Senior Year Memories Ch. 28

Until then... I still had the texts from my Unknown caller. The pictures were enticing, beautiful tits, ass, a fine body in even finer lingerie. She was tantalizingly close to naked, with the fabric sometimes millimeters away from showing something good, but never enough. I couldn't tell who it was, she always kept her face out of it, but if I had to wager, I'd have assumed one of the older book club ladies Mrs. Lynn told me about. Whoever she was, she was hot, and if the texts she sent with the pictures were true, her intentions were pretty clear.

Unknown: Do you like?

Unknown: Imagine these tits wrapped around your cock

Unknown: Want to feel this ass?

Unknown: This ass wants to feel you

Unknown: Think these are cocksucking lips?

Unknown: I can treat you so nice.

Unknown: Why aren't you texting me back?

Unknown: Don't you want to cover me in cum?

I did. I really did, but I hadn't texted back because I wanted to see where this was going. I was so tempted, and she was very distracting, keeping me on edge without ever pushing me over, but if it was what I thought it was, I wanted to play it safe. If it came to anything, however, I knew I'd fuck her as hard as I could.

But that was all maybes and perhaps and probablies, nothing for sure. She hadn't set up any plan, hadn't done anything beyond teasing, and if that's all it was...

A backpack hit the table in front of me, the chair next to me pulled out as a large man sat down next to me.

"Hey, man. Sorry I'm late," he said.

Half a head taller and 60 pounds of muscle heavier than me and wearing his football team letterman's jacket, 18-year-old Peter Nixon's mere presence made my heart drop. I thought I could handle him here, I thought I could handle this guy I was pretty sure hated me, but I couldn't. He had plenty of reason to hate me, from getting Kyle expelled to fucking his girlfriend to usurping his position as school's biggest ladies' man (though I was uncertain of the latter). He was handsome and confident and usually had an easy smile, but for me over the past few months, I'd only seen him as the guy who probably wanted to kill me.

"It's okay. You're, uh, not the latest," I stammered.

"You okay?" Peter asked. "You look like you saw a ghost."

I really hoped a joke would pull me out of this. "You know, you're the second person to tell me that today?"

It didn't.

Peter laughed. "Well, when the shoe fits, and let me tell you, it fits on you now. Do you need some water, fresh air, maybe?"

I felt like I was going to throw up. "I'm fine."

"You're not fine, you're-" Peter said, stopping and laughing, then putting his palm to his head. "You're scared of me?"

"A little bit," I squeaked.

Peter laughed. "Is it a jock-nerd thing? A because I'm black thing? Or... ah, it's because of Kyle and Sasha, isn't it?"

Wordlessly, I nodded.

Peter ran a hand through his short-cropped hair. "That's my fault... sorry. About Kyle, I mean; I hold nothing against you for Sasha, since you showed her a good time and she's got nothing but good stuff to say about ya. Treat my girl right, and I'll treat you right is how I see it. About Kyle, though, that's on me. I might've been pissed at you for a time with him bein' kicked out and all, but that's 'cause I didn't know all about him. I thought him and me were friends, and I had to watch his back because of that. He had different ideas, so I got some perspective on things. With all that and Sasha, I got a different view on you, so... sorry if I ever had you afraid."

This wasn't how I imagined this meeting to go. It didn't fix everything, but it did slow my heart enough that I didn't feel like passing out.

"That's good to hear," I said.

"Good. I'm glad. And I'm glad you're willing to help me out, even with a good scare," Peter laughed.

"You want the help?" I asked.

"Nobody wants to admit they want help, but, yeah, I could use it," Peter said. "School and me... I don't hate it. I really don't. But when I try to read something and the letters all get out of order, it can be... a problem, especially for gettin' on to college."

"Dyslexia?" I asked.

He nodded. "I've been doing therapy for it since I was a kid, but it's not always worked so hot. All my teachers know it and try to help, so I thought you should, too, if we're gonna get into this. We're gonna get into this, right?"

"Totally," I said.

Peter chuckled. "You've spent a lot of time around Brooke, haven't you?"

I laughed. "Totally."

"She's a cute one. A wildcat in the sack, too," he said.

"Tell me about it," I replied. I hadn't expected to have even this much in common with Peter Nixon, so it was about as good a start as any.

"You want my help?" I finally asked.

"If it helps me graduate from more than just my football skills, yeah," Peter said.

