Samir - A high school Student (Erojaylake)

A/N: The start would be a little slow.

***

Samir didn’t remember when the shouting started—it just felt like part of the house now. Like the stained carpet or the flickering hallway light.

“I SAID GET ME A FUCKING BEER, YOU USELESS PIECE OF SHIT!” his father screamed.

Samir ducked on instinct. The bottle hit the wall behind him and shattered into dozens of amber-glass fragments. He felt a warm sting as a shard nicked his arm, but he didn’t flinch. It wasn’t the first time.

Not by a long shot.

His heart thundered in his chest.

“Get it yourself,” he muttered, grabbing his schoolbag and bolting out the door before the next projectile found its target.

Outside, the morning was cheerful, not for him, though. They lived in a rundown neighbourhood. often harassed by the local gangs.

Samir didn’t look back.

At sixteen, he was short, awkward, and heavier than he’d like. His brown skin—an inheritance from his Arab heritage—didn’t make things easier in a town where different was not appreciated.

At school, he was a shadow. Not popular enough to be liked. Not interesting enough to be bullied regularly. Just… there.

Sometimes a bored jock would shove him in the hallway, or whisper something racist when teachers weren’t around. But even bullies found him too dull to be entertaining.

His father hadn’t always been like this. Samir remembered faint traces of a gentler man—laughing, cooking, telling stories about “back home.” But something changed after they fled. Maybe it was the war. Maybe it was the soul-crushing grind of minimum-wage jobs. Maybe it was losing Samir’s mother when he was just two.

They’d arrived in this new country as refugees—a new life, yes, but not a better one.

In the beginning, his father had tried. He’d held his head high. But grief and poverty wear you down. A year in, and the kindness in him started to crack. The anger came next.

Now, Samir was just a target. Another reminder of everything lost.

But at least at school, the **** was predictable. Boring, even. But there was one thing that he loved the most. And it was the movies, the adult kind, to be specific.

Being from an abusive household, he could have been one of those misunderstood bullies, but he took a different route. Which was being a pervert. A degenerate, absolutely filthy kind of pervert.

He was a little bit ashamed to say that he had even masturbated to his mom's old pics. She was one damn thick woman if he had to say so himself. His dream job was unconventional, he wanted to be a porn movie director.

Not a porn star, no, that would be a common dream, every teenage boy thinks of that dream at least once. He, unlike them, wanted to direct those movies.

Of course, it was because he wanted to make videos that were to his taste, but he also heard that the directors, the famous ones, have more sex than the stars themselves!

This information was debatable but fuck it, he will find it out for himself.

***

Samir reached school and sat down in his class, like an invisible man. Sometimes he thought that if he had invisible powers, that would make his life so much easier. and interesting, hehe.

All the kids filed in one by one, just when the class was about to start, a girl walked in. Samir could swear that her boobs entered at least two seconds before her.

She was dressed in a white shirt and a pale blue skirt, the shirt was barely holding onto her massive tits. Not at all suitable for her age. She was an early developer. Her skirt reached almost to her thighs.

Brown eyes and short hair with cute symmetrical features made her face, and she had a tomboyish look about her.

"Emily!, Here!" A handsome boy called her name, instructing her to sit beside him. Emily was his girlfriend.

Samir sighed as Emily skipped around the class to her boyfriend's desk. She was one of the popular kids, mean and kind of rude. Not exactly the personality her appearance might suggest. He can only remember her looking at him with disgusted eyes, like he was some kind of cockroach.

But god damn was she was hot, thick, meaty-just as he liked. Peeping at her was his pastime hobby. He had been caught a few times, but besides a shove and a punch here and there by her boyfriend, Jack, he had been fine.

Samir ended his day with Emily's jiggling breasts in his thoughts and walked away as soon as they were allowed to go. He didn't want to stay any longer, who knows, Jack got too bored. How he could get time from playing with Emily's tits to bully a nobody like Samir, he was not sure.