Just a Nice Boy Ch. 02

At the Sunday evening service, my father did point out that it had been me that suggested he talk about Jesus sitting and talking with sinners, the lepers, the outcasts, the prostitutes. But somehow, he managed to work it all around to the fires of hell and eternal damnation as always.

Monday, right before Donna and I left to pick up Linda and Derek, Dad gave me the keys to the pickup truck.

"Here; drive it around, make sure it's running right," he said. "Hate like the dickens for you be out on the road to Atwell and have it break down on you."

I drove the Isuzu out to Connelly Stadium. Even though it was still bright daylight, there were already four or five cars in the popular make out spot.

I pulled Donna out of the cab and we lay down in the bed of the pickup truck and kissed. Then I played with her breasts and she rubbed my cock through my jeans.

"You uh, you really, you and Linda, y'all really do it, up the butt?" she asked.

"Roll over," I ordered.

I did to her exactly what I did to Linda. Of course, with Donna, I had to jerk her cheap blue jeans and full cotton briefs down to her knees.

But as soon as I'd exposed her cute little butt, I began tonguing her.

"Ugh!" Donna cried out.

Then I spread her buttocks apart as far as possible and delved my tongue into her anus.

"God, Brandon that's, oh, God!" Donna protested, then shuddered as I tickled her wet pussy with my other hand.

When I jammed a finger into her ass while rubbing her clitoris, she grunted in orgasm.

I managed to get two fingers deep in her ass while fingering her clit.

Then I rolled off of her and let her catch her breath.

Donna and I kissed again, then she demonstrated what she'd managed to learn about blow jobs. Derek was one lucky man, getting Donna's sweet mouth wrapped around his meat as often as she could manage to get the two of them alone.

We were almost ten minutes late picking Linda and Derek up, and Derek teased Donna. Linda just slapped me when I told her I'd been too busy trying to get my sister's cherry and lost all track of time.

Derek and Donna scrambled into the bed of the truck and leaned against the back windshield. Linda glued herself against me inside of the cab of the truck.

"Really? You really going leave me?" she asked, a catch in her throat.

"College, Linda," I said. "Uh, but college isn't forever. You and me? We're forever."

All I was doing was quoting her crappy music to her, but it did the trick. I got a slow, loving blow job all the way to the Sweet Oak Super Six. Then, the minute the lights dimmed inside the theater, my jeans were jerked down and Linda greased up my cock.

Donna's eyes were wide as she watched my fat pole disappear into Linda's poop chute. Linda gave a strangled bark, a grunt. Then we sat, shivering slightly.

Then we humped, trying not to make the crappy seat squeak. There weren't many people in the theater, but all it takes is one loud mouth to blab to get everyone's attention.

I reached around and played with Linda's big tits while she wiggled on my cock. Then I brought a finger down to her pussy and rubbed her fat little nub.

"Mother fucker," Linda hissed as she orgasmed.

I looked over at Donna as she watched us fuck. She leaned over the arm rest and gave me a hot kiss. Then she gave Linda a hot kiss, plenty of tongue. Linda screamed into Donna's mouth as I began spurting my jizz up her tight shitter.

Then of course, they had to go to the bathroom together. What is about women? Guys don't have to go to the bathroom together. And if we do? We don't fucking turn it into a social thing. We shit, we get.

I used a wad of cheap movie theater napkins dipped in Donna's cup of lemonade to clean my cock of lube and poop. Derek watched me do this and laughed. We both knew Donna would be horrified that I had done this, even though the napkin went into her drink BEFORE they touched my soiled dick, not AFTER.

When they returned, Linda made me scoot over one more seat so she and Donna could sit together. They whispered, they giggled, they even kissed every now and then.

"Y'all even watching this movie?" both Derek and I asked them a few times.

We were shushed for our troubles. But both Derek and I thought the same thing. If we had known neither Linda nor Donna would be paying a bit of attention to the movie, we would have picked a movie we wanted to see.

The next few days whizzed right by. I made love to Linda three more times, got another blow job from my sister, and tongued her fragrant pussy to two screaming orgasms, and then it was time to pack the two suitcases into the back of my truck. Mom did shed a few tears as she hugged me. Dad had some moisture in his eyes as we hugged.

Donna wailed as we hugged. She did not want to let go of me, but Vickie, Derek, and Linda were waiting their turn to tell me good bye.

