The Memoirs

Shayla had never really noticed the bus stinking before. But it did. It didn't help that they went home at the end of the day in the same bus as a single, sweaty, hot and smelly mass of people with the rule of putting the windows up before getting off.

The bus seriously needed to be aired out.

But in the scheme of things? She didn't notice. Not when she was sitting beside Pete.

Whitney was lounging in his seat beside Chloe. The smell? Didn't bother him. These people should be on the football team's bus after a game. He had his arm around her shoulders, feet pulled up and knees resting on the back of the seat as he kicked back.

The sun was shining, there was a nice cool breeze, and a bright silver Porsche leaving them in the dust.

Chloe was fighting not to gag. Really. She was having the worst. Possible. Time. She was expected to work. HELLO! Did she look like the type of girl who worked? No. She worked on the Torch, and that was it. This whole... digging and pulling and laying and she had cuts and scrapes and her nails? Ruined. She couldn't show her face at prom with them like this. Ugh. Gag. Ack. Yuck. At least she had a month and a half to TRY and grow them out again.

So she just fought to keep her orange juice in her belly as she crossed her legs and glared at her lover. He was...entirely too comfortable with this. Plus, the whole thing with it being warm now? And boys for some reason not liking to bathe? Yeah. The air was funked.

She peered at Shay, right across the aisle from her, and pointed at the quiet snores coming from the front of the bus, where Clark was passed out asleep. It was about a forty five minute bus ride, to get everyone and stuff, and she just rolled her eyes and lifted her bruised leg to give Clark's foot, hanging in the aisle, a poke.

Pete hadn't said much or anything since the day before. Quiet noises, a few soft words, but he was mostly quiet, looking out the window... and trying to be companionable to his friends where he could. Always nice to Shayla, always, even as his dark thoughts swam.

And a rumpled head came up, with half crossed eyes and sleep ridden hair, and Clark blinked at all of them.

Shayla sat on the end of the seat, protecting Pete from nosy people, at least in her eyes, as she glared at all of them. Stupid people. She giggled at Clark's snoring, and nearly hung over the seat to tease him. But, she didn't, instead just waving when he woke up and blinked.

Whitney just rolled his eyes. "Late night, buddy?"

"Urhmph." He muttered, rubbing a hand through his hair, across his face, and yawned hard, setting his chin on the back of the seat to Pete and Shay, who were right behind him. "Mmmmleepy. Stayed up'n watched TV."

Chloe gagged again, held her nose, and spoke through it, though it was nasal and muffled. "So dat's what dey're callin' id dese days."

Shayla poked his nose as he blinked again. "Sleepyhead. No fair. Life of leisure," she teased. "We should all be able to stay up late and watch TV." But even as she teased, she left her hand sitting on Pete's leg, giving it a gentle, supportive squeeze.

Whitney laughed at Chloe's comment, not bothering to strangle the snort.

Back of her hand thwumped her lover in the chest.

"Mmmm. Took'a blubble baff, watched t'v." Clark muttered, yawning as he tugged his legs up close. He'd foregone jeans and gone straight into comfortable work pants he could move around in, and a blue t-shirt. Little ripped, little worn, but hey, it was the most comfortable when he had to work all day. And he kissed the tip of Shayla's finger. "No sex, stupid innuendo Chloe."

"I domt mbake innooendo's!" Chloe declared, and shuddered as she got a whiff of stinky male and female bodies packed like sardines and did people not KNOW the glories of washing their asses? Hello. Took TEN seconds. Ugh and it disgusted her.

Pete covered the hand on his leg with his own, carefully squeezing it and turning his palm up so their fingers would link for a moment. She wasn't ready for these things so he squeezed and let go, shifting as he did it.

And she chased. Shayla shifted, too, her hand finding Pete's again, and lacing their fingers tightly together, squeezing gently but firmly as she grinned up at Clark. "Maybe you wanna suggest to Lex that he hose the bus out while we're working today?" she asked hopefully.

"No sex? Where's the fun in that? Gettin' laid's the best part of the night." And then, about two seconds after it left his mouth, he realized what he'd said and whom he'd said it to. "Just... go ahead and kick my ass."

Chloe smacked him in the chest, again, and another in the arm, glaring at him but it was so obvious she was amused, though she tried to keep her glare as her lips twitched.

