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The women who play a prominent role in Alan's life, naked
Hot For Teacher
Day 72: Tuesday, November 26

Written and illustrated by Spacer X <paul_t_22@yahoo.com>

Copyright © 2004 - present Spacer X; All Rights Reserved.

This is part of a longer e-novel. It's highly recommended that you start with the Introduction and read the parts sequentially, in order to understand the characters and previous events. The Introduction also provides the full set of story codes for all parts, as well as explaining the story structuring into chapters within parts.

This is an illustrated story. If for some reason a picture doesn't display, you may need to refresh the page or right click on that particular picture to retrieve it. If a picture has a black border, then there is an alternate version showing more skin. Read the "Bonus version" instructions in Artwork to activate and use this feature.


Alan hurried to his first-period physics class and made it through the door just as the bell rang. As he sat down, he complimented himself that he'd gotten away with yet more outrageous behavior on the school grounds, and no one was the wiser.

But the instant he sat in his seat, a sense of horror ran through him that something was dreadfully wrong. He could feel wetness on the backs of his upper thighs where they touched the seat, and his forearms on the desk were soaking in something both wet and sticky.

Oh shit! Wet paint! He looked around. Everyone else was settling down and seemed to be doing fine. Whatever had happened had happened just to him.

He froze in place for a few moments. The combination seat and desk he sat in was painted a dull brown. He realized that if he stood up, he would be a laughingstock. But if he remained sitting and perfectly still, perhaps he could get through this hour of class and then somehow get mercy from the teacher before students came in for the next class. Luckily, the teacher of this class, Mr. Tompkins, was a pretty cool guy. Alan felt confident that he would be able to help.

But then Alan realized to his dismay that he couldn't even so much as raise either arm to ask a question or scratch his nose, since they were sticking to his desk. He experimentally tried to pull one of his arms up an inch or so. It took some effort to free the arm from the paint, and then he saw that the entire underside of his arm was coated in brown.

He dropped his arm back down and frantically looked around the room to see if anyone else had noticed. Luckily, everyone was focused on what Mr. Tompkins was saying, except some burly guys in the back of the room who were pointing and snickering. He instantly knew that they must have been involved. He felt certain that they'd spread word of his predicament, so that the whole class would know within minutes.

Then he saw Christine get up and walk to the front of the class. That was very strange, because she hadn't been called on. She handed Mr. Tompkins a note and walked back to her seat.

Mr. Tompkins read the note and put it aside. Then, he said, "By the way, class, I have good news. You all did so well with your surprise exam on Friday, and it's such a nice day, that we're going to have today's class out on the lawn! How do you like that?"

The class was very surprised and excited, and there was a lot of clapping and cheering.

Mr. Tompkins continued, "Meet me outside on the grassy knoll in a few minutes. Alan, can you stay behind for a second? I have something I need you to do."

Alan had been freaking out, but he let out a huge sigh of relief. Suddenly it all became clear. Christine, sitting kitty corner and behind him, had seen his predicament. She'd quickly written a note to get help from the teacher. Either she or the teacher had thought of evacuating the room immediately, before Alan was exposed.

Thank God for good friends! Alan thought to himself, even as he remained as still as a statue in his chair. Wonder Woman to the rescue! He thought that, because Christine happened to be wearing her fabulous Wonder Woman T-shirt that day.

As the other students filed out, Christine tried to linger. She had a concerned look on her face, but the teacher had said nothing about her staying behind as well, so she reluctantly continued out the door.

Alan gave her the most grateful expression he could conjure, mouthing a silent "Thank you." He saw a smile appear on her face just as she passed out of view.

Mr. Tompkins closed the door behind Christine and immediately rushed to Alan. "My God, kid, what happened to you?"

Alan raised his arm all the way, exposing the underside of brown to his teacher. "A prank, Mr. Tompkins. Some of the football players are out to get me. I could see a couple of guys in the back snickering, so I'll bet at least one of them had something to do with it."

"Well you certainly are calm about it."

"I may look calm on the outside, but I'm actually freaking out. I thought I was in trouble for sure!"

"You still may be, unfortunately. I can't just leave you like this, but I can't leave my class lingering around outside for more than a minute or two, either. Don't even move, or you're going to make a huge mess. I thought about leaving Christine to help you, but I didn't want her role in this to be so obvious. What should I do? Call your parents? Call the principal? In all my years of teaching, I've never seen anything like this."

A solution popped into Alan's brain and he spoke his mind immediately. "Get Ms. Rhymer! She has study hall first period, and she's a good friend. I'll bet she can get me out of this!"

"Good idea. I'm out of here. Good luck!"

Mr. Tompkins literally ran out the door and down the hall.

Alan remained frozen in place. The desk had obviously been freshly painted immediately before the class. Now some of the paint was starting to drip and run in places. He realized with chagrin that this must have been set up at the same time that he'd been having fun with Heather and Simone.

Well, at least that pretty much rules out Heather as a suspect, he concluded while he waited. Anyways, I saw the looks on those guys' faces. I just wish I could have looked more than a second or two so I could have figured out exactly which ones were mocking me. Thank God I have the reputation for being a good guy and a teacher's pet, or I don't think Mr. Tompkins would have been so nice.

Suddenly, Glory burst in. She looked deeply concerned. "Young man! What happened to you?"

Alan explained quickly, and as she listened her obvious concern became mixed with amusement.

Glory looked over the other desks, then concluded, "Hmmm. It appears that just the desktop, backrest, and seat were painted. I'd better go get some supplies. That backrest is dripping something awful. Don't move!" She ran off.

As Alan sat and waited yet again, he thought, Fuck. Someone, or more likely more than one, of those guys really have it in for me. Whatever Heather did over the weekend to try to appease them clearly wasn't enough. I might have escaped being completely humiliated and embarrassed, thanks to the sharp eyes of one of my few remaining friends, but it's not like they're going to stop. They're going to keep coming at me again and again. And they're bigger and stronger than me, and outnumber me badly. I need real help!

Glory came back with her arms full of janitorial supplies. She locked the door behind her, then set about cleaning up the mess. First she wiped up the paint that had dripped on the floor. Then she had Alan rock the desk-chair to lift up each corner, one at a time, so she could put a big plastic tarp underneath the entire area.

"You're damned lucky I happen to have this period free, young man," she said as she finished placing the tarp.

"I'm damned lucky period! I mean, what if this classroom were on the ground floor and not the second? I'd bet my tormentors would find a way to peek in and take a photograph or something." Then he briefly told the story about what had happened and how Christine and Mr. Tompkins had rescued him.

"Quick," Glory said, cutting off the end of his story. "Stand up and strip! We have to get you out of those clothes."

Alan stood, making sure to remain over the tarp-covered area. "Oh, fuck! Look at me. Look at this! This sucks! Shit. These clothes are ruined. Oh, FUCK! Where the hell am I going to get some other clothes to wear before this period is over? And of course I didn't wear any underwear today. That's probably a bad habit. I'm screwed!"

He rapidly shucked off his T-shirt and shorts as he said this. His hands had been on his desk, so they were covered with paint, too, so he got a lot more brown paint on his clothes as he took them off. They were clearly ruined. The only items not completely ruined were his shoes and socks, which he still wore.

Glory looked at Alan standing naked in the middle of a strange classroom, and cursed him. "Damn you, Alan Plummer! Why do you have to get a fucking hard-on at a time like this?! Young man, you're simply insatiable, and incorrigible!" She pretended anger, but really she was both frustrated and amused.


"I'm sorry," he said sheepishly. "I wasn't aroused even slightly until just now. But you're far too sexy in that fancy outfit. You always dress so nice. And then seeing you bend over all around me, wiping the floor... I mean, I'm only human! It's your fault for being too dang sexy all the time!" He didn't add what had brought his cock to full mast: as she'd been down on all fours putting the tarp into place, he'd a good angle to notice that she was going commando, without panties.

Glory laughed. "All right. All right. But we've resolved to have a purely platonic relationship from now on. This sure is some kind of awkward start to that! Jesus H. Christ! Make it stop bouncing around like that, dammit!"

"I can't!"

She sighed. "Let's get you cleaned up as fast as possible, then. I brought some gloves and a scrub brush and all kinds of things. But if you see one drop get on my clothes, tell me."

"A drop of what?" he asked in as innocent a voice as he could manage.

She knew what he was implying: a drop of paint, or a drop of cum? Her pussy throbbed as she thought about deep throating him so thoroughly that not a drop would escape her lips. But she gained control of her lust and said, "You know what I mean. I don't want these ruined."

He was feeling a lot better by that point. He had a good feeling that he'd get out of this jam. So he teased further, "You could just take them off like mine, you know."

"Wouldn't you like that? I'm sure you'd insist on taking off my bra and panties too, just to be on the safe side."

"Of course. One can't be too careful, especially with the expensive, pure white undies that you like to wear." He found it interesting that she was pretending she was still wearing panties. He strongly suspected that in fact she wasn't wearing a bra, either.

"Young man! What am I going to do with you?" She scrubbed his hands and forearms as she spoke.

"I could think of some fun things."

She laughed, but said, "Arrgh! Platonic, remember?" She ignored the great itching need that she was feeling in her crotch.

"I know. I'm sorry. It's just that I'm all freaked out and worked up, and some humor is helping calm me down. I'll stop."

"Thanks. I know what you mean because I feel the same. Larry - that's Mr. Tompkins to you - was in such a rush that he didn't have time to explain and merely told me that you were alone in this classroom and needed my help right away. I nearly died of worry before I got here! Just exactly who did this to you anyway, and what's it all about?"

He explained all about his feud with the football team while she finished cleaning him off. There wasn't much paint on him. It was mostly just on the lower side of his forearms and hands where he'd touched the desk, plus a thin stripe on the back of his lower thighs where his flesh had made contact with the seat. The rest had been covered by his now-ruined clothes.

Glory, however, seemed to take her time, doing an extremely thorough job of getting all the paint off his skin. In fact, she continued to work on the back of his thighs long after all the paint had gone, although Alan didn't know that. She was intoxicated by being so near his naked ass, and it was a constant struggle for her to keep enough focus on his words to understand his predicament. She reminded herself that this was probably the last time she'd be able to see and touch a naked Alan, though deep down she strongly suspected that that might not be true.

She also had a nearly irresistible urge to grab his erection, which continued to stick straight out, bobbing lightly as she worked on him. She thought, I know every single vein and bump on that penis, and my tongue and lips know it even better than my eyes do. I just can't believe I'm never going to even hold it again... Can't I pet and stroke it just a bit, for old time's sake. Can't I do that? It's not like he would mind...


But his story about the football players gave her something else to focus on. As his tale came to an end, she blurted out, "I blame Heather."

"Heather? Why her?"

"First off, if she hadn't been such a slut and slept with half the team, or more, then they wouldn't be so bent out of shape by the fact that now you're sleeping with her. Then, once that happened, she should have cleaned up her own mess and taken care of them, and she's clearly failed to do that. You're just an innocent victim of her twisted personality and her wanton, immoral behavior."

"Hey. Just a minute. I'll admit that Heather's no saint."

"Ha! Understatement of the year!"

"True. But she's just a part of this whole mess. The main thing is, they consider themselves the top dogs in the school. They always get the best girls, especially the star players. But then I come out of nowhere, a nerd, no less, and suddenly I've got Amy for my girlfriend, and rumors swirl that I'm fucking the rest of the cheerleading squad and then some - minus my sister, of course."

"Oh, of course," Glory said sarcastically, knowing full well that wasn't the case.

"So naturally they're jealous. I've upset the social order, and as you know since you study the gossip, the social order in a high school is everything. And can I really blame them for being jealous? Talking about wanton, immoral behavior, if they only knew half of what I'm actually doing, they and the rest of the school would probably lynch me on the spot. Take you, for starters. Do you know how many guys in this school have crushes on you? If someone were to snap a picture right now of you cleaning my thighs yet again - aren't they clean already? If they were to take a picture right now, with your hands and long tongue wrapped around my cock, alternately jacking it off and deep throating it, I'd be lucky to make it off the campus alive and in one piece!"


"Hey, I'm not deep throating you yet. What are you talking about?" She came around from behind him and stared at his erection from mere inches away, as if confirming that she wasn't already there. She backed up in surprise as it very nearly bounced off her nose. Then she groaned with frustration when she realized he was playing a verbal trick on her.

He laughed. "Just kidding. A guy can dream, can't he? It's only been ten minutes since class started, but it feels like hours have passed, and I'm getting a little bit freaked thinking about someone finding us here."

As Alan talked, Glory mentally calculated the number of inches between the tip of Alan's stiff pole and her lips. The number seemed to be rapidly shrinking and would soon need to be measured in fractions of inches. Even as she promised herself restraint, she licked her lips in anticipation. Her pussy was wet and dripping.

She was thinking, It's really not fair to leave him like this. How is he going to make it through his next classes with a painful hard-on like that? It's my fault, having him stand naked in the middle of the class and then fondling his ass, er, I mean, rubbing the paint off his ass, for so long. Just one little blowjob wouldn't be like we're getting back together or anything. Right? I mean, if I deep throat him and swallow every last drop of his delicious cum, I'd just be doing him a favor, and the fact that I'd be feeling unimaginably great pleasures has nothing to do with it. He's probably noticed that I somehow forgot to wear my panties, so it really is my fault and my-

But then he interrupted her thoughts by saying, "I don't feel nearly as safe right now as when I'm in your room. For one thing, I wouldn't be at all surprised if Mr. Tompkins gets away from his class for a little while to see how we're doing."

"OH FUCK!" She jumped up in panic and backed away, as if Mr. Tompkins had just walked into the room. Then she calmed herself a bit. As much as I'd love to suck him off, I mean, help him out, we can't. Not here, not now. What if someone comes in? This is crazy!

