Amanda

High school was not a fun place for me. Being more of the geeky outsider, more interested in science, computers, and the related pop-culture associated with those interests, meant I had few friends. It also meant that I was so far out of the social ladder that I wouldn't be able to see the bottom rung with a pair of binoculars. So, when Amanda, one of the most gorgeous girls in school – long slightly curly brown hair, a perfect cupid bow mouth, deep drown eyes, and an amazing body that she always dressed to accentuate – sat down opposite me in the library, I was certain it was because she had no idea I was there. I didn't look up, other than to surreptitiously see if I could ogle her cleavage. Her t-shirt was low cut enough that I could make out the little y crease where her nice round tits met, and a small expanse of creamy white skin. I felt a stirring in my pants from the brief glance, but kept my head down on my Calculus books.

"Josh?" She asked.

I was certain she was talking about another Josh, but glanced up anyway. She was looking right at me. Was she going to bust me for checking out her boobs? I flushed a bit, "Um, yeah?" There was no way this was going to go my way. I'd admired Amanda from afar – probably like most of the male population of the school; possibly most of the female population as well.

She smiled, "I was wondering if I could get your help?"

I looked at her, the flush vanishing, and suspicion clouding my mind. Why was she asking me for help? It was social suicide to talk to me, even if I was one of the smartest kids in the school. "Help?"

"Yeah," she twirled her hair with her left hand, "Mr. Keeton's Calculus class is kicking my ass. I need somebody to help me before our chapter test on Monday."

I was incredulous. "You want my help?"

She batted her eyes at me, "Well, yeah, you are after all his best student. I figure if anyone could help me, it would be you."

Not that helping her wouldn't be great, but I had been burned so many times I wasn't jumping into anything. "Why don't you go to the study sessions during lunch or afterschool?"

Her face broke a little, making me feel a bit guilty, "I've tried. I'm just not getting it." She could obviously tell that my guards were up, "Look, I can make it worth your time – I can pay you to tutor me."

I considered. I needed the money, what high school student doesn't? I couldn't believe I was saying this, "How much?"

"Well," she caught her lower lip between her teeth, "How about $20 an hour?"

I knew I was going to regret this – I just didn't know how yet. "Maybe. I'll think about it."

"Oh please," she begged, putting her hand on mine. It took sheer willpower not to flinch away. Her hand was warm and dry on mine, and sent a palpable electric current down my arm. "I really need some help."

I sighed, this was not going to turn out well, "Ok. I guess."

She beamed at me, "Thanks!" She reached out and picked up my pen, then wrote on my paper in an overly rounded hand '114 Spruce Terrace'. "That's my address. How about this afternoon?"

I was shocked, completely speechless, Amanda was inviting me to her house to tutor her? It took me a second to find my voice, "Um... sure?"

She bounced up, "Ok, right after school?"

"Um... ok."

She came around the table, and before I could react, she kissed me on the cheek, "Awesome!" Her mouth was mere inches from me, and I swear I had stopped breathing, although I was keenly aware of her floral perfume. Then she was gone.

I sat, completely flummoxed by what had happened. I was also sporting major wood. It hadn't been enough to watch her boobs, feel her hand on mine, but she had kissed me? I was rock hard, and had to think about other things before the bell rang to prevent me from having to stand up and show the world.

Last class both took forever to come, and was over far too quickly. I was excited, but part of my brain was screaming at me to be cautious. All it would take is one person, and that person could still be Amanda, to see me at her house, and I would end up with a black eye, a fat lip, or who knows what else?

I made sure I had my Calculus books, and my notes. I might as well treat this as if it was legit. It probably was, I'd convinced myself, after all – she had seemed sincere, and I'd never got the impression that she was a mean person. I went out to my car – which I parked a block away since the incident last year when somebody had taken a dump on the hood. I figured out of sight, out of mind. I got into the car, and pulled out. On the way, I turned on the stereo and listened to a little AC/DC. I found my mind drifting. What if she touched me again? Would she see how she affected me? I was a bundle of nerves as I pulled up to her house. There was one car in the driveway – her BMW 318i. Yeah, she could afford the $20 and hour.

I got out and locked the car. Now I had a decision. Front door up the walk, or side door by the garage. Which one should I go to? I decided that the side door was probably ok. Front doors were imposing. I rang the bell, and peered in the glass panes. Amanda came into the kitchen, then opened the door, "Hi."

