Average High School Life Ch. 04

I pulled out of the sorority row, maneuvered through the side streets, and let out a long breath as I made it to the main state road out of town. As I drove, I felt the panic of the immediate situation melt away and just remembered the amazing view of the line of topless girls and the feel of them all crowding on me. I shifted a bit as the memory stirred my cock.

"Hi stud."

I nearly slammed into the concrete barriers.

"What the fuck?!" I shouted at Mel, who had popped up behind my seat, "What are you doing here?!"

"Shut up and drive," she said.

What I wanted to do was pull over, but there wasn't a convenient spot to do it. The area I was currently driving through was a weird rural/suburban mix; there were regular houses and roads but most of the houses sat on multi-acre lots, some with animal pens and others with farmland. Every now and then there would be a block of smaller lots where some old farmstead had obviously been sold off to a developer and converted to multiple houses.

The point was, if I pulled over to the side of the road it would be obvious, and either helpful people or suspicious police were likely to stop and check what was going on.

As all of that ran through my mind, Mel seemed to contort her petite body and slip between the front seats from the back. She nearly pressed her ass against my face in the process and she was wearing yoga pants. I thought I could smell some tantalizing aromas but I also thought I might be imagining it.

She settled into the passenger seat and smiled at me. "Hi!"

"You said that already, and you didn't answer my question," I said.

"I'm here to thank you for picking me. I'm gonna have those pledges eating out of my hand...and other places," she giggled naughtily, "I didn't think I had a chance, especially with Tamara thunder-tits."

"Um, you're welcome?" I offered, "But maybe you could have, I don't know, called the pizza shop and left a note?"

"Oh no, you deserve more of a reward than that," she said.

Her hands moved before I was aware of what she was doing. She had my pants down and her hand around my balls before I realized she'd moved. I flinched and tried to deter her, but she blocked the hand I got free and I accidentally stepped on the brake trying to twist my hips out of the way, so I quickly figured that was a bad idea.

Unfortunately for me, my hip shifting had let Mel get my pants down more, so my cock was now freely exposed, albeit flaccid.

"Aww, you aren't excited to see me?" Mel asked teasingly, "Well let's do something about that."

Apparently this girl didn't do anything slow. To me it looked like a scene out of a horror movie; we passed by a streetlight that lit up the car and Mel was smirking at me, fully dressed. Then by the time we got to the next streetlight, she was naked.

Her near-perfectly domed tits stood out on her chest with their pointed nipples. She sat with one leg down in the footwell of the passenger seat and the other one bent up and resting against the seat back, meaning her tight, cleanly shaven pussy was fully visible. Her hand also came back and began fondling my balls as one finger traced the underside of my cock.

The reality was I'd been dealing with several days of stimulation and teasing without any real relief. I'd destroyed most of a box of tissues but there'd been nothing involving another person since that encounter in the maker lab. Succumbing to my urges while driving probably wasn't smart, but holding off my 18 year old libido for days had been too much. I had no idea what Mel was going to do, but I stopped trying to keep her from doing it.

She seemed to sense my moment of surrender, because she shifted her position drastically. Again demonstrating impressive flexibility, she spun herself around to a point where her head lay on my thigh, she had one hand wrapped around and pumping my quickly hardening shaft, and the rest of her body was in the "face down, booty up" position, the somewhat pointed curves of her thin ass forming two peaks next to me. I stayed in the right lane of the two-lane road, partially because I knew I might be going slower, and also because if anyone pulled up on my right they were going to get a free look at all of Mel's goods.

She had me hard enough in no time. I wasn't as hard as I'd ever been; the anxiety of focusing on the road was still fighting with the direct stimulation, but it was enough that I was definitely feeling good from her hand rubbing up and down my shaft and teasing the bottom of my head.

Then she shifted forward. I put my hands at "10 and 2" on the wheel because it was the only way she had enough room. She'd withdrawn her hand and kissed and licked at my balls while nuzzling my cock with her cheek. Then she started flicking her tongue back and forth on the underside of my shaft as she made her way up my cock to the head. When her tongue flicked the sensitive bit right under the edge of my cock I actually jerked and revved the engine.

