High School Hottie

All characters in this story are over the age of eighteen.

Please let me know how you like this tale, via comments or feedback.

Thanks for reading.

*****

Glenda.

To this day, the mere mention of that name brings back images of a tall, straight-haired brunette goddess.

It was high school, senior year. I had turned 18 during the summer. Glenda had transferred in the previous year when her family relocated, and immediately the gossip started. It was true that she had failed a grade somewhere along the way, and she was a year older than I. Some of the guys said they called her 'FedSex' at her last school, as in 'when you absolutely, positively need to hit that overnight', paraphrasing the ads for the shipping company. Some of the girls called her 'Glendie', referencing her dimensional similarity to a certain child's doll.

You see, she was tall, as I mentioned before, with an impossibly narrow waist, tight ass cheeks, and

loooong

legs, made longer by her trademark 6 inch heels. The real impossibility about Glenda was not her waist though; it was the twin volleyballs moored to her chest, which, despite the fact that she was as likely to be sans bra as with one, rode proudly sag free. All of that led to her other nickname, bestowed by other girls who weren't so fortunate : 'Zero G Glenda'.

Generally speaking, the only contact I had, or could hope to have with Glenda, was limited to a nod passing in the hallway, or maybe a chastising look if I got caught leering at her a little too long. She seemed out of my reach.

In French class, however, jeneralement pas applicable. The alphabet ruled the seating plan in Miss Vaitonia's French class, and alphabetical proximity put her right in front of me, every day, for 45 minutes. Which is how we ended up finally connecting.

Regular conversation wasn't getting the job done. She was polite, but cold. Then one day, we had a test that she obviously had not studied for. We were told to pass our papers back one to grade them, and when I turned foward, Glenda was placing hers on my desk, practically pleading with her eyes. She tried to smile, and the tip of her tongue grazed her lips.

Message received and understood. At this point, I would take almost any advantage to get closer. I wouldn't get her an A, but I wouldn't let her fail. As it turns out, her own effort was almost enough. Almost. I only had to fix four mistakes to make it respectable. She saw what I did, and when the bell rang, as she collected her books, she looked at me and mouthed a silent 'thanks'. She was lost in the crowd by the time I reached the halls.

Next day, while I had my feet extended under her seat, I hooked my heel into the book basket under her chair. She looked down, saw my foot, and scribbled a message on a scrap of paper, which she folded and stuck into my shoe.

You've got mail!

I nonchalantly scratched my ankle, retrieving the message as I did. When the opportunity presented itself, I unfolded it. "Thank you. I owe you one" it said.

An immediate reaction from my crotch. Apparently, my dick was learning to read.

As I left the classroom that day, she was waiting in the hall. She made eye contact. A subtle cock of her head led me to believe I should approach her. As I came closer, she looked up at me.

"Thank you for what you did yesterday..." and she proceeded to tell me about how she forgot to study, yada, yada, yada. I was too busy staring at her tits to really listen. Despite her obvious sexiness, she usually wore high necked tops, so there was rarely any cleavage to ogle. Today was the same, but from this range, I could see that she was wearing a bra today, something she didn't always do. It appeared to be a very small, light duty foundation garment, thin straps, thin fabric cups. Her nipple bulges could be seen. How she kept those things up, I don't know. I tuned back in just in time to hear her say "so if you want to stick a cheat sheet on my back, under my hair, you could do that".

Stick a cheat sheet on her back? Genius!

I would never have thought of that in a million years. Of course, cheating was not the subject I wanted her help with, and notes were not what I wanted to stick her with.

"Thanks, Glenda. I'll think about those... er... that" I said as I pulled my eyes from her gorgeous round tits, with great difficulty and great sorrow.

"Okay, well, see you tomorrow then." she said as she tottered off down the hall. I watched her tight ass sway all the way down to the corner. As she turned, she looked back at me, still burning eye holes in her butt. I saw her smile, then flip her hair.

The hair flip... she did the hair flip! That's what we call a 'buying signal'.

Anyway, time went on, French class happened over and over, and I continued to help her whenever I could. I never took her up on the cheat sheet thing. I had something else in mind. We were certainly getting along better. We talked more, even outside of class. The year was closing out soon, and as it was our last year, we would soon be parting ways.

