Late One By Systematic Finding privacy in a high school isn't easy. There are plenty of places to be out of sight in and around the gym, but it's too loud there. You can get into the basement if you know how, but the basement's gross. The bathroom's no good unless you want to smoke weed. I don't want to smoke weed. Everywhere you go there's something wrong; there's either people there, or people can see you, or the place itself is no good for one reason or another. You'd have to go halfway across the grounds to find somewhere good outdoors, and then you have weather to think about.
And if I wanted to go a long way, I'd just ditch school in the first place. For a lot of people it would have been a challenge; for me it was elementary.
Every problem has a solution, and a systematic approach can take you a long way if you're willing to put in the effort. Slacking off isn't easy; you have to work for it. On Fridays, the only place to take a nap after lunch is the art supply room. Careful study of the faculty's schedule and some keen observations had been needed to make that determination, but that was a small price to pay.
I put my hands in my pockets, and started to whistle as I made for the door five minutes before the bell. Better to go when there was no one in the halls to see me. There were a lot of stairs between me and the art room, but I am an athlete. I knocked on the art room door on principle, then entered. Leaving the lights off, I closed the door behind me and locked it. You could beat this lock with a spork, but it wouldn't have felt right not to lock it behind me.
It would thwart anyone who didn't have a spork. I went into the art supply closet, which was more like a small room; it was divided by a shelf full of supplies, forming a U-shape.
There was a window that let in some light on the half by the door, but the other half was just big enough to lie down in, and plenty dark enough to sleep in.
The door had a window in it, but weeks ago I'd taped up a piece of paper behind it, which I just folded down to cover it. Then I'd move a broom in front of the door so it couldn't be opened. I paused, annoyed. The broom wasn't there. There was supposed to be a broom.
I had until that moment believed that my system was perfect. I had been mistaken. The broom was a variable, not a constant. There were factors I had failed to take into account. Fortunately, the system was full of redundancies, and taking a nap even without the broom still fell well in acceptable parameters.
The likelihood of someone entering the art room was slim; the odds of someone coming into the art closet were even slimmer. I reached up and removed the light bulb as a precaution, then loosened my necktie, rolled out the blanket I kept here for just these situations, and after setting my phone's alarm, went to sleep.
As you've no doubt predicted, my nap was interrupted. I came awake when I heard people in the art room, but kept perfectly still. There were no real consequences to being found here, I simply prefer not to reveal my sanctuaries. Here was the problem: someone being in that room kept me from leaving this room, and that could potentially make me late for my next class. This was an issue I needed to consider. Wait, no I had a solution. I just had to leave immediately; they would have no way of knowing how long I'd been here, and I could put on a charade of having needed some art supplies.
As long as the intruders didn't know me, which was possible, I could sell that story despite the locked door. My nap had been cut short and that was a serious problem but now it was time for damage control. I started to get up, but froze when the supply room door opened, which I admit I didn't expect. There were whispering voices. I'm not going to act like I didn't know what was going on; why else would two people come here at this time of day and not speak loudly enough to be heard?
Besides, this outcome wasn't a complete surprise, for reasons that you'll pick up on if you hang around me long enough. I, of course, lay in shadow, on a black blanket. I'd disabled the light, so I was quite hidden. It was not in my nature to go out of my way to be a voyeur, but there were a lot of reasons that I kept still and silent, one of which I'll even share with you: interrupting these two at this point would ruin their day, and if I ever encountered either one of them again, it would be awkward for all of us instead of just me.
The shelves were full, but not densely packed. There were plenty of gaps. I took out my phone and turned off the alarm, then put it back in my pocket. I put my arms back behind my head and turned a bit to watch. I'd met the boy before. He was a Freshman, and a young one.
He'd tried out for the football team, and made it, but never showed up to practice afterward. That was for the best, because he'd seemed a little shy, and shy people don't make the best football players. He had dark hair, a trim build, and I liked him because he wore loafers instead of tennis shoes. I can't stand the people who think it's cool to wear sneakers with our uniforms. It looks ridiculous. Right now he was blushing hotly, and it was clear he wasn't the one taking the lead here.
The girl I'd seen, but never spoken to. I didn't know what class she was in, but she was at least a year or two older than the boy, because I'd seen her around last year, which made her at least a sophomore. Just passing her in the hall, you wouldn't have expected this kind of aggression from her.
She was an inch taller than he was, too. I guess she looked nice enough; she had big eyes, some freckles, and red hair that behaved if the weather wasn't humid. She was ten or twenty pounds heavier than the average supermodel, but she was tall, and it was distributed well enough.
There was some audible making out going on. The girl's hands were all over the place, and she was getting his buttons undone even faster than I could do mine.
Which was pretty fast, because I have a system. The boy's hands were settled on her waist as she gave him a mouthful of very hungry tongue, and he got a bit daring and slipped them down to her hips. She had his shirt open now, and she pulled it down. She was in a hurry. I'd seen this guy in the shower, and he did have nice abs.
Apparently they looked even nicer here in the art supply room, because we had pale light coming in through the window, and everything looks better in that kind of dim light. The girl ran her hands over his chest, pausing to tweak his nipples, which got a tremor out of him. Sensitive too; this had to be his first time. His trousers indicated that even though the girl was taking the lead, that didn't bother him.
