****** Scared Oliver by G-boy ******
===============================================================================

Scared Oliver

It was Homecoming Week for Sacred Ascension High School for Girls, and their
'brother' school, Saints Peter and Paul High School for Boys. Since Sacred
Ascension was for girls only, and Saints Peter and Paul was for Boys only, the
two schools joined together for extra curricular activities, such as Homecoming
football games. The female cheerleaders for SPPHS were all from SAHS, as were
the female band members, and the schools' Glee Club, Drama Club and Science
Club combined its memberships together.

The girls of SAHS were excited as they filed into the buses, to head to SPPHS.
The 'clique' of the Sophomore class, Mags Brown, Ann Johnson, Lisa Chi, Megan
and Tiffany Wertmuller, Angela Bonham, Patty Turner, and Amy Fornet, all
climbed into a bus and occupied the rear section. All of them buzzed with
laughter and excitement, except for Angela. She still didn't have a date for
tomorrow night's Homecoming Dance. Living on campus made finding boys an
impossibility. Her best friend, Megan, and Megan's twin sister, Tiffany, both
blond with lush figures and clear blue eyes, had dates with two boys from their
neighborhood. Mags, with her shoulder length brown hair and dimpled smile, had
a date with the son of one of her father's medical partner. Ann, with her short
curly brown hair and warm smile, had a date with her mom's best friend's son, a
football player at SPPHS, as did Lisa, the small oriental girl, with her long
black hair that reached the back of her knees. Her date was a large African
American junior at SPPHS. Patty, five feet, seven inches tall, with long wavy
brown hair and deep brown eyes, with a full, voluptuous figure had a date with
her cousin, which they'd all made fun of, until she'd showed them his picture.
He was almost as striking as her, with wavy brown hair and deep dark eyes. And,
she said, at sixteen, he was already six foot two. Even Amy, barely three feet,
three inches tall, with a head of flaming red curls, had a date, with the son
of a law partner of her father's. They were all excited, except for Angela.

This excursion meant that they wouldn't have classes until one o'clock that
day, and even then, the classes would be shorter than normal. The good sisters
ground their way through the gears of the old buses, and slowly drove toward
the SPPHS Gymnasium, for the big pep rally.

"Hey, Angela, maybe you'll meet someone at Saint Pee-pee," Megan reassured her.

"I'll see if Chris can fix you up with a friend of his," Lisa offered.

"No, thanks!" Angela yelled, then spoke quieter. "No offense, Lisa, but my mom
would shit if I brought some black guy to meet her."

"Well, you coming, anyway?" Mags asked.

Angela shrugged her shoulders. Megan put her hand on Angela's thigh and patted
it. They looked around the bus, but no one was really paying them any
attention. Megan's hand slid up Angela's thigh. Angela leaned her head back as
Megan's fingers traced their way toward her wet lips.

Oliver Collings was having a usual miserable day. He pushed his thick, coke
bottle glasses back up his nose, and picked his books up off the ground. His
classmates laughed at the skinny sophomore with his bad haircut and big feet.
Jackie Fontenot laughed the loudest; it had been his foot that tripped the
little geek. He stumbled over a few more feet that stuck out into the aisle,
but did not fall again. He scratched his dark blond hair, and sat down in his
seat, only to jump up again. Someone had put a thumbtack, point up, on his
seat. His golden eyes flashed anger.

"Ha, ha, very funny, you guys," he snapped.

Brother Thomas walked into the class room, and took the roll call. They spent
the next hour in almost complete silence as they took a history test. Oliver
was finished within twenty minutes; since he had no friends, he spent all of
his time studying. And, since his dad was blind, he read his textbooks aloud to
him.

His dad was possibly the coolest guy he knew. Totally blind since a tragic
hunting accident when he was only fourteen, his dad had overcome that, met and
married Oliver's mom, a beautiful blond, and after she committed suicide,
continued to date actively. His father was an insurance salesman, who used
speech synthesis equipment to run his computer network, a network he'd
installed himself.

"Finished already, Mr. Collings?" Brother Thomas snapped.

Even the teachers didn't seem to like him. They usually took one look at his
over-sized glasses, big hands and feet, clumsy nature and scrawny little body,
and dismissed him as a nobody.

"Yes, Brother," he croaked.

"Was it too easy for you?" Brother Thomas sneered.

He shook his head no, and re-checked his answers. If Brother Thomas found any
inconsistencies in anything, he'd simply mark the whole answer wrong. Other
students would get the benefit of a few points here and there, but Oliver would
never get such consideration. The test answers were all correct, and he handed
it in.

The SAHS buses pulled up into the parking lot, and one hundred and twenty three
screaming, giggling, laughing girls spilled out and lined up to enter the SPPHS
gym. Roll call was hurriedly called out, and they poured into the large,
echoing building. The football players and the cheerleaders were already in
their bleachers. Lisa waved hi to Chris Washington, who smiled broadly at the
little oriental girl. She and her friends, all fine looking girls giggled and
perched in the Sophomore class bleacher.

A buzzer sounded, and two hundred and eighteen boys rushed out of classrooms,
and ran to their lockers, the bathrooms, the gym. Angela scanned the crowd,
hoping she'd see someone that looked cute enough to ask to the dance.

She made up her mind on the bus; since no one had asked her, she'd ask someone
herself. She had a dress already, a beautiful light green elegant gown that her
mom had gotten for her. The color matched her eyes so well. She wasn't going to
let that dress go to waste.

She didn't know it, but Megan and Tiffany's mom had called up her mom and said
that she would be thrilled if Mrs. Bonham would let her buy Angela a dress for
this occasion. The Wertmullers had plenty of money, her father was a real
estate developer, and her husband was an oil man. She simply loved Megan's
friend, and knowing that a three hundred dollar gown would set the Bonham
household back quite a bit, what, with Anise Bonham's recent marriage and
upcoming baby, she begged Mrs. Bonham to let her do this one thing for the dear
Angela. Angela, and her mother, had been stunned by the simple elegance of the
off the shoulder gown, and Angela had cried and thanked her mother for the
beautiful gift. Mrs. Bonham had called Mrs. Wertmuller, and the two women met
for coffee and shared their own tears of joy.

"Oh, no, Cathy," Trish Wertmuller protested. "That little girl of yours is such
a joy! Megan was always the shy one, I thought she'd never have any friends of
her own, always living under Tiff's shadow!"

"You're kidding! As sweet as she is?" Cathy exclaimed.

"Oh, she's sweet, all right, but so quiet!" Trish said.



Angela wasn't the only one who was wearing a gown bought by a friend's mother.
Patty Turner and her mother lived from paycheck to paycheck, and toward the end
of the month, those paychecks were stretched to the breaking point. Amy had
gone to her own mother, and declared that she wasn't going if Patty wasn't
going, and Patty's mom couldn't afford to buy her a dress. At just under five
feet tall, Amy's mother had to look up to see Patty's face. She, and her five
foot, two inch husband, adored Amy's friend, though. Despite towering over
their daughter, she was so gentle and loving, and was always willing to pitch
in on any family endeavor. She'd called up Patty's mother, and offered to take
both girls shopping for the gowns. She brushed aside Paula Turner's objections
by simply repeating Amy's threat of not going to Homecoming if Patty didn't go,
and she wasn't about to let either girl miss this important engagement. Patty's
dress was a simple yellow affair, that brought out the deepness of her brown
eyes. Amy and Patty modeled the gowns for Henry and Sally Fornet, and again for
Paula Turner. Amy, being so short, was only able to find a simple white shift,
but her bright red curls, held back with white ribbons, made the dress look
radiant. Henry agreed that Patty's two hundred and eighty dollar gown was a
good deal; he also adored, loved Patty as a second daughter.

