James Rios's parents had arrived home seven days ago, so he'd been preoccupied. He'd come to school everyday in the morning, but he was so cranky about it. Perhaps they'd grounded him. Taken away his sex toys. Hired a guard to make sure no one was able to visit him and he wasn't allowed to go out. Or maybe it wasn't that at all. Sherry didn't really know that much about his parents. She'd met his dad twice, his mom once. Briefly. They had an even icier aura than he did, despite their surface level charisma.
She didn't know what was going on because he wouldn't even talk to her. She was just a toy after all. An innocent, gullible, stupid girl. A sexual fantasy that was now fulfilled and worth nothing more. He'd stopped sitting directly behind her and opted for the very back of the classroom, his face in shadows underneath the hood of his hoodie. She didn't know what to make of it. It hurt her. A lot.
But simultaneously, his touch replayed in her mind constantly. She could think of nothing else. It was the same thing each day since his parents had gotten back last Wednesday. She came in to Mrs. Ross's classroom, the sight of him already seated sending shivers straight to the hollows of her stomach. His eyes weren't on her. Again, a lack of attention that she was not used to at all coming from him. It truly made her feel like some discarded ragdoll. But the sweaty poundings would invade her mind. All she could do was tear her eyes from him and take her seat, her pussy automatically flooding with the memory, against her own will.
His gorgeous cock, its head leaking pre-cum mere centimeters from her face while her wrists were confined by metal. The feeling of his hands holding her hips against his aroused body. His hold so secure. So safe. So wanted. The look on her face in the boys' bathroom mirror, as he pushed his finger against her throat, his cock twitching in her. Him on both ends. Even the sensation of his balls slapping against her was unforgettable.
What was she doing?
He was making her insane.
"Sherry, are you paying attention?" Mrs. Ross asked.
"Um..." Sherry's face reddened. About ten seconds of silence passed.
Wesley Darc, who was sitting beside her today, jumped in. "Oh it's my fault. I was asking her about Ryan." It was a blatant lie, and Mrs. Ross knew it too.
Still, Sherry smiled at him thankfully. Mrs. Ross nodded, unimpressed, and repeated her last set of instructions before droning on for another ten minutes until class was dismissed.
As everyone gathered up their things and chatter filled the room, Sherry just sat there with her forehead in her hands. What was wrong with her? Was she so much of an attention whore that going seven long days without speaking to either Ryan or James could wreck her this badly?
She sniffed and got out her compact mirror. She was sure her eyes were red. She opened the mirror and dropped it almost immediately, startled by the reflection of James standing behind her chair. It clattered against her desk. She stood up quickly, grabbing her backpack and books and bolting out of the classroom.
After she put things away in her locker, her cell phone started to ring. The screen said Evil, which was the name she'd changed James to last night. She answered it on her way to the girls' washroom, a tingle in her already dripping cunt.
"What is this, Sherry, a game of cat and mouse?" His voice was a growl.
"Who are you?" Sherry replied casually, as she slipped into a stall. She needed to change her underwear. She'd learned to keep a spare now and that was pretty handy.
"Don't pretend you deleted my number."
"I'm mad at you."
"What are you doing right now? Tell me the truth," he said.
Sherry hung up. The truth? She had her hand against her folds, gently humping against herself. But this was ridiculous, she realized. She stopped and wiped herself down, before putting on the spare pair of underwear. Then she washed her hands and opened the washroom door, almost walking into James's chest.
"You idiot," she snapped, but before she could do anything else, he ran his hand in between her thighs and grabbed her ass cheek aggressively before sliding his fingers over her denim covered crotch. Sherry gasped, scrambling away from him. "This is sexual harassment, James."
"You're technically correct."
Sherry wanted to tell him to fuck off. But she had never even said that word before. Living with a kid sister, she'd always been careful with her language.
James continued, "Do you miss my tongue in your mouth?"
He watched as Sherry's face turned red. He loved how much control he had.
"Does time apart make your pussy grow fonder?" he asked, raising an eyebrow, his lips in a smirk.
"Stop trying to confuse me," Sherry said. She'd wanted it to come out strong, but her voice was barely a whisper. "You're...the worst. It's like you have two personalities."
She turned towards the stream of students rushing to get home, silently praying that no one had heard James's lewd words.
"Don't you know the things Wesley says about you? I'm not the worst at all."
Sherry paused, standing in the hallway. She was just so tired. Sleepless nights, trying to get ahold of Ryan but not being able to, trying to focus on homework but just always so distracted by...need. And James not replying to any messages. Was this his twisted version of revenge?
Ryan should've been back by now but he wasn't and his parents weren't answering their phones either. They probably took an impromptu vacation amidst hockey negotiations. Or maybe they were dealing with a contract issue. Who knows.
"You're such a poor little baby," James said, and he grabbed her wrist to make her face him, his fingers unbelievably tight over her bone. "If you wanted something these past few days, why didn't you come up to me? Why didn't you come to see me?"
"I texted you and messaged you."
"Not good enough."
Sherry laughed, amazed. "You're not my boyfriend. We're friends. We were friends."
"So much resentment," he enthused. "You can't function without someone kissing the floor you walk on, can you, princess?" His light tone was tinged with anger.
Her wrist was locked in his iron grip, but instead of struggling she took a step toward him, gathering her courage. She lowered her voice. "Fine. Tell me about the things Wesley says about me. Tell me all about how much better you are. To what end? What do you want, James? What am I to you?"
She saw James's jaw clench, as if he was resisting something. He opened his mouth, glanced at her and closed his mouth. He let go of her, and her arm dropped to her side.
It seemed like everyone wanted Sherry. As soon as Ryan left, his own teammates were throwing comments around the locker room. And James had some friends who were on the team. Friends who happened to share the sordid details one night. They wondered how that pretty face of hers would look with jizz on it. They said she was Wesley's dream girl. That he had a picture of her in a bikini on his phone. That he described just how he'd tie her up if he ever got the chance. How hot it'd be to film her having sex.
