On The List

Apparently, you cheered swimmers by screaming their name when their heads came up to take a breath. So the result was a percussive beat of voices surging, shouting, then quieting; surging, shouting, then quieting... so on and so forth, driving me into a state of terminal boredom.

So I wandered around among the swimmers instead. The senior guy swimmers.

I think I've mentioned that I like swimmers' bodies; they're a nice shape, the endurance is good, and they're not squeamish about showing off. Besides, if you run out of pillowtalk with most boys, there's nothing to do but fuck again; with swimmers, you can at least discuss shaving and waxing techniques. And there's always less hair to pick out of your teeth afterward.

So I was enjoying myself, brushing up against the nearly-naked male bodies, looking meaningfully down at their ridiculous little swimsuits, and enjoying their attention in return; in many cases, it was exceedingly obvious that they were into me. I mentioned the ridiculous little swimsuits, after all. I swear to god, I think I checked out more meat there than my mom did when she went to the deli. Swim meets, it appeared, were like penile smorgasbords.

Maybe I should show up at these more often.

That's how I found myself inside a tight circle of tall, smiling young men, chatting with Jeff Klimas. I'd gone to elementary school with him, but he hadn't looked like this back then: like all the rest of the swimmers at the meet, they were all built like ice cream cones, with broad muscular shoulders and bodies that tapered down to their slim feet. He was super-fine, but I wasn't into him: he was a good boy. "So," I purred, giving him one of my better smiles, "are swim meets always this exciting?"

If he knew that was sarcasm, he gave no sign. "Naw, but this one is for first place in the League." He stood there with his hands on his hips, preening for me, which amused me because I could look over his shoulder and see his girlfriend smoldering in the stands, looking like she wanted to skullfuck me with a pair of scissors. Ha, bitch! Your man's talking to me, not you. Maybe Jeff wasn't such a good boy after all.

Some guy pressed into me from the side, leading with his speedo-clad crotch, and I felt that familiar old sensation of a flaccid penis, warm and squishy against my upper hip. I wondered who it was. "Are they letting Chad Pfeiffer swim today?" I asked Jeff, shading my eyes with my left hand; my right was busy, scratching a notional itch over on my hip.

"Yeah. He finished his suspension yesterday." Jeff was taking advantage of his sunglasses to stare at my boobs, but I didn't mind. Hell, I couldn't complain; I was about to grope one of his teammates' dicks. It was there now against the back of my hand as I "scratched" my "itch," and as I finished up I reversed my hand and there it was, hot and fat in the palm of my hand, that anonymous penis behind its insubstantial swimsuit. I gave it a quick squeeze before I brought my hand back around, still with no clue who I'd tweaked.

I loved this kind of shit. This would absolutely not be my last swim meet. Out of the corner of me eye I saw Brittani, watching me closely, hopefully taking mental notes. That's right, you little skank, I thought, my eyes making meaningful contact with hers. She could go far, with a body like hers. Watch me. Copy me. Do what I do. And later, once you're a senior, you're going to own this fucking school just like I do.

"Where's he at?" I asked casually. "I wanted to see him, say hi. I saw the fight, of course." I let myself give a genteel little shiver, like I was ashamed to admit that. "Looked like Zach really hurt him."

Jeff flapped his hand. "Nah," he breezed. "He didn't do nothing. That little pencil-dicked geek got his ass beat. Chad's got a couple of bruises, a scratch or two; whatever." He glanced over his shoulder at his girlfriend, that sad little muppet now halfway out of her seat and preparing to come flying over the fence with her nails out, ready to claw my face off. "He's warming up right now," he went on, jerking his head back toward the diving pool.

And, with that, I was all done with Jeff Klimas and his little knot of admirers. I pirouetted casually, still trying to figure out whose dick I'd grabbed. Well, no matter; any of them would have done just fine. "Excuse me, boys," I drawled. "I'm off to spread a little more cheer love. Good luck in the water!" I gave a few hugs: nothing too scandalous, with the grandparents present, but it's possible I gave Jeff's ass a gentle little swat as I broke off. In all the confusion, I could hardly be blamed if my hand accidentally made contact, right? He was smiling at me as I whirled away; his girlfriend was not.

Chad was floating on his back in the middle of the diving pool, and I beckoned him over as I squatted beside the water in the shade of the high board, my arm resting casually on the aluminum ladder that led out of the water. Of course, with my cheer skirt, this meant the boys in the pool could look right up at where my camel toe would be in full effect against the standard-issue boyshorts we wore under there. "How's it going, Chad?"

