Zoe's Hot Girl Summer Ch. 02

All characters in this story are 18+, including those in high school or graduating.

CHAPTER 2. The Break Up

Zoe has break up slash car sex.

Zoe scans the lunch crowd, her gaze landing on the bright red Jansport and tall silhouette she'd know anywhere.

"Sorry!" She apologizes, shuffling through throngs of hungry classmates. She grabs a fistful of the red canvas and yanks hard.

"What the fuck--? Oh, hey. What's up?"

Grant gives the teammates he was chatting with a wave and that nod thing guys do. "I think you dislocated my shoulder," he starts adjusting his backpack and rubbing his shoulder dramatically but Zoe just grabs his wrist, tugging him along. "Geez, what's the rush? You know the food's not going anywhere, right?"

"I need to talk to you." Zoe says in a hushed voice. "Can we eat in the choir room?"

Grant's eyes narrow with confusion, but he can't hide his intrigue. "Okay, yeah."

After getting some food, the two friends sit on the floor of an empty practice room tucked in the back of the band hallway. It's small with floor-to-ceiling cinder block walls and scuffed linoleum floors. They hadn't bothered to drag any chairs in, so Grant sprawled across the ground using his backpack as a headrest, legs crossed at the ankle.

He unceremoniously rips open a bag of pretzels and unwraps his sandwich, digging in. He looks at Zoe and raises his eyebrows, expectantly.

"Alright, I really needed to talk to someone about this," Zoe says conspiratorially. "But Grant. Seriously. You can't tell anybody. And I mean it."

"Shit, okay. Are you pregnant?"

Zoe coughs. "What--?"

"Well...are you?"

"No!"

"Okay, geez!" He laughs, throwing up a hand in surrender. "I mean, good. I'm way too hot and young to be the fun uncle yet."

And just like that, Zoe relaxes a bit. She rolls her eyes. "Fuck off."

Grant laughs through a mouthful of food. "Okay, but, what were you gonna say?"

Right.

"I think I cheated on Sam."

Grant sits up, eyes wide. "No shit. With who?"

Zoe picks at her nails - a nervous habit she'd broken years ago, but which sometimes resurfaces when she's anxious.

"Dude...with who?"

"It's 'with whom.'" Zoe deflects, obnoxiously.

"Just tell me."

"You can't be mad."

At this point, Grant's staring at her so seriously that Zoe can't tell if he's joking or not. She's never seen him serious for longer than like, ten minutes. And even then, it was when his grandmother died. And he still cracked a lame joke moments later, to ease the tension.

"Sam," she answers, her voice small.

"Huh?" Grant leans forward, not having heard her. "Who?"

"Sam!" She covers her face with her hands. "Sam, your Sam."

Silence.

And then--Grant throws his head back and laughs.

Zoe's head shoots up. He's really laughing at her. She crumples up her plastic water bottle and lobs it at his head.

"What?" he chuckles. "Holy shit. Look, I know he's at school. So either you're joking or you were like, an e-girl. For my brother. That shit's funny."

"You're such an ass."

"Did it feel good when he sent you all those 1s and 0s?"

"Shut up," Zoe whines. "First of all, we didn't sext. We had phone sex." Grant's eyes widen. "And secondly, this is serious, okay? I feel guilty. I still basically cheated."

"'Basically cheated.' Okay wait. Walk me through what happened."

So, she tells him. The whole thing. Except for the part where she was wearing his hoodie and kind of got off smelling his cologne. And the part where she very very briefly thought about him.

"You slut," Grant teases. "Tart. Wench. Harlot. Where's your scarlet letter? You know, I always knew us McCall boys were irresistible but this is really--"

"Granttttt," Zoe slumps against the wall. "What do I do? Tell me what to do."

"Okay, okay." He chews thoughtfully. "Well, first off. I hate to break it to you...but you do know the chances of my brother actually wanting to date you are, like, pretty low. Right?"

She did know. He was cool and older and in college out of state. It still sucked to hear, though. "Yeah."

"Well, then. I don't know, it's your senior year," Grant shrugs. "I say, break up with Boyfriend Sam and then just chill. You guys literally never see each other and you're gonna be off to college soon anyway. And if you're thinking about other guys, no shade, but if you are...don't lead him on, you know?"

"So...tell him what happened?"

"I think I would."

Screw Grant and his good advice.

Zoe sighs. "Yeah, you're right."