"Please, please promise me, swear to God," Linda begged as she molded herself to me.

It was hard to understand her over her snuffling and sobbing, but she made me promise I would be coming back.

"Like anyone else would want me, huh?" I tried to joke.

*.*.*

Brandon Wright fell silent for a moment. Albert Rosenberg woke up only because he noticed that the cell had become silent.

"I mean, always acting so bad ass, real tough bitch, you know?" Brandon said, green eyes clouding over slightly.

"Oh well, he sighed and smiled. "But, boy did I find out; college is not high school."

8.8.8

The guard pointed out where I should park, wished me a nice day, then closed the heavy gate behind me.

Atwell College was on three hundred acres of beautiful Idaho land. There was green grass along the drive from gate to student parking lot. Just beyond the manicured lawns was thick trees. The buildings that I could see were sparkling white, with dark black roofs, dark black shutters and doors. The buildings appeared to be old, grand buildings. But then again, Atwell College had been in existence since 1889; many of these buildings, I was sure had been built at that time.

Before I even had my truck parked, there were five guys standing near my truck.

"Hey, that's my parking spot," the largest guy said to me.

His buddies giggled and looked at me. They were waiting to see what I'd do or say.

I just stared at him. The longer I stared at him, the more uncomfortable he grew.

"Maybe you didn't hear me," he said, getting a little closer. "I said, that's my parking spot."

"Heard you," I said. "Just wondering where your car is, if that's your parking spot."

"Now, I'll let you..." he said, then dropped when I slammed my fist into his solar plexus.

"Y'all might have noticed the Texas plates," I said to the no longer smirking, giggling idiots. "In Texas? We kick ass first, then take names afterward."

I stood on the chest of the groaning man, making sure he felt my weight.

"Don't fuck with me, I won't fuck with you," I said. "Fuck with me? I will make sure you regret it."

I got off his chest and grabbed my two suitcases.

"Oh, and if anything, I mean anything happens to my truck? I will take it out of your ass," I promised, then walked away.

They must not have believed me; someone slashed all four of my tires.

Reverend Conrad Dailey, the Dean of Students was loathe to call the police, so I did it. When he tried to chastise me, I pointed out that I had need of a police report for my insurance company.

"Unless you'd rather pay for the new tires yourself?" I suggested.

By now I'd learned the names of the five greeters and did supply the police with the names of the five senior bullies.

Reverend Dailey did harrumph and inform me that 'a little harmless tomfoolery' was a tradition of Atwell College.

"Remember the Alamo is a Texas tradition," I said to the spineless man. "I been in Texas a lot longer than I been in Atwell."

My five buddies weren't through with me. But I'd already made friends with a few that had grown tired of 'a little tomfoolery' from them. So I heard it through the grapevine that they were planning a little blanket party for me that evening.

I lay the pillows from the empty bunk next to mine on my bed, covered the pillows with a blanket, then made myself comfortable on the floor underneath.

I didn't really have to bother. Chad Minsk, one of the members of the five was giggling loud enough to wake me from a deep snoring slumber.

If his giggling hadn't awakened me, Roger Trendstill's entreaties for him to shut up would have woke me up.

Roger was the largest, therefore the leader of the group. From underneath the bed, I recognized his silver and white tennis shoes. So when the five surrounded my bed and threw their blanket over what they assumed was my sleeping form and began punching at the pillows, I reached out and gave a savage jerk to Roger's legs.

He screamed as he toppled over. Even over the squeals and laughter of the four remaining, I heard a crunch as Roger hit the ground. I crawled out from underneath my bed into the space vacated by Roger.

Chad quit giggling when I twisted him around and kneed him in the balls with all my might.

By now, the party saw that their little fun had been thwarted, and Jerry Adams turned to run. I swept his legs out from under him and he crashed into my chest of drawers.

I delivered a punch to Chad Adams' jaw that Rocky Balboa would have been proud to deliver and heard a sickening crunch.

Bobby Wells was the only one I'd not been able to connect with, but that was fine with me. His time would come.

By now, the Student Monitor of the fifth floor of Morgan Hall had come in and turned on the light. Barry Mansell wasn't a bad guy, just an unfortunate one. He had landed the difficult task of monitoring the dormitory floor for the students just coming in, many of whom had never been away from home before. They would try to bend the rules, try to break the rules, try to test his resolve.