It was time.

He drifted over, wary, acting as nerdy as ever. He had a bruise the size of a quarter on his left cheekbone, but it was a fading yellow. His eyes narrowed. "Kelly?"

"Hi, Chad." I wasn't trying to be consciously sexy; I sensed I didn't need to be. Everything I knew about Chad Pfeiffer told me he was probably a virgin; wouldn't do to scare him away. As he got closer, I went to my knees and smoothed down my skirt. If he was going to look up under there, he already had; time to put the toys away. I beamed down at him. "I saw your fight last week. Who was that little piece of shit? Zach something?" He probably didn't know it, but the narrowed eyes made him look supercilious, cynical... even dangerous?

Sort of like he'd looked pummeling Zach.

"Zach Norris." He was treading water. "What do you need, Kel?"

"I'm just wondering," I smiled, "what happened to the funny, goofy old Chad Pfeiffer I always sat next to. He was such a nice kid; why's he putting the boot into Zach fucking Norris?" I didn't bat my eyebrows, exactly; that would have been overdoing it. But I was feeling a distinct urge to move this along a bit, for the wet concrete under my knees was most uncomfortable. "I don't know if you know this, Chad," I went on, my smile curdling a bit, "but a lot of girls think guys who fight are... well, kind of sexy."

He was still looking up, showing no real interest. Very wary, actually. I chalked it up to the impending race, or maybe to the lingering shock of having beat the shit out of his best friend. Either way, I found it very attractive. "Really."

"Really." I gnawed at my lower lip. "Sexier than funny, goofy kids." I winked. "If you know what I'm saying." Goddamn my lack of preparation in forgetting my shades! I was dying to look down into the clear, smooth water to see what was happening to his cock, but without shades he'd know. I waited a moment, then lowered my voice to a slithering whisper as the loudspeaker crackled behind me, its squawking syllables sounding like Dutch. "Do you know what I mean?"

But he had cocked his head. "They just called my race, Kel," he said distantly. "Gotta go."

I watched as he drifted toward the little railed ladder leading out of the pool, the ladder I'd been very careful to position myself right next to. "We'll talk later, though." My tone did not give him any option, and as he emerged from the water looking like his smooth body had been freshly lacquered, I made no bones about staring at his dick, now clearly and obviously lumping his shiny swimsuit. I looked up at him with an open-mouthed grin. "My! You must be excited for your race, Chad."

He paused and looked back down at me, his skin going red under the streaming water. I straightened slowly, my back erect, letting him look down and see me kneeling right there in front of him with my mouth open. His cock wasn't hard yet, but it wasn't soft either. It took a decided turn to the right, stretching fat across the top of his thigh. I peered at it, being very obvious, and I was encouraged when he made no effort to move. I knew that if I stayed that way long enough, he'd go even harder.

But he had a race to get to; some other guy was climbing out of the pool behind him, taking an obvious look at my breasts as he went.

Chad opened his mouth as if to say something, but I didn't let him. "I could handle that for you, if you want," I tossed out casually, shrugging. His eyes widened. "I mean, to prevent drag in the water. If it would help you win..." I stared up, my face the picture of earnest innocence. "I mean, it's for the school. And I'm a cheerleader, so..."

Poor bastard, he still had no clue what to say. But his coach was hollering at him, so I got smoothly up. "Guess not. Good luck, Chad." I winked again and let him see me stare up and down his gleaming body. "Yeah," I murmured. "We'll talk later." And then I walked away, seeing Brittani's face shining with admiration while Abi just looked vaguely off into space like she'd just let off a fart, and I knew I'd set the hook.

He won his race, despite what must have been considerable drag from his cock. I like to think I was responsible for that, him wanting to perform with me watching, but the truth is that he'd made me horny. So by the time he hit the water, I was already gone, in the locker room, playing with Jeff Klimas. He wasn't really a bad boy, but I could get him to cheat on his girlfriend with me. That was close enough.

* * *

I was shocked and very, very pleased when Chad was the one who initiated contact the next day. Old, nerdy Chad would not have been expected to do that. But he did, finding me in the halls between second and third period as I was trying to get mentally prepared for another hour of calculus. "Hi, Kelly," he said, sort of low and sullen; he was headed toward the English hallway.

