"Stacy." Dennis leaned over and looked at her from the front of the desk, "I don’t have to make any threats, do I?"
Groaning her disgust, Stacy leaned forward and slipped her delicate fingers around the teenager’s cock. Ted gasped and tensed up as her pink tongue flicked out and began licking the head. Her other hand went down to her cunt and began rubbing, trying to get herself hot enough to tolerate what she was going to have to do. Once again, she thought longingly about the thermos, but knew that even if she could get to it, she should save it for later on. She was due at the Schaefer’s later that afternoon.
She slipped her experienced lips over Ted’s leaking cock and began to suck in earnest. This shouldn’t take her too long.
Behind her, Dennis began to play with her ass…
Part Nine-A
"Do you remember Peter Jenkins?"
Sharon looked up from her position on the bed, where she was skimming through the latest National Enquirer. Gary was sitting in front of his computer with an old Greenwood school yearbook open in his lap.
"Huh?"
"Jenkins," Gary repeated. "Peter Jenkins. He was in grade twelve when you were in grade nine." He turned and handed over the old school yearbook, pointing to a picture. "That guy. He went out for Stacy for a little while, but she broke up with him."
"Oh… that’s right. He’s the one who got so drunk at the Prom that he vomited all over himself; they had to throw him out."
"That’s him." Gary took back the yearbook and gazed at the picture. "He was fucked up over Stacy for months: a real basket case."
Sharon glanced back at her National Enquirer for a moment, but then turned her attention back to her boyfriend. He must have something in mind, even if it was taking him a little while to get to it.
Gary just stared intently at the picture for a moment, saying nothing, and then went back to work on his computer.
"Yeah?"
Maybe a little prodding was necessary.
"Nothing special." He hit the return button on his computer, saving some work. That done, he turned back to Sharon.
"I heard he was working up in Point Hope."
Sharon waited silently for the other shoe to drop. This time, it was not long in coming.
"I was just thinking," he mused, gazing again at the yearbook, "that maybe we’re being a little greedy, keeping Stacy to ourselves up here in Bakersville. Wouldn’t it be nice if we could get him back together with his old high school flame… at least for one night?"
The game was over, and the players had long since showered up and left the building. Biff Talbot lead his four friends into the now-deserted locker room. Together, they made up the first- string offensive line of the Greenwood Bulldogs, the football team at Greenwood High. As offensive linemen, they had not been picked for their speed, dexterity or intelligence. No; they occupied the position they did on the football team because of their size. The smallest of them, Billy Paxter - "little Bill" - was 6’2" and weighed just over 240 lbs. He received a lot of ribbing on the team because of his size.
Being an offensive lineman, even a good one, was not a particularly glamorous position. It was pretty much all grunt work - "down-in-the-trenches" kind of stuff. The type of football that won games by attrition, not by spectacular solo efforts. Hence, all the attention… all the acclaim; all the girls went to the players in the flashier positions, such as the quarterbacks and wide receivers and the like.
Until today.
Grinning his big, stupid grin, Biff flipped open the door to one of the unused lockers at the end of the wall.
"Holy shit!"
Stacy flinched at the sudden brightness.
She had been crouched in the locker for almost three hours, ever since the end of the game when Barry Packard had hustled her into the locker room just as the final few moments expired on the clock. Barry hadn’t been "using" her since early January, when he had started going steady with another girl at school, but he hadn’t forgotten Stacy either. Particularly when Neil had "explained" a few things to him. At first, he had been a little depressed at the knowledge that Stacy had only been fucking him because she was being forced to do so. Then he got angry; the bitch wouldn’t give him the time of day unless she had to! At least he was seeing Heather now. And, he thought, philosophically, Stacy was such a slut these days, he didn’t really want to fuck her anymore. She was used goods. Who knew where her pussy had been?
Nevertheless, although he might not want her anymore for himself, he could always do favours for his buddies. Stacy hadn’t complained when he told her what she was to do, not that it would have done her any good. He had been quite prepared to "insist". She had just stared down at the ground and nodded her head silently when he had told her what she was going to do; all five guys were "new meat" (Sharon’s term). Each fuck would bring her closer to the end of her ordeal.
"Get in," Barry ordered, opening up a locker. "Hurry."
Stacy hesitated slightly - the locker was pretty small - but then she obeyed. Making certain she had a firm grip on the small flask (red wine this time), she wriggled ass-first into the locker, facing outwards. Her tight little cheerleading costume - green, sleeveless blouse and white skirt - rode up on her thighs, exposing her bare pussy to the open air. Barry, unable to resist, reached down and fondled it, slipping his middle finger into her snatch and wiggling it around. Stacy had not yet ingested any of the wine, and thus squirmed away. Barry didn’t notice.
A few seconds later, Barry stepped back to take a look. Stacy was wedged backwards into the locker, crouched on the heels of her feet, with her thighs splayed open. Looking good he thought. Just one more…
"Hold on," he muttered, moving away out of Stacy’s line of vision. Stacy waited nervously. The game must be over by now. Any moment there would be…
"Here we are."
Barry had returned with a couple of dildos a foot long,
"I know how hot you are," he muttered bending down. "I wouldn’t want you to get lonely down here while you’re waiting." He reached under her crotch and slowly inserted one of the dildos handles into her dry pussy. Stacy squealed and tried to wriggle away, but the silver tube slid quickly up into her pussy until about eight inches of it was lost from view. Barry propped it up on the base of the locker. Stacy tried to push herself away, but was only able to move up about four inches before her head hit the top of the locker; she was now effectively impaled on the handle until she left the enclosed space.
Leering, Barry passed the other to her.
"This is for your mouth," Barry instructed her. "When my buddies open this locker, I expect you to be tonguing it the way you sucked my cock a couple of months ago."
Stacy looked up at him from where she crouched in the locker, her eyes watering with humiliation. "If not," he continued, unrelenting, "I’ll have to complain to Sharon." He smirked at her. " We wouldn’t want that, would we?"
A tear trickled down Stacy’s cheek as she nodded.
"How about a demonstration?" Barry suggested.
Stacy hesitated momentarily, but then brought the handle up to her mouth and began tonguing and licking it. She closed her eyes as she did so, trying to imagine that it was a real cock; that she was anywhere but here…
FLASH!