shirt, and their wife-beaters were soaked as well, displaying every subtle contour of their brightly colored sports-bras beneath. Their nipples also protruded vividly and drew my gaze wherever they went.

Our farewell to the girls was short but sweet, exchanging kisses and hugs. I looked down at my hand and the numbers were still readable, albeit a bit streaked by rain. Ian and I walked past the gym to make sure the coach was busy with a gym class, and satisfied that he was, we again entered the locker room. It was empty, save for about 30 book bags and piles of clothes. Ian and I took a quick run through under the showerheads and quickly dried and dressed, running out of there before the end of the period so as to be unnoticed. Once we were clear of the locker room, I started entering the new numbers into my cell as Ian spoke for the first time.

"Dude, so um ... why are we not fucking beautiful girls at the stadium right now?"

"Cause dude, we're gonna go get some lunch, I'm hungry," I replied. Ian started laughing.

"You know Cam, as much as I would love to still be up there with Jules, I think I'm actually more interested in seeing what's gonna happen to you at lunch."

"No lie," I said, "I'm kind of excited myself." We walked to Ian's locker to get his coat and just as we were turning to head to mine, I spotted Hannibal turn the corner just up ahead and start walking our way. "Fuck!" I grabbed Ian and shoved him behind some lockers and I ducked behind them after him.

"Lecter is it?" Ian commented.

"Yeah man, if that Nazi fucker catches me ditching again, I'll be suspended. And I actually want to come to school for the next few days, its where all the females are."

"So what now genius, you got us stuck behind lockers, with Lecter headed this way. You wanna make a break for it?"

"There's no way, he'd catch us for sure. Maybe..." Just as I was about to suggest Ian faking a seizure, I saw the familiar face of Sasha walking past in a hallway perpendicular to our own, holding a book to her chest, still in that badass cheerleader uniform. I prepared to yell her name but she turned and saw me just as she walked past and seeing ole' Hannibal walking down the hallway towards us, walked calmly over and pretended to drop her book. She kneeled down to pick it up and whispered to us, "What are you guys doing? Lecter's gonna kill you Cam, after this morning."

"I know," I said, "Do you think you could distract him long enough for us to get out of here?" Sasha began tying her shoe-lace to buy some extra time. She looked up at me, with her head tilted towards the floor, those green eyes penetrating me.

"Alright Cam," she said, "I'll buy you some time." She pulled out a little slip of paper out of her bag and wrote a number on it, dropping it onto the floor before starting to get up again. "But you have to call me tonight, we never finished this morning, you owe me a ... favor or two." She stuck out her tongue and smiled as she started to walk away and my dick twitched at the mere mention of fucking her. Ian chuckled to himself, saying how kickass this was.

As she walked away, I peeked out of our hiding spot, watching her ass sway hypnotically with each step. She had a way of carrying herself, a stride that swung her hips as she moved, making every guy within fifty feet crazy. I reached out my arm quickly and scooped up the paper. "Bet your ass I'll call you," I murmured.

As she passed Mr. Lecter I saw her say something to him. He turned to her direction and she pressed a hand against his chest, smiling and laughing at him. She then bent over slightly and pulled her skirt up one leg, obviously pretending to have a problem with her pantyhose or something. Lecter looked a little flushed, that fat fuck. Ian started to laugh softly. "What a slut," he quipped.

"C'mon Ian, this is our chance." We both stood up and bolted towards the end of hallway hanging a sharp right at the end. We slowed down after that and started to head towards the parking lot. "Forget about my coat dude," I said, "I'll live without. It's warm out anyways." We pushed open the doors to the outside and lightning struck, lighting up the whole valley. It was dark as night outside, and the rain was coming down hard. Ian and I bolted towards my car and I hurriedly unlocked it, ducking inside. Ian sat down opposite me and took a few deep breaths. We were both soaking wet after about thirty seconds in that tumult. Oh well.

