Zombies! Fucking Zombies!

 

episode-4-amy-walker-21

Zombies! Fucking Zombies!

A zombie fiction by BC Clarke

This is a story about a fresh, swagged out fuck boy named Titus. Titus was one of those ass-hole kids who gave zero fucks. He was a disappointment to his microbiologist father and stay-at-home mother. He often failed tests. Received low school grades. Skipped out on afternoon classes because he smoked too much pot during lunch hours. And he masturbated chronologically. As much as the ordinary teenager boy, you might say. And Titus hated his father for naming him Titus. Especially that his last name was Dick. Titus Dick. Let’s give him sympathy for that one. So, anyways, he made sure he played the consistent thug role to fit the part of his self-given nickname, T-dusk. Unfortunately, he also thought he could one day become the next Slim Shady. More unfortunate was the fact he thought he could use his ‘swag’ to get the girl of his dreams, his Spanish teacher, Ms. Oswaldo.

He was sitting in Spanish 10 one afternoon, his chin resting in his palms, as he stared at Ms. Oswaldo’s big, fine, round booty. Her bronze legs glimmered up to her long skirt for all the boys and male teachers, but even then little was left to the imagination. Because after the skirt starts, her thick thighs fill in every inch of the skirt’s black and gold pencil design. But, as much as her healthy legs filled it in, her ass, with peerless justice, more so. You could almost make out every detail of its round shape—the majesty of where it ends and where it begins—as if it was God’s intention to gather all that is curved and smooth and round and beautiful and poetic in this world and somehow managed to combine it all to form a women’s ass. Then above it was her thin waist line that flowed like glass art to her busty chest. Ms. Oswaldo liked to keep a few buttons undone. Her voluptuous titties all things golden and perfect.

Yo,” he asked Ms. Oswaldo, “Ms. O, what’s up?” He licked his lips and clicked his tongue. “You got any after school anything going on? You know. So I could catch up on my Spanish…senorita?”

She turned from the chalkboard and her cute face looked down at Titus, looking to his knock off Jordans and fool’s gold jewellery hanging over his douche bag Affliction t-shirt. “Titus,” she said, “if you actually tried to do your homework in class you wouldn’t have to be tutored, comprende? Now, do your work. Before you flunk out and you’ll have to dress like that your whole life.”

The classroom laughed at Titus.

Hazlo,” she ordered.

She turned to the chalkboard and wrote down whatever in Spanish and her booty swayed like two onyx suns. T-dusk thought she was a trampy-ass trap-queen anyways, but he didn’t want to say it. How she’s dating a big time dope boy on the West and throws it out to all the thugs for a whistle and for ice. Hypocritical trap-queen with an attitude and sexy accent. Despite the shots fired, he jerked off to her in the washroom stalls before his next class taught by the fuckboy teacher, Mr. Canning.

In Mr. Canning’s class, T-dusk sat in the back. It was the best place to avoid the balding chubby teacher from picking him out. He stood explaining the next assignment, his zoomed eyes often cornered at the edge of his glass’ lens to T. That day the short Mr. Canning looked like the typical pedophile. Hair slicked to the side. Typically thick framed glasses hanging too low on his nose. The only thing that was missing was a bow-tie to top off his blue khaki shirt, buttoned to the top like how a mom would force her fucking dweeb child. It was his attempt to look hipster. But it was more like ‘please, I’ll call my mommy, mister’.

Titus,” Canning’s nasally voice found him, “not that you’d know much about it, but could you explain how the body uses fluids to help contraception in mammals?” He chuckled to himself, thinking he was hilarious. To Canning, Canning was hilarious. “Did you guys hear me? Not that he’d know much about it.”

T dusk shook his head. “Yeah, I do know how my fluids help the process. I go to the liquor store, flash my fake ID to the fine lady working and then after some gin and juice us mammals get a little naked and things happen, nomsayen?” A few held their laughs. “That’s how I got your moms anyways, Mr. C.”

So then T dusk was sent to the main office where he sat waiting and watching the fat secretary talk on the phone to his mother or something. Her eyes watched T over her tiny glasses. Then the cool-natured, menopausal looking principle came out of the office and told Titus he was lucky that there was a school assembly and dismissed him to it.

