Average High School Life Ch. 04

Again, thanks to everyone who's commented, rated, and/or reviewed the previous entries in the series. It's gratifying to see you're enjoying it.

Apologies if the Sci-fi/Fantasy category is still throwing people off. Unfortunately that mystery will remain for a little longer.

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CC's story actually was that graphic; she enjoyed teasing me and also I think she got a little carried away in the storytelling. I was uncomfortably hard by the time she finished.

"So, a good time then?" I asked.

"That's the thing," CC replied with a frustrated tone, "It was damn-near perfect, but then it ended with a record-scratch. She got my number and texted me so I had her digits, but then she told me 'I've got a bit of a loli fetish. I'll hit you up next time I'm in town.'"

"Um...that's bad?" I guessed.

"It's...so the consent laws in Japan are a lot different than here. The age is younger. So there's a subculture, mostly men, who lust after girls that still look like they haven't hit puberty. It's still considered weird over there, but people don't immediately jump to pedophile like they do here. The fetish is called loli. And...well..."

CC gestured to herself as an explanation.

"CC, I mean, I don't think she only hooked up with you because of her fetish. She must have liked you for more than that."

"Maybe, but I definitely came off like a fangirl at first, not gonna lie. Maybe she just recognized she could wrap me around her finger immediately. Anyway, her crack about the loli thing was like a bucket of cold water, and then it got me thinking. The anime community isn't small but it's tight, and everybody pays attention to the good cosplayers. The weebs in the community are horrific about that; the NSA would probably tell them they're overdoing it with the way they monitor the cosplay girls. Every time any of them flashes even slightly more ass cheek than they did at their previous appearance these people are all over it, and they have fucking dossiers on everyone it's even rumored they're going out with."

"Okay," I prompted, pushing for more.

"So when I got home I jumped into the cesspit a bit. Suki has had a boyfriend for four years. He helps with her costumes, and some people say he was the one that gave her the push to do it in the first place. There are photos of him and her together, working. He never goes with her to shows or anything because the reality of her being with someone would make some of her fans have a nervous breakdown in front of her, but he's a known quantity. There aren't even rumors of Suki cheating on him, much less with a girl. The only hint was some wet dream a bunch of idiots had two years ago when she posed for a picture with another cosplay girl and the picture made it look like some of the skin of their boobs touched when they leaned toward each other."

"I'm still not getting how this got you pissed off at me on Tuesday," I prompted.

CC sighed and pulled at the grass for a minute. Finally she looked up at me and said, "After all that I talked myself back into the idea that she'd actually liked me for me, that I was special enough for her to throw away a four-year relationship and fuck me in the back of a store. But then you came up to me with even more stories about how you're suddenly some sort of sex god and it reinforced the story, not that I had caught the attention of a cosplay girl, but that something weird was going on and it had nothing to do with me."

"You know, you could have just said, 'I was in denial' and it would have saved a lot of-OW! That was a rock!"

"Yeah and you're lucky it wasn't bigger," CC said.

"So what changed your attitude?" I asked.

"Well part of it was that you sent me that text and reminded me of the pact we'd agreed on. But also the next time I was at the shop Kida offered to hide under the counter and eat me out while I was manning the cash register. She did it every half hour or so, and every time she tried to convince me her partner Sam would be okay with it."

"They wouldn't?"

CC shook her head, "Kida and Sam are that couple at the store. They've been together forever, apparently, but they're drama whores. The thing is, usually Sam is the flirty one and Kida erupts with accusations of cheating and jealousy. They fight and snipe at each other for three days or so and then they're back together and making out like teenagers...well okay they are teenagers, but you know what I mean."

"I'm getting an idea, yeah. So what the fuck is going on?" I asked.

"I don't know but it has to be something to do with whatever happened here, right?" CC suggested, "I mean, it's happening to both of us."

"Is it just us, though?" I asked, "I mean, there was Zoey and Miss Garnier too. And then gym class."

