Senior Year Memories Ch. 04

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Usual Disclaimer Time: Even though this story almost entirely takes place in a high school setting, all the characters in this story are 18 years old or older, and since we’re living in the wide wonderful world of porno-land here, where clichés roam free and things might get a little unrealistic from time to time, please remember it’s all in good fun, I swear.


Previously, on Senior Year Memories: Nerdy 18-year-old Ryan Collins has been getting used to his newfound position among Regan Hills High School’s popular girls after news of his big cock was spread around by mean girl Kaitlyn. So, in addition to dodging bully Kyle Bowman and his best friend, Tori, talking him into joining the school paper, he’s been juggling time having sex with a number of cheerleaders. After a tryst in a school closet brought his activities to the attention of his favorite teacher, Mrs. Lynn, Ryan thought he was in trouble, but instead had sex with Mrs. Lynn. All in all, the year’s looking up.


“We really need to get you laid,” Tori said before taking an expert sniper shot at one of our opponents, splattering their digital brains all over the landscape. We sat next to each other on her basement bedroom couch, each focused on our laptops and the game world within. We were playing in a battle royale match and had made it to only fourteen survivors left, but for the moment we were on the same side, which was fun while it lasted.

It didn’t make me hate the point where we’d have to turn on each other any less, though.

There were worse people to have as a best friend than Tori McNeil, though the way she focused on my social life, the social life I was currently hiding from her, got more than a little annoying pretty fast. Especially when there were bitches online that needed killing, and she was distracting me from them.

“Is this really the time?” I asked, diving my avatar for cover as someone launched a rocket at me.

“Oh, come on, it’s always the time. You’ve got a year to prevent you from going to college a virgin, and I’m just trying to help out. You really should’ve dived behind that truck,” she said.

“That truck’s on fire,” I clarified.

“Oh, so it is,” she said as the truck exploded. “Doesn’t mean getting you laid isn’t important.”

“It’s not important right now,” I said.

“Ryan, you’re my best friend; you’re important all the time,” Tori said. For someone who as much a smartass as she was most of the time, there was a refreshing honesty to her voice that was almost touching.

“Thanks,” I said. Then, realizing I needed to talk like I wasn’t getting laid on a semi-regular basis these days, I added, “But that’s not gonna help me. Not unless you’re offering…”

“Ew, god no!” Tori exclaimed, wrinkling her face up in disgust. As usual when we have this exchange, we held on, waiting to see who’d laugh first. This time, Tori who broke first, though I wasn’t far behind.

“Sorry, couldn’t hold it in,” she said.

“Don’t worry. If I wasn’t so busy flanking our sniper friend…” I said, unleashing a barrage from my minigun. The sniper, and close to half the building they were hiding in, were no longer a problem.

“…I’d have broken first,” I said.

“Oh, nicely done. Get the loot before someone else does,” Tori said.

“Already on it,” I said, looting the remains, shooting a glance over at Tori.

That the two of us should’ve had sex by now is one of our longest running inside jokes, mostly because I’m pretty sure everyone expected that we would’ve done it by now. We’d been best friends for ages, and were closer to brother and sister than anything else, I think (not that I’d know, being an only child). We fought, played video games, shared similar interest in toys and comics and women, and slept over at each others’ houses all the time. We’ve jokingly sent each other favorite porn clips and pictures we’ve found online in the past, and, well, in a lot of ways, I’ve always thought about her as one of the guys.

That’s not to say I didn’t know she was pretty cute, for a bisexual tomboy. She was a shade taller than me and slender, with pale, freckled skin, a cute face, and a mess of curly red hair I don’t think she’s ever tried to tame. She favored loose, long-sleeved shirts, overalls and boots, but I’d had enough gym classes with her to know she was hiding a half-decent body under it all.

There’d been times, back before this year at least, where I’d been convinced that one day the two of us would wind up having sex if just for the fact that I wouldn’t have had any other options. She got dates sometimes, more often than not with girls than guys, but I knew she’d had sex, and I’d been curious, maybe a little about what it’d be like, but only curious.

All right, maybe just a little more than curious, but no more than that.

“You know, it’s not like there aren’t girls who wouldn’t be interested,” Tori said.

“They’re not interested,” I said.

“True, but there’s some who if you got to know them, they might be willing to give canlı bahis it a try. Just, you know, you’d have to get to know them first, and grow balls enough to actually ask them out,” she said.

