He was walking up the stairs in the house belonging to the captain of the football team, following the very shapely derriere of the captain of the cheerleading squad up to the second floor, where all the bedrooms were. Not bad for a loser.
"In here," she said, turning back to look at him, to usher him into the second room to the left past the landing.
Before following her inside, Jeff noticed three couples in the corridor alone in various stages of becoming intimate with each other – but then it was a particularly wild party, especially by his standards.
The closed behind him, and there he was, in a room with Marissa Williams, one of the most beautiful girls he'd ever seen, captain of the school cheerleaders and the wet dream of virtually every teenage boy in town.
"Come on," she urged him towards her.
Jeff's heart was pounding, his cock rock hard between his legs: look at her. The long, golden hair shimmering down her back like a mountain waterfall caught in the sunlight, her large green eyes drawing him in, her figure so breathtaking under her body-hugging outfit. And she pulled him towards her – Jeff, a complete nobody until a few days ago.
She fastened her lips on his, kissing him with full intimacy, pulling his body to hers so that his hardness pressed up against her abdomen. As they kissed, Jeff found his hands arriving at her rounded behind, and the enormous need within him took over, so that he squeezed her against him, crushing his penis against her, still partially in disbelief at just who it was he was kissing.
Marissa broke away. She looked at him seemingly in wonderment, a huge smile lighting up her face as though she was impressed with him somehow.
"Are you gonna fuck me, Jeff?" she asked him breathlessly. "Are you gonna tear off my panties and fuck me like I've never been fucked before?"
He felt a little strange then. He hardly even knew this girl: a few days ago, she would have passed him in the school hallway and not given him so much as a glance, and here she was asking him to perform the most personal act possible with her. And he'd hardly said a word to her up until this point. But what do you do when a girl like that asked you a thing like that? She probably had a future as a model ahead of her, you just don't turn that kind of thing down when you're a single guy.
"Come on, baby," she said to him, stepping away and falling back onto the large double bed, "show me the kind of power you showed Russell when you saved his life."
She lay there now, those perfect legs parted to reveal luxurious white lace panties nestling under that tiny pleated skirt of hers. Incredible.
He climbed onto the bed beside her, and his arm circled her waist as he drew level, his mouth reaching hers again to pitch into a deep kiss once again. As they kissed, she pushed his hand down, over her flat stomach that was so warm and smooth where her crop top came up short, but she kept pushing his hand until in moved over her skirt and down between her thighs. She pressed his fingers against her panties, against her mound that was so very hot and already soaking wet, even through her underwear.
"You see how wet you make me?" she whispered, breaking away from their kiss. "I'm ready for you, Jeff. I want you to fuck me like there's no tomorrow."
He thought it a little odd at the time that not only did they really not know each other very well, but they had only really kissed a couple of times and she was urging him to penetrate her already. But the fact was that at moments like that, you don't really think about things too much. In Jeff's limited bedroom experience, he knew that when you had your first time with someone, there was rarely time to think about things, and a man is very open to suggestion at such a moment. He did what she wanted him to, pulling off his pants and dragging her tiny panties down her thighs to reveal the glistening folds of her hairless pussy.
It was certainly an amazing feeling to grip her hips and drive his rigid shaft into her warm wetness – like a wet dream, it didn't quite seem real. And the truth was, he seemed to be moving purely on instinct now: he really wasn't thinking about much as he moved inside her.
*
He wasn't thinking about anything much when it all started, either. Russell probably would have said something like he didn't have his eye on the ball, but then he didn't know Russell back then anyway - well, not to talk to. You see, Russell was just a mythical figure that Jeff passed occasionally in the hallway, always surrounded by the most attractive girls, always at the centre of attention.
But just because you're Mr Popularity, doesn't preclude you from danger.
Jeff was almost the direct opposite at the time: people walked past him as though nobody was there, as though he was invisible. He wasn't a geek – not in the classical ridiculous glasses and greasy hair-type computer addict kind of a way, anyway – and he wasn't a goth: all in all, he wasn't out to be particularly outrageous or downright anti-social. He just wasn't a football player, and that was what counted at Lincoln High.
After a couple of years at the school where the students just seemed to gather around the football players like moths around a light bulb, Jeff had grown distant, not caring for the superficial nature of society there. He had his interests: listening to music of various kinds, strumming on his guitar a little here and there. But he found increasingly that people just didn't understand him. Ultimately, this was a mistake, but he didn't know that until life became truly lonely.
The correction of that mistake came from the most unlikely source. Jeff was just wondering home from school, like usual on a Thursday afternoon. He had his personal stereo on, his button headphones tucked into his ears to fill his audio world with the sounds of the latest Coldplay album. It was a wonder that he noticed what he did.
Russell was up ahead, swaggering about like he owned the place, which, unofficially, he did as captain of the school football team. He was talking to a couple of seriously attractive girls – cheerleaders, probably, not that Jeff knew who was one and who wasn't at school, not paying attention to that kind of thing.
Jeff saw the car coming around the corner, but Russell had his back to it. One thing about modern cars, along with generally more efficient engines, is that they are getting quieter and quieter, which may make the drivers' journeys more comfortable, but also makes them harder for pedestrians to hear. Russell didn't hear it at all, but then he was laughing and joking around to the two girls who stood on the pavement.
The first thing that crossed Jeff's mind was actually curiosity. Was this prime athlete so focussed on showing off to the girls on the sidewalk that he wouldn't notice the car at all? Naturally, he assumed the driver of the car would spot Russell and squeeze the brakes, screeching the vehicle to a juddering halt in time. But at the very last minute, horror bloomed inside his chest like a rotting putrescent explosion.
The driver wasn't slowing down at all.
And then Jeff saw it: the driver was not paying attention, the driver was too intent on using his mobile telephone. It infuriated Jeff when people used cell phones while driving: it was just as stupid as driving while intoxicated by alcohol because your brain wasn't fully focussed on what you were doing. People would know never to use a cell phone while using a chainsaw, say, but somehow the car is seen as safe. Never mind that the automobile has killed more people than any war in history.
Jeff dropped his bag and ran, not thinking about what he was doing, not considering that perhaps Russell would see the car at the last minute and leap out of the way, not even hoping that the driver would see the colourful football shirt that the boy in the street was wearing. He dropped everything, including his personal CD player, and pumped every available ounce of energy into the muscles of his legs and arms, pushing himself as hard as his body could manage towards the impending collision.
Russell even didn't see it at the last minute, and the driver didn't brake at the final moment because he wasn't watching. In that glimmer of a moment, it all happened, and for Jeff, it seemed to happen so very slowly. He bounded towards the huge quarterback, a guy normally used to shaking off all number of tackles to get that perfect spiralling throw to connect with his wide receiver and get the all-important first down, Jeff leaped towards him and piled all his weight into him.
