Page 155 of Good Losers (Lochkelvin Academy)

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Somehow, Danny’s scowl deepens, a furious vee sloping down his brow. He turns his back to Rory, focusing on me like my wishes are far more important.

When Danny asks me, wordless and with only a raised eyebrow, I whisper to him innocently, “Well, I wouldn’t object.”

He exhales, screwing his eyes shut. The bulge beneath his boxers is still firm, still significant and glorious. If anything, since being bossed around by Rory, the prospect of getting completely naked has only hardened it, enlarged it. My mouth fills with saliva — I want to touch it, I want to see it…

Danny hooks his fingers beneath the elastic and gradually drops his boxers. His erection stands proudly to attention, its dark shining tip catching the lamplight, the wet, straining hardness almost as much of an obscene shock as its fat, full length.

I feel my hole grow wetter just by looking at it, I feel it flutter with anticipation. It occurs on some primal level, a level whose cravings I can’t control. A level that wants Danny to take his magnificent beast of a cock and use it to split me in two.

There’s a low whistle from behind us — Finlay, I note distantly. Even Rory radiates a kind of astonishment, as though begrudgingly paying his respects with a brief, reverent silence.

“What the fuck, Hamilton?” Rory eventually snaps, sounding annoyed all over again. It’s one of the few times, I realize, he’s called him by his surname and not his stupid nickname. “You creep around school like a beta twat all the while carrying a raging monster like that in your pants? The fuck is wrong with you?”

I imagine the answer to that lies, like all things, with Danny’s cruel father. For a moment, I wonder if Rory’s words are horrendously tactless, if even he’s managed to overstep the mark, but Danny’s cheeks are flushed pink with a deep, satisfied pleasure — an acknowledgment that Rory’s approval, no matter how barbed, is a rare treasure indeed.

“Anyway. Good,” Rory drawls, businesslike once more, as though it pains him to praise Danny in any way. “Now quit with the goo-goo eyes — that goes for you too, saint — and go down on her.”

“Surely another kiss first?” Danny asks, sounding offended.

“Quite. So hurry up and kiss her cunt.”

I swallow dry in my throat. Rory says these things, spits them out effortlessly — words my protected ass had never heard anyone use before I came here to study — like he has no idea the effect it has on me. He has no idea of the hot anticipation that shimmers down my body like a cascade of shooting stars.

Danny hesitates, the beads of perspiration across his hairline growing in size. He glances down at the red silk of my panties, contemplating my lower half as though pleasuring me is in some way a Sisyphean task.

“Is this what you want?” Danny asks me, nervous and serious.

I nod at him. It’s on the tip of my tongue to whisper in clarification, “I want whatever Rory wants,” but I hold back, knowing my blind devotion to Rory Munro would only scare away Danny.

Slowly, Danny positions himself on his knees between my thighs. His large cock bobs impossibly upright, seemingly defying physics, the tip of it kissing the teasing trail of hair that leads to his soft brown curls.

As he finds a comfortable position between my spread legs, I’m struck by the realization that I’m still wet from Luke, still open and gaping from the revelation of Danny’s cock. He shifts closer toward me, compelled to draw more of me into his orbit. After a small, thoughtful moment, he lowers his mouth and plants a gentle kiss onto the warm silk of my panties.

I burn in seconds.

It’s one brief, hesitant kiss, and yet my soul ignites. The idea that it’s Danny — sweet Danny — with his head bowed at my cunt, breathing me in like he can’t resist, lowering his lips to me with just as much hunger as Luke… With gentle, trembling fingers, Danny pulls aside the silk curtain and observes.

What he sees seems to floor him. His mouth parts and seals, over and over. He adjusts his position again, his body stretching out and colliding, once more, with Rory. Rory shoves him aside, and Danny’s feet end up dangling off the edge of the mattress.

“Have you kissed her cunt yet?” When Danny doesn’t reply, seemingly still in a daze, Rory looks to me for confirmation.

I shake my head, breathless. “Just the fabric.”

Danny’s still staring at my folds, his eyes absorbing every little detail. His fingers twitch around my thighs, as though in a bid to touch me, but he doesn’t move his hands. He simply stares at me, like touching may overwhelm him further.

“Luke,” Rory drawls, turning his head to his fellow chief. Luke, who had been watching the show on the sofa beside Finlay, cocks a dark eyebrow. “Show the virgin where the hell to put his mouth, yeah?”

Luke stands, swaggering over to the bed. Luke’s presence seems to snap Danny out of it, and he mutters, red-cheeked, “I know where to put my mouth!”

Nevertheless, Luke slides onto the bed at a right angle to Danny. He catches my eye with a small, unreadable smile, before pointing in the direction of my clit. Danny gazes at him in alarm, looking embarrassed that this is happening, but Luke doesn’t leave, his poised finger hovering coolly above me.

Reluctantly, Danny’s head lowers, his chin brushing my folds. His tongue darts, almost snakelike, onto the bead of my clit, before returning to his mouth a nanosecond later.

It’s something for my clit, it’s the tiniest stab of friction it’s received all night, but it’s nowhere near the frenzied sensation it craves.

Luke’s lips purse, and I realize he’s trying not to laugh. Danny may have been blessed with a giant swinging dick but he’s clearly clueless about how to actually please a woman.

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