The Baker's Dozen Ch. 01

She was still coming to terms with the fact herself. One moment, she'd been bored out of her mind watching a tedious soccer game on her phone. The next moment, the teacher from school who fucked her old foster-sister bursts in, threatening to tell Hoy Día San Toribio about her dad's home-brewed 'premium Zacatecan' mezcal unless she sat on his cock.

The 'challenge' he proposed was simple enough: if she could outlast his erection without him blowing his load, her dad's secret would be safe. Thus had Lucia Vivanco allowed herself to be deflowered, more to safeguard her inheritance than protect her father's honor. She hadn't kept track of how long she'd been straddling him.

Weirdly, this wasn't the most humiliating thing to happen to her this summer. That prize went to the moment her mother had filled her wardrobe and dresser with nothing but sky-blue polo shirts and blue-and-black plaid skirts. Having flunked her finals, she was destined to wear nothing but her school uniform morning, noon, and night until she (hopefully) passed twelfth grade second time around. As if her diploma was ever going to be anything other than ornamental.

"Miss Vi-Vivanco?" murmured Dr Aquino in surprise.

Due to the countertop, neither one of them could see the other's face. What he could see was Lucia's bulk wobbling as she started to rock back and forth on his groin, standing up on tiptoes before falling back on her heels, over and over. Lucia had got to wondering if having a human being growing inside her would remind her mother to treat her daughter like one. Remembering how the woman coddled the pregnant Xiomara made her think it might be worth a try.

Lucia had known since her twelfth birthday what her destiny was. On that day, she'd unwrapped her red Vivanco's polo and worked her first shift. From seventh grade onwards, she'd practically been working full-time. No wonder she'd been a virgin until however many minutes ago. Given the unlikelihood of Daddy acknowledging a link between her bad grades and shift pattern, who knew when she might even have sex again. Why not go all the way while she had the chance?

Fearful she might come to her senses before Dr Aquino gave up the goods, Lucia frantically untucked her polo. She peeled the clingy shirt up and over a jaguar print bra. Fumbling in vein with the clasp, she ripped the gore instead. Her breasts unfurled as the garish undergarment fell away. Twenty unbearable seconds ensued; the discomfort of her flailing boobs compounded by doubts as to how quickly she could cover her gelatinous bust if the buzzer went. A loud slam and a sound like wood splintering finally broke the tension.

"Dr Aquino?" said Lucia quietly, lifting the front of her skirt. The Honduran was still very much inside her, but he was suddenly much more comfortable to straddle.

Curiosity trumping caution, the schoolgirl left her chest exposed as she dismounted. A quick feel between her legs confirmed the transfer of liquid assets. Bending down, she took his pilose balls in hand and squeezed. Not even a twitch. Narrowing her eyelids, Lucia pushed the unconscious teacher off his improvised bed of milk crates. The crate that'd been beneath his ass was completely caved in.

Breasts still bared, she hastily cleared the crates out from under the counter and rolled Dr Aquino onto his front. Squatting with one foot either side of his head, Lucia gathered the folds of her skirt and emptied her bladder. She'd always wondered if you could really revive someone simply by dousing them with water. Apparently not.

Nine months later...

Lunch hour at Zumárraga Prep. All was quiet on the school's fourth floor. Added to the original three-floor design by a rogue architect, the management still hadn't found a long-term use for the extra space. That wasn't to say others hadn't. Until a few months ago, there would've been a small but steady trickle of students venturing up here in search of illicit contraceptives. Unfortunately for the randy youths, the condom baron of Zumárraga Prep had since been expelled.

Lucia Vivanco had no regrets about breaking up his racket. If her family's stores couldn't sell them -- a bylaw restricted their sale to San Toribio's handful of pharmacies -- why should some prick who'd called her Saint Lucia for ten years? Vice Principal Tancredo hadn't asked why she'd been on the fourth floor herself. She'd been far enough into her second trimester to not be accused of being a customer. In the event, she'd been up there then for the same reason she was now.

Lucia was knelt precariously on a toilet seat lid, clinging to the cold porcelain cistern for dear life while a swarthy young Cuban's groin pounded against her bare backside. Jacinto wasn't normally this rough. Maybe all the finals prep had left him with extra tension to burn off. God knew the irregularity of their recent hookups had been getting to her.

Loathe as Lucia was to give Dr Gregorio Aquino credit for anything, she owed him for her boyfriend. As a student of the Telenovela School of Obstetrics, Jacinto had taken to shadowing her in the hallways when she first started showing, berating any kid who so much as bumped into her. To try and convince the eighteen-year-old schoolboy that pregnancy didn't turn women to glass, Lucia had cordially invited him up to this stall to fuck her senseless. They'd locked themselves in dozens of times since: usually during lunch, sometimes before the first bell, sometimes after the last, occasionally all of the above.

Lucia let out a sharp gasp as Jacinto appeared to find another gear. Unconstrained by a bra, her hormonally-augmented breasts swung pendulously beneath her drooping shirt as the crisp slap of skin striking skin bounced off the tiled walls. Her suspicions about his pent-up reserves were affirmed out by his orgasm's heavy yield. Semen rained down on the toilet seat lid between her knees as he withdrew.

"Shit! Sorry!" blurted Jacinto, hastily mopping up the spill with a fistful of tissues.

"Relax," cooed Lucia, pinning the swarthy Cuban against the stall door with her planetoidal buttocks as she climbed off the toilet. During the dismount, she dabbed a finger in a blob he'd missed and sucked it clean.

"Ready?" he asked, pulling up his pants. Like her, he'd gone commando in perpetuity.

"Almost," she replied, wiping away more overspill with a tissue. The whole point of them fucking right before their first final was to ensure they both entered that gymnasium in the best possible mood. Now, it seemed she'd be doing the exam sitting in a puddle of her boyfriend's cum. Oh well.