Oliver carefully made his way to the male Sophomore bleacher. He hated pep
rallies, not being very athletic, and not caring much whether they won or lost,
but he was grateful to have the chance to see some of the girls of SAHS. Not
that any of them would pay any attention to him, but at least he'd see some
female flesh, something to close his eyes and see while he masturbated. No, the
girls of SAHS were way out of his league; they'd have eyes only for the
football players, or the too cute Jackie, or his pals.

As he prepared to sit down, Jackie shoved him. Amid laughter, he stumbled to
the gym floor. He slowly pushed his glasses up, and glared at Jackie, who was
pretending to look elsewhere, an innocent smirk on his face.

Angela heard the laughter of the boys, and looked over. A skinny boy was
sprawled on the floor. As he pushed up those unbelievably thick glasses, she
looked at his beautiful gold eyes, so filled with pain and anger, and felt a
jolt in her stomach. He wasn't handsome, but he wasn't ugly, either. She
scanned his image, and gawked at those feet. "My God, they must be at least
three feet long!" she thought.

She wondered if it was true, what they said about a man's foot size also gave a
clue as to the size of his prick. If it was, whoever that kid was, must have to
tuck the end of it into his sock. Her stomach gave another jolt as she watched
him try to find a seat, but his classmates shoved him around until he was at
the end farthest away from the SAHS bleacher. He had a nice, rounded ass, and
she felt her juices start to flow. She leaned over and tapped some guy on the
shoulder.

Jackie turned around and looked into pale green eyes framed by soft brown hair.
She smiled, showing beautiful white teeth. He grinned back.

"Hey, you know who that kid is?" she asked, and pointed to that little fuck
head, Oliver.

"Who, him?" Jackie asked.

"Yeah, him," Angela breathed.

"Aw, man, that's just Ollie the nerd," Jackie laughed. "Why? Want me to go kick
his ass for you?"

The green eyes flashed pure animosity. The smile was replaced by a snarl.

"No, you little cock sucker, I don't," she snapped.

Jackie was stunned. He'd never been called that before, and certainly not by
such a pretty girl. Usually, they fawned all over his curly brown hair, his
sweet smile, his snub nose, his nice build. She looked away from his open
mouth, and whispered something to a blond babe sitting next to her. The blond
babe looked over at the male bleacher, looked again, and looked back at the
filthy mouthed brunette. Jackie could read the disbelief in the blonde's
expression.

"Really?" Megan asked her best friend. "But, Angela, he's so goofy looking!"

"No, he's not!" Angela protested. "Besides, he's got a cute ass."

"Well, if you say so," Megan sniffed.

Angela furtively got up. Sister Theresa approached the sophomore.

"And, where do you think you're going, young lady?" she snapped.

She didn't mean to snap. Angela Bonham wasn't a bad girl. She was a fair
student, and was generally a likable young lady. But, the stress of having to
keep one hundred plus girls in line, around all these hormone crazed boys, and
the noise, was somewhat nerve wracking. Angela smiled sweetly at her.

"Sister Theresa, I was just going right over there, to say hi to my cousin,
Ollie," she said, and pointed to a scrawny boy with big glasses.

Sister Theresa looked into the innocent green eyes, and nodded her head in
assent.

"Okay, say hi, then go sit right back down," she ordered.

Megan watched in disbelief as Sister Theresa let Angela wander over to the
boys' bleacher. The entire bleacher perked up as the pretty little figure
daintily walked near. She shook her blond hair as Angela walked over to that
weird looking guy. She could have had her pick of almost any of the boys in the
Sophomore bleacher, or the Junior bleacher, for that matter. Probably any of
the guys in the whole school. Why'd she want that goofy looking thing?

Oliver watched as the pretty girl came closer. All eyes were on her as she
approached him. His eyes widened as she smiled. It looked like she was smiling
at him!

"Hey, Ollie," she spoke to him!

"Hi," he wanted to say, but his mouth just opened and closed rapidly.

She saw the lush fullness of his lips, and felt her nipples perk up. Her pussy
was really damp by now, the adrenaline rushed through her.

"Listen, you have a date for the dance tomorrow night, or what?" she asked.

"What?" he croaked.

"Listen, I don't have a date, either, and I was wondering if you'd like to go
with me," the little goddess continued.

He looked around quickly. This had to be a joke, some cruel hoax of Jackie's.
There was no way that this girl was asking him to the Homecoming dance. But
Jackie, as well as the entire class, was looking at him. Still suspicious, he
looked back at the nervous girl.

"This is a joke, right?" he snarled at her.

Her face fell. Oliver's stomach lurched. Maybe it wasn't a joke.

"Never mind," she said, and turned away.

She was crushed. It had taken all of her courage to ask a strange boy to the
Homecoming, and he'd rebuffed her. Tears flooded into her vision.

"Hey! I, um, yeah, I'd love, I'd be happy, yeah," she heard his voice stammer.

She turned around again, and saw him fidget nervously, his Adam's apple bobbed
up and down. She quickly got his name and telephone number, and raced back to
her bleacher.

The noise of the students was deafening, so his classmates' taunts didn't
penetrate his mind. Occasionally, he'd look over at that brunette, and she'd
smile at him. He tried to smile back, but his face muscles wouldn't work right.
He felt his hands fill with sweat, and he had trouble swallowing. As the
cheerleaders chanted, someone pressed a piece of paper into his hand.

"Angela Bonham-*#*-*#*#".

She'd scribbled it down, and passed it to Jackie. She told him to pass it down
to Ollie, and he'd tried to crumple it up. He'd be damned before he'd help that
little ass hole Ollie the nerd.

"Look, you little faggot, pass it down before I kick the shit out of you," she
hissed in his face.

Angela and her older sister, Anise, grew up in the north side. They'd learned
how to fight, and talk, tough from an early age. She may be a student at SAHS,
the prestigious high school for the daughters of the well-to-do, but she hadn't
left the streets of the north side completely behind her. She was used to
dealing with stuck up little shits like this smug boy, and she knew that if it
came down to a fight, he'd back down long before the first punch was thrown.

He gaped at her in shock, but passed the note to the guy next to him. Slowly,
she watched it make its way to that cute Ollie, phone number @#&-@##%. He
looked at it, and looked at her, a look of adorable surprise on his face. She
smiled and waved. He almost smiled back.

"God, Angela, why don't you just run over there and fuck him?" Mags teased.

"I wish!" Angela sighed.

Oliver heard the girls laugh. He blushed furiously, knowing that the laughter
was at his expense. Why the hell couldn't they just leave him alone?

The bus ride back to SAHS was a loud, raucous undertaking. Mags, Ann, Megan and
Tiffany, Amy, Lisa, and Patty all asked questions about, why that kid?

"I don't know," Angela whispered in Megan's ear. "But, when I saw his eyes, I
knew him."

That pain. That fear. She'd seen that same look in her own eyes, just a short
year ago.

She'd walked onto the campus of Evelyn Heights Public High School, dressed in
short red skirt, and white crop top, that pressed against her small breasts,
and exposed her flat stomach. Her older sister, Anise, had helped her put
together the ensemble. She wanted desperately to be noticed, to have the other
students think she was cool. Three football players did notice her, and, after
school, drove the frightened girl to an abandoned site behind the local mall,
and gang raped her. They repeated this on an almost daily basis, fucking her
pussy, her mouth, her ass. Sometimes it was only one of them, other times it
was six or seven of them. The worst of the bunch was Bill. He'd fuck her
brutally in the ass, then demand that she suck his eleven inch dick clean. She
gagged on the taste of her own shit, but he just laughed and forced her head
down further. Since none of her abusers bothered with protection, and her
mother thought that she was too young to get on the pill, she wound up
pregnant. Her divorced mother called her father, and he agreed to pay the
tuition for SAHS. Her mother paid for the abortion. The look she'd seen in the
mirror, every day as she got ready for school, she'd seen it in Ollie's eyes.