“Oh yeah? Name some,” I said.

She thought on this a moment, sniping yet another person before saying, “You’ve got me there, but I could ask around-“

“Don’t ask around. I… I’m fine,” I said. It wasn’t that I wasn’t interested in being introduced to more girls, but I was afraid that if she started asking around that she might’ve started to hear some of the rumors about me, rumors I was perfectly fine keeping from Tori. The way she kept her ear to the ground, it felt like a minor miracle she hadn’t heard anything already, and I wanted to keep it that way.

“Spending your lonely nights masturbating doesn’t count as being fine,” Tori said.

It was if it meant masturbating to pictures of my cum all over Kaitlyn Pruitt, Brooke King, Haley Campbell and Mrs. Lynn.

God, it was still hard to believe that I’d had sex with Mrs. Lynn, and that she was looking forward to more somewhere down the line. The thought was enough to make my erection stir, though I had to hide it from Tori.

These were the things I thought, even though I didn’t say them.

I was struggling to come up with something to say, when something happened that meant I didn’t need to say a damn thing.

“Fuck, I’m dead,” I said, bemoaning my avatar falling to the ground, blood spewing from his head.

“Shit! Me too!” Tori exclaimed. “I had a great fucking spot and everything! Fucking snipers.”

“Says the sniper,” I said.

“Fuck off. Who got you?” she asked.

I checked my screen, then hers. “Hey, we’re twinsies. 69golden_hand69.”

“Fuck, not her,” Tori grumbled.


“Izzy Barnes. From civics class? Bitch has been telling me she’d get me for weeks now; never thought she’d actually find my server,” Tori said.

I knew Izzy Barnes, if just in passing because we had similar friend groups. She was a hyper little thing with choppy hair dyed bright blue, and a fashion sense of mostly bright colors. When she wasn’t talking a mile a minute about fucking people up in games, she was almost kind of cute, but since fucking people up online seemed to be her life…

I checked the time on my phone. “Probably for the best, I gotta get going. Tutoring.”

Tori rolled her eyes. “Oh, joy. Just remember, you interview for the paper tomorrow after school; Nadia values promptness. Don’t show up on time, and it’ll be both of our asses, and if it’s both of our asses with her, then your ass is mine after that.”

I raised my hand in promise. “I’ll be there. Scout’s honor.”

“Good. Give my regards to Kaitlyn.”

I picked up my backpack and packed my laptop inside of it. “Oh, come on, she’s not that bad.”

“You know what they say about people when someone says they’re not that bad?”

“That they’re actually that bad?” I finished. Tori tapped the side of her nose knowingly.

“Well, she may not be perfect, but I think I’m actually helping her out some,” I said, walking toward the front door.

Tori called after me jokingly, “Well, if you ever get around to helping out her pussy, let me know, right?”

I laughed. “I’ll get right on that!”


“OH FUCK, FUCK ME HARDER, FUCK ME HARDER!!” Kaitlyn shouted as I railed her from behind. She was on all fours on my bed, her face pressed down hard into the pillows, her massive tits swaying deliciously with every thrust. I was already fucking her as hard as I could, but she was fucking insatiable, so I gave her every last bit of gas I had in the tank.

“GOD, FUCK, FUCK, I’M CUUUUUUMMMMMMMING!!” she screamed as her cunt spasmed around my cock, her body collapsing to the bed as she slowed her fucking.

“Hey, hey, I’m cumming too, I’m cumming,” I said, wanting instruction on where she wanted it. Kaitlyn wasn’t too picky whether I’d cum in her pussy or on her face or tits or in her mouth. This time she crawled off of me and lay on her back, jacking me slowly until I grunted and came all over her face and massive tits, spurt after spurt landing on her tongue, lips, neck, everywhere.

Drained, I fell back onto the bed, panting and staring up at the ceiling.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of that,” Kaitlyn said, dabbing up cum with her fingers and sucking it off of them.

“You and I got different definitions of tired,” I said, laughing.

“Maybe, but that was still pretty fucking sweet,” Kaitlyn said. She grabbed her phone and took a picture of herself making a kissy face into it, still covered in cum.

“Making Brooke jealous?” I asked.

“You know it,” Kaitlyn said.

“You know, you’re the one making her jealous, I’m the one who’s gonna pay for it, right? You think you like getting fucked hard, that girl’s ass…” I trailed off.

