“I’m going to hate this,” I announced to Marisol while we quickly got dressed in the girls’ locker room. We were the last two girls in there, having had to search for our clothes which had been hidden by some of the other girls as a practical joke. Marisol was on the verge of crying because she would most likely be late for her job. I wasn’t taking the delay quite so hard, but I felt sorry for her and understood when she stormed out as soon as she was dressed instead of waiting for me. I finished up alone, pulling my hair out of the ponytail and packing my bag.
I wasn’t quite sure what had possessed me to think that PE as my last class of the day would be a good idea. The class was favored by athletes and cheerleaders because of afternoon practices, and being surrounded by girls who either ignored me or gave me a hard time wasn’t really my dream. Having Marisol there with me was a bit of help, since it meant that neither of us felt too alone. Today had been the first time they had actually played a joke on us, but the schoolyear was just starting, and the looks and comments we were given in class were bad enough.
I gingerly brushed off my jeans once more, trying to get rid of the dust they had collected while sitting on top of the east wall lockers. My t-shirt had huge spots of water on it, probably from a leaky sink, but they would dry quickly in the heat outside. Glancing around once more to make sure I hadn’t forgotten anything, I closed my locker and picked up my bag. It was past three thirty, so all the athletes should be out at practice already, assuring that I wouldn’t have any nasty run-ins. I was by no means the school outcast – although I occasionally did feel that way – but Glenn Valley High School just had such a high reputation of athletic excellence that not being an athlete seemed like a pretty bad idea to most people. Everyone was hoping that we would set a new record in state championships this year, and the athletes capable of such a feat were worshipped like Gods. There were three, first Alicia Miller, who was a cross country and track runner and also captain of the girls basketball team. Lindsey Anderson was the best softball player we had, and even in the fall when she was a football cheerleader, she was already celebrated. The third, Seth Marshall, was already being called the best athlete our high school had ever had. Having played in the football varsity for all three previous years of high school, he was now starting his second year as a team captain and, according to the local paper, determined to lead the team to a state championship. Even I hadn’t missed a football game in the last three years, although it usually meant sitting on the edge of the bleachers all by myself. I didn’t like to admit to myself that I had a bit of a crush on him, but then again, so had about eighty percent of the female population of the school. Sometimes, I thought, you really had to wonder why in the world the powers-that-be didn’t give out looks and talent on a more equal basis.
When I finally left the locker room, I ran into Audra, one of the girls I had been friends with the previous year. She had made the dance team for this year and had taken that as her cue to become an insufferable bitch, especially towards Marisol and me. She was carrying her pom pons and obviously on her way to practice, and all the acknowledgement she gave me was a look at my white shirt and the parts where it became see-through because of the water on it. I rolled my eyes at her and walked off in the opposite direction, towards the back of the school. If I went out the front door, I would have to walk past the whole dance team in their practice spot – the school’s foyer – and that wasn’t a picnic even without a wet shirt. The back door I was wanting to sneak out of wasn’t used except maybe by football players on their way out to practice, and they would all be out on the field by now.
Crossing through a freshman hallway and past the artrooms, I decided to take the longer route past the gym so I could take a drink out of the water fountain. The hallway I was in was a senior hallway, seemingly deserted as I walked through it. When I had almost reached the drinking fountain though, the door at the hallway’s end opened and Seth Marshall walked towards me, or rather, the fountain.
The blood came rushing into my face and I carefully stepped back. Athletes first, was our school’s inofficial drinking fountain policy, which I didn’t dare break. With a short look at me and a mumbled “Excuse me,” Seth bent over the fountain and drank, giving me some time to compose myself and start breathing again. I made sure my hair looked alright should he cast a second glance at me, and I also enjoyed the few seconds he was so close to me and I could stare at his perfect body without fear of being teased about it.
He finally stopped drinking, wiped his mouth and straightened his body, and suddenly he was looking at me. Not just glancing this time either, but taking in my blushing face, my wet shirt, and I don’t know what else there was to notice about me at that moment. bahis firmaları I wasn’t quite sure where to point my eyes. Staring back at him was not an option, so I chose the drinking fountain as my place of interest, wondering faintly how red my cheeks might be by this point.
