The Competition Begins (Ch. 02)

"No, no, no," cried Sam, not handling herself well. Her hands kept getting mixed up with Kyle's attempts to help.

Harumi appeared from nowhere, the side of her face a bright red. She slapped away Kyle's hands and helped Sam collect the edges of her dress.

"Let's go," Harumi said, urgently.

Sam didn't need to be told twice. Holding the tear closed, she ran for the side of the house. She heard Harumi's steps following her, along with laughing and catcalls from Miranda and her friends. Sam didn't stop running until she rounded the corner out of sight. Then, she slowed, stopping at the edge of the driveway. Tears began to flow.

"Those...assholes," she said to the long tear in her dress.

"Sam! Sam, wait!" Kyle appeared next to her, skidding to a halt after a sprint. He'd passed up Harumi, who didn't stop running until she stood between them. Even though Kyle had done nothing wrong Sam appreciated the protection.

Kyle put his hands out placatingly. "I'm so sorry. She's such a—. I didn't think she'd—." The normally unflappable Kyle was at a loss for words. He shook his head in frustration. "Here."

Kyle grabbed the hem of his polo and hauled the garment over his head. If Sam weren't so traumatized she might have appreciated the smooth way he disrobed. The trauma wasn't quite enough to keep her from appreciating his tanned and toned physique, prominent muscles bunching and moving beneath his skin as he freed his arms from his shirt.

"Put this on," he said, offering her the shirt. Sam just stared.

"Come on, you're cold. You can give it back to me next week," Kyle insisted, as if her hesitation had to do with the shirt and not with the superbly muscled swimmer's torso he'd put on display.

Harumi regained her senses first and snatched the article from Kyle. She opened the neck and placed the shirt over Sam's head like an Olympic medal, pulling the body down so Sam could let go of the dress and fit her arms.

"Thanks," said Sam between sniffles.

"It's nothing," said Kyle. "I'm sor—."

"We're going," Harumi interrupted, perhaps concerned that Kyle's astonishing physical beauty might change Sam's mind about leaving. She seized Sam's hand and pulled her toward the front of the house.

"I'm sorry," Kyle called.

They were halfway down the driveway when Harumi groaned, uttering a curse under her breath. Alec and Brittany were walking up the driveway...again. When Alec saw them his expression grew sheepish. Brittany, on the other hand, practically glowed with triumph. It took Sam only a second to realize why. The tall blonde's hair and clothes were disheveled; she normally looked so immaculate.

Harumi and Sam's state of disarray was even more noticeable. Alec's eyes widened as they neared, and he looked at Sam's attire in bewilderment.

"What happened to you?" Alec asked.

"Fucking Ballister bitches is what happened to us," Harumi growled. Sam stared anew at her friend; she had never witnessed this side of the usually placid Harumi.

"Did you get in a fight?" Alec said. He sounded impressed.

"We did," Harumi said, "and now we're leaving. C'mon Sam."

"Wow," Alec said, turning to watch them walk down the driveway. Sam looked over her shoulder at the man of her high school dreams. He didn't turn away, even when Brittany pulled on his arm.

Marco stepped alongside his half-naked friend. "That was a nice move."

"She was cold."

"Right."

Kyle looked at him sidelong. "Is there a problem?"

Marco considered for a moment. They'd played this game before. Most of the time he won, but sometimes a girl preferred Kyle. He'd usually considered that a good thing. A game was more fun if there was a chance of losing. But, it was strange—he didn't want to risk it this time. He could tell Kyle to back off. Would that work? It might do the opposite.

"No," Marco replied after a moment's consideration.

Kyle nodded. They watched as Sam and Harumi passed out of sight.

"Shit, now I'm cold. I'm gonna get another shirt. What a fucking shit show," Kyle grumbled as he trotted up the steps into the house.

"This is some sort of game, isn't it?"

Marco turned to find Miranda emerging unsteadily out of the darkness cast by the side of the house.

"You and Kyle compete to see who can fuck the ugly girl."

Marco smiled. Miranda took his expression for an affirmative and chuckled softly.

"Such naughty boys."

"And you're a naughty girl."

"Am I?" Miranda pouted. "Do you want to punish me, big man?"