At the assembly he sat with his head hanging low, nearly sleeping as the teachers ranted about nothing. T-dusk suddenly imagined himself breaking in with about ten other of his homeboys dressed up in black with bandannas over their face, rolling in the place with gats and shit and he pictured them holding up the teachers and embarrassing them in front of the whole school and left shooting up the flags and the roof to leave a message. Although Titus had no posse (friends, let alone), nor has he even seen a real gun. His daydream vanished and, after the assembly, again, in the boys washroom, he jerked off to Ms. O. Lonely kid some would say.

In the next class, gym class, a young girl named Elle came across from the girls’ side of the gym to him. She was pretty enough, but not for T-dusk’s taste. She was tall and slender. Lacking the Kardashian look he imagined his next boo to be. Kim would of filled those little gym shorts in fine as hell, he thought. Anyways, this Elle did weird shit, too, like read books in between classes and discussed them with teachers.

She stared at him as if to gain his attention. Hey, Tidu—I mean T-dusk,” she said, “heard you got told off by Ms. Oswaldo.”

His face was repulsed. “Shit, no.” He pursed his lips and acted coolly. “Who told you this?”

She did. I went to talk to her about the book Don Quixote and asked her if she’s read it, and of course she did, and so I said that last night I finished it, of course, and then after discussing its themes briefly, she asked me if she knew you and I said yes we went to elementary together and then she shook her head and asked if I could ask you to stop being a creep and to focus at actual school work or at least try for girls your own age, or something like that, or she might have to talk to the main office,” she said all in one breath. “So what’s new anyways?”

Whoa—whoa!” He leaned in closer. “That ain’t true, okay? She said that?”

Yep.”

He played coolly again. “Chh! That ain’t cool of her. I ain’t creepin’, ya know? Just been distracted by other things, ya know? Like some things going on at home that’s real tough.” Such as the time when his computer froze and crashed because he tried to download an unrated porno movie from Piratebay. He needed that computer for his mixtape. “Just got lots on my mind, okay?”

Okay. But, really, it’s okay, T. Anyways, if you need extra help in Spanish just ask me, comprende, senoir T dusk?” she said.

He looked around, embarrassed by her giddiness. “Yeah. Aight. Yeah.”

Beauno!” she said and jogged away like Bambi.

Coby Wilkinson came out of the resting boys’ crowd smiling like the douche bag jock he was. T-dusk hated Coby, the 6’4, 200lb football quarterback, basketball power forward and hockey centerman. Mainly because he had this way of making people feel good about themselves. Always handicapped people. He’d take them to church, praise them for throwing baseballs like little girls. Things like that. And it was for that reason, T-dusk hated Coby even more when he would talk to him.

Hey, buddy,” Coby said, a brilliant smile as he towered over T, “still rapping T?”

Yeah, I guess. You know.”

Awesome, man. Look, we need another man for some basketball. I know you don’t really participate, but we could really use a guy with a great jump shot like you.”

Man,” T-dusk protested, “I shoot hoop, nomsayen? I play ball. Ball is life. Man, I know my skin may look white but my soul is black, nomsayen?”

Coby laughed probably the phoniest laugh you’d ever hear. He reached out his long arm and rested his hand in relief on T’s shoulder. “Oh, man. T, you are a goofy one.”

GOOF? Did he just say goof? T-dusk thought. Despite this towering man that stood above him, nobody calls T-dusk a goof. (No man should ever be called goofy or anything alike. He heard somewhere that people get sent to graveyards and hospitals for saying that shit in prison. T wasn’t sure where he heard it but he knew it was fact. And what doesn’t fly for the brothers in prison–even though he’s never met anyone whose been in jail– doesn’t fly for him.) So he sucker-punched Coby in the nose and was subsequently beaten to pulp by him and then he was sent to the main office where the brawny, he-women principle suspended him the remainder of the week.

He was in his room staring at the ceiling. He brought his hand up to feel his swollen, black eye and sore nose. He suddenly heard the front door open and close and he knew it was his dad. “Shit,” he said and covered his face with a pillow. He heard the footsteps stomping up the stairs and through the hall and stopped at his door. His father opened the door and stuck his head just enough to see Titus among his unkempt room.

