You Know That Nightmare?

Fuck.

I stood a moment, indecisive. This was a nightmare. I liked my body, and I didn't mind showing it off; between sex and photos, there had to have been dozens of people at Seaborne High who'd seen me naked. But this? This was different. As I tried to decide what to do, I wondered vaguely where my hands should go; it seemed like I should use them for something.

So, as I crept down the stairs, I had my forearm across my boobs and my hand covering my vagina. Not five minutes ago, there'd been a penis in there; ah, the rich ironies of life. My butt squeaked slightly as it smeared along the bannister, me walking sideways with my pocketbook hanging next to my tit and the sock uselessly flapping in front of my pussy. I rolled my eyes despite myself. If Melissa could see me now; I'd get banned from the Prom even if I brought Gandhi as my date.

Hell, the way this past week had gone? She was probably choosing today to use this stairwell for the first time ever.

Suddenly, I remembered my phone. Shit! I could phone a friend. My sense of relief washed over me; trembling, my hand headed into my pocketbook for my phone, only to find nothing at all.

Mother bitch. Jason still had my phone in his pocket.

Shivering, I thought desperately about what to do. I had to get moving. Around the landing, down the next flight, I strained to hear anything coming. But it sounded like the coast was clear. I knew I could sneak into the boiler room at the bottom of the stairs, but I had another problem: Jason had stirred things up, and now I needed to piss badly.

Hell, I decided. This was the back stairwell. I'd seen three cigarette butts and a used syringe on the stairs already. So, with only the slightest hesitation, I hiked my ass over the railing and let it rain down below.

Jesus, this was squalid. This was a new low, even for me. The piss landed far below, safely out of anyone's path, in a part of the building that probably hadn't been cleaned since it was built. I doubted anyone would ever care. Besides, judging from the smell, I wasn't the first person who'd urinated back here.

So I felt relieved, lighter, as I darted down the last flight of stairs and saw, at last, the paint-chipped steel doors leading to the boiler room down on my right. The locker rooms were right across, and there was always cast-off clothing in there, but they kept that whole area locked during the day. Of course I tried the door anyway, but no dice, and the slap of my bare feet was loud on the linoleum as I made it to the boiler room door and burst through like I'd been shot out of a cannon.

The two janitors inside were not expecting me.

I knew one of them, Matt, the younger one; a lot of us did. Tall, sort of rugged-looking, dressed in one of those one-piece mechanic's coveralls, he was somebody's older cousin, maybe the sophomore class president or someone; I wasn't sure. But he'd graduated, oh, five years ago? We knew him because he'd maintained his drug contacts in each succeeding class, and his prices were usually pretty reasonable. I'm not into drugs very much, but I do smoke an occasional bowl with Beth, and I knew he was where she got a lot of her shit.

We also knew him because he was fucking hot, and most of the girls in the building thought about him when they masturbated.

The other guy was his boss, who we all called Mr Nubitsky. He was a fat drunk, very unpleasant, who always carried an old Gatorade bottle half-full of tobacco spit. He, too, was known to the girls in the building; they spent time in the bathrooms talking about the perverted old janitor guy who stared at their boobs. He was most definitely staring at mine now, that was for damn sure. He gave off a faint whiff of failure, mixed with disappointment, with a dash of sex offender thrown in for good measure, and if he was creepy on a normal school day... well, let's just say that standing in front of him wearing nothing but a sock was not how I might have chosen to spend my day.

So, yeah. I heard the hiss of the hydraulics on the fire door behind me, making sure it shut; I heard the deep, final ch-klang as it shut; I heard the ticking of the clock on the far wall; and then I heard a long, incredulous sigh from one of the janitors. I'm sure my eyes went very wide, and I'm quite sure my whole body went scarlet from top to toe. Thank God I'd relieved myself over the edge of the stairs; otherwise, I'd be pissing myself right there in front of them.

The clock kept on ticking.

"Well." That was Mr Nubitsky. He looked me up and down out of his piggish, pale eyes, openly unable to believe what was happening. He undoubtedly thought he was hallucinating. "Who are you?"

"Uh." I looked over to Matt, who was staring hard at my crotch. The fuck was I supposed to do now? Other than get raped, I mean. "Uh. Hi, Mr Nubitsky, and Mr... Matt. I'm really sorry I bothered you." I swallowed, the two of them still staring, and tried again. "Um, are there any clothes around? Like, or maybe a towel, a blanket... anything?"