I started up the car and the four-cylinder powerhouse roared to life. I reached past Ian and popped open the glove box and Ian started to speak. So Cam, where we goin' for lunch?" The steady stream of rain slammed against the top of my car, making it hard to hear Ian speak. I fished around in the box for a second and pulled out a pack of cigarettes.

"I don't know, what are you in the mood for?" I reached into the pack and pulled out one of the twenty carefully wrapped joints.

"I thought you didn't smoke cigarettes," he continued.

"They're not cigarettes."

"Oh," he added sarcastically, realization punching him in the face. "I should have known." He laughed a little and grinned at me. "So I wasn't wrong in this morning's prediction?" I started to light the "cigarette" and spoke through my gritted teeth.

"You know me too well, what can I say?" I took a deep puff and offered it to Ian. He, of course, turned it down, and I shifted the car into drive. "Suit yourself man." Luckily, he didn't realize that he was gonna get stoned whether he wanted to or not. This car was gonna fill up with the sweet smell of chiba and he was gonna get toasty off of the fumes. My evil plan was finally going to succeed. Mwaaaahahahaha!

"Alright dude, so where you wanna go?" he asked.

"I don't know dude, where we goin?"

"I don't know man, where you wanna go?" My friends and I had this same inane conversation several times a day. It always lasted about five minutes and eventually ended with us going to Denny's. But today was different, it was the start of something new, we had to go somewhere else. I looked at Ian and started to philosophize, the weed starting to kick in, ever so slightly.

"Ian, on this most magnificent of days, we must choose a most magnificent place to dine. A place with a warm atmosphere that is attractive in taste and tact. We must choose a place where the food is pleasing, as is the mood. There must be fine girls there Ian, willing to lend a hand, or some other useful body part, in times of need. There must be a manly air about the place, catering to the tastes of a gentleman, yet still appealing to his most primal of desires." Ian sat there nodding as I spoke. "It must be ... delightfully tacky ... yet unrefined." Ian smiled at this last remark and understood, as did I. He turned back to the front and rested his head back.

"Hooters it is," he remarked, and I pulled out of that parking lot like a bat out of hell. I started rambling to Ian, as is usually my custom when I smoke, about many things here and there. I first felt it my duty to explain to him the many facets of fundamental smoking knowledge. I found myself telling him how to roll a joint, taught him the finer art of bluntcraft, and explained why gravity bongs had the best economy by providing the most utility for the price. As I said this, I put in my Bob Marley "Legend" CD and my impotent speaker system starting thumping out "One Love," a very fine song. The car was starting to become very cloudy too, our windows being closed because of the rain. I talked a little more about smoking until I could faintly see Ian's eyes start to glisten over and the slight spark of comprehension slip off of his face. Oh man, he was gone. Hehehe. Damn, so was I.

Alright, as any smoker can attest, there are many grades of weed, and each different grade produces a different feeling. Some people describe it as being more or less high, but I think that the different types produce a different feeling or mindset, and this shit was crazy. It seriously made me want to cry and laugh at the same time. I smoked this stuff and I turned into a bitchy schoolgirl on the verge of emotional collapse. It was a very sad site to see. At least I could count on Ian being the same way.

As I became more emotional, the conversation switched from smoking, to life in general, and then, inevitably, to women. Ian and I were guys' guys in that we liked to talk shit about bitches and hoes and such, but the weed had reduced us to women (no offense to you women) and we couldn't think straight. I started whining about how the sex was good but that I felt no emotional attachment to the girls I was with today and that all I wanted was love. Ian started saying the same things and we delved into the one thing men should never talk about; feelings. Jesus Christ, I needed to bitch slap myself. Then the worst thing happened. "No woman, no cry" started playing on my CD and Ian and I started tearing up. I am going to murder my dealer.