What?” Titus said.

What happened?”

Titus removed the pillow off his face and showed exposed his beaten-ass face.

Whoa. I’m not even going to ask about the other guy, because you probably are him. Did you at least get a couple in?”

One. I suckered him.”

His dad shook his head. “That’s what bitches do, son. C’mon. You aren’t no bitch. I didn’t raised no bitch.” He sighed off the disappointment. “Anyways, do you homework and all that. Keep the music down so I ain’t got to deal with your mother bitching me out.”

Dad,” Titus said before his dad left.

Yeah, son?”

You’re a microbiologist. You ever make anything zombie-like?”

Zombies?” He paused and thought. “Well, we did make this one concoction that somehow ended up making our test animals all crazy and violent in a way. I think I still got some. Since you’ll be bored all weekend, I’ll pull it out and I’ll show you on Guppus. I don’t see why not. He’s ancient and going to croak soon anyways. But, enjoy, you little shit.” He slammed the door. “Yes, I talked to him, women. Fuck sake…” his voice disappeared.

A couple days later, Titus and his father stood with their eyes fixed on the box sized hamster cage. Old Guppus the hamster stared back at them as if to wait for a treat. He looked to where his father pulled out a vial. It was labelled with cautionary signs. It look liked one of those liquid candy snacks, thick and red and syrupy. He twisted off the cap and put the minuscule drop of it on a peanut and opened the cage and placed it at Guppus’ feet and the old hamster took and nibbled on it like had been starving. Minutes later the hamster fell on its side and started convulsing. Titus’ eyes widened and he looked to his father who enjoyed the scene maniacally. Then the hamster was still.

That’s all?” Titus asked.

Sh, watch.”

The hamster suddenly got to its feet and charged at Titus behind the gate, it’s teeth nibbling at the steel cage. He never seen the old hamster move so quickly, even when it was younger. It spewed blood from its mouth as it continued to try and bite its way through the cage.

Psycho little thing, ain’t he?” his dad was laughing and enjoying.

What’s wrong with him?”

Not sure. We were just pissing around one day in the lab and suddenly made this and we tried it on some fish and mice and they went absolutely…how would you say it, son, ‘cray’? So, any who, I was told to destroy it after we had a gag but I had to keep it for the sake of a good time. And here we are!”

Does it do that to people?”

His father turned slowly to him, wonder and terror both in his expression. “…I don’t know.”

Ben?” his mother called from the kitchen.

His dad, Ben, put the vial down beside the cage and walked into the kitchen. “What? I’m busy. What is it, dear? For God’s sake.”

Titus looked at the vial, and to the feral hamster, and he looked to his parents arguing in the kitchen and then he swiped the vial and put it in his pocket and left the house.

He took a city transit bus, standing restless as he waited for his destination. He looked down at the vial in the palm of his hands then to a fat women eating a creamy long john. He felt repulsed to the sight of her shoving it in her mouth like it was the last long john on earth, her face smeared with icing and crumbs.

What’s that?” a big thug said as he noticed the vial in T’s hand.

T shoved the vial in his pocket. “Nothing, man.”

The thug looked around. “C’mon, what is that? Show me.”

No, I can’t homie.”

Homie? We homies? I ain’t your homie. Playa.” The thug gripped his necklace. “Fake ass gold and shit. Looking all beaten up like some bitch.”

Look, I don’t want no trouble, man.”

Give me the vial or you’re going to find it anyways. As a matter of fact, give me your wallet and cellphone and everything else.”

T-dusk reached into his pocket. He saw that everyone in the bus was watching, except the fat lady who was distracted by another long john she pulled out of her ass. He uncapped the vial in his pocket. “Here,” T shouted as he slung the liquid from the vial into the thug’s eyes and mouth.

The thug was blinded and struggled to wipe the seering pain from his eyes. “What the fuck, bitch boy?” he screamed in pain.

You wanted it, you got it,” T dusk said, smirking. He then suddenly realized what could happen, and even if it didn’t, he would still have to run.

The man fell to his knees and coughed out a pool of blood. The crowded bus grew restless and loud. They watched as the thug coughed and fell to his side and shivered to a still pause. Then his eyes opened blood red.