Marco walked around her, eyes appraising. Her gaze followed him as she teetered from the effects of alcohol. Marco slipped back into the shadows before replying.

"Why don't you come over here and find out?"

Miranda tottered after him eagerly. She had always wanted to get on his dick but had played hard-to-get. Marco had never wanted to get her, but her time had come.

Marco stopped in the darkest spot. Miranda stepped into him and placed a hand on his chest. When he didn't respond, she exchanged her hand for her ample bosom.

"What do you want?" Marco asked softly.

"I wanna be yer slut," she said, syllables slurring together.

"Every girl wants to be my slut."

"I'll be the best."

Marco spun the swaying woman and pulled her back against the length of his body. He rolled his hips, pressing his hardening length into her back.

"Ohhh..." Miranda moaned.

"No, I'm the best." Marco squeezed her ample butt.

"Yes," she whimpered.

"What do you want?"

"You. Fuck, I want you so much."

"Why?"

"You're so fucking hot."

"That's the only reason?" Marco unzipped her dress and slid his hand slowly around her thigh and between her legs. She was already wet.

"I heard...oh shit."

Of course she'd heard. Marco had fucked half her friends. "Heard what?"

"I heard...god, I—. Ohhh..." Miranda moaned as Marco played with her pussy. She gushed over his fingers.

"Heard what?"

"You're good."

"And?"

"Fuck, I'm—. Big. You've got a—. Fuck!!" Miranda gripped the back of Marco's hand and rocked her hips.

"An easy slut," Marco said, using his free hand to tip her head back so he could watch her expression. "Cum for me."

"Ye—." Miranda's breath caught as she climaxed. She gazed at Marco with wide eyes, mouth working as she struggled to find her next breath. Her little gasping inhalations told Marco just how hard she was cumming.

"Now," Marco said with a sly smirk. Miranda's breath shifted into gasps. He deftly unbuttoned his pants with one hand and drew forth his cock. "What were you saying about big?"

Miranda moaned softly as Marco fitted his thickening length between her thighs. He slid his enormous cock back and forth, her juices coating the top of his dick.

"Oh fuck."

"You want it inside you?"

"Yes..."

"I'm going to punish your bad girl pussy. It's gonna hurt."

"Yes..." Miranda whimpered.

Marco snorted. He could have said anything; she was overwhelmed with lust, not to mention drink. He found her slot with the head of his cock and paused, enjoying her anticipatory shiver. Then, he pushed inside.

"Oh gawwwwwd!" Miranda squealed.

Marco drove his thick cock into her pussy. He didn't hurry. The powerful thrust slowly lifted Miranda onto her tiptoes, then out of her shoes. Once seated deep he gripped her waist and lifted her, coming to his full height.

"Oh my god!" Miranda cried.

Marco shoved a hand under her dress and seized one of her breasts, kneading the heavy handful of flesh. He lifted her off his dick for a second thrust, letting gravity force her back down.

"Fuuuuuuck!!!" Miranda wailed in shocked agony as the head of his dick spread her pussy wide.

She hadn't been listening. She'd never taken a cock as long and as thick.

"Oh, fuck fuck fuck. So fucking big!"

His third thrust made her cum. Miranda mewled and huffed through this one, clearly struggling as her pussy convulsed around his heavy shaft, body trembling in his grip.

"Such a bad, bad girl," Marco whispered into her ear. "You think I'm fucking you?"

"Unh!!" Miranda grunted as his cock rammed deep.

"I haven't really started," Marco said as he held Miranda in place and snapped his hips.

"Oh, shit!"

It was the first sensible comment she'd made.

Marco remodeled Miranda's pussy over the next several minutes. He held her off the ground by hip and breast and fucked her, feeling her pussy elongate and distend, desperately trying to accommodate his massive shaft as he rammed her full of hard cock over and over again.

"Oh! Oh god! Oh shit!" Miranda wailed between thrusts, growing louder, forgetting where they were. Marco switched his grip, wrapping one arm about her middle and clamping a hand over her mouth. He rutted her in short, jackhammering strokes. Then, he withdrew, spun her about, and lifted her against the side of the house. With one hand under her butt and the other still clamped over her jaw, he plowed into her again, fucking her into the siding.

"Hrrrmmmph!" Miranda moaned beneath his palm. Her eyes were wide with wonder and horror.