She tried to explain this to Megan, but Megan had never been in the back of a
van, with three or more football players kneading her flesh, humiliating her,
and thrusting their angry cocks into her raw openings.

"Look, I'm sure he's, like, really nice and stuff," Megan had assented.

"And, did you see the size of his feet? I wonder if that's true," Angela
enthused.

"If what's true?" Amy asked.

"You know," Angela whispered.

All of the girls looked at her. She made an exasperated face.

"You know, the size of their shoes match the size of their dicks," she finally
huffed.

"Well, I wouldn't know," Mags said. "I mean, I've never done it."

"I mean, really, Angela. If anyone would know, it'd be you," Amy concurred.

"Oh, yeah, like I asked any of those ass holes, 'um, excuse me, while you're
raping me, could you tell me what your shoe size is?' Yeah, right," Angela
snapped.

"It's all right," Megan said, and put a comforting hand on her friend's leg.

Angela wasn't in the mood for a comforting finger at this moment, so she shoved
Megan's small hand away. Megan turned and stared out the window. A few minutes
later, she felt Angela's hand on her thigh, and she shoved it away.

"Look, I'm sorry," Angela's hot breath blew into her ear.

She waved her friend away, but didn't push the hand that came to rest on her
thigh. She shivered as the hand trailed up her thigh, and moaned as the fingers
found their way to her quickly moistening lips. The thumb pressed into her
clitoris, and she bit her lip to keep from squealing. She looked around, but
everyone was engrossed in their own conversations. Across the aisle, she could
see Ann and Mags touch each other furtively. She smiled into Angela's beautiful
green eyes, and fought another squeal as she came. Angela pulled her fingers
from Megan's crotch, and licked the fingers clean.

"Next best thing to being there," she quipped into Megan's ear.

His classmates berated and bullied him for the remainder of the day, the worst
being Jackie. Whereas before, Jackie's taunts and torments had been mild, they
now seemed vicious. By final bell, his body actually ached from Jackie's fists,
knees and elbows that always seemed to be within striking distance.

He was sure it was a gag, some kind of prank that those girls had planned, but
he asked his dad for advice. His dad, even though completely blind, seemed to
have a knack for picking out some of the most beautiful women.

"It's all in their voice, son," his dad had said. "Beautiful women know they're
beautiful, and it carries in their tone, their timbre. Ugly women have to shout
to be heard, and mousy, plain women just whimper a lot.

"It's in their perfume, too," he'd continued. "They never have too much on, in
fact, they rarely wear any at all. Ugly women put way too much on, and plain
women usually put on very cheap perfume."

He listened to his son's account of the moment, and smiled.

"Well, sport, I hate to tell you this, but the only way you're going to find
out for sure, is to pick up that telephone, and give her a call," his dad said.

"But, Dad, suppose she just laughs at me?" he'd whined.

"Hey, then you just laugh back," was the simple answer.

With trembling fingers, he punched the number out, and asked to speak to
Angela. A beautiful voice excitedly said hi.

"Hang on just a minute," he'd croaked into the phone.

"Dad, she sounds beautiful on the phone," he'd gasped.

Angela heard this, and giggled. She couldn't see, but she was sure she was
blushing.

"So, um, you want to go to the, um, Homecoming with me?" he asked.

"Well, yeah!" Angela gushed.

Oliver was sure this had to be a joke. He wished his dad could see this girl.
There was no way she was interested in him. But, he agreed to buy a corsage,
and rent a tuxedo for tomorrow night. He hung up the telephone.

"So, what color dress is she wearing?" his dad calmly asked.

He was glad his son couldn't see the joy and pride he was hiding behind his
calm exterior. His son seemed to have gotten his mother's shy, self deprecating
nature.

"Oh, shit! I forgot to ask!" Oliver exclaimed.

"Watch your mouth, and call her back," his father said.

He did, and his father called his latest paramour, a beautiful blond lawyer,
with two of the biggest tits Oliver had ever seen. Together, the trio made
their way through the maze of tuxedo renting and flower buying. The guy at the
tuxedo shop couldn't take his eyes off of Shirley's breasts, and would have
promised to have the tux ready in ten minutes, if she'd had asked him to. At
the flower shop, Dad bought Shirley a cute flower arrangement in a ceramic
garbage can.

"Hey, sometimes I'm a little trashy," he joked.

"Oh, yeah?" she smiled.

"Yeah," Dad said, and kissed her.

Oliver blushed. Shirley laughed, and hugged the scrawny kid to her massive
boobs. She liked this kid, he was polite and quiet, and she loved his dad.
Mother, what a lover! The bastard could go all night, with his tongue, his
fingers, and that cock. He was the first man she'd ever met that didn't just
grab at her tits and think that this was good enough foreplay. Maybe it was for
them, but she had other erogenous zones beside her breasts. Cecil also liked to
talk, and to listen, and could do both without groping her.

"I swear, that man at the tuxedo shop wouldn't take his eyes off of my chest,"
she complained lightly.

"Oh, yeah? Want me to go back, and beat him up for you?" Cecil had asked her.

"Now, that I'd like to see," Shirley said.

"Yeah, then I could sell him some health insurance, and you could help him sue
me for payment on the claim," and they all laughed.

"God, Ollie, you're going to be a knock-out in that tux," Shirley said, as she
hugged him good-night.

"Well, hell, woman, why don't you come over tomorrow night and see for
yourself? Then, when the kids leave, we'll go get dinner somewhere," Cecil
offered.

"Okay, about six thirty," Shirley agreed, and left.

His dad gave him some instructions, some tips, and three crisp one hundred
dollar bills.

"You take that young lady to a nice dinner," he said. "And, whatever she wants,
you get it for her. Make them feel special, and they'll make you feel special."

Lisa called Chris Washington, and asked if he would pick up some geek that her
friend, Angela, was going to the dance with.

"You got to be kidding me! Oliver Collings?" Chris exclaimed.

"You know him?" she asked.

"Yeah. He's a pencil neck nobody," Chris stated.

"That doesn't matter," Lisa coolly informed him. "I'm asking you to do this for
me. And, my friend likes him."

"Okay," Chris agreed.

He'd been in lust over this cute little oriental chick ever since he'd run into
her at the Science Fair last year. She was so petite, and her long hair, man!
He just wanted to pick her up, cradle her, and feel that hair all over his
body. He'd fractured his wrist the game before this one, so it was his option,
dress out and sit on the bench, or just attend the game with the rest of the
students. With a date like Lisa Chi, he wasn't going to sit on the bench with
thirty five other sweaty guys. Coach wasn't too pleased with his decision, but,
as far as he was concerned, Coach could go fuck himself if he didn't like it.

He called Oliver's house, and told the nervous little bastard that he'd be
there at six or so, to pick him up. As he hung up, he thought, "Lisa's friend
must be a real loser to like that kid."

Shirley picked up the tuxedo, and just as they finished getting him dressed,
the flowers arrived. Then, a black sedan pulled up to the curb. Shirley watched
a large black kid climb out of the car, also in a tuxedo, and walk toward the
door.

"Ollie, your date wouldn't happen to be black, or a guy, would she?" she asked.

She didn't think of herself as prejudiced, but, still, this was the South, and
some things just aren't done.

"NO!" came the belligerent answer.

Chris had simmered down since his conversation with Lisa yesterday, and when he
met Cecil Collings, he understood some of Oliver's goofy behavior. Shirley
floored him, though. She was beautiful, big breasted, what was she doing with a
blind guy?

They left the house, and Oliver reached the car.

"Um, where do you want me to sit?" he asked nervously.

"Up front, until we get Lisa," Chris said.

Oliver got in the car.

"Um, I really, um, appreciate you picking me up like this," he stammered.