One day, I was by my locker, and looked up to see Glenda, perched on her high heels, tottering toward me. She wasn't walking by ; she was heading straight at me.

Brushed denim jeans so tight you could clearly see her camel toe encased her legs. A matching vest did its best to surround her massive boobs, but several top buttons were gaping. Under the vest, a white satin v-necked tank top stretched across those melons, revealing more cleavage than I had ever seen her show. The obvious bounce factor led me to believe this was a bra less day.

Up scope!

"Wow, Glenda... you look great!" I said as she got close enough. She did a little pirouette to show me the back end was as yummy as the front.

"Thank you, sir," she replied, a mock curtsey allowing an even better view down her top. "I want to talk to you later."

"What? When?" I called as she walked away. My eyes caressed her mouthwatering ass.

"After French," she called over her shoulder, swinging her hips in emphasis.

"But Glenda... what's it about?" I called after her.

She stopped in her tracks, pivoted on her heels, and looked me in the eye. "

After French

," she repeated. This time she squeezed her arms together, enhancing her cleavage, and puckered her lips. When she continued to walk away, she ran her hands over her ass.

This exchange did not go unnoticed by my friends. They all watched her walk away, then turned to look at me in unison.

"What are you looking at?" I growled at them. They all laughed, and scattered to their respective classes. Even Terri was grinning at me. We were not mutually exclusive, just kind of friends with benefits. She closed her locker door and slowly walked past me.

"Good luck with that one, pal. You'll have to tell me what all the fuss is about later" she said, knowing she would be the only one I would tell it to. No one knew about her and I.

French class took forever to arrive. I was in my seat first. When she walked in, all eyes followed her, even the girls. She locked eyes with me, did a subtle booby squeeze in front of me, and sat down.

Did you ever notice how time can almost stop when you are maybe gonna get laid in 45 minutes? I mean, Glenda's tits were almost big enough to have their own gravitational field, so maybe relativity has something to do with it.

Eventually, the bell rang. She got up, collected her books, and walked away. When she got to be door she stopped, slowly turned her head and glanced at me out of the corner of her eye, before continuing out. It was subtle ; no one who wasn't looking for it would have seen. Problem is, several of my friends who had seen the hallway exchange were also in this class, and they were watching. One by one, they looked at me like it was the last time they would see me, and walked out.

Gee, guys, I'm not a test pilot going upon a dangerous mission, I'm just gonna get laid. Maybe.

My dick was definitely volunteering to find out.

Terri and I were the last ones left in the classroom. "Boldly go, baby. Boldly go..." and she left me alone.

I had gone from 'I can't wait' to 'I am scared shitless' in record time. The only part of me that was sure was my dick. "Okay, this is it" I said to myself as I walked out.

It had taken me so long to get moving, almost all the traffic was gone from the hallway. Except Glenda. She stood, leaning against her locker waiting patiently. When I came out, she walked over to me, wrapped her arms around my neck, and kissed me slowly. The contact between her huge tits and my chest was indescribable.

"I was beginning to think I scared you out the window." she said with a smile. Taking my hand, she started to pull it up toward her breast, then stopped, wagging her finger at me. "Not here. Your car please."

I don't know how we got there, but we were soon in the car. Another, longer kiss, followed up by an address and directions. We arrived at her place a few minutes later. She kissed me for almost the entire elevator ride to her apartment. Once we were inside her place, she locked the door, and turned to face me. The vest was fully open now. The darkness of her very large areolas was quite evident though the satin. I was sitting on the couch, trying not to explode, as she walked over to me, kicking off her heels along the way. She bent to kiss me again, allowing me to gaze right down the neckline of her top.

"Glenda, not that I don't appreciate your company, but, why me?" I know I was looking a gift horse in the tits, but I had to know.

She crawled up, straddling my lap, and planted a wet tongue kiss on me. Her arms around my neck, she crushed her big jugs against my chest. When she broke the kiss, I got my answers.

"Actually, there are several reasons. Terri and I were talking," (I froze... how much did they talk about?), "and she convinced me that you were different than the other guys... She really likes you by the way... I only listened to her because she's different than all the other girls."

You got that right... I wonder if there was a referral fee for getting your fuck buddy laid by someone else.

