“Nice ass, Becky!” Marcus yelled from the top of his lungs from the other side of the school’s hallway, directing his crass comment at me.
Fucking prick. I hated Marcus. I dealt with him enough throughout high school. It was senior year, and I was still dealing with him! He was one pompous asshole. Black and lean with vascular muscles and muscular thighs, Marcus was a multisport all-state athlete, played defensive back in football, and he was lauded for it. He liked to call himself ‘Primetime’ after some old football player by the name of Deion Sanders or somebody.
Pardon my French, but it was always so fucking annoying to walk around the school, hearing everybody calling Marcus “Priiiiimetime”, exaggerating and emphasizing the word all the time. It was just my luck that I had multiple classes with him every year, and senior year was brutal. In class, he would prattle on about his conquests and brag about his ability to pull just about any girl.
Marcus often liked picking on me the most, because unlike other girls, I wasn’t a promiscuous whore, or I figured I wasn’t. He told me I shouldn’t play so hard to get, but I would just roll my eyes at him. I’m a short, overly tanned Hispanic girl with a way too big butt that causes me to jump up and down every morning when attempting to put jeans on. Marcus liked to call me out on my ass, oftentimes pinching it, slapping it, grabbing it and telling me that I should ‘let him get a crack it’.
I consistently had verbal artillery for Marcus, too. He learned the hard way that if he was going to pinch my ass, he was going to receive a slap from a demonic bitch. He liked to say my slaps didn’t hurt, or that he liked the pain, but I found it satisfying to watch his face turn red after giving him a taste of my palm. He had a distinct scar on his forehead, too, allegedly from some kind of farcical backyard boxing with his dumbshit friends. I liked to crack jokes to him that he only got that scar from fucking his boyfriend too hard and hitting the bedpost. He would always turn around and say that he and I could give him more scars if I wanted, always with a wink on his face. Fucking pervert.
It was a Friday night during football season, and being a cheerleader, I was tired by the game’s end. However, I was horny as hell; I just wanted to go to my boyfriend Jared’s house to fuck. That wasn’t an option, unfortunately. He was home, allegedly sick, and he didn’t want any visitors. He was usually a sweet boyfriend, but he acted like a menstruating bitch when he asked him if he wanted me to bring him any soup. He had this amazing girlfriend, and he didn’t want to see me? Maybe I was putting myself on a pedestal. Fuck if I know. I just didn’t care about bringing myself to an orgasm alone. Nothing beats being bent over and fucked. I loved being felt up, feeling my ass cheeks bounce off a pair of thighs. ‘Well, I guess it isn’t happening tonight!’ I said to myself.
I stood in the parking lot outside the stadium waiting for my best friend Chelsea to pick me up. It only figured that she was in the backseat of her boyfriend Matt’s car sucking his dick and what have you. Fucking cunt. After sweating profusely during the game, soiling my red velvet panties, I was feeling a bit chilly and just wanted to go home. It wasn’t a good night up to that point.
As I pulled out my phone to text Chelsea, a white car pulled up beside of me and I heard the windows roll down. What the fuck is this, I thought, almost intimidated because it was dark and it’s a bad omen to be a girl standing out in a parking lot at night wearing a cheerleading uniform.
“Becky!”. . . I looked over, and for fuck’s sake, it was Marcus. “Oh, God, what do you want?” I asked annoyed, rolling my eyes. “’Oh, God’? I know I’m God!” he bombastically stated with his usual grin, flashing his ‘Priiiimetime’ smile (what a fucking joke!). “Listen, I’m going to give you a ride home, because I feel bad as hell for leaving you out here standing around lookin’ like a fool. Who’s supposed to pick you up, anyway?”
“Chelsea’s giving me a ride,” I said. “She’s going to be here in a minute, so you can just go on.”
Marcus shook his head. “Yeah, any minute being more like an hour. Just text her and tell her I’m giving you a ride home. Besides, where the fuck is your boyfriend?” he inquired.
“He’s home. Sick!” I said.