The two of them looked at each other, then around at the rest of the room, then back to me, their gazes oddly synchronized. "Is this some kind of joke?" Mt Nubitsky demanded. His voice was old and wheezy.

I forced a smile. "Well, no; funny thing, kind of. I was, you know, caught in the hall outside class... The bathroom... Yeah." I'd realized about halfway along that talking myself out of this wasn't going to happen. "Look, guys, could you please just find me something I can put on? Please?" I heard urgency in my voice, and I knew where it came from; Matt was smiling now, his eyes narrowing, and I knew what that look meant. I'd seen it before. It was a dangerous look, the kind that got me going, and I'm never far from getting going.

The fingers covering my pussy were already greasy. I had a flash image, a memory of my friend Gia telling me she'd seen Matt peeing once, and although I didn't remember the circumstances under which she said she'd seen this, she had definite opinions about how it had made her feel. Christ, what kind of freak was I? I was getting turned on. "So, no blanket?" I asked hopefully.

Nubitsky was smiling now too, and his was a lot creepier than Matt's. He looked over at the younger man. "Well shit, Matt. Do you know what this is all about?"

"Nope." He looked at me smugly, nodding once. "You hang around with Liz Sheely, right?" Beth called herself Liz when she was talking to adults.

"Yes!" I clung to his words like they were a lifeboat. "Liz! She's a good friend of mine, like, my best friend. You know her? Can you call her, get her down here?" She'd help me out.

Matt veiled his gaze at once. "Why would I have Liz' number?" He sounded guarded, his eyes flipping toward Nubitsky.

"Because... I mean, aren't you her dealer?" I blurted.

"No." Matt was looking hostile now, nodding sideways at Mr Nubitsky, and I began to get the message. "I have no idea what you're talking about. Frank," he said to Mr Nubitsky, who was actually putting his hand down his pants right in front of me, "I'm going to get her to the nurse. Mind going and grabbing one of those towels back there?"

"Hell fuck yes, I mind," Nubitsky snapped. "Get it yourself." He had moved to his left just a tad, craning sideways, staring straight at my bare ass. "I'm busy," he muttered, smiling insanely, and Matt sighed.

"I'll be right back," he told me, and then he disappeared, and I just stood there like a sex doll.

"It's okay," Nubitsky was saying softly. "You can move your hands, there, just a little..." I scowled at him and turned so that he couldn't see my butt anymore, which just made him move further, which made me turn more, and that's why Matt was staring at my back when he reappeared.

"Here," he said quietly. Thank God. The towel was ratty as fuck, covered with a thousand different stains and evidently unwashed since maybe 1987. "It's all I could find on short notice."

"Oh, thanks so much!" I gushed, and there was no choice; I had to move my hands to get the towel wrapped around me, shower-style. It went no further than the base of my buttcheeks. Nubitsky snickered as he got his peek at my vag, of course. "I'll wash it and bring it back tomorrow. Thanks!" I needed to get out of there, obviously, and I was hoping I could do so alone, but Matt had other plans.

"I'll get you to the nurse," he told me forcefully. Part of me didn't like that tone; a larger part of me, the part that was always seeking cock, the one who'd gotten just a little turned on by sex with Jason and then getting chased up the stairs, the part that thought Matt was a hottie... that part sent a short, sharp spasm down into the top of my pussy and made my ears buzz, just a little.

"Uh, okay," I replied meekly. Matt nodded.

"Frank?" He jerked his head to the side. "Why don't you take a break? Like, head into the office or something?" Nubitsky was the boss, but he was also not all that smart, and Matt's tone was telling Nubitsky something, too. "There's some blunts and shit back there; why don't you calm your nerves a little? It's been a weird day, huh?"

"No shit. That's a good idea, Matt." He was looking straight through the towel. "Well, you take it easy," he wheezed at me, and then he was backing toward the office, still with his hand down his pants. We watched him go, and then I looked over at Matt.

"Thanks for the towel," I told him softly. He was staring hard into my eyes, and I knew. We waited a beat, the shuffling noise of Mr Nubitsky fading at last as a door closed back behind the boilers, and then we were alone. I was calming down, slowly regaining control of myself. "We're not going to the nurse, are we?"

He shrugged. "You want to?" I just watched him, my hand holding the towel together next to my breast. Quite unexpectedly, my nipples started aching. "I wish I could have sent him away sooner."