"C'mon, bad girl," Marco growled. "Cum for me again."

After a few choice thrusts, she did. With her eyes squeezed shut, Miranda's moans became deep and guttural. Her nails dug into his shirt. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes. As Marco pounded her through her orgasm, she shuddered. Her grip on his wide shoulders grew slack. Her pussy clenched tight, though, over and over, squeezing his cock as her orgasm continued.

"That's good," Marco said. "Now you're doing what I tell you."

The twin drugs of dominance and obedience caressed Marco's mind, and his cock grew painfully hard. With a hiss he withdrew and set Miranda on her feet. Her knees buckled and she sank into a heap against the wall.

"Right where I want you," Marco remarked through gritted teeth as he stroked his turgid cock.

With a growl, he came, cum spurting in long, thick strands to spatter on Miranda's face, in her hair, and down her disarranged dress. She reacted to the splattering goop, jerking. Her head rocked back in time to catch several more of Marco's well-aimed shots. He covered her upturned face in his cum.

"Oh god, oh god. Oh my fucking god," Miranda blubbered. Small aftershocks from her multiple orgasms had set her limbs trembling.

Marco stood over her for several moments, sucking breath while his cock softened. He winced as he tucked his dick away and zipped up.

"Was it good for you?" he asked, crouching before her.

Miranda nodded, face glistening. "I can't believe—. So...amazing. Three times. I just—." She broke off, sniffling and swallowing hard.

"Wasn't that great for me," Marco said, standing. "You're okay for a quick fuck by the side of a house."

Miranda gaped, finally struck speechless.

Marco stretched, smirking at her, and walked back to the bonfire.

***

"Are you sure you don't want to come to Minnesota?" Harumi asked as she guided the old Ford Taurus down the lane and away from the party house.

Sam sighed. The thought had crossed her mind. "I'm sorry. Tonight was a disaster."

"You got a new shirt."

"Not my best color."

"Would you like to wear him instead?"

"Harumi!"

"Well...he seemed to be trying to put you on."

"Please. That wasn't—."

"He had his arm around you like you were his girlfriend."

"I was cold."

"Convenient."

Sam exhaled. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean for any of that to happen."

"I don't care about the fight. I mean, it was shitty what they did, but I care more about what that guy wants with my friend."

"That was my first fight."

"Well, don't worry. There's room for improvement."

Sam laughed. "We did not do well."

"We should stick to math."

"You called her an ostrich!"

Harumi snorted. "She looked like one. A pink—"

"Big boobed."

"—bitchy ostrich. Right. I bet those boobs are fake."

"So fake. What am I going to do about my dress?"

"What are you—. A man ripped his shirt off for you. What are you going to do about that?"

"Give it back."

"Not the—. Now you're making me mad."

"He looked pretty good without it."

"That's for sure."

"Like, really good."

"You don't have to convince me. He's got a hot body. But do you like him?"

"I don't know. He seems...too perfect."

"Yeah, the perfect Ballister guy, too good and rich to be true. Remember that guy at the quarry last summer?"

The abandoned quarry near town was supposedly off-limits to visitors, but young people swarmed the place in the summers to test their courage cliff jumping. That, and to check each other out. Late in the summer near the start of classes Ballister College students always came by. The college groups took over the best spots; they also made it clear that the locals were not wanted.

"How could I forget."

"He was dreamy...and an asshole."

Sam couldn't remember much about the guy beyond how amazing he'd looked and how terrible he'd acted. Still, it wouldn't surprise her if one of Kyle's friends had been the one insulting her that day.

"I'm not convinced this whole thing isn't some kind of game."

"What, hitting on you?"

"No, the whole thing. Kyle, Marco, those women, this place," said Sam, gesturing to the Ballister campus grounds passing by the car window. "It's a game to them. They're all set. They don't have to try."

"You don't have to play. You shouldn't."

"Maybe I should drop the writing class."

"Do you need it?"

"Yeah, it fits my schedule."

"Your pre-med schedule."

"Yeah," Sam said, sighing again. Harumi knew she didn't have the flexibility to drop the class. "What do I do?"

Harumi chewed her bottom lip. "I think you should find some different people. There have to be people who care about the things you do."

Sam nodded, considering. She had to find her people. Where would they be?