She sat back, making sure to do so in a way that her pussy could no longer be seen. "Phew! Good point. You see? This is why our affair has to stop. I can't take the constant fear that we'll be discovered. Never let me forget that! Let's find you some clothes. Now that I think about it, I have some shorts and a T-shirt that should fit you back in my classroom."

"You do? What luck."

"It's not luck. I've thought a lot about all the different things that could go wrong with our affair. In addition to packing spare clothes for me in my closet, I have some meant for you, in case you got in an embarrassingly cummy mess during one of our lunchtime escapades."

He grinned, impressed. "You're too good for me. You're so clever."

Clever, maybe, but unwise, she thought to herself. If he hadn't reminded me about the almost certain chance of Larry coming back to his own classroom at any time, I'd probably have given in and I'd be deep throating him right now! He knew it and I knew it. I was soooo close. I even said "yet." Damn! I have to resist! I'm so stupid! True, I thought of the clothes, which helped speed things up, but if he hadn't been the one to remember about the teacher, my goose would be cooked for sure! We're hanging on by the skin of our teeth! And I thought I'd put all this behind me yesterday, but I can't get free.

She returned with the clothes minutes later, and soon he was dressed. The two of them finished cleaning up, including wiping all the wet paint from his desk until it was useable for the next period's class.

Once they were done, Glory thought, Now, this is awkward. He still has that hard-on. And it still would be mean of me to just leave him like that. But I can't just ask him to unzip his pants so I can run my tongue up and down his beautiful shaft, slathering it and loving it as I take it deeper and deeper. I have my dignity! We're supposed to be moving past that. Besides, what if Mr. Tompkins comes back? He will soon, I know it. What if he sees me on my knees, with my handsome student shoving all eight magnificent inches between my hungry lips? Would I just sit there and suck and lick and tease until he blows his huge wad of tasty cum all over my tonsils while another teacher watches?

Good Lord!

She stood up and began pacing about. She kept busy cleaning the rest of the room, even though that had nothing to do with the painting incident. She just wanted an excuse to look anywhere but at Alan.

He didn't realize it, but she was close to the breaking point. If he had so much as touched her on the shoulder, she would have turned around and melted in his arms, eager to do anything and everything he wanted to do.

But ever so slowly, she managed to calm herself. They started talking about school gossip, which was safe territory. Eventually, Glory noticed that Alan's erection had subsided and that took away her excuse to "help" him. Her pussy finally stopped throbbing with need.

By the time Mr. Tompkins came back in to check on them, everything had been taken care of. They sat next to each other, making idle chatter, looking as innocent as two angels.

But deep down, both Alan and Glory were very distraught, though for different reasons. Alan knew he'd dodged a bullet. A public humiliation would be worse than actually getting beaten up, because one got a lot of sympathy with the latter, but practically none with the former. He considered this painting incident to be a declaration of war, though he didn't even know exactly who his enemies were. He was already plotting his own moves, and the first step was to solidify the status of his own friends and allies. With an S-Club meeting planned for the afternoon and a dinner date already scheduled with Christine this evening, the timing seemed just right. Again, he marveled at his great luck.

Glory, on the other hand, was deeply disturbed by just how aroused she'd been. She cursed her rotten luck and wondered at the odds that a bizarre series of events would result in Alan standing before her completely naked and fully erect just minutes after school began. She both loved it and hated it.

She could hardly understand herself anymore. For instance, she had no good explanation why she consciously chose not to wear any underwear as she dressed for school that morning. She told herself that it was an accident, but she didn't really believe that, as she'd never made that kind of mistake before in her life. Some tiny, naughty voice in the back of her head told her that Alan had commanded her to do that the week before, and since he hadn't said anything contrary since, she continued to obey. She knew that was the most pathetic excuse imaginable.

What she couldn't deny however was that being naked under her clothes was inescapably arousing to her. Deep down inside, she secretly knew that she just wanted to be naughty for her young lover. She knew that in her bed tonight, she'd be fantasizing endlessly about all the things that could have happened between them in Mr. Tompkins' classroom if she'd had just a tiny bit less self-control.


Alan thought he was out of the woods by the time first period came to an end, but he was wrong.

The football players who had played the chair painting trick on him didn't just fade away. Naturally, they were curious about what had happened to him and how he'd managed to avoid embarrassment. They were even madder at him than before for having escaped their trap, and were hardly about to let things go at that.

So when he came out of Mr. Tompkins' physics class, they were waiting for him. At first they kept their distance, lost behind him in the hallway crowd, waiting to see who he might be with. But when it appeared he was alone and heading to his next class, they made their plans and followed him.

Alan's first-period class was on the second floor while his second-period class was on the ground floor. The route from one class to another was filled with other students, so the football players knew they couldn't do anything too overt to him, especially given the suspensions that had been given out the week before. As a result, they struck in the most logical place along Alan's limited route: the stairs.

Alan was unaware that a small group of burly guys were following him, so he was taken by surprise when one of them caught up to him at the top of the stairs and stuck a foot out in front of him just as he began to step down the first stair.

The result was predictable: Alan went tumbling down the stairs, completely out of control. He most likely would have been severely hurt except for the fact that the stairway was filled with other students. So, rather than falling all the way down unimpeded, he crashed into some other students. More than one of them fell too, but none of them had the momentum he did, so only he kept going all the way to the flat area halfway down where the stairs turned.

The football players eagerly followed him down, and one of the biggest of them was right there to lend a helping hand when Alan tried to stand up. Or, at least, Alan initially thought it was a helping hand, as he didn't stop to look up at the face first. But as he stood up, he realized the hand wasn't letting go. In fact, the strong grip was practically crushing his hand.

Alan looked into the face of the boy who'd helped him up and realized he didn't know the person's name. But from the boy's appearance - he looked like a young Marine, complete with blond buzz cut - his grip, and his crowing and malicious smile, Alan could tell he wasn't amongst friends. That feeling grew stronger as the other football players came down the stairs and surrounded him.

"Nasty fall," the football player squeezing Alan's hand said to him. "You should be more careful. Good thing you weren't hurt, but then again, you do seem to be quite lucky today, don't you?"

Alan could guess from this comment that this guy had been somehow involved in the first-period chair-painting prank, although he wasn't in that class or any of Alan's other classes. Needless to say, this bully was only pretending friendliness, like a cat playing with its prey before killing it.

Alan looked around frantically.

Other students were crowding around, wondering what was happening, peering into the tight circle of athletes.

He felt a bit safer because of all of the attention from the other people, but at the same time he didn't recognize any friends in the crowd, much less any authority figures. Worse, people were already starting to drift away as the sight of two guys shaking hands was hardly interesting. They didn't realize Alan's hand was being crushed by a much stronger vise-grip hand.

Alan was strong and muscular, though lanky, but he was no match for this monstrously oversized high schooler opposing him and he knew there was no way he could free his hand on his own. So he said in a very loud voice, "Owww! Let go of my hand. You're hurting me!" He hoped to keep bystanders watching, and he was partly successful with that.

"Oooh, poor baby," the tall and very muscular athlete still squeezing Alan's hand replied sarcastically, applying even more pressure as he said this. From his huge build, he was likely a lineman. He taunted, "What are you going to do now that you don't have any of your teachers to help you? What did you do to Mr. Tompkins to get him to protect you like that, anyways? How many times did you kiss his ass? Or suck his cock?"

Alan was recovering his wits, and went on a verbal offensive, though it didn't seem that way at first. He said in a proud and loud voice, "Yes. I am gay. I'm a flaming homosexual. Here, let me suck your cock, too. Why don't you whip it out?" He reached for the boy's groin with his free hand.

Alan guessed correctly that his attacker was as sexually immature, insecure, and homophobic as the typical dumb jock stereotype, and luckily he was right.

The football player immediately let go of Alan's hand as if Alan had contagious homosexual "cooties" and backed away a few steps, pushing a couple of his flunkies aside in his hasty retreat.

Alan laughed with derision, pretending much more confidence than he actually felt. He knew from previous experience with bullies that the key thing was to not show any weakness, as most bullies only preyed on the weak. He considered making some kind of homosexual taunt, but decided he shouldn't push his luck. Instead, he said in a seemingly sincere voice, "Thanks for the help getting up," and then hurried down the stairs.

He heard one cry of "Fag!" but otherwise the football players didn't say anything or pursue him. While strong, none of them were particularly bright, and Alan's unexpected approach had left them confused. They were only slowly figuring out that Alan's "I'm a flaming homosexual" comment was a form of subtle sarcasm that would more or less render him immune to further homosexual taunts, their preferred insult of choice.

One hour later, Alan entered Glory's classroom with a scraped knee, scraped elbow, and a very sore hand. Needless to say, he was very much preoccupied by his setbacks and hardly paid any attention to Glory or what was happening in her class. He knew that while in one sense he may have foiled his attackers, in another sense his "victory" was actually a defeat because he'd only succeeded in making his enemies madder at him. The only good news was that no one had followed him between second and third periods. He figured they were probably regrouping and trying to figure out how to best get back at him.


Glory however, was confused. She'd spent most of the two previous class periods anticipating the moment when she'd be able to see Alan in the flesh again, only to find him quite disinterested in her. It wasn't that he was consciously trying to avoid her; he simply didn't seem to have her on his mind in any special way because he was so worried about the football players.

She thought, That's odd. And it's doubly odd given that Heather was acting in a very similar way the period before. Instead of glaring at me, as usual, Heather didn't seem to hear a word I was saying, as if she was simply spaced out and in her own world. Just like how Alan's acting right now. I wonder if he's going to be like this the whole class.

But Glory couldn't think about it for long, as she had a class to teach. However, her thoughts kept returning to thinking about Alan and Heather with every free moment she had, especially since Alan seemed to continue to ignore her, though he eventually did appear to focus on the class material a bit.

After some time, she noticed Alan's knee. Oh my God! That looks like a bad scrape. If I'm not mistaken, that looks like it's been bleeding pretty badly. And he hasn't even put a bandage on it or anything. He didn't have that at the end of first period, I know that!

Should I send him to the nurse? No. I have to try to stay low profile and not let everyone know how much I'm noticing him. I can't fawn all over him. But what's the deal? First Heather's limping around and now Alan is all scraped up with fresh bruises, and obviously neither of them have had P. E. yet. Did they get in a fight with each other? That would make a lot of sense. Oh no! What if they were having passionate, balls-to-the-wall sex with each other instead? Sex so wild, passionate, and violent that the two of them could barely stand up and walk away. After all, Alan's much more of a lover than a fighter.

That thought sent a surge of warmth through Glory that she immediately fought to stifle.

Knowing Alan, if he were really angry with Heather, he'd fight her with his weapon of choice: sex. I'm not sure how he'd do it, but I bet he'd find some way to triumph over her sexually, defeating her much more soundly than if he actually pummeled her with his fists. God, imagine that! What if he was angry with me and he wanted to teach me a lesson? Even with all my muscles from surfing, he's so much bigger than me. I'd never stand a chance! Actually, I would, but once he starts waving that cock of his around, I get weak in the knees and turn to mush. He'd attack me, lord over me, tear my clothes off, push me around, and leave me completely helpless to his overpowering sexual drive!

Then he'd rub that huge cock of his all over my face, forcing me to beg to suck it, making me humiliate myself as he smeared pre-cum all over my cheeks and forehead. And I'd suck it, God knows I would. And I'd LOVE it! But that's not all. He'd just be getting started. Once he had my face and mouth soaked in his cum, he'd turn his attention to my pussy. God have mercy on my soul, because he'd fuck me within an inch of my life! He'd fuck me until I cried mercy. In fact, he'd fuck me until I was screaming, moaning, and begging for mercy, and then he'd keep fucking me anyway!

Just like what he did with Heather, he'd fuck me so good and hard that I'd have as much trouble walking as she does! Why, I'll bet that he took her, and threw-

"Ms. Rhymer? Um, hello? Ms. Rhymer?" It was the voice of one of Glory's students, trying to ask a question.

Glory snapped out of her sexual thoughts and tried to answer the question, but she had trouble concentrating. Her nipples were rock hard and her pussy was throbbing.

As the class went on, it seemed that every line of thought she had led back to Alan, or sex, or even more often, Alan and sex. She still valiantly tried to give a lecture instead of just assigning in-class busy work, but she kept stumbling and spacing out, acting as nervously as if it was her first day teaching.

Some minutes later, she looked at Alan and began spacing out again. Damn that young man! He's still not looking at me. What do I have to do to get his attention? Maybe it's these God-damned clothes. Societal rules demand that I have to dress all prissy and conservative as a teacher, but why can't I express myself like everyone else? Why can't I look like a slutty tramp like Heather does?


I wanna teach dressed like a HOT TRAMP, God dammit! That would get Alan's attention and tear his mind away from that evil skank. Hell, it would get everyone's attention, and isn't that part of my job as a teacher, keeping their attention? A tight, hot, shiny, black leather short skirt kind of like what Heather is wearing today, an even tighter fire engine red top with my cleavage exposed all the way down-

She stopped herself as she realized she was running her hand over her chest and the student who had been speaking had stopped and was staring at her quizzically.

Damn again! she cursed. I must be losing my mind! The sooner I get Alan out of my system, the better off I'll be. I just have to get through these next few days and then it'll get easier. It's like going cold turkey from a heroin addiction.

She looked down and sadly realized she was still wearing the same old "prissy" clothes she'd put on that morning. With an internal sigh, she resumed her teaching lesson.

Since she was such a good teacher, a number of students noticed her odd behavior, but they generally assumed that even Ms. Rhymer had an off day every now and then.

Alan, though, was still so absorbed in his own problems that he remained oblivious.


When class ended, Glory could hardly wait until the last student besides Alan left, so she could find out what was going on. When she finally had her chance, she acted quite pouty and jealous. As Alan closed the door, she petulantly said from her chair behind her desk, "So, you really can turn it on and off, can't you? One day you seemed to care for me and desire me so much, but now you don't even know I exist! I know we've made a new platonic agreement, but you could show at least a little bit of longing and regret. The way you act, it's just plain, well... insulting!"

