Chapter 8C

I smiled all the way through Mrs. Elliott's English class. Our little adventure had been terrifically exciting and I was feeling great for several reasons other than having had several fantastic orgasms. I felt even better when the bell rang and I was on my way back to the gym for my class there. I had just walked out of the building when a voice called out to me.

"Hey, Sam!"

I turned to see Mr. Steve Wojeski standing next to the door with some of his crew next to him. I was extremely flattered to find that he knew my name. I walked over shyly to look up at him. He was big, and it was all hard muscle from weights and wrestling. Now that I knew that his muscles weren't the only rock-hard thing about him, I was even more impressed. The fact that he had behaved like a gentleman, even while extorting sex from me, put me very much at ease with him.

"Hi, Steve." I said, trying to think of how to start a conversation with someone who has had his cock in you, but with whom you've had no other type of conversation. "I was just heading back to the gym. This time for a class."

He laughed politely at my lame excuse for humor. His laugh was deep and resonant. I bit my lip as I edged closer to him. He was just so big and so... male. I wanted to crawl up him, wrap myself around his manly chest and bury my face in the mat of curly hair.

He looked around at the people who had been standing beside him. They took the hint and moved on, leaving us to have a private chat.

"I wanted to apologize for my behavior earlier," he said, sincerely. "I was really out of line and I'm sorry."

I was flattered and astounded. The captain of the wrestling team was apologizing to me for making me cum with just a few strokes of his hard cock. Didn't he know that if he pulled it out of his pants right there in the schoolyard and said, "suck it", I would have been on my knees in a flash? Heck, any girl in the whole school would have.

"Don't apologize!" I said, a little too loudly. "You may not have been totally serious, but did you notice how quickly we all lined up on the wall? We were all begging for it and you did a masterful job. You know you made me very happy, and I think I can say for sure that none of the other girls was, ah, unsatisfied."

"Yes. Well." he almost stammered. "The other girls..."

"Sara, Janice, and Jolene." I said, helping him out. "That's from left to right. Or the same order that you, I mean except I was..."

"Thank you. You were the only one whose name I knew. That's another reason I felt badly. I usually at least know the names of, ah, you know."

My smile ratcheted up a couple of notches and I felt like I was floating. Steve Wojeski knew who I was.

"Steve! We loved it. You were magnificent. Formal introductions can be arranged later. Anyway, we all certainly knew who you were."

"It's just that... Well, gee. It's not everyday that I get to fuck the most beautiful girl in the whole school. I just feel bad that it was so hit and run."

For a fleeting moment, I wondered who this beautiful girl was that he was talking about, then I think my jaw must have actually hit my chest, my mouth dropped open so fast. It was me! It was I! Mr. Superhunk Wojeski thought I was the most beautiful girl in the school. I'm sure my feet left the ground.

"Careful," he said, smiling at my astonishment. "Flies will get in."

I closed my mouth with a CLOP sound as my teeth slammed together. I tried vainly to think of what to say. What can you say to that? All I could think of was that Jim and Bud had been telling me the truth about guys thinking I was out of their league. Here was someone who could have his pick of any girl in town and he had just told me that I was beautiful. No, not just 'beautiful', but 'most beautiful'. What could I say to that?

"Ah, thanks!" I was already cursing myself for being so lame, but I just could not think of anything else to say. "I'm sorry that it was hit-and-run, too."

"Well, then maybe we can get better acquainted. I know this is short notice, but are you doing anything Friday night?"

"Oh! Oh, I'm sorry, Steve. I have plans for Friday." I was kicking myself already for turning him down, but Friday was impossible. Neeka and I would be taking the bike out for the first time on Friday and I had promised Bud that we would spend the night together and there was no way I was going to break that date.

"Well, how about Saturday, then. We could..."

"I'm sorry. I have plans for Saturday too." Damn! I was turning down the hottest guy I was ever likely to be lucky enough to meet! I had to do something to save the situation. His face had fallen and he wasn't looking me in the eyes anymore. I couldn't let it go like this.

"Steve. I have an idea." It was an interesting one, too. He perked right up to hear me offer an alternative, even if he didn't know what it was. It meant I wasn't turning him down, that I was willing to work with him to try to get together.

"You work out during lunch, don't you?"

"Yeah. I was on my way to the weight room when I heard you and the others through the window. I stopped to listen and got hit with the clothes when they came flying out. You can't imagine how hot it made me to know that I was about to meet four stark-naked girls."

"Almost as hot as we were to meet you. But listen, there's no rule against girls in the weight room, is there?"

"No. No rule. It's just not someplace girls ever go."

"How about if I come with you while you work out? We could talk and get to know each other. I could spot for you."