"She doesn't call me names behind my back, or shoot daggers at me with her eyes. After you helped me with my French problem, I expected you to... uh,... demand payment, for your services. Everyone else does, and whether I, uh, 'pay' them or not, they tell all their friends about it as if I did. But you didn't, even if I could see in your lustfilled eyes that you wanted to."

I was if you pardon the pun, busted.

"I can't help it if I am... let's say, built differently," gesturing to her chest, "than other girls. I used to try to hide it, but gave up and started to use my looks to my advantage. You'd be surprised what my boobs have got me."

"Anyway, your difference from the other guys got me interested. I figured, if you wouldn't send me an invoice, I would make a donation, with interest... as it were."

She grabbed the bottom of her tank top and pulled it off over her head. Yep, just as I thought, no bra. My dick was craning up for a look. My mouth went dry. Her chest was populated by two perfect breasts, each one quite the handful, and I have BIG hands. They stood proud, crowned by rosy pink nipples, with darker pink rings of puckered skin about 2 inches across.

"Glenda, I am by no means the greatest expert on the subject, but in my humble opinion, those are nice tits!" I said. Her giggled response shook the magnificent globes mere inches from my face. "They are real... I mean, it doesn't matter to me because they are... magnificent... but, they are real, aren't they?"

She looked hurt for a second, but it was a ruse. She smiled. "Why don't you tell me what you think," and pulled my face to her deep cleavage. I nuzzled, I rubbed my face on them, I fondled them... I performed every test I could think of, including a taste test that was approved by little mewling noises from Glenda. No doubt about it, those are niiiice tits, and they are one hundred percent original equipment.

My dick nodded in agreement.

She was grinding her crotch against mine now. My hands were all over her ; on her ass, her tits, anywhere I could explore. She seemed especially pleased when I caressed her inner thighs. She slipped off my lap and knelt in front of me.

"Show and tell time. You've seen mine, now it's your turn."

She levered down my fly, unbuttoned the top, and skinned my jeans over my hips. Pants and underwear hit the floor at the same time, leaving my quivering rod right in her face. "Wow! I would ask it it's real, but I think I will perform your tests on it", she was grinning mischievously from between my legs. Her hands caressed me, and her lips parted over the head. In one slow move she swallowed my sword almost to the hilt. Her head began to bob on my shaft in a delicious rhythm that was bringing my cum to a boil.

All I could do was stand there, watching her brown hair fly, while she enthusiastically vacuumed my cock. I could feel her melons against my thighs. Her tongue was doing little circles over the head of my rod when she would pull her head back. She clearly had done this before, but my dick didn't care. The referee issued the two minute warning to let her know that time was short.

"Glenda... better stop... feels so good, but better stop... gonna blow my top" (hey, poetry!) I struggled to warn her.

"You like it when I suck your cock?" she asked rhetorically, pulling my saliva coated shaft from her lips with a pop. I nodded. "Good. Feels good does it?"

I believe I covered that already, but...

I nodded. She pumped her hand along my length. "Good. You're gonna cum soon?" Nod, nod, nod. "GOOD"

Her lips closed over my shaft, and she began to run the hurry up offence. No time outs, no sideline patterns, she just went long, right down the middle. Touchdown! And the crowd goes wild!

My cock twitched and spasmed as shot after shot of goo blasted down her throat, and she milked me for every drop. She didn't even gag. Such skill.

The couch caught me as I stumbled back, pulling reluctantly from her mouth. My head was spinning, so it took a few seconds for me to focus. She was sitting back on her haunches, still half naked, smiling at me while she licked her lips.

"You were yummy. Now get over here and eat my pussy," she commanded. She knew what she wanted, and it was me.

Not a bad way to die, really.

Bending over she began to remove her jeans. They hugged every curve of her legs so perfectly that removing them entailed numerous little tugs, first one leg, then the other. Each tug made her hooters jiggle. The jeans finally lost the battle. The remaining garment, a tiny pink thong, she pulled up tight between the lips of her hot pussy, before dispatching it as well. She now stood before me, totally naked, and did her little turn. My mouth was hanging open again.

