Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
“Nice ass, Becky!” Marcus yelled from the top of his lungs from the other side of the school’s hallway, directing his crass comment at me. Fucking prick. I hated Marcus. I dealt with him enough throughout high school. It was senior year, and I was still dealing with him! He was one pompous asshole. Black and lean with firm, hard muscles and muscular thighs, Marcus was a multisport all-state athlete, played defensive back in football, and he was lauded for it. He liked to call himself ‘Primetime’ after some old football player by the name of Dion Sanders or somebody. Pardon my French, but it was so fucking annoying to walk around the school and hear everybody call Marcus “Priiiiimetime”, exaggerating and emphasizing the word every single time. It was just my luck that I had multiple classes with him every year, and senior year was brutal. In class, he would prattle on about his conquests and brag about his ability to pull just about any girl. Marcus often liked picking on me the most, because unlike other girls, I wasn’t a promiscuous whore, or I figured I wasn’t. He told me I shouldn’t play so hard to get, but I would just roll my eyes at him. I’m a short, overly tanned Hispanic girl with a way too big butt that causes me to jump up and down every morning when attempting to put jeans on. Marcus liked to call me out on my ass, oftentimes pinching it, slapping it, grabbing it and telling me that I should, ‘let him get a crack it’. I consistently had verbal artillery for Marcus, too. He learned the hard way that if he was going to pinch my ass, he was going to receive a slap from a demonic bitch. He liked to say my slaps didn’t hurt, or that he liked the pain, but I found it satisfying to watch his face turn red after giving him a taste of my palm. He had a distinct scar on his forehead, too, allegedly from some kind of farcical backyard boxing with his dumbshit friends. I liked to crack jokes to him that he only got that scar from fucking his boyfriend too hard and hitting the bedpost. He would always turn around and say that he and I could give him more scars if I wanted, always with a wink on his face. Ankara escort Fucking pervert. It was a Friday night during football season, and being a cheerleader, I was tired by the game’s end. However, I was horny as hell; I just wanted to go to my boyfriend Jared’s house to fuck. That wasn’t an option, unfortunately. He was home, allegedly sick, and he didn’t want any visitors. He was usually a sweet boyfriend, but he acted like a menstruating bitch when I asked him if he wanted me to bring him any soup. He had this amazing girlfriend, and he didn’t want to see me? Maybe I was putting myself on a pedestal. Fuck if I know. I just didn’t care about bringing myself to an orgasm alone. Nothing beats being bent over and fucked. I loved being felt up, feeling my ass cheeks bounce off a pair of thighs. ‘Well, I guess it isn’t happening tonight!’ I said to myself. I stood in the parking lot outside the stadium waiting for my best friend Chelsea to pick me up. It only figured that she was in the backseat of her boyfriend Matt’s car sucking his dick and what have you. Fucking cunt. After sweating profusely during the game, soiling my red velvet panties, I was feeling a bit chilly and just wanted to go home. It wasn’t a good night up to that point. As I pulled out my phone to text Chelsea, a white car pulled up beside of me and I heard the windows roll down. What the fuck is this, I thought, almost intimidated because it was dark and it’s a bad omen to be a girl standing out in a parking lot at night wearing a cheerleading uniform. “Becky!”