Clark just snickered, and his brow came up as he gave Whitney a startling clear picture of their sex from the day before, when he'd been Chloe and vice versa, and just what they'd been feeling. And yeah, Whitney was impressively built. So he snickered, innocently, and said, "Try and hide that, Fordman."

Whitney growled. "Clark Kent... don't make me have to kick your attractive little ass." He tried very, very hard not to think about the sex and to ignore the picture in his head but it wouldn't go away.

And neither would the interest his cock was currently showing in the proceedings.

"You know you liked it." A smirk as he pressed his back against the side of the bus, looking out the window over his shoulder. His lover's Porsche was already parked as they entered the work site, the four other buses just parking, and Dominic's little Jag was sitting quietly beside Lex's, deep blue like midnight and lovely. He sighed, in the pure male pleasure for a well built car, and heard Pete do it behind him too as they came to a stop.

Chloe....noticed her lovers reaction and wondered just what Clark had done, her eyebrows perked as her fingers kept her nostrils closed, peering at her lover and letting go of her nose to get her things and... run her fingers down where she shouldn't have. "Ten minutes. The houses on Cedar Grove, the finished ones."

Lex was leaning against the side of his car, looking at his watch and raising his eyes to the bus, just waiting for Reynolds to drag his ass off the buss for a little word of prayer.

Whitney gave a little moan as her fingers scraped over his cock. "Won't quite take... ten minutes if we hurry," he muttered.

"Yes, you will. Because you're still in trouble, and if you come before I tell you, I'll punish you." Chloe whispered into her boyfriends ear, as she got up and wound an arm around Shayla's.

Big yawn and Clark shuffled off the bus, coming down the steps and peering up at the light as he grabbed a belt and hat from the big table laden with them, and oh, his baby was there. Yeah. Big beam at him, a wave, and he was caught with the rest of the teenaged cattle in the herd as they all pushed towards the site.

Pete carefully lifted two hats, one for himself an d one for Shay, and he handed it to her as he put his own on his head. His hand was healing, already sealed and it had stopped bleeding, thank God. Wasn't too worried about it, though, as things went, an he stretched softly as he followed the crowd.

Shayla didn't let go of Pete's hand even as Chloe wrapped an arm around her waist. Instead, she balanced the hat until she got it on her head, then reeled Pete in a little closer to her as she grinned up at Chloe.

Lex returned the grin and wave with a smile of his own and a raised coffee cup in salute, and then shook his head when she Chloe and Whitney's heads together. Whitney shuddered, which was never a good sign, and for a moment, he felt sorry for him.

Chloe all but felt the pity and she looked up, and she was too little. Couldn't see over the crowd, so she lifted her hand in a flipping the bird salute to her favorite bald billionaire over the crowd, and grasped her lovers hand, flouncing off.

The thing was, here, is that Pete didn't know how to act. He... he and Shayla were together, but weren't, and as much as he needed her, he couldn't think about her not… being with him all the way. Because they weren't. Things were strange right now, and different, and he didn't know how to act anymore. So he just squeezed Shayla's hand and kept her close to him, even as they began to walk towards their stationed area for the day.

Lex chuckled as a distinctively-clad Chloe Arm rose and flipped him off, and then he put his coffee cup down as he saw Reynolds getting off the bus.

Shayla felt the uncertainty, from Pete and herself both, but she didn't let it stop her. Instead, she just held his hand as tightly as she could. "I called Clark first thing this morning, he had Lex check the work orders so we could work together," she said quietly.

And he did. Clad in his black clothes--black jeans and a dark t-shirt, and Reynolds slipped his sun glasses onto his nose as he got off the bus, slipping into his black jacket as he got out his clip board and started marking things off as he stepped off the bus.

Lex pushed his own sunglasses up and tossed his coffee cup into the trash as he walked over, shoes crunching on the gravel as he crossed the space and imposed himself right in the middle of Principal Reynolds' personal space. "Mr. Reynolds."

Joe looked up, distracted by his work, and his eyebrow elevated. "Lex. Is there something I can do for you?"

"Yes, sir, there is." Calling this man sir galled Lex in ways he couldn't even express, but he did it anyway. "Would you like to come with me, please, so we can talk?"

Joe raised his brow once more, nearly up to his hairline, but rather than argue, he followed the young man, giving a few instructions to his teachers on the way. It was cool but sunny but it didn't really matter to him, because he didn't go anywhere without his black. He carefully walked up the steps to the trailer Lex was leading him to, and watched the young man with question.

