The Hard Sciences Pt. 01

All parties portrayed and to be portrayed in this story arc are above 18.

*****

-Family Matters-

My dad was never around when I was growing up. I think I'm starting to understand why, but my mom never talked about it. I was always just left to wonder why I was the only kid in class who didn't have both parents during conference nights, or showing up to talent shows. I've also been the only black student here for as long as I remember, which is fairly long, as not to brag, but I'm pretty smart. Which is something that came with it's own challenges. Most people aren't blessed with being smart AND strong, myself included, which left me vulnerable to more than my fair share of bullying. Sometimes because I was a nerd, sometimes because I was black, sometimes both at once. I swore I would never let my race define me, but as I've finally reached my senior year and legally become an adult, my feelings have been changing in strange ways. I'll do my best to explain, but let me ease up a little to give you some better context.

I'm not much to look at, at least in terms of muscles. I'm tall enough at 5'10 and 135lbs, but I'm sort of lanky. I'm black (as I said) with short jet black hair which I've been trying to grow in to dreads to look cooler, though it really just makes my head look sort of bumpy. I wear broad black plastic glasses, and had braces not all that long ago too, so I was the quintessential nerd stereotype for a while there. I don't play sports, collect sneakers, or even listen to rap music, which might have even ostracized me from the black community if there had been one around here. I love the Lord of the Rings, Warhammer, anime, Final Fantasy games, the Persona Series, you name it... I even have little figures I paint sometimes that are currently at war on the dedicated diorama table in my room. While I don't share the same loves as a lot of my more socially capable classmates, I share one thing with the other guys my age, and that's a profound desire for pussy. A DEEP desire. Which primarily kicked off when I was 16, but has only gotten more intense over the last two years.

The reason why that matters, and why my race is starting to feel more like IT matters, is because of something that happened recently that has really opened my eyes to a whole other side of me.

-Cheesy Flashbacks-

I had been at my locker, swapping out a few notebooks for my next class when I saw her... Trisha Raymond... head cheerleader and absolute vision. She was wearing her actual cheerleading outfit for the game that was taking place that afternoon, and the frilly bi-colored hem only reached the middle of her thigh... her smooth, shaven, milky white thigh that led down across to her equally toned and impressive calves, only stopping at her pure white sneakers. I'll admit, I'm a bit of a leg and foot man, so getting a free show like this was enough to make me drool. Unfortunately, her thug jock boyfriend Donnie happened to notice my appreciative gazing, and decided he wanted to punish me for it (for whatever reason).

"The fuck you staring at, Byron?" Donnie said gruffly, drawing everyone's attention to me.

I was immediately overwhelmed, and tried to bury my face back in my locker to hide my embarrassment, but he wasn't about to let up.

"My girls legs giving you a little chubby over there..?" he said, enjoying the jeers and laughter of his friends, "Huh? Why don't you come over and take a better look, eh Blurkel?"

For the record, "Blurkel" was his brilliant mashup of "black" and "Urkel". Seeing that Steve Urkel WAS black, there was really no point in making the distinction, but I wasn't working with grade A intellect over here.

"No, no... I'm, I'm fine... sorry, I'm just... I'm just gonna go to class." I had said, practically mortified at having been called out for leering.

"Yeah, you better keep your eyes to yourself." Donnie threw on, deciding he had won.

"Like your family kept your genes to themselves." I said, louder than I had realized at the time.

"The fuck you say about my jeans!?" Donnie said, his lack of comprehension either from genuinely not hearing me, or pure idiocy, but he definitely looked down at his pants as he was speaking.

"Just leave him alone, Donnie." Trish said, her look more bored than anything, her grape bubblegum snapping loudly from the corner of her mouth.

Donnie was too driven by his need to intimidate and dominate me to listen, as I suppose he always felt like he something to prove. Suffice to say, he DIDN'T leave me alone, and I ended up furiously swatting at him in vain as he pinned me up against the lockers by my backpack. I did manage to clip his nose a little bit, which resulted in me taking a rather firm punch to the forehead, the predecessor to a headache that would stay with me for the remainder of the school day. Thankfully, discretion was NOT Donnie's strong suit, and we were quickly spotted by the assistant principal, Mr. Pugg. Unfortunately, modern school policy discourages ANY attempt at self defense, and I was quickly considered just as much at fault as my attacker. Absolute nonsense, but I was not in a position to argue. To make matters even worse, while we were both given an after school detention, Donnie was given a temporary reprieve as he was set to star in today's football game, which left me riding solo with the only staff member also uninterested in the football game, the art teacher, Ms. Pinchin.