. . . I looked over, and for fuck’s sake, it was Marcus. “Oh, God, what do you want?” I asked annoyed, rolling my eyes. “’Oh, God’? I know I’m God!” he bombastically stated with his usual grin, flashing his ‘Priiiimetime’ smile (what a fucking joke!). “Listen, I’m going to give you a ride home, because I feel bad as hell for leaving you out here standing around lookin’ like a fool. Who’s supposed to pick you up, anyway?” “Chelsea’s giving me a ride,” I said. “She’s going to be here in a minute, so you can just go on.” Marcus shook his Ankara escort bayan head. “Yeah, any minute being more like an hour. Just text her and tell her I’m giving you a ride home. Besides, where the fuck is your boyfriend?” He inquired. “He’s home. Sick!” I said. “Yeah, sick of yo ass,” he shot back. “He’s probably at a house party with two babes, one bent over and the other rimming him silly!” He joked, again flashing his smile. “Fuck you! He’d never do any of that to me. . . he loves me,” I defensively retorted. Fucking Marcus and his stupid ass jokes. “Yeah, people who love each other all the time get it on with other people. Just get in the fuckin’ car. I’m fuckin’ hungry as hell after playing some Priiiimetime shutdown corner football!” Marcus emitted. I rolled my eyes and begrudgingly opened the passenger door and sat down. From my purse, I pulled out my phone and began texting Chelsea to let her know that I had a ride, while Marcus exited the parking lot. The entire time I could feel his eyes on me. I pulled the bottom of my cheerleading skirt down as much as I could to cover my legs a bit more. “Watch the fucking road,” I said to him. “Yeah, yeah, I’m hungry as shit. I’m going to stop by McDonald’s. You want anything?” He asked. I nodded. “Well, I’mma get you a side of a new pain reliever called the Uptight Bitch McReducer. It’s the number sixty-nine on the dollar menu!” he said with a laugh. What a lame ass joke. As usual, with all of his retarded quips, I rolled my eyes in disgust. We took off down the road, as I sat with my arms crossed. “You know, we’ll be graduating in seven months, and yet all you’ve done is shoot me down, never giving me a shot,” Marcus mused. “I mean, shit, we joke at each other all the time. We have chemistry, so how do you know we won’t have sexual chemistry?” “First of all,” I began, “I ‘shoot you down’ because you say stupid shit. Second of all, we don’t joke with each other, or at least I don’t joke with you. And sexual chemistry? We don’t have any chemistry, but what the fuck is sexual chemistry?” “Yeah, you Escort Ankara shoot me down,” Marcus replied with a smirk. “If you aren’t joking with me at school all the time, then why do you have a big grin on your face whenever you joke?” “Again, I’m not fucking joking!” I said exasperated. “I smile because other people hear what I say, and they laugh, so I laugh, because it’s funny.” “There ya go, then. It’s fuckin’ funny, because it’s a joke!” he said with a burst of laughter. “And those people don’t laugh because you are funny. They laugh ‘cause an uptight chick is trying to insult Priiiimetime!” “Ugh!” I grunted loudly, crossing my arms even tighter. “Just shut the fuck up.” We stopped by McDonald’s, and Marcus ate the food that he ordered in the parking lot. The entire time, I stared out the window. Words weren’t shared between us, but it was only because Mr. Loud Mouth himself was too busy eating like a pig. Shortly after he finished eating, we left, and he asked me for directions to my house. As I disclosed to him where I lived, he startled me with something he said. “Look, I say all the bullshit that I say because you are really pretty,” Marcus said in a very genuine and serious voice. “I act like the way I do to impress my friends and keep my reputation as the slick, ballsy dude. But seriously, you are gorgeous, and I’m going to really miss you when school is over with, because I won’t have the same girl to joke with.” “You will just find some other girl to replace me,” I told him. “There are plenty of other ‘uptight bitches’ out there to make cat calls at.” I had my bitch shield still turned on. “There won’t be another Becky,” Marcus said with confidence. He slowed down with his driving, as nobody appeared to be behind us as there were no cars in front of us. “No other girl with the same silky smooth brown hair or the same blueish-gray eyes. . . oh, and don’t get me started on that smile and those lips.” After hearing his compliments, I almost grinned, but I stopped myself. I hesitated for a while. There was a brief silence. I didn’t know what to say, really, but I kept thinking about how he would always tell me that I was uptight. I didn’t think I was, but his constant statements were drilled into my head. “Do you really think I’m uptight?” I asked. “Be completely honest. No joking this time.” “Honestly? You really haven’t gone out of your way to have fun in high school.
Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