“Yeah, sick of yo ass,” he shot back. “He’s probably at a house party with two babes, one bent over and the other rimming him silly!” he joked, again flashing his smile.
“Fuck you! He’d never do any of that to me. . . he loves me,” I defensively retorted. Fucking Marcus and his stupid ass jokes.
“Yeah, people who love each other all the time get it on with other people. Just get in the fuckin’ car. I’m fuckin’ hungry as hell after playing some Priiiimetime shutdown corner football!” Marcus emitted.
I rolled my eyes and begrudgingly opened the passenger door and sat down. From my purse, I pulled out my phone and began texting Chelsea to let her know that I had a ride, while Marcus exited the parking lot. The entire time I could feel his eyes on me. I pulled the bottom of my cheerleading skirt down as much as I could to cover my legs a bit more. “Watch the fucking road,” I said to him.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m hungry as shit. I’m going to stop by McDonald’s. You want anything?” He asked. I nodded. “Well, I’mma get you a side of a new pain reliever called the Uptight Bitch McReducer. It’s the number sixty-nine on the dollar menu!” he said with a laugh. What a lame ass joke. As usual, with all of his retarded quips, I rolled my eyes in disgust.
We took off down the road, as I sat with my arms crossed.
“You know, we’ll be graduating in seven months, and yet all you’ve done is shoot me down, never giving me a shot,” Marcus bloviated. “I mean, shit, we joke at each other all the time. We have chemistry, so how do you know we won’t have sexual chemistry?”
“First of all,” I began, “I ‘shoot you down’ because you say stupid shit. Second of all, we don’t joke with each other, or at least I don’t joke with you. And sexual chemistry? We don’t have any chemistry, but what the fuck is sexual chemistry?”
“Yeah, you shoot me down,” Marcus replied with a smirk. “If you aren’t joking with me at school all the time, then why do you have a big grin on your face whenever you joke?”
“Again, I’m not fucking joking!” I said exasperated. “I smile because other people hear what I say, and they laugh, so I laugh, because it’s funny.”
“There ya go, then. It’s fuckin’ funny, because it’s a joke!” he said with a burst of laughter. “And those people don’t laugh because you are funny. They laugh ‘cause an uptight chick is trying to insult Priiiimetime!”
“Ugh!” I grunted loudly, crossing my arms even tighter. “Just shut the fuck up.”
We stopped by McDonald’s, and Marcus ate the food that he ordered in the parking lot. The entire time, I stared out the window. Words weren’t shared between us, but it was only because Mr. Loud Mouth himself was too busy eating like a pig.
Shortly after he finished eating, we left, and he asked me for directions to my house. As I disclosed to him where I lived, he startled me with something he said.
“Look, I say all the bullshit that I say because you are really pretty,” Marcus said in a very genuine and serious voice. “I act like the way I do to impress my friends and keep my reputation as the slick, ballsy dude. But seriously, you are gorgeous, and I’m going to really miss you when school is over with, because I won’t have the same girl to joke with.”
“You will just find some other girl to replace me,” I told him. “There are plenty of other ‘uptight bitches’ out there to make cat calls at.” I had my bitch shield still turned on.
“There won’t be another Becky,” Marcus said with confidence. He slowed down with his driving, as nobody appeared to be behind us as there were no cars in front of us. “No other girl with the same silky smooth brown hair or the same blueish-gray eyes. . . oh, and don’t get me started on that smile and those lips.”
After hearing his compliments, I almost grinned, but I stopped myself. I hesitated for a while. There was a brief silence. I didn’t know what to say, really, but I kept thinking about how he would always tell me that I was uptight. I didn’t think I was, but his constant statements were drilled into my head.
“Do you really think I’m uptight?” I asked. “Be completely honest. No joking this time.”
“Honestly? You really haven’t gone out of your way to have fun in high school. You have spent all your time with that lame boyfriend of yours without experiencing life and just going out, saying ‘fuck it’ and having a good time. What’s the problem with that?”