Lex ushered Reynolds into the trailer in front of him, and then closed the door. "If you'd like some coffee, there's an urn in the kitchen." Lex took off his coat and hung it on the coat rack by the door, then walked over to his desk and took a seat beside it. "Please," he continued, holding his hand out towards one of the two empty chairs.

He didn't say a word, nor did he accept any coffee. This young man had been the bane of his existence for the four years he worked at Excelsior, and he didn't have time nor patience for any of whatever grand scheme he'd come up with. However, the young man was rarely serious, and seeing him so had his eyebrow coming back up, as he took a seat behind the desk, clipboard in his lap as he crossed his legs. "Is there something wrong?"

"I'd like to talk to you about Clark Kent," Lex said, without further preamble. "Specifically, I'd like for you to stay off his back. Just because he's friends with me is no reason for you to breathe down his neck and make his life miserable while he's under your jurisdiction."

Ahhhh. So THAT was what this was about. His eyebrow stayed permanently on his hairline, or where his hairline should have been, and spoke just as candidly to Lex. "What I do with one of my students is none of your concern, Mr. Luthor. It is, in fact, between he, myself, and his parents, and if I could say, I'd like you to stay away from him. Ever since the both of you have gotten close his grades, and his attendance, has suffered. And I refuse for one of my star students to stop achieving because of you."

"Actually, Clark and I have been... close? As you wish. For quite some time. Two years now, and counting, Mr. Reynolds, and his record's been nothing but exemplary. In fact, Clark didn't begin to have problems until you showed up to replace Principal Kwan and Ms. Glover. So really, Mr. Reynolds, who is the problem here, and who should be backing off?"

"Mr. Luthor, let me make this perfectly clear. Whatever issues you have with me will not get in the way of my job. I care for the children that come to my high school, and nothing, not even you, will hurt that. Are we… quite clear?" He tipped his head. "I'm not a stupid person, and I know what you have with Clark Kent is more than friendship. However. What you are doing is illegal in every part of this country. I haven't called it in, for the safety of my students, because I thought you'd changed. It's not him I'm giving a chance, its you. If you can prove to me that his grades are going to come back up, and he is going to continue to go to school, I won't call. However. If I find, in any way, that you are hurting that young man from graduating my high school, may the angels have mercy on your soul because I will have you locked up in the first penitentiary so fast your head will spin."

Lex just smiled. "Have you checked your state laws, Mr. Reynolds? Whatever personal life Clark and I have, we're perfectly legal in it. In fact, Clark just celebrated his seventeenth birthday. Unless you are banking on the fact that Kansas law enforcement will arrest someone for being a homosexual--which will bring ACLU, GLADD, and every other civil rights organization down to bear on them--then you, Mr. Reynolds, don't have a threat to stand on." Lex clasped his hands on the desk. "Clark has had some rather difficult personal problems of late. You will stop badgering him about it, and anything else you feel the need to air, you will air it with me and not his parents. His mother is in the hospital, in fact, following your little visit the other night, and as a friend of the family, I'd appreciate you staying the hell away from them."

He barely restrained from rolling his eyes, as he came to his feet. "Still the same, after all these years. I thought you'd changed, but you still think you're the king of the world." Couldn't stand the little fucker, not back then with Bruce Wayne, and worse now with Clark Kent, as he got his clip board, and went to the door.

"I am the king of the world, Mr. Reynolds. The rest of the world just hasn't realized it yet. However, what you think of me doesn't interest me right now. It's what you think of and do about Clark that interests me. I'd ask you to cut him some slack, but that word doesn't seem to exist in your vocabulary."

"No, it doesn't." He stopped at the door, and turned to look at Lex. "That boy has a powerful mind. He'll go far. And for people like him, who I know will succeed, I won't cut any slack. People like him become great, Lex." And that was all he had to say, as he opened the door and went down the steps, back to the kids.

Lex swore softly. "You fucking moron, he already is great."

- = - = -

Pete caught Mr. Reynolds coming down the steps of the trailer and winced at Shayla softly as he turned to look away from him. He lifted the grout bucket from the ground and hefted it carefully into the house he and Shayla were working on, from the day before, and he set the bucket down in the kitchen as he got down on his knees to keep laying tile. "Reynolds looks pissed." He said softly, not looking at her as he began to spread the grout on the hard cement.

