(Simone) Sharks a-circling

The lunch hour started and, as often was the case, Simone quickly found herself abandoned. The girls would eat their lunch with her merrily, chatting away as they always did. But as they all grew older it seemed more and more that the three of them were pulled apart by new responsibilities and expectations. Alex, for instance, had heard a rumor that some other little piece of prime breeding stock was moving in on one of her suitors. As was tradition the blonde bombshell had decided that some sort of overt gesture, such as riding him cowgirl in the middle of the dining hall, was required to defend her dynasty… Simone could vaguely hear the cheering from here. People just loved to see that girl perform. She was half convinced those blue-balled suitors set the rumors themselves most of the time… Just to get some attention out of their apparent ‘best girl’... though it was also certainly true she had a whole parade of jealous enemies among the other multi-sibling females.

Grace had rushed off at the request of her youngest brother, the only one still at school with them. It was kind of sickening how much she doted on and babied him, considering that he was actually only a few months younger than them. Simone got the impression it was something to do with their mother's sad passing. Still, the cunning little bugger took full advantage. Those ‘help me and my friends with our homework’ sessions always seemed to end up with dear Gracey sprawled out on the floor of the library, her prominent breasts being used as snooker cushions by a parade of boys from the year below.

Which just left Simone, undefended by her intimidatingly fertile companions, sharing barbed jokes with their very-gay friend Laurence. She liked Laurence. He had a wonderfully dry sense of humor that cut through all her sharp-tongued poetry with ease. He was the only boy in a three child family, but had made it very clear to the world at large which court he preferred to bat in. Homosexuality had always been a sort of quietly acknowledged but behind-closed-doors sort of thing in society. The church and government traditionally trying to quell the promotion of such ideas because ‘no chance of child could come of such a union.’ The wholly gay men and women of the world were generally seen as letting the side down; not trying hard enough to overcome the great genetic obstacle to humanity's future. Nowadays though, there were great movements to have pride in all your love and lusts, whatever form they took. There were whole hosts of people who would never have children no matter how much they tried, why should they not be happy anyway? Laurence was a shining star at the front of that movement: two sisters and a parade of feminine admirers, yet he'd never gone near a vagina since the first one. Simone loved him for both his stubborn pride near equal to hers and the fact that at no point during their conversation would she get a sudden shot in the eye.

She did however find herself suddenly rather red-cheeked and short of breath. Below the table a lapping tongue was working overtime today. Marcy was an… odd girl… another of the main threesome's hangers on, and from the same year as Grace's brother. She was one of the rarer female members of Simone's rather cult-like following, though rather more determined than the others. She would take great pains to sneak up on her elder idol whenever she could and just set to work upon her clit and folds without warning or askance. At first Simone had been a little unnerved by this, especially since the younger girl had never even talked to her… But she had to admit… that tongue knew what it was doing. So these days she just accepted the tribute being given, absentmindedly stroking the head of soft hair as it delved between her thighs.

Where one lurked however… more would follow. She could already see the shadows flickering at the edge of her vision. That long hour of lunch was ever a precarious time for the queen of the only-children. Pretty much the only high-school senior who had managed to get to her comfortable seat of prominence without letting a single student even claim to have fucked her. ‘Just a prude with attitude’ those jealous of her allure might sneer, but she shrugged them off as easily as her admirers. Her power was secure in its tantalisation: surely she had to give in sometime?! Someone would have to be the first to win her. To break through that icy shell. Their whole world was built on the game of teasing arousal. Of playing on those ever swelling hormones and sparking nerves that ruled over them all. Sex was life. Life was sex. Everything else was just a stopgap.