Detention, especially my having gotten it, is total bullshit. But there was a silver lining to this particular cloud, as Ms. Pinchin was one of the younger staff members, with a dark brown pixie cut, light brown eyes, glasses, with a graceful neck and fit and trim body, not to mention a penchant for wearing sandals which gave me a perfectly lovely view of her bare toes. But there I sat, miserable, head aching, knowing full well I didn't deserve any of this. Ms. Pinchin had been sitting at her desk working on something, and I had been staring down somewhat boredly at the gap underneath of it, watching her feet bounce occasionally, or itch the other one, when something started to... I don't know, unwind in me. Like a tension was loosening, but at the same time I was starting to get really fucking horny. Not my first time riding THAT dragon, as I was still a teenage boy after all, but there was something more urgent here. I shifted at my desk, my dick getting uncomfortably hard and needing more room to expand out.

"You okay over there, Byron?" Ms. Pinchin said, noticing me shifting around in my chair.

"What? Oh, uh... yeah, I'm fine, just... got an itch." I said, not wanting to explain exactly what itch that was, and how she could scratch it.

She seemed to accept this, and shrugged somewhat, returning to her work for just a moment. Then, she decided to get up, turning around to start writing something on the board, stretching to write it starting at the top, my eyes shooting right down to her feet which were now flexed up as she stood on her tip toes, and it was like a dam was breaking... I needed to jerk off RIGHT NOW. I was trying to play it as cool as I could, massaging myself under the desk as I watched her, my eyes drifting up to her ass, which was being hugged nicely by her painters jeans. Then, because someone out there loves me, she dropped the dry erase marker and had to lean down to pick it up, thrusting her ass out absent mindedly as she did. I was in overdrive now, my heart racing, breath hot... I may as well have been in heat. That was when I seemingly lost control of myself, my mind going into a sort of flat blank state though I was fully conscious, and I slipped out the side of my desk and started walking up towards her. She had gotten back to writing, whereas I had reached into my pants and pulled out my dick, which I was now stroking directly behind her, my free hand reaching out and grabbing her shoulder which made her turn around.

"What... WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?" she cried out suddenly, looking down and seeing my already hard black dick being jerked exclusively for her.

"Get... get on your fucking knees." I said, my voice suddenly feeling full of adult authority.

"I... you shouldn't... okay." Ms. Pinchin said, and nervously, but obediently, did what I said.

I was both shocked and elated, and even though I felt like a passenger in my own body, I was here, this was happening, and it was a thing of beauty. My dick was directly in front of her face now, her eyes glancing up at me nervously and then jumping right back down to my cock.

"Open... open your mouth." I said again, almost hesitant, but feeling confident enough to follow through.

She didn't even hesitate, she opened her mouth sheepishly, craning her head back slightly though I hadn't asked her to do so. I wish I could tell you this was more like a porno, but in truth, I was an extremely horny teenager who had just been given a gift from the gods, and I was NOT going to be able to contain myself very much longer. Almost as if on cue, a hot burst of semen jetted out from my cock and into her open mouth, some of it hitting her face and splattering off as it hit hard. Then another, this one arching up over her face, glazing her glasses and getting into her hair, Ms. Pinchin letting out a squeak of surprise as it did. Another blast, this one running down her nose, fat white drops and blobs landing on her shirt and thighs as she knelt before me. It was my first time cumming on a woman, (though it was far from my last), and the fact that it was one my of teachers made me feel like a fucking legend. Even though I had already bust, I was still jerking myself slowly in front of her, watching her shocked looked as she took off her glasses, glancing down at the sheer volume of spunk hanging from them, before glancing up at me.

"Holy fuck, that was fucking HUGE." she said, a coy smile breaking out of her cum drenched face.

"Oh, uh... yeah?" I said, the urge starting to subside now.

