Episode 37: BILLY JOEL

The parking lot of Horton-Dexter High School!

“Why am I letting you drag me along to do hard labor on a Saturday?”

“Oh, come on Donny, the hard labor was after the football game last night.”

Marcella VanCamp winked across the seat of her car at her ex-boyfriend Donny. Fuck buddy these days at best. They got along great, but neither were ready to commit to anything long term. Donny liked his freedom and Marci was mostly a loner with very few friends. She didn’t even own a pet. Too much trouble and expense.

Up until recently she was living off of savings in an old country farmhouse her grandfather let her move into. Gramps was pretty much all she had until he passed away. Blessed by him she inherited the small parcel of land. Thankfully, no livestock. Just the wide-open spaces.

It was great for the band practices she kept up with, even after budget cuts killed the program for this year. To show her support although without pay, she taught her students from home and provided music to Horton-Dexter’s athletic program. No grudge whatsoever!

“How could I deny Carl after he and Piper brought me back on. Now I can pay my property taxes and still eat. Besides that, Piper is buying new instruments and going all out for me. I owe her bigtime.”

“Like getting you to streak at the game last night?”

“I don’t know why I let her talk me into that. I’m weak when it comes to money.”

“Hey, you know I’m not complaining about that part. I had my binoculars on you the entire march, MARCHella!” He chuckled! “Well, except during that scrimmage between Piper and the weather girl Kendra Gooney.”

“And the Rhinette’s getting hammered by the restless natives.”

“And the Swallowers hopping from dick to dick behind the fenceline. Total chaos!”

“Someday all of those type of actions will bite every one of the schools in the ass.”

“I’m pretty sure there was a lot of ass biting after the game.”

“Don’t remind me.” She sneered from her driver’s seat. “My cheek hurts where you bit mine.”

“It’s 5:00 on the dot. Let’s get this show on the road. Those student helpers better be here because I’m not doing any hauling down three flights of stairs like eighty times.”

“Carl told me he had the back windows that were boarded up removed and the glass covered on the lower levels. to prevent shattering them. We should be able to just pick things up and toss them down at the dumpsters.”

Spotting a garbage truck arriving with another empty dumpster clued them in on the situation. “I’ll make things easier on you, Donald. You go out back and assist in making room in each dumpster for maximum capacity. There are a lot of broken student desks, tables, old computers and the like upstairs. When they get tossed down it will pile up in one area so just spread things out.”

“Like I spread your legs all last night?”

“Stop that.” She jabbed him in the ribs playfully. “And no, you cannot stay the night again tonight. I don’t want this to become a habit. We split up for a reason.”

“Right! I smothered you.”

“Smothered? Cheated constantly more like. Which I’m over, our hookups once a month or so satisfies me.”

Not really! She immediately thought of her Boston Logger encounter as well as students Angus Furlong and Kirby Drummond all three within three days’ time since returning to school. That was a first for her. A foot long cock, a half foot long jock, and a drummer who did a solo on her in her time of greed. Ugh! Add in Donny twice in two weeks and she was feeling pretty good.

“I brought gloves and protective eyewear; they’re in the backseat. Grab what you need and head on back. I’ll go find this Albert Boss and get the students in order.”

“Kiss for the road?”

“After the day is done.” Razz! Climbing from her Land Rover, Marci collected her own gloves and goggles and headed on down the sidewalk. Donny whistled at her butchered denim shorts showing a hint of cheek with every step she took. A red cheek at that, where he had spanked and bit her booty. If it weren’t still so hot outside Marci would have worn jeans. Nope! She had forgotten that the third floor now had air conditioning, but it would be shut off due to windows being open. Smart move on her part.

Leaving Donny, she rounded the front of the school and managed to badge herself through the turnstile, but the front glass doors were still locked. Peering in past the glare of the setting sun she noticed at least twelve students seated in the hallway, backs to lockers.

“There’s Charmaine Jackson from the cafeteria crew. Ah! Right! She dates Antoine Boss.” Waving at her Charmaine hopped up and sprinted down the hall. “Good lord! She’s only wearing her underwear. Her chest is all over the ... out in plain sight.” Flopping freely! Charmaine didn’t bother to cover up until she opened the door from the inside.

“Hey, Marci.”

“Hey yourself, Victoria’s Secret. Why are you in your underwear?”

“Too hot for clothes. Me and the temperature. At least you wore booty shorts and a tube top.” She snickered! “You should try just underwear; it’s twenty degrees cooler. I really should get a job at Vickie’s, shouldn’t I. Oh, wait! I already make more money than they would pay me.” Hooker! Stashing her monster melons Charmaine fiddled with her bra straps.

“If you say so. I don’t want to know. You date Antoine Boss, right?”

“And his daddy Albert. Albert at least pays me for sex. Ant ... if he wasn’t so darn good in bed, I’d deny him.”

“Oh, God! Where is Albert?”

“Third floor. He and Antoine. Ant came here with him today to show him the cleaning room and where all of the classes are. We were told to stay down here out of the way until you arrived.”

“I see my band people.” Kirby Drummond was already drooling over Marci’s tight denim shorts. With him was Tabitha Martin, Flora Beatty, Judy Franken, Andy Verone, Melvin Adler, and Cybil Jenkins of her marching band. The rest were a few stragglers from the Nerd Herd.

“Wait until you see the garbage man.” Charmaine bulged her eyes. “Joel the Pole.”

“Excuse me?”

“He was a male stripper back in the day to pay for college. He dropped out and now he’s a garbage handler. Joel can take this trash out anytime he wants it.” She pointed at herself. “You can still find his dancing on Disgracebook. His dick is huge.”

“I am not here to look at outdated videos of... “ Coming down the staircase was a 6’4 giant of a man with blonde hair and muscles on top of muscles. “ ... Joel, you say?”

“Doesn’t he make a grey jumpsuit look sexy? He unzips it when he gets too sweaty, all the way down to here.” She tapped her fingernail to her black lace panties right over her pubes. Marci noticed but quickly shook off looking at Charmaine’s madness.

“Why is he in here instead of out with the truck and dumpsters?”

“He just went up to survey the damage. He owns the garbage company now. Entrepreneur!”

“Well, at least he did something to better himself after dropping out and giving up ... his jumpsuit.”

“You mean his speedo.”

“Right! Speed bump!”

Charmaine noticed Marci’s eyes going without blinking. She knew she was attracted to the man. Loner yes, blind no! Even the girls in the band were awestruck by Joel’s physique and perfect smile. He knew it but kept his reaction minimal until he saw Marci. Walking past the scattered students he zeroed in on the stagestruck Miss VanCamp.

“Are you the lady in charge?”

“I am. Joel, is it?” She stuttered slightly as he placed both of his hands into his pockets. Big fingers spreading out within them it was obvious he wanted her to look at his ... pole.

“That’s right! Joel Hancock.”

“Hand ... cock.” Charmaine leaned into Marci with a playful whisper.

“Stop that.” Marcella nudged her away. In response Joel removed his hands and put them up defensively. “Not you, her. I mean ... you weren’t doing anything.” Wasn’t he? Funny how the interior of both pockets was cut out. If looking closely you could see skin.

“Just here to get the job done.”

“I’m sure you are. I’m Marci VanCamp.” She extended a hand. Claiming it she felt the warmth of his touch. His hand was three times the size of hers. Once the handshake was done, he put his hands right back inside his pockets. Knuckles to each side of the large penis imprint pressing the fabric outward. Dear God! Showoff!