by Lane Hart
Swallowing so deeply his Adam’s apple bobs, I expect him to ask if I’m any good at them or demand a free trial. Instead, the jerk simply says, “Unlimited is too…vague. I want an exact number.”
Ha! What an idiot! He’s actually going to risk his four-hundred-thousand-dollar car on a very small chance of getting his dick sucked.
Knowing the ball is firmly in my court for now, I lower my eyes to the fly of his slacks and lift a single eyebrow. “I guess that depends on how many times you can get it up, hot shot.”
“Oh, I can get it up just fine, as many times as I fucking want,” he quickly counters. “But, ah, since we need specifics, I think four is a nice even number.”
“Four?” I repeat.
“Up to four blowjobs a day, every day for three months the summer after we graduate, Memorial Day to Labor Day.”
“Deal,” I say, holding out my palm. This is going to be too easy, like taking candy from a really big, spoiled baby. “Give me your name so I can draw up a binding contract for you to sign.”
“Deal,” he agrees with a smirk as he squeezes my hand for all he’s worth. “And I’m Aric Prince. But I doubt you could ever forget the name of the man who’ll be living balls deep in your throat in just a few years.”
His supreme and utter confidence momentarily causes mine to take a slight dip. Then I remember that this…boy doesn’t know me. The only thing I’ll be blowing is him and his classmates out of the water for the next three years with my superior intellect.
Chapter 1
Maddie
Two years later…
It’s the last weekend of summer before I start my senior year and I’m dreading it more than usual as I make my way to the bus stop in front of the grocery store. My arms are weighed down with paper bags full of supplies for breakfast on the run and sandwiches for lunch. That’s all I could afford today, so dinner is going to have to be some sort of divine intervention.
Going back to school means I’ll have to figure out how to make up for my loss in income.
I’m not proud of getting paid to send naughty messages to dudes who jerk off to them, but it pays the bills and I get to stay home with Matt and Mandy, saving a ton of money on childcare during the summer and nights during the school year.
Feeding three mouths and keeping a roof over our heads isn’t easy. You would think that after the past few years of doing it, I would be better at it.
Instead, it seems to get harder and harder. There have been several days where I’ve woken up thinking to myself, Yep, today is going to be the day that all the plates I’m spinning come crashing down and social services splits up our family. It would kill me to lose my brother and sister to the system, so that’s why I keep busting ass and hoping for the best.
I’ve just lowered my four grocery bags onto the bus stop bench when movement in the back of the Sav-A-Lot parking lot catches my eye. A pearl white, brand new and expensive looking SUV practically glows in the gloominess from the setting sun – and it’s rocking rapidly back and forth like the owner has a killer sound system or someone is getting busy!
Since there’s nothing else to do while I wait for the city’s public transportation, I sit down sideways on the bench to watch the rich people mating in the wild just about twenty feet away. I can even make out the profile of the couple and their position. The guy is sitting down while she rides him so hard it’s giving the SUV’s shocks a workout.
Get ‘em, cowgirl!
Without glancing away, I feel around in the grocery bags blindly until my hand squeezes the puffed-up bag of cheese puffs. Tugging the top open, I reach inside and grab a puff, popping it in my mouth, enjoy my one and only vice while slaking my curiosity about sex.
For an eighteen-year-old-girl who has watched countless hours of porn and can burn the ears off a man with filth, I’ve never actually experienced the real deal other than a few blowies here and there. I’ve always imagined my first real time would be with an experienced man who would have me on my back while he takes me. Although, I have to say, I sort of envy the SUV woman for taking control and getting hers.
Sliding the groceries further down the bench, I stretch my legs out in front of me to slump down a little more and avoid being spotted by the couple. Soon, the woman’s screams can be heard clearly through the vehicle. “Eric” it sounds like is his name, and she yells it like he’s the king of dirty public fucking. Guess that means they’re about to wrap things up.
Not even five minutes later, the passenger door opens and a petite, platinum blonde woman steps out, glancing around toward the store’s entrance, searching for any potential witnesses. She’s so polished and prissy she doesn’t even think to look over my way at the bus stop. Wearing a sleeveless floral dress that comes below her knees, she looks like a soccer mom or PTA president.
Something comes flying out of the SUV and onto the ground beside her, a used condom maybe, yuck, before a tall, shirtless, and impressively buff man finally slips out from inside to join her.
“Oh my god!” I whisper in a gasp because I recognize him! A quick scan of the parking lot, and I spot his ridiculously ostentatious red Lamborghini hiding between a few Chevy trucks, (as if that could hide his car that costs more than most houses) proving his identity beyond a doubt.
That’s Aric freaking Prince, fellow senior, football-god, and king of the castle at our stuffy, private school. Not to mention he’s gorgeous in a way that makes women want to sell their souls for a chance to touch his thick, wavy chocolate hair. Or his six-pack abs. Who needs an afterlife when there’s heaven on earth, right? Except, the dude is a gigantic dickhead. Him and his two best friends, Blake Sullivan and Royal Fitzpatrick, think they’re untouchable and rule the school. In a way, I guess they do because they’re uber popular and their three families probably donate more to Mercy Academy than some small countries make in a year.