"I can't promise you that much, and a lot of it's gonna have to come from you," I said.

"I know," Peter replied. "If you'll try, I'll try."

He had a good attitude about getting tutored, I gave him that. Better than Kaitlyn did when we first started out. I was willing to admit that I'd misjudged Peter early on, and realized that I wanted to make it up to him. I thought about his situation. "You've memorized plays out on the field, right?"

"Yeah," Peter said.

"Then I can help you memorize enough history to get a passing grade," I said.

"Really?" he asked, hopeful.

"Really," I confirmed.

He held out his hand for me to shake. "Thank you, so much, man, I mean it. I need this and... thank you."

I shook his hand. "No problem. Let's you and me work out a schedule, and I'll start helping you out when you're ready."

"Thanks," he said, smiling broadly.

I laughed. "If only the rest of the people I'm tutoring were this dedicated," I said.

"They're not?" he asked.

I shook my head. "Jess Garza was supposed to be here too, but I bet she's just off somewhere getting high."

"No, she isn't," Peter said. "I saw her down in the alley by the soccer field, doin' tricks with some of the other skaters."

"Huh," I said. A moment ago, I was willing to write both Peter and Jess off, but with Peter showing his dedication, I realized that I probably owed Jess that much of a chance too.

The day may not have been perfect, but it was starting to turn around; I just hoped that Jess was willing to help turn it around with me.

***

The alley between our school's disused soccer field and the houses beyond wasn't much of an alley as it was a narrow strip of occasionally paved land that separated Regan Hills High from the outside world. It boasted just enough shade and discarded pieces of furniture from the school to make it a popular place to hang out if you weren't interested in being seen.

I squeezed through a gap in the soccer field's fence and found the crowd I was looking for pretty quickly, a handful of maybe four students either getting high or doing what little they could do in the way of skateboard tricks on some of the old, cracked concrete benches left in the alley.

The person I was looking for was one of the latter.

"Jess!" I called out to her.

The short skater in the hoodie and knit cap looked at me, then her friends. She laughed, "Guess who's finally busted? You guys run; I'll catch up."

The others didn't really run so much as they ambled out of there, leaving me and Jess alone in the alley. It felt planned, which made it feel more annoying.

"We were supposed to meet in the library almost forty-five minutes ago," I said.

"Yeah, I know," Jess said, bending over and picking up her board, setting it down on a nearby bench. Though she was a tiny little 18-year-old Latina, she had some decent curves. Her jeans may have been full of holes on the front, but that didn't hide the nice, round and wide ass in the back. Her faded gray hoodie covered most of her upper body, but in the front it was unzipped, giving a nice view of the tight, midriff baring black shirt with a white skull in the center, stretched across a nice pair of DDs. Her smile was lazy but cute, her eyes lively if a little unfocused, and her hair was mostly stuck under an old knit cap, but the few black curls that snuck out from underneath were shiny and pretty.

She was, for all intents and purposes, kinda hot for a skater girl, but I was so annoyed with her right now I could mostly ignore that.

Mostly.

"Then why didn't you?" I asked.

"Because I didn't want to," Jess said, matter-of-factly.

"I don't think Mrs. Lynn's going to appreciate hearing that," I said.

"Who the fuck cares what Mrs. Lynn thinks?" Jess asked.

"I do," I said.

"Well, yeah, of course *you* do, you're a teacher's pet. Why should *I* care what Mrs. Lynn thinks?" Jess asked.

"Maybe you should because, oh, I dunno, she's in charge of your grade? And if you don't make an effort to make our tutoring sessions, you'll get in trouble?" I suggested.

Jess snorted. "I've been in trouble before. I'm used to trouble. I can survive more trouble."

"Really? That's all you've got to say about that?" I asked.

"Yup," she replied. "But if me being in trouble's stuck on your conscience, you can always, ya know, sign the paper Mrs. Lynn gave me and tell her I've been a good little student?"

Jess tried to say this in a way that sounded half-hearted and casual, but I could tell she was actually hopeful. Alright, if that's how she wanted to play it, two could play that game.

"Yeah, no, it's not that easy," I said.

"That's not what I hear," she said, stepping slightly closer to me.

"What do you hear?" I asked.

She took another step closer, looking down, then up at me. "That you'll let girls slide for sex."

"That's not how it works," I clarified.

