Trying to get it on in the supply closet at school between classes

"'What are you, anorexic?' she said. I mean God, anorexic? Me? I don't purge myself like that thank you very much. I just don't eat if I feel like I'm getting fat. But I do it the right way. I eat according to the principles of food-combining, and I do pilates every day, so I've come by my body naturally, thank you very much," you say, royally peeved. "How dare that Marcy say such a thing. And who has a stupid name like Marcy anyway. What, were her parents Charlie Brown fans or something?"

"Peanuts," the love of your life says, working his fingers in and out of your pussy.

"What?" you give him a funny look like he's being funny again and he sighs.

"The cartoon was called Peanuts, by Charles M. Schulz," Jacob says, and you give him a suspicious look, spreading your legs a little for him. He actually adds a third finger like that would make you forget or something.

"Are you a closet fan of comics or something?" you ask, narrowing your eyes.

He sighs, his handsome face taking on that look you hate. Like he's wondering how he could possibly be with you. Like you're some ditz or something. Okay, maybe you talk a lot and maybe you're intolerant of certain things, like 'Peanuts', but there's no reason for him to give you attitude or look at you like you're deficient. Deficient. Guidance Counsellor Wang's favorite term when talking to you, it seems.

A fourth finger joins the rest in your pussy and you realize you're just now feeling the stretch. God, he hasn't stretched you out with that wonderful monster of his, has he? Are you so loose now that it takes four fingers to feel more than just moderately full? What would happen if he added a fifth?

"You're not going to fist me, are you? I mean, I'm just asking, not objecting. I just wondered if you were going to maybe try another. Because, you know, I think I can take it. I'm kind of worried that I can take it, actually. Maybe you should fuck me somewhere else. Maybe I'm getting too loose or something..." you say, knowing you're prattling, but when he gives you that look you get nervous, like maybe he's going to remember that he's a God among boys and could get anyone in the school. Heck, he could be banging that gorgeous new guidance counsellor, Valerie Smith, that all the boys have been drooling over.

"You're not banging Valerie Smith, are you?" you ask suspiciously, and he drops his head with a huge sigh. Is that a guilty expression? Your psychologist mother would probably know. Or your self-help author dad.

"Jenny..." he says with gritted teeth.

You know you need to shut up, but shutting up is something you've never been able to do. It was why they held you back a grade, in fact. But that worked out well, actually, because you'd skipped a grade early on and now you were among your peers. You blink, wondering why that's supposed to be such a good thing.

On the other hand if you hadn't been held back you wouldn't have met and started dating Jacob. So all is right with the world. You and Jacob are together. In the school broom closet. And probably incredibly late for chemistry.

"You can take my ass if you want," you blurt. You're not a big fan of anal, but you've let him do you there before. Besides, if you've really become so stretched that he could maybe fist you maybe you should try doing different things. Branch out a bit. Divert the workflow to different stations.

Your mouth got him this morning, usually he then switches back and forth. Mouth in the morning, pussy at lunch, mouth after school, pussy in the evening. One of the pussy sessions usually becomes anal. Another often goes to your mouth. He loves plugging your mouth for some reason.

Mind you, it's between second and third class now, so maybe the schedule will change to mouth in the morning, pussy mid-morning, anal at lunch, mouth mid-afternoon, pussy after school, anal at night. That could work. God he loves fucking you.

"You know, could we talk for once?" he asks plaintively.

"I hate talking," you retort.