The Knocked Up Lust Bundle (12 page)

So, I would feel inescapably wrong if I just offered myself up to someone—my whole life, I’ve been told that’s the wrong thing to do. But if someone were to just take me...if he were to just make me his...why, then I would be free. I wouldn’t have to worry about whether it was right or wrong anymore. It would be totally out of my hands. I could just give in, like I was made to give in, and fuck, in the way that my body was made to fuck.

* * * * *

A
few periods after history, I was in gym class.

I loved gym class. It was such a great way to show off how hot my body was. All the other years in high school, I had been a cheerleader, but for my senior year I decided not to continue that particular trek. It ate up so much of my social life, and it wasn’t like I needed it to be popular. My body, and my face—my
beauty
—did all that kind of work for me. Why waste all that time practicing and jumping and flipping when I could just have everyone love me because of the way I was born anyway?

Sometimes, I still would come to school wearing my own cheerleading outfit—with a few adjustments. I’d make the skirt shorter, and gave the top a little plunging neckline so that my cleavage was visible, and altered it so that the bottom of the top rested high on my torso, revealing several inches of my long sexy abs.

The other cheerleaders hated this. I didn’t really care what they hated or didn’t hate, though (as you might expect). It’s not the place of a queen to consider her subjects’ feelings, after all.

Gym class, for the most part, was set up as a sort of free-for-all with Coach Harris overseeing the whole operation. In one corner of the gym, kids played dodge ball. In another, there was wall ball. In another, there was basketball.

I, and several of the other girls, were warming up and stretching. They followed what I did, of course—bending over at the waist to touch their toes when I touched mine, and stretching their arms high to the ceiling when I stretched high. Good little parrots.

The gym was set up so that the coach’s office was at the head of it, where he usually sat the whole time, watching us behind his window. Our position for our stretching exercises was not so very far away from his office—and I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t planned it that way.

My gym outfit was sexy as hell—just like anything would be sexy as hell on my incredible body. My shorts were tiny and red, and the cloth was always clinging to my ass. I had on a tiny black thong—one that I put on just for gym class—that I pulled up over the edge of my shorts just to to draw eyes down to my sexy hips. My t-shirt was three or four sizes too small, especially with my tits, and I never bothered to wear a bra. I didn’t need the support, and I loved the way my boobs bounced and drew the eyes of all the boys. Why bother with a bra?

As I stretched, I noticed Coach Harris looking at me very intently through his office window. In fact, he was very, very close to the window—so close that he could have been rubbing his hard cock on the wall in an attempt to disguise how he was rubbing himself while he looked at me.

Curious, I approached him, leaving all my parrot girls without anyone to parrot. They stayed in their last stretch. When I came close to Coach Harris, though, he shuffled suddenly and scattered behind his desk.

Now I was more than curious—now, I was downright intrigued. Intrigued now, I walked around and entered his office.

Coach Harris was a large, hairy man. Burly is the word you would use, I think. He had a thick black beard, an enormous barrel chest, and the kind of thick, meaty, muscular arms that were unmistakably strong. He was the sort that you could very easily imagine riding around on a horse a thousand years ago, waving a giant sword around and lopping off people’s heads. He was gruff, and chewed tobacco ceaselessly, and had never had more than two words to say to me.

I closed the door behind me. “Hey, Coach, I was wondering...”

Papers were scattered all across his desk. He grabbed one and then another, looking very intently.

“What were you doing?”

“Nothing,” he said quickly. “Get out of here. I’m busy.”

Now I really knew I was on to something. I felt daring—maybe inspired by my little jaunt with Mr. Young earlier in the day. Mr. Young hadn’t been man enough for me. But certainly, if any of the teaching staff were to be the ones to take me, it would be Coach Harris. He looked like a viking already—and vikings made their name by forcing their wills on others whenever they wanted.

“I know what you were doing,” I said. I tugged at the thin cloth of my shirt. “At least, I’m pretty sure...”

“Well, you’re not. Get out of here. Get out of here, or you’ll have detention.”

Smiling, my blue eyes dancing with lust, I closed the blinds in his office and then locked the door.