The thug rose to his feet, slobber draining from his mouth like a dog with rabies. T dusk ran near the mid exit and rang the driver to halt. The thug was standing and staring, though not staring at T, but at the distracted fat lady who found another long john. His shoulders and chest flared up and his panting grew deep and suddenly he shouted and sprinted to the fat lady and grabbed her hefty face and sunk his teeth into her neck. Everyone in the bus shrieked and panicked to the exit, crushing T against the door.

The bus door finally came open and the crowd rushed out. T dusk ran into a parking lot of a strip mall and turned the bus. He saw blood spurt onto the inside of the windows like buckets of red paint emptied carelessly. The bus driver was watching the passengers in horror and he too was suddenly attacked by the fat lady and she swallowed his jugular and started, simply put, eating him as if the three or four long johns she just ate were only an appetizer and the driver was the delicious main course.

Red-eyed passengers came out of the bus and charged at the others and bit into their flesh until they too became rapid and hungry for violence. T dusk backed off slowly. Suddenly he saw that the fat lady was on the sidewalk, thrusting her large hips into the pelvis of a small man laying on the sidewalk. He shook his head and ran from the incident.

He got back home to which his parents stood reserved at the coming of his entrance.

His mother’s arm were crossed. “Where did you go?”

I went to the store. I needed fresh air, okay?” Titus replied.

Ben was more aloof. “You went out looking all beaten up like that?”

Titus rolled his eyes.

Honey, you weren’t suppose to go out. You know that. You’re grounded and it’s against the rules.” A tear drivelled from her eyes. “But I’m so glad you’re okay, honey. I thought you ran off on us.” She pulled him in for a hug. “Oh and bad news, honey.” She cleared her throat and wiped her eyes. “Be strong, okay?”

Why?”

Because…. Guppus is dead.”

A day passed. Titus near chewed his fingernails completely bald as spent the hours looking out his window like some paranoid crackhead. The next morning his father called him downstairs and showed him what was on the news. Hundreds of people in the city suddenly became violent and uncontrollable with an infection. People were raping people in clear day. Biting their necks. And the bitten would then rise up and move on to find their next victim. Either raping them or biting them. The infection spread fast.

You know anything about this?” his father asked.

Dad,” Titus said with his head low, “I almost got jumped by this guy and so I got scared and threw the liquid in his face. He bit some women then everybody… started going fucking crazy. I think this is all my fault.”

Well, son….” his father disappeared into the kitchen and Titus heard the rustling of sticks and other junk in the broom closet. His father came out with a shotgun and pumped it loaded. “Looks like we’re bound for a good time.”

They reinforced the house. Barricading windows. Nailing doors. His father took out his entire collection of guns. Shotguns. Assault rifles. Oozies. Some real gangster ass shit, as Titus would put it.

Why are we doing this again, hon?” his mother asked Ben, loading up cartridges into a glock.

Remember that red stuff I made and we got drunk here when Jeremy and Renitta came by for a drink and we used it on gold fish and they went all loopy?”

Yeah.”

Well, Titus used it on people on a transit bus.”

His mother tilted her shaking head. “Oh, honey,” she said calmly yet disappointed.

Days past and they watched through the windows as people scattered from their homes. The infected chasing down mothers and fathers and children. Vehicles abandoned on the road. Houses aflame and busted. A real horror show.

Ben called his son to the living room. On the t.v a reporter caught on film two zombies appearing to have sex with each other. The male zombie grabbed the female from behind and torqued his hips slowly into her ass. They groaned and moaned like how you’d dare to imagine two old people fucking (with a little more blood but they still had teeth) and the male zombie drooled over his thrusting zombie dick as it penetrated the female zombie’s asshole. The male zombie managed to fuck it faster and appeared to have came hard into her. The male zombie suddenly fell to the ground and was still.

Why the hell they banging?”

Pretty sick, am I right?” He was genuinely entertained. “The infection was meant to be an aphrodisiac at first. To help losers get laid without using roofies. So it goes down to the core of our systems and brings out the primal instinct in us. Which is to reproduce. Fuck. Unfortunately, not everyone is the same. Some people rather eat than fuck. Or, eat then fuck.” Titus recalled to the fat lady riding the man earlier. “Either or, it’s just how it works. Also, the serum was a failure because it made the subjects look all creepy and shit, and it was irreversible.”