He walked over and sat on her desk. "What on Earth are you talking about?"

She looked up at him, a bit frightened to have him so near, but still angry from her jealousy. "Don't play dumb with me, young man! Whatever happened to your pledge to be totally honest with me?! I'm no fool! I know exactly what you and Heather have been up to."

"'Up to'? What do you mean?" He thought, She's smart as a whip and knows all the school gossip, but how could she possibly know what Heather, Simone, and I were doing this morning? Unless one of them talked...

"I mean, look at your scraped knee. And your elbow. And the way you've been holding your hand for half the class! And the way Heather's walking so funny! You must have given her the royal nailing of a lifetime! I mean, the other women you're with, I could forgive... no, that's not true. Let's not go there. But Heather! HEATHER! That's a direct slap in my face!"

He laughed inwardly, but was careful not to show any outward signs of his amusement so as to not hurt her feelings. But as he recovered from that, his amusement at her interpretation turned to concern that she would feel hurt if he didn't straighten things out.

"Glory, wait a minute. You've got it all wrong. It's true I played around with Heather a bit before school, but to be blunt, I didn't put myself into her pussy or ass, thank you very much. My scratches aren't from that, they're from tumbling down the stairs after being pushed by some football players! The same ones, I should point out, who were behind the whole painted chair thing!"

"Oh," she said, slowly reassessing. She felt her righteous indignation start to ebb, even though she figured that if he hadn't fucked Heather it was only because he'd fucked someone else. She also correctly guessed that there was a good reason he only mentioned not putting his dick in Heather's ass or pussy, and failed to mention her mouth. The idea of him doing anything sexual at all with Heather irritated her so much that she barely could think about his football player problems.

He continued, "Not only that, but remember that I wasn't scraped up like this when you were cleaning paint off me this morning. And I've had nothing but classes since then."

"Oh. That's right." I suppose I'm just jumping to conclusions and making groundless accusations. Something did make Heather walk funny though, and I have a strong suspicion he's somehow behind it... although she was wearing those ridiculously high heels today, so that could be the reason, or at least part of the reason. The stupid bitch has no idea how to walk in heels.

I have a feeling that his newfound policy of total honesty doesn't involve him volunteering information about the other women he's involved with, though he'll probably answer if I know to ask the right question. But I don't really want to know more about that bitch's twisted sexual games and how she's ensnared poor Alan in them. At least not right now.

The conversation naturally turned after Alan straightened out Glory's misconceptions.

Her feelings of jealousy quickly faded even though she was still miffed that he'd been with Heather at all.

He explained all the latest developments in his troubles with the football players, and got a lot of genuine sympathy from her about it. She fell into the role of nurse, taking out a first-aid kit and cleaning up his scrapes. He didn't just have scrapes on his knee and elbow but in fact had scratches all over, though luckily the others were all minor or superficial. Band-aids took care of the cuts on the knees and elbows where he'd actually bled.

But in the course of examining, cleaning, and tending his wounds, once again she came into very close contact with his body. It was almost more than she could take, especially given the earlier contact. She might have lost control and reverted to all out fondling except for the fact that he kept talking about his assault and the football players, leaving her more angry than aroused. She was very proud that she'd resisted temptation when at long last she successfully disengaged and declared him all cleaned up.

However, she still wasn't in the clear, because he was still in front of her and her hormones were still raging for him. All the close contact with his body had worked her up, even if it was just little things like smelling his body odor and subtly caressing his skin here and there (usually under the guise of patting an area she'd cleaned and declaring it "all better").

After they'd discussed the football player problem and possible courses of action, the conversation turned to his homework. The plan was that he would use lunch with her to actually do some homework, but they ended up talking about homework and his lack of motivation in doing it instead. This was bad news for her, because now that the conversation had moved on and she wasn't so indignant, her mind was free to wander.

She thought, I wonder if he's still hard. I can't see a bulge, which is unusual. But knowing him, he's almost certainly hard. Even with all his football player problems, he must be suffering terrible blue balls on top of all that. I can't immediately help out with the football players, but I could relieve his condition. I guess a proper fucking would be out of the question since we're supposed to be broken up, I mean, since we ARE broken up, but would just a little blowjob or two be so bad, between friends? Look how worried he is. I'll bet ten to fifteen minutes of cocksucking and titfucking would put his worries at ease.

She seemed to take everything he said the wrong way. For instance, he mentioned, "I've fallen really far behind in my English class. I'm going to have to do some serious cramming to catch up."

He intended no double meaning, but Glory heard the words "serious cramming" and went all dreamy. Serious cramming, eh? Well, young man, I have some news for you: you're going to have to do some serious cramming for my class as well! In fact, there's no time like the present. Take that hot, fleshy fuck-hammer and cram it into my tight, slippery hole right now! Pound me with your fuck-hammer, my love! Alan! Please! Don't just sit there, looking at me like that. Do it! Do me! Now!


"Huh?" Glory snapped back to reality again. "What? Did I miss something?"

"I was just saying that I might even have to pull an all-nighter, if the teacher makes us do that assignment like he's been threatening to do."


Glory immediately fell back into her sexual fugue. An all-nighter, eh? You are going to have to pull an all-nighter, all right, with your favorite teacher! More like a push and pull, in and out, over and over, do it to her all-nighter, hee-hee! It's so hard! So hot! So thick! So tasty and juicy and wonderful! Alan, take me! Right now! Throw me on my desk and do me right here!

She began to visualize such a scene so clearly that her pussy juices began to flow. Make love to your hot tramp of a teacher! No, none of this "make love" bullshit; FUCK ME! Can't you see a woman who needs your expert-


"Yes? What is it?" She reflexively clamped her legs together.

"Well, it's just that you seem to be staring at me so intently. Is there something on my face or something?" He was genuinely confused since he wasn't in a sexual mood at all, and too flummoxed from his rather stressful morning to notice her usual signs of arousal. The reason she didn't see a bulge in his shorts was because he was flaccid.

"Um, no. I guess I'm just still thinking about the football players and how that one brute tripped you at the top of the stairs. How horrible! We may no longer be intimate with each other, but I still care about you deeply. I'm so worried!"

"Don't worry. I'm going to tackle this, and your help is vital and very much appreciated. Frankly, in the long term, I'm more worried about my homework problem. I feel like I'm in a deep hole. I thought that I was bound for a good college for sure, like Berkeley, but lately..."

Alan's words faded away as Glory glommed onto the phrase "I'm in a deep hole" and ran with it. You are in a deep hole, my young sex stud! My hole! My needy hole is going to be filled so deep by your throbbing, probing manliness!

Ah, what's wrong with me? I need to focus. He's going to ask me a question about some serious problems any minute now, and I need to focus. On his words. Not on the hole. The deep, needy hole. The desperate, wet, and eager hole. No... On his words! The words! Focus! Focus, Glory! What's wrong with me? It's over! Over between us! He'll be going to Berkeley next fall, so it's doomed between us anyway. Besides, think about all those other women he has. Think about him making love to his own mother or sister! Let that cool you down. Incest! Disgusting!

Huh, why isn't that working very well? Somehow I get to thinking about Suzanne and her impossibly curvy body. I saw her stick out her tongue once at that one parents' night - it was positively unreal. I'll bet a tongue like that could jack off Alan's penis like a dainty hand, sliding all around it like a huge snake. Good Lord! ... Quick, think of something else!

I know! I'll think of him with that super-bitch. Imagine the good and kind Alan filling that evil bitch whore Heather with his tasty seed! She doesn't deserve him. It's so WRONG! Think of him pounding that magnificent cock into her slutty, skanky, diseased, and gaping hole. Yuck! How can he be fucking her before school today when, at the same time, I've been reduced to fighting the urge to fondle myself under my skirt driving to school when I stop at every stoplight? It's not right! Alan should be mine! Alan, I love you! I need you! But it's wrong! Wrong! You'll only hurt me. I can't! Can't! Must resist!

"Glory, what's wrong now?" he asked. "Look at the way you're clenching your hands. Did you space out?"

"Oh. Sorry. I just can't get those damned football players out of my head. Let's go back to that topic, because I'm kind of obsessing about it..."

And so it went. She was a wreck. Returning the conversation to the football players engaged a bit more of her attention, but not much. Everything he said seemed to be a sexy innuendo to her, when in fact nothing he said was meant that way.

She was extremely relieved when he left about ten minutes before the lunch period was over.

As he left, she thought, That was close! It was all I could do not to up and rape the poor guy. But these feelings will pass. They will. Won't they? As time goes on the urge has to fade, or else I'm in deep trouble. I'm going to have to do something soon to take the edge off until I can find a new boyfriend or something. Maybe I should go shopping tonight for some new sex toys and simply pleasure myself so much while at home that my pussy is too sore for me to even BEGIN to think about sex. Yes! That not only sounds like a good idea, it sounds like a hell of a lot of fun.

Of course, I'll be dreaming and thinking about Alan the whole time, but maybe if I do that with abandon for the next couple of days, I'll actually get sick of him. Kind of like drinking until you can't even stand the sight of alcohol. Something like that has to work, or else...

I hate to picture it, but just imagine, me, Gloria Rhymer, crawling on my hands and knees, begging him to take me back. That would be so horribly embarrassing... not to mention unbearably arousing! Oh God! Crawling naked to his toned, muscled, and extremely erect body! That penis, GOD, I love that penis! My own student. Submitting myself, prostrating myself, giving my body and my SOUL to one of my own students! Begging to be filled in each and every hole! Crawling to touch- ... Arrgh! Stop it Glory! Stop it! You're obsessed!


Alan left Glory early because he wanted to check on Heather and see if his "treatment" was working on her or not. His desire to find this out was so strong and his opportunities to make contact with her before school ended were so limited that he decided to do something he'd never done at school before: visit Heather while she resided at her "throne."

Back in the days when Alan ate lunch in the school cafeteria, he knew the "rules" of cafeteria seating reasonably well, and he was sure they hadn't changed in the two months since he'd stopped going there. All the different social cliques had their different zones in the cafeteria, and few ever sat down in or even lingered within the territory of a clique one did not belong to. Heather, naturally, sat at the most prestigious table in the school elite zone.

Alan, thanks to all of his romantic and sexual successes, didn't belong in the nerd zone anymore, but he also didn't belong in the elite zone, as he hadn't put in the time and kissed enough asses to become one of the elites, and he didn't know anyone in the large group of "unaffiliated" students to feel comfortable there either, or with any other group, for that matter. One of the reasons why he no longer ate at the school cafeteria or even visited there much was that he didn't know where he belonged anymore. If he did eat lunch away from Glory, he preferred to be one of the few who sat outside in the sun, especially since Katherine and Amy usually sat there these days (they didn't like the clique battles, either).

So it was a bold move when he simply walked right up to Heather's table and sat down next to her, squeezing in to make room for himself. She was surrounded by her usual flunkies, all gorgeous babes that he had admired from afar at one time or another. But aside from Simone, who was sitting right next to Heather, he knew very few of them by name (other cheerleaders like Kim and Joy sat at a table near Heather's table - not even any of them were "worthy" of sitting at Heather's table, mostly because they hadn't sucked up to her enough lately). In recent weeks, a couple of the girls at the table had chatted him up, fishing for a date invitation, but he'd turned them all down, since he already had more women that he could handle.

Aside from Simone, and Heather's friend and main rival Donna, the table was a uniform sea of tanned skins, daringly exposed cleavage, and blonde heads (usually bottle-enhanced). Simone felt awkward and unwanted at times as the only black girl in the entire female school elite, and often sensed derision from her other black friends, but her love-hate friendship with Heather was so important to her that it overrode all other concerns.

Alan's move was so unexpected that a hush fell over the dozen or so girls at Heather's table (though he was pleased to see people at the other tables were too busy with their own boisterous activities to pay any notice).

Heather, though, seemed oblivious to the possibility that he might be doing something unusual. She merely gave him a friendly smile and cheerfully said, "Hiya! What's up, Sir?"

Alan looked at her more closely. She had a very unusual facial expression. On one hand, she had the glazed over look of a happy drunk. But on the other hand, she wore a grimace, as if she had a bad case of hemorrhoids. He knew that the Bitch Trainer was the cause of both facial expressions, but to see the two looks coexist on one face was odd, to say the least.

Further, she was obviously sexually aroused because her nipples were poking through her peach-colored top even more than usual. He could tell she wasn't wearing a bra, since he'd commanded her not to the day before. He made a mental note to finally look into how she so flagrantly violated the school's dress code, day after day.

The other girls were all staring intently at Alan and Heather and obviously trying to puzzle out this unwanted intrusion. The mere fact that Heather didn't reflexively freeze him out of the area and send him packing with her usual haughty sneer helped confirm for the other girls that the two of them had some kind of special relationship. Few had any doubts something sexual was going on. But the exact nature of their relationship still remained mysterious, and the fact that Heather had just called him "sir" without any apparent sarcasm or irony greatly deepened the mystery. So they all erred on the side of caution and didn't say anything.

Alan didn't want Heather's flunkies to overhear, so with a few discreet comments, he got Heather and Simone to stand up and walk far enough away from the table for them to have some privacy.

Then he asked Heather in a low voice, "How's it going?"


"Good!" She said brightly, gazing at him intently. "You're the best! ... Uh, Sir!" She giggled at that. "But it's so sad..." Her appearance completely changed as she said this last bit, and her face turned forlorn as if she recalled her puppy being run over.

He realized he'd never seen her quite like this before. It was as if he was talking to a child. He asked, "What's sad?"

Still with an exaggerated mournfulness, Heather explained, "I heard about what those guys tried to do to you this morning. That's just wrong! I'll tell you, they're going to regret it. Just you wait and see."

He was pleased that she seemed a bit more coherent as she said that, and thought, Wow, she actually cares about me a bit?

But then she spaced out entirely and gazed off across the room.