She didn't answer, instead she just brought her glasses up closer to her face as if she was going to inspect them, and started licking my cum off of them... swiping her finger across her face and sucking it off with a satisfying smack. She was smearing it, but she still got a substantial amount in her mouth before craning her head back to give me a better look, her tongue drowning in my white hot seed, and then she swallowed all of it, letting out a satisfied "ahhh" when she was done.

"This can be our little secret, okay?" she said, smiling proudly, and looking up at me.

"Oh, sure, of course." I said, not knowing what had just happened.

She giggled and extended her hand for me to help her up, which I did, and she simply went and got some tissues for her face, cleaning off and dabbing the corners of her eyes before inspecting her clothes. I was completely flabbergasted, watching her as if she was some sort of alien who had replaced my teacher, when suddenly a buzzer went off, letting us both know detention was over. She turned to me and gave a saucy sort of pout before turning back into a smile, and simply said:

"See you in class tomorrow."

-Homework-

I went straight home, practically running that day. I closed myself in my room and threw my back to the door, suddenly feeling like I was able to breath again, the whole thing feeling utterly surreal.

"Did that... did that all really happen?" I couldn't help but say out loud, as if somehow an answer could have come from somewhere to affirm it.

I paced. I contemplated. I pondered even, but while it felt like it didn't make any sense, it had definitely happened. That's when I went into a whole different head space, one I like to call "party mode", where I couldn't help but smile, jumping up and down triumphantly, pumping my fists, and actually laughing. I wasn't just a man, I WAS the FUCKING man. My mind was racing with possibilities now, wondering if we would do it again, if I should look her up on Meta, or Insta, or any of that bullshit. Did she want to date me? Was this just about sex? Why wasn't she here RIGHT NOW!? Holy shit, I was riding a serious high in that moment. I decided, perhaps against better judgment that I was going to look her up on the school's META page, see if she had a personal profile attached to it. I scrolled through all the "likes" and "followers" and finally, there she was... posing for her profile picture with some guy.

"Who... who the heck are you?" I wondered out loud.

A brother? A friend? A BOY-friend..? My heart was still racing, but this was starting to feel like a road block I hadn't been expecting. Just then I was hit by something ELSE I wasn't expecting, a chime from my messenger, showing a new message from...

"Trish?" I said, reeling back slightly in surprise.

I expanded the chat, and read her message, responding along in kind:

Trish: Hey Byron, I'm sorry about earlier today.

Me: Oh, it's alright, YOU didn't do anything.

Trish: I know, but it wasn't fair what he did, or that you got in trouble.

Me: Yeah, well, I guess I'm used to that sort of thing by now.

Trish: Look, there's something I wanted to ask you about...

Dot dot dot... man, I was suddenly nervous as hell that she was going to follow that up with "I hear you jerked off in the art teachers mouth today." or even more hopeful that she might add, "...and I want you to jerk off in mine next." but instead, she simply said:

Trish: I've been way behind on my senior project, and I was hoping maybe you could help me with it. You've got all these honor society awards and stuff, and I'll bet you already finished yours, didn't you?

She wasn't wrong, I HAD finished it. Almost immediately.

Me: Yeah, I did. What kind of help are you talking about?

Trish: Do you think we could meet up and talk?

I wasn't about to say no, even though I had a strong suspicion about where this was going. It wasn't the first time I'd been paid to do someone else's work and then brushed off like a piece of lint. Still, this was Trish, head cheerleader, and star of my daytime fantasies.

Me: Sure, do you want to just come to my house?

Trish: Okay. Where do you live?

I told her, and it wasn't too much long after, that her cute little sedan that her dad had paid for pulled up on the street outside my house. My mom wasn't home, she worked a lot to make sure we were able to stay in such a nice home in a clean and safe neighborhood free from most crime. I met her at the door where she greeted me with a smile, and ushered her into the living room, looking out the door for a moment before closing it to make sure she hadn't been followed by her juggernaut boyfriend who had come to finish me off.

"Should I... can I just sit wherever?" Trish asked, looking at the sectional couch with the extended lounge my mom had wanted SO bad for company... that we never got.

"Yeah, sure." I said somewhat sheepishly, as even here in my own home I was feeling overwhelmed and intimidated by this strawberry blonde vision of perfection as she sat back on the lounge, her palms supporting her.