"Uh huh," Barry grunted. "The Fearless Five finally got what's coming to them?"

Chad Minsk tried to claim it was just a misunderstanding, just a prank that got out of hand.

Roger wasn't moving, and neither was Jerry. Barry first called Reverend Dailey, then, having no choice, called the police and an ambulance from the neighboring town of Bergeron, Idaho.

When the police and the ambulance arrived, Reverend Dailey was also in my room. The spineless wimp actually had the balls to suggest to me that I might not be 'Atwell material.'

"And I doubt if you're Administration material," I snapped. "But we can let a court decide, huh?"

The paramedics grudgingly examined Chad Minsk for any permanent injuries and determined that he'd live and that his testicles would be sore for a while, but no permanent damage. Jerry Adams was placed on a stretcher. They discovered that he was still quite groggy, incoherent. Chad Adams, his twin brother would also be transported to Bergeron General; his jaw was definitely broken.

But Roger Trendstill had struck his head on the metal frame of the empty bunk in my room. The police radioed in for the Medical Examiner and we sat in the student lobby to wait.

"And he was one of our most promising..." Reverend Dailey murmured.

"He was a bully," I snapped.

"Well, at least he was saved, at least he had been born again of fire and the Spirit," the buffoon muttered.

"If that's 'saved' then I want no part of it," I thought to myself.

Bobby Wells must have thought, since he left the room before I could get to him, because Roger had perished, and since Jerry and Chad Adams were both out for at least a semester while their injuries healed, that I would forget about him. A long flight of stairs and a hard push let him know I had not forgotten about him.

I have no idea if Robert 'Bobby' Wells ever became a minister. But I do know, if he did, he's preaching from his wheelchair.

And Chad Minsk was found, hanging from a tree. The Medical Examiner ruled it a suicide.

And all of this was before I'd even set foot in my first class. My would be roommate never did show up, so for my first semester, I did have the room all to myself.

I had cautioned Linda and my sister and Derek, that any and all mail to any student at Atwell would be opened and the contents examined. Any contraband, any illicit materials found, even though I was not the originator, would land me in serious trouble. Linda obviously had not believed me; she sent a series of Polaroids of herself, nude, spreading her sweet pussy wide for Derek as he held the camera.

I only got to see those photographs as I was summoned to Reverend Dailey's office to explain them.

"My girlfriend, sir," I admitted. "I did tell her to quit trying to tempt me that sex is for a man and a woman in the bonds of matrimony, and is for procreation only."

I am more than sure that creepy little pervert kept the pictures for himself; Linda was beautiful.

I did get the letter she'd written, though. Her handwriting was horrible, her spelling atrocious. But in the letter, I found out that Vickie was pregnant. I had to wonder if the baby was mine or Derek's.

Wouldn't that be something? Her son, a product of incest with her father, the father of her baby?

When I did my Sunday lunch time call to the trailer, Linda screamed when I told her that her pictures had been confiscated and promised to send me more.

"Don't, Linda," I pleaded. "I'm already on pretty thin ice here."

Then I called home. Dad was just busting with pride, Mom was vaguely happy to hear from me, then Donna was on the phone.

Donna started off telling me all the useless gossip. Then she admitted that she missed me.

"I love you to pieces," she declared.

Which had been the same thing that Linda had said.

A week later, I got an odd package. It was a yearbook from Lloyd M. Bensen High School, wrapped inside a Lloyd M. Bensen Bruins tee shirt.

When I took the tee shirt out, I smiled. Donna and Linda had written silly messages to their man. Everything from 'I love you' to 'Sign Your Name' and 'Don't Eat Yellow Snow' among others.

"Sign your name?" more than one student asked as they saw me wearing my tee shirt.

"Name of our song," I said.

Inside Donna's yearbook, Donna and Linda had secreted three Polaroids. One showed Donna, nude, seated on a bar stool. I recognized the bar stool from Vickie's living room. Donna had shaved her pussy bald of her thick brown pubic hair.

The second was of Linda on a bar stool, also nude. Thankfully, she still had her thatch of light brown pubic hair.

The third photograph showed Donna and Linda kissing each other, each cupping a breast of the other.

I'm glad I did not have a roommate. I pounded my pud furiously looking at the pictures of my girls.

Mid-term examinations were brutal; I was truly shocked when I passed all five of my classes with a solid 'A' for the mid-terms.

