On the List

Generally, I think these kinds of disclaimers are silly. But this is my thirty-first story here, and I know the rules, so for my more squeamish readers: there

are

underaged people in this story (I mean, it takes place in a high school), but none of them have any sex. So cool your jets and read on!

* * *

The fuss rose just as I was really getting into it with Jason.

His sneering, Billy Idol-looking face was just starting to look smug, as well it should: I'd finally managed to get all the way down his cock. In itself, I knew, this was a minor victory: I'm on the smaller side, and Jason was not particularly poorly-endowed. I should have guessed as much, the way he'd looked when he'd decked Mike Floren outside the Senior Center over near the park: he'd been about to smash the kid's nose in, and I'd been gushing like a fountain as the crowd jostled me and I'd added him, then and there, to my sexual menu.

I only fucked bad boys.

But usually, the ones who were good at fighting were also a little too overloaded in the testosterone department, which meant a bigger schlong, which meant I'd need to devote time and effort to foreplay. And hell, I'm not anti-foreplay; I enjoy getting my cunt munched as much as the next girl. But sometimes you just want to hop on a dick and get it going, and that hadn't been possible with Jason. He was eighteen, huge, and excited, so supplemental efforts were required.

I'd started by letting him gnaw on my boobs, which he'd proven unsurprisingly bad at. We'd moved on to my cunt, shaved bare since Audrey convinced me it would be good for cunnilingis. "Guys don't want to go down on a hairy twat," she'd explained patiently, and that seemed to make sense. But Jason hadn't been any good at that either, so I'd hawked up a loogie, spat on his meat, and then begun the painful but familiar process of easing myself down onto him, and I'd finally succeeded when the commotion began.

I'd taken a look down at his manky pubes tickling my smooth mound, and I'd be lying if I didn't say there'd been a little thrill there; I like a deep dick. I'd just grabbed his hand and moved it up onto my body, planting it on my own right boob, when the shuffle of feet in the hallway outside the faculty bathroom and a low buzz of conversation had seeped through our locked door.

"Dude!" It was a wasted voice, a stoner voice, just outside the door. "It's a fight, man, I'm telling you. On school grounds!"

Jason and I had stared at each other, both of us just then starting to breathe hard. His eyes were on fire; he didn't get very much pussy. "A fight," he'd managed, his eyes glued to my tits.

"Hey!" I smacked him on the side of the head. "My eyes are up here, dumbass." But it wasn't working; the moment, as little magic as it had ever had, had passed. I sighed. "Look, this isn't working for me. I'll come over to your house later and we can try again."

"No!" He was not stupid. He understood, at least, that once you've got your dick in a girl, it's a bad sign when she wants off. He poked his hips pathetically upward when I put my feet on the ground and went to rise off him. Coward. I patted his belly.

"Yes." I'm known for not taking bullshit. He'd find that out right... now. "I'll come by later."

"Dude!" His penis came slurping out, and by that time I was already shrugging into my bra. "Call me?"

"No need. I told you I'd come by." I shrugged and scanned around for my underwear. "Unless you've got other plans?" It was a rhetorical question; I wasn't going to hang around for an answer. There was a fight!

"I... well..." He shrugged. "Half-Life."

I glared down at him, pulling my pants back on. "Jason," I began conversationally, "If you'd rather play Half-Life with Matt than fuck me, I'm not about to beg." I shrugged. Easy-peasey. He was sitting naked on the toilet, his dick waving vaguely and his pants down around his ankles. Like many first-time visitors to the faculty bathroom, he'd been surprised that it was just a bathroom. Like they expected a couch, maybe, or some breath mints.

I zipped up my jeans. The commotion outside was still going on. "See you around seven," I told him evenly, and then I was gone, my backpack over one shoulder. I didn't lock the door behind me, and off in the near distance I could see Mr Jarvis from math class, heading this way, frowning; he'd be in for a big surprise if Jason couldn't get his dick packed away and out the door, and soon.

Oh well. He was due for another suspension, anyway.

I joined the crowd surging toward the track, where the fight was allegedly taking place. "Who's fighting?" I asked someone, a sophomore? Who knew. They all looked young to me.

"I dunno." He shrugged. "I heard it's a nerd-fight."

I felt my eyes go wide. A nerd-fight! Those didn't happen much at this school. "Heard?" I asked skeptically; useful things, sophomores. Not generally as clueless as freshmen, but not yet acting like assholes, either. "Who's your source?"

"Huh? Oh. I dunno. I just heard it somewhere."

