(Author's Note: All characters, whether described as such or not, are all over 18 years of age. This is a continuing series of fantasies harbored since my own high school years. I welcome any and all feedback. It's why I write! Enjoy.)
Chapter 03: Kim
"Ah, ah, ah, ah, Staying Alive, Staying Alive! Ah, ah, ah, ah, Staying Aliiiiiiiive!"
If only he had some retro bell bottom pants, Rick Thomas thought, as he strutted down the middle of the Valleyview Mall, his internal soundtrack pumping out the smooth styling's of the Bee Gees. Then, his transformation would be complete. It was a Saturday, a week removed from the Friday night orgy with Amy, Leanne and Beth that had transformed his life forever. He had skulked into school on Monday, as normal, but his head full of the glorious time spent with the three nubile teens. And that not a month past his very first sexual experience with two older girls!
He noticed the whispering in the hallways, but that was de rigueur for the 18 year old boy. Someone was always ridiculing him in some way or the other. However, this, his senior year, had been markedly better, what with the maturing his body had undergone over the summer and, of course, his defloration at the hands of the "college chicks" and his four-way with his classmates. He hadn't expected anyone to find out about those events, the girls "swearing" him to silence in each case, but the Pony Express of the Wild West had nothing on teenage girls!
The rumors about Rick the Dick spread like wildfire! By Tuesday, it seemed that every girl he passed in the hall had a smile for him. On Wednesday, he had to pick up at least a dozen pencils "dropped" by girls in class and as he would rise up from the floor, he was always greeted by a delicious view down a neckline as the dropper reached for her pencil and thanked him with a big smile. Thursday he was forced to walk from class to class clutching his books at his waist as several senior girls were discovering how apparently good their pens tasted, all the while staring at him hotly. And just yesterday, he had to wrench open the "jammed" lockers of several girls who assisted him by reaching around him from behind, their soft breasts boring holes in his back. At the rate he was filling up tube socks at night, he would be well served to buy stock in Fruit of the Loom.
So here he was in uncharted territory on Saturday. The mall! Rick never went to the mall, a popular hangout for teens. Well, he did go once a year with his mom to buy school clothes, but he insisted that they do this on a Wednesday night in order to minimize his exposure to his contemporaries, but never by himself. As he cockily walked down the middle, his head held high for once in his life, he could see the clumps of girls whispering and nodding his way. He even heard a "looking good Rick" from behind him and it was all he could do not to spin around and "shoot" the speaker with twin hand pistols and offer a sly wink. "Would that be cool?" he thought. "How do the cool kids interact? Do I just go up and talk to the girls or wait for them to approach me?" He sat down at the fountain area to ponder this.
For all his external new cock sure attitude, Rick was still painfully shy. Two glorious nights were not going to erase 18 years of reclusiveness. Apparently his God given endowment was opening doors to potential new relationships with girls and he wondered how to use this to his advantage. As nice as this was, he still longed for friends, not just fuck buddies. The sneers of the guys at school had been replaced by looks of awe and in some cases jealousy. He wished he had a guy friend he could ask some questions of. He heard a commotion and turned his head.
Approaching the common area was Blake Reeves, senior starting quarterback, class president and all around stud. Now there, Rick thought, there's a guy who's got all the answers. He watched as Blake and his usual posse of "dudes" shoved their way through a clump of junior high boys unlucky enough to be caught in their path. Now normally, Rick would have fled the scene like a black man at a Klan rally, but today something made him stand and lock eyes with Blake. Maybe, just maybe, he could use his newfound popularity to insinuate himself into the group. Wouldn't that be the coolest, Rick thought, hanging with the football jocks! No athlete himself, but maybe just being around them might take his cool quotient to yet another level, he thought. But then again, Blake's face would be the one he would undoubtedly picture, when years later, he might find himself pouring his angst out in therapy. The husky boy was often the lead tormentor of any game of "Let's humiliate Rick". He started to sit back down, but Blake had noticed him and elbowed his buddies, raising his Big Gulp to point out Rick. They headed his way.
"Hey Rick! How's it hanging?" Blake said, walking up to him. The boys around him all giggled and laughed with Blake's over emphasis on "hanging".
Rick gulped nervously and shifted his weight over his feet. Smiling nervously, he ran a suddenly clammy hand through his close cropped brown hair. "Hey guys. What's going on?"
"Nuttin'," Blake replied. "But you know all about 'nuttin' don't you Rick?"
Rick jammed his hands in his jeans and looked at the laughing eyes of the group. He was slowly realizing he'd had a very bad idea. This was confirmed as he watched Blake take the top off his over size soda and then unceremoniously dump its contents on Rick's head. The icy liquid soaked his hair and clothes, puddling at his feet. Rick had just enough time to inexplicitly think, "Well, he hardly drank any of that," before Blake crushed the Styrofoam cup against Rick's chest and shoved him. Rick took a surprised step backward as he felt every eye in the mall turn to the scene.
Blake leaned close to Rick's face and he could smell the bacon, egg and cheese stink of his breath. "Look here, geek. Don't for a second think you are anything more than you were last week, last month or last year. You're still a freak. The fact that you are deformed only confirms it. So why don't you keep that deformity to yourself like you have all your life? If I even hear of you talking to another girl in school, I'll personally relieve you of that deformity. Hear me punk? Take that monster to the queens on Canal Street if you've got to stick it in something." The hyenas all cackled as they, to a person, all managed to brush hard against Rick on their way past him.
Rick could feel hot tears welling in his eyes and his inability to stop them only made them come faster. The junior highers that had witnessed his humiliation openly laughed and pointed. As he looked wildly about, the sticky drink soaking every inch of his being, he noticed how the eyes of his classmates, the same ones that had moments before looked at him with awe or lust, now found anywhere to look but at him. Most turned away. At least, he thought, wiping his eyes, their not joining in for once. He fled the scene clumsily, almost slipping down in the puddle drink surrounding him.
Rick hit the exit doors at top speed eager to get anywhere but here. It suddenly occurred to him that his mom had dropped him off and wouldn't be back for another two hours. Perfect, he thought, where can I go now? He spied the Wal-Mart across the parking lot and thought he might hide out there. As he stepped off the curb, his eyes glued to the asphalt, a black Camaro screeched up right in front of him. He yelped and jumped backwards, certain it was Blake and his cronies back for more.
"Get in."
That wasn't Blake's voice, but it was his car. He bent hesitantly and looked into the car. Even worse, it was Blake's girlfriend Kim Witt! She flung a hand towel at him which he caught defensively. "Mop yourself off first," she said as she leaned over to open the door. Rick soaked up what liquid hadn't already dried to a sticky mess on him and dropped the towel to the ground. "Well? What are you waiting on?" Kim said, racing the rumbling engine. Seeing the look of fear on his face, Kim frowned and shook her head. "Don't worry. This isn't some set up. Get in before someone sees us!" What do I have to lose, Rick thought climbing into the car, except for maybe 3 years of orthodontia if Blake saw him. He shut the door and Kim peeled away from the curb, the tires squealing.