That’s messed up.”

Yeah, it’s pretty cool.”

You’re not mad or scared?”

No, hello no, kid. The world’s overpopulated and could use a little fun. Besides, who doesn’t like a little zombies? I got to level 55 by myself on Call of Duty so we should be fine, us three.”

T thought about Ms. O that night in bed. Was she okay? Would that gangster she calls a man protect her like how he would protect her? What if he sold her out for his own survival? He couldn’t leave this world without getting some Ms. O. He shot up and went downstairs and grabbed an oozie and a hand gun and a shotgun. He looked to his parents sleeping sound on the couch and then left.

The world was different. There was no traffic or cops or people, for that matter, anywhere. It was like the place had been abandoned completely. He wondered where the horny zombies were. Be damned if he gets raped by a gay one or something. And then after he was half ways from Ms. O’s house, he saw a crowd of zombies in a park. He sneaked slowly past them on the side walk but stopped as he noticed that in fact it was a huge zombie orgy. It sounded like one large moan from the distance. They throbbed and thrust against each other. T shook his head and carried on.

Nothing was going to stop him from rescuing Ms. O. Absolutely nothing. Not even the sudden charge of two zombies. They came from out of a resident alley. He aimed his shotgun and blew each of their heads off. When the sound of the shotgun echoed through out the street, more zombies came out into the street. “Fuck,” he said, loading more cartridges into the shotgun. They ran for him and when they were in distance, he unloaded a shell into their skulls. He was a pretty good shot for someone whose never fired a gun. He moved along, step by step, dropping zombie by zombie. When his shotgun was empty, he dropped it and pulled out his oozie and cleared the street. They were all dead. “Damn,” he said, impressed with himself.

An hour later of dodging zombie herds and sneaking through yards and taking shortcuts, he finally made it to Ms. O’s house. A one floor building boarded up on every entrance.

He walked up to the door and cleared his throat and knocked. He heard the sound of footsteps inside. He took off his hat and sorted his hair and put it back on and rehearsed the face he would give her. Stupid fucking wanna-be hard face. The expression faded as the occupants began to peel away the barricades from inside. The door open slightly and a man’s eyes peaked through.

What you want?”

I was wondering if you had a moment to talk about our Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ?”

The man slammed the door shut. “It’s some kid. Looks goofy,” said the man from inside.

T thought “fuck you.”

The man opened the door and invited the kid in with a rise in his chin.

T ducked under the boards and squeezed through. He was a few inches shorter than the man. He wore a wife beater and gold chain necklace with a cross. He recognized the bald Mexican. He was the dope boy he hated because Ms. O dated him. He did his best not to look shook, but failed miserably. The dope boy studied him.

Where you rollin’ in from?” the dope boy asked.

Fucking shit up out there, man. Check out the piece,” T said, holding up his oozie.

Cute. Anyways. The fuck you want? This ain’t a charity house.”

Yo just to survive, nomsayen? I seen this place was boarded up a little better than the other places so I thought to check. Can I stay the night?”

Gloria,” the dope boy called.

Yeah, baby?” Ms O’s voice came from the kitchen.

Some punk wants to stay here for awhile. I don’t know, he looks young. Dressed kind of funny too.”

Who is it?” Ms O said as she came around the corner and dropped her cup of coffee. “Titus?”

She was just as beautiful as ever. She was wearing tight, pink short shorts. Her juicy thighs were exposed and golden. Her legs were gifts from Heaven. Her belly button revealed under her tight tang top… Okay, anyways, he did as best as he could not to make it apparent he was checking her out. She looked at her boyfriend then to Titus.

Ms. O, holy shit,” T acted surprised. “What are the odds? Wow. O. M. G. This is insane.”

You two know each other?” the dope boy stressed.

She was bewildered. “He—uh—is one of my students, baby. It’s crazy. Don’t you live down on the East side? How did you get over here?”

T hung his head. “Well, you see, Ms. O. I was at home when suddenly a group of zombies broke in our home and raped my father and ate my mom.” He squeezed out a tear.

