Chapter 4

Teenagers can recover from sex pretty damned quickly. By the next day I was already planning my next attack. I had decided that my next target would be Janet Abramson. I had already gotten her to make out with me, so I figured it would be easy to carry on the next logical step. It was made all the easier when she actually approached me during a free period, looking around to make sure no one saw her.

"Hi, Janet," I greeted her easily. "What's on your mind?"

She was still looking around. Janet is not the type who can move about unobserved. Tall, with wavy red hair and green eyes, a pretty freckled face and a body that was just curved enough to be very enticing, she looked adorable. She was a cheerleader, and bouncing around in her uniform she was enough to distract the fans and the players alike from the game. True to form, she was dating the quarterback of the football team, an unlikable jock named Roger Finch. Finch had pushed me around for years, and it was tempting to use my talent to get even with him. But I had ruled against that kind of revenge, and I was determined to stick to it.

Still, there is revenge and revenge, and stealing his oh-so-fuckable girlfriend out from under him would have been satisfying even if she hadn't been so good- looking. As it was, my plans were doubly sweet.

Apparently satisfied that we were unobserved for the moment, Janet turned to me and fixed me with her green eyes.

"Look, we need to talk," she started. Looking at her was fine, but listening to her rather spoiled the effect. Janet was used to getting her own way, and it showed. "Can we go somewhere private?"

"Sure," I said amiably, since that fit in well with my own plans, "Let's go behind the school."

She seemed to consider it for a moment, then nodded. "Okay. But quick!" Since most people were in class -- Janet was probably supposed to be in class herself, and was cutting -- we managed to make it behind the school unobserved. It's a fairly private spot. No one passes it on the way somewhere else. Of course, other people seeking privacy, to smoke or drink or just hang out, might go there; but I was reasonably confident by now that a simple mental "keep away" message would guarantee that we would have the place to ourselves.

"So what's the problem?" I asked her.

"Umm, well, it's like this. I'm not sure why I let you feel me up the other day -- I guess it was hormones, or something -- but I thought I should let you know that that sort of thing can't go on between us. Okay? So that's it, from now on, got it?"

"Why can't it?" I asked her.

Janet seemed a little annoyed at my obtuseness and glared at me.

"Well, I mean, come on! You're not even a freshman yet. What would people think? And Roger would freak. So, it can't happen again."

"You have really nice breasts," I commented. "Would you show them to me?"

This irrelevancy seemed to irk Janet, so she continued to explain while unbuttoning her blouse and unhooking the white cotton bra beneath.

"It isn't like you aren't a nice guy, and everything, but girls are supposed to date older men, you know? So if anybody found out, I'd be a laughing stock. My friends would drop me like that."

"I see," I said. "Does this feel nice?"

"Um, yeah, very nice, actually. Ooo. Yes. What was I saying?"

"You were explaining why we couldn't make out anymore."

"Right! So... um, why don't you try sucking them? I really like that, and Roger never gets it right... so, anyway, it isn't that I don't like you, or anything. I'm not a snob. But I've got a certain position in the school, and I don't want to rock the boat. Mmmm. Hey, are you listening to me?"

I paused in what I was doing to say "Not really." Janet wasn't used to being ignored. Her lips drew up in a very pretty pouting expression that prompted me to kiss them thoroughly. I had slipped a hand under her skirt, and was gently kneading her mound through the cloth of her silk panties. Unconsciously, her hands had gone around me, and were massaging the muscles of my shoulders.