"Uh... Hi," I responded, still standing on the stood.

"Oh," she stepped aside, "Come in."

I followed her into the kitchen. "We can study here," she motioned to the table.

"Ok," I put my book bag down, and dragged out my books and notes.

We sat down, and started going through the material. It was easy to explain things to her, she grasped the concepts when I did. She also had the maddening habit of touching me, or brushing against me as we worked. I was also enveloped in the smell of her perfume. As a result, I think I spent the hour we worked with a nearly perpetual erection, and I was also slower at explaining things than I should have been – as it was distracting and hard to concentrate.

After two hour, and the end of the chapter, she stood up and stretched. I watched her out of the corner of my eye. I watched the way she arched her back and the way her boobs rose and fell. "I think I get it. Thank you so much!"

"Um," I said, gathering my stuff, "No problem. Glad I could help."

"We should go for a swim," she told me, talking across the kitchen to the fridge. "Want a bottle of water?"

A swim? Was she crazy? "Uh... sure – for the water. I don't have a bathing suit."

She took two bottles out of the fridge and twisted the caps off. She handed one of them to me. I still sat, as I was still sporting a hard on. The thought of her in a swimsuit wasn't helping at all.

"That's ok," she told me, "You can borrow a pair from my father."

I took a swallow of the cold water, "I don't know..."

She came over and grabbed my free hand – the one not holding the water – "Come on, it will be relaxing. You do know how to swim, right?"

"Yes," I said slowly, "but... um... are you sure?"

"What do you mean?" She looked at me, confusion on her face.

I sighed, "Look, Amanda, I'm not exactly the most popular kid in school. I'm not sure why you're being so nice to me. I also don't think you want to be seen hanging out with me – or going for a swim with me."

She laughed, "Really? You think I care what other people think of me?"

"Well, yeah," I countered, "I mean, you like the most popular girl in school, and I'm, well, me."

She tugged on my hand, pulling me to my feet. I panicked, and hoped she didn't look down, where my dick was definitely causing a tent in my pants. "I'm friends with who I want to be. I spend time with who I want to. Everyone else can go fuck themselves."

"Must be nice," I said.

She half turned, letting go of my hand. I quickly adjusted myself so it was less obvious about my erection. "We're going for a swim. Come on."

I took another swallow of water, and followed her. We went through the living room, and out into the backyard. There she had an absolutely gorgeous pool with clear inviting water. I followed her to a small changing hut next to it. It had two doors. She opened one and peered inside, then opened the other. "Damn, nothing here." She turned back to the house, "Wait here, I'll be right back."

She walked back the house, and left me standing there. I realized there were two changing rooms in the hut. In the first one, a few bikini tops and bottoms hung on a line, and a couple of towels were stacked neatly by the door. The other one was empty. It was hot out, and I finished off my bottle of water quickly. Amanda returned, holding a pair of men's swim shorts, "These should fit, I think. I just took them from the laundry."

I took she shorts, still uncertain what I was doing here. She went into the first changing room, pulling the door closed behind her, "Hurry up and get changed."

I stood mesmerized for a moment, then shrugged. What the hell? I went into the second changing room, and made sure the door was locked before taking off my clothes and putting on the swim shorts. I was still lacing them when I heard the other door open, then a quick patter of feet and a splash. I heard Amanda call out, "Hurry up!"

I laced the pants, and opened the door. Amanda was already in the pool. I could see flashed of her red bikini in the water. My erection had gone away, but returned almost immediately. I jumped into the water to hide it. I was a pretty good swimmer – not like competition good, but I liked to swim. I'd been told I had a lean trim form which worked well for it. I considered myself thin and/or lanky. I guess I wasn't the one to judge. The water felt really good, and I swam a distance underwater. It helped that the chlorine levels were fairly low, and I could open my eyes and see Amanda's body through the water. The barely there bikini bottoms hugged her perfect ass, the thin trail of fabric vanishing between her legs. God, if I didn't stop thinking like this, I would never get rid of the erection.

I surfaced for air.

"You're a good swimmer," she told me, "You were down there for like thirty seconds or so. I was just hoping you hadn't drowned."

I smiled, feeling warm and loose, "I've always liked swimming."

