Write It Down

*Author's Note: Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.

Disclaimers: Yes, I need an editor; no, I do not want an editor. If this fact bothers you that much kindly quit reading now. Yes, there's too many people to keep track of. Yes it jumps around too much. Yes, it's too long. Yes, it's too short. Yes, it's in the wrong category. Yes, this is stupid shit, and yes, I suck.

For everyone that has not hit the backspace key, I hope you enjoy this little tale.

*

She took the top tray out of the box of cordial cherries and peeled back the cellophane film. The first one was the perfect bell shape, signifying the Christmas Season. She placed it on her desk and again verified that she was alone.

She bent her head toward the milk chocolate treat and opened her mouth. She stretched her lips taut, covering her teeth as she slid her lips over the treat.

"Mm-hmm," she purred as her tongue now tickled the indention at the very top of the chocolate shell, the small mark that the confectioner's mold had left on the treat.

She tickled that small indention, then ran her tongue all around the dome shaped shell. Her tongue swirled around the very base of it.

Then she sat back, lifting the chocolate covered cherry from the desk's surface. One hand reached down, cupping her pubic mound through her denim shorts. This simple act always created such a heat in her pussy.

She lapped at the chocolate treat as if it was the head of a cock. Gently closing her mouth around the delicious, slowly dissolving treat, she again lapped at the small indentation, trying to force her tongue into it.

She moaned again when her ministrations did pierce the dimple. At once, her mouth began to fill with the sugar and cherry syrup mixture. The texture was similar to the seminal fluid that leaked from her boyfriend's cock when she sucked him.

She widened the hole with her tongue, seeking out the small cherry deep within the treat. There it was, imbedded in the cream.

"Mm-hmm, come for me, Baby," she murmured as her tongue emptied the treat, leaving the remnants of the shell for her to chew, then swallow.

"Ain't never seen nobody take long as you eat them damned things," her mother teased, playfully pulling on Luanne's long blonde hair.

"Why they my favorite," Luanne smiled as she peeled back the cellophane to get to the next treat.

With her mother right there, Luanne did not put the treat on the desk top. She used her hand to bring the treat to her mouth.

She did chance a quick lick around the tip, right where it started to flare out before again sliding her lips over the

"RRRIIIPPP!" And Mrs. Ortega had jerked the notebook away from Todd Moore.

A few of the students tittered, but the majority of the students were too bored in Mrs. Ortega's Earth Sciences class to care. Nearly all of the students in the class, in the school had no interest in Todd Moore; he was just another student at Lloyd M. Bentsen High School in Sweet Oak, Texas.

In an effort to embarrass Todd, Mrs. Ortega took a breath to read aloud Todd's latest poem, a sonnet he'd composed extolling his love for Luanne Holmes. But as she scanned the words, her eyes went from mean little slits to wide eyed astonishment.

"Mr. Hooper's office! Now!" she shrilled at the red faced Todd Moore.

To the rest of the class, she barked out for them to answer the questions on page two hundred fifty six. Then she marched out of the classroom, toward the principal's office.

"Jesus, whatever," more than one student grumbled.

Rory Smith convinced the majority of the students to get every single question wrong. For many, he would not have had to persuade them; they'd get the questions wrong on their own.

Adam Hooper sighed as his secretary informed him of Todd Moore and Mrs. Ortega's appearance.

"You! Sit there; I'll speak with him first," the woman snarled, piggish eyes squinting in anger.

"Damn, Todd, what'd you do this time?" Miss Tripp asked when Mrs. Ortega slammed the door of the principal's office.

The eighteen year old boy shrugged his shoulders, smiling at the attractive woman.

"She was going on and on about caves and limestone deposits and I just kind of started writing a story," Todd admitted.

Miss Tripp was an attractive woman in her late twenties or early thirties. Normally, her long red hair was piled on her head, but every now and then, like today, she had it done in a thick French braid. Her pretty face had a light dusting of freckles across her small nose, and even as she smiled at Todd, her mouth was in its usual cupid-s bow, perfect for kissing.

"Like your hair like that," Todd complimented, even as they could both hear Mrs. Ortega screaming through the thick door of the principal's office.

"Oh! Why thank you," Miss Tripp simpered.

Todd wondered if the rumors were true, that Miss Tripp was a lesbian. It would be a real shame if she was; she was beautiful. Of course, Todd knew that few men would look past the extra eighty pounds the woman packed. At five foot six, Cindy Tripp weighed two hundred and nine pounds.