She swung her hips seductively (like she needed to seduce me... blowjob, naked goddess... I was hers) as she went over to a large wing-back chair. She looked me right in the eye while she perched on the chair. The eye contact continued as she leaned back and spread her legs wide, draping her knees over the armrests. Two fingers of her left hand spread the smooth shaven lips of her pussy, and her right hand began to caress the inner folds. She was craning her neck to look at me over her mountainous tits. What a view!

Taking a position between her thighs, I watched her play with her pussy from very close range. She was peeking at me through her cleavage, a lascivious grin on her face.

This close to her sex, I could smell her, and clearly see the moisture clinging to her lips. Time for another taste test. I plunged my tongue deep into her pussy, over and over, fucking her with my taster. I licked her lips, inner and outer, sucking them into my mouth. I then concentrated my assault on her clit. Aural consent to my oral attention greeted my ears. This was a great chair for pussy munching, perhaps a selling point.

Glenda was grabbing my head, pulling my face deeper into her wet, gaping pussy. My tongue probed her sweet depths. Her thighs were beginning to quiver now, and her breathing shortened into rapid hisses and gasps.

"Nnggh! Nnggh! Nnggggonnaaaaacummmmmmmm!" was the last thing I heard before her thighs clamped around my head. And I mean 'clamped', with a skull crushing force unexpected from such slim legs. She was also twisting her body as she was caught up in the throes of her orgasm. As her pleasure subsided, her legs released their grip on my head and she slipped off the front of the chair, straddling my lap. Her back was arched, head laid back on the chair, and in this position her already prominent breasts took on new significance. She was breathing hard, and her tits were heaving, and they were right in front of my face, and I was getting hard and horny again, and... well, what would you do?

I grabbed her left breast and latched on to her nipple, suckling as hard as I could. I was groping and sucking her stupendous rack ravenously, and her head was lolling back and forth on the chair. She was moaning loudly.

I hooked my arms under her knees, lifting her hips up level with the seat of the chair. Her shoulders were now resting on the chair, her back unsupported, and I was holding her up. My newly awakened erection was aimed right at her dripping gash, so I drove it home. Her cunt was tight, but wet enough for easy insertion.

"Oh... Oh you bastard! You big fucker!" she said, clutching me with her muscular sex. "Fuck me with that thing! Give it to me!"

Okay... I began to pound my cock into her warm wetness. Her boobs began to bounce and swing with each thrust. It didn't take long for her to acquire the pre-orgasmic glow, and a few strokes later, her legs clamped down again. So did her pussy. If my dick had been coal, it might have come out a diamond. As soon as she relaxed her grip, I resumed fucking, and she clamped again. So, Glenda does multiples! Cool!

When she relaxed this time, I pulled out and rolled her over, lifting her hips so she was on her knees. I grabbed her ass and slipped myself back into her quickly, resuming my rhythm. My thighs slapped hers loudly. Since my dick has a slight downward curve, I was now in contact with the little rough patch of her spot. Her boobs were hanging free, swinging in circles, slapping together each thrust. She had her head thrown back, shrieking, when I grabbed her hair. That set her off again, but this time, I just grabbed her hips and kept pounding her clutching, oozing cunt. She had one continuous orgasm for the next two minutes, while I thrashed her without pause .

Her pussy grabbed me one last time, then just went slack, along with the rest of her body. I continued to fuck her for another few strokes, but decided it would be much more fun if she was conscious. Withdrawing, I picked up her limp form and laid her gently on the couch. She looked like a sleeping angel, except for the dripping pussy and F cups. I bent over and kissed her. There was a slight physical reaction, and a groan. She's not unconscious, after all. Her eyes opened slowly.

"That was different," she breathed. There was a glow of sex sweat covering her body. She sat up slowly, and I sat beside her. We sat there in silence until we were both breathing more normally. Her hand went to my crotch, grabbing my still mostly erect cock. A few caresses from her brought it back to life completely.

She deftly swung her leg over me, positioned my dick at her opening, and impaled herself. In this position, I had both hands free to use while she bounced on my cock like a woman possessed. I kissed her, sucked her boobs, and grabbed her firm ass, urging her on. Finally, after she came one more time, I felt the fuse burning in my loins. She could see it in my eyes, and started to grind her cunt on me harder.