“I do have a good time!” I said, defensively again, but he cut me off from continuing.
“You do? All you ever do is read, study, read, study. Lather, rinse, repeat. No wonder Jared used the excuse that he was sick. He’s bored. I bet you don’t even have a wild bone in your body.”
“I do so!” I emitted, unintentionally raising my voice a bit.
As we approached an empty parking lot, Marcus glanced at me and said, “Prove it” as he pulled in.
“What? What do you want me to do?!” I asked, defensive as hell, just like before.
“You said you are wild and that you know how to have a good time,” he accused me, as he pulled into a space in the desolate lot. “You are just all talk, aren’t you?”
“I have a boyfriend, Marcus, and besides, I’m no slut. I don’t just sleep around!”
“You don’t do anything. You are a self-righteous bitch that talks the talk but can’t walk the walk. You can’t handle being called out. Admit it.”
“Whatever, just take me home,” I said, crossing my arms again.
“So much for having a good time for one night that nobody else will find out about. Really, Becky? Fine. If you want, I’ll take you—“
I stopped him. “Whatever, whatever, just. . . I’ll prove it to you,” I said, as nervous as I was. I looked away and stared out the window a little longer.
“OK, then,” Marcus said. “Prove it.”
He adjusted his seat and leaned back, crossed his arms behind his head and looked at me, waiting.
I leaned over towards him and felt the crotch of his pants with my right hand, supporting myself up with my left. I could feel his growing bulge as I started rubbing his hungry cock. “I’m gonna take off your pants,” I hissed, stating the obvious. He gave me an approving glance, nodding, and observed with keen interest, as I slowly pulled down his zipper, and subsequently his pants to about his knees.
I couldn’t believe I was doing this, but I could feel myself becoming horny. A powerful spasm tore through my pussy as it tingled, emitting a trace of gooey juice as I felt it stain the fabric of my red velvet panties.
I stroked Marcus’s cock from the outside of his boxes, feeling it emerge in my hand, fully becoming erect. “Fuck yeeeah”, he softly groaned as he reached down and brushed my hair out of my face.
I grabbed his boxers by the waist and pulled them down, exposing his chocolate dick. He was big, not huge; what made me marvel at his cock was its firm thickness. I ran my fingertips up and down his shaft, taking my thumb on one side and my index and middle fingers on the other, I stroked him, wanting to tease him just a little bit before giving him too much stimulation.
I could tell he was enjoying this, eagerly awaiting my lips to meet his meaty cock. I leaned down and kissed the tip of his head, tonguing the eye, before opening my mouth and wrapping my lips fully around the top.
Slowly, I took him whole. All the way down, his cock met the back of my throat. “Oh, fuck yeeeah, yeeeah”, he said, cooing inescapable moans of ecstasy. Up and down, I sucked him hard, tightly wrapped my lips around him as forcefully as I could, gripping him with all my might.
"Oh, Becky. . ." he emitted.
His moaning was so intense, I could no longer ignore my aching twat. I was aroused to the point of no return. I relinquished his cock, leaned back up and pulled down my sweaty, pussy juice laden panties, before letting myself back down to take his dick back into my mouth once more. I finger-fucked myself, not able to handle the tension anymore. I was so fucking horny.
I shoved two fingers up my drenched hole, curving them and repeatedly slashing them in and out. I moaned around his cock as I slurped and slobbered all over him. My pussy juice was running down my legs, meeting his car seat. I was so wet that wet, watery noises emanated from my sweet cunt with each entrance of my dirty fingers.
I couldn't get enough of Marcus’s dick. I felt a droplet of precum in my mouth. I had no doubt that’s what it was. I released him from my mouth once more, admiring the mess I had created, as my spit pervaded his dick and encompassed his big ball sack.
As I returned to suck him once again, he stopped me. “I need to fuckin’ taste you”, he said, aggressively pushing me back against the seat. “Wait, let’s get in the back of the car.”