"Doesn't he always look pissed?" she asked back, just as softly as she started lugging the tile over, and laying it out in a pattern to be grouted. "He always look like the stick in his ass isn't hitting the fun spot." Then she winced. "I'm sorry."

His head jerked up and he quickly shook his head… then looked down, at the tile. "You… you don't have to be sorry. He looks like he's got a corn cob in his butt. Ever notice how he jerks when he walks?"

"Yeah, I figured he was trying to shift it around." She paused in laying the tile out and put her hand on his shoulder. "Hey. It's okay. You don't have to worry."

"'Bout what?" He swallowed and didn't look at her as he was intent on his work, scraping grout across the back of the tiles, puck marking it, and pushing it down into the grout waiting already, as he rolled it in and made sure it was firmly in place.

"Whatever's bothering you," she said with a quiet shrug, going back to laying her tile. "Cause whatever it is... it shouldn't bother you."

"It should. Its a very important part of my life." Another tile, and he pushed it on, rolling it firmly to make sure it wouldn't bubble and crack.

"Well, what is it, then?" She finished with the stack of tile she had, and went outside to pull in another wheeled pallet. Then, she crouched back down and started laying again.

"You, Shayla. Its you."

"Me?" She dropped one of the ceramic tiles and it shattered, and she swept it up quickly with the broom in the corner for just such an accident. "Why me?"

He jumped when the tile shattered, and didn't speak for a long moment, continuing to lay the tile quietly. "Because you're worth brooding over."

Soft blush that lit her cheeks. "No, I'm not. You shouldn't brood over me, sweetie. I'm here."

"No." He said it softly, looking up at her finally. "You're not here. But that's okay. Because you will be soon, if we work hard."

She shook her head at that. "I'm here now, Pete. Yeah, we got little while to go before we're where we were before, but that doesn't change that I'm here now." Her fingertips stroked his face, and she smiled softly when she left dust on his face and had to wipe it off.

He just nodded a little, though he didn't believe her, and squeezed her fingers gently in his own as he brought them to his lips, kissing softly. "I love you, Shayla Senatori."

A little soft squeal and she hugged him. Tightly. "I love you, Peter Ross. I never stopped, I don't think I ever will."

He hugged her carefully, gently, his fingertips stroking softly over a slender back, and she just… she smelled so good, so soft, and he breathed softly as he did it. "Will you talk to me tonight?"

"Of course," she said without hesitation. "How about I come over after dinner and we go somewhere quiet, like the park?"

"I'd like that." He said it, quietly. "I'd like that a lot, Shayla." His fingers came up, to stroke over the pink locks that had escaped her hair clips, and gently stroked over it as light as he could. "I hate that I did this."

She shook her head. "It wasn't just you. It was me too. My choice... to try and hide. The problem was, I just couldn't hide far enough. No matter how much I dyed my hair, I always loved you."

"Yesterday… I told you I wanted it, with him, Shayla." His throat bobbed, as he held her hand in his, gazing down at their fingers together. "I did, at first. But after... I wanted you. I didn't want what he could give me, even as much as my body did. I wanted to hug you, and touch your hair, and hear you underneath me. I didn't... I didn't want him, because the thought of losing you was so much worse than anything I'd ever imagined."

"It's okay," she said softly, brushing her fingertips over his lips. "I know you wanted it, and that's... well, not okay, but I understand it now. So it is kind of okay." She leaned forward and brushed her lips against his, all she could give right then. "But you won't lose me. Not again. I promise."

"I c… can't help it. There's a part of my inside that l... likes..." He choked on the word and looked away for a moment. "I'll push it as deep as I can, Shayla. I can't risk losing you, not anymore, not again. Being without you was worse than anything, and I'm supposed to be a man and not admit it, but I am. Because I need you to know how I love you, even though you don't believe it now."

"I know." She looked sharply at him. "Pete... I don't... I don't want you to push anything deep. I mean... it's part of who you are, and I accept that. And we'll... we'll figure something out. Figure out a way to fill all your needs." She stroked his face again. "Even when I didn't want you, I did. I wanted you to hold me even as I told you to get out." She held her arms out to him. "Hold me now?"

He would push it deep but she didn't have to know, as he brought his arms around her and hugged her as hard as he could, holding her to his chest tightly as he brought his mouth to her jaw, kissing it softly as he pulled her into the circle of his arms. Soft breasts pressing against a hard chest, the soft, female fleshiness that he loved about her as he held her close, burying his face in hair that smelled like shampoo and vaguely of dye. "I love you."