"Good," she said, "Let's do laps then. I find it relaxing."

So, we started at one end and did lazy laps. We weren't striving for speed, but slowly swimming. I was finding the play of the water in the splashes as we did so fascinating. I was aware that Amanda was asking me questions, and I was answering, but I was having a hard time remembering what was being said. Why was I feeling this way? I felt like I was drunk or something.

I felt Amanda grab my shoulder, "Josh, we should probably get out. You look like you've had enough."

"Sure," I slurred, and she helped me out of the pool. She helped me toward the changing room. "Take those off, and hand them out the door so I can hang them up."

I went into the changing room and took off the shorts. Then I cracked the door open, Amanda was standing with her back to me, and she lifted her arm out. I handed her the swim shorts. I was thinking that I needed to towel off, so I looked around. There were no towels. I frowned. I didn't really want to put on my clothes while I was wet – I didn't really like wet underwear. My clothes were gone as well.

My mind cleared a bit at the panic. Here I was, in Amanda's pool house, dripping wet, and there were no clothes. No keys. No cell phone. No wallet. Nothing. I was so screwed.

"Josh?" Came Amanda's voice from outside, "Everything ok?"

What could I do? There was only the one door, and there was nothing in here to wear or cover myself with. I thought about my options. I could run, try to get out of the backyard. Then what? My car was locked. I couldn't run across town naked.

Maybe this was some kind of mistake? "Um..." I said.

"Are you missing anything?" There was laughter in her voice.

How could I have been so stupid? She'd lured me in with her statements and kindness, now I was naked in her backyard. Why was it so hard to think?

The lock on the door popped, and the door opened. I jumped, and immediately moved to turn away and cover myself. I waited for the click of a camera or laughter, or something. Instead, still in her bikini, Amanda stood there looking at me, appraising. "Josh," she said, "You seem to be missing your clothes."

I was suddenly furious, "You think? What the hell?"

She backed up, releasing the door and letting it swing open. "I think," She said slowly, "that you're in a pit of a predicament. One I want to help you with."

"Then give me back my clothing," I snapped.

"No," she said, "Not until you've done something for me."

She looked me right in the eyes, making sure she had my attention, then she pulled at the strings on either side of her barely there bikini bottom. It fell away. My eyes locked on the fabric, but only for the second it took to fall away from her crotch, then my eyes focused on the skin revealed underneath. She had a tiny little 'W' of hairless skin underneath. My mind did a complete flip. Had Amanda really just taken off her bikini in front of me? My body thought so, as my cock jumped to an erection so fast it hurt.

Amanda pulled up a chair, and sat down. She leaned back and spread her legs. Her pussy opened like a flower. The outer lips pulled back a bit, and the inner ones were revealed. I could see the way the inner labia crinkled and lay open. At the top, where they met, there was a tiny little bump of skin, then the cleft of her vagina spreading open under that. "I want you to go down on me," she said, "then you can have your clothes back."

I'd seen pictures of girl's pussies on the Internet. Seen them in dozens of porn movies while masturbating up in my room. I'd never seen one in real life before. I couldn't take my eyes off of her crotch. She cleared her throat, "You have ten seconds to get between my legs, or I'll keep your clothes and you can walk home from here."

I looked at her, she was completely serious. "10," she intoned.

I didn't know what to do.

"9", she said.

I turned toward her, still covering myself with my hands. Not that it mattered, as I couldn't really hide the erection completely. I was slightly unsteady on my feet.

"8," she motioned me forward and to her crotch.

I stepped from the changing room, and toward her. There was only a handful of spaces, but it seemed like a huge distance.

"7", she ran a finger along the crack of her pussy.

I reached her as she said, "6."

I didn't know what to do, or how to do this to a girl. I had no experience whatsoever. "Kneel, NOW!" she ordered.

I knelt in front of her, my eyes at the level of her open pussy. "Now, lick me!"

How? I'd seen videos, but that was nothing to compare with reality. I guess I would just lick, and hope for the best. When my cautious tongue ran up her opening for the first time, she sighed. I got a bit bolder, licking her clit and labia. She tasted of musk and pool water. I couldn't believe I was actually doing this. Arguably the most beautiful girl in school, and here I was with my head between her thighs. How could she blackmail me for this? How was she going to turn this against me?

