Author's Notes: This story has been posted to Literotica.Com with the full knowledge of the original author, JimBob44. No part or whole of this story may be reprinted in any other format or on any other web site without the express written consent of the original author.
Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.
This story has been edited by myself, using Microsoft Spell-check. You have been forewarned; expect to find mistakes.
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David Rose sat up at the top of the bleachers, his Elgee High School hooded sweatshirt keeping him warm as a breeze from the Atchafalaya Basin was at his back. He'd painted his face with the school colors, green and white and cheered with the Elgee students and faculty as the Eagles soundly trounced the SM Hufstedler Hawks, winning their Homecoming game.
He stayed seated as the majority of the students flooded onto the field to hug or high five the Elgee football players. He watched as a few of the cheerleaders claimed their man, their boyfriends. He watched as a few of the other cheerleaders circulated, hugging and kissing their victorious football team members.
"Hey! Nuh uh, come on you assholes!" Chuck Neusbaum cried out as three football players picked the hapless team equipment manager off of his feet.
"Ack! Come on, no, no, come on, assholes!" the boy protested as he was unceremoniously dunked into the Gatorade cooler, head first.
"Fuck you! I quit, God damned assholes," Chuck sobbed, now dripping wet with lemon-lime Gatorade.
"Pretty uncool, guys," David muttered, slowly standing and making his way down to the lower level of the aluminum bleachers.
As he traversed the cumbersome steps of the structure, David saw Priscilla Whitman vigorously kissing one of the football players. David shook his head; Priscilla was a cheerleader and was one of the most stuck-up, haughty, entitled bitches he'd ever had the displeasure of teaching.
"Hey y'all, listen y'all, I'm only going be able dance another two, three weeks? You know, 'til my baby bump starts showing? Then I guess I'm just going have turn tricks full time 'cause I don't know who the baby daddy is," David muttered under his breath, over-emphasizing a backwoods trailer trash accent.
"Keep on keeping on, slut," David thought as Priscilla gave someone on the stands a triumphant sneer. "A few years from now? When you're so stretched out from your numerous pregnancies?"
"Of course, little tramps like that are usually the last ones to know that their prime is long past..." David mumbled, reaching the ground.
"Hey, Mr. Rose," Bobby Gerrard, the football player called out, pulling away from Priscilla's embrace.
"Good game, Robert," David smiled, nodding toward the young man. "Ninety four yards with one receiving and one rushing touchdown? Your stats are looking good, looking very good indeed."
"Thank you, sir," the young man beamed, even as Priscilla tried to drag him away.
Turning his head to the left now, David understood Priscilla's triumphant sneer. Sitting on the bottom seat of the bleachers, looking absolutely devastated was Jailene Boudreaux. Up until the final moments of tonight's game, Jailene Boudreaux had been Bobby Gerrard's girlfriend.
David shook his head at the foolishness of youth. At nineteen years of age, Priscilla Whitman already had very harsh features made all the more unappealing by far too much makeup. Even though her blonde hair was natural, she had it cut into a spiky style that made it look artificial, bleached. Her blue eyes were hard, unfriendly eyes and her mouth was usually set in a sneer.
True, Priscilla did possess some firm, round breasts that defied gravity. David was sure, though, in a few years, those proud globes would hang down past Priscilla's belly. Right now, her belly was sleek, muscled, leading into sleek hips and taut buttocks, but David was sure the belly and buttocks would expand considerably in time.
Thanks to her Cajun heritage, Jailene Boudreaux was short; David guesstimated the eighteen year old student was four feet eight inches. She had a pleasantly chubby body, also thanks to her heritage, with cute little breasts and a nicely rounded backside on top of stubby little legs.
As was prevalent in the Cajun custom, Jailene's thick brown hair was long, reaching down to the ground. Right now, her hair was done into two ponytails, one on either side of her head. The two thick hanks of brown hair were tied in green and white ribbons. Her blouse was a snug white top and her skirt was green and white plaid. Being a knee-length skirt, in her seated position, David was able to see much of Jailene's bare thighs.
He smiled, thinking of his buddy Chad Rose, no relation. Chad would have 'accidentally' dropped his pen or a coin, or any available object so that he could drop to the ground and steal a glimpse up Jailene's skirt.
"Man! If we'd had cell phones back then, Chad would have had a ton of cell phone pictures of those sweet little girls and their charms," David thought.
David sat down next to Jailene. Silently, he fished his handkerchief from his rear pocket and held it out for the sobbing girl. After a moment, Jailene reached out and accepted the soft linen scrap.
"I, I, all 'cause I wouldn't let her copy off my homework," Jailene wailed.
"Hmm," David nodded in understanding.
Priscilla was maintaining a barely passing grade in most of her classes. David would not put it past Mr. Patel, the Science teacher to trade blow jobs for a passing grade in his class, but in the other classes Patricia would have to put forth some effort. Or cheat. David himself had more than one young lady declare she would do 'ANYTHING' to get a passing grade in his Algebra class, or his Geometry class. 'Anything' except actually study, actually turn in their homework in a timely manner, actually pay attention in his class, actually put forth any effort.
"And we, we, we was supposed go to Skip's," Jailene sniffled.
Skip's was a hamburger joint near the campus of Elgee High School. David deduced that this one fact, location, was the only thing keeping the greasy spoon in operation. The food was substandard and the service uninspired. But, being two blocks away from a few hundred teenagers with voracious appetites and unrefined palates guaranteed the establishment a steady flow of customers.
"You must be very hungry if you're upset about not eating there," David tried to be humorous.
"It, it's not that," Jailene sniffled, fresh tears coming to her eyes. "It's, I mean, you know, Bobby and me, we're..."
"It was about being seen. With your man," David softly suggested.
Jailene seemed surprised that Mr. Rose understood. David smiled a sympathetic smile; he himself had been a teenager once. Of course, most of the students seemed to forget that simple fact about their teachers. Teachers were human; teachers had once struggled through the same angst and turmoil and insecurities that their students now struggled with.
"And yeah, I am pretty hungry," Jailene confessed. "Mrs. Guidry was making her supper toast."
"Sup...what is supper toast?" David asked.
"Know how you make French toast? Supper toast is the same thing but instead of sugar and vanilla and cinnamon you use garlic and salt and pepper and it ain't even that cayenne pepper. And instead of syrup you use ketchup and grated up cheese," Jailene explained.
"Yeah, well, my momma, we had spaghetti sandwiches a lot," David said. "Of course, around the first of the month? There would be meat with it."
