Run Ch. 01

Gail check to make sure that Pat was still on the bench, then went back to her oral attentions. She wrapped her index finger around his shaft until it made contact with her thumb, then she started jerking him off while sucking on the head and humming. Sometimes, she would lash her tongue at that tiny slit, but mostly she just kept the pressure up. Then she decided to up the stakes.

"Fuck me," she said, turning away from him and pulling up her skirt. "Now!"

Todd turned his body slightly and scooted closer to her. He wasn't going to argue anything at this point. He pushed her bikini-style panties to the side and slowly pushed his cock into her snug pussy. Her velvety vice clung to his shaft, and he took a moment to savor being completely embedded inside her.

"That feels so fucking good," Gail moaned, clenching her internal muscles voluntarily. "Do me. Hurry," she practically whined.

He wasn't able to get as much thrust as he would have liked, but he was able to get his hips going. She helped by pushing back, and the car actually began to rock slightly. Todd ran his hands up her back, unfastening her bra so he could fondle her warm, soft tits. He loved playing with her breasts, tweaking her nipples as he drilled her.

Gail was full of hard man-meat, and she couldn't think of anything better. Her labia were pressed outward as he thrust in, trying vainly to capture the welcome intruder. She was rubbing her clit madly, wanting to cum soon. In and out . . . in and out . . . she felt every stroke, relishing it when it was inside and mourning its loss when it pulled out. She even liked the feel of her boyfriend's anxious hands on her tits. Gail simply loved having sex.

"That's it baby," she cooed. "Make me cum and this weekend, we may try that little thing you've been interested in."

Todd's hips went into high-gear. He had jokingly once suggested sticking his dick in her ass, and she had told him, "Only if you let me tie you up." It had turned out that neither of them were kidding. Gail was interested in asserting her dominance a bit (which surprisingly didn't bother Todd) and he REALLY wanted to butt-fuck her. If she was even toying with the idea of letting both happen, Todd wasn't going to pass up the opportunity.

He squeezed Gail's nipples a little harder as he slammed his cock into her. Her breathing was incredibly rapid, and she was sweating all over her fabric interior. Her clit was throbbing as well. Soon, she felt her pussy tightening up.

"Good boy!" she cried as she gripped his meat with her vaginal muscles, her own cum flowing down his shaft. Her body shuddered several times before she was able to relax enough for him to pull out.

"You know what I want now?" she asked, turning back towards him.

Todd smiled and leaned back as she took as much of his cock into her mouth as she could manage and started giving head for all she was worth.

"Hurry," he said urgently. "She . . . Pat is . . . another bus."

Gail wanted to continue the chase, but she wasn't going anywhere until she had gotten her candy treat. She knew one thing that might help. She stuck a finger in Todd's sphincter and probed, touching his prostate.

Todd had been close already, and Gail's "shortcut" was more than he could stand. He moaned something about cumming and then shot a quart of sticky stuff into Gail's mouth. And Gail didn't let any of it go. She swallowed as much as she could, then sat up with some still in her mouth. She revved up her engine, turned back to Todd and after making eye contact, kissed him. She snowballed some of his cum into his mouth, glad that he showed little resistance. He was almost as curious about things sexual in nature as she was.

"What are we waiting for?" he asked with a grin, tucking himself back into his pants.

She smiled back. She had him hooked. She pulled the car onto the street and started to follow the new bus.

Several minutes later, the bus stopped in front of another school. Gail pulled into the far corner of the parking lot and noticed that Pat had gotten off and run onto the track field besides the school. That was when Gail noticed the "Special Olympics" sign hanging on the chain-link fence.

"What the . . ." She was a bit confused.

She got out of her car and moseyed up to the fence. There was a track field that was populated with a variety of people. Obviously there were the athletes. Gail felt that moment of awkward guilt. 'Do I call them "handicapped"? "Handicapable?"' No matter how politically correct she tried to be, the word "retarded" popped into her head, however briefly. She quickly quelled the use of that word, but still felt a little tainted from having thought it.

Gail scanned the field. There were athletes performing in most of the standard track and field type of sports. After a few moments, she spotted Pat.

The focus of Gail's curiosity had put a "Volunteer" shirt on over her traditional tee-shirt. She had a stop-watch in her hand and was standing near the finish line of the race-track. Gail noticed that Todd had found his way to her side again.