“You’d like me to have detention, wouldn’t you? You’d like to be able to have me all to yourself for an hour, huh? Then...then you could jerk off right in front of me, and not have to hide it like you were. Isn’t that right?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, but you better cut it out.”

I giggled, pushing my shirt up my tight, teen body, revealing more and more of my sexy toned skin.

“You
were
jerking off, though. Weren’t you? You were jerking off to my hot body.”

“No. Of course not. Don’t be silly.” He stood up now. He was enormous. “You cut all that kind of talk right now, young lady.”

“Sure you were. You were stroking that big, huge dick of yours...weren’t you? You were stroking it and looking at my tight, hot butt, thinking of how you could fill it up with your spunk.” I turned and pulled up my shorts, exposing the perfect globe of my ass. “Weren’t you?”

“That’s...that would be wrong, Candice. I thought no such thing.”

“Aw, really?” I pouted. “That makes me sad, Coach.”

“S-sad?”

“That’s right. I like it.” Leaning over the front of his desk, now. He could easily see down my tiny shirt. “I like the thought of you stroking your cock to me. Won’t you do it, for me? Won’t you do it right now?”

Subconsciously, his hand dropped to his crotch.

“I...I couldn’t.”

I looked out to the closed blinds, the locked door, and smiled.

“No one’s coming.” I giggled. “Except...maybe you. Would you like to cum for me, Coach?”

I tugged my shirt down, letting him see how I wasn’t wearing a bra at all. There was just toned, tanned flesh...just for him.

“Oh god. Yes.”

“Oh good. I want that. I’m the kind of girl who wants men to look at her...so I’m going to show you my ass, now. My hot, thong-clad, teenage ass...and you’re going to cum to it for me. Aren’t you?”

Obediently, he had pulled his shorts all the way down. His cock, I must say, was enormous. It was big and bulky and covered in hair. Burly, just like him. It looked like it would tear a tiny teen body like mine apart without any real effort. It was the sort of cock you think about when you imagine yourself being taken in an alley late at night, by men with knives or a gun. It was a dangerous cock...a delicious cock.

“Yes,” he choked, eyes wide.

I bent over in front of him, and slowly started to pull my shorts down.

“Look at my ass. Look at my perfect, young, teenage ass. You love it, don’t you?”

“Yes. Fuck yes.” He stroked his long cock. I could see precum glistening out, making it wet.

“It turns you on that I’m just eighteen, doesn’t it? It turns you on that I’m sooo young, just barely legal, and I want to have you inside of me. I want to make you cum
all
the time, Coach Harris. Doesn’t that turn you on?”

“God. Yes.” He stroked harder now, faster.

“You want to fuck it, don’t you? You don’t even want my pussy. You want to fuck my ass. You’re so fucking sick you want to take my anal virginity while my pussy is still virginal. Aren’t you, Coach?”

My shorts were all the way down now, and all that was left on my ass was my tiny, tiny thong. I tugged and toyed with the straps, teasing and teasing. That really got him going. His thick arms flexing, his hairy face red as a beet. “Oh god, yeah! Yeah, please!”

“Stroke it for me, Coach. Show me how hard you can get it. Show me that you can deserve it.”

It was huge. And I had to admit I wanted it. But he wasn’t taking advantage. He was waiting for me to say okay. That wouldn’t do at all.

“Good...now...”

Just as it looked like I was going to pull my thong all the way down...I slipped up my shorts.

“Finish yourself off, loser.”

“Wh-what? Wait!”

I took off then, such a tease, leaving him stroking himself off. With a giggle, I left the door open. It was rather funny, hearing him groan in frustration and then slam the door behind me.

* * * * *

I
had detention after school—given to me by my English teacher, Miss Batts. She was such an old cunt. I was just doing the things I got away with like crazy in the other classes—teasing boys, showing off my legs and my tits. The classes with male teachers had no problems with that. I guess my sphere of influence is only so limited.

Miss Batts really, really hated the fact that I was young and gorgeous and would be forever—so she gave me detention on some flimsy excuse like my wardrobe not being school appropriate. Like, whatever, right? She wouldn’t know school appropriate if it strode up and spanked her in the ass.

On my way to the detention all, though, a student aide came by and handed me a note.

“What’s this about?”