He wanted answers and fast, so he turned to Simone and asked her in a low voice, "What's happening here?"

Simone murmured back, quiet enough that not even Heather could hear, "As you can see, Heather's kind of spacing out at the moment. It's the Bitch Trainer. It's the only thing she'll talk to me about, practically, when she's actually talking. Most of the time she's happy just to smile and enjoy whatever it's doing to her."

"Wow. I didn't think she'd be affected THAT strongly."

"Me either," Simone admitted. "I can only hope that she'll get used to it soon enough, or else she's going to turn into some kind of living Barbie bimbo airhead."

"Dang. That's not what I want. I'm going to have to work on this and, I guess, try to fine tune things. As usual, she's so frigging high maintenance. But is she with it enough to do something about the football players?"

"Kind of. We've been talking about it a bit, but we haven't had much time and she's just not concentrating that much. Or rather, she is, but not on that topic, if you catch my drift. But we sent the word through the grapevine to find out more, and we've already learned that the problem seems to be with just the defensive linemen. Apparently they're a really tight group. They're all such big motherfuckers they think they can do anything and get away with it."

Simone didn't bother to mask her distaste of them in the slightest. "The rest of the football team seems to be in complete disarray after the suspensions last week and everything. And remember how Heather sowed all kinds of dissent over the weekend? Well that seems to be working, especially since our team got creamed so badly Friday night on the field."

Alan just looked blankly at Simone. "They did? I thought they won just about all their games."

"You mean you haven't heard about Friday's game?!" Simone incredulously rolled her eyes at Alan. "Your sister's a cheerleader, your 'official' girlfriend's a cheerleader, you've got the head cheerleader's ASS wrapped around your dick half the time, and you STILL haven't heard about the most humiliating loss by our football team since, like, ever?!"

Alan, for once, didn't have anything to say. He looked over at Heather's vacant expression, then his eyes drifted down to her lightly jiggling breasts. He quickly tore his eyes away and looked back at Simone.

Simone imperiously held up a hand to forestall any protests of cluelessness on his part. "Never mind. Look, all you need to know is that except for this one group of about eight players, Heather's got them all pretty much pussy whipped into submission. They can't play as a team to save their lives because she's got them at each other's throats, after all the mind games she's played on them lately."

"Ah. Wow."


"Yeah. A pretty neat trick, eh?" Simone flashed her beautiful ivory teeth in a predatory grin before turning serious again.

Alan checked out her busty chest and noted that she at least continued to wear a bra, although it appeared her nipples had gotten hard since she'd started talking to him. He forced his eyes back up to her face as she continued to speak.

Simone noticed where his eyes wandered and felt a flicker of pride that he preferred to look at her charms instead of Heather, standing very close by. "But there's still those eight at least, taking advantage of the fact that about half the male student body either envies or hates you, what with all these rumors going around about you. You should especially watch out for a couple of unusually big guys, Ryan and Jerry, who seem to be the ringleaders. You know them?"

Alan let his eyes drift back down to her inspirational rack, but said seriously, "I unfortunately met, uh, Ryan, I think, today on the stairs, and Jerry is in my first-period class. He's a total ass; he always sits in the back and keeps his head down so he won't get called on. But both of them are like walking refrigerators. They make the guy who clocked me last week look small, so, needless to say, I'm hoping things won't get violent. What's Heather doing about them?"

Simone glanced over at Heather, who was still zoned out. "Not much. Except that she's already put the word out that they should be treated like social pariahs. We didn't even explain why; we just told everyone to treat them like shit, and at least Heather's extended circle will. By now I'm sure those guys are already beginning to feel the blowback. In a matter of days, if 'the bitchy one' keeps sending out the vibes and steps up the pressure, not even their own parents will want to talk to them. And I'm only just exaggerating a teensy little bit on that. Seriously."

"Wow. Double wow. I had no idea she was THAT powerful in this school. That's kind of scary." He thought of the problems Heather had caused the football team and nearly shuddered in fear. But he looked at her standing only a few feet away, and saw she was still happily staring off into space as if she'd had a frontal lobotomy. That fact made him feel a bit better, as it reminded him that she had some very sizeable vulnerabilities. He consoled himself that at least as long as she needed him for his anal skills, he wasn't in too much danger from her vengeance.

Simone leaned in even closer, and conspiratorially whispered, "Why do you think I've stayed such good friends with her? A big part of it is self-protection. I'm beginning to gather you didn't have ANY idea who you were messing with when you started fucking around with her, did you? Hell, I think that she could turn even you into a complete outcast if she wanted to."

"Hmmm. Okay, I'll admit I am a bit clueless about some of this social stuff. I never paid any attention back when I was a nerd, because what did it matter to me? I guess when it came to her, ignorance was bliss. But how-"

Heather who'd been standing just a couple of feet away the whole time, finally got impatient and interrupted, "Hey, you guys, what are you talking about there?"

"Oh, nothing," Alan replied, now speaking loud enough for both Simone and Heather to hear, but quiet enough so the girls at Heather's table couldn't. He said in slightly coded language, "I was just checking with my assistant to see how your training is coming along. I think we might need a spot check."

Heather's eyes went wide and she licked her lips. "Mmmm. Delicious idea. I know just the place. Come on!"

So the three of them left the cafeteria. The remains of Heather and Simone's lunches were left behind, unfinished and abandoned, at the table where Heather held court. Speculation ran rampant among Heather's friends as to just exactly what they'd seen (but not overheard) might mean for the social hierarchy, as soon as it became apparent that she wasn't returning to her "throne." The talk focused on her use of the word "sir."


The three of them headed to the "stinky bathroom" that was almost never used, since they didn't have time to go all the way to the theater room in the five or so minutes left in the lunch period.

Heather kept wanting to run, but her five inch heels and her Bitch Trainer effectively limited her speed to something that wouldn't get them noticed by a teacher. In fact, the way she swished and swayed in her shiny black short shorts as she attempted to merely walk fast, not to mention her big, braless breasts bouncing inside her shirt, was like a porno film in motion.

Alan hadn't been in a sexual mood at all ever since falling down the stairs, though Simone's ebony orbs had nearly put his dick at attention. He didn't want to get revved up in the last minutes of lunch only to be stuck with a raging hard-on he could do nothing to relieve for the last two periods of school. So he volunteered to stand guard outside, pointing out that spot checks and all other dildo loading and unloading duties were Simone's full responsibility now. He loitered in front of the "stinky" ladies room while Heather and Simone went in, heading into one of the toilet stalls.

Simone had been mostly quiet during the morning Inner Bitch Training session and during most of her previous encounters with Alan, in part because she felt a bit intimidated by him, and because she hadn't really developed a close rapport with him yet. But left alone with only the strangely subdued Heather, she took full advantage of her opportunity to reverse roles.

"Okay, bitch," she imperiously demanded, "drop those shorts, and then put them over your head so you can't see. Then grab onto something so you can stick your slutty ass up as high as you can. I want to see your ass way up here by my face! Now!"

"But Simone..."

"That's 'ma'am' to you now," Simone murmured menacingly. "Didn't you hear Alan this morning?" She smiled a sweetly dangerous smile at her best friend.

Heather immediately began unzipping her black leather shorts. "Okay, ma'am. But aren't you being mean? I know that I've been slutty, and a bitch, but... I mean, we're still best friends, right?"

Simone looked at her, who was now trying to wiggle and shimmy out of her extremely tight shorts. It took some effort, but she got them down and pulled down her "butt floss" undies with them.

Heather then gave her a sad puppy dog look that Simone hadn't even realized her friend was capable of.

Simone rolled her eyes and thought with chagrin, Great. Now that the shoe is finally on the other foot, she gets all weird on me so I can't even have any fun with it. Why do I like her so much when she's such a pain all the time? I just don't have the heart... especially when she's looking at me like that. Grrr!

So Simone changed her approach. Taking a page from Alan's playbook, she got more aggressive. "Just a minute. You'd better take your top off too. It's in my way."

"In your way? In your WAY?! Are you fucking loony?! How will this tight little powder blue top that doesn't even go down to my belly button stop you from reaching my ass? And what if someone comes in here?! You're going to leave me completely buck naked in a public place!"

"Have you forgotten to say 'ma'am' again?"


Heather stared at Simone incredulously for a few moments, and then smiled. "I think I like the new Simone. Ma'am. She's pure evil." She shimmied out of her tight top and got back on the toilet. "How's that, ma'am?"

Simone gave a naughty smile back. "Now you're starting to get it." She became all business. "Heather, let's hurry. Alan says you can't see your Bitch Trainers yet until you earn that privilege, so put something over your eyes. Meanwhile, can you please concentrate? What are we going to do about these football caveman types?"

Heather considered putting her shorts over her eyes as Simone demanded, but the leather was too stiff for it to easily work as a blindfold. To her great embarrassment, she had to use her "butt floss" panties instead. The only part of them with any fabric at all was the part that fit right over her pussy, and that was soaked through with pussy juice. But lacking time and alternatives and not wanting to upset her well-hung lover waiting just outside the bathroom, she closed the eyes and wrapped the panties around her head.

She even managed to tie them behind her head. She couldn't help but inhale the pussy juice that soaked her nose and cheeks. The smell and the humiliation somehow endeared Alan to her even more, while at the same time inflaming her desire to get him back for his impudence.

Then she stuck her ass up as high as she could while gripping as little of the toilet as she could manage. She sighed. "Simone, ma'am, I just can't get fired up with anger like usual, even after what they did to him. All I can think about is my Bitch Trainer. It's like I'm being fucked in the ass non-stop, all day! It almost feels that good! Do you realize how GOOD it feels? Do you have any idea?!"

"You've only told me about a million times in the last couple of hours," Simone pointed out, while rolling her eyes.

"Sorry. But it's true! Alan is so awesome. So manly. And to think that I was going to actually-" She abruptly cut herself off, then gasped as she felt Simone's fingers penetrate her asshole.

"What?" Simone asked as she found the Bitch Trainer with her fingertips. "All right slut, push that Bitch Trainer out of your ass right now and show it to me. Like you did this morning. C'mon, push! Now, what were you going to do?"

Heather bore down with her powerful internal muscles, and with a sexy groan her tight asshole slowly opened up, until eventually a couple inches of dildo suddenly slid out. She then stopped pushing long enough to pant, "I... Well, it's mostly Ms. Rhymer that needs to be taught a lesson, but that's neither here nor there. I just don't feel like striking back at... Wait. Let me try to think about the football problem instead... Uh! Shit, I cannot believe you have me buck naked in a public restroom. OH!"

She let out a little shriek as Simone suddenly took a firm grasp of the dildo protruding from her ass and pulled it all the way out in one long drawn out stroke. Her asshole even made a popping sound as her Bitch Trainer left her butt.

"How does that feel?" Simone asked, playfully spanking a trembling butt cheek, but clearly referring to Heather's newly vacated ass.

Heather waited a long time before answering. "Strange. Good, in a way. I've been kind of longing to get it out. I've been feeling bloated like I'm having an enema aaaalll day. Can you imagine what that feels like?" She suddenly sighed, inhaled deeply of the cum-drenched panties covering her eyes and nose, and then spread her legs open a little wider. "But it's funny: now that it's out, I want it back in!"

Simone smiled. "I think that can be arranged." She slowly forced the big dildo all the way back inside Heather's shivering backside.

Heather instinctively curved her back so as to present the best possible angle for the penetration of her powerfully throbbing asshole.

"Ugh! Oh! God yes! FUCK! Fuck, that's good. Thank you, ma'am! Oh Jesus Christ, do I love that! But now that it's in, there's a part of me that wants it out. I don't know if I can make it to the end of the day, feeling that full."

"Well, we'll work on that in a minute. But first, what are you going to do about the football players?"

"God, I don't know. Ask me again after school, after I've recovered from this ... thing! This invasion! Oh, fuck, it feels so good. But, uh, I'm thinking, simply putting those guys on the shit list isn't going to do it. In fact, that'll probably just make them angrier and more desperate, like cornered rats."

Simone teased Heather's anus with delicate brushes of her fingertips, which made her asshole flutter and throb as her entire body shuddered. She noted, "Good point." She found herself fascinated by the way Heather's tanned muscular buttocks were clenching and jumping, making them wobble slightly out of sync with each other.

Heather continued, "We should try to use the rest of the football team to- oh! Ungh... Put peer pressure on them. Divide and conquer. We've already neutralized or- ah! ... co-opted most of the other players; now we can use those guys like weapons. Peel off the timid or half-hearted out of this lineman group and then go for the jugular with the core troublemakers."

"I like it." Simone was glad to see Heather could still plot with the Bitch Trainer in, if she put her mind to it and didn't just space out. "A typical Heather move. But what kind of fatal blow were you planning on giving them?" She pulled her hand away, wondering what Heather would do.

Heather paused. "I- I don't know. Something like expelling them, but that just seems too mean somehow."

Simone raised her eyebrow. She'd never heard Heather ever describe any tactic as "too mean" before. She decided to postpone the rest of this conversation until after school, when Heather would presumably have more of her bitchiness (not to mention her brains) back after an hour with her ass empty during cheerleader practice. "Hmmm. Well, let's finish up here first. Everything seems in order with your Bitch Trainer, but we can't be too thorough. Let me check again..."

Heather bore down a second time, putting pressure on her dildo (and obviously enjoying doing so) until it breached her anus once more.

Simone then pulled the dildo all the way back out, ever so tantalizingly slowly with one hand, while reaching forward and running her fingers over Heather's pussy lips with the other.

"FUCKING GOOD!" Heather arched her back again and lifted her blindfolded head up high, gasping as she fought the urge to rock her hips back and forth.

"Ssssh! They'll hear you in the hallway," Simone chided as she tweaked Heather's clit.

"God, don't remind me!" Heather yelled far too loudly as she very nearly had a great climax.