Luckily, just as we were about to start whining to God about the trivialities of life, the orange-neon glowing shape of an owl brought me back to sanity. "There it is," I thought, "There's the Hooters!" I pulled into the parking lot and after about twenty attempts to back into a spot, I finally managed to semi-crookedly pull in, giggling like a sissy. We exited the car, and stumbling towards the trunk, I sprayed a little "Aqua di Gio" across my chest and handed it to Ian. Georgio Armani is probably the biggest pussy alive, but at least he smells good. It really wouldn't last in this rain, but it would at least mask our smell slightly. We didn't need any legal hassles in this most sacred of places. Ian and I were drawn to the doors like bugs to a zapper and as we opened them, our faces were blasted by the sweet sweet smell of cheap fried wings mingling with beer. Ahh, that's the stuff. We pushed through the second set of doors and three large breasted women met us, beckoning us forward. God, I love hooters.

As we walked up to the three smiling women, I couldn't help but feel like the people that die in movies and are welcomed at the gates of heaven by all these happy singing people, while the choir rages in the background singing hallelujah. Yes ladies, hallelujah indeed. As we walked up to them, one girl began her shpiel. "Hello, how are you guys today? I'm Melanie, table for two?" I have no idea why this was funny but it struck me as absolutely hysterical. I looked at Ian and he smiled back at me, and we both struggled not to laugh. Oh yes, one of the truer consequences of marijuana is inability to socialize with anyone. The three girls just stared at us with confused expressions on their faces. I am such a loser.

"Oh I'm sorry," I said, trying to regain control. "Table for two." Melanie looked at me strangely and smiled. Damn, high as a motherfucker and I can still get chicks. Pimp-Fairy, wherever you are, I got mad love for you buddy.

"Right this way," she said, and just as she turned around, Ian started laughing again, making me laugh again. I playfully shoved him but he ended up tripping over a chair and falling over, causing me to completely lose control. Good Lord, I can't even imagine how bad that looked. Anyways, Ian scrambled to his feet and, after attracting the attention of pretty much everyone in the restaurant, we finally ended up at a window table awaiting our Pepsis. I personally prefer Coke, but what the hell.

Wow. Hooters. Why is it that I cannot enter this restaurant without feeling like I'm in white-trash heaven. Could it be that all of the buxom servers are blondes with southern accents? Could it be that all the TV's are continuously tuned to NASCAR races? Or, perhaps it's the cowboys. Anyone who has ever been to Hooters knows exactly what I'm talking about. These huge rednecks walk in here with their cheesy-ass, leather-rimmed cowboy hats (not cool ones like the Pimp-Fairy), imitation snake-skin boots, flannel shirts, and really tacky oval-shaped belt-buckles depicting a deer or a rifle or some shit. Not only that, but they treat Hooters like a family restaurant and bring their decrepit wives and their 4-year-old children along. Kids that young should not have to deal with cleavage of the magnitude shown here, it just confuses them.

I picked up a menu and just as I began to peruse, Ian pulled it down and prodded me. "So Cam, what's your game plan?"

"Dude, chill out," I said, "You interrupted my perusing." I picked up the menu and began my work anew. "Let's at least order first, I'm real hungry."

Our Pepsis arrived and I sucked mine down, violently seeking nourishment. I started to feel better as the sugar entered my bloodstream and the high started wearing off. Tranquility washed over me and I stared out the window at the rainstorm dreamily. The only thing that could make this better would be a hottie at my side and a plate of ribs in front of me. Enter Tracy. As she approached the table, time seemed to slow down. What caught me initially was her long sensual hair. Jet black as the blackest ... black, it hung down to the small of her back. Hey, that rhimes. Her hair shimmered in the light and gracefully swung with her stride. As my gaze traveled down her hair, it admittedly made a pit-stop at her breasts. She had a very decent rack that hung a little too loosely to be a teenager's. They were by no means saggy, even though they were, at minimum, C-cups, but they just hinted of a girl in her mid 20's. She was probably a college chick, every high-school-kid's wet-dream. But even if she wasn't, she could be my wet-dream any time.