"Thanks for that," I said, and I meant it; there'd been a lot of disturbing shit in his old eyes. "Has he been drinking?"

"Frank? No. Well, maybe, but mostly he's just high, and stupid. He'll bust a nut, then he'll pass out until the next bell rings." He was eyeing me again. "I wanted to get him away," he went on, "before you opened your big fucking mouth again. What's up with that shit? You don't come up to a guy and talk about his drug deals, you fuckwit."

"I know, I know." My voice was stronger now. I felt safer. "Sorry. I deal a little myself."

"I know. Oxys. You're Amy Longstadt's sister." He gestured to the side, behind the boilers, away from where Mr Nubitsky had gone. "Come on back, we'll talk. There's a couch back there."

"A couch?" And there it was, The Flirt, that mystical mode I snapped into whenever I was around a man and felt confident. And now, with safety came confidence. I felt it click into my brain with a weird sense of power, felt my mouth curl into a knowing grin, felt my eyes narrow. "It's not every day a man invites me to share a couch," I winked, and if Matt was surprised at the change in me, he didn't show it. He shrugged.

"It's not every day a smoking-hot chick comes into my boiler room naked," he pointed out. "What can I say? It's a weird day." He smiled then, a quick, thin smile, showing truly hideous teeth. "Come on back. What's your name?"

"Heidi." My bare feet slapped on the concrete, and I was not surprised when he laid his hand on my back.

"Heidi. You want to sell for me, Heidi? I'm looking to take on an employee."

"That's sweet, but no." I was feeling very sure of myself now. "I'm a senior, Matt. I'm out of here in six weeks."

"No shit. Unless I march you to the principal's office and turn you in for running around nude."

"True enough." A tiny little dark cloud of doubt came to me then; by now, Mr Bourne had my dress, underwear, and shoes, and if he really wanted to he could track me down. "You wouldn't do that, would you?" and the buzzing in my ears grew. This was a sexy man, and the situation had me horny as fuck. Christ, the trouble my sex drive got me into! Or out of, at times. "It's nice of you to, you know, take care of me."

"Well, I'm a nice guy," and his nasty-ass teeth flashed back. We passed into a weird little maze of workrooms, lockers, and moldy desks; it seemed like every wall had a nude chick on a poster or a calendar. Dust was everywhere; faintly I heard Steely Dan playing in another room. "A senior, huh?" He gestured toward a low, overstuffed couch in a forgotten corner. "So, like, you're eighteen?"

I smiled. "Aren't we all?"

"I'm just making conversation," he said easily, but I felt the pressure of his hand on my back and I knew the game was on. The Flirt took over.

I nodded toward a centerfold on the wall. "She's pretty hot," I observed. She wasn't, but it didn't matter; any picture of any woman would do, because The Flirt was in charge now. I was giving him an opening, testing to see what he'd do.

He passed the test. "She's not the hottest girl I've seen today."

Score! I was about to get some from Matt the Janitor; I'd be a hero in the girls' restroom, a legend. I grinned and lowered my hand, the one holding the towel up, and it fell to the floor in a puff of dust. Slowly, I turned to face him, my hands at my side, completely exposed to my second guy of the day, watching his face as he stared at my nude body. "Oopsy," I murmured. "The towel slipped."

"Yeah, that's a bummer." He glanced down at the filthy towel. "You're going to mess the whole place up."

"Well." I turned and bent forward at the waist, loving every second of this now, all the anxiety of the day now snowballing into exhilaration. I wasn't quite aiming my ass directly at Matt, but he could certainly see enough of it. I knew there'd be a smear of my own lube on my thighs already; it never takes me long. "Should I pick it up? Or is that, you know, the janitor's job?"

"Oh, allow me." He was grinning like a hungry wolf, coming closer now, so I straightened up as he crouched down. "These irresponsible students, just dropping their crap all over the place..." He was down there at just the right height that he could look straight across at my pussy and up at my tits, now on fire; he'd be smelling me.

"I know, right?" The Flirt was in full swing, but then how could it not be? I was naked and ripe and horny, and he was going to fuck me. "So irresponsible, kids these days; we always make such bad decisions," and then I took a step forward, my pussy just an inch away from his heavy-lidded face, and his arm grabbed me across my ass and, just like that, his nose was on my clit.

