All sex between consenting adults over eighteen. Any resemblance to anyone living or dead is purely coincidental. This story is a FANTASY. Try not to be confused with reality. Be kind in your comments or be banished. There is a tiny bit of incest, so if that bothers you, stop reading now. If you don't like it, gee, that's too bad. I invite you to try writing your own story, or read one of the other terrific writers on Literotica.
I met Blair Boomer in typing class. What an unusual name. Blair had taken a fair amount of abuse from her fellow students. She got the nickname "Boom-boom" from jealous girls with no tits, I think. Blair was blessed in that department. I never called her Boom-boom because it was so disrespectful and hurtful.
Blair was tall, like 5 foot ten, and willowy. She had long straight brown hair and brilliant eyes of deep brown. Blair has big boobs, and her nipples were dark and hard when she looked at me. I don't think Blair ever wore a bra, which was impressive considering how big her beautiful breasts were. We sat next to each other in typing class.
I was flunking my typing class. Blair was all flying fingers, and sure to get an A. It didn't help me that I had a hard-on for this gorgeous girl all the way through class. My typing concentration was shot, except for concentrating on her erect, three-quarter-inch dark brown nipples staring me in the face... her tee-shirt and lack of a bra was quite obvious. Her nipples were trying to punch holes through whatever blouse she had on. They looked very delicious. Oh yeah!
I did ask Blair out about twenty-seven times, but she just kinda put me off... Not quite an outright rejection, but I guess she was seeing someone else, or just didn't want to go out with me. Whatever. It sure wasn't from my lack of trying! I swear she loved to tease me terribly! Bitch.
Oh well. You can't win them all, but you gotta at least try to hit the ball when you get the chance. Everyone told me about more fish in the sea. That would be great if I was fishing. So I was just teased and tormented by her perfume and her big fat tits in my face. When she stood up, her two perfect big ass cheeks made my poor meat even harder! In my mind I had fucked her at least a hundred times. Thank goodness for a good, dirty imagination!
I sat in that damned typing class and hoped for death. All year long I had tried my very best to get the hang of that damned little evil fucking typewriter, but I was left handed and quite a bit dyslexic. Everything about the thing was backwards to me. My type rate, if you could call it that, was about 12 words a minute. Plus at least that number in mistakes. I was day dreaming of sucking on Blairs perfect nipples, or squeezing her perfect ass cheeks, certainly not thinking about fucking typing class.
The lovely instructor, her name was Mrs. Alice Appleton, was about 5 foot something, depending upon what heels she was in at the moment. She seemed to like 5 or 6 inch fuck-me-pumps. She was in her thirties and she was very hot. I heard she was divorced. She had long, wavy blonde hair and huge brown eyes. She was also exceptionally built, with 36 D cup breasts and gorgeous 38-inch hips. Her 22-inch waist was remarkable for it's small size on such a buxom young woman. Her brown eyes seemed to gaze into my soul. She tried so hard to help me out with her class. I just kept on failing, and that was it. The typewriter had beaten me. I just couldn't do it, no matter how hard I tried. I did keep on trying, but I knew it was useless.
~~~~~~~~~0~~~~~~~~~~
At the time, my mom and my stepfather were going through a rough patch. I don't know what happened, who did what, but one day he and I got into it, he said some awful things about my mom, and we fought! I should mention that he was at least forty pounds heavier than me, and just a nasty piece of work. I really didn't stand a chance.
Well, I woke up in the hospital with a bad head injury. I guess I lost. I don't remember what happened exactly. I had lots of bumps and bruises to show for it. I had a moderate concussion, although it did not feel moderate at all. The nice nurses put ice on my skull where I had a nice size bump. They all liked my abdominal muscles and my six pack!
My fucking stepfather was in jail for beating me up, and my mom was very pissed off at me for that! How is that for a very dysfunctional family!? I told my mom that I was not pressing any charges against that bastard, but only out of respect for her (my mom).
She said the cops saw the last few minutes of the fight and felt he was trying to kill me. I wasn't pressing any charges, it was the district attorney and the cops that were charging him.
They had ten witnesses and someone who had a camera took some photos. He was going to jail. The "how long" part was going to be decided by a judge and jury. I hoped it was long enough to cool his jets. Next time we danced, maybe I would go to jail, and he could try some head trauma. Fucker!
"Well Mom, next time he and I get into it, maybe he WILL KILL-..." I never finished the thought as my mother slapped me hard, like a linebacker, and she stroked me across the face and that was it. That really hurt my feelings! I was done. She didn't care if her new husband killed me or not... That just broke my heart. My relationship with my mom was pretty much destroyed.
I mean, I still loved her, but her callous disregard for my welfare and my feelings hurt me badly. She left as visiting hours had ended. I was just putting up with her until I got out of the house, either to the Marines or to college. I had not figured out what I wanted to do. But it would be directly after graduation that I would make a decision. I was leaning towards the Marines, or possibly the Army.
Later on, I checked myself out of the hospital, against medical advice, and the next day I was doing hard calisthenics and I took part in a gymnastics match. Probably not the smartest thing I have ever done, I just about passed out on the still rings from the pain, but at the age of eighteen, we are invincible. I had a bandage around my head and numerous cuts, bruises and scrapes. I was determined to win, both for myself and my team.
I had been told repeatedly that I was too big to be on the gymnastics team, but I persevered and I was still able to do a planche and an iron cross, even with my injuries. I felt like if I used my wounds as an excuse, my stepfather would win. Fuck that! I helped our team win. I could pass out from the pain after the match. I had grim determination that I was going to win somehow. I don't know if it was my good numbers that did it or not, but our team won the competition. I was on top of the world right then, at least for as long as the bus ride home.