Her breasts were further magnified by her tight Hooters T-shirt. The amount of boob on display could make a grown man cry for his mother. The shirt also accentuated her flat stomach, tapering down to long creamy legs that curved in all the right places. As she bent to drop off a plate, her ass was revealed to me. Under the constraints of her hot pants, each cheek was proudly displayed in all of its glory. My jaw dropped and my mind went to work on how to get those pants off. They were practically sprayed on. It was going to be difficult, but I was ready to give it a shot.

She stepped up to the table and as she began to speak, my mind flashed out of its day-dream. I looked at Ian and he was as stunned as I. "Hello," she said, "my name is Tracy and I'll be your server for today." She took out a small notepad and a pen and looked up at Ian. Beautiful green eyes with slight freckles completed her look. What a hottie. "What can I get you?" How about a lap dance?

Ian fumbled slightly with his words but managed out a weak, "wings please." She jotted down his order hurriedly like a waitress usually does and then looked at me. As her eyes met mine, I thought I could discern a slight change in her expression. Her lips curled slightly, her eyes softened, and her entire countenance seemed to radiate sensuality. Her hand lowered slightly and the rush about her, the quick pace she was moving at, slowed down ever so slightly, as her mind wavered from her work. She smiled slightly and then leaned back, crossing her arms in front of her. She looked at me with a quizzical expression mixed with a smile that strained to convey her true sentiment and said, "I'm sorry, do I know you from somewhere? You look extremely familiar."

Ha! A college chick was hitting me with pickup lines! I arched my eyebrows and tried to look intelligent and savvy. "I don't think so." My eyes traveled over her ridiculously hot body. "I think I would have remembered." She bit her lip.

"Are you sure? I can't put my finger on it, but I'm sure I've seen you before." She never broke eye contact. I was starting to swoon. "Do you go to Penn State?" Hmm. I questionably glanced over at Ian and he urged me on.

"Uhh ... Actually I do," I said, "I'm a sophomore. I must have brushed past you on my way to class."

"That must be it," she conceded, "What's your major?" I looked at her breasts and then back up at her face.

"Uhh ... not quite decided to tell the truth," I replied and then smiled wide, chuckling slightly. "I'm really open to anything at the moment. By the way, my name's Cameron, and this is Ian." She never looked at him, but instead smiled in return and started to giggle.

"Heh, I'm the same way. I can't seem to make up my mind about anything." She shook her head and again and returned her concentration to her notebook. "Well Cameron, what can I get you?"

"I'll have the ribs," I replied. She again smiled as she wrote it down and started to walk away. After she took about ten steps she stopped. She half-turned, and her hair slowly swung away from her face as she did so. Her eyes, those beautiful green eyes, met mine, our souls exchanging "Hello's." She glanced to the back of the restaurant and then back at me and walked up to our table. She took out her pad and scribbled something on it, then placed the note on the table, and smiled as she strode away. I watched her tight ass sway as she did so. As much as I salivated over a hot plate of barbecue ribs, I'd enjoy a rack of Tracy much more I think. I picked up the note.

It read, "Meet me behind building in 5 min." I smiled. Cameron strikes again.

"What does it say?" asked Ian, inquisitively. I folded up the note and put it in my pocket. "What Cam, what does the note say?" I stood up and pushed my stool under the table.

"I'll be back in ten minutes," I said. I started to walk away and caught some waitress smiling at me. I smiled back and caught, out of the corner of my eye, another girl looking at me. Then I realized, for the first time, that pretty much every woman over 15 in the restaurant was staring at me but pretending not to be at the same time. I looked at one, a cute young redhead and smiled, but then I saw her 50 year old mother wearing the same expression. Eww! It was then that I realized the horrible truth. As I looked around the restaurant, I noticed a sizeable amount of ugly chicks undressing me with their minds. I felt violated, naked, and squirmed under my clothes. Now I know what hot chicks must feel like. How could anyone work here! I quickly walked through the place, passing an old lady who winked at me. I could feel the nasty chunks rising up my throat as I reached for the door.