Shayla wrapped her arms tightly around his waist, squeezing him hard and letting her head lean on his shoulder as she felt him rubbing his face against her. One hand slipped up to the back of his head and stroked gently, soothingly. "I love you, Pete. I do."

"Thank you for finding it to forgive me." He said softly, as his fingers stroked through her hair, pushing it back from her face so he could cup slender jaws and gaze at her.

She blushed slightly as he looked at her. "It was because of you," she said quietly. "You were so... so sad, so broken yesterday at lunch. I couldn't stand seeing you like that, and I had to forgive you, because you were sorry."

"You're a stupid girl." He shook his head, his fingers going over her hair, her face. "Shouldn't have forgiven me, but I'm so glad you did. I'm so glad." And that... was just about as much as he could do right now, and he rubbed his face softly with his palm so she wouldn't see the tears, and he pressed a soft kiss to her cheek.

"Of course I should have forgiven you." She saw him rubbing the tears and ignored them, and when he kissed her cheek, her hand came up to his face, and she turned her head just enough so their lips met again. "I love you, dork."

He kissed her so, so softly, just a little, swallowing when she moved away enough from him, shaking his head softly as he set their foreheads together. "I'll never hurt you again. I love you, so much."

"I love you too." She rubbed her cheek against his. "You... you're so wonderful. I'm sorry I was mean to you."

"You weren't. At all. You weren't mean, baby. You were human, and had it been me I wouldn't have forgiven so easily. But that's because you're the better half of us, baby. You're my better half. Teach me how to be a good man." His palm came up to stroke the back of her head softly. "Tell me you'll go blond again, when this is done."

She nodded. "Yeah, I will. I'll be blond again soon, when we're all okay." She looked in his eyes. "You are a good man, Pete. If you weren't, you wouldn't have regretted it. You wouldn't have fought against it."

"I don't want to talk about it anymore." He said softly, eyes half closed as he watched her lips move, his fingers gentle on his neck as he set their foreheads together, letting his eyes close. "Tonight."

She kissed his closed eyes, kissed his forehead. "Tonight then," she said quietly. "I can't wait."

"I love you, Shayla."

Shayla smiled against his forehead. "I love you too, Peter Ross. The forever kind."

- = - = -

Cedar Grove was the first street that had been finished. it lay silent, paint drying, tile setting, cabinets new. The houses were beautiful, with thick vegetation and lovely extras added that could only be Lionel and Dominic's doing. They had to have perfection, and perfection she got.

She felt like a criminal.

They had snuck through the street, dodging stray workers and maintenance men, before she had tugged her lover into the first unlocked house they'd found. She'd made him clean his boots and his hands on the stoop and they'd entered the new house, still smelling like fresh paint and new carpet, and... well.

She really didn't know how it'd happened, but she found herself on the counter, her button down shirt opened and her breasts tugged from her bra for an eager little mouth. Her thighs were spread wide, zipper down and shorts tugged down enough to get to her bare core.

And she made positive to remind him of the anal beads she'd made him wear again this morning as she arched her back, her nails scratching down his back.

Whitney's mouth was currently filled with a hard, rough little nipple as he sucked on it, jeans unzipped but cock still tucked away, shirt buttons popped open in haste as he arched into her scraping nails. Two fingers of one hand stroked inside his girlfriend's hot, tight sheath as he sucked on her, the other one braced on the counter behind her.

His ass clenched around the beads as he grunted, cock rubbing against his jeans as he rocked against the countertop.

"Gonna h… have to work harder, Fordman." She hissed, pleasured tingles racing up and down her neck, her eyes dancing as she looked down at him, and grasped him by the shirt, yanking back so his hands got tugged back, and she looked down at him like a dominatrix, eyebrow raised, lips swollen with kisses, her heels pressing into his ass.

Her little walls flexed around his fingers, hard, right at the same time.

Soft grunt, loud "uh!" as he rubbed himself against the counter, and then he pushed her back further, spreading her legs as far as they would go with her pants on, and dove into her wet, dripping slit with his tongue.

He licked hard, pushing his tongue in and jerking it out, fucking her hard with it.

