*Author's Note: Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.
Disclaimers: Yes, I need an editor; no, I do not want an editor. If this fact bothers you that much kindly quit reading now. Yes, there's too many people to keep track of. Yes it jumps around too much. Yes, it's too long. Yes, it's too short. Yes, it's in the wrong category. Yes, this is stupid shit, and yes, I suck.
For everyone that has not hit the backspace key, I hope you enjoy this little tale.
*
She took the top tray out of the box of cordial cherries and peeled back the cellophane film. The first one was the perfect bell shape, signifying the Christmas Season. She placed it on her desk and again verified that she was alone.
She bent her head toward the milk chocolate treat and opened her mouth. She stretched her lips taut, covering her teeth as she slid her lips over the treat.
"Mm-hmm," she purred as her tongue now tickled the indention at the very top of the chocolate shell, the small mark that the confectioner's mold had left on the treat.
She tickled that small indention, then ran her tongue all around the dome shaped shell. Her tongue swirled around the very base of it.
Then she sat back, lifting the chocolate covered cherry from the desk's surface. One hand reached down, cupping her pubic mound through her denim shorts. This simple act always created such a heat in her pussy.
She lapped at the chocolate treat as if it was the head of a cock. Gently closing her mouth around the delicious, slowly dissolving treat, she again lapped at the small indentation, trying to force her tongue into it.
She moaned again when her ministrations did pierce the dimple. At once, her mouth began to fill with the sugar and cherry syrup mixture. The texture was similar to the seminal fluid that leaked from her boyfriend's cock when she sucked him.
She widened the hole with her tongue, seeking out the small cherry deep within the treat. There it was, imbedded in the cream.
"Mm-hmm, come for me, Baby," she murmured as her tongue emptied the treat, leaving the remnants of the shell for her to chew, then swallow.
"Ain't never seen nobody take long as you eat them damned things," her mother teased, playfully pulling on Luanne's long blonde hair.
"Why they my favorite," Luanne smiled as she peeled back the cellophane to get to the next treat.
With her mother right there, Luanne did not put the treat on the desk top. She used her hand to bring the treat to her mouth.
She did chance a quick lick around the tip, right where it started to flare out before again sliding her lips over the
"RRRIIIPPP!" And Mrs. Ortega had jerked the notebook away from Todd Moore.
A few of the students tittered, but the majority of the students were too bored in Mrs. Ortega's Earth Sciences class to care. Nearly all of the students in the class, in the school had no interest in Todd Moore; he was just another student at Lloyd M. Bentsen High School in Sweet Oak, Texas.
In an effort to embarrass Todd, Mrs. Ortega took a breath to read aloud Todd's latest poem, a sonnet he'd composed extolling his love for Luanne Holmes. But as she scanned the words, her eyes went from mean little slits to wide eyed astonishment.
"Mr. Hooper's office! Now!" she shrilled at the red faced Todd Moore.
To the rest of the class, she barked out for them to answer the questions on page two hundred fifty six. Then she marched out of the classroom, toward the principal's office.
"Jesus, whatever," more than one student grumbled.
Rory Smith convinced the majority of the students to get every single question wrong. For many, he would not have had to persuade them; they'd get the questions wrong on their own.
Adam Hooper sighed as his secretary informed him of Todd Moore and Mrs. Ortega's appearance.
"You! Sit there; I'll speak with him first," the woman snarled, piggish eyes squinting in anger.
"Damn, Todd, what'd you do this time?" Miss Tripp asked when Mrs. Ortega slammed the door of the principal's office.
The eighteen year old boy shrugged his shoulders, smiling at the attractive woman.
"She was going on and on about caves and limestone deposits and I just kind of started writing a story," Todd admitted.
Miss Tripp was an attractive woman in her late twenties or early thirties. Normally, her long red hair was piled on her head, but every now and then, like today, she had it done in a thick French braid. Her pretty face had a light dusting of freckles across her small nose, and even as she smiled at Todd, her mouth was in its usual cupid-s bow, perfect for kissing.
"Like your hair like that," Todd complimented, even as they could both hear Mrs. Ortega screaming through the thick door of the principal's office.
"Oh! Why thank you," Miss Tripp simpered.
Todd wondered if the rumors were true, that Miss Tripp was a lesbian. It would be a real shame if she was; she was beautiful. Of course, Todd knew that few men would look past the extra eighty pounds the woman packed. At five foot six, Cindy Tripp weighed two hundred and nine pounds.
Inside of his office, Adam Hooper sighed, then reached out his hand. Mrs. Ortega slapped the notebook into his hand and he read the story quickly.
"And?" he finally said.
