Divisions and decisions

Mark was worried. No, that wasn't quite true… More like: Mark was anxious, paranoid, angry, upset and both mad at himself for feeling each emotion and unsure why he was doing so. His leg bounced under the desk, an irritating nervous twitch that he could not stop, but which also constantly reminded him what he was feeling. He hated it. At this point he’d have chopped it off for a bit of relief… though perhaps it was the thing next to it that really needed amputating.

It was one short day since he had fucked Stacy in the school toilets. 24 hours since he had pumped ANOTHER load of unrestrained semen into her, praying afterwards that she wasn't talking out her ass when saying it had been safe to… or perhaps praying that she was… sometimes… because then…

Gah! It was madness how his thoughts kept racing ahead into stupid daydreams and jealous dead-ends. It was that damn sixth rule of hers which had done it… that open door that should never even be offered to boys of a certain age. She had fucked Pete straight after, he had been somehow dismayed to find out… but had told HIM to cum on her tits. Did that mean...? Anything? Did it matter? Should it matter? They were all in this together after all, and he was fine with that. It was great like that…

Except they weren't all together today, were they. He was stuck here, in school. While those two… those two had clean enough academic records to be given a bit of leeway. Had parents and tutors who would never even CONSIDER that they might be faking a stomach upset just to play hooky and spend all day fucking. While his mom… His mom would have let him off in a second. Would have taken a day out herself, just to smother him in weird oils and surround him with shiny crystals until his ‘balance was restored’. Would have fought black and blue with the school secretary when the old woman hinted that, maybe, declaring him a whole week off immediately for just a stomach bug was a little over the top… The others didn't understand why he couldn't try it because he knew he would succeed. They just didn't understand…

His phone buzzed. Another update from his ‘terribly sick’ friends. They were at Peter's house, the safest venue to guarantee they wouldn't be disturbed. Pete’s mom would pop in to check on him over lunch, but at a very predictable time when Stacy could easily just duck behind a door. Mark imagined her twisted delight, hiding naked in a cupboard trying not to giggle as the woman who despised her cooed over her ‘poor, suffering baby boy’. A stray image flashed: of that ever-horny creature, trapped in an enclosed space. Energized by that exhibitionist thrill of danger that she seemed to gag for. Her skin hot and damp with sweat or other remains from what her and Peter had surely been doing all morning. It caused another uncomfortable reaction in Mark’s pants, an embarrassing throb, and not the first this class. His leg began to go again…

What they kept sending him didn't help. In between parental visits and the inevitable silent half-hours. They had taken on a project. They were building the ‘orgy club’ a website. Nothing findable of course, just another amateur, teenage digital-collage thrown into the never seen recesses of the internet, left untagged and unsearchable. Yet this was to be the explicit dumping grounds for all their sordid escapades. Complete with Pete’s talented extraction of Stacy’s confusingly cutesy stylings: rainbows and unicorns dancing around every cum-splattered image they'd caught of her so far. It was their slut-in-askance all over: a technically public space to flaunt all her proudest defilements, helped all too eagerly by her two favourite meatsacks. Even now, amidst all his turmoil, Mark knew he approved. How could he not? She’d be there, eager and waiting, when he finally managed to catch up to them. She was doing all this for him, as much as anyone. Building him a personal wank-bank, entirely out of her; and letting him choose what to add to it. He already had a few ideas… What on earth did he have to complain about? He was one of the luckiest young men in the world! He gritted his teeth and tried to just will the day onward… but still his leg twitched.