I really should have quit when I was ahead. Steve looked down at little me from his 6' 4" elevation and laughed loudly at the notion that I could spot for him. I politely laughed, too. But at the same time, I was thinking of ways to make him pay for laughing. He was a major-league, really gorgeous hunk, and I wanted to date him so badly that I would have put up with lots of bad behavior from him, but laughing at my size was a step over the line.

I blinked, and in the space of that eyeblink, the way I looked at Steve changed. I looked at him not with adoring eyes, but with the eyes of an adversary, an equal, a competitor. Through those eyes he looked less like someone to gush over, and more like someone I wouldn't mind hanging out with. It was weird. I started wondering how I could get him on a wrestling mat so I could whip his ass and then fuck him silly.

"I'll see you tomorrow, then." I said, not even letting him answer my question. "In the gym." I was going to challenge him on his own turf and I was looking forward to it.

"OK," he said, hesitantly. He knew something had just happened, but he wasn't sure what it was. The tone of deference in my voice had gone and it was replaced by something he was more used to hearing from his guy friends.

I skipped off to the gym with a light heart and a firm set to my jaw. Steve and I were going to have fun. I thought maybe I was going to have more fun than Steve, but he didn't know it yet.

I also had a lot of fun during gym class that day. After we dressed-out, Coach Simpson took us for a jog down to the practice football field and put us through some calisthenics before running us around the field a couple of times.

What made it fun was that in a crowd of girls who were all focused on their own exercises, I was able to get a better workout than usual. Instead of the girl-style of push-ups, I raised my knees slightly off the ground to make it harder. Instead of two-legged squats, I cheated and only used one leg, or I pushed off with my arms.

I may have been too enthusiastic about it, because I saw Coach Simpson eyeing me a couple of times. I was afraid she was going to say something, and I was right. When she sent everyone out for the laps around the field, she called to me.

"Samantha! Can I have a word with you, please?"

I trotted over, unhappy to be singled-out like this. "Yes, Coach?" I said.

"Samantha, I understand you dropped out of cheerleading. Can you tell me why?"

As I opened my mouth, I realized that she wasn't going to accept the 'my breasts are too tender' BS I had handed the squad when I quit. She had just seen me bouncing around without a problem, doing some pretty energetic stuff.

"Coach. Can I level with you?" It was clear she wanted me to do exactly that.

She nodded, "Sure."

"Have you ever been in a situation where you felt helpless? Where you felt that things were out of your control?"

"I'm not sure what you mean, Sam."

"I'm trading cheerleading for martial arts, Coach. I want to learn how to defend myself. Especially now that I'm more of a target for... people who might not take a firm "No!" and an upheld hand as meaning 'stop'. You know what I mean?"

"Yes, Sam. I think I do. And I want you to know that I think it's a great idea. A woman needs to know how to defend herself. To stand on her own feet and not depend on a man to protect her. Especially one as little and as... pretty as you."

Today seemed to be my day for compliments. First Steve and now Coach. I wasn't sure exactly how Coach had meant that comment, but I wasn't about to shrug it off. I stepped closer to her and said, "Thank you, Coach. What a nice thing to say! Do you really think I'm pretty?"

I watched her eyes to see which part of me she found the prettiest. The answer was obvious. She caught herself staring at my chest and she looked away quickly.

"You are beautiful, Sam. Don't ever let anyone tell you different." She sounded just like Mrs. Reynolds. For a second, I thought she was going to touch me, but she changed her mind. I'm sure she was thinking about the rules of conduct between students and teachers and how appearances must be maintained.

I was bound by no such rules. I stepped close and gave her a hug, mashing my breasts into her and laying my head briefly on her shoulder. She flinched, but did not push me away. To save her any embarrassment, I let go after a couple of heartbeats.

The look she gave me spoke volumes that would never be printed or said. I had a fleeting idea of trying to get her to shower with the rest of us, but I knew she would never relax enough to consider doing something like that.

She started jogging after the class as they headed off the field toward the gym. I turned the other way to start my two laps before going in myself.

"It's OK, Sam!" she called to me, "Just go on in!"

"Thanks, Coach!" I called back, "But I need the work. Gotta stay strong!"

As I rounded the far end of the field, I saw her go out the gate and out of sight. When I was sure no one was around to see me, I turned on the speed and practiced keeping my feet on the ground. My previous gait was too bouncy for decent speed. I tended to sail when I got going too fast. I could travel like a kangaroo, in long low hops, but that wasn't too controllable. I didn't want to be in mid-hop when a car came around a corner and smacked me like a bug.

When I had got into a low stride with plenty of leg-flex and no bounce, I started working on raw speed. I found I could get going pretty good on straight stretches, but turning was hard. At any good speed, I simply wasn't heavy enough to make sharp turns without sliding all over.

I stopped for a moment and thought about corners. Dad was a race fan and I had seen many races on TV, so I thought I knew something about speed. Some race cars couldn't corner worth a damn either. They needed a high-banked track to keep from sliding off. Some faster cars had big wings to hold them to the road. That wasn't an option for me. Some small cars seemed to corner well, but their drivers slowed way down to do it and then accelerated away in the straights.