"Chad!" I strode straight up to him, there in front of god and everybody, and I shoved my body straight at his in a fearless hug, the kind where you don't bend your waist; no sir. Full contact. I might have overnoodled the ramen a bit when I leaned up to lay a kiss on his bruise, but given what I was planning to do to him sometime soon, a kiss was nothing. Even a public kiss; kids were still passing, glancing curiously at us. Why, they were asking themselves, was Kelly Pinsent smashing her body against a nerd? Well, they could all just go fuck themselves. Besides, I knew this was good for Chad: if other girls knew I was after him, they'd be crawling all over each other to fuck him. Chad Pfeiffer had a nice little future planned out for him in the few months before graduation; he'd be balls-deep in whomever he wanted as soon as it became common knowledge I was after him. "How's it going, hon?"

"Okay." Shit, this kid was cautious! He was careful to stifle either a smile or a grimace; I couldn't tell. But at least he did reliably look down my shirt, which was the whole point of the v-neck I was wearing. "A kiss? What was that for?" He wasn't sure what to do with his hands, so he settled for rubbing at his bruise.

"Shit, babe! You won at the swim meet yesterday! And I never got a chance to congratulate you." I winked. "I'm glad I was able to inspire you to such great efforts, Chad. I, uh..." at this point, I gave a very low and very feminine chuckle, "I'm glad your cock didn't slow you down. I could see where things were going at the warm-up pool," I purred. He was a nerd; he'd obviously never been spoken to this way before, but you know what? It was time he started. He was a good-looking bad boy; we needed to be fucking. The universe deserved it. I focused my eyes on his. "Want me to do something about that? We can do it right now, if you want."

He had to know what I was talking about, with my arms loose around his neck and my hips tight against his. I was thinking I'd start feeling some sort of erection down there soon, but the fucking hallways were clearing out and we needed to get this going right away. There was a calc pop quiz in my near future, or at least that's what the first-period kids had told me. I couldn't ditch the whole class. He stared down at me with disbelief, lust, and the teensy-tiny beginnings of self-confidence. "Why?" he asked, and I was pleased when his voice didn't crack. Dude had figured out where to put his arms, anyway; they were low and slack across my back.

I giggled. "Why not?" It was a whisper, my face moving close so he could smell my breath. He felt tall and solid against me; he'd be a good lay, once I got him loosened up. "So... now? Or later?" Pleasepleaseplease now, I begged him silently; my brain, the part that was always ready for dick, was remembering him smashing Zach to pieces, the added memory of the lump under his speedos already sending strong signals to my vagina.

But alas! he was looking around, his adam's apple bobbing, and I knew it was too much to expect: sex at school is a big step, even for bad boys. I knew I could get him to do it, but it would take too long and he might regret it. And nobody, but nobody, was allowed to regret sex with me.

Nobody.

I patted his face. "Later, I guess." I infused my voice with a soft balance of promise mixed with regret, and I gave him the smile I only give to lovers. "I'll text you tonight, baby." I thought about another kiss, but instinct told me I should leave him with nothing but another subtle grind of my mound against his cock, and yes! There it was, jammed behind his shapeless jeans! The squirming beginnings of his hard-on. Perfect. I unraveled my arms and, with one last wink, turned toward the joys of AP calc.

"Wait!" He glanced down; he clearly wanted to adjust himself, but he was in the middle of a crowded hallway. "Do you have my number?"

I laughed, backing away from him. "Oh Chad," I grinned, rolling my eyes, "do you really think I can't get your number?" He was already shifting his glance down as I started my turn, transparently checking out my ass as he walked away, and I hummed to myself as I strode in and laid my notebook loudly on my desk. "Hi, Mr Jarvis!" I called out, still in a good mood. "Pop quiz today, huh?"

The room lights shone off his bald dome as he looked up. "Hi, Kelly. Yes."

I kept my volume up, not caring who heard. "I need the bathroom pass," I told him flatly. "Female problems." He scowled, but of course he could say nothing. And it wasn't even a lie; that trip to the bathroom definitely had something to do with my vagina, though not what was coming out of it.

And as I crouched over the toilet and leaned on the stall doors, stroking myself to a killer orgasm, I was extremely pleased with how this whole Chad thing was going. Christ, the way he'd left poor Zach, all toothless and limp like a deflated pair of balls!

I came hard. Then I went back and nailed my pop quiz.

* * *

Chad had swim practice after school. I knew that because I spied on the practice from the upper field, and because I have common sense. I watched absently as I put the younger cheerleaders through their stretches, thinking about lunch.