"And? AND?" Mrs. Ortega screamed, outraged.
"He wrote about a girl eating a chocolate covered cherry and you're in my office screaming for me to suspend him?" Adam sighed.
"It's not about eating a cherry; he's describing oral sex!" Mrs. Ortega shrilled.
"Again. And?" Adam sighed.
"And it's about Luanne Holmes!" Mrs. Ortega snarled. "How many other Luanne's you know with long blonde hair?"
"And again. And?" Adam sighed. "Mrs. Ortega, I suspended every boy in this school that fantasized about oral sex with Luanne Holmes, we'd be out of boys. Then I'd have to start suspending some of the girls too."
"That man is just incompetent," Mrs. Ortega muttered hatefully as she stormed out of the principal's office.
"Mr. Moore, come see?" Adam called out.
The principal of the high school handed Todd the notebook and smirked.
"Almost makes me wonder what you would write about Hershey's Kisses, Mr. Moore," he said.
"I'll get on it right away, sir," Todd said, face bland.
"Not in Mrs. Ortega's class, huh? My hearing's not going to be able to withstand much more of her complaints," Adam said, waving the student out of his office.
Todd went through the rest of the day. Some had heard of his trouble in Mrs. Ortega's class, but many did not care.
"So, what was it this time?" Luanne smiled as Todd stood at his locker.
"Huh?" Todd asked, blushing hotly. "What was what?"
"What'd you write got Ortega so pissed off?" Luanne asked as they walked out of the school into the mid-May Texas sun.
"Wasn't about her stupid ass caves," Todd said.
"Come on, what'd you write this time?" Luanne pressed.
She touched his arm.
"I still got that one where you talking about my hair," she confided.
"Your hair is the prettiest I ever seen," Todd confessed.
The eighteen year old girl smiled a genuinely happy smile as she reached up and touched her own hair. Rory, her boyfriend usually talked about her breasts. She actually hated having such large breasts; she and her momma always had to go to Brichelle's Boutique to buy her 32E bras; Anthony's didn't carry anything larger than a Double D. So, when Todd had written an entire poem about her hair; who knew there was so many words could describe the color yellow? Luanne kept that poem, kept reading it over and over.
"Come on, let me read it," Luanne begged again.
They stopped at her car.
"I give you a ride," she bartered.
"Yeah, sure," Todd said. "Probably won't feel like after you read this."
But he dug the notebook out of his backpack. He rifled through the five section binder and found the page.
She unlocked the car than got in. She grabbed a towel from the floorboard and draped it over the hard plastic steering wheel.
"So hot after been out here all day," she explained. "Grabbed it one time? Even gave myself a big old blister."
She showed the palm of her small hand. Todd couldn't see anything, but he assumed that she probably could still see where the overheated plastic had given her a blister.
She leaned the notebook on the small console and read, lips moving silently.
"Todd!" she shrilled after a few minutes.
"Told you," he muttered.
She slapped the notebook into his lap, then started the car. She drove, hands gripping the steering wheel through the filthy towel.
Within minutes, she reached his trailer. Slamming on the brakes, she created a cloud of dust. Todd opened the car door and climbed out.
"So? What did Less write this time?" Rory asked when he called Luanne's cell phone that evening.
'Less' was his nickname for Todd Moore.
Luanne had committed as much of Todd's story to memory as she could, the licking, the swirling of her tongue, the pushing her tongue into the chocolate covered treat. She did the same thing whenever she got a carton of them Whoppers malted milk balls. Rory just stuffed a handful of them into his mouth and chomped away. But Luanne liked to eat them, one at a time, holding the ball gently between her front teeth, using her tongue to work her way into the center of the treat. Then she'd suck the malted center out, leaving the chocolate shell.
The moment she'd come home, Luanne had gone into her bathroom, shimmied out of her blue jeans, spread her legs and rubbed her blonde pussy until she shuddered in orgasm. She did love eating chocolate covered cherries, malted milk balls. But she'd never realized it was almost symbolic, a simulation of fellatio.
Luanne Holmes did love performing oral sex. She did love sucking on Rory's four inches of hard cock, swallowing him down to the root, sucking hard on his column of flesh.
She was lucky Rory was hung as well as he was. Rory had told her that half the guys at their school had one or two inch erections. The only ones that had bigger cocks than him were Delbert and Loratio, the two African-American boys at their school.
She loved sucking cock, loved sucking Rory's cock. But Luanne did not want to go all the way with Rory. Large cock or not, she was sure she was not in love with Rory Smith, even if she told him she did love him.
"It was just another one of his stupid ass poems," Luanne lied to Rory. "But, uh, what'd Becky want with you, huh?"