Wait. Hold the fucking phone.
Why would Aric Prince, the guy who can screw any woman in the world, be having public car sex with some soccer mom? I mean, from here with her back to me she looks sort of pretty and all, but based on her curves and short hairstyle, I’m guessing she’s at least ten years older than him and probably has a few rug rats of her own.
My hunch is further proved correct about her when she begins dressing Aric, zipping his designer jeans and buckling his belt like someone’s mother. Although, the way her hand reaches down and molds to his bulge when she’s done isn’t very motherly.
It’s not until Aric spins her around, pinning her back to the side of the SUV to attack her mouth that the setting sun hits her face and I get a good look at her. Shit, I think I recognize her too.
My phone is out of my back jeans pocket and snapping photos of the kissing couple while my mind races through an internal catalog of people’s faces and names until it finally hits me.
“Mother. Fucker,” I whisper to myself, ducking down lower on the bench as I switch over to video recording instead of still photos, hoping I don’t run out of memory.
That’s not just any mother. That’s Collette Sullivan, Blake Sullivan’s mother who is Aric’s best friend!
How…disgusting.
Is this even legal? Should I call the cops?
I guess technically there’s nothing criminal about what they’re doing since Aric is either eighteen or about to be eighteen and the age of consent in North Carolina is sixteen.
So, no, I shouldn’t call the cops. Besides, just thinking of how “the Royals”, as the three boys are called in school, fucked over poor Hannah Morgan after she turned in one of them for cheating is enough to dissuade me from making the same mistake.
Still, the affair these two have going on is wrong on so many levels. Aric is sleeping with his friend’s mom. If Blake found out, he would probably kill him. Not to mention her poor husband, Blake’s dad…
All this drama has the makings of a really interesting story, one I may even start writing down when I get home. I already have the perfect
title in mind: How to Bring a Bully to his Knees.
Now that I’ve hit the motherload of blackmail on the arrogant prick, pun intended, it’s time to take that cocky bastard down!
And after putting up with his shit for the past two years since the moment I stepped foot on campus, I can’t wait to give him exactly what he deserves.
Chapter 2
Aric
By the time lunch rolls around Monday, I’m still dragging. It’s our first day of school after a grueling two-week football camp in the ninety-five-degree heat and high as hell humidity. I may be a damn good quarterback, but my heart has never been in the sport. My father, the geeky, non-athletic oncologist, signed me up for the game when I was three after I threw a nerf ball with a spiral on it. Ever since then I’ve been stuck playing, and apparently that tradition won’t end after I graduate this year. No, I’m expected to go to a top ten college on a football scholarship, get the starting QB job before my junior year, and then sign with the pros.
God forbid I think of doing anything else with my life...
“Incoming,” Blake, who sits on my right at our lunch table, says. Even before we were seniors, Blake, Royal and I have sat alone at the first table in the cafeteria, facing the rest of the student body as if on an imaginary pedestal. No one dares to try and sit with us. But after we finish stuffing our faces, one by one they’ll come up to us and ask for our help with their high school drama bullshit.
The three of us are, were, captains of the football team, sons of founding members of Mercy Academy, and so rich we have the best of everything – cars, mansions, vacations, parties. Anything we want, we get.
Our first peasant to approach is Garrett Hyde, another senior who lives in our neighborhood, and is the starting running back on the football team.
“What’s up, Gar?” I ask when he approaches.
“Sorry to bother you guys, but I was just wondering…” his words trail off as his eyes cut briefly to Royal sitting on my left. “With the, um, captain position opening up, I want to throw my name in for consideration.”
I glance over at Royal, who rolls his whiskey-colored eyes and says, “Whatever.” I know he’s trying to pretend like he doesn’t give a shit about getting kicked off the team after the cheating scandal, but it’s still eating at him. So hard, in fact, that if he doesn’t get his anger under control soon, there’s no telling what he might do.
“Blake?” I ask, looking to him for his opinion.
A shoulder shrug is his response.
Turning back to Garrett, I tell him, “The entire football team has to vote on who will fill the captain vacancy.”
“Right, yeah-yeah, I know,” he stammers as his face falls.
“But we’ll put the word out that we’ll be backing you,” I add. “You should win in a landslide.”
Eyes brightening like we just made his fucking life, Garrett says, “Awesome! Thanks guys!” before he turns and hurries off as if afraid lingering too long will make us change our minds.
“Here comes your girl,” Blake informs me when Sophie Hill stands up from her seat at the cheerleaders table and bounces over toward us. She’s sweet, hot, blonde and bubbly, but she’s not my girl anymore and hasn’t been for a while. Not that I bother quashing the rumor. If the guys knew I wasn’t screwing her, they would want to know who I’ve been hooking up with for the last two years, and that’s a secret I can never reveal.
Sophie’s my next-door neighbor who lives in the house between my property and Blake’s, and she was my first. Her parents are old as fuck, retired lawyers, so they’re never home, always traveling the world. The summer before our sophomore year, Sophie and I spent practicing our oral skills on each other until we were both experts. We fucked once and both agreed afterward that it wasn’t as good as our mouths on each other, so the remainder of our summer days we just sixty-nined each other.