"Hey, my brother, no problem," Chris smiled. "You know, I got me a retarded
brother, so, I kind of understand what it's like, you know, with someone who's
handicapped."

"You mean, my dad?" Oliver snapped, defensive. "My dad might be blind, but he's
cool."

"I know that's right," Chris said easily. "My brother Charlie's all right. He's
funny as all get out, you know what I'm saying? Hey, you like some music?"

With that, Chris cranked up some old Led Zeppelin. They drove in silence to
Lisa's house.

"You wait here, my man," Chris said. "They probably going to want to take all
kind of fucking pictures and shit, you know how them chinks are, with their
fucking cameras."

Lisa's mother answered the door. with her father next to her. They smiled
broadly at the tall African American that loomed in their doorway. He was
ushered in, and the Chis called their daughter down. She walked into the room,
wearing a pale pink gown that accented her golden skin and black hair, which
was tied up in flowing cascades.

"Now, you be good to my little girl, or I chop you up," joked Mr. Chi. "Hi
Yah!"

"Oh, God, daddy, give it a rest," Lisa huffed.

After a few pictures, they left. Oliver climbed into the back seat, and Chris
held the door open for Lisa. She greeted Oliver with a smile, and they drove
off, with Lisa telling Chris how to get to the Bonham house. They pulled up in
the driveway, and Oliver had a strong urge to run.

"Go on, get her," Chris ordered the scared youth.

Oliver looked at him, stricken with fear. Chris smiled broadly.

"Don't make me come back there and drag you out, fool," he joked.

"Go on, Oliver, she's waiting. I just got off the phone with her when you guys
pulled up," Lisa encouraged.

With trembling legs, Oliver got out of the car, and staggered his way to the
front door.

"What a poon," Chris said. "So, what's this friend of yours look like?
Godzilla?"

"You just wait and see," Lisa pouted.

Cathy Bonham looked out the window as she heard the car stop. A scrawny, goofy
looking boy got out of the back seat and wobbled toward the door. She read the
terror in the kid's face and mused to herself.

"This is what Angela's got herself in a knot over?"

The kid knocked so lightly, had she not been standing right there, she'd have
never heard it. She opened the door, and the youth stood there. He opened his
mouth, but no sound came out.

"You here to pick up Angela?" she offered.

He nodded his head yes. She was beginning to see what Angela saw in him. Her
maternal instincts wanted to just take this boy into her arms, and comfort him.
She also understood, after being used by those football players, Angela wanted
someone she could feel safe with. And, this kid was certainly no threat. She
stood aside, and the kid tripped over the threshold. Damn, did that kid have
some feet!

"Angela, your date's here!" she called out.

Angela counted to five, and swept into the living room. Oliver almost fainted.
Her mother's eyes filled with tears. Her baby was beautiful in the pale green
gown, her brown hair set in ringlets, her eyes glowing with excitement.
Somehow, Oliver managed, with her help, to place the corsage on her wrist.
Cathy Bonham took a single picture, as it was the last exposure in the roll,
and they left the small, run-down house.

"Mother fucker!" Chris exclaimed. "That's his date?"

"God, don't have an orgasm," Lisa huffed.

It was true. Angela did look beautiful. And that goofy kid started to look a
little better, too. A little taller, a little prouder, a little more sure of
himself. Angela held onto his arm, and smiled broadly as he opened the car door
for her. She and Lisa squealed at each other, and Oliver ran around the back of
the car, and climbed in. Angela immediately slid over next to him. He swallowed
hard, and hoped she couldn't smell his sweat.

"Hi," she whispered in his ear, and he gasped.

"Where to?" Chris asked, as they approached the main intersection.

Angela looked into his golden eyes, saw his full lips quiver, and lightly
rested her hand on his hands, which nervously folded and unfolded, clenched and
unclenched. He jumped and looked at her, startled fear in his eyes.

"I don't care, what about you?" Lisa said.

"Shit, I don't know, Oliver?" Chris said.

"What?" Oliver almost screamed.

"Where you want to eat?" Chris asked, and glanced in the rear view mirror.

God, that gorgeous girl was practically in his lap, and the little dweeb was
just sitting there. Their eyes met in the rear view mirror, and Chris felt a
lurch in his stomach. The kid was terrified. He tried to imagine what Charlie,
his retarded brother, would feel like, if he were in that situation, and the
lurch of sympathy for this kid took his breath away.

"I don't know," he stammered.

Chris made the decision for them. He picked a Mexican restaurant that he used
to work at, and, even though they had no reservations, the head waiter
remembered him, and got them a table right away. Chris grabbed Oliver's
shoulder, and pulled him to his feet.

"If you ladies will excuse us, we got to go powder our nose," he joked, and
pushed Oliver toward the bathroom.

Oliver was grateful. The pressure in his bladder was intense, but he couldn't
think of a way to excuse himself. Hell, he couldn't think of a way to even talk
to Angela. They entered the bathroom, and he rushed to the urinal.

"God damn, boy, you fucking up in there," Chris exclaimed. "That girl is hot
for you, and you sitting there with your head up your butt,"

"I know! But, I can't think of nothing to say!" Oliver whined.

"Tell her how beautiful she is! Tell her how she makes you feel like a bad
mother, just being around her! Tell her anything, God damn, that your dick, or
a fucking snake?" Chris exclaimed as he looked down and saw Oliver's squirting
penis. Even in its flaccid state, it was easily eight inches long, and three
inches around. Oliver looked down at his own member, and blushed.

"Got it at K Mart," he mumbled. "They was having a sale, buy six inches, get
the next six inches free."

Chris laughed and slapped Oliver on the shoulder.

"You all right, my man, you all right. Now, come on, let's get back to our
women before some mother fucker come along, want them."

"You, um, you sure this ain't a joke?" Oliver asked him.

The large youth looked at the scared little white boy, and shook his head no.

"Fuck, I don't think so!" he said.

Had a football player said he was 'all right?' And, 'my man?' Could that
beautiful girl really be 'hot' for him? His head was reeling as they made their
way back to the table. The girls were giggling and laughing as they approached.
He sat down and looked at his menu. He felt a foot kick him under the table,
and he looked up. Chris nodded his head toward Angela. He looked at her, and
she looked up and smiled at him.

"Um," he started, then stopped.

"Yes?" she breathed.

"Um, this might sound really stupid, but, um.."

She looked at him, that smile never leaving her lips, those eyes never fading.

"Uh, you, uh, God! What are you doing? With me, I mean? I don't understand,
why's a beautiful girl like you even looking at a loser like me?" his words
rushed out.

The smile faded, but the eyes continued to sparkle. She leaned close to him.

"You're not a loser. You have the most wonderful eyes," she breathed.

"My eyes?" he stammered and blushed.

"Uh-huh. I can see everything in your eyes," she said, and lowered her head.
"All your fear, your hurt. I see me."

"You? You've been hurt?" he snapped, ready to do battle with whoever had dared
to hurt this lovely creature.

She looked up and smiled wistfully.

"Yeah, but that was a long time ago," she hushed.

Their waiter came, and they placed their orders, with Chris helping to explain
what each entree was. Oliver almost choked on his cola when he felt a small
hand rest on his thigh. He reached under the table cloth, and held the delicate
hand.

Across the table, Chris was in heaven. Lisa had unzipped his trousers, and had
eased his cock out. She softly stroked it, and when she felt the semen boil to
the surface, she daintily dropped her napkin. Chris' hips bounced on his chair
as he tried not to shoot his load on his rented tuxedo trousers.

"You ready?" she whispered.

He nodded his head yes.

"Oh, damn, I dropped my napkin," she exclaimed, and bent forward to get it.

She slid the head of his dick into her mouth, and Chris released torrent after
torrent into the sucking mouth. She didn't let up on her stroking, either, and
he emptied his balls into that hot little mouth. She sat up, and dabbed the
corners of her mouth. Chris caught his breath, and looked around to see if
anyone had noticed what had just happened.