"Who would've thunk," he muttered. At one point, she turned to watch a group of runners . . . and she was smiling.

"Look at that," Gail said. She had noticed those teeth too. Pat had an amazing smile! Pearly-white, perfect teeth, and they made her whole face shine. The normally harsh face was so much softer, bordering on angelic. No one at school had ever seen her smile . . . not even a smirk.

"Can I help you?" came a voice behind them.

Gail was startled, but noticed the voice came from a middle-aged man with thinning hair, a pot belly and a cheerful looking face.

"We were just seeing what was going on. How often are the Special Olympics held?"

"Every four years, but we have programs going year round to encourage the participants. Keeping active is imperative to their physical and psychological well-being," the man added, smiling slightly. He loved what he did. "My name is George Keibler. I'm the chief organizer for the Springfield chapter."

Gail shook his hand. "Hey, are you looking for volunteers?"

Todd's eyes shot open. 'What is she doing?!' he thought.

Mr. Keibler looked pleased. "Always. We're not exactly hurting right now, but every little bit helps. Even just showing up, handing out Gatorade and showing your support would mean the world to these guys."

Gail was smiling a bit herself. They all looked like they were having such a great time.

Mr. Keibler stood on one side of her while Todd stood on the other. "You an athlete?"

"Yeah. I play softball." She looked over at Pat again, then let her eyes follow the runners.

"We don't actually have a softball or baseball team, but the competitors would probably love to learn to play."

"They're enthusiastic," she replied. It might be kind of fun, now that she thought about it.

"This is their time to shine."

"Are they all nice like in the commercials, or do they get competitive?"

"Mostly nice. They're people, just like everyone else. Maybe they're a little more appreciative of things like this . . . the ability to just go out and compete. Some of them are brats about it, but most aren't. I'm sorry, but I didn't get your name."

"Gail. And this is my boyfriend Todd."

Todd raised his hand in greeting, unsure as to whether or not he wanted to be pulled into this conversation.

Gail felt her gaze drawn back to the field. The race was over and one of the runners barreled over to Pat. The stone-faced girl was still smiling when she hugged the youngish man, who was hopping up and down and was obviously enormously pleased about something.

George noticed her staring and grinned ear to ear. "That's Pat, one of our more dedicated volunteers. And that's her brother Buddy."

'Ah ha!' Gail thought. Then she realized that the girl was more interesting than ever now. 'Damn curiosity!' "Buddy?" she asked out loud.

"I think his real name is Michael, but everyone calls him Buddy. They moved here from Korea about three years ago . . . father used to be an army man I think. Anyway, Buddy just loves the track and his sister supports the heck out of him." Mr. Keibler remembered what an odd pairing the siblings were, particularly as introverted as Pat had been. But she had grown to love helping out as much as he did. He had a great amount of respect for the girl, particularly since she had to deal with her parents on top of her other responsibilities. But that wasn't something these kids needed to hear about.

"Cool. Hey, I think I can start next week, or maybe some on the weekend. Would that be okay? I just need to rework my schedule a bit."

"That would be fine. Actually, we're taking a bunch of the athletes to the movies on Saturday . . . kind of a reward for them. One of the local theatres reserves a screen just for us once a month." Mr. Keibler paused. "We . . . I mean the coaches and staff . . . get in free, but we still have to pay for concessions for ourselves and everyone else."

"I think I could chip in," Gail assured him. "Uhm, I'm not sure how to ask this and I'm not meaning to be rude or anything, but . . . uhm . . . what do we call them? Handicapped? Just 'athletes,' or . . ."

Mr. Keibler raised his hand to silence her. He was still smiling. It was a reasonable question, and one he heard a lot. "Around here, we call them athletes. Otherwise, we just use their names."

"I can handle that," Gail said. She shook the man's hand again, then she and Todd headed back to the car.

"What are you thinking?!" Todd said when the doors closed. "You think she won't recognize you? You're going to volunteer JUST to find out more about this girl you have NO business investigating anyway?"

Gail pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. "No. I mean yes, I want to find out more about her but . . . it seems like such a noble cause. I mean you've seen my games, or the football games or whatever. People trying to hurt each other or yelling at each other or . . . I mean there's so much tension. You saw those guys. They just loved doing it. Like we all used to when we were too young to take ourselves seriously."