"Oh, no?" Jess taunted. "I heard you let a slut cheerleader slide on tutoring in exchange for her fucking you. I call that a fair exchange. I'm good at five things: skating, welding, smoking weed, paintball... and fucking."

"I didn't let her slide. She's still doing the work. She's doing better, too," I said.

"Well, isn't that dandy?" Jess asked. She hooked her thumbs under the edge of her shirt and began pulling it up her abs. "Don't be so quick to turn me down, not when you haven't seen these..."

She pulled her shirt up over her tits, and the massive breasts popped down. They were round and firm and a true sight to behold, with dark, palm-sized areolas and firm nipples that stood out like bullets.

"Jess!" I exclaimed.

"What?" she said, closing the distance between us. One of her hands, strong and firm, gripped my cock through my pants and began to rub me, while her other hand took one of mine and brought it between her legs.

"This isn't how this is supposed to go," I said.

"Yeah, but you're still pretty excited," she said, guiding my hand over the waistline of her jeans and pressing it down inside. My fingers grazed warm, moist lips, and she groaned. "And so am I."

God, this felt good. Good, but wrong. I'd had sexual encounters begin similar to this, why couldn't this one?

"I can just drop to my knees and give you one hell of a BJ right now, or we could go back to my van and you can fuck me however you want; I do pretty much everything, and I'm really, really good. If you're as good as everyone says, we can make some sweet music, you can pass me past tutoring, and..."

That was it. That was what brought me back. I pulled my hand out of her pants and stepped back.

"I can't do this. Not like this. It has to stop," I said.

A little hurt, a little angry, a little confused, Jess pulled down her shirt and said, "But, I thought you were, you know..."

"What? Easy?" I shot back.

The word hits her like a slap to the face. "Well, yeah. You aren't?"

"I am. Sometimes. The right times. This isn't a right time. I have sex when it's fun and with someone I want to have sex with, and though you are... achingly hot... and I'd love to have sex with you at a better time, I'm not gonna do it like this," I said.

"I'm confused," she said.

"Me too. This might be a first for me to be in this exact situation, I'm not sure. Whatever it is, though... I can't let you off of this in exchange for sex," I said.

"So that's how it's gonna be, huh? You're just gonna let Mrs. Lynn ride me for the rest of the year and give me a hard time on my grades?" Jess shot back.

"That doesn't have to be the case, not if you do the work," I said.

"But I can't do the work," Jess said.

"Why not?" I asked.

Jess groaned in frustration, and not in a good way. "Because I'm bad at it, okay? Because I suck at this. I meant it when I said I was good at five things. Those are the only five things I'm good at, and I dunno about you, but I didn't hear me say schoolwork. No matter what I do and how I try, I fuck things up, and it just ain't worth trying."

My phone buzzed in my pocket. Despite great temptation, I chose to give my attention now to Jess, who was clearly struggling.

"Then come to tutoring. I'll help you out however I can. In history... fuck, in whatever other subjects I can. Believe it or not, I want to help."

"And what's in it for you?" Jess asked.

"Nothing. Satisfaction that I've helped someone who needs it. That's all, really," I said.

Jess didn't seem convinced. "I dunno..."

She had doubts in herself. Serious ones. I didn't know what her home life was like, or what her past with learning was like, but I saw someone who'd given up a while ago and just settled into a complacency she saw no reason to get out of. If there was some way I could just motivate her...

And this was when I had one of those ideas that was so crazy it might work.

"Fine. I'll fuck you," I said.

Her eyes brightened, a little. "Yeah?"

"If you try," I said.

"If I try?" Jess said.

"If you try," I repeated. "Come to tutoring. Let me help you. Do your assignments. Show me some progress. If you make some progress in your homework, on tests, quizzes... I'll fuck you," I said.

She looked dubious. "That's... I dunno."

"You say you're really, really good at sex?" I challenged.

"Yeah," she replied.

"Well, I'm better than that. Chances are I might be the best fuck you'll find in this whole damn school. Every girl I've been with, I've made cum multiple times just because I like making it happen, and if you try, I'll give you the fuck of a lifetime. I'll make you cum so hard you won't know what hit you, and I'll do it as many times as you'd like. However you want my cock, whatever you want to do with it, wherever you want it, I'll do it. You need a new fuck buddy? I can be your guy. All you have to do is let me help you, and make an effort," I said.

