Gym Class Zero

This is a story about sex. And a story about sweaty high school locker rooms. It's a story about both, actually.

But mostly, this is a story about some really poor decision-making.

And I know what you're thinking! "Yeah, of course there's some poor decision-making! The do-goods and the try-hards rarely wind up in reluctant, erotic stories, right?" Well, you're wrong. I was a do-good and a try-hard throughout high school, but a couple really bad decisions just weeks before graduation led me to the wildest gym class of my life.

The first bad decision was this: I skipped gym class.

My second bad decision was this: I skipped gym class again.

I bet you can guess what my third bad decision was. And my fourth.

You see, I was a do-good and a try-hard in, say, English class, or Ancient Greek Roots and Origins, or Medieval Poetry. I could work my ass off for a single test in Physics. My GPA, for the classes that (vaguely) mattered, was nearly a 4.0. My life was together, I was 18, set to graduate, committed to a damn fine liberal arts college on the East Coast, and making all the right choices. The one thing I couldn't get right was that fucking gym class.

And it's not like I wasn't in good shape. Was I a little on the shapely side? Sure. I had some solid thighs. I could Netflix with the best of them. But I could chill with the best of them, too, and I was nimble and fit enough to do so. Like any other teen, I was a lazy oaf, but I was horny enough and young enough to keep my body in shape.

So it wasn't that I couldn't handle the mind-numbing intensity of public school gym class at the end of my senior year. I was just lazy.

I mean, what motivation did I have for showing up anyway? I'd committed to a college, my GPA was doing just fine (and if it wasn't, I don't think I'd care), and there were much more interesting things to do during that period, like breaking my friends out of chemistry or hooking up in the band room, or both. Who cared about that fucking gym class?

But on this particular day, exactly 18 days before the end of my senior year, I did. Because, as my teacher Mr. Stokes kindly informed me at the beginning of the period, "You're going to fail. If you miss another class of gym, you're going to fail, Carly, and I'm not sure we can give you your diploma if you don't get your final gym credit."

Fucking gym class.

So I'm standing there, in front of this hawk-nosed, wide-mouthed, beady-eyed stud of a gym teacher, and I do what any failing teenage girl would do.

You probably think I sucked his dick, right? Or showed him my tits? Hell no. Guy's not even good-looking. And so old he'd probably have a heart attack before I could murmur the words, "Wanna talk about this in your office?" while showing off the cleavage between my small, firm breasts.

Nah. I just lied.

"I completely understand, Mr. Stokes," I said, beaming with all the sweet, scholarly purity I could muster. "Thank you for this warning. But right now, I've got this horrible headache coming on. Could I please visit the nurse's office?"

It took a while for that one to go through his thick skull (no doubt struggling to detect my lie), but he eventually let me, and I darted out of the sweaty, musty gym quicker than a dateless boy at prom. I walked down the hallway to the nurse's office for a little bit, just in case anyone was following me, and then ducked through the door into the girls' locker room.

The ceilings were really low in there and skirted with some dim fluorescent bulbs. The rows of lockers surrounding me were all painted the same dull shade of grey, the painter's equivalent of an out-of-tune banjo. And it smelled like sweat. And perfume. And maybe chicken nuggets? I couldn't really pin down that last scent.

But most importantly, it was empty, and I wanted to take a second to figure out how long I could possibly be at the nurse's before anyone realized I was gone. I sat down on a low wood bench, relaxed a little bit, and then freaked the fuck out.

Shit shit shit shit shit.

Someone was coming into the locker room.

Two people. I could hear their voices.

I made another bad decision.

I tiptoed further into the girls' locker room, shoved myself into the nearest locker, and pulled the door firmly behind me.

Little did I know, by closing that door, I had sealed my terrible, unfortunate, embarrassing, and incredibly hot fate.

Tony and Amanda were walking into the girl's locker room. And I didn't even have to wonder why Amanda would be taking her boyfriend into the girl's locker room.

The two had been dating for, like, three years at that point, which is borderline absurd for a high school relationship. They weren't particularly good-looking or likeable as far as couples go, but everyone knew that Tony and Amanda had a ridiculous amount of sex.

I'm not even sure why that was common knowledge at my high school, but it just was, sort of like how everyone knew that Erik Holmesson picked his nose during every standardized test and Shayne Wheatley was going to film a porno someday. You just kinda knew these things.

And I just kinda knew, at that point, that I was in deep trouble.

It wasn't just that the class coupling was about to happen right in front of me in the locker room. Or that I would be forced to watch it from my small and increasingly uncomfortable locker. The trouble was that Tony and Amanda were, for reasons still lost to me, members of my close and bizarre circle of friends. And I wasn't ready to watch the two of them get it on.