I gasped; Matt's arm was powerful, strong like Dave's, gripping me with a force that crushed me against his face. I had my leg moving already, swinging my foot up and around to drape over his shoulder, and I leaned back as far against his arm as I dared. This opened me up to a brutal, nasty tongue-fuck from Matt, who now seemed quite capable of believing his incredible luck today. "Oh, yeah!" I said in that whispery, shivering gasp I blurt out with when I'm really into it. He was not as gifted as Jason, I decided at once, but he was strong and eager and horny as shit, and I'd been gift-wrapped to him on a silver platter.

I'd be the greatest event of his life, no question.

He dug into me, making up in enthusiasm what he lacked in technique; he simply did not stop, going from tongue-lashing to clit-nibbling to labia-sucking with no rest, no transition, and no problem. Vaguely, around the time I gripped the back of his head, I became aware of a shape in the doorway as Mr Nubitsky came to see what all the fuss was about; I couldn't possibly have cared less that he was there, even though his hand was back down his pants.

Quite a Tuesday.

I was humping Matt's face by now, driving him back; I tend to get energetic when a man is eating me out, and Matt seemed like he could take it. His stubble dug deeply into my thighs, but I didn't even care about the inevitable rash. He had an extraordinary tongue, really more like a skinny penis, and even though he was no expert with it, he at least knew enough to try new things until I started to respond. And then, crucially, he knew the magic rule of cunnilingis: once you find what works, keep doing it.

So at least I came a little, riding his face without shame, my tits flying all over the place. God, he was strong; he was holding all my weight in the hands he had under my ass by that time, and he seemed not to even notice my thrashing. I dug my heel into his back. "Get it out, Matt," I urged, low and venomous. "Give me that dick."

"Dude." He had a strange manner, a mix of frat boy, stoner, and armed robber. It was wildly sexy. I'd left his lower face a slippery, glimmering mess. "What dick? This dick?" He reached down and jacked himself through the coveralls, but I was ahead of him with two fingers squishing in and out of my slit. He stared at me, his adam's apple working, in the dusty light from the one high window. "You sure you can handle it?" he snickered.

"Try me," I said, hoarse and vicious; neither of us paid any attention to Mr Nubistsky, whose pants were drooping down toward his knees. I used my unoccupied hand to reach boldly out for Matt's zipper, which I whisked down with perhaps a little too much force. He staggered. "I've seen it all before, Matt."

"No shit?" He had a weird, growling note to his voice and a scary glitter in his dark eyes. A hairy chest was emerging into the dim light from his undone coveralls, with the waistband of a pair of dark grey boxer briefs below. He was shrugging his sleeves off when I, crazed with lust, stepped up to him and began smearing my body across his, all the while licking myself frantically off his chin.

I don't taste very good, but few things get me going more than lapping my pussy off a man. It's the ultimate turn-on for me, not that I needed any help. His hands shook themselves free of his sleeves just in time to make an appointment with my tits, smashing them between his fingers; I gasped. My nipples were burning for him.

"Mmm," I grunted as my lips at last found his, and I got his tongue between my teeth just as his clothes slouched to the floor. He tasted like cigarettes. I devoured him for ten seconds or so, saliva making its way down both our necks, before he backed off so that he could gnaw on my neck. "Thanks for the towel," I murmured; I was looking down a perfect male back, lumped with muscle and dusky with tattoos. Shit. This guy was all man; I knew he'd fuck me rough. He was kneading my boobs like they were water balloons, and his erection was jabbing insistently against my belly. "It was really nice of you."

"Don't mention it." It came hot and moist into my ear. "Frank was about to cum in his pants."

I stirred and looked once more toward the door, where the dirty old man was whacking his dick openly, his eyes wide and staring. I didn't bother to whisper. "He's watching us right now," I tittered.

"Of course he is." Matt could not possibly have cared less. "This is the most fun he's had in like twenty years." I wasn't ready when, without any hint of tenderness or respect, Matt threw me across the room to the couch. I landed with a squeal, his aim excellent, my slicked thighs waving in the air, and by the time I had myself sorted out he had kicked off his boots, stepped out of his coveralls, and loomed above me like a lean, tattooed god.

I sighed in pleasure and stretched myself out across the shitty cushions, my legs spread up on the back of the couch. My pussy gaped wide for him. "Wanna fuck me?" I demanded hotly.

"Yes," he said simply, his boxer-briefs already making their trip down his sinewy legs. I looked at his dick and my eyes went wide in pleasure; above and below his long, skinny shaft, pulsing in the dust, he was totally hairless.