Five months later...

Sitting in the courtroom's gallery, Viridiana Perez flinched as the judge brought his gavel down. She reflexively grabbed the hand of Dr Gregorio Aquino, her chaperone on this solo field trip to San Toribio's courthouse. Realizing it wasn't the most auspicious way for a wannabe lawyer to react to that noise, the eighteen-year-old Dominican hastily withdrew her dainty ebony fingers.

Smoothing out a kink in her sky-blue polo, Viridiana placed her hands in the lap of her blue-and-black plaid skirt and sat up attentively as a lawyer started to speak. With no jury to address, the attorney stood immobile in front of the table where his client, a portly young woman with wavy black hair, sat shackled to her chair. A little surreally for Viridiana, the defendant was dressed the same as her.

The twelfth grader could only assume it was a tactic by her lawyer to remind the judge of the unique constellation of stresses Lucia Vivanco was under when she'd fatally stabbed her mother. The fact of who had put the canula in Mrs. Vivanco's neck wasn't open to question: Lucia had already pled guilty to that. The purpose of this long-awaited hearing, some four months on from the killing, was to determine if Lucia could claim to have been temporarily insane when it happened.

As her lawyer dutifully recounted, the girl had been in the early stages of labor at the time of the stabbing. Moreover, she'd arrived on the maternity ward straight from school, where her waters had broken less than halfway through an exam she'd nevertheless finished. Alas, Viridiana didn't like her odds: the victim's reference to having an adoption agency on speed dial if Lucia didn't pass her finals could've been as much a joke as threat.

An hour after the hearing adjourned, the Dominican was hunched over her laptop, trying to translate her predicted verdict into legalese. The physical strain of reaching for the keyboard was making the task harder than expected. So was Dr Aquino. At present, he was supporting her dangling hindquarters with his hands and gyrating pelvis while she squatted on the edge of a table in the middle of a wood-paneled conference room. Soundproofed to ensure the privacy of attorneys and their clients, her chaperone had paid a former student-turned-janitor $50 for the keys to it.

"That doesn't need to be finished today, Miss Perez," Dr Aquino chimed in from above.

Viridiana studiously typed on. He was here to fuck her, not help her relax. She would've expected the man who'd once knocked up twenty-four girls in a semester to be, well, colder. The process she'd gone through to reach this point had certainly fed that belief. Widespread incredulity over the theory one man had fathered all the kids born of that soccer team's pregnancy pact hadn't stopped the legend of The Baker becoming folklore among Zumárraga Prep seniors.

So named for his purported ability to put a bun in a girl's oven at the first attempt, it was said The Baker still walked the school's hallways. Moreover, it was said any girl old enough could signal their interest in his attentions by forsaking underwear on campus. Thus had the top drawer of Viridiana's dresser gone undisturbed for three weeks. After a series of texts with a mysterious intermediary, she'd been summoned to Dr Aquino's office yesterday and told about this field trip.

The Dominican's lawyerly aspirations were well-known to Zumárraga Prep's faculty. Alas, the same parents who'd driven her like a mule to become a straight-A student were shocked to discover she planned to do something with those grades. If they were so desperate for a grandchild, she'd give them one and they could raise the little bastard.

Going to press the laptop's Backspace key, Viridiana found it beyond the reach of her outstretched fingers. At the same time, she noticed her feet suddenly dangling above the table. She cried out as gravity ensured she landed heavily upon Dr Aquino's hilt. Anxious for more support than his six inches could provide, she looped her left arm around the back of his neck as she tried to wrap her calves around his outer thighs.

Hands cradling her lean thighs, Dr Aquino moved Viridiana steadily up and down his length. She gradually adjusted, seizing handfuls of his neck hair, her arched back pressed against his torso. In the middle of one such spasm, she heard a guttural grunt in her ear, right before he dropped her on the conference room's table.

"Damn it," she whined, getting up to see her laptop's screen bent backwards at an impossible angle. "What did you do that for?"

"Accidents happen, Miss Perez," said the Honduran as he fixed his slacks. His expression darkened when she climbed off the table, revealing the crushed computer. "Oh dear."

"Yeah," said Viridiana, retying her black ponytail.

An untimely knock on the locked door postponed a reckoning over liability for the broken computer. Teacher and student hurried back to the courtroom, filing into the back of the gallery as the judge spelled out his lengthy rationale for denying Lucia Vivanco's insanity defense. Viridiana's satisfaction at nailing her prediction was overpowered by her interest in the distant look on Dr Aquino's face as he watched the defendant being unshackled and led away.

"What's wrong?" she asked quietly, taking his right hand in both of hers.

"Unintended consequences, Miss Perez," he replied, extracting himself from her consolatory grip.

Viridiana kept her seat until Lucia was gone from the courtroom, under the misapprehension Dr Aquino had done the same. Turning to find an empty seat beside her, the Dominican scrambled to catch up with her chaperone, hugging her chest to lessen the inevitable jiggling. Seeing him stood by the elevator down the hallway, she let her breasts bounce free as she ran to intercept his arm reaching for the button.

"Wait up, doc," she said, forcing his right arm back down to his side. "We don't have to be back 'til 2pm, right? Haven't you got another $50 you can give that janitor?"

"Really, Miss Perez?"

"What if you missed when you dropped me?" said Viridiana, flattening her chest against the arm she was hugging. "I'm leaking loads."

Her last statement finally prompted Dr Aquino to glance down at the schoolgirl. Unlike most Zumárraga Prep girls, she wore her blue-and-black plaid skirt unaltered, scarcely an inch above her knee. Despite that, he could see a whitish bead creeping down the inside of her right ebony shin.

"Don't worry, Miss Perez. I never miss."