She let out a squeal of pleasure, throwing her head back and her fingers in his hair as she arched her hips. She was a hot blooded woman, and this man… these craving games were so fun, and she squealed in pleasure and fun, as he dove in. Christ, she loved this man, this man. Worked her hips into his mouth, over and over, before she tugged at him to get him up beside her, yanking and tugging his cock out. A hard, tight squeeze which she replaced with her hips, her core, sliding over him before he'd even finished getting on the table with her.

Whitney sunk his teeth into her shoulder, muffling his cry of ecstasy as she plunged down on his cock, his cock throbbing as he pushed into her. His hands shifted to grab her hips, hoisting himself into the table and rocking her back and forth on his cock.

She let out a cry of pure giddy glee up at him, rocking her hips as he came over her and YES! Her mouth sank down on his nipple, snagging it with her teeth and shaking her head back and forth, keeping the nub between her teeth as she sucked and wrapped her legs around his hips, beaming at him in pleasure as she arched her hips and squeezed again, rocking on the counter. One bare foot slipped off the edge, her other, with her shoe still on, linked around his hips and "Uh, God!"

Groan of sheer pleasure as his cock slid in and out of her wetness, grunting with every suck to his nipple. His ass clenched and massaged the beads with every stroke, feeling them shift inside him and nudge his prostate. Sweat popped out on his forehead as he tried not to come until she gave him permission, and he fucked her harder.

She could take him so deep now and she squealed in pleasure as she all but felt him fucking her brain, his moving, thick member so perfect for her and her fingers rushed down to her clit. With each rub her muscles contracted in pleasure and milked him for all he was worth, and she fought to orgasm, the pleasure intense as she threw her head back, ignoring the flash of pain as it connected with counter top. Squealing in pleasure, hips moving insistently under him, and her eyes opened to gaze at him in smoky pleasure as she brought him down for a crushing, hard kiss.

Whitney's tongue, still wet with her juices, slid inside her mouth as she sucked and licked. He pinched her nipples a little roughly in his fingers, rolling them firmly and tugging them as he pounded into her. His cock slid in to the hilt and out to the tip before pounding deep into her again.

Didn't. Like. This.

She shoved at him, at his broad shoulders, grasping him until they rolled over on the counter top and she grunted, gasped, sitting up over him... and sinking back down, much to her pleasure, and gazed at him as she clamped her knees around his waist. "Don't. Thrust." She whispered it and brought a hand to cup her breast, as she began to masturbate herself. Her first two fingers came down and sank between her lips, finding the tight, burning little nub, and she began to rub all around it, over the hood, as she worked for orgasm. Her core shook and squeezed as she squeezed around him, over and over, working herself to orgasm without moving anything.

Her muscles worked, over, and over, and over, stroking and tightening hard with each burst of pleasure, her thumb moving over and over and over her nipple.

Not thrusting. Nearly impossible not to thrust but the tightening of muscles around him, milking his cock, fucking him without moving and he cried out again, muffling it with a fist in his mouth as his nails dug into his thigh. He was so close. So close to coming, and he concentrated on the pain of nails digging into his skin to hold it off. "Fuck, Chloe," he grunted, body trembling with the effort of staying still.

She worked herself, up and up, and this was how she masturbated at night before she came to be Whitney's. Her slender little hair brush so deep inside, her muscles working over it, over and over, without thrusting. Hadn't ever thrust before Whitney.

She squealed in pleasure as she heard him gasping, saw him crying out and biting his fist, and a self aware, feline smile crossed her lips as she squeezed, and squeezed, and squeezed, over and over until she couldn't take it anymore, and she began to move over him, doing the same thing. Rolling of her hips, back and forth, up and down, squeezing him and squeezing her breasts tightly, whispering, "I want you to fuck me. Right...." Pressed her breasts together and her mouth came down, to suck at tight nipples and the soft flesh where breasts met. "Here."

Another hard groan, and Whitney's hands grabbed her hips, and all but threw her down on the counter as he loomed over her. "Only... only so much... a man can take," he gritted out, leaning over and biting her nipples sharply as he pounded his cock in her sheath. "Want me to do it now? Come on your beautiful, beautiful face? That what you want, Chloe?"

She would have laughed if she weren't so turned on, her cheeks flushing hard as she nodded, letting out a shrill, heavy cry as she squirmed, aching, aching for him, to feel dirty, YES! She went crazy under his hands, begging and moaning as her sheath throbbed, whimpering hard as she begged. "Please, please!"