"Fine, fine, but look...you and I don't brag about our sex lives, not that there's been much for either of us to brag about until recently, but other people at school would absolutely blow up everyone's phones if shit like this were happening to them. At the very least it would be gossip in classes. Like you said, half the guys were joking with each other about what happened with the other girls in gym class, and I know from some other friends that definitely made the rounds. Unless this is some sort of 'blessed are the silent' thing and everyone getting random nookie is like us and keeps quiet about it, it's probably just us two."

"I'll go along with that for now."

"Good, now that we've agreed I'm smarter than you, help me look," CC said, getting back to her feet.

"Okay, I don't think that's been agreed to at all, and what are we looking for?" I asked.

"Anything."

-=-=-=-=-=-

The search was fruitless; we didn't find anything except grass, dirt, and various insects, along with some trash and a few screws and metal parts we thought had probably been launched onto the hill somehow when the cars and other huge chunks of metal were thrown around in the junkyard. After that, I had to go to work.

I got flashed four more times that night. One seemed to be an accident; a very fit woman had apparently thought the pizza would take much longer to arrive than it did and had hastily thrown on a bathrobe after stopping in the middle of her shower. I caught a flash of nipple and a possible view of some pubic hair as a flap of the robe flared out when she turned, but I couldn't claim she was trying to show off for me. I also didn't explore further because based on the woman's physique, she could bench press me and then snap me over her knee without a second thought.

The other incidents were harder to pass off as innocent.

First there were the boobs pressed against the glass of a second-story window in an apartment building I delivered to. I wondered briefly if it was part of a tryst but I saw the woman's face and she was clearly looking at me and flashing numbers with her hands. She was apparently in apartment 203. I didn't check.

The next incident came an hour later. A guy answered the door in boxers. He was decently built for a guy, with trim muscles, a fashionably short beard and a flat-top cut. He asked me to hang on while he double-checked the receipt to make sure he'd tipped me.

He apparently either had the math or reading skills of a first-grader, because him looking over the receipt took way too long. Then the reason for his delay became obvious as his girlfriend leaned out from the hallway, whining, "Come on baby, I still need to cum!"

Her light brown, blonde-highlighted hair fell down to the floor off the side of her teasing face and playful eyes. She'd positioned herself so she leaned out of the hallway and only showed herself from the chest up. That chest, however, was bare, showing off her small perky breasts and their hard pink nipples that stuck out like control knobs. She winked at me when I looked at her, and her boyfriend smirked when he looked back at me.

"Something, isn't she?" he asked.

"Sure," I replied.

"Wanna say hi?" he suggested.

Guessing things probably wouldn't stop at "hi," I begged off and went back to my car.

It was a fifty-fifty guess on my part about the last one. A good looking older woman answered the door to get the pizza and she was topless, but given the aroma that hit my nose like a sucker punch and her somewhat vacant look, I could believe she'd simply forgotten to put on a shirt. She took the pizza without comment or any sort of invitation.

Saturday morning I participated in the common practice observed by many high school and college students; sleep through most of it. When I woke it was 11:00am. Unfortunately, I'd apparently slept too much; I woke up groggy and even after a coffee I couldn't shake it.

CC had a day shift at the comic shop. I texted her to see how she was doing.

"We 'accidentally' got a shipment of anime-themed vibrators delivered here. Something is definitely fucked up."

"Could it have been a prank?"

"The Amazon delivery person actually stayed to watch me open the package and then was commenting on how she'd never seen that kind of vibe before and wondering how well it worked. I practically had to throw her out of the store to get her to leave."

"Yeah, no Amazon driver would waste that much time."

I tried doing research online about something similar to our situation but once I filtered out the porn and erotica-related items the only results left were a few different psychological diagnoses on the theme of "We're losing our minds and need medication." The only one that didn't put most of the blame on us was the possibility of mass hysteria, but that didn't quite fit because everyone wasn't behaving the same way.

I gave up before going to work. I had a long shift at Central Pizza on Saturday; obviously Bud got a lot of orders on Saturday night, but it was hard for him to get reliable drivers what with so many people wanting social lives. I think the fact that I was willing to give him the whole night made me employee of the month automatically.

When I got to the store I absentmindedly pulled open the back door and walked through while still looking at my phone so I slammed right into the person coming out the other way. Fortunately the full trash bag they held was off to the side so we didn't squeeze it between us or, worse, pop it, but we hit hard enough to fall back on our asses.