Ah yes. Sophomores did have their limitations. So I began looking around for a junior, though usually they can be assholes. But toward the end of the year a few of them are legal, especially if they were held back a year like me. Fucking parents. I was about to turn nineteen, and here I was still stuck in high school. "Hey there, Kevin Chung!" I called, my voice with that little curl in at the end that hooked guys without any difficulty. "What's up?" Kevin was one of those eighteen-year-old juniors.

"Oh. Uh, hi Kelly." He knew me from basketball, where I'd been cheerleading for years. He scanned me quickly, leaning back to check out my ass. Those were the days when it was fashionable for girls to wear tight, low-slung jeans with our thongs showing at the top of the crack.

I am very fashionable.

"I think it's an argument that got out of hand. They just started whaling on each other in the upper field and now they're on their way down to the track." He was still staring. "You look nice today, Kel."

"Thanks." My smile is legendary, a dazzling full-teeth frontal attack. Mom and Dad had paid a lot for those teeth. I threw in some eye action for Kevin. "You're not so bad yourself. I heard it was a couple of nerds?"

He shrugged. "No fucking clue. I'm just going along with the crowd, you know?" I did. The sea of humanity was about to reach the little fence overlooking the track, so whatever Kevin could tell me would be out of date soon anyway. I spotted my friend Lexi up ahead, so I dropped Kevin like a dirty tampon and drifted over toward the fence. It was packed solid, but I'm fuckin' Kelly Pinsent; people make room for me.

"Hey, bitch." Lexi leaned toward me as I pulled up, doing that air-kiss thing she'd picked up from that TV show. "'Sup?"

"Sexy Lexi." I wedged myself in between a pair of kids and the two of us leaned on the low fence, staring. "What do you think? The tall one?"

"Nah." She liked fucking bad boys too, but she didn't get nearly as much dick as I did. "The short one actually seems to know what the fuck he's doing." She was wasted, I could tell at once, those gorgeous Mexican eyes she'd gotten from her mother all glassy and shit. She shrugged, her arm moving against mine. "I dunno."

I had my hand in her purse before she even got the last word in, seeking whatever she had in there. With her tweaking and everyone around us staring at the track, I could have pulled a fucking foot-long dildo out of her purse and nobody would notice. Least of all Lexi. I squinted. "Dude. Is that Chad fucking Pfeiffer?"

Of course it was; I never asked questions without knowing the answers.

"That is, indeed, Chad fucking Pfeiffer," she replied with slow, stoned awe. We watched a moment in silence. "Dude. I didn't know he fought."

"Yeah," but he was, and with all the maniacal fierceness of a cornered weasel on steroids. He was really laying into the littler one, a kid I vaguely recognized from some econ class last year. I didn't know his name, obviously; he'd sat in the front of the room and raised his hand, so clearly he wasn't my type. Still wasn't; he was getting his ass beat by Chad fucking Pfeiffer. My hand found the prescription bottle in Lexi's purse. "The short one is Chad's bitch."

The fight was going on far in the distance, with the tennis courts and the driveway in between, and still we could hear the screams as Chad got the other guy down at last, and then started putting the boot in. "Ouch," Lexi giggled.

"Yeah." I was juicing up nicely. Nothing at all gets me off like watching a dude pummel another dude. Even Chad fucking Pfeiffer; I'd known him forever, and he'd failed to make any impression at all. That's not normal with me, but then who knew he could stomp a guy so easily. "I'd fuck him," I said casually. "What's the fight about?"

"You kidding? Look how hard he's whupping him." She was getting restless as I transferred her pill bottle to my pocket. "It has to be about a girl."

"Bullshit," I countered. "I always assumed he was, like, gay." Not really, but I try not to make a habit of agreeing with people. It makes them think you're a pushover. "I'll bet they kiss and make up afterward. Then he fucks him hard in the ass." The kid wedged into the fence next to me was staring at us with her mouth wide open. "What?" I demanded; I don't often fight, but I'll be damned if I'll take shit from anyone. "Got a problem, you stupid fucking whore?" I had no idea who she was, and that wasn't going to change anytime soon; she ran away like the scared little peasant she was. I shook my head; she'd made me miss the fight!

Things were breaking up now, mostly because a little squadron of teachers was flying onto the field, shouting; the dictator impulse is never far away from teachers, I swear to god. Kids were suddenly everywhere, fleeing like they'd just been drinking when the cops arrived. The littler kid lay on the ground, groaning, clawing at the tufts of grass to try to drag himself away; a few feet off stood Chad fucking Pfeiffer with his hands on his hips like some kind of uncertain fairy, all the fight gone out of him, breathing hard even as the assistant principal Mrs Evakian came up and slapped her hand on his heaving chest. I laughed; like he was going to do anything, anyway. The battle was over, and in spite of Chad's generally bitchlike demeanor now, I thought about the fury with which he'd kicked at his defeated opponent and I almost had an orgasm, right there by the fence. Swear to god.