I made another lap, this time slowing and leaning in the corners and accelerating on the straightaways. It was maddening to be slowing down all the time, when what I wanted was speed, but I found I could make much better speed overall with this technique. It was really exhilarating to be able to run fast down the length of the field.

On what I decided was to be the last lap, I got going really fast and before I knew it, I was running out of field. I had let my enthusiasm carry me away again and I knew I was going to hit something... and hard. With seconds to go before I smacked into the fence I picked up my feet and flexed my legs. When I hit the ground, I kicked off as hard as I could and went sailing right over the ten foot tall fence surrounding the practice field.

As I crossed the fence with several feet to spare I had a premonition that I had jumped out of the frying pan and into the fire. When I could predict where I would land, I saw that my jump was going to carry me into the small parking lot behind the gym and right into the side of the parked activity bus.

Desperately, I flung out my arms and legs to increase the air resistance on my hurtling form and make me land beside the bus. It looked like it was going to work, but I would still be carrying enough speed to make it impossible to stop before I crashed into it. I could spread-eagle on the ground and try slide under, but that would mean a nasty road-rash. I decided to try to rebound over it.

When my feet hit on the asphalt, I kicked sharply again and flew right up in the air and over the bus. My arc this time was much more vertical and I came down only fifteen feet on the other side of the bus. I did a mid-air flip and came down in a perfect three-point landing from which I walked away casually, trying not to attract attention.

As casual as I tried to appear, I was anything but on the inside. I had built up enough adrenalin to make me want to scream. Like the football players said going into a game, I was 'stoked'. As soon as I got around the far side of the gym, I started skipping. I hadn't done that in years. I felt like I was six again.

When I got to the door that we had come out of looking for our clothes, I grabbed the handle and yanked it open. Too late, I heard the screech of metal that told me the door had been locked. It was a firedoor that opened easily from the inside but was locked from outside. I had ripped the lock apart. I stepped inside and pulled the door shut. I would just have to hope nobody noticed the damage and connected it with me.

Adrenalin, I remembered, augmented normal strength by a significant percentage. Apparently it augmented mine proportionally. I had called on my adrenalin when I made Mr. Morton's souvenir for him. Now I had seen the destruction I could cause if I wasn't careful.

I slipped down the hall and arrived in the locker room just as the showers started going on. Even with all the running, I hadn't broken a serious sweat, but I was sort of dewy, so I stripped out of my gym clothes and grabbed my soap.

When I got to the shower room it was crowded. As I peered into the cloud of steam, I saw three girls waving at me to join them. I went to the one in the back. Her name was Dina and she was in my Algebra class. She seemed to be one of the smarter students and we had been competing for Miss Connor's attention with our questions.

"Hi, Dina!" I said. "You want to be first?"

In answer she held up a soapy washcloth. "No, you first," she said, and I turned around and let her start on my back while I soaped my cloth.

She had a nice touch. I hadn't noticed, but the muscles in my calves and shoulders were pretty bunched up. She got the tension worked out while getting me clean. The sensual side of cleanliness seemed to be catching on. As Dina did my back, I looked around and saw several other pairs of girls engaged in mutual washing. Apparently I had started a fad.

With other people doing it, it seemed a much more natural thing and I didn't get as turned on as I had before. It was still a lot of fun, though and Dina seemed to be enjoying it.

When it was her turn to be washed, Dina became skittish. I tried to be gentle, but she still squeaked when I touched her in sensitive places. When I washed between her legs, she got shaky and started to go weak at the knees. I pushed her up against the tile wall and washed her there again. Her eyelids fluttered and her toes curled and I knew she had had a little orgasm. Poor girl needed to masturbate more.

While I waited for Dina to recover, I checked the wall for peepholes. Either there weren't any or there was too much steam for me to be able to see them. Too bad, I thought. I looked around at the girls in the shower with me and tried to see it from a boy's point of view. I realized that if I could tape us taking a shower, I could make a fortune selling it on the Internet. I reflected that maybe I should get in touch with Shirlene after all. I was looking forward to seeing one of her films on Saturday.

I met Neeka at her car shortly after the last class. As we drove over to River Street and our first Kung Fu class, we talked about my adventure of the day.

"I can't believe that Sara just threw all your clothes out the window like that." She said. "What was she thinking?"

"She was looking for something exciting and kinky to do." I said. "I should have seen it coming when she told us about her sister daring her to do stuff. It looks like the Hendersons have made this sort of thing a hobby."

Neeka was quiet for a while. I didn't need to be able to read her mind to know that she was thinking about what we had done and wished that she had been there to participate.

