Young Man's Obsession With Redhead Zee Sparks Academic and Amorous Adventures

I ran through the breezeways to my literature class with my semi-erect cock rubbing against my jeans. Although I tended to disregard punctuality most of the time, being an avid absentee from my daily courses, I didn't want to miss a minute of this class - and thanks to Becky Lowell, I was already five minutes late.
This class was important because of who sat two seats forward and to the right of me. I think you can probably venture a very accurate guess as to who that might be.

When I walked into the classroom Mrs. Beals snapped her eyes to me briefly with a look of disdain and then continued her lecture. She didn't care that I was late, she just hated anything that drew attention from her when she was speaking. I edged through the room and took my seat; I had only then realized that I left my backpack in my locker. This was soon forgotten when my attention was immediately drawn to the redhead goddess that was nearly adjacent to me.

Her jacket was neatly hung upon the back of her chair, it was within keeping of her organized nature. There was an intellectual appeal about her sweater, but not approaching a pretentious appearance. It was a lighter shade of grey and it contrasted her vibrant scarlett hair with a beautiful opposition, almost as if it were jealous and yearned to be as colorful. Her large breasts pressed firmly underneath the fabric, stretching it to the point of making the space between them quite taught. Her shapely legs were accentuated by the surprisingly tight pair of jeans she was wearing; they were crossed, and her red sneakers complimented the color of her hair. She painted her nails black today.

"The author of this poem is unknown to this day, but many scholars in the field of medieval literature believe that he was contemporary of Geoffrey Chaucer," Mrs. Beals lecture had leaked into my amorous observations of Zee.

My attention was withdrawn for a moment from both sources when I had noticed John Sachs across the classroom texting on his cell phone. For a moment my heart jumped at the thought of him telling someone about Becky and I in the locker room earlier. I had considered that threatening him with physical violence might not have been enough of a deterrent. The look on his face though betrayed some of these concerns, it was quite serious and not at all facetious.

"So in closing," Mrs. Beals continued, "each of you will have a group of-"

My eyes once again went back to Zee. The perfect manifestation of female beauty, a tangible greek goddess that carried my lust to the heavens, and alas, had remained a fantasy.

"Bryce!... Bryce?!..., Mr. Bryce Flannigan!" Mrs. Beals yelled at me. My gaze broke at once as I looked towards her with a response.

"Yes ma'am," I said.

"Bryce, do you not care about this project, poem, or my class for this matter? Because if not I don't dare ask why you decided to drag yourself away from your less academic activities, which I imagine consists mostly of screaming homo-phobic comments in the halls and flirting with girls that deserve far better," she said.

The class giggled. My focus was on Mrs. Beals but I wondered if Zee had laughed as well.

"I'm sorry ma'am, please continue," I said.

"Well, thank you for your permission Mr. Flannigan, I'm sorry to have disturbed you," she said.
The class snickered again.

With my face red I continued to listen to her - earnestly this time. She was describing our homework assignment for the next few nights and how we would be split up in groups. We were to discuss and present an essay as a group about the medieval poem "Pearl". She began assigning our teams when I came to a very grim yet elating realization: "Zee". No sooner than the thought had crossed my mind, did the unthinkable not only happen, but also in a worse manner than I had feared:

"And group four will be: Bryce Flannigan, Zahary Windling, and Johnathon Sachs."

* * *

It was after lunch, I got into my Chevelle and lit up a smoke. John Sachs?!, I had thought. What the damn hell?! I honestly did not care that he was a part of this, awkward as it would be, but it certainly wouldn't make my first time talking to and being around Zee in such a personal respect any easier. My mind's focus drifted here and there until my thoughts were scattered as if a neat pile of leaves was blown across an already messy yard.

Suddenly, my passenger door opened, Corey jumped in.

"Brycie! Dude, I heard you got a date tonight!" he said.

Fuck, I thought. How did he hear about this?! He goes to classes and cares about projects less than I do, which is quite profound. My heartbeat increased.

"So how did you ask her?" he said.

"Who?... Corey what are you talking about?"

