[first story in possible series. all characters are over the age of sixteen]



Mr. Anderson's senior biology was one of the most boring classes in our small town school. Always late to class, even the late stragglers that get to their lockers after the late bell, always manage to make it to their seats before he makes it into the room. As the bell rang, I just happened to realize I was just one of those kind of people.



The room was one of the larger ones, filled with all kinds of table, but the more popular ones were the long black ones in the back. They made it easy for the kids to text their friends in other classrooms, or make classroom time their personal enjoyment. Of course, I never dreamed of the uses that the room would be brought to today.



I took my seat, not really bothering to get my things out of my backpack. It was still pretty early in the morning, and I would have rather slept than sit through another class. Instead, I took to searching through my phone for anyone that could possibly entertain me, when I friend sat next to me.



Alisson had been one of my best friends for years. She was one of those girls that like to hide her insane beauty beneath those old knit hats, and clothes that weren't entirely flattering. But after spending a summer with her family at the shore, I had seen a far sexier side of her, and was more than happy to admit that I had a crush on her.



I instantly perked up when she sat down. She gave me a quick sidelong smile, from behind those thick blonde curls that always seemed to fall everywhere.



"Hey." She said. Always a girl of few words, she wasn't the type to talk your ear off. She was almost the perfect girl.



Leaning back on my stool, I wait as Mr. Anderson begins the dregs of his speed. Like an old steam engine, it took him a while to warm up, but once he did, he could often go on for hours on the topic, without realizing that he had lost the rest of the class within minutes.



Less than halfway through class, I had already nodded off. It was one of those half sleeps, where you still can hear and know what's going on around you, but you're pretty much dead to the world. To me, I was focused entirely on the dream within my head.



No need to bore you with the details. Needless to say, it involved a personal stretch of beach, and myself rolling around with Alisson. Next thing I know, we're making out and we're both stark naked. Unfortunately just before it could get to the good part, I feel my cell phone vibrating in my pocket.



Somehow it was enough to shock me out of my dream, as I reached for it and pulled it out. One new text.



Curiosity peaked, I checked it out, scrolling through old messages, until I found one that made my mouth drop.



"Good dream?" It asked. The message was from Alisson.



I quickly punched the small buttons and texted her back.



"Yea, y?"



Her answer was slow, but out of the corner of my eye I could see her smile widen.



"Looks like it was pretty good." Her answer was short, but the look she gave me told me all I needed to hear. Her gaze was locked under the table, where I feared my own friend had just betrayed my dream.



Sure enough when I looked down, he was hard as a rock within my jeans. I tried shifting to get him to settle down. I did the old tricks as well, thinking of anything but sex, even some of the nastier thing my imagination could think of. But every time I tried, it quickly went back to the old image of us rolling around in the sand, and the passion I felt burning in me.



Twenty minutes later, I was getting worried. My cock was starting to hurt, and the bell would ring in less than fifteen minutes, and as soon as I left the room, I would be faced with every guys dilemma. I tried to hide my discomfort, when I felt my cell vibrate in my pocket again. Unfortunately, the feeling didn't help my situation in the slightest.



Pulling it out, before I could even read the text, I felt something brushing against my pants. Looking down, I saw a hand.

Skin of alabaster and so soft, nails bitten down short, slowly creeping up from my knee to where the bulge in my pants pulsed slightly with the increasing beats of my heart.



Then I glanced at my phone, to see the text that I had just received.



"Need help?" Alisson.



I nearly came in my pants then. At that moment, her hand touched my cock through the jeans material. I could almost feel the heat of her hand as she tried to wrap her hand around my pole, jeans and all. Slowly her hand rose and fell along my shaft, and I could tell that it was getting to her as well, with her chest rising and falling faster with every breath she took.



I think she realized I was beginning to get really uncomfortable. While there was a lot of relief, the tension in my cock was nearly unbearable, as it strained hard against the tough material of my pants, for even a moment of skin contact with her hand.



Then the tension relieved a little. My jeans had become unsnapped. Somehow without drawing attention to us, Alisson had managed to unsnap my jeans without stopping her smooth, long strokes. Then the zipper fell, and she noticed my leprechaun boxers. Had I known that this would be happening, I certainly would have worn something more... well, perhaps maybe the red ones with the hearts or something. Who knows. But I was stuck in green silk boxers, with shamrocks and tiny redheaded bearded men.



Alisson giggled, sending a happy chill down my spine that left me a bit warm everywhere. She didn't miss a beat though, moving her hand along my boxers, stroking slower. Somehow it was more incredible, feeling the warmth of her small hands as she gazed at my with those big blue eyes of hers. I was lost. Lost in the ecstasy that she was making me feel with just her hand.



Then, she grabbed me through the front opening of my boxers and started to stroke me in earnest. God, it felt so good. My head spun for a moment. And then I realized the pressure at the bottom of my cock, and the rush of energy meant. Holding off as long as I could, I quickly texted her. When her phone vibrated, I realized she had left it in her lap, right over top her own pussy. A quiet yelp quickly turned into a slow moan.



She stopped stroking hard, long enough to check out the text I had sent her.



"I'm about to cum." It said. It was a miracle I could text so many words when I was off in such bliss, let alone that I could write a coherent message.



Rather than stop and leave me hanging, she smiled at me. Her eyes were glossed over with lust, and I could see her craving, wanting to devour me. Taking a hand, she carefully rolled her pencil over the edge, hitting my still hard cock, before it fell to the floor. Her soft pink lips mouthed the word, "oops". Or at least I think she mouthed it. With the roar in my ears, I couldn't have heard a bomb go off in the hallway.



Bending over to get the pencil, I felt her breath on my cock, as she used her hand to pull my cock out. Before anyone could see it, she plunged over it. It still gives me chills to think of the feelings she gave me as she bobbed her head slightly, running her tongue over the length of my cock. She wasn't an expert, not by far. But I was so close it didn't really matter. With no thought to anything else, I wrapped my fingers in the curls of her hair and pushed her down farther, forcing more of me in her mouth.



Together we built a rhythm, growing as she made quite moaning noises, neither of us no longer caring if we were caught. Until I felt it. I squeezed her hair a little harder for a second, and pushed her down farther on my cock. My cock erupted hard, like Everest, spewing my spunk straight down her throat. Minutes later when she had finally finished sucking the last drops of cum from my cock, she sat up, pencil in hand as she started taking notes on the class once more.



I thought maybe she was going to act like nothing happened, when just as the bell rang and I began packing my things, I got one last text from her as she left the room.



"You're Welcome."