Sarah moaned softly as she thrust the vibrating dildo in and out of her sopping cunt, using her other hand to tweak her nipples just hard enough to be a little bit painful. The humming of the motor was loud in the silence of her room, the buzzing against her swollen clit bringing her to ecstasy again and again as she fucked herself with her favorite toy. She hadn't been this horny in ages - maybe ever - and she couldn't believe the day that had led her to nearly an hour of nonstop masturbation. Trying to calm down a little so that her next orgasm would come more slowly, she relaxed and let her mind wander back to the events that had brought her to this point...
*****
Sarah hurried down the empty hallway toward her first period class. Her heels clicked against the linoleum floors with every step, the height of her pumps preventing her from taking the longer strides she normally preferred. She clutched her textbook to her chest and once again cursed the driver who had decided to run a red light right in front of her, delaying her arrival with an accident whose only casualty (fortunately, she supposed) was her punctuality.
The shoulder bag she habitually carried bumped against her hip, hitching the navy, knee-length skirt she was wearing a little bit higher up her leg, threatening to reveal the lacy trim of her thigh-highs. She would have tugged it back down, but she utterly detested being late, and she didn't want to delay her arrival any further. Finally she reached the door to her AP chemistry classroom and tugged it open, slipping inside.
With cheeks doubly reddened by exertion and embarrassment, she scanned the room. Her usual seat was occupied by Peter Nelson, an insufferable teacher's pet who did everything he possibly could to prove that he was a genius and that she was inadequate. He graced her with a smirk from his newly acquired place. She sighed, realizing that her only option was a seat at the one lab table in the very back row, flanked by two members of the boys' soccer team whose presence in the class continued to bewilder her. Even now they were engaged in conversation rather than paying attention to the teacher.
"Sorry, Mr. Schneider," she said, handing him her tardy slip marked "excused" as she turned and walked briskly toward the back of the room.
Mr. Schneider murmured some sort of assent and resumed his explanation of the lesson, blanketing the board with orbital diagrams and complicated chemical equations.
Sarah slid onto her stool, smoothing her skirt underneath her as she perched the balls of her feet on the little bars on either side of the stool near the bottom. She dropped her shoulder bag to the floor beside her. Pulling a notebook and pencil out of the bag, she tucked her shoulder-length brown hair behind her ears, and tried to copy as much of what was covering the board as quickly as possible.
"Well, well, well, look at this, Rob. Sarah Martin was actually late to a class." The low, smooth baritone came from her right, drawing her attention away from the molecule she was replicating in her notes.
"That can't be right, Nate. The Sarah Martin
I
know hasn't been late to class since before we started high school." This rejoinder, offered in even deeper tones, floated over her left shoulder.
Sarah put the finishing touches on her last equation, noting that Mr. Schneider had paused in his explanation and was now engaging in a spirited debate with Peter about the accuracy of his diagramming. She decided she could safely ignore both of them and risked a glance from the corner of her eye to one side and then the other.
Robert Thompson and Nathan Powers had been best friends as long as she'd known either of them, which was nearly twelve years now. They had all attended Franklin Sanders Prep since first grade, and she had watched them grow from a pair of six-year-old troublemakers into a pair of bigger, eighteen-year-old troublemakers. They rarely did any work, so far as she knew, and they were constantly finding ways to get irritate their teachers and amuse their classmates. Still, everyone seemed to like them, including the faculty, and they were, of late, the utter darlings of the school for having led the varsity soccer team to a league championship against their biggest rival. And, of course, all the girls thought they were both ridiculously hot - including Sarah, although she would have died before admitting it out loud to anyone.
Rob was tall and somewhat lanky, with the unjustly good looks of a young man who has been blessed with the best features from both a beautiful Latina mother and a handsome English father. He had thick brown hair that was kept fairly short, a wide smile framed by dimples, and dark brown eyes that always seemed to be laughing. He was currently leaning on one elbow and doodling boxes around his diagram of sodium chloride.
On her other side, Nate was shading in triangles at the corners of his paper, leaning carelessly against the file cabinet that stood beside their table. His honey-blond hair curled around his ears and fell over his forehead, brushing long eyelashes that surrounded hazel eyes, which, she suddenly realized, were fixed firmly on her.
"Not only that, Rob, but she's not even paying attention to Schneider's ramblings. In fact," he paused, and leaned behind her to whisper conspiratorially, pressing the hard contours of his chest against her side, "I think she's checking us out."
Sarah inhaled sharply through her nose and immediately began balancing the reaction that had appeared on the board while she was pondering her tablemates, eyes focused on her notebook.
Rob shifted his weight so that he was now leaning on his right elbow, pressing his shoulder against hers to look over her paper. The cuff of his polo shirt scraped against her arm, and his hair brushed against her temple.
"I don't think so Nate," he remarked, "she's still keeping up with all these stupid redox reactions that Schneider's covering for the third time this week."
Sarah flushed, trying not to squirm underneath their touch. The pressure of their bodies against her was doing funny things to her stomach and giving her visions of other interesting ways they could sandwich her between them. She felt her panties start to dampen as her fantasy self bounced up and down on Rob's cock while Nate took her ass from behind.
Good Lord
. She mentally shook herself out of her daydream and decided she would ignore them, rather than trying to convince them that she hadn't been ogling them or fantasizing about them fucking her into oblivion.
Nate plopped his chin onto her right shoulder and boldly moved her right hand back from the calculation she was working out. His curls tickled her cheek.
"Nah, she's definitely off her game right now. She used the wrong constant to calculate delta H."
Sarah pulled her hand out of his grasp. "I most certainly did not!" she whispered fiercely.
"Shhh," Rob chided her, his breath warm against her ear, "Schneider'll hear you. And you totally did. You used the one for calories instead of the one for joules."
She froze. Was this really happening right now?
Robert Thompson
and
Nathan Powers
were critiquing her chemistry notes - she looked down - and they were
right
? Daydreaming about getting double-teamed by the two hottest guys in school was clearly clouding her mind.
Nate plucked the pencil out of her hand, erased the last two numbers she had written, and re-did the calculation. He circled his final answer with a flourish. "There," he said smugly. "
That
is what you should have gotten."
She narrowed her grey-blue eyes at him and held out her hand for the pencil. He handed it back to her with a slight nod of his head.