Then Thanksgiving break was upon us. I gratefully loaded my suitcases in my truck and drove home. When I'd left for college, it had been a hot, sweltering summer day. Now, snow liberally covered the ground of Northern Idaho and I desperately wanted more winter clothing.

No sooner had my truck come to a stop then two beautiful Texas girls were running out of my parents' house, screaming my name. I pretended to lock my door and they both laughed joyously.

"Oh my God, oh Baby!" Linda cried, hugging and kissing me.

Donna kissed and hugged me too, but not quite as passionately as Linda. Derek and I gave each other manly hugs, then Vickie was pushing her pregnant belly into me. The smell of gin was overpowering and I was surprised my father had let her into his tee totaling home reeking as she did.

Dad shook my hand and gave me a one armed hug. Then my mother gave me a hug and asked if I was hungry.

"Ever eat at Atwell cafeteria?" I asked. "Better believe I'm hungry!"

We had dinner, and I filled them in on how college life had been thus far. Dad and Vickie filled me in on the church's activities.

"Yeah, my girl here," Dad said, arm around Vickie's shoulders. "Has been a real firecracker. She's the chairman of the membership committee and..."

"Chair person," Vickie said. "I'm the chairperson, not the chairman."

Finally, Vickie drove herself home and Dad let us take the station wagon out so the four of us could spend some time together.

Linda had pulled jeans and panties down and was squatting over my erection before Donna had even backed the car out of the driveway.

"Linda, I don't have a rubber on," I groaned as my prick was sliding into her tight, wet box.

"On the pill," Linda assured me. "Mom finally saw the light."

"She got me on the pill too," Donna admitted.

"What?" I almost screamed. "The Reverend Always Right agreed to that?"

"No, no, Miss Vickie got me on the pill," Donna said. "Took me to the doctor and said I was her daughter."

"So you two are..." I asked, fighting hard against squirting off too soon in Linda's hot pussy.

"We three are," Linda grunted, coming close.

"Yeah, loved the pictures of you two kissing," I admitted as my finger found her love button.

"Mother fucker," Linda screamed out.

We decided to go see a movie, didn't really matter which one. The moment the theater got dark, Donna leaned over, thrust her tongue into my mouth, then bent her head and sucked my cock clean of Linda's juices.

Then, to my shock, she did the same thing Linda had done. My sister pulled her jeans down and sat on my erection, taking me into her hairless slit.

"So, who's tighter?" Linda whispered in my ear.

Even though I'd just emptied my nuts into Linda's tight pussy ten minutes earlier, Donna had no trouble getting me to squirt into her beautiful pussy.

My sister lay against my chest for a long moment, content to have my arms around her. Then she got up and walked over to where Derek was waiting, hard cock ready.

Derek and I took the front of the car for the ride home while Linda and Donna lay in the back seat of the small station wagon, licking each other to orgasm.

The next day was Sunday. Exhausted or not, I was expected to attend. I dressed in the usual suit and tie that Atwell College forced us to wear when we attended their numerous services.

Dad nodded approval, recognizing the suit and tie from his time at Atwell.

"Why don't you take the sermon?" my father asked me.

I was nervous when my father announced that he would be turning his podium over to his son. Vickie and Linda and Derek sat directly in front of me, the three beaming up at me.

"How many of you here love your children?" I asked in my clear strong voice. "Don't be shy, admit it. Raise your hand if you love your children."

Every parent in the congregation did raise their hand.

"You love them? You do love them? Then why are y'all teaching them so many bad habits?" I asked. "Let me tell y'all a little joke. Every Sunday, if she's a good girl in church, Suzy's daddy takes her for ice cream after Sunday dinner. Well, one Sunday, Daddy's feeling sick. So Suzy's Mommy takes her for ice cream after their Sunday dinner.

'How was ice cream, Honey?' her daddy asked when they got back.

'Oh, the ice cream was great. And you know what? We drove there and we didn't see one dumb ass, or ignorant bastard or damned idiot the whole time!' Suzy said."

I let the laughter die down, then I hit them with it.

"Who here is guilty of that? Who here has said those things in front of their child?" I asked.

I could tell from the slightly uncomfortable faces, more than one had done just that. I did not relent. I named other minor offenses and saw the faces.

"The Lord has blessed us; He truly has. He has given us a voice. That voice should be used to glorify His name, glorify His works. In front of your children, in front of one another, let us glorify His name," I implored them.