Inside of his office, Adam Hooper sighed, then reached out his hand. Mrs. Ortega slapped the notebook into his hand and he read the story quickly.

"And?" he finally said.

"And? AND?" Mrs. Ortega screamed, outraged.

"He wrote about a girl eating a chocolate covered cherry and you're in my office screaming for me to suspend him?" Adam sighed.

"It's not about eating a cherry; he's describing oral sex!" Mrs. Ortega shrilled.

"Again. And?" Adam sighed.

"And it's about Luanne Holmes!" Mrs. Ortega snarled. "How many other Luanne's you know with long blonde hair?"

"And again. And?" Adam sighed. "Mrs. Ortega, I suspended every boy in this school that fantasized about oral sex with Luanne Holmes, we'd be out of boys. Then I'd have to start suspending some of the girls too."

"That man is just incompetent," Mrs. Ortega muttered hatefully as she stormed out of the principal's office.

"Mr. Moore, come see?" Adam called out.

The principal of the high school handed Todd the notebook and smirked.

"Almost makes me wonder what you would write about Hershey's Kisses, Mr. Moore," he said.

"I'll get on it right away, sir," Todd said, face bland.

"Not in Mrs. Ortega's class, huh? My hearing's not going to be able to withstand much more of her complaints," Adam said, waving the student out of his office.

Todd went through the rest of the day. Some had heard of his trouble in Mrs. Ortega's class, but many did not care.

"So, what was it this time?" Luanne smiled as Todd stood at his locker.

"Huh?" Todd asked, blushing hotly. "What was what?"

"What'd you write got Ortega so pissed off?" Luanne asked as they walked out of the school into the mid-May Texas sun.

"Wasn't about her stupid ass caves," Todd said.

"Come on, what'd you write this time?" Luanne pressed.

She touched his arm.

"I still got that one where you talking about my hair," she confided.

"Your hair is the prettiest I ever seen," Todd confessed.

The eighteen year old girl smiled a genuinely happy smile as she reached up and touched her own hair. Rory, her boyfriend usually talked about her breasts. She actually hated having such large breasts; she and her momma always had to go to Brichelle's Boutique to buy her 32E bras; Anthony's didn't carry anything larger than a Double D. So, when Todd had written an entire poem about her hair; who knew there was so many words could describe the color yellow? Luanne kept that poem, kept reading it over and over.

"Come on, let me read it," Luanne begged again.

They stopped at her car.

"I give you a ride," she bartered.

"Yeah, sure," Todd said. "Probably won't feel like after you read this."

But he dug the notebook out of his backpack. He rifled through the five section binder and found the page.

She unlocked the car than got in. She grabbed a towel from the floorboard and draped it over the hard plastic steering wheel.

"So hot after been out here all day," she explained. "Grabbed it one time? Even gave myself a big old blister."

She showed the palm of her small hand. Todd couldn't see anything, but he assumed that she probably could still see where the overheated plastic had given her a blister.

She leaned the notebook on the small console and read, lips moving silently.

"Todd!" she shrilled after a few minutes.

"Told you," he muttered.

She slapped the notebook into his lap, then started the car. She drove, hands gripping the steering wheel through the filthy towel.

Within minutes, she reached his trailer. Slamming on the brakes, she created a cloud of dust. Todd opened the car door and climbed out.

"So? What did Less write this time?" Rory asked when he called Luanne's cell phone that evening.

'Less' was his nickname for Todd Moore.

Luanne had committed as much of Todd's story to memory as she could, the licking, the swirling of her tongue, the pushing her tongue into the chocolate covered treat. She did the same thing whenever she got a carton of them Whoppers malted milk balls. Rory just stuffed a handful of them into his mouth and chomped away. But Luanne liked to eat them, one at a time, holding the ball gently between her front teeth, using her tongue to work her way into the center of the treat. Then she'd suck the malted center out, leaving the chocolate shell.

The moment she'd come home, Luanne had gone into her bathroom, shimmied out of her blue jeans, spread her legs and rubbed her blonde pussy until she shuddered in orgasm. She did love eating chocolate covered cherries, malted milk balls. But she'd never realized it was almost symbolic, a simulation of fellatio.

Luanne Holmes did love performing oral sex. She did love sucking on Rory's four inches of hard cock, swallowing him down to the root, sucking hard on his column of flesh.