"Amber Kowollski, I know you're gonna try and tap dat motherfucker later bro!"

I was relieved instantly, thank you Corey for being a complete and utter moron.

"Oh, dude you got it all mixed up, I ain't goin' on a date with Amber or anyone."

"Oh," he said, "well Amber said that you asked her out last week and it was tonight."

Shit. I completely forgot about that. I was planning on taking Amber out and then getting drunk somewhere. She was my hot Jewish girl side-project. I just wanted to tug on her curly hair while I disappeared my cock into her plump round ass. I was really horny when I asked her out and I still was, but I had to go through with the Zee thing. I've put this off too long and this finally my chance to talk to her with an academic reason covering up baser desires.

"Yo Corey, I'll tell you what man," I said, "how about I text Amber and tell her I have shit to do tonight, which I do, and she can go out with you instead."

"Fuck man, you mean it? I've always wanted to fuck her, but I knew you had your sights on her next. Thanks brother!" Corey said.

"No problem man, just promise me that you'll tell me all about that ass," I said to him, for good measure.

"For fuckin' sure!" He patted me on the shoulder firmly and then took off with a big smile. Corey, you're an absolute asshole, dumber than a bag of dog shit, and you're never there for me, but man, you are useful today.

As I watched Corey dart his skinny white ass across the parking lot, I had noticed Ms. Hark walking across the way to her car. She was the school councilor. She was wearing a tight black pencil skirt with a white stripe, a red blouse, and some very intense looking stilettos; she looked like something out of a 60s spy drama. Whatever the case, her super long legs (which put her at an even six feet in heels), firm perky breasts, and long straight black hair was an amazing sight. She was one of the only black girls that gave me an insta-boner too. Don't get me wrong, I'm not racist by any means, but I was always more into the paler variety, like Zee.

She waved at me, I nodded and felt the rush of blood surge through my cock. I briefly imagined plowing that woman until my balls were drained. I could almost feel my sizeable manhood engulfed in her sweet pussy juice as I filled her to a screaming glory of intense orgasms. When I had snapped back into reality, I noticed that I was stroking my hard cock through my jeans. I had to get to my final class soon and then I was suppose to meet up with John and Zee in the library to begin researching our project. My cock pulsed even more as the rush of excitement took hold.

I had another smoke and began to walk back to the building. On my way, I decided to stop in the bathroom, the same location Melvin Smiley suffered ridicule earlier. As I approached the urinal I felt a vibration in my jean pocket, it was my cell phone. The text was from Zee!

"Hey this is Zahary from Mrs. Beal's class. I asked around and got your number from your friend Jeshua. I figured I would let you and John know that I would be slightly late to the library meeting after school, I have to go home really quickly to take care of something. I'll be there at about 4:30."

Elated, I saved her number. I couldn't readily think of a response, but I pondered on it heavily as I unzipped my fly. My cock was still semi erect as I plopped the thick fucker into my hand to take a leak. As I was washing my hands, the door slammed shut and was locked.

"Becky... what a-"

Becky moved her hand up to my mouth to silence me and then grabbed my groin. The stolen janitors keys she locked the door with dropped to the floor.

"You never returned the favor big boy," she said sultrily.

"Becky, I appreciate what you did earlier but I'm going to be late for class," I said.

"Since when do you care about being on time for class Bryce? I think you're going to have to bite the bullet with this one; and you can start by biting me."

Before I could muster a reaction she undid my buckle and forcefully yanked my belt off, then she continued to unzip my jeans and lower them to my ankles along with my boxers. My hard cock snapped out, hitting her in her cute little face.

"Ow! God that thing is big! Can I feel it in me?" she giggled, right before she ran her tongue along my throbbing shaft. I shivered with pleasure.

"Becky... damnit... mmmugh... I can't right now, you bitch."

"Bitch?" she said, "Funny thing to say to the girl who let you cum all over her earlier."

Becky, she was a feral girl in a place where women seemed more like prey grazing daintily about until the strategic pounce was decided to be executed - a careful strategy with

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THE END