Simone rolled her eyes because she knew that what Heather meant was that the prospect of other people overhearing was so deliciously intoxicating that she couldn't stand to think about it at the moment, as she was too aroused already. But Simone could hardly chide Heather about this, because she found the idea of getting caught to be a huge turn-on as well. She pulled on Heather's clit yet again, but she knew Heather's sexual responses well enough to keep her just short of her much needed orgasmic relief.

"Yeah! Oh, Simone! Just like that! Ma'am! Yes, ma'am!" Heather giggled with pure joy as her asshole throbbed powerfully, clenching and relaxing around her slowly departing dildo.

There was a knock on the door, and Alan poked his head in. He couldn't see Simone or Heather as they were inside one of the toilet stalls, but he said in a low voice that carried across the room, "Hey, you two, the hallways have emptied out. I can't wait any longer! The school bell is going to ring any second. I've got to go!"

Simone popped her head out of the stall and looked at Alan with pretend concern. "We're got a problem. You have to come see this."

Alan took a peek back out at the hallway, and then reluctantly decided to come in. "Okay, but just a sec. What is it?"

"Look at her," Simone said, moving aside so Alan could have a full view into the stall.

He looked. After a couple of long moments he asked, "What?"

Simone gave him a wicked grin. "Isn't she sexy? I mean, look at her! Not only is she totally naked aside from her black heels, but do you know what she's using for a blindfold? Those are her cum-soaked panties! And just look at that ass. My God, what an ass! How can I not be bisexual, looking at an ass like that? Her asshole's all full now, but her pussy's empty and needy. You could help her out with that." She huskily whispered that last sentence directly into Alan's ear.

Alan groaned with arousal. "You're evil, do you know that? My whole idea was to not get a boner, and you screwed that."

Simone ran a hand up his arm, squeezing and admiring his muscles. "Hmmm. Guess you'll just have to fuck all that evil out of me. Let's get you a hall pass so you can stay and play."

Alan was sorely tempted, but the fear of getting caught drove him back to the door. "That's totally nuts! You don't even have someone standing guard now. I've gotta go!"

"You go then, Sir," Heather answered, her heavy breathing betraying the rising tide of her lust. "Simone, ma'am, I think this spot check is just getting started, don't you?"

Simone laughed. "Yep! Alan, don't worry. Heather and I have the same class for fifth period, and she has the teacher wrapped around her little finger. We can be as late as we want. Everything seems fine over here, but we're just going to do a thorough in and out check to be sure, oh... another couple dozen times!" Simone and Heather both laughed heartily at that. "You sure you don't want to stay?"

"Can't. My next teacher isn't so spellbound by my nipples," he joked. "I'm out of here. Be careful!" He closed the door and ran down the hallway to his next class, cursing his renewed erection.

The bell rang just a few seconds later.

Simone slowly pushed the dildo back into Heather's hungry ass, while her fingers worked their way up into the haughty blonde's pussy. Everything she did caused Heather to moan and groan louder and lustier than before. "Ssssh!" she whispered. "Let's not get caught the first day. He does have a point about needing a guard, even if we are in this stall."

Heather reflexively lifted her head up and turned to look over her shoulder at Simone, but blindfolded as she was with her own wet "butt floss," she couldn't see a thing. She gasped out, "The first day? Oh yes. The first day of spot checks! I think we're going to need a lot of these spot checks, don't you? And then I'm going to have to check you out pretty thoroughly too. It might even take the whole lunch period sometimes!" Her entire body shivered with anticipation.

"Agreed, girl! This whole Bitch Trainer program is quite complicated. I'm going to have to fill you in on a few points, if you know what I mean." Simone ground the dildo in even deeper to illustrate exactly what kind of filling she was talking about.


"I do!" Heather laughed and groaned, as the dildo slowly came out. She was so excited that her pussy was flowing like a raging river. Further, her nostrils were so filled with the smell of her own juices that she thought she would pass out.

Simone impulsively leaned forward and kissed Heather as high up her body as she could easily reach, which was her upper back. She wanted to kiss her on the lips, because she felt so happy and intimate with her. She'd made love with Heather seemingly countless times before, but there was a different vibe in the air this time.

She thought, If the old Heather saw herself like this, bent over in the "stinky bathroom" and begging to take a big fat dildo up the ass while wearing her undies on her head for a blindfold, making an already ridiculous scene seem even more messed up than even I could imagine, she'd have blown her top and gone thermonuclear on anyone who saw her! And yet here she is, loving every second of it. And somehow it makes me love her even more. I love her when she shows her strength, but also when she shows her weakness, too. So who's the more fucked up and crazy, her or me?

Simone didn't yet fully understand how Heather was temporarily transformed by the dildo, but she liked what she'd seen so far. And, she realized, if she ever wanted or needed the bitchy Heather, for instance to scheme against the football players, she could simply keep her ass empty for a while.


Alan was careful to walk from class to class with a friend at all times, just to be on the safe side. He was grateful that Christine seemed keen to stick to his side as much as their mostly-overlapping class schedules made possible, since he knew that she had significant martial arts training. He did get some nasty looks and muttered insults from the football players or their friends, but that was all.

He started asking around and confirmed that the bully who had tormented him in the stairway was indeed a defensive lineman named Ryan. But Alan found out little more than what Simone had told him, since Ryan and his friends were in the remedial educational track, just squeaking through to graduation, and no one Alan knew was in that track. Ryan was said to be surprisingly smart for a remedial student; apparently he just didn't apply himself in class. Alan resolved to learn more about his enemies, and quickly.

He considered going to the vice principal or some other school official to get help, but he knew they could only do so much. He suspected that Ryan or his allies might use some underhanded and not exactly legal tactics of their own to fight back, so it would be prudent to keep the authorities out of the squabble at least for the time being. He specifically thought about possible help from Heather, which might be simultaneously both the most helpful and the most morally dubious. He knew that Heather would have to be rewarded for her help, which could cause all kinds of conflicting troubles if she continued to otherwise act so rebelliously, as he strongly suspected she would.

Alan had plans to go to the S-Club meeting/orgy directly after school, but since Sean would be there he'd confirmed with Katherine and Amy just before the start of P. E. that they wouldn't attend this time. In addition to letting them know about Sean's attendance, he also gave them a very truncated account of what had happened between him and the football players.

When he walked to the P.E. building for his sixth period tennis, he was surprised to see Christine waiting there for him. Her arms were crossed under her tremendous breasts. She asked in a peevish tone, "Just where do you think you're going?"

"Um, tennis? Where else?"

She looked down at his scraped skin. "Like that?"

"What? They're just scratches. There isn't even any blood."

"So? You've got a lot of bruises. You've already been traumatized by TWO incidents against you today, and those guys are still gunning for you. You know a great place for an ambush?"


She pointed to the building they were standing in front of. "In there! You've got a bunch of big jocks out for blood. Why don't you go straight in to where they're all gathered and say, 'Please, just kick my ass now?'"

"Hmmm. Good point," he admitted. "I hadn't thought of that."

She said with exasperation, "That's because you're mentally retarded! I'm gonna keep you safe whether you like it or not." She started walking away from the building, expecting him to follow.

He followed, but then asked in confusion, "But... what about... coach? He's not going to like it if I just fail to show up."

"That's why, when you were doing God knows what during lunch, I was thinking ahead and making arrangements. I got you permission to go to 'study hall' instead for today." She made mocking air-quotes as she said "study hall."

"Well... cool! Thanks. But what about you?"

She sighed huffily. "As if I'd just leave you alone. I got a pass too, dummy. You see, I'm a witness to the chair-painting incident. The only thing is, you and I have to spend our study hall writing up our accounts of what happened."

"Oh, well, that should be pretty easy." Then he realized he'd already put his backpack in his locker since he didn't need any of that stuff for tennis. "Let's go this way then. I need to stop by my locker."

She pointed to her backpack, slung over her shoulder. "Don't sweat it. I've got pens and paper for both of us in here."

"Oh." He resumed following her. "You've thought of everything, haven't you? Where are we going then?"

She looked back at him and smiled. "I figure Mr. Tompkins had the right idea today, having the class outside. Nobody is gonna bother to supervise our 'study hall,' so why don't we relax on the grassy knoll where we sometimes sit, near the cafeteria."

He grinned. "Ah. The grassy knoll. Okay. You know, you're pretty smart... for a blonde." He winked impishly, hoping she'd take that in the joking spirit he intended.

She was not amused, so she looked back and rolled her eyes. "I would kill you now, but I have a rule about not attacking the wounded."

He pretended to wipe his brow. "Whew! Close call."

"Come on, you big dope, with your stupid dumb-blonde jokes. You know why brunette guys like dumb-blonde jokes so much?"


"Because they can understand them."

"Ouch! ... But honestly, one reason I like that kind of joke is because, for the good ones, sometimes you have to stop and think for a second to get the punchline. For instance, this guy got on a plane in New York, but he had a middle seat, and the plane was going all the way to London. How did he get the blonde sitting in the window seat next to him to switch seats?"

Christine said, "I'm afraid you're gonna tell me."

"Yep! He explained that it was just the middle seats going to London." After he heard Christine grudgingly snicker, he said, "You see? It's not obvious at first, and you need details like the plane going non-stop over the Atlantic for it to work."

"Yeah, whatever. How 'bout a smart-blonde joke for a change?"

"Okay, sure. What do smart blondes and UFOs have in common?"


"You always hear about them but you never see them."

She put a hand over her mouth to hide her reaction, but she couldn't help but chuckle at that.

"A-ha! I heard you laugh," he said triumphantly.

"No, that's just a sound I make right before I kill someone." She gave him a fierce look, and then laughed playfully. "Someone who knows too many dumb-blonde jokes!"

They both had a good laugh at that.

They reached the grassy knoll. They found two close-together trees and each sat under one of them, so they could get comfy and face each other. Christine took out her writing materials and explained their assignment.

They each finished their report in less than five minutes.

Alan said, "Geez, that was easy. Are you sure that's it?"


"What now, then?"

"Nothing. We can just kick back and relax. You've had a busy, stressful day. You could use a break."

"You could say that again! Do you mind if I just close my eyes and chill out for a few minutes? I don't plan on taking a nap but, like you said, it would be nice to kick back and relax for a little while."

"Okay. Sure. I guess I'll get started on my homework." She pulled one of her textbooks out of her backpack.

Alan closed his eyes. That figures. Her study habits put mine to shame, especially lately. Still, I could use a little "zone out" time. Today has been extra busy and very stressful! I got attacked... TWICE! Then there was that whole weird thing with Heather and Simone and the dildo in the bathroom. And I had some interesting moments with Glory; the tip of my dick very nearly bounced off her nose! Heh-heh! Going further back, I had a nice time fucking Simone before school. And the double blowjob with her and Heather was outstanding! Dang! And what about all the fun I had with Mom and Sis before I even left home? My dick was being licked pretty much from the moment I woke up! Then, of course, I've got another S-Club meeting to look forward to shortly.

Yep, just another typical day in the life of a typical teen! Heh!

But the thing is, I know it sounds ridiculous, but having so much sexual fun REALLY IS stressful! I swear, everything is so exciting that my heart pounds hard just as if it were the first time I'd ever done any of these things. If this keeps up, my heart is gonna give out before I hit twenty. Taking a little rest is exactly what the doctor ordered.

He relaxed under his tree for a few minutes. But the smile never left his face, since he was ruminating about the fun sexual experiences he'd had earlier in the day. He was mostly focusing on his time with Heather and Simone before school, since that was the most prolonged stimulation he'd had that day.

However, those happy and arousing thoughts created a problem. Alan had pretty much given up the practice of wearing undershorts, even to school, since they were just an obstacle that slowed down his sexual fun. Normally that wasn't a problem during school hours, because he was mindful of the situation and generally sat with a desk blocking the view of his crotch.

But he was feeling both mentally exhausted and relaxed, so he let his guard down. Without realizing it, his dick went from flaccid to fully erect in his outerwear shorts as he thought about that morning's fun with Heather and Simone.

Alan lying back on the grass with the head of his dick peeking out of his outerwear shorts along his left leg

Christine had been reading her book, but when she glanced over at him to see if his eyes were still closed, she noticed something. Is that...?! Yes, it is! That's his penis, winding down the side of his thigh like a thick snake! And that's his... Oh my God! That's the tip, poking out!

Sure enough, part of his cockhead was poking out the bottom of his shorts. And it just so happened that Christine had an ideal view of it, sitting under her tree just a few feet away.

Her first reaction was dismay, if not downright disgust. She was very big on rules and proper behavior, and this clearly was out of bounds. But then she realized that he was either sleeping or close to it, and so was doubtless unaware of what he was showing. That led her to consider how to fix the problem.

She averted her eyes, even shielding her face with a hand. Dear God! What am I gonna do?! I can't just say something. "Hey, Alan, you might wanna tuck your penis in there. It's kinda hanging out." No way! But if I don't say something, how's he gonna know?!

Her heart was pounding like mad. Soon she found herself peeking between slightly splayed fingers. Oh God, there it is! It's just... hanging there! And it's not just the bit peeking out that's so shocking. God knows I've seen him sport erections often enough, since forever. It seems like he always has one whenever he's around me. But I've always done the polite thing and averted my gaze, so I'd only get a brief confirmation that, yes, there's a big bulge there.

But now? Now I can just stare and stare! Just LOOK at that thing! It's just so THICK! And LONG! No wonder it's poking out. The amazing thing is that it doesn't reach down to his knee!

She forced herself to look away. No. I can't. It's rude. It's not what a nice girl does. But then it was just as if a devil on her shoulder appeared. But then again, who cares? I don't want to be just a nice girl anymore. I've done that, and it sucks! I'm so alone. Besides, if girls like Amy are to be believed, I'm really, really missing out on a lot of sexual fun, 'cos I don't have a boyfriend.