"Cool," Like nothing even happened, Grant pulls out his phone and shrugs. "And if you wind up needing a prom date, I'll just take you."

-

Zoe dropped a Friday night shift for this. She's trying not to think about all the tips she's losing out on from the weekend rush. She'd almost wanted to just shoot Sam a text - "hey, lol! let's break up" - but she knew it'd be a giant dick move.

So now, here she is.

Waiting outside the boy's locker room, in a high school she doesn't even go to, to see her boyfriend for the first time in weeks - all just to tell him hasta la vista. You'd think she'd have a plan, a script. But she stupidly decided to just wing it. He's gonna hate her anyway, right?

The door to the locker room swings open, startling her, and Sam emerges. He looks good. Fuck. This is going to suck.

Sam's fit in the way soccer and cross country guys are. At 5'9" he's on the taller side, especially considering he's Chinese - not that Zoe's ever cared all that much about height. It was how funny and friendly and effortlessly flirty he was that had reeled her in.

"Hey you," Sam smiles down at her, looking a little confused but pleased. His hair's still wet and a little spiky, and he has that vague gym / soap / deodorant smell that plagues student athletes. "Shit, did I miss--?"

He fumbles with his jacket pocket for his phone, but Zoe waves it off.

"I texted but also figured you probably wouldn't see it," she explains. "Seriously, don't worry about it."

She keeps getting distracted by the locker room door swinging open, guys filtering out seemingly every ten seconds. A few pat Sam on the shoulder or back. Some whistle or nudge him suggestively when they see Zoe, but Sam just shakes his head and chuckles good-naturedly.

They walk out of the building and toward his truck - a Ford F100 from sometime in the 70s. Sam worked on it himself one summer and he taught Zoe how to change its oil. Zoe's friends used to tease her for being into a "car guy" but she didn't care. She honestly thought it was really hot how much he knew - plus, seeing him all greasy was an unexpected turn on.

She tries not to think about all the late night drives and hookups they've had in the truck. Or that one time she successfully managed to give him road head.

"Hey, it's our song," Sam joked, as Zoe turned the radio dial and filled his truck with loud, staticy noise.

She smiled at his lame joke and swooned when he reached over and put his hand on her thigh. She normally hated the trope of guys who flirt behind the wheel - she's a very 10 and 2 type of driver. But Sam didn't do stupid things. He always used his turn signals and didn't turn on red unless it was completely safe, even if there was some asshole behind him. He was a good driver.

So good, in fact, that she suddenly got an idea.

Zoe glanced at her phone. 10:04 p.m. She had about fifteen minutes until they got to her house. Challenge accepted. She quickly undid her seatbelt - his truck's so old it doesn't have seat belt detection to protest - and moved his hand off her thigh.

Sam glanced over, curiously. "Whatcha up to?"

"Nothing."

She pulled her legs up underneath her, kneeled on the bench seat and leaned over, back arched. She could feel Sam's eyes on her and she smiled at the thought of him trying to focus on the road. She was suddenly really glad she wore leggings instead of sweats. Zoe ducked under her boyfriend's arm and started palming him through his jeans.

"Uh, Zo?" Sam sounded nervous. "Probably not a good idea..."

She tugged his zipper down.

"Why not?"

"I don't know," excitement was creeping into his voice and she grinned. "What if I crash?"

She tugged his jeans down a little more, and then pulled out his dick - which was getting hard fast. She flattened her tongue against the side in one long, slow lick. "Don't crash."

Sam cussed and she wasted no time wrapping her warm, wet mouth around his shaft. She quickly found a rhythm, bobbing her head up and down his cock. She sucked hard and drooled and moaned like a porn star, pulling off for seconds at a time, just to replace her mouth with a spit-slickened palm. And then she'd get right back to it. Moaning with a mouthful of hard cock, taking him as deep as she could go.

She forced herself to relax, to fit every inch she could down her tight throat. She could feel the familiar stretch and tears pricked her eyes. Everything was quiet except for the lewd sounds of her sucking and gagging.

Sam was white-knuckling the steering wheel and from her view below, Zoe could see his throat working and his breathing get heavier. She caught his eye for the briefest of seconds and so she gazed up at him, all innocent.

Well, except for the spit covered dick which rested on her face - exactly the way Sam thought was really hot. His cock touched all the way from her chin to her eyebrow.

"I love sucking your cock," she murmured, soft lips pressing and slipping against the hard lines of his dick. She let bubbles of spit dribble out from between her lips and massaged it into the base of his dick, leaving soft, little kisses along his shaft. She took him back in her mouth and guided his dick so it bulged out of her cheek.