Todd was a little taken aback, though he probably shouldn't have been. Gail's mind was like a runaway train that tended to derail periodically. "I suppose this means that I'll be expected to help?"

"No," Gail said. "Only if you want nookie."

"When were we supposed to meet him on Saturday?"

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The next day . . .

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Pat sat in the school psychiatrist's office. Ms. Martin was just staring at her. It didn't really bother Pat. People started at her all the time. And she was extraordinarily patient. She would simply meditate with her eyes open until the end of her appointment.

"That's not going to work with me," Carolyn Martin said after observing her young patient. "You get to keep coming to these sessions until I give you the okay, and I'm not going to give you the okay until you start talking."

Pat's expression didn't change. "Very well," she said carefully. "What did you wish to discuss?"

Carolyn smiled. This girl was going to be a challenge. She was intelligent and uncannily wise. She had pulled a lot about her from her file. Carolyn knew a lot about the girl, but Pat didn't know anything about Ms. Martin. That gave Carolyn an advantage in the upcoming "sparring."

"So, why did you beat the boy up?" she asked.

"I didn't."

"You twisted his arm and injured his shoulder."

"That hardly constitutes 'beating him up,' and I was defending myself."

Carolyn looked at her for a moment. "You don't seem like the kind of person who would lose control, but you basically threaten to break someone's arm simply for touching you? Were you trying to make a statement?"

"Maybe. I don't want him thinking it's acceptable to put his hands . . ."

"He grabbed your arm trying to get your attention. You must bump into people all the time. What made this situation different?"

"He . . . nothing," Pat said. She cursed herself. She had slipped.

"He what?" Carolyn waited, but it was obvious that no answer was forthcoming. She needed to win the girl over. "Pat, I'm going to remind you of something. Nothing you say here is going to be heard by anyone but me. If you're half as strong as you think you are or that I think you are, you'll work with me."

"What? It was once incident, and . . ."

"You're right. Your records are squeaky clean. You've had no other encounters with other students. At all."

"So now I'm on trial for NOT interacting with the other kids?" Pat was trying to figure out where this woman was going.

Carolyn was secretly pleased. It may have been a defensive reaction, but at least she had gotten a reaction. "You're not on trial. I'm just wondering why a very intelligent and healthy young woman has no interest in talking to anyone when all her peers can't stop talking. And I'm wondering why you reacted to this one incident so . . . heatedly."

Pat closed her eyes for a moment and found her center. She wasn't going to let this woman win . . . whatever it was she was trying to win at. "As I said, he grabbed me and I defended myself."

"And you also started to say why his touching your arm was different than every other time a kid bumps into you. And I think I'm going to want an answer to that."

Pat wondered if it might be better just to cooperate. Then she looked up at the clock. "I think it's time for me to go back to class," she said. She felt oddly disappointed.

"Very well," Carolyn said. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Pat swiftly got up. She was at the door when, inexplicably, she turned around. "It was different because . . . because no one else ever talked to me first." Then she walked out the door.

Carolyn Martin leaned back in her chair. "You're an interesting girl, Ms. Baker," she said to the empty room. "I'm looking forward to getting to know you."

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At lunch . . .

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"You did NOT!" Keith whispered in a single exasperated breath as he and Gail stood in line at the cafeteria. "Gail, you shouldn't . . ."

"I shouldn't, but I am, "Gail replied, grumbling a bit.

"When she sees you, she'll probably blame me and then I'll be in a whole world of shit when the principal finds out!"

"I doubt she even pays enough attention to anyone else to notice that we hang out together," Gail replied defensively. But she didn't even really believe what she was saying. "Don't worry. I'll make sure you don't get in any trouble."

"I don't think you can stop a young man from gettin' himself in trouble," came a voice from across the glass.

"Hey Lola!" Gail said cheerfully. Lola was the coolest lunch lady ever, and probably one of the cutest. Gail guessed the woman was in her mid twenties, but she had a sense about her . . . like she had aged a lot in a relatively young life. She was a Hispanic lovely with a hard vibe that matched her hard body. She was lean, with skin that held a myriad of tattoos.

"What?" Keith said, acting indignant. "Not all guys are trouble makers!"