He removed his pants and his shirt, becoming completely nude, as I made my way to the back of the vehicle. He followed, and pulled up my cheerleading skirt. As I lied in the backseat, he pushed the front seats forward, turned around and leaned in, not wasting any time as he practically found my swollen clit instantly, pinching it and rubbing it in a circular motion. I was in euphoria. I could barely stand not cumming. I could feel it. Oh, fuck, I could feel it. Loud moans escaped from my mouth as he played with my pussy.
Marcus leaned in and took a big sniff. “Damn, Becky, you smell fucking good,” he said. “Ohhh!” I moaned.
“Eat me!” I demanded. He obliged, spreading the molds of my lips apart and shoving his tongue down into my quivering pussy, sending me into a whirlwind of feelings, hardly able to withhold my orgasm. He sloshed his tongue in and out of me while continuing to stimulate my clit. The power behind my inevitable orgasm hit me like a jolt of lightning. My body shook and convulsed. He didn’t even fucking let up! He kept penetrating me with his big, wet, juicy tongue. Over and over again. I couldn’t do anything about it. “I’m cumming!” I yelled, with tears of pleasure forming in my eyes, as the orgasm’s powerful spasm tore through my aching cunt. It was one of the most powerful orgasms ever. I moaned for what seemed like forever.
“Are you on birth control?” he asked. “Yeah. . . yeah,” I said breathlessly, trying to regain my composure. “Yeah, I’m on birth control.”
“Good. Now get on your knees and turn around!” Marcus eagerly demanded, as he hopped up, steadying himself with his right leg on the seat as I pushed myself up and directed my ass towards him. I was sweating, breathless, and wetter ever.
Situating himself behind me, he ran his hands all over the smoothness of my big, brown, way too big Hispanic butt. “This is what I’m talking about,” he said. “This fucking ass. Becky's incomparable ass!”
He rubbed the tip of his cock against my soaking wet pussy lips, again and again, in a consistent manner, lubricating himself with my dripping juices. “Are you ready?” he asked as I turned my head around, looked at him and gave him a nod of approval.
He pushed in, entering my tight hole with his thick, juicy, black cock. “Oh, fuck yes, take it!” he groaned, as he pushed himself in. My mouth was hanging wide open as I let out moans I couldn’t hold back. I felt my legs trembling as his meat filled my pussy completely, burying himself inside of me all the way to the hilt.
He grabbed the side of my ass with both hands and began aggressively pulling me back and forth, with my ass meeting him with each deep thrust. He did this slowly, initially, picking up a nice, rhythmic pace as we shared moans. I met him stroke for stroke, as he picked up his pace. I was fucking a guy that I hated, but I didn’t care. I simply didn’t give a shit at that point in time. I wanted to be physically dominated in every sense!
He built himself up to a rapid speed, fucking me the way he wanted. It was sex; it was visceral and animalistic. I tried keeping up with him, stroke for stroke, but he was just too damn fast. My fat ass cheeks repeatedly plopped against him with each entrance. “Take it, you fuckin’ slut, take it!” he repeated over and over again. Discharge from my pussy began shooting out and flying all over the place.
Our speedy fucking was getting to the point of being too fast that it almost hurt. Harder and harder, he packed my vaginal walls, forcefully stimulating every facet of my cunt with his bulky black cock.
“I’m gonna fuckin’ cum, Becky! I’m gonna fuckin’ cum!” Marcus let out.
He plowed me, drilling my formerly tight pussy as hard as he could. Then I felt it.
Pulling my ass against him, entering me as far and as hard as he could as I felt his cock pulse, Marcus transported his viscous white seed from his spurting black cock into my hungry, welcoming pink pussy. I felt every last drop of his jism splatter as he completely emptied his fiery hot load into the depths of my cunt tunnel.
He collapsed on top of me, allowing his peter to soften before it slipped out of my tired hole.
The both of us sweating and breathless, he cleared his throat.
“Damn. . . it took until senior year, but I’ve finally fucked the last piece to the puzzle,” he said with a big, proud grin.
“Fuck you, asshole! Just take me home!”