“Yeah, well, you complain, but you know I’ll make it up to you,” Kaitlyn replied.

“Truth,” I admitted.

“So, school paper, huh?” Kaitlyn asked as she bahis siteleri cleaned herself of my cum.

“Yeah,” I said, uncertainly. Kaitlyn and I hadn’t been friends for years until we reconnected recently, but ever since that reconnection we’ve mostly either been fucking or talking about history to make sure she’d graduate. Our rare conversations that were related to something other than sex or tutoring were still awkward and halting, with both of us trying to find a common ground that left us long ago.

Still, it felt nice when we tried.

“Sounds like a good fit for you. Lots of people you’d get along with in there,” Kaitlyn said diplomatically.

“More nerds?” I said.

“You used the word, not me,” Kaitlyn said.

“Fair,” I said. She wasn’t wrong, though. I may have been on the anti-social side, but I was looking forward to the chance of working alongside people with more similar interests to me.

“And once you nail that interview-“

“IF I nail that interview,” I interrupted.

“Oh, come on, have some fucking confidence, if this is something you want, you’ll kick its ass. Once you nail that interview, I’ll promise you the exclusive once I become homecoming queen,” Kaitlyn said.

Homecoming. Right, that was next week. The month had really flown by.

Now, strictly speaking Homecoming wasn’t exactly something I looked forward to, since it was pretty much just an excuse to wave around the school pride while hyping up a football game that’d bore anyone to tears and crowning people I didn’t know and didn’t care about king and queen at a dance I wouldn’t attend. The games they had at the carnival beforehand, though, those were fun, especially if Tori and I were hanging out.

That was in previous years, though. Who knew what things would be like with my new status quo?

“You got the win locked down?” I asked, curious.

“I might as well. It’s me and Addison Gonzalez in the front running right now, and no way in hell am I letting that slut win over me,” Kaitlyn said.

I wasn’t so sure about that; Addison Gonzalez was a lot nicer than, if not as smart as, Kaitlyn, and was every bit as beautiful. While Kaitlyn would’ve won her votes by fighting for them, Addison was likely to have won her votes simply by being Addison.

“Besides, if I win, I get to make her boyfriend my king and make her crazy jealous. Pretty sweet, huh?” Kaitlyn said.

“Who’s that?” I asked.

“Guess,” she said.

I didn’t have to guess because I knew the answer the moment I asked the question. “Kyle Bowman.”

My archnemesis, the hero of Regan Hills High School and its biggest asshole all wrapped up in a giant, walking pile of blonde meat. It wasn’t long ago that he gave me the offer to choose between doing his homework and having him humiliate me in front of the entire school, and riding high off of just having tittyfucked Haley Campbell, I told him to fuck off. I hadn’t heard from him since, which worried me.

Kyle Bowman wasn’t the kind of guy to let grudges die easy.

“You got it,” Kaitlyn said.

Nervous, I asked, “You’re not gonna…?”

“Fuck him? Nah, been there, done that, his dick’s too small to revisit, especially after I’ve had your anaconda, but I’d love to make Addison think I was gonna steal her man, give her something to get her panties in a twist over. You know, usual friend stuff,” she said.

“Well, that sounds like a plan,” I said. Kaitlyn had become a much nicer person since we started fooling around, but her mean girl tendencies were something I’d have rather avoided. If I had my way, I’d have tried to change her in the hopes that she could become a better person, but since changing a person never really works, I figured I’d just try to act as her conscience when I could, and when I couldn’t, just staying the fuck out of the way.

“Yes. Yes it does. Anyway, let me know how your interview goes tomorrow. If you get it, how about Brooke and I take you out for something special?” Kaitlyn said.

I very nearly said “it’s a date,” but stopped myself because Kaitlyn and I weren’t dating. At least, we weren’t dating as far as I was aware. We never went out to do anything romantically, but we were good at making out and hot sex, and were finally figuring out how to talk to each other, so that was something.

Did I want to be dating Kaitlyn Pruitt? That was the question, wasn’t it.

Ultimately, I settled on saying, “Sure. Sounds great.”

“Cool!” she said, taking my wilted cock in hand and cupping the balls. “Now, do you think you can get this up and ready for draining one more time before we get to tutoring?”

Feeling it stir, I said, “I’ll give it my best.”