"Careful big boy," she said, "I don't want to die with your cock down my throat."

Her words didn't have a chance to register before she put actions to words and swallowed me.

I blame the aforementioned days of teasing and my nerves for the fact that as soon as I felt my cock hit the back of her throat I exploded. I heard her gag a little but then there were audible gulps. I did feel a warm spot next to my cock where some of my spunk must have leaked out, but after my cock emptied itself in her mouth and she licked it off, she went down and swiped that dollop off with her tongue.

"I...um...thanks," I said once my breathing was sort of under control.

"You're welcome," she said, "Do you have your own place?"

"Um, no. And I don't get off work until 11:00," I said.

"Well, there goes your chance to fuck me all night," she said.

I didn't think I looked disappointed, but she said, "No, don't worry, I was kidding. Or was I? You'll never know now, will you? But I need to get off, so I'm gonna finger myself."

She put on quite a show. Her leg went back into the footwell but this time she straightened the other one out and rested it on my shoulder while she pushed herself into the corner between her seat and the door. She started off using her fingers to circle and pinch her nipples, simply leaving her pussy open to view. The slightly darker skin of her labia looked a bit redder in the flashes where it was fully lit by the streetlamps.

She kept up the nipple play for a mile or two and then one hand slid slowly down her stomach while her other hand went up to her mouth. She sucked on her index finger, making eye contact with me whenever I looked over at her. The hand that moved south pulled her pussy wide open, displaying the pink insides and letting some moisture drip on the seat.

She didn't bother slowly moving her other hand; she just brought it down to her pussy. She traced along the edges with her finger, as if it was circling the drain that was her vagina. She hummed a little when the finger got to the top, presumably dragging over her clit on each circle. Then she pushed it inside of herself. She let it sit for a moment, then pulled out and moved the finger up to her clit, or near to it, and then pushed back in.

Before long she added a second finger, both of them pushing into her box and coming back up to deposit moisture on her button, or to tease it with proximity. She also started pumping faster. Soon she was skipping the part about teasing her clit and just pushed her fingers deep, practically punching herself with the force. She moaned almost constantly by then, and her other hand had moved up to maul her tit; I imagined that Mel probably liked it rough when she fucked.

There were a few points when I felt her leg shake, then her arm slowed down and she breathed deeply before speeding up again. I couldn't tell if she was having orgasms or if she was bringing herself to the brink and backing off. I did start to get a little worried as she carried on; we were getting to the outskirts of my town and soon the occasional streetlights would become more frequent, and there would be more people that could see exactly what she was doing.

She seemed to realize it too. I suddenly felt her leg leave my shoulder. I looked over for longer than I should have.

She'd hooked her leg over the back of the chair, which twisted her hips so her ass was more visible. Then she brought her other hand down and shoved a finger into her puckered asshole.

The anal penetration did it and she let out an ear-splitting shriek as she practically bounced in her seat from cumming. At least, I assumed it was cumming; it was entirely possible it had all been a show for me and she faked it, but by then I was beyond caring for a few reasons. I was also hard again, something clearly obvious because I hadn't had a chance to pull my pants up.

"Aww, I got you all hard again," she said.

Fortunately she had her clothes back on by the time we hit the populated areas. She also helped me with my clothes, though her literally slapping my hard member and saying, "Bad cock; back in your pants," wasn't as funny to me as it was to her. I ended up dropping her at the local movie theater, where she assured me she could meet up with friends or get a ride.

It was 9:45 by the time I made it back to Central Pizza and I felt like I'd run from there to the college and back. Amy noticed immediately.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

I didn't know how to answer that, and she seemed to pick up on it.

"Come in and rest for a bit. Grab a Coke out of the fridge," she said.

She delayed or handed off a couple of deliveries and gave me a solid 20 minute break. I kicked myself later at the idea of losing the money from the tips but I appreciated the break and the soda. By the time I went back out I was a little more energized.