She looked back at his dick with renewed determination. It was almost as if she were playing chicken, daring herself not to turn away. So... weird! It's just a fleshy appendage, in the greater scheme of things. And all I can see is some tenting of fabric and the tip just peeking out. What's the big deal? But... it's making me seriously horny! I mean... Alan kissed and fondled me on our last practice date. What'll happen if we do that again next time, and even more?! I could wind up... playing with that thing! And who knows where that could lead.

That idea was both daunting and electrifying. She gasped loudly, belatedly bringing a hand to her mouth, as if that would somehow help. Look. I'm not a little girl anymore. I'm gonna do this! I'm gonna sex up my life. Cast my virginity and abstention aside. Be like a normal girl for once, dammit!

No more "goody-goody" or "Ice Queen Christine" for me! I want more! More kisses! More hugs! More touching... everywhere! I want Alan! Gaawwwd, I want him so much! I want that... dick!

I can't be passive. I'm a winner because I'm a go-getter. I'm gonna get what I want here too. I have to be sexy. Flirty. Fun! Provocative. Funny. Cute. Charming. I can do that. I'm not going to let my ossified sense of propriety hold me back anymore. True, I certainly don't want other people to see, but this is an ideal situation. We might as well be on our own planet, because everyone else is in class. Even if someone did show up, we'd be able to see them from a ways off.

Here's the thing. Alan's penis is a weapon. It is! Like a magical wand. It does things to my body against my will. Just looking at it right now, my heart is racing a mile a minute, my nipples are poking out lewdly, and even my pussy is feeling funny. But I've got my own magic weapons too. In fact, I have a whole bunch of them. Especially my two breasts. But really, practically any part of my body will work, if I just know how to strut my stuff.

"Strut my stuff." That sounds so stupid. This isn't me. But dammit, it's going to become me! I have to change or I'll be left behind. Alan is on the fence. He's got a great, sexy girlfriend already, and other lovers besides. To kick him off that fence and into my heart, I'll use every trick in the book!

While she continued to stare at his erection like she was trying to memorize every last bit of it, she thought about what she was wearing. Let's see. I'm wearing my Wonder Woman T-shirt. That's a lucky break. It's his favorite!

But then she reconsidered. No, it's not. He's seen it a million times. Been there, done that. Dammit, what if I could dress like Heather, just for once, without any social consequences? I know objectively that I have an outstanding body. What if I outright flaunted it? I want to be scandalous, for once in my life! Then Alan wouldn't be able to resist me!


She pictured herself wearing a skimpy top and even skimpier pair of shorts, a combo so revealing that even Heather wouldn't dare wear it at school. She snickered, imagining all the people that would be blown away when they saw her.

Okay, obviously THAT isn't gonna happen. But I have to shake things up somehow! What can I do? Is there any way I can adjust it to show off some cleavage? No. Or what if I pull it up and tie it just below my breasts? No, that's not me. True, it would look sexy, but I'd feel stupid. I've gotta feel sexy too; that's half the battle. I have to think of something else.

She considered the rest of her clothes. I'm wearing shorts. I suppose that's a step forward from keeping my legs completely covered all the time. But still, that's what ninety percent of the other girls are wearing today. No big deal there. What if I kick off my shoes, since we're on the grass?

That was a no-brainer, so she kicked them off. But she also realized, Feels good. But that's not a game-changer. I need a game-changer! I want to see his jaw drop and his tongue hang out like he's some kind of cartoon wolf.

There is one option, but no... I couldn't...

Why the hell not? School is almost over. No one else will see but him. I'll make up an excuse to explain it, so he won't think it's weird. Also, I've got my backpack here to hide the evidence. Okay. Dammit, I'm gonna do it! Fortune favors the bold!

The option she'd been kicking around in her head without actually verbalizing her thoughts was taking her bra off from under her T-shirt. While she still had her burst of inspiration and Alan was sleeping, she reached inside her shirt, released and removed her bra, and quickly hid it in her backpack.

There! I did it! No going back now. I'm going to win Alan, no matter what it takes. I'm not gonna steal him away from Amy; that would be too mean. But they'll break up sooner or later, right? And in the meantime, he can still go out with me. If I tempt him enough, by the time our next practice date rolls around he won't be able to keep his hands off me!

And if I can get him to go on another beach trip, there's no telling what'll happen. I could wear a revealing bikini, and he'd naturally have to put suntan lotion on me... back AND front! Once he gets his hands on my breasts his willpower will crumble and we'll be French-kissing again in no time!

She experimentally shifted positions while remaining seated on the grass. Each time she moved, her huge boobs wobbled freely inside her T-shirt. God, I feel so slutty. I never do this, not even at home. It's weird how it practically feels like I'm not wearing a shirt at all. It's like I'm sitting here topless in the middle of school, staring at Alan's stiff dick!

Her arousal level continued to escalate. She tried changing positions. Oooh! I'd better not do that too much. The way the fabric rubs across my erect nipples... way too sensitive! She looked down. And look! You can totally see just how erect they are now! Even before, my shirt was so thin that you could kinda tell. I guess that's a big reason why he loves this shirt so much. But now? Geez! It's crazy how my nips are tenting the fabric! He's gonna love that!

Ha! Now, this is what I call using the weapons I have. Alan's a great guy - a really nice, caring guy - but he's also a teenage boy driven by his libido. Guys his age are all hormones. He's resisting me now, but once I deploy all my weapons and wiles he won't stand a chance!


She was too excited to wait any longer before putting her flirting plan into motion. She coughed loudly, several times, hoping that would bring Alan awake.

Sure enough, he started to stir.

Christine quickly picked her book back up and pretended to be reading it. But then a thought hit her. Uh-oh! Don't blush! I can't blush! That'll give away that something is different. I want him to get all horny without really understanding why. And I show embarrassment so readily, especially with my fair skin. Through sheer force of will, she managed to concentrate on her book and actually read a little bit. She avoided blushing, even when she could sense Alan's eyes on her.

Sensing the time was right, she looked up and pretended to be surprised to see that Alan had his eyes open. She cast a quick, furtive glance at his shorts but was disappointed to see that his cockhead was no longer visible, because he'd sat up and repositioned his legs in the process. Damn! But that's okay. I don't want to get distracted. No more fooling around here. I have to take flirting seriously. It's a skill to learn, just like everything else.

She gave him a warm smile. "Hey. Have a nice nap?"

"Yeah. A really nice one. Don't tell me I slept the whole period away though?"

"Oh no. You were only out of it for about ten minutes. We still have plenty of time. Half an hour at least."

"Cool. So what do you wanna do?"

"Just hang out and chat."

He smiled. "Sounds good. What are you reading there?"

She was frustrated that, for once, he was looking at her face and not her chest. Although she was embarrassed to be braless, she was also eager to kick her flirtation campaign into a new phase. So she said, "Homework. Who wants to talk about homework on a beautiful day like this? Besides, I think there's something wrong with you."

"What's that?"

"I've been talking with you off and on all day, like usual, and you haven't commented even once on my choice of T-shirts." She sat up ramrod straight, even thrusting her tits out some.

Alan's eyes practically bugged out once he got a good look. Sure, he loved her Wonder Woman T-shirt, since not only was it the only T-shirt she wore to school, but it was unusually thin and tight. But she was right that she'd worn it so many times that he'd been taking it largely for granted. Now, however, he noticed something different. He wasn't sure what it was, but it was very sexy. His jaw very nearly did drop wide open in the cartoonish manner she'd envisioned earlier.

"Wow! Christine... The shirt! The shirt of greatness!" He'd been bleary from napping, but he suddenly came fully awake as he punched a fist high into the air. "Yes! Great Hera!"

She chuckled at that, since "Great Hera" was one of Wonder Woman's catch phrases. She loved his unbridled enthusiasm. She asked slyly, "Notice something different? I've been waiting all day for you to notice. I figured if anyone would notice, it would be a boob fiend like you."

He stared closer at her boobs. To his great delight, she shifted slightly to the left and then slightly back to the right, causing her heavy tits to wobble freely inside her shirt some more. He exclaimed, "Wow! I don't know what it is, but whatever it is, I love it!"

She beamed. "It's my new bra. It's custom made and seamless. Very expensive. But so much more comfortable. It doesn't squeeze me half to death like those other ones."

Christine in a Wonder Woman shirt, supposedly without a bra, with her nipples clearly outlined

He took a closer look. "Yeah. Now that you mention it, I don't see any evidence of bra straps, like, at all! That's amazing!" He sat back. "Wow. You know what you have? You have the real wonder bra. I'm not talking about the Wonderbra brand name; I'm talking about a bra that's a true wonder. Which is just too damn appropriate for your Wonder Woman T-shirt!" He laughed. "How funny is that?"

She laughed too. She made sure to put her whole upper body into it, causing a prolonged series of tit-quakes.

Alan saw that and his eyes practically bugged out of his head. Oh SHIT! Her bra is AWESOME! Somehow it keeps her fantastic tits up firm and high, yet they bounce freely like she's not wearing a bra at all!

Christine would have been amused at that thought, since of course she actually wasn't wearing a bra at all.

He continued to think, But damn! I kind of hate it too. It's TOO good! I think I had an erection before, but now it's like a super erection! My dick is so fucking needy all of a sudden! And I've gotten spoiled. I'm starting to expect some kind of penis tending or something, but there's no help in sight. Oh, man! Blue-balls city!

Christine wasn't too worried that he'd realize she was braless, because she was counting on the fact that he considered her so moral and honest that he wouldn't imagine she was lying. Plus, she figured the idea of her not wearing a bra at school was so inconceivable that he wouldn't even consider it to be an option (especially since he would have assumed she would have had to go braless the entire school day). Still, she was relieved to see from the look on his face that she hadn't misjudged the situation.

He said with obvious sincerity, "Christine, thank you for pointing that out. Now I can die a happy man. When I'm old and dying, I'll be able to look back on my life and say, 'I was there that day when Christine wore her Wonder Woman T-shirt AND her wonder bra on the same day!'"

Christine laughed some more, which of course set her boobs jiggling even more, like shaking plates of Jell-O. "You're too much."

Dang! Alan thought. Be still my beating heart! No, beating doesn't begin to cut it. If hearts can hyperventilate, that's what mine is doing right now. Does she realize I can totally see her nipples? And not just a little bit of bumpiness, like before; it's like she's topless! I feel so sorry for her old, worn-out T-shirt. Trying to contain those two bouncy milk jugs, I swear, is gonna rip it to shreds!

I'm almost afraid to make her laugh some more. If that doesn't ruin her shirt, it'll ruin my shorts. I wish Aims was here to describe the "incredi-super-wondertastically" stiff dick I have!

He didn't know how much was a joke and how much was serious when he held his hands out with clutching fingers right in front of Christine's chest. He'd previously joked like that with her, but since he actually had fondled her breasts on their last practice date, this time there was a much more sexual vibe in the air. He said, "It does sound like a pretty great bra, but I won't really know until I can apply the touch test."

Christine grinned knowingly, while leaning back a little to make sure his fingers didn't quite reach. "I see. And let me guess. Does this 'touch test' involve you fondling my breasts to your heart's content? Perhaps even slipping your hands under my T-shirt so you can feel them directly?"

He grinned back. "Well, that would be the most scientifically-accurate way. Of course I have no real interest in your breasts at all; it's just that I'm highly fascinated by this new bra."

She giggled a little. "Of course. And if you happen to fondle my boobs a bit while checking out the bra, that's just an unfortunate side effect."

He tried hard to frown without really succeeding. "Indeed. Very unfortunate. But sometimes these things can't be helped."

She smiled widely; she loved this kind of banter. "I suppose, since this is all in the name of science, it would be even better if you fondle me while I'm wearing the bra, and then again while I'm not wearing the bra, so you can tell the difference."

His eyes lit up. "Great idea! After all, we need a, a... control group! That's it! And after all, it is for science... the pursuit of truth!"



Christine smiled mischievously. "I said okay. You can fondle my breasts. But limit it to no more than a few minutes, okay? After all, we're in a very public place."

"Are you serious?!" He simply couldn't believe it, even with his run of incredible sexual luck.

"Of course. After all, it is for science." She raised both hands behind her head and thrust her chest out, causing another tit-quake. But then she winked. "Gotcha!"

"Huh?!" He sat there with his fingers just inches away from their prize.

"Boy, you're extra brunette today, aren't you?" That was in reference to the dumb-brunette jokes she normally told him as rejoinders to his dumb-blonde jokes to her. "Did you take a slow pill? I said 'gotcha.' You didn't think I'd REALLY let you fondle my boobs right here in the middle of school, where anybody could see?"

He looked around. He was so horny that he was in a daze, so it took him some moments to reorient himself to where he was. He couldn't hide his disappointment. "Um, no. Of course not."

She was still smiling brightly, and knowingly, while maintaining her sexy chest-thrust-out pose. "Well, that's too bad, because I'm willing if you're willing."

"What?! Really?!"

She thrust her chest out even more, until it was only a couple of inches from the tips of his still-clenching fingers. "Why not? You touched them the other day. But you have to promise only a couple of minutes or we could get carried away. And you can take my bra off, for the scientific comparison of course, but don't take my T-shirt all the way off. Okay?"

Alan sat there stunned. He was so horny and eager that he thought his head would explode. But he still needed to make sure, because it sounded too improbably great to be believed. "Are you serious?!"

She suddenly leaned back and shot him an incredulous look. "NO! Of course not! What, do you think I'm crazy? You can't do that in public. Geez." Then she added with a sexy tease, "Well, not unless you really want to." She winked.

He put his head in his hands. "Brain... melting... erotic... overload! ... Hands... crying!"

She laughed. "Your hands are crying?"

He lifted his head back up and grinned impishly. "What can I say? They're really sad, 'cos they love big boobs just as much as the rest of me. You ARE fucking with my mind, aren't you? It's slowly dawning on me that there's no way you'd ever really let me do that."