“You okay?” he finally asked, actually sounding a bit concerned. I would have appreciated his question more if I hadn’t been too preoccupied with the fact that this was the first time he had ever talked to me. I managed to nod and smile shakily, looking up into his green eyes for a splitsecond.
“Your shirt is… wet,” he pointed out, and I plucked at the spots in question.
“I know. I dropped it in… in the shower, after gym class.” I mentally cursed my voice for shaking as much as it was.
“You’ll be okay though?”
He still hadn’t moved from his position at the drinking fountain, and I noticed he was trying not to look at my chest. I tried to remember what bra I was wearing, and figured that it was probably a dark one that showed though the wet shirt. I wasn’t stupid enough to look down and check if this was true, but nodded at his second question.
He finally pushed himself away from the fountain and gave me one more polite nod before turning around and leaving towards the football field. It was a few seconds before I dared to move, finally taking a drink at the fountain. My breath went ridiculously fast. I could feel my racing heartbeat catch up with it when I wiped my mouth and glanced down, realizing my guess had been right and my dark purple bra was showing under the white material clinging to it. I spent a few seconds contemplating if me having a fairly big chest was a good thing or a bad thing in this case, then I took a deep breath and walked towards the door, hoping I wouldn’t meet anyone walking home before my shirt had dried in the late summer heat.
I spent most of the afternoon on my bed, fantasizing. The more I thought about it, the more embarrassing I found the whole situation, but the simple fact that Seth Marshall had talked to me made me absurdly happy. I considered calling Marisol and telling her about the incident, but resolved to keep my happy thoughts to myself for a bit longer. I knew I was being silly and fangirlish. Still, spending a whole afternoon picturing Glenn Valley High School’s football God at the drinking fountain didn’t seem like such a bad thing to me.
Finally, my mom managed to get me out of my happy trance and forced me to start my homework. I had quite a heavy classload this year and knew that I couldn’t afford to fall behind with anything this early in the schoolyear. But even with that in mind it was hard for me to concentrate and to get Seth’s picture out of my head.
I wore a black shirt with my usual jeans at school the next day, just to make sure I wouldn’t be flashing people my bra again. I left my house twenty minutes early, and before classes started, I went to see my guidance counsellor, Mrs Jameson, to ask if there was a chance I could switch my PE class to another period. That turned out to be a mistake, since she not only considered my request an annoyance but flat out refused it. Mrs Jameson could be a real bitch when caught on the wrong day, and she must have decided to take some of the frustration out on me when she asked me instead if I would mind switching my Senior English class to fourth period.
“Why?” I asked her, and she pointed out that first period English was maxed out beyond capacity, while there were way too many free spots in fourth period English.
“So I’m looking for volunteers,” she told me, “to keep numbers even.”
“I’m not volunteering,” I protested. “I don’t like first period study halls, and that’s what you want to switch it with. And I’m happy where I’m at.”
“Well, I have to move someone,” Mrs Jamison insisted. “I’d rather you would just let me switch you now, instead of making me do it later. I really don’t appreciate your lack of cooperation, Jenna.”
I had no idea how the hell I had gotten on her bad side so quickly, but I knew that she was not beyond making her threat a reality, even if she was supposed to pick students randomly. Faced with not really having a choice, I agreed to let her switch my fourth period study hall for the less popular English class, and walked out of her office with the feeling that this could not be the prelude to a good day.
I met Marisol by her locker, and she hurriedly apologized for leaving me alone in the PE locker room the day before. I waved it off, telling her not to worry about it and recounted how I had just gotten screwed over by Mrs Jamison.
“So I’m off to fucking study hall now,” I sighed, and she told me she was sorry, hugging me and promising me I could rant more fully in Art class, which we had together sixth period. Making a short stop by my own locker, I collected whatever I thought I could waste time with and went in the direction of Sophomore hallway. Study halls took place in the old lunchroom at the far end of that hallway, and it had apparently served that purpose until kaçak iddaa our school building had been extended on the north side about six years ago.