The road head took the edge off my libido even if it spiked my anxiety, so I wasn't as thrown off balance when, on my next-to-last delivery, two women answered the door with their clothes in disarray. Their outfits had, at one point, been skirt suits, I think, but one of them didn't have the bottom anymore and only wore her pink panties and blouse, while the other's blouse was totally unbuttoned but still on by virtue of being tucked into her skirt. There was no visible bra and the swells and folds of her breasts were easy to see. Both were brunettes, though I caught a hint of red tint on one of them, and had brown eyes. There was also a red flush to both of their faces and a plumpness to their lips.

"Sorry," one of them said, and by the smell she probably could have lit her breath on fire, "We...um were busy and then we realized we were hungry."

"Are hungry," the reddish tinted one said. Grabbing the box and pushing her girlfriend inside.

I paused for a moment, thinking that the scene was a lot different than my other encounters. I vaguely heard one of the girls scolding the other for explaining to me what happened.

I made it back to Central Pizza, figuring there might be one last run before the delivery orders shut down, but Amy had nothing for me. She was still giving me a compassionate look and told me to wait before I left. She disappeared into the back and then came out without the apron.

"Give me a ride home?" she asked.

I agreed without thinking; I'd never had a problem doing favors.

We drove in silence for a while, but eventually Amy asked, "Long night?"

"Huh?" I replied, showing off my erudite communication skills, as one of my English teachers had once said. She was known for being bitingly sarcastic.

"You looked out of it after the run to the college, and it didn't seem to get better. Are you having trouble on the deliveries?" Amy asked.

"I...maybe a bit?" I hazarded.

"Sorry," Amy said.

I shrugged, "I mean, not gonna lie; there's a reason people don't make a career out of pizza delivery if they can help it."

Then I noticed Amy shrank away and blushed after she apologized, and it hadn't gone away. "What?" I prompted.

"I...Well I thought you might like the sorority house," she admitted.

"You knew that's what it was?" I asked.

"It's not the first time they've ordered from us, Jay. And come on; who else is gonna order that many white, gluten free, and veggie pizzas? I was basically the 'neurotic skinny white girl special order'."

I was a bit taken aback by the venom that crept into her voice and it must have shown in my face.

"Sorry," she said again, "Anyway, a couple of our long-term drivers know that address by heart and beg me for those runs. Derek even offered me all of whatever tip he got every time I gave him the run, as if I'm too dumb to see though that one."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"How much did you get from the co-eds as a tip?" she asked.

I thought back and that's when it hit me they hadn't actually given me any money. "Wait, they didn't tip on...?"

Amy was already shaking her head with a rueful smile. "See? They just smile and wave and coo and make you guys think you might ever have a chance with them and then they get out of giving a tip. Do you even get anything out of that? Honestly?"

I was struck speechless as I suddenly wondered if the other delivery guys did get charmed out of a tip or if they were getting their gratuity in...other forms.

"Wait," Amy said, apparently reading my face like a book again, "Did...oh my God what did they do?"

"Um," I hesitated and she jumped on it.

"Jay if you don't tell me I'm gonna tell Bonny you were screwing on company time and he'll fire you-"

"I've been trying not to!" I yelled.

I don't know why, but all my frustration from the past week chose that moment to explode. I nearly deafened myself with how loud I yelled and then I just lost it. I vented about how weird and uncomfortable I was about the sorority incident and all the other weird encounters that night. I literally have no idea how I didn't kill the both of us because I have no recollection of my driving. Just that by the time I got the notice that I'd "arrived at my destination" my throat was sore, my eyes were a bit watery, I'd bruised my hand from hitting the steering wheel while I gestured to make my points, and Amy looked at me like she was debating jumping out of the car and taking her chances.

I sighed and put my head in my arms on the steering wheel. "Sorry," I said, "Just...sorry."

"I...um...I'll see you in school," she said and got out of my car. She did close the door without slamming it and I didn't hear her sprinting to her front door. After gathering myself for a bit, I drove home and collapsed into bed.

-=-=-=-=-=-

I got something like 12 hours of sleep and woke up at noon.

"Good morning Jay. Would you like breakfast or lunch?" my mother asked me, her voice sweet and her face smirking.

"You left your phone down here last night," she said as she turned to the cupboards, "It's vibrating quite a lot. I almost took it upstairs for some fun."