"You're right," Lola replied with a smirk. "Some of them are gay."

"Well, I never," Keith shot back with a grin, utilizing his best "flamer" voice. He was the one who had figured out how cool Lola was. Some other kids had once been being snotty towards her and it had annoyed him. So when the kids had been distracted, he had spit in their food. Lola had noticed, and they'd gotten along famously ever since.

"I'll bet. Move your scrawny white ass on down the line. You're stinkin' up the place and scarin' the high class clientele." Lola plopped down some mashed potatoes and threatened to smack Keith with the ladle.

"See, I'M the victim around here!" Keith moved on.

"Like a woman who can put a man in his place," Gail said.

"Speakin' uh which, where's that hottie boy of yours?"

"Todd is on a different lunch schedule now. It sucks."

"I'm sure it does," Lola said with a wink.

"Lola!" Gail said, blushing a bit. "I'm not that kinda girl!"

"Hey, freaks recognize their own," Lola said. "I know a card carryin' member of the union when I see one."

Gail stuck her tongue out and followed Keith, not noticing that Lola's eyes were locked on her firm posterior a few seconds longer than might be considered polite. Then Lola went back to work. She had to finish up, do some cleaning, and then . . . then she had somebody to see.

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An hour or so later . . .

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Ms. Martin saved her notes from her earlier session with Ms. Baker, then turned back to the girl's file. "Perfect grades in the sciences but not so enthusiastic about the arts . . . speaks English, Korean, Japanese, Vietnamese and Chinese . . . two different dialects . . . her father is . . . " Carolyn stopped. 'Reginald Baker? I wonder if that's the one I'm thinking of. And her mother is Mary Baker. Crap, talk about high profile parents.'

Carolyn's mental reverie was disrupted by a light rapping at her office door. She put the folder down. She didn't have any other appointments for an hour at least, and it was between periods anyway. She cracked open the door. It was the lunch lady, Lola.

"Can I help you?" Carolyn asked.

"Yeah," the brown-skinned woman responded. Her hair net was gone and her curly brown hair was falling everywhere. She pushed her way inside the office from the abandoned hallway. "I got this itch, ya know? Somethin' it's real hard to shake." She reached up and took Carolyn's glasses off, exposing a pair of emerald green eyes, and put the spectacles on a shelf. "Something I can't get out of my mind."

"I don't . . ." Carolyn was breathing hard. She had backed up until her butt was against the back of the desk. "I'm sorry, I don't think I can help you with . . ."

"Oh, I think you can help me," Lola replied. She moved up against Carolyn's body, pushing the red-headed woman's legs apart, letting her skirt ride up until just the tip of the woman's panties were exposed. "That's what you do . . . you help people with problems, right? Well, my problem is that I'm fuckin' horny as hell. You gonna help me with that?" she asked, roughly grabbing Carolyn's crotch and rubbing her mound through the fabric.

Carolyn's face underwent a transformation. The "scared" look was gone . . . unadulterated and very intense lust took its place. "Don't I always take care of it?" she asked. She was smiling.

Lola smiled back. "That's my little slut." She kissed Carolyn full on the lips and stuck her hand under the woman's panties. Her fingers plunged into Carolyn's sex, and the school psychiatrist was squirming, trying to get as much of those fingers inside her as possible. Lola got aggravated with the woman's now-soaked underwear, so she ripped them off. The aggressive act was met with a pleasurable gasp from Carolyn.

"You like that, don't you?" she asked. She stuck her hand under Carolyn's blouse and grabbed one of those large, warm breasts through the silky bra. "Tell me what you want?"

"I want you to fuck me," Carolyn hissed. "Treat me like you own me."

"That's 'cause I DO own you," Lola said.

Carolyn was going to orgasm. She knew it, and she craved it. She wrapped her legs around Lola and held on tight. "I'm gonna . . . "

"You're gonna cum, and you're gonna do it 'cause I want you to," Lola growled.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee," Carolyn whined, trying to keep her voice down as her hips twitched and she came onto Lola's hand. Lola took that hand and shoved it into the psychiatrist's mouth. The woman didn't even need to be told to lick those fingers clean.

Watching Carolyn lick up her own cum was an incredible turn-on for Lola. It had been for the two years they'd been together. Lola pushed her lover onto the desk so that only the woman's head was hanging off.