She went up to him and hugged him. Her large breasts pressed against his chin. “You poor thing. That’s so terrible.” She looked to her boyfriend. “He staying here with us, honey. We can’t let another child die.”

The dope boy groaned and sighed. “Okay, but you listen here little, ombre. You stay on my couches, you better not bleed all over it or nothing like that. They’re new Italians leathers so I don’t need them getting fucked up. Comprende?”

Word, dawg.”

And none of that shit here. Didn’t your mama teach you no better? Fucking gangster ass thug shit,” the dope boy said. “Embarrassing.”

They all sat on the couch watching illegally burnt DVDs of shitty t.v shows. Like Two and a Half Men, without Charlie Sheen, of course, we’re talking. T would occasionally look over the dope boy to Ms. O sitting quiet. The sounds of a women’s scream came from outside like she was being attacked and raped. But they didn’t move.

Anybody hungry?” the dope boy said.

Yep,” Ms O and T agreed.

Okay.” He got up and left to the kitchen. “I make some great lasagna. Even ask Gloria. Right, Gloria? My lasagna is the shit?”

Yes, baby.” She looked at T and smiled. “So, how are you, Mr. Dick?”

Oh shit, Ms. O, don’t call me that.”

Did you get my message from Elle?”

Yeah, look, Ms.–”

You ain’t lactose tolerant, are you, kid?” the dope boy interrupted from the kitchen. “I like to load up on cheese and I don’t need you farting all over my couch.”

No, I’m good,” he replied.

When he turned back to Ms. O, she was sitting with a joint in between her lips. She scrounged through the table top for a lighter, her thong sticking out over her short shorts.

You smoke?” she asked. “Oh shit.” She just realized he was a student. “Aah fuck it,” she said and lit the joint, “the world’s going to end anyways.”

Oh fuck that smells good,” the dope hollered from the kitchen, “babe, give that kid a toke, he’ll be fucking cooked. Ha.”

She handed him the joint.

He took a long drag and coughed and passed it back.

You’re a rookie? You’re always so high in school, I thought you’d be like a champ.”

He laughed. “That’s some dope ass dope, Ms. O. I didn’t know you was straight up thug like Ri-Ri.”

Ri-Ri? Rihanna’s my bae.” She nearly smoked the entire thing herself before passing him the rest. “Finish it up, dear.” She blew out about the amount of smoke a house fire would create.

Suddenly as they sat quiet and baked, the dope boy screamed from within the kitchen and they both went to it. There was a small rat that scurried away out a dog door. The dope boy stood holding his bleeding neck.

Ms. O went up to her boyfriend. “Oh, baby, what happened?”

Little fucking rat attacked me. Bit me in the neck.”

T remembered Guppus. The vicious little rodent. Animals could get the infection and they could probably spread it. “Are you okay?”

I’m fi–” the dope boy fell to his knees and started to puke out blood onto the floor. He was sweaty and pale.

Ms. O panicked and begged that he would be okay, rubbing his back and crying. T pulled her away and shot the dope boy in the back of the head. Ms. O screamed at the top of her lungs and slapped T.

What is wrong with you!” she cried.

He was about to turn and rape us both! I had to!”

No,” she sobbed. She hugged the headless body. “My baby. My trap-king. No…”

She cried over his dead body for hours. Meanwhile, T stood on guard for the rat but it never came back. He looked out through a crack on the window for no apparent reason. He went back to kitchen and rubbed her back and told her it was going to be okay.

She looked at T and hugged him like it was the last hug she would give. Her body shook in his grip as she cried profusely over his shoulder. He rubbed her upper back and slowly moved his hand further down until it was just above her thong. Finally, he thought, he felt her smooth skin. He hoped she wouldn’t notice that he was hard in the pants.

That night she fell asleep sound on the couch. T watched her from across the room. He thought of trying to feel her up but then realized that would make a bad impression. So instead he went up to her and shook her shoulder and she woke up.

You think it’ll be more comfortable to sleep in your bed?” he asked her.

You’re sweet but I don’t think I could. That’s where me and him made sweet, sweet love every night. That’s where I wanted him to put babies in me and now… now it’s never happen.” She started to cry in her hands.