Upon entering the gloomy looking room, I gave away the “add” slip Mrs Jamison had outfitted me with and went to sit down at the far end of the room. Not many people had arrived yet, and the few that had were napping with their heads buried in their arms. Miss Larsen, the quiet young teacher who supervised this study hall, had probably already given up on trying to wake people.
Even when the bulk of students arrived between the first and the second bell, the room lost nothing of it’s gloomy, tired atmosphere. Most students here were only in this study hall because they liked to sleep in for another hour, and those who were not still yawned once in a while and were not particularly animated. The yellowish, dim lighting in this room was not helping either. I sighed when the school building started to quiet down, a sign that classes had started, and tried to decide on what to do, when suddenly, another student came in bearing a late slip, and I forgot all about the dreaded study hall.
It was Seth, wearing sweats, looking exhausted and tired, a book under his arm and his short brown hair sticking up wet. I couldn’t believe my luck. He looked irresistible to me, and I couldn’t help following him with my eyes as he sat down a few tables away from me. Because we had real tables in this room with six people each on it, I was able to enjoy the fact that his back wasn’t turned towards me and I could watch his face if I was careful not to be too obvious. Seth was chatting with some friends for a moment before Miss Larsen asked them to quiet down, then he took his book and notes and started to read. I figured I should start working on something as well and opened a book at random.
For a long time, the room was quiet except for the occasional coughing and shifting. I glanced up every couple of sentences, taking in Seth who was still just sitting there reading, resting his head on his arm. Once, I looked up to find him returning my glance, and he gave me a barely visible smile. His eyes rested on me for a few more seconds before moving elsewhere, leaving me with a nice warm feeling in my stomach. He had probably just now recognized me from our run-in yesterday, I figured, and went back to my reading and occasional glancing up.
Study Hall went over quickly this way, and I cast a last wishful glance at Seth’s back as I packed my things with the bell. I forced myself to snap out of my dreamy state and made my way to my first actual class.
I spent the next week or so doing nothing but staring and pretend-reading during first period study hall. It worked out just fine since I did not have any homework to do anyway. However, any attempts, if you could call them that, to get his attention again failed miserably. Usually they only consisted of me looking at him and hoping for the best. I had also started to wear tighter, more revealing tops under my t-shirts when I left the house in the morning, but I had never gotten the courage to actually take off my shirt before class and attend study hall while violating the dress code. Our school wasn’t too strict about enforcing it, but I wasn’t quite sure if wearing something sexy wouldn’t just backfire and make me look stupid. In a way, I did realize how silly I was acting, but it also gave me a couple of cheap thrills to think about what might happen if I actually did get his attention one of these days.
The opportunity came the next Tuesday. I had overslept by just a couple of minutes – my mom had noticed and woken me up – and I had just missed the second bell, meaning I had to get a late slip from the office. I was wearing my usual sheer white top under grey t-shirt, but once again could not convince myself to ditch the shirt, especially when I was coming into study hall late. As soon as I had the slip of paper, I hurried down sophomore hallway and almost crashed into Seth who was just exiting the room. I dropped my late slip in surprise and apologized at the same time he did. He had his books with him, meaning he would probably not return, which made me slightly sad to see him go.
“Sorry,” he said again and moved around me, continuing his walk down the hallway. I picked up my late slip and entered the room.
Miss Larsen was sitting at her desk taking attendance, a small bundle of hall passes and notes in front of her. I added my late slip to the mess while staring down at the other papers, moved by curiosity as to where Seth had gone. This was made easier by Miss Larsen taking her time to react to my presence, and finally I saw the small pink sheet that had “Seth Marshall” and “Art Room” on it. When Miss Larsen finally smiled up at me and thanked me for the late slip, I was already set on my idea.
“Miss Larsen, I’m a bit behind in my art class, and Mrs Walsh was supposed to give me a hall pass but I forgot to stop by before class. Do you think you could still let me go?”