Whitney pulled out of her sheath, crawling up her body and straddling her chest. "Here, hold them." He slid his cock in the space between her breasts, then took hold of her hands and brought them to her breasts, pushing them together and holding them as he started to thrust. Cock slick from her juices, it was easy to thrust and glide in the fleshy channel between her breasts as his hips snapped. One hand reached down and jerked her head up so that the head of his cock brushed her lips. "Open your mouth, Chloe."

Her eyes were wide and she was dripping everywhere and this was the most erotic thing she'd ever, ever, ever felt in her entire life. So dirty, so good, her boyfriend over her, looming like this and she opened her mouth on command and yeah. Who was the bitch now? Christ, she didn't care, holding her large breasts tightly around him and the feeling of him sliding was just… oh, Christ, the most erotic thing she'd ever felt in her entire life. She let out a harsh, loud moan and her lips spread, gazing at him in question even as her channel throbbed.

He squeezed her breasts tighter with one hand, cock humping harder and faster as she opened her mouth and let his head rub against her tongue with each motion. His ass throbbed; the clenching had just turned to a dull, full throb and he wanted to rip the balls out and slam down on Clark's cock and ride it until he exploded; he wanted to throw Chloe on her back, just like this, and fuck her until she quivered and begged. "Good girl," Whitney said softly, stroking her hair with his free hand.

She gazed at him in total, complete, utter submission, whimpering in her pleasure as she sucked every time he thrust. Her nipples were so hard they were dark against her white skin, her pleasure outrageous, and she let out a harsh squeal of erotic glee as she quivered around him, shaking and her knees came up against his backside to keep herself steady as he thrust and UH GOD she...oh GOD. So erotic, so erotic, crotch humping her like this and oh GOD.

He turned her breasts slightly so that her nipples rubbed against his cock with every stroke, and he cried out at the rub of rough skin against his sensitive shaft. "Gonna let me come, Chloe? Huh? Gonna let me?" He rocked forward, thrusting his cock into her mouth and through the opening between her breasts.

He KNEW she wasn't in control anymore and DAMN him for teasing her, and she screamed as her nipple scraped across him, thrashing under him and screaming again, in hard, hot spikes of pleasure, screaming around his cock as it pounded into her mouth and she was throbbing so hard, her moisture sliding down her thighs, slick and hot and she squeezed and rubbed as she sobbed in pleasure.

Of course he knew. He kept petting her hair gently, stroking hard and fast, groin slapping against the bottom of her breasts and jiggling them against his cock as he grinned at her, a savage bearing of teeth. "Gonna give me permission, baby? Gonna let me come?" His free hand left her hair and pinched her nipple as he fucked her breasts.

"YES! YESYESYES!" She screamed, begging, sopping wet and squirming and she couldn't stop, letting out a hard cry of pleasure when he pinched her just like that, screaming in pleasure as her thighs squeezed together, his cock muffling each scream of pleasure, each ache of want and oh GOD!

As soon as she gave him permission, he exploded. Hard, hot jets that covered her face, slid down her cheeks, over her lips, over her throat as his cock jerked between her breasts. As he pulled out, thin streams of come trickled onto her nipples and the flesh of her breasts, and he moved back down to her slit, lapping greedily and sucking at the wetness and soft lips.

He'd never… never come on her face before and she gasped, eyes flowing open before closing tight. Wet and hot and his scent all over her as she shook, shivering and jerking and she was close, so close so close SO CLOSE.

She let out a shrill, loud cry of pleasure as his mouth stroked over her because she thought he wouldn't, punishment for teasing him, but oh GOD and she let out a sharp, begging cry, begging for him as she reached up to stroke over the heat he'd left on her breasts, back arching as she rubbed his come into her nipples, her legs locking around him and begging.

His tongue slid into her slit, stabbing deeply as blunt fingers spread her wide and slid into her, thumb rubbing her clit as his tongue slipped in deeper and deeper, licking and swallowing and nibbling gently.

She arched and shoved down when his middle finger rubbed her back entrance, and that was just. About. it.

Scream. Pure, hot, from her soul, as she thrust her hips up, and came. All over, so hot and deep and she shook in pleasure, slamming her head against the table top twice as her back arched and her toes curled in pleasure. He was everywhere, she smelled like him and she sobbed her love as she worked her hips into his mouth, over and over and over.