"You're right." She said with a grin. "I wish I had been there. The four of you, lined up like captured fugitives, begging for Steve Wojeski's cock — that just makes me so hot!"

"We were so excited by the time he came along that if he hadn't suggested it, one of us surely would have. Have you ever done anything like that?"

"Put myself in a situation where I might be caught naked? I guess. I think that's a common enough fantasy that everyone has done something like it at some time or other. I've done some fairly safe stuff — sunbathing in the back yard. Getting naked in a guy's car. I've even posted some pictures of myself on the Net. But I never put myself in a position where I was so totally committed like that. I mean, anything could have happened!"

"And did!" I said. "I got fucked by the biggest stud at school. And he wants to date me!"

"Yeah, and you want to kick his butt. He shouldn't have laughed at you like that."

"Well, it's just that he had been such a gentleman up to that point. I was... I am... I do like the guy. A lot, actually. It takes a lot of class to basically rape you and then apologize for not taking more time. But I can still hear him laughing at the idea that I might be his equal."

"Must be grating to know that you are really his superior."

"I try not to think of it like that. He didn't... couldn't know. It was just that automatic assumption of superiority - grrrrr!"

"Easy there, tiger! Down girl!"

I took several deep breaths and tried to calm down. I didn't want to walk into class with a load of adrenalin going. Someone might get hurt.

"So you plan to whip his ass." Neeka said. "That'll teach him."

I thought about that for a bit. She was right. Satisfaction would feel good for a short time. But it would ruin any relationship I might have had with Steve. The worst part was he wouldn't learn anything from it except that I could beat him. He would know I was special and he might hate me for humiliating him. I could be making an enemy and giving him a weapon to use against me, all in one ill-considered act.

"The Sword of Justice has two edges." Neeka said.

"You're practicing your Chinese philosophy. But you're right. I have to be very, very careful using my abilities in social situations. As much as I want to pin Steve to the mat and show him who the weaker sex really is, I see that that's not the right way to handle this."

"So what are you going to do?" She asked. It was rhetorical. She would know what I was going to do as soon as I made up my mind to do it.

We were just passing a health-food store when Neeka pulled over and parked. I was out of the car and walking into the store when I realized that she had just reacted to a decision I had made in real-time. No discussion. No clarification. Just my thought and her action. I bought several energy bars in a variety of flavors and went back to the car. Having a mind-reading chauffeur was certainly going to have some tactical advantages. I still wasn't looking forward to her doing it on that bike, though. The only thing going through my mind then would most likely be "Slow Down!"

Master Li taught classes in an old mattress factory on River Street that looked like it might be the oldest building in town. It was a big brick place with incredibly high ceilings and thick wood floors that had been patched and sanded, but not stained or waxed. The acoustics were terrible. Sounds echoed all over.

Li was a Chinese man of indeterminate age who was immediately impressive because he made no superfluous movements. He had no tics or twitches. He did not cough or sneeze. He neither scratched nor rubbed. I watched him for several minutes before I could even be sure that he blinked. During those times when he was not moving with a purpose, she stood as still as a statue. When he did move, it was with such grace and economy that he always seemed to be dancing. I had never met anyone who had such complete control over himself.

Neeka and I were part of a class of ten students. The others were a mix of bored housewives looking for a way to fill their afternoons, college students who had got interested in Kung Fu from the movies, and a couple of retired men who were looking for a fun way to keep fit and flexible in their later years. To these last two, Master Li suggested that they switch to a Tai Chi class as more appropriate for their needs.

When he asked me what I wanted to get out of the class, I said simply, "Control." He looked at me intently for a beat and then moved on to Neeka, who said, "I need to keep up with her," and hooked a finger at me.

Even though he reacted the same way to each of our responses, I got the impression that Neeka and I had intrigued him. Maybe that was just wishful thinking, because Li was the kind of person who was so impressive that you just felt compelled to try to impress him back. I thought that capacity to motivate probably made him a better teacher.

Li explained a bit about the history of Kung Fu in general and the origin of Jeet Kune Do specifically. Most of this I already knew from having researched it after Bambi had signed us up for the class. He told us that it was an eight-week course, after which we would be invited to progress to an intermediate course if he felt we had met the goals of the basic course. He explained that there was no passing or failing, that we could retake the basic course as much as we liked until we qualified to move on to the next level. He did not mention an advanced course. I assumed that that was one of those 'if you have to ask... ' kind of things.

He told us that we would be doing a lot of stretching and flexibility exercises, followed by strength training and fighting techniques. To illustrate the kind of flexibility that could be achieved, he held his hand above his head with his arm straight up and swung his leg up and kicked the palm of his hand.

I knew I might regret it, but I immediately tried to imitate him, I was successful, too; except I hit my fingers instead of my palm and I darn near dislocated the ring finger on my right hand. I then had to stand there pulling my finger while Master Li looked at me with his usual no-expression-at-all look.