She grabbed my head, and mashed my face tight against her crotch as she shook suddenly and moaned. I tried to continue, but she pressed her thighs together, pinning my head. "Fuck, yeah," she gasped, "I needed that."

She pushed me back away from her crotch, "Did you like the taste of my pussy?"

I looked at her, what was I supposed to say? I could feel the spread spittle and her juices drying on my face. The slight muskiness in my nose. "Yes?"

"Good," she said, "You'll be doing a lot of that."

My mind reeled. A lot of that? Did that mean she expected I was going to be going down on her a lot? "Stand up," she ordered.

I was still feeling cloudy, probably cloudier since I wasn't angry right now – just confused. She helped me to my feet. I stood, and my erection stood out from me. She wrapped herself around me, her tits against my back. I realized we were about the same height – I had maybe an inch on her. She took one of my hands and guided it to my cock, "Take it in your hand," she purred in my ear.

I did, not sure why I did. Her hand was on mine, and mine was wrapped around my erection. "I want to see you cum. I want you to cum for me." She moved her hand, making mine move, "Stroke it for me."

She put her other hand down and cupped my balls, her mouth right at my ear, "Cum for me."

God, I was so hard, with her tits pressed against my back, and her arms around me, I couldn't think. Her right hand made mine pump slowly, and her left hand massaged my balls. It was too much. I'd always cum easily, and with her doing this, it was no exception. A few pumps later, and a stream of cum shot out of my cock, splattering on the pavement. She knocked my hand out of the way, and grabbed my cock hard, pumping it fast. The sensation was so intense, it was almost painful. Usually after I reached orgasm, I would stop and wait for the sensations to die down, not continue going. I groaned, and reached for her hand. "Don't you dare!" she warned me. I didn't know what to do, so I fought against the sensations until they turned back to pleasure, then found myself cumming again with a groan.

She unwrapped herself from me, "Ok Josh, sit." She motioned to a chair and she sat back down in the one she had used when I went down on her.

I sat, feeling content and satisfied. I couldn't believe she had given me a hand job.

"You have two choices," she told me, "the first is that you become my sex toy. The second is that I accuse you of trying to rape me."

I was stunned, "What?"

She smiled, it wasn't a friendly smile, "You become my personal fuck toy, or I claim you tried to rape me. I have your DNA," she waggled a hand, "I can smear this on my pussy, claim you overpowered me and fucked me. My word against yours."

"But," I began, "I didn't, I wouldn't."

"Oh," she said, "I'm sure you wouldn't. Doesn't matter though – what will happen to you if people think you're a rapist? Even if it is eventually proved wrong, your life will be over."

I was shocked. My mind was still fuzzy, but I could image the fallout from that kind of implication. Here I was, naked in her backyard, as was she. She could easily claim I'd come over for a study session, we'd gone swimming, and I'd tried to force myself on her. "Do I have a choice?"

"Certainly," she said brightly, "But I would think fuck toy is better than prison."

"I guess so," I admitted.

"No," she said sternly, "I want to hear you say it. I want to hear you say, 'I'm Amanda's fuck toy'."

What real choice did I have? "I'm Amanda's fuck toy."

"Perfect!" she got up, "Come with me."

She led me back to the house, still with no clothing on. I watched her cute ass as I followed her, but junior was still recovering, so he barely responded.

We went into the house, and she opened a door off the kitchen. She flicked on the light, and headed down a set of carpeted stairs to the basement. I followed her. It was cooler in the house, and I had goose flesh up and down my arms and legs. In the basement, which was furnished, she went to a side door, which she opened, and motioned me through. I went in. The room was carpeted, and had some cabinets on the wall. The only thing in the room was what looked like a padded sawhorse in the middle of the space. There were cuffs at the base of the sawhorse.

"Lean over the saw horse," she told me.

"Amanda, I," I said, and she slapped my ass with her hand, hard.

"Listen, fuck toy," she growled, "Lean over the saw horse."

Maybe the fake rape conviction wouldn't be the worst option? I did as she bid. She efficiently tied my wrists down, leaving me hanging over it with my ass in the air. "Good fuck toy," she told me, patting my ass. She opened a cabinet and took out a two foot long steel bar with cuffs on either end. She strapped one of the cuffs to one ankle, "Move your legs apart," then she did the other ankle.