She chuckled. "Alan, get real. Not only are we in a public place, but on our last practice date we vowed to stay strictly platonic. Remember? I was totally screwing with your mind, and it really is hilarious! You should see the look on your face!"

He rolled his eyes, and finally dropped his clenching hands. Dang! So close and yet so far, especially after being able to touch them last Thursday. Just look at them bounce and jiggle, even while she's sitting there and hardly moving! Dammit, why did I wait? I should have just started fondling them as soon as she made the offer! Then, even after she protested that she was only joking, I still would have had my hands on them. Who would have been laughing then? But no, as usual, I'm too damn polite. She knew that and took advantage of it to tease the hell out of me. That's the curse of being "a nice guy."

He considered his erection. And what about my suffering super-stiff boner? I wish it were possible to flex my PC muscle some and actually rip a hole in my shorts with my cock. Boy, would that surprise her! But that's how damn horny I am! Dang, I can't even look at her sexy chest anymore or I'm gonna cry!

He said, "Very funny. I guess torture is the new comedy. I'll remember this too, you know, in my dying days. On my death bed, I'll look back on the day of two wonders with joy, but then it will turn to the deepest sorrow when I remember how that very same day led to tragedy."

"Tragedy?" She was still all smiles, because she could tell from his face that he was kidding around in a melodramatic way.

"Yes, tragedy. Because that also was that day when, after some extremely cruel teasing, my hands were so sad at the missed fondling opportunity that they committed suicide. They simply fell off my wrists and crawled away." He held his hands up and stared at them. "In fact, it's bound to happen any moment now."

She chuckled some more. "Sounds serious. I'm waiting. I'd like to see this."

He shook his wrists a little bit, acting like he was expecting his hands to separate and fall off.

Then she gasped, although that too was also just part of their pal-ing around. "Oh, wait! I just had an idea. Perhaps I should let you fondle me after all. Maybe it's not too late to save your hands!" She scooted close and thrust her tits towards him again.

He raised his hands back up in eagerness, but then he lowered them again. "Damn. You almost had me going again. This is my new lot in life, isn't it? Now that you're coming into your own sexually, getting comfortable with your body, you're gonna tease me until my hands really DO fall off in frustration!"

Leaning back, she rubbed her hands together like a mad scientist making plans. "Bwa-ha-ha-ha-ha! Yes, you're putty in my hands now. Bow down and pay homage to your new blonde leader, or face my booby wrath!"

He quipped, "I was all set to bow down, but actually, facing your 'booby wrath' sounds like a lot of fun."

She laughed heartily, setting her braless boobs bouncing around some more. That does sound like fun. In fact, everything is fun. I'm having a blast! I can't believe how friendly and comfortable we've gotten with each other lately. This is great!

They continued to talk and joke, although the discussion finally moved away from Christine's big breasts to more mundane topics.

As usual, Christine was so smart that she had no trouble talking about one thing and thinking about something else. She thought, Just look at his face. Not to mention his crotch! True, I can't see the tip of his dick poking out like before, but it's almost the same because his penis is straining against his shorts so very desperately that I can almost see the veiny bulges!

Now, THAT, girl, is what I call using your assets. Using your weapons! I totally have him eating out of the palm of my hand, because I'm learning how to seriously flirt. If I can keep this up, things'll just build and build. Then, at our next practice date, his lust will explode all over me!

Hmmm. Maybe not the best choice of words there. I'm not really keen to find out what male cum is like. But still, I know what's going to happen, because it's basic science. When pressure builds up and up and up, it HAS to find release, one way or another. I've had this body that everyone thinks is so great, but I never actually used it that way. But Alan's right that I am coming into my own and finally getting comfortable with my body. And that means that soon he and I will be kissing and hugging and having so much fun! I can't wait!

After a while, Christine said with a smile, "This is nice, just hanging out. No pressure, no rush. We don't even need to talk if we don't want to."

"Yeah." He grinned back. He was feeling extremely relaxed and content.

"What I want to know, though, is when are we going to do this again at the beach, or some place like that?"

He asked, "The beach?"

She gave him an annoyed look. "Yes, the beach. I believe you know what it is. A big long thing, covered in sand, that has waves crashing on it?"

"Oh, THAT beach!" He grinned impishly.

She rolled her eyes. "Seriously, what's happening here? It's been nearly two weeks since we went to the beach together. I had a really fun time. Didn't you?"

"Of course. It was great."

"I've been dropping some fairly heavy hints that I'd like to go with you again. I even promised I'd wear a bikini next time. But I get the feeling you're resistant to the idea, for some unknown reason."

He seriously considered confessing his resolve not to get intimate with her because her personality style was incompatible with his harem life, and he treasured her too much to simply "love her and leave her." But he feared that if he said that, it would only spur her curiosity about his other lovers, challenging her to even further measures to overcome his reluctance. He felt he could handle going on "practice dates" with her, but seeing her in a bikini seemed to be tempting fate too much, especially with the way they'd applied suntan lotion to each other the previous time.

So instead, he came up with an excuse on the fly. "Well, there is some truth to my being resistant. I'm worried about someone we know seeing us. No way could we even think of going to the White Sands Beach, where Heather rules her roost."

"Obviously," Christine said.

"But even a more distant beach carries a certain risk. If another student did see us together, you know the rumors would start to fly. It wouldn't be too bad for me. But given my reputation after what Amy said about sharing me with others, you'd be the target of all kinds of nasty stuff. Who would seriously believe that we're just friends and nothing more?"

Christine felt like growling and clenching her fists. That's because we shouldn't be 'just friends and nothing more!' Why don't you make a move already?! I know you want me, and I certainly want you, so what's the problem?! GRRRR! But she kept her outward cool and said, "That's a good point. But we could just drive a little further and pick a beach where the odds of seeing someone we know are next to zero."

"True. But if we're gonna drive an hour there and an hour back, that's kind of silly for a short stay, like last time. If we put all that effort into it, we should make a day of it."

"Exactly! Now you're talking some sense!"

"But the problem there is finding a full day. That limits it to the weekends. And right now, I'm so backed up on my homework that it's not even funny."

She was extremely frustrated at that, because it meant another beach trip wasn't going to happen soon. It occurred to her that using the swimming pool in her own backyard would take care of his concerns, and that would be a much better setting to get intimate than a public beach. However, she didn't want to appear too pushy or needy, so she decided to drop the issue, at least for the moment.

The rest of their time sitting on the grass and waiting for the school day to end was a fun and sexy time. While their flirting never got as outrageous for the rest of the hour, a strong erotic buzz lingered the entire time. Alan's dick had no chance of going flaccid. Even when they were discussing serious things, he couldn't forget that Christine was wearing her special "wonder bra" (which in fact was no bra at all), and the sight of her massive tits bouncing around in her tight T-shirt practically drove him to the brink of insanity.

He only got a respite at the very end of the hour. Christine started to worry that the bell would ring soon and then the other students would flood out of their classes and see her braless condition. (She could have simply left school early, but she was so used to adhering to school rules that that option never even occurred to her. Besides, she wanted to hang out with Alan as long as possible.) As a result, she took the textbook that she'd had out and clutched it tightly to her chest. She knew that as long as she held it there, people wouldn't be able to see her still very erect nipples poking through her thin T-shirt.

Alan was actually relieved when she started doing that, because his penis needed a break. He'd had so much non-stop sexual success lately that he wasn't used to such intense blue balls, and for so long. He mentally breathed a sigh of relief when his penis turned flaccid.

But he couldn't complain about suffering too much, because he knew he'd be able to get relief not long after school ended. For starters, there was an S-Club meeting planned and about ready to begin, and he had arranged some special events for it in advance. So, although he'd had a great time with Christine, making his earlier troubles with the bullies seem like a distant memory, he remained in a very happy mood when they finally parted.


When the final school bell rang, Alan knew that his school day wasn't quite over. He headed to the bicycle rack for a prearranged meeting with Sean.

But before he could get there, Simone hurried up to his side and got his attention. As the two of them kept walking, she muttered to him quietly so that none of the other students walking nearby could hear. "Alan, your bitch-taming assistant is reporting for duty. Got a moment?"

"Sure. What's up?"

"The, uh, 'spot check' went well. Heather passed with flying colors."

Both of them giggled at that.

Simone went on, "She managed to make it to the end of fifth period before I unloaded her. All in all she was pretty much a model patient, especially by Heather standards. She did mumble something about trying to get revenge on Glory, though. I'll try to stay on top of that."

"Good. Good work. And really good work all around. I'm very proud of you."

"Thanks." She beamed with pleasure. She was getting to like him more and more. If nothing else, he was polite and appreciative. She also liked the way he discretely checked out her body: he wasn't too obvious or forward, but he let her know that he liked what he saw. She proudly arched her back and thrust her chest forward to encourage him. She knew some people they walked past might see and wonder at her behavior, but she didn't care. Certainly it was just a little thing compared to all the things Heather had done that day.


But she wouldn't have been pleased if she'd been able to read his mind at that moment. He thought, Dang, Simone looks fine. I dare say she's even more muscular than Heather, and just as curvy and sexy. I wonder if those tits are mine yet. What would she say if I told her right now to go with me to a quiet place so I could play with her tits? I wonder if she's going to try to find another boyfriend.

That would bum me out. She shouldn't have one, period. I don't mind if Janice, Joy or Kim have boyfriends; they don't mean that much to me. But I don't want to share Simone. I wonder if I fuck her some more, if she'll come around to saving herself just for me. And I do plan on fucking her some more, a lot more! Not only is she a great fuck, but she and Heather make a great duo. Before this school year is over, I expect to have more threesomes with them than I can count!

Then he remembered his resolve to get Heather out of his life. Okay, maybe not that long, and maybe not that much. But still, I'd like to keep fucking Simone a lot. With any luck, maybe between Heather and me, we could keep her sexually satisfied enough that she won't need to be looking too hard for a new guy.

But he kept all these thoughts well hidden, and merely said to her, "Anything else?" They were getting near the bicycle racks and he wanted to keep the conversation short. He made this obvious with his voice and mannerisms.

"Nothing that can't wait."

"Okay. There is one thing to mention now, though. Here's your assignment for tonight. Since we don't really have a 'yuletide log dildo' we need to get some bigger toys than what we've got. You know how Heather's never satisfied."

Simone smirked. "Yes, I do know that... but how did you know that she humbly asked for something 'a little bigger tomorrow' when I unloaded her for the day?"

He chuckled mysteriously. "A Bitch Tamer must know his bitch, inside and out, if he's to tame her."

"Sounds like a hard road to enlightenment..." she teased.

"Oh it is. Very, very hard. It's bound to leave a weary trail of hard dicks, hard nipples, hard clits, and all kinds of hard things." He grinned. "To be honest, I was just wanting bigger ones on hand to use as punishments should she screw up. Do you have time to go and buy a wide selection of anal sex toys after school?"

"Sure, my whole afternoon is free. But who's going to pay?"

He was stymied by this question for a few moments, but then the answer became clear. "Heather will, naturally. After all, they're for her. But don't let her see what you buy, okay? We'll give her the bill later, so she'll be pleasantly surprised with something new tomorrow. Oh, and buy yourself a new strap-on that can 'compete' with her new Bitch Trainers. It's one thing to simply be stuffed all day at school, but it's quite another thing to come home and get reamed out all afternoon by your best friend until she gets tired of fucking the ass of my bitch because her hard-on just won't go down. We can add that to our list of rewards and punishments if you like."

He suspected from the sound of Simone's hissing indrawn breath that this idea appealed to her very much.

She replied, "Hooo yeah! As much as she loves to take it in the ass now, she'd never let ME do her like that. I guess she didn't want me to have any leverage over her. I'm telling you, I absolutely love this assistant job. You'll be pleased with what I get her tomorrow." She grinned wickedly.

Looking at that grin, he cautioned, "Just remember that while discomfort for her is okay and maybe even necessary for her training, outright pain is not. I know you've got some big resentments built up, but don't be getting all sadistic on us, okay?"

"No worries. Listen. she's my best friend and sex partner. I know she's the biggest royal pain in the ass that you're ever likely to meet, but I do love her for some completely unfathomable reason. I'm not into inflicting physical pain on her." She smiled wickedly again. "Mental, yes, but physical, no."

"Sounds good... I guess." He pretended doubt and gave her a considering look, but then said, "Seriously, I trust you. I instinctively feel you have her best interests at heart."

"I do. By the way and on a completely unrelated note, where do you think I could buy one of those ten-foot long, massively thick bull-whips? ... Kidding! Just kidding. I'll see you later." She laughed and walked off.


A few minutes after school let out, Christine looked up to see Amy running towards her with a worried look on her face. Christine quickly closed her locker so she'd be ready for Amy.

Amy stood there in front of Christine panting. "Phew! Thank God I caught you!"

Christine asked, "What's going on?"

Amy looked all around suspiciously. "Can we talk somewhere in private?"

"Um, sure. I'm not sure where's good though."

"Let's just go outside, like we're leaving school anyway. It's too people-y around here."

So the two of them walked out of the hallway until they reached a patch of grass where they could speak without being overheard.


Amy immediately asked with great concern, "Did you hear about what happened to Alan today?!"

Christine asked, "You mean... what happened to him on the stairs?"

"Of course that's what I mean!"

"Sure. How could I not? He's all scratched up. He told me all about it between classes. And that's not to mention the recent chair-painting incident. It's quite concerning."

Amy waved her hands in the air with great agitation. "Well, don't just stand there all calm-y and stuff! We need to DO something!"

Christine chuckled slightly at Amy's language. "Yeah, but what can we do? You act like you want to rush off with me right now and beat up some people."

Amy said, "That's exactly what I want us to do!" But she seemed to calm down and turn sad. "Unfortunately, I'm the most un-fight-y kinda person there is. I couldn't even punch my old teddy bear, Mr. Bangles. But we can't just stand here! What if the same guys who attacked him today attack him again?!"

Christine replied, "Don't get too upset, but that's probably what's gonna happen. Alan's made a lot of enemies."

