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*Author’s Note: Any persons engaging in sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.
Mary Farmer sat out under the oak tree and ate her peanut butter and apple jelly sandwich. In the August heat, she would have preferred to eat inside, in the school cafeteria, but had learned on her first day at DeGarde High School that there was nowhere for her to sit.
“Get lost, nerd girl.”
“Um, excuse me, this is the senior table.”
“Sorry, saving those seats for my friends.”
She sat out under the oak tree on sunny days. On rainy days, she sat under the awning of the gymnasium. On bitterly cold days, she would go inside the gymnasium and sit on the bleachers.
It wasn’t her fault she was weird, an oddball. She was the product of a loveless marriage between a drunkard father and an overly religious mother. Her father often caved in, let her mother run the household.
Their religion forbade the cutting of women’s’ hair, or the wearing of make-up, or of exposing any flesh. Her dresses went from her throat to her ankles, her brown hair hung down to mid-calf.
Standing at four feet, eleven inches, if her odd manner of dress had not earned her ridicule, her short stature would have.
She pushed her large glasses up her button nose and smiled; Jack Rogers and John Ridgelow had obviously finished their lunch early and were outside throwing a football back and forth. She sipped her water and watched the two eighteen-year-old boys.
Her heart did a little flip-flop; Thomas ‘Tank’ Kowalski came outside and intercepted a pass intended for John.
He was the handsomest boy she knew. He was also the biggest boy she’d ever seen. He stood at six feet, six inches and tipped the scales at three hundred pounds. ) Once, she’d seen in without a shirt on and nearly swooned; his muscular chest and washboard abdomen fueled her masturbation fantasies ever since then.) He kept his brown hair cut short, instead of following the trend of long, straggly, greasy looking hair, and he dressed neatly; his pants weren’t hanging off of his hips, his shirttails weren’t hanging out.
Whenever he smiled, his blue eyes would crinkle up, and his lips would part, showing his white teeth.
“Give me the ball, bitch,” John demanded and Tank just laughed and tossed it back to Jack.
Her smile faded; the cheerleaders were outside too. Of all those that tormented her, they were the worst.
There was Peggy Morrison. At five foot eleven a lot of people said she would have a career as a model. Mary didn’t think she was very pretty; her face was hard, unfriendly. Most of the male population of DeGarde High School, most of the males of DeGarde, Louisiana would disagree with Mary. Her long blonde hair, hazel eyes and pouting lips got their attention, got their blood boiling.
Then there was Amber Waterson. No one kidded himself or herself; Amber wasn’t pretty. She had a voluptuous body, and was willing to fuck anyone, male or female, so long as they were popular and that was the only reason the pig-faced girl was popular.
Mindy Laporte was the third cheerleader outside. She was just as short as Mary, was very slender like Mary, but there the similarities ended. She kept her blonde hair styled in the latest fashion, slathered on a pound of make-up, and dressed in extremely revealing clothing.
She was Jack Rogers’ girlfriend and was quite vocal about the things that they did when they went out to Huvall’s Levee, the local make-out spot.
The other two cheerleaders, Britney and Tiffany Wertmuller, obviously had enough sense to stay indoors, stay in the air-conditioning.
Mary looked at her watch, an eighteenth birthday present from her daddy, and sighed. It was almost time for Chemistry class. To get to her locker, she would have to walk right by the cheerleaders, would have to endure their taunts. With a final glance at Thomas, she gathered up her lunch bag and water bottle and got to her feet.
“Oh Mary,” Peggy called out. “I just love your dress! Very fashionable! For the eighteen hundreds!”
“How do you fuck in that get-up?” Amber sneered.
Mary blushed hotly, but did not respond, just kept walking toward the corridor.
Grace Breaux came out of the corridor and roughly shoved Mary aside.
“Oh, I am so sorry, Holy Mary,” she sneered. “Will I go to Hell for that?”
Mary had earned the nick-bane ‘Holy Mary’ by committing the grievous faux pas of blurting out ‘That’s a sin!’ when two of the popular girls were discussing a third girl’s lesbianism. The moniker fit her overly religious upbringing so it stuck.
Mary blinked back the tears that threatened to spill out, pushed her glasses back up and made her way to her locker.
Tank frowned darkly when he saw his girlfriend shove Mary. He didn’t really know Mary all that well, even though they were in many of the same classes, both being Straight-A students, but was sure that the diminutive girl had done nothing to deserve physical abuse.