This is not to say that I'm not used to a fair amount of PDA in my circle. I am, begrudgingly, the living, breathing stereotype of a flaky, flamboyant bisexual, and most of my friends have seen me in my underwear or made out with me or both at this point. It's just that Tony and Amanda are the ultimate and I didn't want to witness some painfully loving sex.

I was squirming just at the thought of it, the walls of this tiny locker pressing cold against my wide thighs and small shoulders. And all they had to do was look through the small grates in the locker door, see my panicked eyes staring out at them...

My fucking luck. They were coming right this way. And before I could yelp one last warning call, to let them know I was there, Tony was lifting Amanda up and pressing her right up agains the locker I was sitting in.

"Mmm... Amanda..." he mumbled, broad hands fumbling at her t-shirt. He had these really intense light brown eyes that were roving all over her body, I could see his face so clearly from the locker, and a crewcut that made his face look like a slightly more chiseled moon. He was a blusher, and his face was bright pink now from excitement and growing arousal. I couldn't see below his waist from here, but from Amanda's persistent moaning, I knew he was rubbing something hard and stiff against her, and she was rubbing back. The motion of their bodies was slowly rocking the locker I was squished inside of.

"Ooh yeah..." Amanda took a breath shuddering with excitement. "Are we really gonna do this?"

There was a pause, then I saw Tony lick his lips. I wasn't really into guys at the time, but the way his tongue flicked out was pretty hot.

"Do you want to?" he asked.

She leaned forward to kiss him, and between the smooching sounds and the radiating heat of their breath I thought I was going to be sick. It went on for way too long before she pulled away. "Let's do it. Now."

My stomach lurched, but I was also felt a wave of anticipation. This was way more intense than I thought it was going to be. Maybe they'd get pretty freaky. I'd have a pretty amazing vantage point to watch it all play out.

Amanda turned around, and now Tony was standing with his back against my locker door, so tall the overheard lights were now completely blocked out. I got a glimpse of Amanda's curly brown hair and olive skin before she went down on him.

Damn. I wasn't going to see anything from here. I could hear his fly unzipping and his breaths coming sharper and sharper, and I took the opportunity to shift myself ever so slightly in the locker. Despite the terrible view, I found myself spreading my thighs a little bit so I could reach a hand down there.

I closed my eyes and listened to the sound of them. Tony was groaning encouragements to Amanda under his breath, while her voice had been been replaced by a periodic low slurping sound. I slipped a hand into my gym shorts, which rustled and whispered against my thighs, and started playing with myself, timing my slow, steady, circling rubs to the sound of Amanda sucking Tony's dick.

"Aw... Amanda... Just like that, yes, that's so good..." His voice was so low he was practically hissing. Or maybe a low growl. Something throaty. It rumbled against the thin aluminum walls that were still hiding me. "Unh... Yes... Deeper..." The slurps lowered in pitch, and I thought I could even hear her gag on his dick, and I was vaguely impressed with her blowjob skills. I hadn't sucked a good cock in a pretty long time, and my pussy was responding accordingly. My gym shorts and panties were getting wet. Part of me was imagining Amanda going down on me, another part imagining the look on Tony's face at this very moment, and another part could only tune in on the low sounds of pleasure only inches away from me.

We stayed like that for a while, Amanda sucking Tony just out of sight while I got more and more aroused in my hiding spot beside them.

I was centering in on that feeling of pleasure, rubbing my clit in deep, steady circles. I wasn't really committing to any of it, but suddenly I could feel the orgasm building up in me, and I let it build, arching my back ever so slowly and letting the slow, lazy waves of pleasure flood me. It felt so good... I nodded my head, bucked my hips... And ever so slightly, my foot kicked the door.

My foot kicked the door.

A motion so tiny it would only be picked up by a doctor with a rubber hammer and a sharp eye. A sound so tiny it could hardly matter, hardly change anything...

"What was that?!" Amanda straightened up, and while Tony, lazily, desperately, tried to pull her back down, she was on high-alert, glancing all around her for the source of that tiniest sound. Then our eyes met through the grate of the locker door, and Amanda screamed.

We were lucky, of course, that nobody heard Amanda's scream or barged in to investigate. But that was about the end of my luck. I was just about convinced, at that point, that I probably had to worst luck in the world.

Here I was, sardine-packed into a high school locker, shrinking back from the sight of Amanda, horrified, pulling open the locker door, and Tony, sulky and still a little bemused, trying to cover up with ram-hard erection. I pulled my hand out of my pants as the locker opened, but I was hiding nothing. My bucking hips and wide thighs said enough.

For a minute, the three of us stood there, shocked and confused.

Then. "What. The. Hell." Amanda seethed.