Lexi was tapping me on the shoulder like some kind of woodpecker. "Let's go, bitch. I got stuff to do."

I thought about slapping the shit out of her; she was so high she wouldn't remember it, probably, but then I thought better of it. After all, she was my best friend. We walked away, her a little unsteadily. "Chad fucking Pfeiffer," I chanted quietly. "He's going on The List, Lex."

"Yeah." She was staring into the sky, seeing who knew what? "Mine too." I did smack her then; after all, I said it first.

* * *

The List was not all that hard to get on, if I'm being honest. All it took was a couple days' vacation from Mrs Evakian, which were easy to come by if you fought a lot and then refused to kiss her feet and lick her twat. Like she'd be into that, the big old fucking dyke. But still; boys had been known to talk themselves out of suspensions, and those were not the kinds of boys I was into. No, I wanted the guys who could give two shits about getting suspended; no, actually, the ones who were proud of it.

Chad Pfeiffer was going to get suspended, without a doubt. The way he'd slammed the shit out of that kid? No way was he sweet-talking himself out of that, even though he was head of the debate team or the chess club or Mock UN or something, or maybe all of them; I couldn't have cared less. He'd been an absolute animal in that fight, and I was already trying to think of ways I could get him to be an animal in my pussy.

I'm not into meatheads, the kind of mindless balls of doughy flesh with tiny eyes and even tinier brains. I mean, don't get me wrong: I'll fuck them, too, but most of the time I like the wiry ones, the scrawny ones, the ones who know how to win a fight with grit and desperation and just a little bit of nastiness. I like a dirty fighter, a scrapper who'll gouge out the other guy's eyes or scrunch the shit out of his balls. Guys like that, as I'd learned the night of my eighteenth birthday, are always great in bed.

Or, more often, out of it; these were also the kind of guys who are ready to fuck anywhere, anytime, in any position. Various bad boys'd had me all over town, swear to god. Cars were easy: I'd taken dick in the front seats, back seats, over the hood, up on the trunk, from behind, while underneath, riding... you name it. I'd fucked on nearly every floor of the school, always when I was supposed to be in class. I'd given it up in broom closets, janitors' storage areas, bathrooms, offices, locker rooms. I'd done it to the smells of shit and detergent and floor cleaner. Boys had dicked me down in their dads' offices, in their moms' laundry rooms, in the shower. Once, I'd even bent over one of the picnic tables at Hunnert Park, the one over by the playground, gambling I could make the guy cum before anyone showed up to use the jungle gym.

I had; it had felt fucking amazing, an orgasm for the ages.

Made me wonder where Chad fucking Pfeiffer would take me. Like I said, I knew him well (or thought I did, anyway) and I'd never have thought he'd make The List. He and I had been seated together for years, him being a Pf and me being a Pi, last-name-wise. I'd never really noticed anything about him, other than maybe his height; he was a tall, tall drink of water. Oh, and he was on the swim team. Other than that?

Nada.

He had nice hair, sandy, usually pretty short. He had eyes, but damned if I could tell you what color they were. Did he wear glasses? Maybe? I thought not, but I couldn't be sure. I wondered vaguely whether he'd be a virgin, and reckoned he had about a 15% chance of having scored before. That's 15% maximum; probably more like ten. He was a senior, eighteen, so I assumed he must have at least gotten a handjob at some point. That was almost a given for twenty-first century high school seniors.

Wasn't it?

I got a better report the next day from one of Audrey's old boyfriends, Ryan, who was all excited because he could vote and do jury duty now. "It was crazy, man." We were ditching school at Lexi's house, smoking. We did that a lot, and it was one of the reasons I was careful to keep my grades up: even if you ditched a lot, Mrs Evakian usually didn't fuck with you if you were in the top 15% of the class. And, of course, I was. "I saw the whole thing on the upper field, like, before they got down to the track."

My eyes narrowed through the smoke. Ryan was pretty hot, but I had no interest in him at all. Not that he cared; Lexi was sucking his dick at that moment. "Who'd you say the other guy was? The little guy?"

"Zach?" He leaned his head back against the wall, sighing deeply at the excellence of Lexi's blowjob. "Yeah, Lex, like that. That's fucking great." He took another toke. "Zach Norris? I used to buy geometry proofs off him a couple years ago. I think he got, like, almost a perfect score on the SAT."