He was no stranger to physical abuse; his Maltepe Escort father was a hard-drinking police officer, who thought the best way to get his point across was with a punch to the face. When his two sons got too big for that, he switched over to verbal abuse. Sometimes words hurt more than fists do.
Grace Breaux wasn’t the most attractive girl in DeGarde High School, but at six foot two, it just seemed destined that she and Tank would hook up. Her bushy brown hair, broad nose, and mean little eyes earned her no long line of admirers. But as Tank pointed out to Jim, his older brother, ‘She sucks dick.’
The bell rang and Tank raced to his locker and grabbed his Chemistry book. He ran to the class and sat down in one of the few available seats. He flipped his notebook open and began to scribble.
He shook his pen and tried it again. Nothing. He searched his pockets for another pen, but there was none.
“Need this?” a squeaky voice asked and he looked to see a small hand holding out a well-chewed pencil.
“Thanks,” he smiled and Mary’s heart stopped for a moment.
“Uh, uh, Miss Farmer, think you could wait to uh talk to your uh boyfriend after class,” Mr. Cousins stammered, earning him the laughter of the rest of the class.
Tank looked at the small girl, head hung in shame, face beet red from embarrassment and looked at the smirking teacher, basking in a rare bit of popularity.
“You miserable old fuck,” he bellowed and stood up. “She was loaning me a pencil, all right? Want to embarrass someone, why don’t you try me, huh?”
“Uh, uh, Mr. Kowalski, uh, uh, maybe you should be uh better prepared for my uh class,” Mr. Cousins stammered, very frightened.
He opened his desk drawer and felt around for the can of pepper spray.
“Uh uh, maybe you should uh uh bite me,” Tank sneered.
“Thomas, please sit down,” Mary begged.
“Tank looked at her, eyes pleading with him and felt his anger dissipate. He nodded his head and sat down.
“Uh, there’s no uh need for profanities, uh Mr. Kowalski,” Mr. Cousins stammered.
“Whatever,” Tank sneered.
At the end of class he smiled at Mary and handed her back her chewed up pencil. She smiled back and quietly gathered up her books.
He ran to his locker to pick up a pen and his Western Civilization History book, and then ran to class. He slipped into a vacant seat just as Mr. Boudreaux was beginning roll call.
“Ah, how nice of you to join us, Mr. Kowalski,” Mr. Boudreaux intoned.
“Oh, sure, sure, wouldn’t want to miss my nap time,” Tank smiled.
It was a running joke between the student and teacher; Tank had actually fallen asleep in one of Mr. Boudreaux’s classes back in his freshman year and the teacher enjoyed ribbing him about it.
“Need this?” Tank heard a squeak and looked over to see a well-chewed pencil being offered to him.
“No, thanks, got my own,” he smiled and showed Mary his pen.
Brace’s eyes narrowed to mean little slits.
“Want me to leave so you two can be alone?” Mr. Boudreaux asked.
“Hey, would you?” Tank smiled. “That’d be great!”
“Shut up, Mr. Kowalski,” Mr. Boudreaux smiled, finished calling the roll and launched into the lecture on Grecian influences on modern culture.
Grace wasn’t sure what her man and that little Holy Roller were smiling about, but she vowed to put it to a quick end. Tank was her man; no little bitch that dressed like a farmer’s wife was going to steal him away.
Mary was putting her books away when Grace and Amber and Peggy and Mindy came around the corner.
“Hey, bitch,” Mary heard and turned around just as Grace reached out to shove her backward.
“Stay the fuck away from Tank, hear?” Grace snarled, pushed Mary backward again, and to back up her threat, flicked open her switchblade knife.
Mary felt physically ill and fought the urge to urinate as Grace waved the point of the sharp knife millimeters from her face.
Hear?” Grace snarled.
Behind her, Peggy and Mindy giggled. Amber looked a little sick herself. Grace closed the blade, stuck it in the back pocket of her jeans and sauntered off.
Mary gathered her books and looked around to make sure the coast was clear before dashing to the bus. She found an empty seat and nervously looked around to make sure that Grace wasn’t lurking around.
Football practice was a disjointed effort and finally Coach Benoit dismissed them. Tank joined the five other males that did avail themselves of the showers.
“God damn, is that a dick or an elephant trunk?” Carter McDonald asked.
“Elephant trunk,” Jack laughed. “That’s why Tank doesn’t like peanuts; damned thing keeps shoveling them up his ass.”
“Hey, I don’t look at your little pee-pees, don’t be looking at my dick, okay?” Tank grumbled.