"So, how was it?" Angela asked, humor glittering in her eyes.

"Not bad!" Lisa pronounced, and the two girls laughed out loud.

Chris looked at both of them, and broke into a broad grin. "Got that right!" he
exclaimed, which brought on a fresh gale of laughter.

Oliver looked confused. Their food arrived, and Angela released his hand. A
moment later, he felt her hand again, much higher up his leg this time. He
looked at her, but she was busy eating her enchilada. He tried to eat, but the
hand palmed his cock, and he coughed on his mouthful of food. The hand stroked
down the length of his cock, and Angela looked at him, amazement in her eyes.

"My God, what is that?" she exclaimed out loud.

Chris looked up, and laughed. Oliver blushed furiously.

"K Mart special, buy six inches, get the next six inches free," he crowed.

Angela looked at him. "No shit!" she exclaimed.

His meat was growing to its full fourteen inches. Angela scooted her chair
closer, and unzipped his trousers. Oliver looked around the restaurant
nervously. Chris and Lisa smiled knowingly, but continued to eat.

"God damn, Ollie, does this thing ever end?" Angela gasped as she slowly worked
it out of his trousers.

She was having trouble keeping it under the tablecloth, and Oliver wasn't
helping matters much, by wiggling so much.

"Calm down," she hissed into his ear, then lightly kissed his neck. "I'll stop,
if you want me to."

"Please?" he croaked. "I mean..."

So, this was it, the point of the joke. She was going to have him expose
himself in public, really embarrass him. Just thinking about it made him mad,
and his penis deflated slightly. She gave it a final squeeze, and he quickly
shoved it back into his trousers. Lisa looked across the table at Angela, who
frowned, and shrugged her shoulders.

They finished the meal in silence, and Oliver and Chris split the bill between
them. They rushed to the car, as the game was going to start in just a few
minutes.

At the outdoor stadium, Lisa and Angela looked around for their friends, and
finally found them. They all trouped over to where Megan and Tiffany, Mags,
Ann, Patty, and Amy were sitting, with their dates. Squeals and hugs abounded
as the girls chattered.

Oliver looked at Angela, and saw her holding her two hands far apart. A blond
girl looked at him, her blue eyes wide. Chris elbowed him.

"They talking about you, my man," he laughed, and turned to Megan's date, a
nervous Junior at SPPHS.

"Yeah, Ben, you ought to see this mother fucker's thing, man," he said. "Got to
be at least five feet long!"

"Aw, Washington, you full of shit," Ben laughed.

"I ain't lying! Your boy whips it out in the bathroom, had to stand up against
the other wall, thought I was seeing double!" Chris went on, and winked at
Oliver.

The football game itself was fairly uneventful. The score between SPPHS and
Christian Academy went back and forth, with SPPHS only four points ahead at
half time. Oliver had bought Angela a cold drink, and was surprised when she
offered him a sip from the cup.

"You want some?" she asked.

"Um, no," he stammered.

"You sure?" she asked, then leaned closer. "I don't mind drinking out of the
same cup as you, you know."

He took a gulp of the soda. He looked at Chris, who was busy talking to his
friends. He wished his dad was here, he'd know what to do. He tapped Chris on
the shoulder.

"Can I talk with you?" he begged.

Chris looked around, and nodded his head yes. They excused themselves, and
walked to the bathroom.

"Man, I don't know what to do!" Oliver exclaimed.

"Just be cool," Chris said. "I mean, the girl's got it bad for you, just be
cool."

"But, I mean, suppose it's all, like a joke, or something, you know?"

"If it's a joke, it's a joke, but you got to be cool," Chris said.

"But, I don't know how!" Oliver whined.

"I know that's right!" Chris joked, then got serious. "Look, cool ain't
standing in the men's room, shooting the shit with your friends, all right? Go
back out there, tell her she's one bad ass, you like her, whatever."

"You're my friend?" Oliver wondered.

"I must be, talking to you in the john," Chris said, and walked out the door.

The Half-time ceremonies concluded with the presentation of Homecoming King and
Queen, and their royal court. Mags was the Sophomore Lady in Waiting, and the
Sophomore Class yelled and cheered for her. Erin, a cute little girl with honey
blond hair and brown eyes, was the Freshman Lady in Waiting. Mags smiled
sweetly at her.

"Hey, Erin, you thirsty? I got to take a piss, real bad," she cooed.

Erin looked at her, stricken. She, and her closest friend, Dee, had been
invited to Mags' house, for a sleep-over. During the course of the evening, the
'clique' had tied them with their faces in each other's crotch, and made to
drink the urine of the eight girls of the 'clique,' and lick each pussy to
orgasm. All of this was retaliation for calling the 'clique' a bunch of dykes.

The photographer clicked, and the picture showed a smiling Queen, Senior,
Junior, Sophomore, and Eighth Grade Ladies in Waiting, and one worried Freshman
Lady in Waiting. Angela nodded toward Mags.

"She's one of my closest friends," Angela confided in him.

"I thought Megan was," he said.

"No, she's my best friend, but, still," she said.

Angela had introduced him to the 'clique' when they arrived, and he was
beginning to remember some of their names. Lisa, of course, was the oriental
that they'd come to the game with. with the lovely round face and almond eyes.
Patty was easy to remember, she had huge boobs which threatened to pop out of
that yellow dress. That short little girl, the one with the bright red hair,
the one that looked six or seven years old, was Amy. Ann was the one with the
real short curly hair, and boyish figure, in the swirls of pale blue. How she
could tell the difference between Megan and Tiffany, the blond twins, was
beyond him, though. Was Megan the one in the blue, or was it Tiffany? Was
Tiffany the one in the pink, or was it Megan? Mags was a lot easier to
remember, now that she had that silly tiara on her head, with her white gown.

"You should have been Queen," he whispered to Angela.

"Really?" she gushed, and snuggled next to him.

"Young lady, I want to see daylight between you two," Sister Theresa intoned as
she made her rounds of the bleachers.

"But, it's night time!" Angela laughed.

Sister Theresa had to laugh at that one. She frowned slightly. She thought she
recognized that kid with the big glasses as the boy Angela said was her cousin.
She didn't think it was too appropriate to be sitting that intimately with
one's cousin, but it was possible that they were cousins once removed. The boy
certainly didn't look anything like the pretty little sophomore. She frowned at
Lisa's choice of dates; she firmly believed that whites should date whites,
blacks should date blacks, and Orientals should date Orientals. Any variation
from that formula made her uncomfortable. She didn't consider herself to be a
bigot; she would teach any girl, no matter what her color, but still..

The game finally ended, with Christian Academy pulling ahead by three points.
This loss, however, did not dull the spirits of the 'clique' as they laughed
and chattered their way to the gymnasium for the Homecoming Dance.

"I can't dance," Oliver whispered to Chris.

"So what?" Chris said. "That ain't the point. The point is, get the girl on the
floor, then hold them as tight as you can."

The first thing that the 'clique' wanted, was photographs of themselves, with
their dates. The photographer had a field day, as the girls shifted around,
wanting pictures of themselves with this friend or that one, and finally, a
picture of all eight of them, and all eight of them again, with their dates. At
ten dollars a snap, he was delighted with them. The long line behind them,
however, wasn't very happy.

"How many you want?" he asked Angela.

Years in the business had taught him, don't ask the date. They never wanted
more than one for each of them. The girls, however, wanted one for themselves,
for their friends, for their parents and grandparents.

Angela wasn't gullible, though. She knew the value of a dollar, and was going
to request one of each, only, but Oliver spoke up.

"I want one of every picture that has her in it. And whatever she wants," he
said.

