One: The Jock's Invitation

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Finishing up homework in the few minutes before class starts isn't me. At least it wasn't until she caught my attention.

Oakwood High had never been exciting. Then came junior year and Prescilla Richards transferred in. The entire end of that year I had been unable to keep my eyes off of her or keep my dick flaccid.

Being the hottest girl in school, she quickly became equally as popular. As the stereotype goes, I quickly became one of her many stepping stones.

Not that I really cared, especially because of how nice the view was.

Come senior year, however, everything changed. By some wicked stroke of luck, we ended up having all the same classes.

Our class is made up of nearly a thousand students. To have all of the same classes with one person is unlikely, to say the least. Even more fanfuckingtastic was the fact that she either sat in front of, or next to me in every single period.

So here we are, day two of senior year, listening to Mrs. H babble on about politics—My least favorite subject. There she is sitting, barely there dress with the thickness of a fingernail, and hair so fucking thick and long it has my fingers itching to grab onto it while I fuck her against the desk she sits in.

"Psst."

The annoying noise is from Tommy. I don't need to look to know this, the quarterback is the only other person here at Oakwood that actually speaks to me, or quite frankly, annoys the shit out of me. He's the one actually fucking Prescilla instead of daydreaming about it like me.

I give him a sideways glance. He's holding out a note with a dumb look on his face that spells out trouble. I take it.

Unfolding the note, I expect to see some stupid illegible words about something I could honestly care less about. What I see is entirely fucking different.

There, glued to the piece of paper in my fucking hand, is a picture of Prescilla in lingerie. And the unmistakable spurt of semen covering it. Jesus Christ.

Crumpling it up, I throw it back at Tommy and shake my head. He starts cackling.

I'll never understand what the fuck is wrong with him.

He doesn't shut up. Even after five fucking minutes.

Eventually, eyes start wandering to us, more specifically, the obnoxiously loud jock who wont shut the fuck up.

My face heats when Prescilla turns around.

"Something funny, Tommy?" She says seductively, parting her legs slightly. Tommy's sudden silence and intake of breath is clue enough as to what he's looking at.

I'm too caught up in my own view to get jealous. When she spread her legs, she leant against my desk and gave me a perfect line of vision straight down the front of her dress.

My balls tighten and a rush of blood engorges my cock.

 Cursing silently, I conjure memories of my grandmother and thankfully my cock goes soft again.

"Did you say something?" Prescilla's eyes are on me, narrowed and fierce.

My cock twitches. Fuck.

I shake my head at her, struggling to keep my dick from swelling to its eight inch potential. That would be impossible to hide in slacks. But fuck. Those eyes.

"Mhmm," she hums. Her head tilts and she stares at me. My entire world stops. I've never seen her this close and for so long, aside from staring at her yearbook photo.

She has full, pink lips that I would give my fucking leg for if it meant watching them wrap around my cock as I thrust into her hot mouth. Just above her top lip is a dark freckle that contrasts to her pale skin that pairs perfectly with her blonde hair.

These thoughts are so not fucking making my cock deflate.

Prescilla blinks and our moment is gone. She turns around and the heat in my face instantly fades, leaving me cold, but relieved.

A hand slaps my shoulder and Tommy starts cackling. "Your face!'

Luckily, the bell rings signalling fifth period, my final class of the day, has ended.

I barely make it to the parking lot before someone starts calling my name.

"Ey, Arnie!"

Fucking Jock.

I don't stop for him. As soon as I unlock my car, I get in and start it. Unfortunately, Tommy is already at my window when I go to back out.

"Arnie, my guy," He greets, leaning into my car.

I look at him, my impatience surely etched into every line on my face.

"Just wanted to thank you for the laughs. There's a party tonight, come." He grins from ear to ear, "And someone might just make you cum. There are always a healthy selection of ladies, Arnie."

In the whole four years of high school at Oakwood, I have never been invited to a damn thing. In any case, the only significant part about Tommy's invitation is the 'healthy selection of ladies.' And the simple fact that Prescilla is more than likely going to be present.

She's the only one I want making me cum.

I grip my steering wheel tightly as I think about my decision. I could most definitely get laid tonight, lose my virginity, finally. Or I could go home and do some homework, then fuck my fist imagining it as Prescilla's pussy.

The latter isn't my favorite nor does it not appeal to me, but it's fucking pathetic. With that in mind, I nod at Tommy. "I'll be there."

His eyes flash with approval. "Good. It's at the old Wicker mansion, it'll be fucking baller."

I freeze at the mention of the location, but nod my head when Tommy doesn't move away. As if he noticed my moment of apprehension, his face turns serious.

"I'll be expecting you, Arnie. Don't let me down." With that he walks away, waving a hand in goodbye.

Suspicion blooms inside me as I think about the invitation, but I quickly stave it off. I've been embarrassed enough over the years to where whatever is waiting at that party doesn't scare me in the least. I only have months left of this shit, then it's bye bye Oakwood.

Tonight, I'm getting laid.

Or having my cock sucked. Whichever is in the cards for me, I prefer that hot as fuck, bitchy Prescilla is the one performing.




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