He hated being such a big guy. He hated not being able to buy the latest fashions, hated always being the object of gawking, even fear, especially among children. Anadolu Yakası Escort He couldn’t help it; his father was large, and so was his mother.
He envied his older brother, Jim. Jim was of average height and weight, could buy his clothes off the rack and as a result always looked good.
He dried off and dressed in shorts and tee shirt. Leaving the gym, he sighed. Grace leaned against his battered pick up truck, waiting for a ride home.
He wished she had gotten a ride with one of her friends. He wasn’t in the mood to listen to her complaining about whatever she felt like complaining about, or her caustic and biting remarks about their fellow students or teachers.
She seemed to be horny, though and was pulling his cock out of his shorts before he even had the truck in gear. That meant she’d had a fight with someone; fighting always made her horny.
At least he wouldn’t have to listen to her ugly comments while she had a mouth full of his meat.
She unzipped her pants and frantically rubbed her pussy while sliding about four inches of his cock into her mouth.
“Uh, here, uh! Here it comes!” Tank grunted and began to spurt heavily into her mouth.
She took it all, then sat up and rolled down the window of his truck and spat out the mouthful of his semen. She spat several times and he sighed. That always left him feeling more disgusted than satisfied; the thought that the taste of him was so repugnant to her. She sat back and lighted a menthol cigarette.
“So, um, what was that shit between you and Holy Mary?” she spat and blew a stream of the cigarette smoke in his direction.
“What shit?” he asked and waves the smoke away.
“In History class,” she shrilled. “Don’t act all fucking innocent! You two all buddy-buddy with each other!”
“Nothing!” he yelled. “I needed a pencil in Chemistry class so she loaned me one. She was just asking if I needed it again, that’s all!”
“Oh,” she said, mollified.
Then she let a mean little giggle escape. He was suspicious of her giggles; Grace was not a happy and giggly girl.
“What?” he asked.
“Nothing,” she smirked. “But you should have seen that little bitch’s face when I whipped out my blade on her!”
“What?” he asked, incredulous?
“Yeah,” she laughed, blowing out more cigarette smoke. “Fucking looked like she was going to shit on herself!”
Tank slammed on the brakes, skidding to a stop on Highway 27. Grace had to put her hands out to brace herself. A car that was following too closely had to slam on its brakes to avoid plowing into the rear of the truck and the driver blared his horn. Tank stuck his hand out the window, middle finger extended.
“Get out,” he ordered.
“Jesus Christ! What the fuck’s your problem?” Grace yelled.
“Are you deaf?” he screamed. “Get out!”
“Oh fuck you, drama queen,” she said and tossed her cigarette out the window.
“Get the fuck out of my truck, now,” he bellowed and flung open her door.
Grace knew better than to argue with him when he was in this kind of mood so she gathered her book bag and purse and got out of the truck. Tank slammed on the accelerator and sped off. He turned the next corner and reached over and slammed the door shut. Then he sped away again.
Grace sat on the side of the highway and lighted another cigarette.
Peggy felt great. She sucked on the killer joint that Fred had sold to her and Amber for a blowjob from Amber. Amber lay between Peggy’s legs, sucking and slurping on Peggy’s heavy pussy lips. Peggy held the smoke in until giggles racked her body. She laughed out loud and pushed Amber’s sucking mouth away from her.
“Hey, bitch!” Amber complained and reached out for the joint. “God damn, going to Bogart the whole fucking thing?”
“Aw, jeez, here, whiney cunt,” Peggy sneered and handed the joint to Amber.
“Damn, next time YOU suck your brother’s dick, bitch,” Amber groused and took a mammoth hit off of the joint.
“I suck his dick, ain’t going to be for no fucking joint,” Peggy sneered.
Peggy got the giggles again.
“Did you see that little bitch’s face when Grace whipped out her blade?” Peggy giggled. “I thought the little bitch was going to piss on herself!”
“Uh huh,” Amber said, the buzz leaving just as quickly as it had come.
She was afraid of Grace and was deathly afraid of what Grace would do if she ever found out that she had fucked Tank one night when Grace was out of town.
Tank and she had drank a whole fifth of vodka, had made out for a couple of minutes, then Tank unzipped his jeans and pulled out the biggest cock Amber had ever seen. He liked her hairless pussy and even put his mouth on it and licked and sucked her to orgasm; a very rare thing. Most guys just shoved her on her back, thrust it in, and then left.
The alcohol was killing his ability to come and he grew more and more frustrated. She was beginning to get dry and started complaining.
