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.