He shrugged, gesturing for me to read the note.

It said to meet Coach Harris in the locker room in twenty minutes.

Oh, God, I thought, rolling my eyes. He probably just wanted to look at my ass again.

Well, whatever. I had a few things to pick up from my locker anyway. And it wasn’t like I could blame him. I mean, my ass was completely perfect. I had a regular squat routine that I practiced to make sure that it was round and bubbly like a girl’s ass ought to be. One other advantage of being in gym class was being able to look at all the other girls and their bodies—and I knew that I was better than any of them.

I mean, I
wanted
to be better than them, I made it a goal of mine—but it wasn’t even a contest. I knew without a doubt that there was nothing in this school that could ever stand in my way of getting what I wanted, because at the top of the food chain was always a man...and it looked to me like all the men in power just wanted to jerk off to my body.

I slipped into the locker room, pulling out the books I had left there earlier. I had to give the nerds who did my homework for me something to study. How else were they going to be smart enough to work for me once I got to college?

“Candice,” came a voice.

It was Coach Harris.

“Candice, you’re late for detention.”

He had locked the locker room door behind him. Sensing something was terribly wrong, I rushed to the side door—and found Mr. Young there, locking that door as well.

“What’s going on?” I said with a laugh. “Why did you call me in here? Don’t you know I have shit to do?”

I had made them practically eat out of my hand before. I figured there was no reason I couldn’t make the same thing happen again.

“You’re going to have to delay it,” said Mr. Young. “There’s only one thing you’re going to do in here, Candice.”

My heart started beating fast. Mr. Young and Coach Harris were both closing in on me, one on each side. They had dark, gritty smiles on their faces.

“W-what are you talking about?”

Coach Harris smiled, his teeth white through the black bristle of his beard. “Mr. Young and I, we got together, and we started talking. You know what we talked about, Candice?”

I gulped, shaking my head slowly.

“We talked about you. We talked about what a tease you had been. We talked about how someone really, really ought to teach you a lesson.”

“N-no,” I said, trembling. “You can’t. You can’t...do this. Any of this.”

“Yes, we can. We’re doing it. And you’re going to give us everything we want. Aren’t you, Candice?”

There was only one way I could get everything I wanted. I had to resist. Otherwise it would all be fake.

“No!” I shouted, trying to run.

Coach Harris caught me though, holding me firm in his iron-hard arms, and Mr. Young slapped me.

For a moment, they both looked stunned at their actions. And I, unable to help myself, let out a hot little moan, my knees coming together as my pussy clenched in lust. It was really, really going to happen.

God, it felt so good to be slapped like that.

Coach Harris grabbed my hair, tugging it back hard. My silky tendrils melded to his hand.

“We’re not taking “no” for an answer from you,” he growled.

“No!” I cried.

Yes, yes, yes!

“We’re going to fuck you, Candice,” said Mr. Young. “We’re going to hold you down, and we’re not going to let you get away.”

Oh god, yes! Oh please!

“No! You let me go! You can’t do this! I’ll get you fired, I promise!”

Just as I hoped, Mr. Young slapped me again.

“You’ll do as you say, and you’ll be a good girl.”

I couldn’t help groaning in lust as he said those words. They could tell that I wanted it now—they could tell that they were doing the right thing, but it didn’t matter to me anymore. We were all the train now—right, wrong, these had flown out the window. They were going to fuck me the moment their rough man hands had gotten on my body.

Coach Harris’s grip on my arms was so strong. I couldn’t escape. He pushed me down to my knees. I watched as Mr. Young tugged his pants down. Behind me, Coach Harris did the same, his cock sliding up against my ass cheeks. Both of them started going at me, ripping my clothes down until they were in shreds, in a pile around me. I couldn’t run out of the locker room without being naked anymore.

Tugging at my hair again, Coach Harris tilted my head forward. Mr. Young’s cock was right in front of me. Enormous and bulky. I wasn’t sure it would fit.

“W-wait,” I pleased. “P-please...”

But nothing was happening on my terms anymore. It was all them, or nothing at all. Coach Harris shoved my mouth forward and I slowly enveloped Mr. Young’s dick through my pretty teen lips, and then down my throat.