Tank slapped her, hard, pushed her Ümraniye Escort over onto her belly and jammed his cock into her unprepared rectum. She screamed bloody murder, begging him to pull it out.
He finished, pulled his slimy cock from her bowels, and used her blouse to clean his cock off. With another slap to her tear streaked face, he left.
She had never come so hard as she did that night. But Tank had been so disgusted with himself, he swore off of alcohol from that time forward, and never let Amber get him alone again.
Grace would not be too quick to forgive and forget so Amber kept her mouth shut.
“Where you going?” Peggy said and spread her legs wide, invitingly.
“Home,” Amber said and pulled her jeans on. “Shipload of homework, you know?”
Fred pretended to be fascinated by something on ESPN when Amber came walking through the living room.
“Hey Fred, that’s some killer shit,” Amber said and Fred just nodded his head.
“Let you fuck me for three of them, huh?” Amber said, smiling what she thought was her sexiest smile.
“Don’t think so,” Fred sneered and Amber’s face fell.
Mary let herself into the rent house she and her parents lived in. She quickly began to fix dinner for the three of them; that was her job. Mama fixed breakfast and packed her lunch; Mary did the dinner. Daddy’s job, Mary liked to tease him, was to get fat.
Mary adored her Daddy and adored her Uncle George. Uncle George owned the house they lived in and Daddy worked at Uncle George’s garage.
Mama didn’t seem to be very fond of Daddy, or of Uncle George. In fact, she seemed to be very resentful of both of them.
Mary put the leg quarters into the cast iron skillet and quickly chopped the bell pepper and onion while the chicken hissed and spattered. She turned the pieces over then scraped the onion and bell pepper into the pan.
He had smiled at her. He had sat down next to her in Chemistry class (she wanted to squeal when he did that) and then stood up for her against that odious little Mr. Cousins. When he sat down next to her again in History class, he had smiled at her. When Mr. Boudreaux had made that joke about leaving them alone (Oh, what she’d love to do if she ever did get to be alone with Thomas!) instead of acting all irritated, Thomas had smiled.
She carefully added the chicken broth, making sure not to get any grease spatters on her clothing, lowered the heat and covered the pan. Then she raced down the hallway to the bathroom.
They’d be so surprised to find out that ‘Holy Mary’ masturbated just like they did. They’d be so surprised to find out that she had normal urges, normal lusts and desires just like they all did.
She locked the door and dropped her panties to the floor. She found her hairbrush and got the handle good and wet with her saliva. Hiking her long skirt up to her waist, she reached behind her and jammed the handle of the hairbrush into her rectum.
She’d been in the locker room, getting dressed for their Physical Education class when she overheard Peggy and Britney giggling about Amber having trouble walking that day. They said it was because one of the football players had stuck his manhood into her backside. (No, those weren’t the words they’d used; the words they’d used were so vulgar she almost vomited.) At first, she’d been horrified that anyone would even perform such a profane, offensive act. By the time she’d gotten home, though, her own backside tingled with the thought of it. She’d gingerly slid a finger into her rectum while feeling for her button and had nearly fainted from the force of the orgasm.
Now, she regularly incorporated anal stimulation in her nearly daily masturbation sessions.
“Uh!” she groaned out when her fingers found her throbbing clitoris.
“Uh!” she cried out again as she pinched her clitoris, while sliding the hairbrush handle in and out of her rectum.
Slowly she pulled the hairbrush out and washed it clean, then washed her hands and pulled her panties back on.
She always felt so guilty after masturbation; the Bible said it was a sin. It also said it was a sin to lust after another person, unless you were married to them.
Oh, she would love to be married to Thomas; she would give him as any children as she could. There was only one way to have children that she knew of and she would love to procreate with him.
Grace came to the conclusion that Tank wasn’t going to calm down and return for her, so she got to her feet and started walking the three miles to her house.
Amber saw a familiar figure on the side of the road and slowed down.
“Hey, thank God you came by when you did,” Grace said and got in. “I been out here for about an hour (It had been less than fifteen minutes); Tank blew a fucking gasket when I told him I almost fucked up his little girlfriend there.”
“Uh huh,’ Amber said and then turned up a song, even though she hated ‘How To Save a Live.’
“Yeah, believe that shit?” Grace yelled. “Tells me theater ain’t shit going on, but he’s too quick to get all bent out of shape, you ask me.”
Amber pulled up in front of Grace’s house. Grace looked over, horny again from her fight with Tank.
“Want to come in? Got some killer shit from Fred,” she asked.
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