Sam groaned loudly and placed a hand on the back of her head.

Encouraged, Zoe threw dignity aside and went back to deepthroating him with newfound enthusiasm. She couldn't believe she ever used to think guys liked pretty blowjobs. All dainty kisses and sweet, shy licks.

The first time Sam fucked her throat, she never expected it. Like, yeah, he was a horny guy, but she really thought the sloppy, degrading, kind of blowjobs you see in porn was just that - strictly for the Hub.

Zoe thought about that hookup - when they were watching a movie in Sam's basement and she got bored, so she got on her knees. He must've been really horny because as she gently licked along his cock and looked up at him through her lashes, his hips suddenly bucked wildly, hands gripping the edge of the couch. He shoved his dick past her lips and down her throat, and she whimpered in surprise, before pulling off with a cough.

He'd apologized right away, hips stuttering, but she could tell he'd really wanted it. And...she really liked how he was looking at her, all desperate. It was insanely hot. Plus, she was curious now. How deep could she take it if she tried?

So, Zoe had grabbed his hips and took it as Sam fucked her mouth. Her theory on him being horny must have been correct because she only had a few short minutes bouncing her head on his dick before he pulled out and spilled his cum across her face. An hour later, she was in bed at home. Her throat was sore but in a good way. She could feel the weight of him against her lips.

Zoe shifted around the truck, propping herself up on her elbows to get more leverage. She knew she probably looked like a slut. Ass in the air, mouth full of cock. She could even feel herself getting wet. But she really didn't care how slutty she looked. In fact, she really loved being a slut where her boyfriend was concerned.

Zoe deepthroated him. Tears leaked out of her eyes and her plush lips stretched to take his girth. She gagged and choked and spluttered all over his cock. Embarrassing, obscene sounds fell from her mouth, muffled by heavy cock.

Sam moaned profanities and strings of encouragement - "fuck", "god, you're hot", "that feels so good" - and his fingers tangled in her hair, tugging hard. He kept one hand on the wheel, jaw hard, and moved the other from her head to her ass. He groped and grabbed and teased the damp fabric between her thighs.

"Fuck. I'm coming."

Zoe sucked even harder, laving her tongue up and down his dick. He throbbed and she worked her mouth, milking every drop. There was so much cum, she couldn't swallow it all right away. Some of the thick cream leaked from her lips and dripped down Sam's spent dick. She eagerly lapped it up.

Zoe sat up and composed herself. She laughed when she discovered that they were still in Sam's neighborhood - he'd been driving in a big circle. She kissed him.

Sam tosses his backpack and soccer bag in the cab.

"Jesus. It's freezing." He says. "Hop in and we can do something fun."

Zoe silently makes her way to the passenger door and climbs in, as Sam starts the engine and lets the truck idle.

"Okay, wait," she says. Shit. No going back now. "Um. I need to tell you something."

His eyes go wide.

"Are you pregnant?"

Zoe balks. "No! Ohmygod, why does everyone think I'm pregnant?"

Sam relaxes, a smile tugging at his lips but uncertainty still lingering in his dark eyes. "What is it then? And why are you all the way over there?"

In one quick motion, he reaches across the bench, hooks his hand over her hip and hauls her closer, pressing against his side the way they normally sit when driving around in his truck. Not that they've done it for a while.

"It's cold. Gotta conserve body heat, right?" He teases. When Zoe just nods, he tilts her head up to look at him. "Hey. What's up?"

Like a band-aid.

"I had phone sex with Sam McCall."

Sam doesn't react at first, clearly processing what she just said.

"I'm really sorry," Zoe offers, lamely. "I...I don't know. I sent him nudes--on accident! Totally an accident. And I only had his number in the first place because Grant wanted me to text their mom after guard class and I thought it was you, Sam, not him, and--"

"Zoe."

"Yeah?"

"I really don't care," Sam exhales. "Like. Okay, sorry. I know I should. That probably makes me sound like a dick. But...I don't know. You didn't actually fuck, right?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, then. Okay?"

"But..."

"But what?" Sam runs a hand through his hair. "I don't know. It doesn't seem all that different from porn or something, to me. It was an accident, you were horny, we haven't seen each other in a long ass time...I don't know, I kinda get it."

Zoe narrows her eyes.

"Did you cheat on me?"

Sam scoffs. "Yeah, like I have the time." Touche.