He smiled. He still wasn't convinced that this wasn't some cruel joke, but,
even if it was, he'd have pictures to look at, to lust over as he masturbated.

"Are you sure? That's a lot of money," Angela whispered.

"You know something? I mean, this might sound really stupid, but, you're worth
it," he said.

"God, I could fall in love with you," she whispered.

"God, I hope so. I already am," he stammered.

The photographer took the crisp one hundred dollar bill, and gave Oliver the
requested photographs. They made their way to the dance floor. Jackie looked
over, and elbowed Tim.

"Man, look at who that sack of shit's with!" he exclaimed.

The girl was stunning. And that little prick was standing there, his big old
glasses halfway down his nose, grinning from ear to ear. Jackie seethed. He
made his way over to them.

"Hey, baby, you ever get tired of this loser, I show you what a real man feels
like," he said nastily.

"You? Ha!" she laughed.

"Yeah, me!" he retorted.

He really wasn't used to girls rejecting him, especially over this worthless
bastard.

"Why don't you leave us alone," the little fucker croaked.

"Why don't you suck my dick?" Jackie snapped.

"Shit, why don't you just get the fuck on out of here, before I fuck your whole
world up?" Chris said, from behind Oliver.

Jackie looked at the big black guy that was standing there, and backed down. He
groused and grumbled his way back to his buddies. His own date, Collette, a
busty blond freshman from Evelyn Heights Public High School, stood nearby and
simmered.

Her date, that cute boy Jackie Fontenot, was more interested in playing with
his friends than showing her any attention. She'd been thrilled when he'd
casually asked her to his Homecoming, and she'd had to do a lot of extra chores
around the house before her mom would buy her this pretty pink dress, and for
what? To watch him run around and make an ass out of himself? She'd agreed to
go to his Homecoming, if he'd take her to her Homecoming next week, but now she
didn't think that was such a great idea.

The Brothers and Sisters of the two schools made sure that the Disc Jockey
plawed no slow songs, so Chris' advice of just holding her close didn't exactly
apply, but Oliver tried his best to keep up with the lively, energetic Angela
as she and her friends cavorted about. Jackie watched his nemesis with
unbridled hatred. His stupid tit wonder of a date kept pestering him to dance,
but he kept rebuffing her. Finally, he saw his chance. A panting Angela and
Oliver made their way to the punch bowl. He grabbed Collette's half full cup of
punch.

"Watch this," he laughed to Tim and Gary.

"Hey! I wasn't finished with that!" Collette protested.

"So what?" he snapped, and sauntered off.

She watched in shock as Jackie prepared to dump her cup of punch on that pretty
dress that girl was wearing. He sneaked up behind Angela, and was about to tip
the cup, when Oliver turned abruptly, and splashed a full cup of bright red
punch down the front of his white tuxedo shirt. Jackie was so startled, he
spilled the remainder of Collette's punch down the front of his trousers.
Oliver, even though he didn't like Jackie, was truly sorry.

"Oh, man, I'm sorry!" he exclaimed.

Jackie stood there, with his mouth open in shock. That filthy mouthed girl was
laughing at him. This was so unfair, he was supposed to be laughing at them! He
reared his hand back, to punch the stupid son of a bitch, when she stepped in
front of him.

"Don't you dare, stupid cock sucker," she snarled.

He looked at her fierce eyes for a full minute, then backed down. He walked
back to his buddies, and that little bitch, Collette, was laughing at him. He
slapped her hard in the face.

"What the fuck's so funny, bitch?" he yelled.

Brother Richard, the principal of the school, watched the whole incident. That
kid, it looked like Oliver Collings, had just stopped that spoiled brat, Jackie
Fontenot, from ruining a girl's dress. He was about to step in, when he saw him
slap a little blond. His face turned red with anger, and he barreled his way
through the crowd.

"Huh? What's so funny, stupid cunt?" he heard Jackie demand, loud and clear.

"Mr. Fontenot!" he thundered.

"What?" the little brat snapped, before he realized who it was.

"You are to leave the school's premises, at once," Brother Richard ordered.
"And, Monday morning, I want you and your parents in my office, first thing. Is
that understood?"

"Fine, what ever," the agitated boy mumbled.

Brother Richard watched through slit eyes as Jackie and the tearful Collette
stormed out of the gymnasium. With some satisfaction, he noted that none of
Jackie's usual crowd left with him, even though Jackie tried to cajole them
into leaving.

Oliver and Chris stood by the punch bowl, while Megan, Lisa, Tiffany, and
Angela trouped into the ladies' room.

"Why they always got to go together?" Megan's date, Ben, groused.

"In case they get lost," Chris joked.

In the rest room, Megan excitedly asked Angela, "You going to let him fuck
you?"

Angela smiled. "If he wants to, I'll let him do anything!"

"Oh, Angela!" Megan gasped.

She was a little jealous. She and Angela had been lovers for almost a full year
now, and this was the first time someone else seemed to come close enough to
threaten their relationship. Angela sensed this and drew near to her friend.

"Don't worry, I'll still love you best of all," she whispered.

A stall became available, and the two crowded into the small cubicle. Angela
pulled Megan's face close, and they kissed briefly, before Megan squatted down
and urinated loudly.

"How about you?" Angela asked. "You going to let Ben do it?"

"Ben? Please!" Megan squealed. "I don't even want him to kiss me!"

"Lisa, you didn't! In the restaurant?" Tiffany squealed, as her friend
described her blow job.

"I didn't jump under the table, you know," Lisa giggled. "Just jerked him off,
then swallowed!"

"Eeww!" Tiffany grimaced, then leaned closer. "How was it?"

"Not bad," Lisa admitted. "But, I've tasted something better before."

The two laughed knowingly, and all four exited the bathroom, just as Ann, Mags,
Patty, and Amy were entering. The room was far too small to hold the eight
'clique' members, but they stayed in there long enough to agree, it was time to
leave SPPHS and head to Mags home for some swimming in the outdoor heated pool.

Angela, Lisa, Megan and Tiffany rushed over to their dates.

"We're going swimming," Angela gleefully shouted.

"Yeah, you want to go swimming?" Lisa asked Chris.

Megan and Tiffany didn't ask their dates, as neither one really cared if their
dates came with them, stayed at the dance, or simply went on home. As Megan and
Tiffany, and their two dates lived only three streets away from the Browns'
residence, it didn't really matter what their decision was.

"I, uh, didn't bring a bathing suit," Oliver stammered.

"Fuck, we'll stop on the way, and you can pick one up," Chris offered.

"Oh, please!" Angela pleaded.

His father's advice flooded into his head. Whatever she wants, you get it for
her. Make her feel special. He smiled.

"You know, you make me feel special," he murmured to her.

She hugged him, and they rushed out of the gymnasium.

"If that boy's her cousin, I'm the Pope," Sister Theresa said.

Angela was impressed with Oliver's home. He proudly pointed out the slate
sidewalk, and the hedges and flowers that his father planted. They entered the
darkened house, and Oliver called out for his dad, but there was no answer.

After Oliver and Chris had pulled away, Cecil took Shirley to their favorite
Chinese restaurant. After a delicious meal, served to them by their favorite
waitress, Cecil took a deep breath, and began to talk.

"You know, we've been seeing a lot of each other over the last few months," he
said.

Shirley clenched her fists. Her girlfriend, the last woman that Cecil had dated
before her, had told her that Cecil was a complete gentleman, even when he
broke off with her, he did it so gently, that it was impossible to get mad at
him.

"And, there comes a time in every relationship, when you feel like it's time to
move forward,

The waitress brought them their fortune cookies. Shirley was glad that Cecil
couldn't see; her eyes were tearing. She really liked him, and thought his son
was the sweetest little boy. She didn't want to call it quits for this
relationship; she wanted to keep seeing him, and spending time with him.

