Ever since I could remember, I had always had a problem with infatuations. I was a girl who needed something to occupy my mind. seeing as my shyness and my desire to meet the expectations of my strict catholic family and church had kept me from developing any social life to speak of. I usually filled this void in my mind with a burning desire for guys that I would never have the courage to approach. 

Looking back, I should have had much more confidence in my self. I wasn’t an ugly girl by any means. I was a fair skinned brunette  and fairly developed for a freshman in high school, and my C cup breasts looked quite large on my slim frame.

My most recent obsession was named Malcolm. He had come to my school halfway through the year, and rumor had it he had been kicked out of the private school he had attended previously. He had a thick, masculine musk, with a strange yet somewhat alluring smell to me that my friends explained to me as pot smoke. I never really wanted a relationship with him. I could pretend to be a good girl all I wanted, but I had no intention of loving him. What I did love, was his curly blonde hair that stopped just short of his brow ridge. his golden, sunkisses complexion, the light blonde hair growing on his muscled legs, and his high, round ass that I wanted nothing more than to see out of his basketball shorts.

“Why don’t you go over and talk to him?” I said to my friend Katie as I stared at him across the room during fifth period. 

“Why don’t you, Eileen? You’re the one that likes him,” she said, absentmindedly smacking her gum, clearly paying more attention to the red haired, ruddy faced guy sitting next to him.

Our exchange was cut short by Mrs. King rising from her seat to give us the days assignment.

“Class, today we’ll begin our unit on William Shakespeare’s ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’: a tale of multiple lovers being magically, and undeniably drawn to each other. Before we begin, I’ll be placing you in groups of four,” the aged teacher explained. She proceeded to draw our names from a hat to determine our groups. “Group one will be… Eileen… Kyle (the redhead)… And Malcolm.”

My heart skipped a beat.

In what seemed like a flash, Katie and I were both sitting across from the objects of our desire with our desks all pulled together into a big group. 

I couldn’t bare to look up at Malcolm, I instead pretended to be thumbing through the first chapter of Shakespeare’s play.

“Hell, I’ve never seen someone start reading this crap so fast,” I heard malcolm’s deep (for a fifteen year old’s) voice and looked up. “If you like this shit, maybe you can just tell me what happens and I won’t waste my time,” he said with a sly grin on my face. I clearly saw his emerald eyes dart to my breasts, where they rested shamelessy for a moment before flickering back to my reddening face.

“Um… Yeah maybe…” I said with a nervous giggle. I should have been angry that he wanted to use me, I should have disapproved of his language as my mother would, and I should have been insulted that he had ogled me so openly, but all I could think about were my manicured nails dug into his strong back.

“How about we exchange numbers?” Katie proposed, although I knew she just wanted Kyle on her speed dial. “That way we can talk about our homework and stuff.”

“Sure!” I heard Kyle’s unsuspecting voice say. I thought he was just playing dumb though. I was intuitive enough to know that he wanted her as bad as she wanted him. I didn’t protest and neither did Malcolm, so in moments, we all had eachther added to our contacts lists. 

I was too nervous to say anything else to Malcolm that period, so the rest of the day went by with no notable occurences.

However, after walking into my townhouse which would be vacant for two more hours before my mother came home from work, I knew what I was going to do. It was a familiar routine. I took my mother’s mounted crucifix off of the wall and hid it in a drawer. I turned down every picture in the living room. I then laid down on the sofa and flicked the tv on to the Tyra Banks show and turned the volume up loud to mask the noise that was about to fill my apartment. 

When I was all settled, I finally pulled the bottom of my sundress up over my waist so that my white lace boyshorts were exposed. I touched my fingers to the silky material, which was slightly bumped from my thick pubic hair. I caressed the rose of my labia and let out a low sigh. It was going to get louder.

I was done playing around, and I thrust my hand down the front of my panties. I was right on the verge of losing myself as I rubbed myself. As my index finger entered me, I was overtaken by my fantasy.

Malcolm straddled me, with his hard dick pointed like a straight arrow to my waiting pussy. I left my being a virgin out of my fantasy. He pushed his thick 9 inch manhood into my moist inner sanctum. I pulled him into me and dug my nails into his tan back. I could feel his blonde pubic hair bristle against me as he slid his shaft in and out, placing me in a cloud of wet, dirty ecstacy.

I moved my hands down to his firm, perfect ass, coated in fuzz, and pulled him into me harder. I could hear the sound of his wet skin slap against mine as he plowed me faster and faster.

His sweat dripped down on me and I was overtaken with his many, marijuana laced musk. This drove me over the edge, and I began to grind my pelvis onto him with everything I had, feeling his cock rolling around in my snatch.

I roughly shoved him backwards and climbed onto him. I sat on his pole and bounced up and down, taking in every, beautiful inch of him. I heard his breath grow heavier and his moans get louder.

I could feel the waves of pleasure beginning to radiate from my pelvis out through the tips of my toes. I was almost to Nirvana, almost there, almost-

I heard my cellphone ringing. I realized that it was coming from underneath me as I noticed that I had knocked half of the contents of my purse from the small table on the couch to the spot where I had been writhing around.

I had no intention of answering, but as I repositioned myself to at least see who it was, I hit the button to take the call. The screen said it was Malcolm. I had already answered. I couldn’t just hang up…

“H-hello?” I stammered into the receiver.

“Eileen? Hey, it’s Malcolm,” his sexy voice said, driving my already sensitive body into overdrive. A small whine came out of my throat. “Um… This a bad time?”

“No- um… No I was just…” I was terrible under pressure, and I didn’t have much experience with lying.

“Just what?”

“Nothing… So… What did you need, Malcolm?” I asked almost impatiently. Ironically, I was desperate to get rid of him just so that I could keep pretending to be intimate with him.

As he started to drone on about some fabricated story about why I would need to do his homework for him that night, I just couldn’t help it. I reached my free hand back down inside of my underwear and rubbed myself furiously. 

As I heard his deep, sexy voice in my ear, and imagined his dick plunging into me, it all became to much. My breaths became quick and short, Malcolm quit talking. I pushed a finger further into myself than I had ever managed and before I could control it, it came. The pleasure swept over me like a tidal wave and I couldn’t help but let out a moan of pleasure. My eyes rolled back into my head and my back arched, sending my firm breasts and erect nipples into the air.

As I began to settle, I realized what I had done.

“…Malcolm?” I questioned into the receiver through my heavy breaths.

“Having fun?” He taunted me as he began to crack up. I heard his laugh, as deep and smooth as his perfect voice. I had made no effort to conceal it, completely lost myself. He had heard everything.

Without a word, I jabbed the end call button with all the ferocity I had left.

I ran my fingers through my hair, my heart nearly exploding out of my chest. My face burned red hot and my fists clenched out of sheer rage toward my stupid self.

“SHIT!”

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