The big news there was that Zach Norris had been back, his first day after the fight; what a fucking pansy, taking four school days to recover from a beatdown! Even with the missing teeth, he should have come back the very next day, waited around in the hall with a knife, and given Chad a fucking scratch. He might have gone to jail for a couple days, but the pussy would be absolutely lining up when he walked out, and I'd have been at the head of the line.

He and Chad had avoided each other until they absolutely couldn't anymore, and then they'd finally sat down at one of the lunch tables, heads down, and exchanged a few quiet words. And then, I guess, it was over between the two of them; by the time their friends had arrived with their food, they were the same six-pack of nerds they'd always been.

Except for one thing. Chad. I'd been staring at him from the cheerleader table by the door, and he'd been staring back at me, all moody and shit. On a whim, I'd given him a wave and a wink, and I was gratified when he replied with a smirk. Nice. He'd felt the joy of being a bad boy, begun to reap the rewards as I'd hugged him in the halls, and now he wanted more.

Me too. In my mind's eye I imagined me texting him something racy, then sitting back and watching as he stood up, knocked little Zach's lunch into his lap, and beat the shit out of him again.

But no. He'd just gone back to his cafeteria lasagna, I'd gone back to my fantasies, and now I was watching him cavort in the water. I'd fuck him soon, I'd already decided: tonight at his house, or tomorrow in the faculty lounge or the locker room; whatever.

I sighed and glanced at where Abi and Jenn were trying to get the new routine down. "Come on, you useless fucking slugs!" I yelled nastily. "Get it fucking right!" Goddamn sniveling little Abi just glanced back at me mournfully, and I had to suppress the urge to march over there and kick her head in. She wasn't even that good at the basics, the smiling and shouting and jumping; she was just about useless, in fact.

Not like Brittani, now off to the side doing backflips with the advanced group.

I sighed. The swimmers were getting out of the water, shivering, going for their towels, which meant it was time for me to get going. "Hey, Nicole!" I shouted to one of the other captains. "Can you take over here? I need to take a pee break!"

"Sure." Nicole was an even harder bitch than I was, and she was also a virgin. So she had that repression thing going on, which just made her worse to the underclassmen. "Bitch, what the fuck is wrong with you?" She smacked irritably at Jenn's arm where it wasn't quite vertical.

They were in good hands.

I was practically skipping as I headed down toward the pool, and I knew I looked good: every part of me tight and sweaty and healthy, nothing concealed by the skimpy spandex I was rocking today. Pink, mostly; certainly not black. Boys can't see what you've got when your clothes are too dark. I rounded the corner of the big, fortress-like wall around the pool; no idea who the fuck they were trying to keep out of there. Zombies? A fence would have worked just fine.

In any case, the wall had a gate that faced the side of the gym, and that gate was currently belching forth swimmers in an impressive, rippling clump of tanned, tight legs and even tighter suits. The girl-swimmers, all of them tall and flat of chest and ass, had their hair completely totaled by the chemicals in the pool; I shuddered. No fucking way.

But there he was, bringing up the rear of the line, stalking beside some other geek. "Shit!" I exclaimed, as if I was there totally by chance. "Chad fucking Pfeiffer, in the flesh! How's it going, kiddo?"

The guy with Chad stared at me as though he'd never seen a real woman before, his mouth flopping open. I recognized him from their lunch table. Chad looked, too, and I straightened up so that both could get their eyeful. "Hi, Kelly."

"Who's this sweet little morsel?" I purred, bestowing a happy smile on the other geek. I winked at him. "Chad, you're going to need to start introducing me to your friends, if we're going to get to know each other better." I stuck out my hand, but the geek shrank back as though I were made of radium. "Oh, come on. I don't bite." I waggled my eyebrows suggestively; I had them expensively maintained, so I might as well use them. "Much."

"Kelly Pinsent, Mike Hovsepian." The boy took my hand, swallowing. He was Armenian; swimming was quite a commitment for him, with all the waxing. I smiled warmly.

"I'd give you a hug, Mikey, but I stink like a motherfucker." He was still staring. "Look, sweetie, why don't you head on out so I can talk to my friend Chad here? Sound okay?" Mike had said nothing at all, and that trend continued as he fled. Undoubtedly he'd felt a boner coming on, and he wanted to disappear before I noticed; poor boy. I grinned at Chad. "A man of few words?"