"Oh, our cookies are here," he smiled, and broke his open. He pulled out the
slip of paper, and waited for her to open hers.

She did so, but instead of a slip of paper, a ring fell onto the table.

"I'm thinking of asking Oliver to be my best man, what do you think?" he
smiled.

Shirley gasped when the import of what he was saying sank in. In front of a
small crowd of laughing patrons and kitchen staff, Shirley screamed and hugged
Cecil.

"Now, will you read what my fortune says?" he asked, and handed her his tiny
slip of paper. It read, "Please say YES."

"I guess he and Shirley went.." he said, as Angela shoved her tongue in his
mouth.

He was taken completely off guard, but quickly adapted to this. He held her
with trembling arms, and relished the kiss. This couldn't be a joke; there was
no one here to laugh at him, to make fun of him, to ridicule him for believing
that such a pretty girl would find him attractive.

Outside, Chris honked the horn.

"I knew we shouldn't have let them go in there," he joked to Lisa. "Now, we'll
never get them out of there."

"Let them stay," Lisa quietly said, and slid onto his lap.

Chris and Lisa kissed and rumpled one another's clothing as their hands roamed
one another's bodies. Chris was a little disappointed that Lisa didn't have
very much in the way of breasts, but he wasn't going to complain, as she slid
his zipper down, and hiked the hem of her gown to her waist. He was surprised
to find that she had no panties on underneath. He admired her hairless, wet
pussy.

"I took them off in the bathroom," she husked, and slowly sat down on his stiff
member.

"Go slow, I'm still a virgin," she moaned, as his cock head splayed open her
tiny pussy.

His cock was at its full ten inches as it slowly pushed into the hot wetness.
There was no resistance, as her hymen had been broken a few years earlier.
Soon, her buttocks rested firmly on his lap, and she sat, panting and moaning
as her small body adjusted to the full feeling in her twat.

She was telling part of the truth when she said she was a virgin. She had never
been intimate with a man before, but she and Tiffany, and sometimes Megan, had
experimented with shoving various objects into each other's wet pussies. When
she told Tiffany that she'd tasted better before, she'd meant Tiffany. The two
had been lovers ever since meeting at SAHS in the eighth grade. Mags and Ann,
best friends since first grade, had known Megan and Tiffany from the
neighborhood, and all five girls had been delighted to find out that they had
this lesbian connection. Mags and Ann had started to touch each other to
shuddering climaxes when they were both eleven, and when Amy was brought into
the fold, they seemed to be at their peak of ecstasy. They seemed to pair off
almost exclusively, Mags and Ann, Tiffany and Lisa, and Megan and Amy, but when
Patty was lured into, what was at that time simple revenge for Patty's mean
treatment of the 'clique,' Amy pulled away from Megan, and she and Patty were
now soul mates. Angela had come along a few months later, and Megan was
thrilled to have her own girlfriend.

Chris felt his balls getting ready to explode. Lisa had been bouncing up and
down on his meat, her tiny hot box gripping and squeezing him. She had screamed
three times in noisy orgasm, and he grunted as he could not hold it back any
more.

"I'm about to, I'm going to," he panted.

"Yes, God, yes!" Lisa screamed as another orgasm rocked through her.

This was unbelievable. She'd come before, but nothing like this. Even her ass
muscles felt on fire, from clenching and unclenching.

"You want me to shoot it in you?" Chris gasped.

"Fuck, yes!" Lisa screamed as hot liquid flooded into her cunt. "Don't worry,
I'm on the pill," she panted.

Thick spurt after thick spurt pulsed into her, as Chris moaned and wheezed his
way to exhaustion.

Inside, a nude Angela was straddled on Oliver's body, his head between her
legs, her mouth trying desperately to swallow as much of his fourteen inches as
she could. He licked and sucked at the fragrant wet slit, and was rewarded by
her stifled moans of pleasure. She shivered as his tongue accidentally lurched
upward, and brush against her puckered anus. She pulled her mouth from his
throbbing cock.

"Yeah, do that again," she pleaded.

"You mean, this?" he asked, and lapped at her small anus.

"Oh, fuck yes!" she gasped.

He lapped at the not unpleasant tasting hole. Slowly, the puckered skin
relaxed, and he pushed his tongue in as far as it would go. She grunted, and
began pulling on his dick in earnest. Instinct told him to thrust a finger into
her wet snatch, and she rewarded this by sucking at least six inches of his
meat into her mouth. A second finger, and she pulled her head off of his
burning cock.

"Oh! Oh! Yes!" she grunted, and began to rapidly jerk him off.

"I'm going to come," he warned her.

"Me too!" she screamed, and began to shudder violently as a powerful wave
crashed through her. He shoved a third finger into her hot tight twat, and
licked at her ass hole. She bucked and screamed, and glued her mouth onto his
cock again. Two more strokes, and he began to shoot his semen into her mouth,
thick hot streams of his fluid filled her mouth as fast as she could swallow.
When he was finally finished, and his cock shrank down to its still huge size,
she pushed his fingers from her clutching cunt.

"Next time, I want your meat in me," she gasped, and kissed him on those
wonderful, sweet lips of his.

"Next time? There's going to be a next time?" he wondered out loud.

"Well, yeah, don't you like me?" she said, crestfallen.

"More than you'd believe!" he protested.

She smiled and kissed him again.

"Yeah?" she asked.

"Yeah," he affirmed.

They dressed quickly, and Oliver grabbed his swim trunks and a towel. They ran
to the car, embarrassed that they had been gone for so long, but Chris and
Lisa, just finished from their own sexual endeavor, looked up guiltily as
Angela knocked on the window.

"God, what were you two doing?" she chided Lisa, as Chris unlocked the car
doors.

"Waiting on you," Chris answered, as he started the car.

"With the doors locked?" Oliver said.

Chris smiled at his new friend.

"Yeah, might not be a safe 'hood, you know what I'm saying?" Chris joked.

The 'hood was a middle class neighborhood, with a mostly white populace, so
they all laughed. Lisa and Angela shouted out directions to Mags' house, and
Chris whistled when he saw the large home in the richest subdivision of the
town. Even in this setting, the Browns' home was impressive. The brick was a
deep chocolate brown, and everything was trimmed in white. Three stories loomed
above the foundation, and the porch was ablaze with lights. Mags opened the
door, already dressed in her bikini.

"God damn, that's one flat white girl," Chris said, as the slim girl waved them
in.

"Tits, tits, tits," Lisa cheerfully groused. "That all you guys ever think
about?"

"No, she ain't got no ass, neither," Chris replied.

In the living room, everyone was re-introduced, and introduced to Dr. Melanie
and Dr. Jim Brown, an attractive couple in their late forties. Margaret had
been a complete surprise to both of them; they had given up on ever having
children, when a thirty four year old Melanie missed her first period. By the
second month, they held their breath, and were ecstatic when the test came back
positive.

The Browns warmly welcomed their daughter's friends, even the large African
American and that scrawny kid with the glowing Angela.

"I have a partner that is an African American," Jim said to Chris.

"No shit? I got a doctor that's white," Chris lightly said. "Think we're
related?"

Jim broke into laughter, and shook the youth's hand firmly.

"And, you, young man," he said to Oliver.

"My doctor's white, too," Oliver said.

"Angela, I like this boy. Thinks on his feet," Jim said, and waved the group to
the sliding glass doors. "You kids have fun, but keep it down to a minor roar.
We've got neighbors, you know."

Angela and Lisa ran to the bathroom to change into their swimsuits. They'd
brought them in their small clutches, just in case Mags would decide to do
this, so they were prepared.

"Oh, God, it was unbelievable," Lisa gushed, as she filled Angela in on the
details of her deflowering.

"Really? Is it true, what they say about black men?" Angela gasped and giggled.