"So...you're not dumping me?"

He stares at her, his gaze turning cool. "Fuck. You wanted me to dump you over this."

It's not until he says it that she realizes it's true. Zoe was nervous about the confrontation...but in the back of her mind, she was excited for the liberation. The not-being-tied-down.

"We never see each other," she says softly. "We're gonna go to different colleges."

Sam sighs. Then:

"So let's break up."

Zoe finally gets what people mean when they say "thick tension." She doesn't know what to say - she doesn't want to insist they stay together. But also, breaking up suddenly doesn't feel like a great idea, either. She grabs his hand and he doesn't pull away, which is nice, at least.

"Are you gonna hate me?" she asks.

"No."

"Can I still text you?"

Sam looks at her and then rolls his eyes, his expression softening. "'Course you can."

And then Zoe says something she didn't plan to - the words just sorta, spilled out of her before she could stop them.

"Can I kiss you before we break up?"

Sam tenses a bit and she can tell he's turning the choice over in his mind.

He finally admits that he'd like to.

Zoe leans in and presses her lips to his. He always had really nice lips - soft, especially for a guy. The kiss is nice. Kind of sad at first, but also sweet. Like trying on an old favorite sweater you've lost.

It's Sam who takes things up a notch. He's the one who grabs the back of her neck, deepening the kiss, and slides his tongue into her mouth. Zoe's the one who can't help but moan a little. It just feels really good to be kissing someone again, especially someone who knows what she likes - proved even further when Sam slides his hands under her parka and roughly down her back.

When he pulls away to move his mouth to her neck, Zoe melts.

She grabs at Sam's shirt all desperate and yanks him closer, practically straddling his thigh - half in his lap, half on the seat.

"Can I fuck you before we break up?" Sam asks, his voice straining.

Fuck yes.

Unable to vocalize her thoughts, she just gasps as he shoves her coat off her shoulders and starts sucking a bruise into the sensitive skin on her neck.

"Please," she manages to choke out, already trying to undo her jeans.

They pull away long enough for her to tug them down around her ankles. Sam helps her flip over on the bench, his hands grabbing her full hips and pulling ass in the air. Zoe hates the cold, but right now, she's grateful for one thing about winter: how dark it is so early. She's turned on, but she'd probably be embarrassed if Sam's classmates walked by and saw them fucking like animals.

But as she hears Sam undo his zipper and feels his rough hand yank her thong to the side, exposing sticky, soaked folds, she's really glad it's dark out. Because she's desperate to get fucked stupid.

"Holy fuck." Sam rubs between her legs and she hears him chuckle, probably because this might be the wettest she's ever been. She practically keens when he massages his fingers over her clit.

Zoe and Sam have fucked a lot. They're horny teenagers, so, yeah. But she can already tell that something's different. It's like all walls are down - she doesn't care about sounding needy or how she looks or if she's arranged the right way because everything feels too fucking good. She can't even think straight.

And Sam? He seems to care a lot less about being rough. He doesn't hesitate, he's taking what he wants. And it's so fucking sexy. How physical it is. Zoe supposes that it makes sense, they're breaking up after all. May as well lay it all out now.

Which is why Zoe doesn't feel embarrassed when she tosses her hair over her shoulder and looks back at Sam, swaying her ass in the air and begging him to fuck her already.

He smacks her ass, hard.

"You're so impatient." He says, like it's a fact. "That why you were such a slut?"

Zoe barely has time to register his words because then, his fat cock is squeezing inside her.

"Ohmygod, fuck." She squeals, pressing her face against the car seat. She has to remind herself to breathe. She feels deliriously good. Full and aching. "You feel fucking huge, Sam."

"Don't say my name," Sam pants, leaning over her. His voice is hot against her ear. "That guy's name is Sam, too. Right?"

She nods.

"Right. So shut the fuck up."

Zoe really wishes that didn't turn her on so much. But she nods and bites her lip, face screwed up in shock and pleasure as he fucks his cock in and out of her. Despite the temperature outside, her body feels white hot. His dick punches that sweet spot in the back of her cunt with every stroke - over and over and over again.

Sam places a hand on the passenger door and the other on her shoulder, jerking her back onto his driving cock. He uses the leverage to shove even harder, even deeper, into her petite frame. Zoe's eyes practically roll back and she feels like she could cry. Every time her body falters and she thinks it might be too much, Sam tightens his grip on her - on her shoulder, her hip, her throat - and keeps going.