Damn, those were some amazing days. But then Collette happened last summer, and she doesn’t get off my dick long enough for it to stray, not even right next door. She’s possessive and demanding and…easy. It’s fucked up and wrong, but at least I know what she wants from me. She’s not after my money or a diamond ring because she already has one. And I don’t have to take her out on dates or jump through hoops to get her out of her panties. Our so-called relationship shouldn’t have gone on this long, but it’s convenient - blowjobs or quick fucks every night I sleep over at Blake’s. So, I put up with the sneaking around and the guilt constantly eating away at me.
But I sure as fuck still check out other women, like Sophie and her petite and incredibly flexible body standing in front of me in her perfectly pressed white uniform dress shirt and blue and red pleated skirt.
“How’s it going, sweetheart?” I ask her.
“Hi, Aric,” she responds with a big smile. She strokes her fingers up and down her tie suggestively while staring at me with puppy dog eyes as if remembering all the times my mouth was on her and wishing it was back down there again. “My parents are out of town this weekend, so I’m having a party this Friday night, if you three aren’t busy?”
“I’m in,” Blake easily agrees. Royal, not so much.
“Will Hannah Morgan be there?” our grumpy friend asks, glaring daggers at the brunette sitting alone at a table on the far side of the cafeteria, having been shunned by all the cliques, even the dorks after the shit she pulled on Royal. It wasn’t hard for everyone to choose sides when his is the one with all the power, popularity, and authority and hers is something as ridiculous as ethics or whatever.
“No, of course not,” Sophie responds with her hands braced on her hips in mock outrage. “After what she did to you, she’s not going to step foot on my property again.”
“Good. I’ll be there,” Royal agrees.
“Yeah, see you then,” I tell Sophie with a wink. And who knows, maybe we’ll find ourselves in her bedroom getting each other off for old times’ sake.
I’m still watching Sophie’s ass sway under her skirt as she walks away when Blake says, “Hot damn! There she is. I’ve been looking for her all fucking day!”
“Hide your balls,” Royal grunts in response.
I don’t even need to look up to know they’re referring to Maddie Collins. Still, my traitorous eyes can’t resist seeking her out.
“Is it just me or did her skirt get even shorter this year?” Blake asks.
Yes, it did.
“No clue, but it looks like she’s still buying used shoes at the thrift store,” I point out even though I have no idea what her shoes even look like.
Blake ignores my snide comment. “I would give anything to fuck her, to bang her brilliant little brains out just once,” he groans. “Is that too much to ask?”
No, it’s not.
Maddie is every man’s sex fantasy, a walking, talking, angry Godsmack song in the flesh. I would love to fuck some of that anger out of her except that will never happen for two reasons. One, she would probably snap my hand off if I tried to touch her. And two, Blake is my best friend. And while he may screw around with every girl on campus, he’s actually been saving himself for her – the girl who hates his guts, our guts, and doesn’t try to hide her contempt.
Maddie’s been the queen of Blake’s spank bank for the past two years, since the second he saw her on her first day. The same day I made what some would argue is the stupidest bet of all time, except I’ve never told a soul about it.
Even every male head at the faculty table lifts to watch the tall, stunning redhead walk by. She looks like a porn star in her academy issued uniform. Showing how many fucks she has to give, Maddie always cuts off the sleeves of her white button down in the summer and ties the bottom into a knot at the waist, flashing everyone her flat stomach. Not to mention she has at least the top three buttons open to reveal her big tits swelling over her always brightly colored bra that shows through her shirt. Today it’s red satin, the same color as her painted lips, and the same color of my Lambo that she is still trying
her best to win in our bet.
Aw, fuck. Don’t even get me started on her skirt. If I had to guess based on the tatters, she’s still wearing the one issued to her sophomore year which barely covers her ass thanks to the several inches she shot up. God, her legs are so long and lean, like they were made to wrap around a man’s waist.
The principal should be giving her hell for the state of her uniform, but then he would have to admit to looking at her body, which is why I think he keeps his mouth shut. Not to mention that Maddie is one of the few students here on a scholarship, a fucking genius who pulls up our class’s GPA thanks to slackers like me. She could get away with murder, and the board would still throw money at her to keep her out of prison and in the academy for her stats.
There’s something about the girl that everyone just finds…fascinating? No, sexy. Like Blake, I just want to fuck her, not get to know what makes her constantly scowl at the world around her.
I’m still trying to figure out how the hell she got her long, thick, hair to stay up with just a pencil sticking out of the back of her locks and a few red strands hanging around her face when she waltzes right up to our table. Sitting her fine ass right down on top of it, she crosses her killer legs at the knee and slaps her cell phone facedown beside her.
“Can we help you with something, Big Red?” Royal asks since Blake is always tongue tied around her and I suddenly find myself a little dumbstruck by her audacity. Either her bare or panty-covered ass is smack dab on the lunch table right in front of where I eat. Her skirt is so short it has to be.
“Hello, boys,” Maddie drawls. And when I’m finally able to lift my eyes to her face, I find her smirking.
Right. At. Me.