"She... Must've skipped gym class again. Mr. Stokes. She asked to go to the nurse. She... She was here."

"In the locker," Amanda said, rather unhelpfully.

"The whole time," I admitted, not meeting her eyes.

Tony stared between both of us, his eyes widening with understanding. "You... Oh... Shit... Oh man."

I blushed. "I'm sorry guys, let's just get back to class, pretend this never happened..."

"No!" Tony yelped, almost whining, then mumbled, "Well, I mean..." He glanced down at his cock.

Amanda's eyes narrowed and I knew I was in a world of trouble.

"Carly," she said.

"That's me," I smiled with the look a person about to be eaten by lions.

"Carly's failing gym class. Carly can't be caught skipping another class. She wouldn't want us telling Mr. Stokes about this, would she, Tony?"

Then, Tony understood, and all his confusion or bemusement left him. That intense, piercing stare returned, and he was staring at me, and I saw his cock twitch slightly and began to hate everything that was happening.

"Hell no," I snarled.

But Tony took a step forward. "You wouldn't want to fail," he said, never taking his eyes off me. "You wouldn't want us to tell," he continued, taking another step forward, gripping his dick in his hands. "And besides, you ought to repay the favor," he added, taking one more step, winking, and placing a hand on my shoulder with an alarming grip.

Amanda moved by my side as well, and drew me out of the locker. She kissed my neck, lingeringly, and suddenly 3 years of pent up longing shook through me. "Do it, Carly," she said, winking.

Then, together, she and Tony pushed me to my knees. The longing and shame welled inside me like a sexy balloon. "Fuck you," I said.

I sucked Tony's dick.

Bisexuality is different for everyone. Some people prefer one gender but won't say no to others. Some people will sleep with anything that breathes. But if you're like me, your bisexuality is fluid, and you experience attraction to certain genders for months at a time before moving on to others. At the time, I was deeply in love with women, and I hadn't sucked a guy off in months, so I wasn't really sure I'd know where to begin.

But Amanda had started something, and now I had to finish it, so I gave Tony a stare of pure hatred and started to move my small, soft mouth up and down his shaft.

It was smoother, and easier, and hotter than I was expecting it to be, and despite myself I felt a sharp and increasingly urgent tug of desire. It didn't help that Tony was egging me on.

Amanda has a softness about her, and a warmth. She's sharp and discerning, but yielding, also. I had heat, and so did Tony, and right now he was matching me blow for blow, panting and moaning with an urgency I hadn't heard before. Amanda just smirked. I blistered.

"You gotta keep going," she said, pushing my head further down on her boyfriend's bobbing penis. "That's how he likes it."

I wasn't going to choke down a dick, though. Not for all the diplomas in the world. I gagged, then pulled away. "I'm not fucking doing that," I said, glaring at her.

"Then you better find another way to make him cum," she grinned. "I want to watch you fuck him."

I balked. Fuck Tony? Her boyfriend? But somehow, that seemed far preferable to me than the alternative. Amanda began undressing me, starting with my t-shirt, which came off in a smooth, quick motion while Tony watched and panted, and then my gym shorts, which were barely there anyway. I was left in a bra and panties, and then, tossing a pile of lace toward Amanda, just a bra.

"Fuck you," I spat.

Tony nodded, then glanced towards Amanda, seeking permission. "Go ahead," Amanda said, with half a laugh in her voice.

I pulled Tony toward the wooden bench, sat him down, pulled down his shorts and underwear, and climbed into his lap. I paused, hovering over his spear of a cock, my pussy hot and needy despite my resentment. "Do it," Tony commanded, and I lowered myself and he shoved his dick inside me.

It was an overly full feeling that I wasn't entirely used to, and it was overwhelming, and amazing, and I felt like his cock was splitting me in two. I began riding it, slowly, letting the long shaft move up and down and up and down in me. Tony was began thrusting, sharp and long and deep, and then I felt hands reach around my back and Amanda's breath against my neck and her hands pinching and massaging and cupping my breasts the way only a woman knows how. She was purring and whispering in my ear, but between Tony's quick jabs and her groping I could barely understand what she was saying.

The urgency and the heat increased, like last time, and somehow Amanda had moved around and was tracing slow cruel circles around my nipples with her tongue. Tony moaned, but this one was different and seemed to signal something, and the thing it was signaling was his cum, long ropes of it that shot up into me and drizzled up and down my thigh. I came right after him, my pussy gripping his dick tight, spasming and shaking and yes, my foot kicked again, and I groaned and yelped and rode it out until we all came to an exhausted halt.

When our breathing finally slowed down, and I rolled myself off of her boyfriend, Amanda pulled herself up onto my lap with a wicked smile. "My turn?" she asked, kissing me full on the laps.

"You're next," I moaned.