"So look, I... I haven't really even started yet, and there's no way I'm going to get it done in time, especially with my activity schedule." she said, sort of blurting it out, "and I was really hoping you could maybe do it... for me?

There it was. Exactly as expected. Pretty girls know the power they have over people, and she was using it perfectly to her advantage.

"I can pay you, if you want." she said, fishing into her puffy grey sweatpants and pulling out what looked like about $60 in twenties, and a mix of $5's and $1's, "Please, for me?"

This payout was laughable. She was asking for dozens of hours of research and work for what might be the cost of a single video game, but she made sure to throw in the "for me" angle to tug at my hormone driven heart strings. I paused, I wanted to do it for her, I really did. I know that sounds pathetic, but I really wanted to make her happy, to make her like me, even if it meant playing the fool. But then I felt it again, the sensation washing over me, removing me from myself, like I was watching myself in the third person.

"No." I said flatly.

"No..?" she said, her turn to be sheepish now, as she had NOT been expecting that.

"Your money isn't good enough." I said again, my expression stern, my arms crossing.

"I could, I could maybe get you some more, I just didn't have it on me..." she said, looking over the wad in her hand before turning her eyes back up to me as I stood.

I stood silent for just a moment, looking her over, and then, bold demands came out of me again.

"Take off your shoes."

"My shoes..?" she said, looking down at her sneakers.

"Socks too. Do it." I said, gesturing with my head.

She looked confused, but leaned down and did as I asked. Laces undone, ankle socks peeled back and set aside, I looked down at her perfect, petite white feet with their baby pink nail polish and felt my dick getting hard in my pants, a certain smug satisfaction taking over me.

"Now lay back." I said, stepping closer to her front.

"Why..? What are you doing?" she said, her voice curious and meek.

"You're going to give me a foot job." I said, already reaching into my pants.

"A foot... footjob?" she said, either unaware of what that meant, or just shocked.

"You are going to JERK my COCK, WITH your FEET, UNTIL I CUM." I said, pulling my recently described as "huge" cock out, proudly pointing it at her, "THEN we discuss a better offer."

She looked stunned, shocked and a little struck as she locked her dazzling hazel eyes on my dark brown dick, but then she finally spoke again.

"Wait, this.. this isn't right." she said, shifting slightly, "Let me get my pants off."

And off they came. A crumpled grey pile on the floor next to the couch, her beautiful bare legs visible all the way up to her pretty pink panties. She raised her legs for me a little bit, and I helped guide her feet to either side of my cock, her toes wrapping slightly up either side as she watched on with wide eyed amusement, biting her lower lip. Then she started to pump, slowly at first, just getting her bearings on the whole concept. As for me, I tilted my head back and just relished the pure pleasure of it all. From the physical sensation, all the way down to the knowledge of what I was doing and to who. I stepped in closer, making the job easier for her, grabbing her feet with my own hands and working myself more firmly. Feeling the ribbed sensation of her white toes riding up and down over the head of my fat black dick. It was pure bliss, and once again, as a teenage boy, it wasn't going to last much longer than a few minutes.

"Oh fuck, here it... I'm gonna fucking cum..." I announced, gripping myself to finish the job.

Trish lowered her right foot and started massaging my balls with her toes, the left one still waiting in front of me. She must have recognized my tension as she quickly brought both her feet together and I completely exploded all over them. Hot cum being forced between her toes, landing all over her soles, and a particularly hard burst landing all over her legs. She didn't say a word, just watching with a look of aroused amusement as my balls emptied themselves out and on to her exposed flesh.

"Oh fuck... holy fuck... oh, that... holy fuck." I managed to stammer, not sounding my best, but not caring at the moment.

"Holy shit that was a lot." she giggled, seemingly impressed by the sheer volume of semen coming out of me, "I guess I'm not surprised." she added, a comment clearly about my size.

I was flattered of course, but not really able to respond with any sort of appreciative wit. Everything felt so surreal to me, so foreign, but so... wonderful. I thought about what had transpired earlier today, not with Ms. Pinchin (though that was great), but with Donnie, how he had tried to shame and humiliate me in front of everyone for daring to admire Trish, and now here she was with her pants off, and her toes smothered in my fucking cum. It felt right. It felt just. It felt like revenge, and I wanted more of it.