The office of the Regan Hills High Puma Press was the kind of place I could’ve gotten lost in.

It was, like any of the less funded rooms at school, a collection of a thousand different artifacts from a thousand different eras, all expected to serve the needs of our school right here, right now. There were framed front pages from the Puma bahis şirketleri Press going back forty years to various significant historical events (all covered with the delicacy of a high school paper), and islands of tables, no two of which matched each other, each surrounded by mismatched and damaged chairs clearly salvaged from classrooms that didn’t need them anymore. Technology was scant, with a giant and ancient copying machine in one corner making strange noises even though it wasn’t in use, a ring of computers around the room of varying usefulness depending on their age (some of them had to date back to the ’90s), and a sign leading to a black doorway at the far end of the room that read “Dark Room”, which would’ve been useful in the days before all cameras were digital.

It was a mess of a room, but it had a smell, an energy to it that I liked. It was an intimidating kind of feeling, one of rushed deadlines and fierce argument, the kinds of things I normally tried to avoid, but somehow it felt right to me.

That was probably the only reason I wasn’t completely bombing this interview.

Well, that and the room being empty, save for me and my interviewer.

18-year-old editor of the Puma Press Nadia Barclay flipped through my limited portfolio of sample articles that Tori had me draft up, occasionally raising an eyebrow, but mostly remaining immovable and stoic.

“This sports article isn’t very good,” she said.

“Sorry. I’m… not much into sports, but-“

“Neither am I, but the school requires that we put an inordinate amount of attention on it and entertainment related trivialities in order to maintain our funding. Besides, close to ninety percent of the people who want on this paper want to talk sports. Being a poor sports writer is not going to work against you here,” Nadia said.

“Well, uh, good,” I responded.

“It doesn’t help you, though,” Nadia added as she continued looking over my portfolio. She was pretty in a severe sort of way. A black girl with dark skin and long black hair held back in a single ponytail, lively brown eyes that scanned everything intensely behind wire-rimmed glasses. Dressed in a professional-looking sweater and jeans, she looked fairly calculating and ambitious, successful in the image she tried to give around the school of someone who’s worked their ass off to get to where they are. I knew her from a few classes, and she was easily one of the smartest and most driven people in our class and was one of the easiest people to bet on becoming successful after graduation. In the articles of hers I read in preparation for my interview, she came across as impassioned and eloquent and highly knowledgeable on whatever topic she tackled.

This intimidated me, because from everything I’d seen and heard, I was expecting her to be a cold person to deal with, but when she thought I wasn’t looking, I could swear I saw a smile or two crossing her lips while she read something I wrote. Impressing people was something I was new to, and impressing someone for reasons more than being pretty good at sex felt better than I’d expected.

“Your style’s a bit raw, but with a little practice, I think you show some promise. Was there any section of the paper you had in mind?” Nadia asked.

This felt promising. “I was hoping entertainment? Pop culture?”

I could’ve gone on about these subjects at length and done a damn sight better than anyone else currently on the school paper, and I was hoping that the sample articles I’d written would prove that, but right away Nadia shook her head.

“No dice. After sports, entertainment’s the other section we’re not lacking for volunteers on,” she said.

“I think I could offer a unique perspective, compared to the rest of your current writers,” I said.

“No one’s saying you can’t, but I think you can do better,” she said.

“I can?” I asked.

Nadia closed my portfolio and slid it across the table to me. “When you’re on a topic you actually give a shit about, you’re passionate, and you’re smarter than about half the people I’ve got writing for me. You should write about more important topics than superhero movies and video games. What would you think about writing for our Current Events section?”

I thought that she was in need of people to write for a more boring section, but it didn’t sound uninteresting.

“What would that entail?” I asked.

“Watching the news, reporting on what’s going on, trying to get everyone around here to actually give a shit about the world. Add a little flair to things without losing the facts. We also use Current Events to give a look at what’s going on around the school, so I might send you out from time to time interviewing interesting students up to interesting projects. Human interest stuff, but it doesn’t need to be fluff. It’s an underappreciated section, but it’s my goal to gain it some appreciation before I graduate, and I’d like you to be a part of that. The position’s yours, if you want it,” Nadia said.

Now this I didn’t see coming. I either expected her to say yes or no and send me on my way; I didn’t expect a voice in the matter. Having a choice actually made me feel, well, powerful in a way that I hadn’t expected. It was like… shit, did she respect me?

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