She was lucky Rory was hung as well as he was. Rory had told her that half the guys at their school had one or two inch erections. The only ones that had bigger cocks than him were Delbert and Loratio, the two African-American boys at their school.

She loved sucking cock, loved sucking Rory's cock. But Luanne did not want to go all the way with Rory. Large cock or not, she was sure she was not in love with Rory Smith, even if she told him she did love him.

"It was just another one of his stupid ass poems," Luanne lied to Rory. "But, uh, what'd Becky want with you, huh?"

Becky Meadows was the only other girl in their school that also had to buy her bras at Brichelle's Boutique. Because Becky was four foot ten, her substantial chest seemed all the more substantial.

The cute little brunette had a major crush on Rory and followed him around the school, like a puppy follows their master, whining and whimpering for attention.

Rory avoided the question and instead started talking about Connelly College, the college in Oakleaf, Texas. After they both agreed that Luanne planned on majoring in nursing and Rory planned to major in Criminal Justice, they hung up.

"That boy's too stupid be some fancy lawyer," Luanne's mother scoffed.

"But he is good at lying," her father agreed.

*.*.*.*

That night she snuggled into her narrow bed, wearing her customary oversized tee shirt and bikini panties. Because of her large breasts, though, the tee shirt left a goodly portion of her belly exposed.

The ceiling fan had one blade that was slightly loose so it wobbled as it whirred. She could hear the soft rattle it made as it whirled overhead.

Her boyfriend kept talking about the 'almost' hole. It was almost sex, but she would still be a virgin. Now, in her dark bedroom, she reached down, reached into the back of her skimpy panties.

"But that's got to hurt, right?" Luanne asked.

"Never had a really big shit?" Rory asked.

"Well, yeah," Luanne agreed, slightly disgusted that he would ask such a thing.

"Well, my dick's so tiny that

And Mrs. Ortega again ripped the notebook away from Todd.

Again, Miss Tripp chatted pleasantly with Todd while Mrs. Ortega screamed and ranted behind Adam Hooper's closed office door.

"We'll see what the school board has to say about this," she grumbled.

"They'd be impressed that we have a student that can spell the word 'ceiling' without an 'S' in it," Adam responded. "Moore, get in here."

"Yes sir?" Todd asked.

"Any other class, huh? Do that shit in any other class but hers, okay?" Adam said.

"Sorry sir, but she's just so damned boring," Todd said. "I mean, who cares about sediment and erosion and..."

"For the next nine days? You do, all right?" Adam said. "After you graduate? You never ever have to think of any of this stuff ever again if you don't want to, all right?"

Todd smiled for the rest of the day. He had an 'A' in Mrs. Ortega's class, in spite of the constant trips to Mr. Hooper's office. He knew the material and knew he would fare well on her final exam.

As he sat in the noisy cafeteria, Luanne looked over at him and he smiled at her. She averted her gaze.

At her table, Luanne listened as Rory and Matt argued about the NFL draft and wondered what was so important about any of it. She looked over at Todd, then remembered what he'd written about her yesterday. It had not been a love poem; it had been a nasty story about her sucking on chocolate covered cherries.

So when Todd Moore smiled at her, she looked away.

"Why you never write nothing 'bout me?" Becky Meadows asked in her squeaky voice.

"Someone already wrote about munchkins," Todd said, looking at the cute girl. "Called 'The Wizard of Oz,' even made a movie about it."

"Ha ha," Becky screwed up her cute face. "You know she's never going go out with you."

"And Rory's never going go out with you," Todd spat back.

"Your momma ever give you anything but peanut butter and grape jelly?" Becky asked, looking at Todd's sandwich.

"It's the perfect sandwich," Todd shrugged.

"Heard you going to DeGarde University," Becky said.

"University of Louisiana at DeGarde," Todd agreed. "Free peanut butter and jelly sandwiches every day. Where you going?"

"Nowhere," Becky admitted.

She pushed her oversized glasses up her small nose. Through the thick lenses, Todd could see the sadness in her large brown eyes.

"No money," she said.

"Need talk to Ms. Martinez; see about grants or scholarships," Todd said.

"I did," Becky stated. "Said we're too late."

In Computer Literacy class, Todd logged onto the U.L.D. web site and located the link for grants and scholarships. Then he shot an email to Becky's school email.

"There's a place where you can write for the fall semester," he said in a follow up email.