Sh, sh,” he said to comfort. “It’s going to be fine.”

Titus?”

Yeah?”

Would you mind laying with me, just to hold me through the night? I don’t want to feel alone right now,” her eyes were wet and sincere.

Of course,” he said, baffled. He squeezed himself onto the couch and wrapped his arms around her exposed abs.

Her hair was stuffed against his face. He felt like sneezing but he didn’t want to move. Her hand came over his and a jolt of comfort and excitement came about his entire body. She wanted him. He could feel it. He started to shift his pelvis against her round bottom and she started to rotate it in the same direction. He felt his erection become solid in pants, rubbing against her soft cheeks as she pressed harder and harder. She began to pant and moan under her breath. Titus couldn’t believe what was happening.

He slid his hand above her belly button and under her shirt. He popped his fingers under her bra and felt her subtle under boob. They were softer then he ever imagined. He pushed his hand completely over her boob and squeezed it and started to play with her hard nipple. She started to push deep into his pelvis. He noticed her hand slip into her short shorts and she began touching herself. He tried as hard as he could not to come. He thought about Mr. Canning. He thought about the manly principle. He thought about Ellen Degeneres and the finale of Lost. He could still feel her booty rub against him.

She pulled her hand out from her shorts and grabbed his hand from her breast and guided it into her shorts, past her patch of pubic hair and onto her clitoris. The first time he’s ever felt one. So soft and wet. He rubbed it slowly and felt her moaning breath vibrate on his chest. She asked him to rub it harder and so he did and she started to moan louder until her pussy was completely soaked. He reached his fingers below her clit and played around her throbbing hole. It pulsed, opening and closing, and she turned to him, catching her breath.

I can’t believe you made me come,” she said. “Wow.”

He smiled proudly.

I want you inside me.”

Almost instantly he reached down for his zipper and he pulled out his dick and she looked to it and got up and wrapped her thick, wet lips around it. She started off slow. Her lips gently mapped over his throbbing head. She licked around it and moved further down until he tongue was over his balls. It was the best moment of his life and he knew it was only about to get better. He propped himself up so that she could shove his sack into her mouth. She moaned as she sucked his balls gently. Her eyes looked up at him and suddenly, with her hand resting on his shaft, he saw a bit of come dripping out. She smiled and licked it and sucked his head so hard it hurt. He allowed the pain for her. There was no way he would protest.

His dick had become less sensitive. She got up and went to the middle of the living room, staring away from him. She looked to her backside and slowly slipped off her shorts and thong until her bottom half was completely naked. His eyes were wide, studying the round, bronze ass. It was shaped so perfectly. Above it were small dimples. Below it were the lines that separated it from her thick thighs. She bent over as if to touch her toes and her pussy came below her beautiful spread cheeks. It was wet and throbbing for him. She put her fingers to her clit and rubbed it then spread her small pussy lips so that he saw her pulsing hole.

Come here and fuck me. I want you.”

Titus got up and pointed his dick towards her pussy, as if to joust it in. He scuttled as his pants were wrapped around his ankles then he tripped and fell face first and the world disappeared.

Titus!” Ms. O screamed out of the oblivion.

Titus suddenly found himself back in Spanish 10 with his chin resting on his palms. He looked to Ms. O standing angrily at the chalkboard. The entire class was watching him.

Earth to Titus,” she said, “get up and start doing some work. I’m tired of you sleeping and daydreaming in this class. Get to work.”

Okay, sorry, Ms. O,” he apologized.

Beauno.”

After class he sat in the boys bathroom stall, still mesmerized by his daydream. He felt it was all so real. Apart of him wanted it to be real. But his dad was not that rad and his mother was strict to the bone. Although Mr. Canning was a complete asshole, he would never dis his mom or anyone’s because he raised at least to that point. And even if Colby did call him a goof, there’s no way he’d punch him (he helps crippled kids after all). Ms. O actually lived in a small house but it was with her family. Her husband is a lawyer and she has three kids. Still, he’d tap that. Then there was the other thing: “Zombies,” he said, shaking his head, “fucking zombies.” Titus jerked off to the thought of Ms. O and proceeded to Mr. Canning’s class.

The end.

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