Chapter 1

I’ve known my best friend in the whole world, Melody D’mitri, practically since our separate parents conceived us. We grew up together, sleeping in the same cradle when our mums would chat over tea, fighting over trucks in the same sandbox on picnics, staying up til three in the morning playing Call of Duty on our sleepovers, laughing with our mums about the price of coffee when we’d all go out. Melody’s great, I’ve always loved her. We’ve never really even fought. Maybe she became a woman overnight--but until now, I never noticed how attractive she is. How unconsciously sexy. And how hard that gets me. Damn distracting.

Which, by the way, is not a good thing. We’re best friends! I can’t get into her, she’d be repulsed by me. So I just do my best to ignore it, because sometime soon I’m hoping the feeling will go away.

The worst distraction is in English class. Melody’s assigned seat is one in front, one over of mine. Her auburn curls cascade down her back. I hear her laugh and look at her gorgeous thighs. And all of a sudden I’ve noticed that she has breasts ... beautiful, full, luscious breasts, the kind I would dearly love to worship; cup in my hands, tease, suck the nipples. Melody wears nice shirts ... and when she leans over her desk, I can almost see one whole breast. It’s unerringly fascinating ... and it also gets me very, very horny. I’ve had multiple fantasies about that one breast, and the rest of her body. What I would do to her, for her, with her.

Now, a few things you need to know about English class which makes it so bad to be distracted by sexual fantasies:

1. It is my best and most loved subject, and I am top of the class.

2. We have a very young and attractive professor, a Miss Rowena Simmons, whom is very passionate about writing, for which I deeply admire her. (She is probably not much older than 23.)

3. Our professor prefers we address her by her first name, Rowena. Rowena Simmons does not improve my game in terms of erections. In fact, she seems to worsen it. Long, straight ebony hair flows past her shoulders. Sapphire eyes, steady and shining, peep under huge black lashes. She always wears black, grey, white or deep red, in my experience, and always provocative but professional clothing. Today, for instance, she is wearing a black suit jacket with nothing underneath it (I can tell there’s nothing underneath because her nipples keep peaking against the fabric.) It is buttoned only so it keeps her breasts in--but only just. Her skirt is above the knee and has slits running down both hips. Sometimes, when she walks by in her two-inch heels, I catch just the slightest glimpse of a tattoo inked onto her inner thigh.

Today, Melody and Rowena are both driving me crazy. My focus is 0%, and I can’t stand it. My grades are getting bad because of my lack of concentration, and something must be done. Today, I can’t stand it anymore. So the next time she walks past, I say, “Rowena.”

“Yes, Burton?” She replies smoothly, turning to look at me. I see her gaze travel down my body and notice the uncomfortable bulge in my pants. “How ... can I help you?” A small, naughty smile plays over her lips.

A very tiny part of me really wants to tell her to kneel before me and suck me off, but that’s the animal part, the stupid part.

“May I be excused to use the bathroom?”

“Yes, you may.”

And that’s it. I’m out of there as quick as I can. I career into the nearest bathroom only to find a janitor woefully mopping up a puddle of disgusting sick. I can’t do it here.

Desperate, I glance around, and my eyes fall on a door outside. Absolutely no one is out there, and the tool shed looks like a nice spot...

Without a second’s more hesitation I am out by that shed, confident that no one will find or see me before I can hear their approach. I pull out my dick, massaging my hands. There’s no need for further excitement, but I fantasize anyway. In my mind’s eye I see Melody, completely naked. She leans against the shed and winks at me, arching her back. Go ahead, take me, I hear her say. When she arches her back I can see that little pink, wet hole that I so desperately, desperately need to fill. My hands work faster as the scene plays out. In my fantasy, I take her very slowly from behind, savouring every centimetre deeper inside of her that I go. Just thinking about it builds the tension up so high that I’m overloading, I’m exploding because of it, and then--