Whitney's tongue buried itself in her as he felt her coming, slurping and swallowing down as much as he could as fast as he could, his hands on her hips holding her as he sucked. His cock was rising again as he licked and scraped, and his tongue slipped all the way down to her ass, licking over her entrance once before sliding back up to her slit.

She just quaked with the pleasure from orgasm, her cheeks and face covered with goosebumps and come, her eyes closed, body lose and pleasured and flushed soft pink. Fleshy and lovely, fingers falling haphazardly to the sides as she lay limp over him, groaning in pleasure, over and over, as he touched her. Nothing mattered but this moment with him, and she would have gladly given her love to do this, over and over and over with him, for eternity.

His hands slid up her stomach and her chest as he raised his glistening face, smiling at her as he rested his chin on her stomach. "Good for you too, baby?" he whispered softly, kissing her skin with soft kisses as he moved up, his tongue washing her face as he licked like a kitten.

Could barely breath, watching him as she panted, chest rising and falling and her tongue snaked out too, to follow him. Over his face, tasting herself and him and oh, God, as she licked and lapped at his face, her sheath throbbing in pleasure as her body shuddered, warm, uh. "Uhrmph." She whispered, lapping at his cheek, his stubbly jaw, as her hands rubbed the come on her chest into her skin, on her neck, her cheeks, streaking it across her skin in post orgasmic ecstasy.

"We'll need to get you cleaned up before we get caught and get in trouble." Whitney just grinned and kept licking her clean, his body spreading over hers as he giggled.

"Too. Late."

Whitney just froze over his half-naked girlfriend. "Tell me I didn't just hear the principal," he whispered into her hear, face flaming red as his hands pulled her clothing up and together.

"You j-just didn't... you did." Chloe whimpered it and sat up quickly... so very GLAD he'd licked off his come and she gasped, eyes wide, and buried her face in her lovers shoulder. Oh. FUCK. Were they EVER busted.

Joe snarled at them. Just snarled. "You have exactly five minutes to put your clothes on and come out here, Ms. Sullivan, Mr. Fordman. Don't make me come look for you." He walked out of the house, and the door slammed in his wake.

Whitney wrapped his arms around her and squeezed. "You let me take the rap for this," he said right off, straightening up and sliding his cock back inside his jeans, zipping them up and aching around the beads in his ass that wouldn't let his cock completely deflate. He tucked his shirt in and the buttons were a snap to close back up. "I'm not gonna let you get in trouble causea this."

"Hell no, with a side of no fucking way." Chloe muttered as she climbed to her feet, turning the water on and splashing her face and chest with water. Cleaned herself off and dried with paper towels, doing the same for her lover, as she got back quickly into her clothes, snapping her bra, buttoning her white shorts, and buttoning the long blue flannel shirt that was actually his but she'd borrowed. "We're so dead. Whitney, before any of this, I love you. Just remember that."

Whitney slid his arms around her waist and snuggled her in close to his side. "I love you. I won't let you get in trouble, I promise." He petted her shoulders and arms gently.

A snort at him, as she kissed his cheek and straightened his shirt, running her fingers through his hair to do the same. "We're busted. Come on." She grasped his hand and tugged it close, hugging him tightly as they walked through the house, and towards the front door.

Whitney hugged her tightly as they opened the front door of the house, and walked out where Reynolds was standing on the porch, staring at his watch and tapping the face.

Whitney pushed Chloe behind him. "It's my fault, Mr. Reynolds. I made her do it."

"Yes, I'm sure her screams of rapture were rape." He rolled his eyes and caught both their arms, dragging them gently but firmly out of the house and closing--and locking--the door of the house, as he started down the street. "You both are in such trouble I sincerely doubt you realize how much it is."

"I talked her into it. You can't blame her for not saying no to me. I knew she wouldn't when I pushed her."

"It was so worth it." Chloe sighed, dreamily, at her boyfriend, because HEEE, even if they WERE in an assful of trouble, damn. She winked at him and then cringed at the hard glare Reynolds gave her, swallowing and wincing.

"You are in no way helping your case, Ms. Sullivan." Joe grunted, and turned a harsh glare at Whitney. "I am not a stupid individual, Mr. Fordman. Please keep up with me, or I'll be forced to have the bus brought around and you both escorted to my office."

Whitney picked up his pace and fell into step behind Mr. Reynolds. "We're following you. But it really was my fault."

 

-fin-

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