"MOM!" I nearly shouted, then cursed myself because my throat was raw. I was also in a bit of shock. Sex wasn't a completely taboo subject in my house, but that kind of joke from her was a bit out of character. I snagged the offending device and sat at the table.

There were a number of messages from CC but those hadn't started until about half an hour previous and the number was just because CC was one of those people that assumed the "send" button worked instead of a period. She wanted to meet on the hill later.

Scrolling back, I had a few random messages and notifications from apps and group chats related to games or the odd group at school. The earliest messages surprised me.

I had some snaps from Amy. There were only two, the first one sent the previous night about 15 minutes after I dropped her off that just said, "Did you make it home okay?"

The next message was from 7:30 in the morning (was the girl a masochist?) and longer. "Checking to see if you're okay. You had me a little worried last night. I'm sorry you're having trouble. If you want to quit I can smooth things over with Bud. You should think about telling him though. And if you need to talk, I mean, I know you're friends with CC, but if you need another ear I'll listen."

I should also note for the record that unlike every message I got that wasn't from my parents or spam bots, Amy's messages were fully spelled out and punctuated like she was writing a paper for school. It was actually a bit refreshing, even if it was weird at the same time.

Then I saw another message come in from CC. "???WFT w Uniforms!?!?!?!"

I was expecting some sort of picture or more explanation forthcoming but she just let the message stand on its own. That was when I noticed the package sitting on the table. It was one of those padded envelopes, but it was a big one, almost three feet long and half as wide. I pulled it over and saw that it was addressed to me.

"Mom, what's this?" I asked.

"It's addressed to you, Jay, how would I know?" she replied.

"I didn't order anything," I said.

"Well open it outside in case it's a bomb, will you?"

I didn't say my mother wasn't sarcastic, she just wasn't usually sarcastic about sex.

I ignored her and opened it; if the blast took both of us out I figured she deserved it.

Proving whatever company sent it had a solid commitment to preserving the environment, the contents of the padded plastic envelope were themselves sealed in another plastic bag. This one, however, was clear. They looked like clothes.

I slid them out. A blazer or sport jacket (I know the names, but not the difference) in navy blue was on a hangar, and folded on the bar of the hangar were a pair of pants that matched it. Folded over the pants was a thin tie, again navy blue.

"Oh that must be the new uniform!" my mother said as she came into the room.

"Uniform?" I asked.

"For school. They said they'd be sending a complimentary one to everyone and if you need to you can buy extras. Oh, I had to get you a few collared shirts, though; I did that yesterday while you were at work."

"Wait, when did they say this? They didn't announce it at school or anything!" I protested.

"Oh I don't know, it was in a parents' newsletter I think?" my mom said, "I mean, it's not a bad idea. CC's good but I remember a few times when I dropped you off at school and some of those girls..."

I didn't necessarily disagree with her on that point. The few specific restrictions in the school's mostly ambiguous dress code often targeted girls, something the socially conscious groups at the school had complained about to no end. But while I'd heard some female teachers make a comment to one girl or another at certain times, nobody was ever sent to the office over it. The male teachers never did anything, although the jury was out about which ones were afraid of being accused of sexual harassment after reporting a girl and which ones were just enjoying the views.

Regardless, while most of the girls just dressed very comfortably, there were always a few that could be relied upon to wear skin tight yoga pants with barely-there underwear and a shirt that covered every inch of skin on their torso but was tight enough to have been painted on (it was rumored three years ago one girl had actually paid for a professional body-paint job and made it through three classes before a teacher actually reported her for not wearing a shirt. Again, rumors persisted about whether the first two teachers didn't notice or just didn't care).

The most common issue with guys were the few that still wore pants low enough that the waists were around their knees. Usually they got those kids on safety more than dress code concerns. The other troublemakers came in with shirts that had swears or graphic imagery on them. Those incidents invariably went one of two ways; either the guy would apologize and claim (believably) that they weren't paying attention when they got dressed in the morning, or there would be a loud screaming incident where the guy ranted about oppression, freedom of speech, and fascist regimes until the police officer assigned to the school escorted them to a quiet room.