Jess thought about this. She thought about it for a while, actually, enough that the buzzing of my phone reminding me of my newest text was starting to get annoying.

"Fine. I'll try. For how long?" Jess asked.

"Ideally, until you graduate. Other than that, how 'bout we give it a month? You improve your grades by the end of January, and all bets are off hardcore fucking is on the table," I said.

"So this is how you motivate, huh? You're crazy," Jess said, smiling and running a hand under her cap. "You're crazy, but... I like crazy. Fine, we'll do some tutoring, see if you rub off on me."

I gave her my phone number so we could set up something more concrete with our schedule, and at that, we went our separate ways. I sincerely hoped that Jess wasn't just trying to pull one over on me and wasn't just going to ghost me when I'd put myself out there for her, because I truly did feel like I could do something for her. I didn't know why, but I believed in her.

I only hoped she was capable of believing in herself.

I slipped back through the gap in the fence and started to make my way back toward my bike. I was looking forward to going home, getting caught up on my own homework, and hopefully chatting with Josie some before bed.

Once again, my phone buzzed with reminder that I had an unread text.

I pulled it from my pocket, and what do you know, it was from my mysterious Unknown caller again. There was no picture attached to this one, only a simple text message.

Unknown: Bungalow 237. I'll be there for another 30 minutes. Curious?

I paused. The message was sent maybe fifteen minutes ago. How curious was I? Curious enough to follow this trail of sexy breadcrumbs, or not so curious that I wouldn't just go home right now?

I looked over toward the faculty lot near where my bike was parked, then at the bungalows on the disused soccer field, tapping my foot and seriously thinking about what I had to do.

***

As it turned out, I was curious enough.

Bungalow 237 was unlocked when I stepped inside. Though its windows were still blacked out from when it was the Puma Press' haunted house for our school's Halloween Scream, the interior looked completely different. It had been repurposed once again for storage, though was nowhere near as bad as it was when Josie and I first set about clearing it out. There were a few walls of empty filing cabinets, a handful of broken desks, and a single couch on the wall opposite me.

The couch was not empty.

"Hello, Mr. Collins," she said. "If you're here for the reason you and I both know you are, I'd ask that you lock the door behind you?"

"Of course," I said, locking the door, "Mrs. Addams."

Mrs. Janelle Addams sat on the couch, a little more tired than I saw her this morning, yet still every bit as gorgeous. Her business-like suit of matching skirt and jacket did little to hide her big ass and bigger tits, while her toned legs looked positively tasty in her stockings. She'd kicked off her heels sometime before I got here, and her gorgeous face was definitely showing the end of a long day, but she still looked unbelievably hot.

I set my backpack by the door and walked over to her.

"Did you like my pictures?" she asked.

"Oh, yes," I said.

"Did they make you hard?" she asked.

"Yes. Did taking them make you wet?" I asked, feeling out what exact game she wanted to play here.

"Yes," she said without the slightest embarrassment. "You know, next time you can feel free to text back your appreciation. Maybe a nice close-up of that cock Brenda and Lauren keep telling me about."

I smiled. "I was just looking to play it safe, see how interested you were, and make sure you were for real, that I wasn't falling into some kind of trap. Can't be too careful these days, can we?"

"Oh, this isn't a trap, and I'm very much for real. Are you?" she purred.

"It depends on what you have in mind," I returned.

Mrs. Addams sighed. "Listen, Ryan, I'm going to be blunt. I've had one real bitch of a day at the end of a real cunt of a few months and need to let off some serious steam. I know you're considerate, and I know you're a talker, and later some of that will be greatly appreciated, but until then I don't need considerate, and I don't need talk. I don't want to be in any more control today; I want to be fucked and used like a goddamn whore until you make me cum over and over again. I want to be called names and treated roughly and fucked until I can't walk straight. I need your cum... on me, in me, wherever. I just need... release, and I think you're one of the few capable of giving it."

She stood up from the couch and walked in front of me. "And for you... I'll do anything your sick teenaged mind wants. I know I'm not your first teacher, but I'm sure you've had your fantasies about me too, haven't you? I know the way the boys stare at me, every one of them wanting a glimpse and none of them ever getting it no matter how tempted I am because I'm so prim and proper and following the rules. Wouldn't you love to see what I've got underneath this? Wouldn't you love to feel it? To fuck it?"

My short answer to this was, 'God yes, please yes, oh sweet Jesus, thank you, yes!'