"But why?! He's the nicest, super-est guy ever!"

Christine grinned a bit at that. "True, he's pretty cool." Then her expression turned grim. "Unfortunately, you opened a Pandora's box with your boasting about his sexual prowess. Worse, your attitude on sharing didn't exactly win him any friends."

Amy growled in frustration. "Why do people have to be such... bummers?! Why can't they just live and let live?! So Alan's all studly and sexy. You could suck his thingy with me for an hour and he'd be ready to go again ten minutes later. That's just who he is. Why do some guys get so upset that they wanna hurt him?! I don't understand!"

Christine blushed a little at the mention of sharing Alan's "thingy" in a prolonged blowjob with Amy. Good grief! Doesn't she have a clue about what she says out loud? Now I've got that disturbing image in my mind. No wonder so many people are jealous of him, if she talks like that all the time.

She said, "I know, it sucks. But that's human nature. However, that's in the past. You're not still boasting about his sexual prowess, are you?"

Amy motioned as if she were zipping her lips shut. She shook her head firmly in the negative. "I can talk freely with you, but I'm being super careful with other people."

Christine nodded with relief. "Good. He needs to lay low for a while."

Amy interrupted, "It's hard though! I mean, he's just so impressive! And his thingy! Not only is it HUGE, although not so huge that it hurts... just the right size, actually. But the things he can do with it! And do you know how much fun it is to suck on it? Or squeeze it with your boobies?"

Christine sighed and rolled her eyes. Yet hearing things like that was making an impact on her ideas about having sex with Alan. "You're not going to say that to someone else, right?"


"Good. If you and he act like a normal couple and nobody says anything weird, I'm sure the whole thing will blow over eventually."

But Amy wasn't mollified. "Maybe, but maybe not. What if they attack him again tomorrow?! What then? And besides, things can't return to normal. It's not just a matter of what I say. What about his other lovers?"

Christine's curiosity shot through the roof. "Such as?!"

Amy opened her mouth, as if she were about to start naming names. But instead, after a pause, she said, "I think it's pretty well known that he's involved with some other beauties around here. Heather, for instance. And she's not exactly subtle about her feelings towards him."


Christine groused between gritted teeth, "Heather!" She clenched her fists and raised them, as if she were tempted to punch Heather in the face right then and there.

Amy sighed. "I know. She's not my favorite person either. But it is what it is. Your 'lay low' plan isn't gonna work, if only 'cos of her. Besides, what if someone from school sees you and him out on one of your dates?"

Christine gasped. She was so shocked that she immediately blushed, even covering her mouth with her hands. But after a long moment she realized that was a stupid thing to do, especially since she hadn't been talking in the first place. Finally, she asked, "You know about that?!"

Amy shrugged. "Of course I do. He's my official boyfriend. You two started that before we became official, but he wouldn't keep doing that without my permission."

Christine hastened to clarify, "You know those are just practice dates, right?!"

"Sure. And that's cool. But I also know that last Thursday night you did a lot of practice kissing with him."

Christine's blush deepened, turning her face cherry red. She literally wanted to crawl into a hole and escape. "Oh my God! I'm soooo sorry! That was a total accident! And it was just a one-time thing!"

Amy seemed not to mind at all. In fact she giggled good-naturedly. "'A total accident,' huh? Did you two trip and fall forward at the same time, and then your lips got stuck together?" She giggled even more.

Christine was still mortified. "No, but it was... Oh, I'm so, so, soooo sorry! But it was a freak thing, and we haven't kissed since! We promised it wasn't gonna happen ever again, and I'm determined to stick to that!"

Amy just smiled. "Hey, chill. Don't worry. I know you've got the hots for him."

"I do not!"

Amy rolled her eyes with amusement. "Please. I know I'm not all genius-y like you, but don't insult my intelligence, m'kay? I'm not upset. After all, you know my policy about sharing him. If he's cool with it, then so am I."

Christine stood there stunned. She knew that already, but she still couldn't believe it because it ran so counter to her way of thinking. She started to say, "How do you-"

Amy brushed that off with a wave of her hand. "Let's not talk about that now. There are all kinds of evil meanies out to get him. I'm thinking I can put your lusty desire for him to good use."

Christine protested, "I do not have a 'lusty desire' for him..." But her voice trailed off, because she realized how ridiculous she sounded. "Okay. So I'm kind of attracted to him. But I am NOT going to act on it! Ever! We're just friends, and I like it that way! The practice dating is just that: practicing!"

Amy said dryly, "Yeah, never act on it, not counting the hot-and-heavy make-out session at the Nut House."

If there was any chance that Christine's deep blush could have faded, that comment took care of it. Christine stammered, "Well, uh, I just... It was just an accident, like I said. It really was! And it was NOT 'hot and heavy!' Anyway, how do you know... Oh God! He tells you EVERYTHING, doesn't he?!"

Amy replied, "No, not everything. Most definitely NOT everything. For instance, sure, I know when one of his dates with you is happening, but all the detail-y stuff that happens on those dates, that's just between you two. I don't even ask, 'cos it's not my business. But the French kissing, that was important enough for him to break confidentiality to tell me just that one thing. After all, I AM his official girlfriend."

Christine could understand why Alan had told Amy that. She repeated herself. "I am SOOOO sorry! We were only studying together, and then-"

Amy cut her off with another wave of her hand. "Don't stress. Really. It's okay with me. I don't want to know the details anyway. But like I said, let's put your interest in him to good use. You care about him a lot. You two have been good friends for a long time, and now that you're all horny for his big cock-"

It was Christine's turn to interrupt. "Hold on! I'll admit that I have certain romantic feelings about him, but that does NOT make me all horny for his big... well, you-know-what!"

Amy giggled. "No, what?"

Christine looked away in embarrassment. "You know."

"His cock?" Amy giggled some more. "Geez, Louise, it's just a word. Besides, it is all big and awesome-o-riffic!"

Christine wailed unhappily, "Aaaaaaaamy!"

Amy kept on giggling at Christine's prudishness. But she calmed herself enough to say, "My point is, you like him a lot. AND, you're, like, super ninja woman! You're supposed to be really good at Karate and stuff, right?"

Christine corrected her, "Not Karate, although I do have some martial arts training. But where did you get the idea that I'm really good?"

"Is it some kind of secret?"

"No. But then again, I don't go around advertising it. In fact, I strive to be modest and not talk about it at all."

Amy rolled her eyes. "First off, Alan must have mentioned how good you were a time or two. He really admires you, you know. But even if he didn't say anything - geez, you're Christine! When did you ever NOT excel at whatever you do? For instance, I heard about how you were the hero of the softball team last year, and the word is you don't even bother practicing."

Christine was pleased by Amy's praise, but was too polite to admit it so she again looked away in embarrassment. "I wouldn't say 'hero.' It's true that I'm on the varsity team..."


Amy pushed her shoulder playfully. "Come on! I don't even follow sports, but I've heard all about your heroics. Like the way you hit that home run that won the playoff game. It was all over school! And that's not even counting how well you do in other sports, plus being all smart-y and stuff. You rock!" She raised a fist in triumph, like she was cheering a great encore at a rock-and-roll concert.

Christine had a hard time dealing with compliments. Still looking anywhere but at Amy, and still with a cherry-red face, she said, "I don't know about all that."

"Well, I do! So if you do all that Karate stuff, then of course you're gonna be awesome at it!"

Christine finally looked back, hoping the barrage of praise was over. "Thanks. By the way, it's Aikido, not Karate. But yes, I have to admit that I've trained for years, so I do know what I'm doing."

"Cool beans! Soooo... since Alan's in danger, and you're all scary good at that stuff, then doesn't it make sense for you to... you know... protect him?!"

Christine's blush was finally fading. "Of course. If I'm nearby when he's in danger, then I'm gonna do all I can to help."

"Well yeah, duh! Even I'd do that much, although I wouldn't have a clue about what to do. But can't you do more? Like, what if you were to kinda become his bodyguard during school hours? That would help a lot!"

Christine pondered that. "I don't know. I mean, I don't think he'd want that. You know how guys are. They have their pride. Being protected by a girl is gonna go over like a lead balloon. And what would other people think? That'll just cause even more difficult rumors for him."

Amy wasn't easily discouraged. "Be sneaky, so other people don't notice. And of course ask him first. I'll bet he'll be open to the idea. After all, he knows that he's a lover, not a fighter. And what a lover he is! Mmmm!" She licked her lips sensuously, and then winked playfully.

Christine was able to grin at that, since she wasn't dying of embarrassment anymore - she knew that was just Amy being Amy. However, her grin faded as she spoke. "Maybe I will. But the thing is... the idea occurred to me already, and... I just don't know. I mean... I guess it's pretty hard for me to deny that I have... certain feelings for him. I don't want those feelings to grow! I really don't! That kiss the other day was a total disaster, from my point of view."

Amy cocked an eyebrow. "What?! You didn't like his kissing? He's a great kisser!"

"No, I don't mean that. I do like his kissing... a lot. In fact too much! It was a disaster because it was the exact opposite of what should be happening to help me turn off these inappropriate feelings. And if I become some kind of de-facto bodyguard, that means I'll be around him a lot more, and the more I'm around him the more I'm gonna like him! Before long... well, I don't know what'll happen, but it's not good!"

Amy appeared to ponder that for long moments. "Hmmm... I see." She looked at Christine intently, which made Christine more than a little uncomfortable. Finally, she said, "You know what? I think the main thing here is keeping Alan safe. If that means you spend a lot more time with him, then that's how it needs to be."

Christine asked plaintively, "But what if my feelings grow? What if something happens again like what happened last Thursday? Like I said, that really was just some kind of accident, which happened simply because we were sitting next to each other and having a great time."

Amy shrugged. "Then so be it. I trust my boyfriend. Frankly, if he wants to get it on with you, then..."


"Never mind."

Christine complained, "You can't just start to say something like that and then say 'never mind.'"

"I just did." Amy giggled.

Christine was startled to recall that she'd said the exact same thing to Alan during their beach outing together a week and a half earlier, when he'd complained after she'd also started to say something and then stopped in mid-sentence. That memory made her very wistful, because she'd had such a great time with him at the beach. She'd been dropping some heavy hints lately that they should go to the beach together again, but he'd claimed he was too busy. That frustrated her a great deal, especially because she strongly suspected that his "too busy" was with other women.

Amy relented, adding, "M'kay. What I meant to say is that I trust him. He has self-control. Besides, you do too. In fact, you're kinda famous for your willpower. So what's the problem? The thing with that French kissing the other day was that it sneaked up on you all sneaky-like. If you're aware and prepared, then it won't happen again, right?"

"Right, I guess." But Christine was far from convinced, as the glum look on her face showed. Awww, who am I kidding? That kissing wasn't exactly an accident! The way I dressed... I was a total slut! Okay, maybe not a TOTAL slut, but I was pretty shameless; I was all but asking for something like that to happen. And nobody would be happier than me to remove the 'practice' from our 'practice dating!' But at the same time, I'm truly determined to not give in to my desire and wind up kissing him again.

How can those contradictory things both be true?! But they are! I'm all messed up, I know that much. And being his bodyguard would only throw fuel on the fire. Yet Amy's right that the most important thing is keeping him safe. If I'm a true friend, how could I not volunteer to help?

She sighed heavily. But then she spoke with new resolve. "Amy, you're right. His safety comes first. Tomorrow I'll figure out some not-so-obvious way to bring up the idea of protecting him more. And don't you worry; I've made a vow to myself not to kiss him again, and I'm going to keep to that! I promise you-"

Amy cut her off. "Hey, don't promise me. That's between you and him. If you two wanna fool around some, that's cool with me, just so long as you don't get big ideas of wanting to be his official girlfriend or anything like that. THEN we would have a big problem!" She tried to give Christine a stern, forceful look, but without much success since it was so hard for her to make her face look like that.

Still, Christine got the idea.

Amy stuck out her hand. "Let's make a deal. You and I, we're both gonna do whatever we can to save Alan from the evil meanies, the guys who are trying to throw him down the stairs and stuff. Katherine, naturally, feels the same. Are you with us?"

"I am." Christine shook Amy's hand.

"M'kay!" Amy pulled Christine in and gave her a solid hug.

Christine wasn't comfortable with hugging, especially in a public place, so she kept her hands to herself. When they disengaged she smiled and said, "And Amy... I know I'm repeating myself, but I'm soooo very sorry about kissing your boyfriend."

Amy nodded. "It's cool. I'm not mad at you. Really! If I was, I would have said something before this."

After they parted, Christine simply couldn't get over how generous Amy was being about sharing Alan in a sexual way. I swear, Amy must be brain-damaged or something. She's not a true moron; it's just that she has no common sense! I mean, if Alan were MY boyfriend, I would hang onto him for dear life. No way in hell would I let him so much as kiss another girl. But here she is boasting to me about his 'big thingy,' like she can't help what she says. And she didn't even use the word 'thingy' this time! Crazy!

And what was she gonna say to me before she said 'never mind'? I could tell that her clarification was carefully edited. "Frankly, if he wants to get it on with you, then..." Then what?! He'll just do what he wants, and what she thinks about it doesn't matter? Or was it that what I think doesn't matter? Would he just aggressively have his way with me, overwhelming my resolve so much that I would let him and welcome it? Is that what she meant?

She shuddered. But she also felt a lusty tingle deep inside.

NOTE: Thanks to the suggestions and corrections of OmegaZone, IBT, NightShadow, EBC, LordALM, LuckyKM, DD, Alzrius, Dan, Gnome, WD40, Lee, Sacbob, Sam.I.am, Random Zero, and Geezer. IBT deserves an even bigger, extra huge and special thanks than usual for his vital and extensive help with this part.

A special thanks goes to YamiBoy for colorizing existing illustrations. And finally, an extra special thanks to Sam.I.am for coordinating and processing all of the proofreading input.

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