When I looked up I was struck dumb. I'd run into Amy DeLuca again, literally. Except this time she had on a polo shirt with Central Pizza's name on it and an apron.

"Amy?" I asked.

"Shit, I...I'm sorry," she said sheepishly. She scrambled up and reached for the trash bag but I'd already snagged it and stood.

"Where's this going?" I asked.

She nodded to the dumpster in the corner of the back lot the pizza place shared with a nail salon and a real estate office. "What are you doing, this is employees only?"

"I'm a driver. What are you doing here?" I asked.

She shrugged. "Bonny's my cousin," she said.

"Who's Bonny?" I asked, wracking my brain trying to remember if I'd even seen any other female employees. I thought the three other cooks I'd seen were Hispanic. Of course I knew there were other drivers but I hardly ever saw them.

"Bud," she clarified, "His real name is Bonaldo. I know he tells everyone to call him 'Bud' but he's been Bonny to me since I was three."

"Oh. I'm guessing I shouldn't use that name then?" I said.

"No lie, he'd probably throw you in the pizza oven," Amy said, and looked nervous enough that I wasn't sure if she was kidding.

"Well it's nice to see you here, anyway."

That was the highlight of the night for me, or the least stressful part anyway. Bud had Amy keep track of the delivery orders and I think she helped prep some of them; I never got a clear sense of how much she knew about the operations of the place that night. I had another flasher during a delivery to an apartment building but I barely looked, somehow hoping that if I ignored the first incident there wouldn't be any more that night.

I was starting to think I might have actually been onto something; there was no illicit activity or invitation for a good two hours. Then Amy handed me a stack of 6 pies and an address I knew was for the college on the outskirts of the city.

"This is gonna take me a while," I said.

"I know, so does Bon-uh...Bud," Amy said, "But he takes the college orders to encourage business. I think he's hoping to open another place down there. Anyway, he's gonna add a bonus for you and don't worry about rushing back."

It was 8:00pm by that point and I figured it would take me an hour and half to make the round trip. I sighed and took the order. The traffic wasn't bad and I made better time to the college than I expected. Then I cursed when I saw where the actual address took me.

I was driving down fraternity row, making worse progress than I had coming into the city because of the students randomly walking or running out into the street. I eventually pulled to a stop in front of the Rho Omega Kappa sorority, and I immediately got the sense this sisterhood was not a paragon of academic standards.

The house was an old colonial mansion style building with a wide front porch. The letters for the sorority were on the front wall above the overhang for the porch but they'd been...modified. The symbol for "Rho" looks like a "P" but someone had painted over the curve so it looked more like an "F". And then the Omega symbol had been turned upside-down.

Two of the girls sat on the railing as I drove up. One was in yoga pants and a bra that her larger breasts seemed ready to fall out of as she swayed back and forth with a drink in her hand. Her companion had on either a long T-shirt or a short casual dress with nothing on her legs, very much giving the impression she wasn't' wearing anything beneath it. It was blatantly obvious when she turned and bounced over to the front door that at least she wasn't wearing a bra.

I got the bags out of the car and the two of them were already nearly skipping down the walk to meet me. They took my arms and dragged me into the house.

A whole group of girls milled around in their main living room (common room? Gathering room? Parlor?) in a wide variety of outfits. There were some basically fully dressed, maybe just barefoot, all the way down to one girl who was literally just in a bra and panties. Also, all of the girls were at least a 7, most higher.

"It was a guy! Wait are you gay?" the T-shirt/dress girl asked.

"Um no. Look I-"

"Sweet! All you bitches get in here! It's competition time!" she shrieked, nearly deafening my left ear. I could also tell she'd had at least one drink, likely several.

I wanted to check the time but I couldn't see a clock anywhere and I was still holding the bags. Eventually one of the other girls said, "For fuck's sake, Tiff, he's still holding the pizzas!"

"Oh shit, sorry," Tiff said, and then took the bags, I tried to object, saying I needed those bags back, but she disappeared behind a growing crowd of females.

Ten or twelve of them were in the room by then and Tiff came bounding back to cut me off before I could move for the bags.