"Math." Lexi popped off his dick just long enough to add her little bit of wisdom. "Just the math part. He sucks at English."

"Right." Ryan waited while Lexi got back to work. He was long, I'd give him that. I was at the other end of the bed, in my underwear; it was a warm day. "So, by the time I got there they were already fighting. Like, past the point of no return; little Zach was getting in on him, tae-kwon-do style, but there's that lanky fuck Chad, just swinging away like a faggot." He laughed, spluttering a little as the smoke drifted into his lungs.

"Wow." Lexi was really going. "So, like, how'd they get down to the track?"

"That fucking queer Evakian was on her way." He shrugged, his hand cupping Lexi's tit in that casual, friendly way kids do sometimes. "So, like, Zach was pummeling Chad, blood and everything. And I totally saw this with my own eyes, Kel: that's when Chad reached down, grabs Zach's balls and, like, squeezes."

"Fuck." My eyes were wide. I wasn't even paying attention when he handed me the joint. "That's so hot."

Ryan's eyes narrowed; he had his own ideas on the hotness of guys tugging other guys' gonads, but whatever. Lexi came off again. "Chad plays water polo," she explained, our own personal Greek fucking chorus. "Water polo guys do that shit." Then straight back down onto that thick, two-tone cock. I watched with professional curiosity; it never hurts to check out how your friends give head.

"Oh." I filed that water polo bit away for later, but who cared? That was the sort of dirty fighting that got me going. "I wouldn't have thought Chad Pfeiffer would be into that kind of trick, I'll be honest."

"Anyway," Ryan drawled on, blowing two snaky little streams of smoke out his nose, "Zach goes down, screaming like a little bitch. Chad takes off, and then the craziest thing: Zach gets up and runs after him. Like, he was completely pissed. Completely. He was about ready to rip Chad's head off. Ouch," he added, and Lexi calmed herself down. He continued. "They go running down by the tennis courts, and then Chad turned around and fucking hammered Zach." He shrugged. "Looked like a lucky shot."

"Well, luck or not," I said thoughtfully, "he sure followed up on it. Did you see him, with the kicks? I heard he knocked two teeth out." I cackled. "He was, like, tap-dancing on Zach's head."

Ryan nodded, then frowned. "I'm not sure that metaphor works, Kelly."

"No, like, he was... like, tap-dancing..." I was having trouble explaining. Shit, it was hot in here!

"He was stomping him, bitch." Ah. Wisdom from Lexi, that little fucktart. She was up off him again, keeping him warm with her hand. "Tap-dancers don't stomp."

"Oh." I didn't care, really. I took another drag. "So, like, what kind of dance has stomping? Is that the foxtrot?" I giggled. "The waltz?"

"Hey." Ryan sounded slightly irritated. "My penis is getting cold." Lexi, looking bored, returned to her duty. "Whatever. So, yeah. That's how it went down." A door slammed from downstairs. I saw Ryan squint at the clock by the TV, doing the math. "I hope that's not your dad."

But no, the feet coming up the steps weren't those of Lexi's big, shambling father. "Jesus. It smells like the school bathroom up here!" Audrey shot through the door like a bullet, watching disinterestedly as Lexi gobbled her ex-boyfriend's cock. "Hi, Ryan," she said neutrally. They'd dated maybe a year and a half.

"'Sup, Aud." At least he had the grace to look a little embarrassed. "Long time."

"If you say so." She'd cheated on him, but she always did that. She blamed him, for some reason. She looked at me, lounging there in my undies. "Nice outfit. What, are you next or something?"

"Bitch." I lashed out to kick her, but missed. "It's hot as shit up here." I held out the joint, and Audrey grabbed it without thinking. "Besides, it's only Ryan. He's not getting anywhere near this." I cupped my pussy and jerked hard, Ryan squinting at it critically.

"Yeah, well," he replied noncommittally, but I noticed he didn't look away, either. Not that he should: Glen Avery High's got a number of hot cheerleaders, but I'm easily the best-looking. I'd been incredible up until a couple of years ago: toned, tight, fit, all that shit. But then I'd grown tits, and I'd moved from incredible all the way up to fucking stupendous.

And it's not just me saying that, either. I've had guys tell me the same. I mean, people know when they're hot, and I knew it. So I arched my back a little bit for Ryan, giving him a secret little smile, loving the fact that he was thinking about me while some other chick had his cock in her mouth. Fucking Lexi. She was one of my best friends, but that was only because she knew her place: taking dick from other girls' castoffs.