"What hell did that say!" Ian screamed. But I was already gone.

I walked out the restaurant and around the corner, breathing in the fresh air. The rain had slowed to little more than a drizzle and was warm enough that I didn't even mind. I rounded a second corner and saw a big green door in the back of the building. I leaned up against the wall next to it and waited patiently. Not thirty seconds passed before the green door opened and Tracy emerged. She said not one word but instead walked up in front of me, pressed her body hard against mine, and savagely began kissing me on the lips. God I love being me. She pressed into me, smashing me to the wall, and I felt her tits flatten against my chest. I tentatively placed my hands on her hips while our tongues mingled, my eyes darting to make sure no one was around. She pulled away suddenly, panting for breath, and placed one hand on my chest.

"Jesus Christ, I am so hot for you!" She took another deep breath and then looked down to see my bulging crotch. "Holy shit!"

"Yeah, well I uh..." was all I could manage before she grabbed me by the front of my shirt and pulled me through the door. Once inside, she pushed me against the wall in the tiny hallway and brought a single finger to her lips.

"Shhh," she said, "Be quiet." She slid her hand onto my bulge as she spoke and I breathed out sharply.

"Sure," I whispered. "I can do quiet." She took my hand and walked up to the back of the kitchen and looked out for a second.

"Come on." She said softly, and we were off running. I glanced nervously over but all the cooks didn't notice us. We passed through the inner sanctums of Hooters until we reached another door. She yanked it open and pulled me inside. She closed the door and suddenly we were engulfed in darkness. I heard her lock the door and then she flicked on the lights. Shelves of foodstuffs lined the walls so I was guessing a store-room. It smelled like bread. Not wasting a single minute, Tracy again embraced me and starting planting kisses across my face.

"What is it about you?" she muttered between kisses. "I don't think I've ever felt this horny in my life." She slid her hands under my shirt and ran them up my chest. Her hands were icy cold and I flinched. I tried to get my hands on her but before I could she pulled up hard on my shirt and lifted it up off of me. As soon as it was clear, she again pushed into me and we backed up against some boxes. She started kissing my neck and just as I placed my hands on her hips, she started sucking on my ear. How strangely titillating.

She then grasped by belt buckle and pulled off of my ear to look me straight in the eyes. "Let's get those pants off you." She wasn't smiling and I could see that she meant business. I started to get scared. My belt buckle was off in one swift movement and she placed her hands around the waistband of my pants. I quickly grabbed her around her wrists to stop her. She quizzically looked up at me with her beautiful eyes and asked me what was wrong. She pouted the way girls love to pout, and she did it very well.

"Slow down," I said, running a finger through her hair. She stood up and I gently let my hands fall to her bare waist. I began rubbing my hands up and down her sides. "Just relax," I assured her, and she forced a weak smile.

"Sorry Cameron, it's just hard sometimes when you work as much as I do." She glanced around and started to laugh. "Plus, we're in the fucking storeroom and I have to get back to my tables." Still grinning, she wrapped her arms around my back and pressed close against me, looking up into my face. "Tell you what," she said. "How about we make this one a quickie and you can come to my apartment when I get off in a half an hour." She planted a few kisses on my neck and chest. "I promise I'll make it last there." Hell, can't argue with that.

"Hell, can't argue with that," I said, and bent down to kiss her on the lips. "Now strip," I commanded. She flashed me a shocked expression as I crossed my arms in anticipation of my show. Her expression then turned mock-sensual and she fell into the part. She took a step back and slid her hands up across her body, flicking her thumbs across her very apparent nipples. She gasped and then ran her tongue across her lips as she squeezed her breasts. She kneeded them and pressed them together, entrancing me with every subtle gesture. With one deft movement, the straps fell off of her shoulders and she ran her arms through them. The sheer tightness of the shirt and size of her breasts held the shirt in place. She pulled the fabric down her magnificent globes just enough so that I almost saw a nip-nip, and then pulled it back up again, to my dismay.