"Okay rocking bitches! Rush week starts next week and we're gonna have a bunch of desperate tramps whoring themselves to get in here. In true ROK tradition, we have to decide who becomes the pledge wrangler! And how do we do that!?"

"Boobs battle!" nearly all the girls shouted.

About halfway through Tiff's speech I'd figured out that "rock" seemed to be a play on the abbreviation for their sorority, though I didn't think it made sense thinking about it in English or Greek. But that only grabbed my attention for a very brief time as I tried to figure a way out of my current predicament.

"Now I'm not eligible since I won last year, because you can't beat these babies!"

Tiff lifted up her T-shirt/dress, revealing that she actually was wearing a thong, but no bra. Her breasts were almost literally unbelievable. They both stuck out proudly from her chest with large nipple and a near-perfect teardrop shape, and they were so perky there was barely any sag. I was hypnotized by them briefly, but all the other girls were jeering her.

"Yeah, shut up all you jealous cunts. Like I said, I can't win anyway. All you line up and show your goods and-who are you?" she asked, turning to me suddenly.

"Jay, but-"

"Jay here is going to pick the best tits. Now he is going to have to give a reason, so don't just pick them at random. Doesn't have to be a good reason, though."

The girls started scrambling and arranging themselves into a line. I began to notice one girl who was obviously less enthusiastic about this, and the line seemed to sort of be forming around her, rather than her joining it voluntarily. She also, based on the top she was wearing, was probably not the odds-on favorite to win this particular competition.

"All right, ready to figure out who gets to be pledge wrangler?" Tiff asked.

"How is that a prize, again?" one of the girls said.

"Because you've got guaranteed transport to every pledge event, you don't have to pay for the gas, and you've got a van full of desperate sluts you can basically make do whatever you want. Have 'em buy you coffee, carry your shit. Hell, make 'em get you off while you're driving. Now, everyone ready? One, two, three, flash 'em!"

At her signal all the girls removed whatever tops they had, almost in unison. My brain short-circuited as I was presented with a line of boobs of...well okay a variety of shapes and sizes. All of them were breasts of college co-eds that had clearly been picked based on looks, regardless of what this sorority's charter said. There were a few pairs I could have suffocated in, at least one set that looked blatantly fake, and a few that were prematurely losing their fight with gravity but probably looked awesome in a bra (the yoga pants girl from the porch was one of these).

I was debating just leaving the heat bags and running but I knew Bud wouldn't appreciate that ("Those bags weren't cheap" was his warning to me on day one) and the look on Tiff's face said she might have a few nasty ideas for me if I shirked my "duty."

As I surveyed the line, my eyes kept coming back to the reluctant girl. Her chest was definitely on the smaller end, if not the smallest of the crowd. But her breasts were so perky they were almost perfect domes on her chest, and her small nipples poked out in just the right place. If I had to guess, I'd say they were a B cup. Instinctively, I said, "Her."

"How the fuck do you figure that?" asked a girl farther down the line. She had mammoth tits on her, each one about the size of her head and spreading to the sides just because that was where gravity said they had to go. They were nicely sized and shaped for her frame, which was also on the larger side but not fat.

The crowd looked at me expectantly, several of them glaring daggers at me, including the girl I'd picked, oddly enough. But looking at her more closely I thought I saw a glimmer of hope in her eyes. I decided to go for broke.

"Look, hers fit nice in my hands," I began, making the near universal gesture for feeling up a girl's chest, "And even if she puts on a few pounds for whatever reason, those are so high and tight they'd still look awesome without a bra. Then down the line, right? Say she has kids? They're just gonna push out and get even better. Plus she isn't gonna need a chiropractor at 30."

"Makes sense to me," Tiff said, "Congratulations Mel, who knew you had it in you? Or on you? Now everyone thank our judge."

I was assaulted. The girls swarmed me in a wave so every one of them could press their chests against me and kiss my face. Mel, the girl I'd chosen, actually jumped on me first and wrapped her legs around my waist so she could give me a full-on French kiss before dropping off and leaving me to the mercy of the rest of the topless girls. I finally staggered over to the table to grab the heat bags and get out of there, my body still echoing with the feel of so many tits pressed against me.