She noticed the bulge and pulled him close, rubbing her pelvis against him. He gasped, breaking the kiss because he couldn't help it. She smiled and let go, pulling up her blouse to her neck. Her breasts were large enough that it stayed there. She had on a lacy black bra that suggested she had planned this seduction, and since it seemed to be going well, I supposed she'd done a good job.
She undid the clasp, and the cups sprang apart, though she didn't remove the bra itself. The boy had been blown away at the sight of the bra alone; this was almost more than he could handle. Her breasts were big, though I didn't care for their shape, and she had unusually large and pronounced nipples, which were very erect.
Embracing cliché, she grabbed his hands and pulled them to her chest, and the boy obliged, though he could only cup and knead and feel for a moment before his resistance gave way, and he took a nipple in his mouth, sucking lustily.
The girl closed her eyes and tilted her head black, sucking in a sharp breath. She ran her fingers through his hair with her right hand, using her left to pull him to her for a little more grinding. Her breathing was getting serious.
I think the boy would've been content to suckle her breasts all afternoon, but I predicted he had about eight and a quarter seconds. I began a silent countdown. As I reached one, the girl pushed him to the ground and knelt, straddling him. Her large breasts hung down, her right nipple shining from the attention he'd given it with his mouth, and he stared at them from this new and fascinating angle before his attention was elsewhere. She whipped off his belt and got his pants open, then pulled down his boring white boxers to free his erection.
Something told me this was not the first erect penis this girl had seen, but she was impressed. It wasn't especially long, but it was big around, and twitching. You didn't expect to see something like that on a guy like this.
With something like wonder, she touched it almost hesitantly, and drew her hand back, maybe surprised by how hot it was. At her touch, the boy closed his eyes. She leaned down and kissed him, this time a little less fiercely and a little more gently. Her hard nipples dragged across his chest, and his penis brushed her white stocking. I started another countdown. This kissing went on for a moment, and his hand found her thigh, and he ran it over the fabric covering it.
My countdown ended, and abruptly she straightened. She was poised meaningfully above him, and that was starting to sink in for the boy.
His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. His erection was almost as red as his face. The girl reached back to raise her skirt from behind, denying him a view, but not hiding anything from me. Her bottom was pale and full, and her black underwear was stretched tightly across it. She leaned back slightly, her eyes never leaving his, and reached between her legs from behind, pulling the crotch of her panties aside to reveal a pink and swollen cleft, and a mass of red hair glistening with moisture.
If the boy had seen this, he would have exploded like a fire hose without a touch. I could tell the girl was anxious. She was no blushing virgin, but she'd only seen endowments like this on the internet, if at all. She wasn't sure it would fit. A few strands of fluid dripped from her folds, one of them running down the boy's engorged shaft.
After what seemed like a long moment, she reached down and grabbed him around the base. Her hand barely fit. He let out a grunt, and his entire body convulsed, the head of his penis jumping several times.
She leaned down, pressing herself to his chest, and kissing him as she guided him in. They moaned into each other's mouths as she sank down.
He instinctively took hold of her buttocks, his fingers digging into the flesh through her underwear. She took his face in her hands and gazed into his eyes, a strand of saliva hanging in the air between her lips and his. Gasps and panting breaths filled the supply room as she began to move her hips. The boy couldn't help himself, he was pushing his pelvis up, trying to go deeper, though he couldn't. If she really wanted to maximize her pleasure, the girl would've let him on top, but it probably didn't occur to her.
Just an observation. She put her hands on his chest and sped up a little, closing her eyes and taking breaths very fast now. He moved his hands to her breasts, which had been swinging, and squeezed. She let out a grunt and sank to his chest again, burying her face in his neck and moving her hips feverishly.
My phone began to vibrate. I took it out to find I had a text message. Sandy wanted to know if we were still on. Well, of course we were. Why wouldn't we be? That was provided I could find a way out of this supply room by evening, which I suspected I could.
I sent him a text assuring him that indeed, we were still on, and put the phone away. They were wrapping up. Her arms were around his neck, and his were around her back.
They were pressed tightly together, and going fast, both focused on one thing. There was a wet, muffled slapping as they pounded at each other. His gasps had gotten very desperate. She was shuddering through at least her third orgasm, and probably crushing him in more ways than one. He cried out, and she slipped off just in time, moving her body upward and forcing her breasts into his face as he climaxed. His erection stood up between her damp thighs, throbbing as streams of ejaculate fell on her legs, the flesh of her buttocks, her underwear, and even the lower back of her white blouse.
The boy's eyes were squeezed tight, and his expression a misleading one of extreme agony, though this was an orgasm he would probably remember for a long time. His hips were thrust up from the floor, and he spasmed several more times before it was over. Then he fell back with her on top of him, gulping in deep breaths. They lay there for while without a word, his enormous penis limp against her inner thigh, semen catching the light on the curves of her bottom, which continued to tremble for several minutes.
In time, they made themselves as presentable as possible, kissed once, a little dazedly, I guess for good measure, and left the supply closet looking deliriously happy.
I yawned. I was glad I hadn't stopped them; it seemed like they'd had a nice time. I looked at my watch; they had been fairly quick, though the boy hadn't done so bad holding out like that for his first time, and I could sleep a little more.
But the room was now decidedly fragrant, so I opened the window before I bedded down again and reset my alarm. I needed to find that broom.