Lisa held up her two hands, at least two feet apart. She and Angela broke into
fresh gales of laughter. They raced outside and found their dates waiting.
Oliver looked very uncomfortable in nothing but his trunks, but Chris proudly
modeled his bikini briefs. Oliver looked at Angela in her skimpy black bathing
suit, and shifted uncomfortably as his penis began to stiffen.

"You like it?" she asked, and twirled around for his inspection.

"Oh, yeah," he croaked.

She snuggled up against him.

"Listen, I can't swim all that good, okay?" she whispered.

He nodded his head yes, and they walked to the shallow end of the pool, and
slowly entered the water, holding hands. Megan watched with an almost broken
heart as her girlfriend seemed to be smitten by this goofy looking guy, with
the thick glasses. He didn't even take them off to go swimming, for God's sake!
Ben, her own date, left shortly afterward, tired of being ignored, and Megan
sat on one side of Angela, while Oliver sat on the other side. They dangled
their feet in the warm water, and shivered in the night air.

At one o'clock in the morning, Jim Brown came outside, and informed the crowd
that it was time to call it a night. All of the other dates had long since
left. Chris and Oliver jammed themselves into their jeans and shirts, and
prepared to say good night. Lisa and Angela informed them that they were
staying at the twins' house that night.

"You sure you want to?" a petulant Megan asked Angela.

"Well, yeah," Angela said, concerned.

Chris drove all four of the girls the three blocks, and he lightly kissed Lisa
good night. Angela had a hard time pulling herself away from Oliver, but
finally managed to do so. Chris drove Oliver to his home, and refused Oliver's
offer to pay for half the gas.

"Catch it next time," he told the boy.

"Later, my man," Oliver said, and walked with a jaunty step toward his front
door. Shirley's car was in the driveway, so he was quiet as he entered his
home, but it was hard not to run to his dad's room, wake him up, and tell him
the exciting details of his date. Except for the sex, of course. A real
gentleman doesn't tell those sort of things, even to his dad.

"Oliver? That you?" his dad called out.

"Yeah, dad," he answered.

"Come here for a minute, will you?" his dad called.

He cautiously entered his dad's bedroom. Shirley sat up in the bed, covered by
a satin robe. He and his dad had picked out the robe, when it became obvious
that they couldn't pretend that Shirley wasn't spending the nights at the
Collings' house.

"Shirley has something to show you," his dad proudly said.

Shirley waggled her left hand at him, and he looked at it. There, on her third
finger, was a ring, with a modest diamond. He blinked and looked at her. His
dad smiled broadly.

"Hey, son, will you be my best man? The wedding's still a few months off, so
you've got plenty of time to think about it," his dad said.

"Well, yeah, Dad!" Oliver said, and hugged his dad.

Then he went around the bed, and hugged his soon to be mother.

"What do I call you? Mom? Or Shirley?" he asked sincerely.

"Whatever you want to," she said as tears glistened in her eyes. "Now, tell us
about your date. How'd it go?"

In glowing terms, he described every last minute. Finally, he ran out of steam
and yawned widely. Cecil sent him off to bed, and turned to Shirley.

"I think my little boy's not a little boy anymore," he said.

Megan listened in stony silence as Angela went on and on about that goofy
Ollie. Angela didn't even notice that she wasn't responding. Tiffany, on the
other hand, was listening with rapt attention as Lisa described her first
sexual tryst with a man. She leaned close to the small girl.

"You let him come in you?" she asked.

Lisa nodded. Tiffany licked her lips.

"Think there's any left?" Tiffany asked.

Lisa spread her legs wide for Tiffany's blond head to probe. After a few hours,
and especially after swimming, none but the most stubborn traces of semen
remained, but Tiffany's tongue probed Lisa's hairless slit for ten minutes,
while Lisa held a pillow over her mouth the stifle her screams and moans. When
she could take no more, she gently pushed Tiffany onto her back, and probed her
blond thicket with her tongue and three fingers.

"What's wrong?" Angela asked, finally noticing that Megan simply sat on the
bed.

"Nothing," Megan flatly stated.

"Oh, come on, Megan, what is it?" Angela asked.

Megan burst into tears. Angela tried to hug her, but the blond pushed her away.

"No, don't touch me," she wailed.

"What's wrong?" Angela asked, her own tears beginning to fall.

"Ollie, Ollie, Ollie, that's all you can fucking talk about, is that four eyed
geek! Well, what about me? Huh?" Megan sobbed.

"What do you mean?" Angela sobbed back.

"You going to forget all about me, now that you got a boyfriend? Fucking bitch!
Two days ago, you didn't even know him! But, now.."

"No, Megan! You're my best friend! I love you," Angela protested.

"Yeah, right," Megan snapped, and roughly shoved Angela.

Angela shoved her back. Within seconds, the two best friends were slapping and
scratching at each other, and pulling each other's hair. They did so as quietly
as possible, to keep from waking Megan's mom, and after a few moments, both
were gasping for breath, and glaring at each other. Megan's eyes softened, and
she approached her friend. Angela watched cautiously, as Megan leaned forward,
and kissed her on the lips.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"You should be!" Angela hissed. "You should know, nothing could ever come
between us!"

"Oh, yeah, right. Like, I'm so sure, you'll just say to Ollie, 'Oh, by the way,
I'm going to fuck Megan tonight, you don't mind, do you?' He'll really go for
that!" Megan huffed.

"Oh, fuck you, bitch," Angela snapped.

"Fucking slut!" Megan shot back.

"Cunt licker!" Angela retorted.

"Cock sucker," was Megan's next shot.

"Dyke bitch," came Angela's invective.

"Hypocrite!" Megan replied.

"I love you," Angela said.

"Me too," Megan replied.

They kissed each other tenderly, and lay down, gasping for air. They fell
asleep, holding each other tight. As the late morning sunlight streamed into
their room, Megan woke Angela by softly kissing her face and neck. They
stretched lazily, and rubbed their young bodies together.

"I do love you, you know that, don't you?" Angela murmured.

"Me, too," Megan replied. "Want to take a shower together?"

"Isn't your mom home?" Angela whispered.

"Yeah, you're right. Want to make love?" Megan whispered back.

Oliver walked into first period a new man. Jackie Fontenot had been absent, as
he and his parents were in Brother Richard's office, trying desperately to
avoid an expulsion. Under strict probationary status, he stormed into Brother
Thomas' class for second period. Oliver Collings came in, and he waited for the
right moment, then stuck his foot into the aisle. Oliver stepped squarely onto
the expected foot, and put all of his weight on it.

"Aiiee!" Jackie screamed. "Get off my foot, ass hole!"

"Keep your foot out of my fucking way, you cock sucker," Oliver snarled, and
walked to his seat.

He brushed the thumbtack off of the seat, and sat down. Jackie glared at him
and nursed his sore foot. He looked around the room, for some support from Tim,
or Gary, but they seemed to be avoiding his eyes. The room was strangely silent
that morning.

Brother Thomas walked in and called roll.

"Collings, Oliver," he intoned.

"Here, Brother," a young man's voice called out.

Brother Thomas looked up. In the past, the name 'Collings, Oliver' had always
elicited an annoying croak. This was a strong, clear voice. He looked at the
thick glasses, the face and the body were the same, but the boy was sitting up
straight. He was smiling.

"Cutter, Timothy," he called.

"Here, Brother."

The wedding was held on a crisp Saturday morning in March. Oliver looked so
handsome in his gray morning suit and top hat. The wedding guests laughed when
Cecil Collings said proudly, "We do!" and hugged his son's shoulders. A smiling
Oliver nodded assent. Angela sat in the first row, with Cecil's mother and
father, and two sisters. She felt her pussy get wetter and wetter as she
imagined her and Megan standing at the altar, and saying "We do!" to Oliver.

THE END.

This story is part of White_Shadow's_Nasty_Stories.
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