That, together with my innocent worried face did the kaçak bahis trick easily, since Miss Larsen was so young and easygoing. She agreed after reminding me to have a slip ready next time and dismissed me. I almost skipped away, hurriedly opening the door and walking back down sophomore hallway in the direction of the art room. I wasn’t sure if Mrs Welsh actually had class or not right now, but she liked me and I was sure that she wouldn’t object to me drawing away in one of the empty rooms. When I passed by my own locker on the way, I decided that it was finally time for me to stop being such a pussy about my clothes, and took off my shirt, stuffing it into my locker with my shaking hands. Then I took a look into my small mirror, made sure I looked okay with the short top on, smoothened my hair and took a deep breath. Then, I took the last few steps towards the art room and entered it.
Seth was the only person in it, and he turned his head and looked at me as I came through the door.
“Hi,” I said, smiling shyly, and walked past him into the storage room to retrieve my sketchbook. He was sitting on a windowsill, legs resting on a chair, working something in his hands that looked like a small patch of clay. When I had found my sketchbook and a pencil, I hesitated for a moment before walking back out. Where the hell was the best place to sit? Closer by him, or farther away? I resolved closer was better and started to walk, but halfway through the room I lost my courage and sunk down onto a chair that was on the wall opposite him. Just when I had put my sketchbook down he looked up, and when I opened it he cleared his throat.
“You can sit over here if you want to. It’s kind of boring alone.”
Oh dear God. Had he really just asked me to sit with him?
His green eyes were still looking at me expectantly, so I closed my sketchbook and got up again. Moving to the table by which he was sitting, I gave him a smile and settled down. I was still on the oposite end of the table from him, but I was nervous enough as it was.
“So what’s your name?” he wanted to know while picking up on his clay again. I had just opened my sketchbook again and took my pencil.
“I’m Jenna.” I smiled at him again, but he didn’t look up. “What class are you doing this for?”
“What, this?” He looked down at his clay. “Just Sculpture. Fifth period, you know?”
I said something like “I see,” and started to draw. I was an easier Art class together with Marisol this year, and Mrs Welsh had decided to start off the class by having us study nature; trees, flowers, animals and such. There were a bunch of roses on one of the other tables and I concentrated on one of them, trying to get it on paper in detail. I put my pencil down for a moment in order to adjust my top – which, in this case, meant pulling it down some so the tops of my breasts became visible until right where my bra started. Then, I continued to draw.
I thought I noticed him looking up a couple of times, but since I was concentrating on my sketch and didn’t dare look up myself, I couldn’t be sure. Finally, I looked towards him again and found him sitting in the very same pose he had before, apparently completely unfazed by me and shaping the clay. But then again, the bulge that had started to grow noticably between his legs told another story entirely.
“And here I thought it takes someone doing a toe touch in order for you to get a hard on,” I burst out before I could help it. I most definitely had not meant to say this out loud, and his head shot up in surprise, but then he just chuckled, either at what I said or at the three shades of red I had just acquired. He had a curious look on his face and his green eyes were fixed on me as I smiled at him simply because I didn’t know what other face to put on. Finally, he put his clay aside and wiped his hands on a towel.
“So, maybe you want to do something about it,” he told me. It took me a full three seconds to start breathing again and to actually realize the meaning of what he had just said. Then, I threw good measure out of the window and shrugged.
“What if I do?”
He jumped off the windowsill and grabbed my arm, forcing me to come after him. He pulled me across the room and entered the small, windowless storage room where most art supplies were kept. Then he closed the door and turned towards me with a smile on his face.
“Why don’t you suck my cock for me, Jenna,” he said, and that was all it took to get me down on my knees on the hard concrete floor. He opened his pants then, and I grasped his beautiful, big cock with both hands and started to stroke it. He wasn’t having any of that though, instead, he grasped a handful of my hair and forced my mouth on his cock.
I started swirling my tongue around the sensitive head right away, loving every minute of this. I was still a fairly innocent girl compared to some others here at the high school, but if I knew one thing it was how to suck cock, and I intended to prove that to Seth. Although I had never sucked a cock this big, I smoothly started to take him in, forcing my lips further and further down his pole. My mouth was stuffed in no time, but his hand in my hair continued pushing me down, so I fought with myself to keep him down there and let him fuck my throat.