Even Mr. Smith looked up from his own computer when he heard Becky give a small squeak of happiness. Briefly, the man thought of getting up, waddling his three hundred and forty two pound bulk over to where the diminutive eighteen year old was typing at a breakneck speed. Then he realized, his curiosity just wasn't that great. As long as Rebecca Meadows wasn't using the school computer for terroristic activity, he didn't care. The bell chimed, signifying that they'd made it through another school day without blood being spilled, fires being set, students giving birth or dying of drug overdoses. As far as Mr. John Smith was concerned, another successful school day.

"O.M.D! Thank you so much!" Becky shrilled as they stepped out into the hall.

"So what'd you write this time?" Luanne demanded as they exited the school building.

"Another poem, but Mrs. Ortega ripped it up," Todd lied.

"What was it about?" Luanne asked.

"Todd, you want a ride?" Becky called out as she stood next to her Ford F150 pickup truck.

"Yeah," Todd agreed.

During the trip from school to the trailer park where Todd lived, Becky squealed and shrilled in her tiny voice about her excitement.

"Oh! And it's not like I wouldn't know nobody! You'd be there too!" Becky squealed.

Then she hurt Todd's feelings when she wondered aloud if Connelly College had the same link on their web site.

"Wouldn't know; I'm going to DeGarde," Todd grumbled.

"But I did like their campus," Becky continued her musing. "I mean, the pictures. Not like they'd put really ugly pictures on there, huh?"

She pulled to a stop at his trailer. He moved to open the door and Becky put her tiny hand on his arm.

"Thank you soooo much," she enthused.

"Welcome," he said. "You're too smart just sit around Sweet Oak rest of your life," Todd said.

That night, after he finished his homework, Todd did sit and scribble out a poem about Becky Meadows. He used the Rocky Mountain chain as a backdrop, knowing Becky would never make the connection between the looming mountains and her looming breasts, between the caps of snow and her nipples.

The following morning, Bus 112 picked him up in front of his trailer and dropped him and nineteen other students off in front of Lloyd M. Bentsen High School. He went to Becky's locker and slid the poem through one of the slotted vents. Then he put his lunch bag in his own locker and went to class.

The bell signifying the start of another school day was about to chime when Becky scurried into the classroom. She sought for and located Todd in his normal seat, third one back against the far wall.

"That was so beautiful," Becky whispered, lip quivering with emotion.

"Meant every word," Todd whispered in reply.

She then scurried to her usual seat, first one in the corner by the door. Todd watched her cute butt undulate in her tight jeans and realized, Becky didn't walk. She scurried, short legs taking mincing steps as she moved from place to place. Those mincing steps caused that cute butt to undulate, piston as she walked.

Mrs. Ortega seemed almost disappointed that Todd paid attention during her class. He took notes, studied the material along with all the other bored students. She narrowed her little eyes when Todd smirked at her.

Todd watched Luanne's buttocks stretch and strain against her tight jeans. She took long legged strides, strides that flexed and posed her buttocks. Becky kept up with the throng of students in her skittering, mincing gait.

Todd realized, whether consciously or subconsciously, Luanne was deliberately displaying her buttocks, the swivel of her hips.

"Got an email from DeGarde!" Becky whooped across the desks to Todd as they sat in their Computer Literacy class.

"Well? What's it say?" Todd asked.

"They want my transcripts!" Becky gasped.

"Ms. Meadows, we don't scream in this class," Mr. Smith harrumphed. "That little icon? Email?"

"Mr. Smith, I need go see Ms. Martinez, please," Becky shrilled.

Before the man could agree or deny, she was already dashing out the door of the classroom.

Twenty minutes later, the buzzer chimed. Todd gathered up Becky's books and sat outside of the guidance counselor's office.

Becky was giddy with happiness when she stumbled out of the woman's office. Her already wide smile widened even more when she saw Todd sitting outside of the office, her books in his hand.

"I'm kind of late, but it looks like I'll be starting there in the fall!" she shrilled.

"Fantastic," Todd smiled and carried her books for her toward her truck.

He accepted the offer of a ride and smiled as Becky chattered nonstop about U.L.D. and what she thought she'd like to major in.

"Thank you soooo much," she said when she pulled up in front of his trailer.

"No problem, kind of wonder why Martinez didn't do that for you?" Todd mused.

"Because she's an idiot," Becky spat.

Then she leaned over the console and kissed him. It had been a friendly little peck, lip to lip. They sat for a moment, brown eyes peering into brown eyes. Then both flamed bright red and Todd clambered out of her truck.