Page 22 of The Boys Next Door

“Right, Diana?”

Shit. Ms. Fielding’s voice. Everyone in the classroom turned to stare at her. She crossed one leg over the other. It hit her: her thighs were slick.

“Right. Absolutely.” She smiled brightly. God, she could feel Ian’s hot tongue playing over her clit, while Brendan coaxed her to take more of his cock in her mouth. Even though she hadn’t loved the taste of his cum, she wouldn’t mind trying it again. And she hadn’t gotten to taste Ian…

“You always have something to say on this topic. I thought you’d want to chime in.”

“I guess I’ve already said everything.”

A few people laughed. Across the aisle, Marissa rolled her eyes.

“Where’d you go?” she hissed. “If it was anyone else, I’d swear you’re high.”

She broke off when Ms. Fielding eyed them, sighing.Seniors,her expression said. She gave Diana a particular look, like she expected more of her. Diana nodded apologetically, her pen scratching across more blank paper.

None of her high school friends knew the O’Brian twins had been like her brothers, long ago. Everyone knew who they were, of course. Brendan’s popularity as student body president, Ian’s pranks, their basketball success, and their identical good looks still echoed off the school walls.

But Diana had drifted from her childhood friends, the ones who giggled about her “neighbor twins,” during her year away. And she doubted the twins’ friends remembered the girl next door who’d hung around like an annoying little sister, trying to keep up with the jokes, trash talk, and death-defying skateboard stunts.

As for the twins? They’d moved on. They probably teamed up to seduce a new girl each weekend, and were already trotting off to make their next conquest. But she couldn’t help reliving every single burning minute of their time together — the pool, the treehouse, their parents’ bed, the kitchen — and imagining more.

Even as she told herself sternly to focus, right here, right now, in her mind she was on her hands and knees at the front of the classroom, taking Brendan’s impossibly slow, deep, sensuous thrusts from behind while she swirled her tongue around Ian’s pulsing cock. When Brendan began caressing her clit and Ian gripped her hair with both hands, she clenched her thighs together in her seat, pushed her glasses casually up her nose, and smoothed her strawberry-printed skirt over her knees — the kind of clothing that had earned Ian’s “librarian-on-crack” comment.

When she glanced to the side, she saw Alex Noriega, the boy next to her, checking out her full breasts. It was the sort of thing that would have made her expire from shame three days ago, unable to meet his eyes or talk to him for the rest of the year. Now, with lust arrowing through her body, it made her stomach lurch with excitement.

She watched Alex calmly until he glanced up. Their gaze held for a minute before he looked away — him, not her.

As soon as the bell rang, she gathered her books, panted “Meet you outside” to Marissa, and sped to the nearest restroom. Leaning against the wall in the furthest stall from the door, she reached inside her damp panties and stroked her swollen clit, trying not to moan.

God, her pussy was so hot and wet, and oh yes, Alex was on his knees in front of her, his head under her skirt, lapping up her cream as she purred and stroked his head. When she was about to come, she pushed him away and— Jesus, Brendan’s cock was sinking into her again, filling her, stretching her eager cunt, while Ian grunted about how fucking good her tongue felt on his shaft and flooded her mouth with hot cum.

She shuddered, her thighs trembling, as Brendan teased her clit with aching patience and murmured about what a good girl she was. Yesssss…his thrusts were getting deeper, almost painful and so very good. She bit her fist to keep from shrieking as she came, her whole body spasming and her still-tender pussy clenching tightly while she circled her clit until she was limp against the wall of the stall.

As she washed her hands and splashed water on her cheeks, her ears ringing from the three girls gossiping about last week’s prom by the tampon machine, sanity slowly returned.

Her friends would be waiting for her outside the cafeteria, tapping their feet over her lateness. She needed to be careful. She was a ball of lust right now. Alex had been cooperative in her fantasy, but who knew what signals she might send out to him or any other boys at school if she didn’t watch herself — or how they’d react?

*

Voices and laughter surrounded Diana as she edged into the crowded hall. Arousal still flushed her curves, juices soaked her panties, and her throat begged for a nice cold Coke. Her glasses kept slipping down her nose, and she would have just taken them off if it didn’t mean the hallway fuzzing out in front of her.

Turning down the nearest staircase, she walked on wobbly legs toward the cold drinks she knew were waiting at the bottom. Every step made her pussy twinge.

At the foot of the stairs, she stopped. No. Not this vending machine. Not the one by the gym, the one she’d avoided so carefully for the past four years.

Slowly, she walked forward, eyeing the tall humming box. She’d made it a point of pride not to walk by the gym or use the vending machine down here — first on purpose, then by force of habit.

She didn’t need to relive middle school P.E.: boys staring at her bouncing chest during the dreaded mile run; girls whispering in the locker room, where there was no private place to change. She didn’t need to rub shoulders with the jock population. And she definitely hadn’t needed to run into the O’Brian twins, who no doubt had camped out down here.

Now, the machine in front of her, glowing invitingly, looked just like the vending machine on the other side of school. Of course she’d stop here for a Coke. It was so much closer to her AP World History class — and the doors to meet her friends outside. The hallway was dimly lit, empty and quiet right now. Why had she been so terrified for four years?

But, as she slipped her dollar into the machine, her heart still pounding and her body flushed from her orgasm minutes earlier, she suddenly remembered the one other time she’d come here for a drink.

Sophomore year. March. Trees were budding outside. After school, she’d run down from a literary magazine meeting on the top floor. Craving caffeine and sugar, she’d headed straight to the basement hallway she’d always avoided, streaking down the flights of stairs, still thinking about Angela Delfina’s stubborn insistence that the magazine change its format and wondering whether she’d have the guts to push back.

The smell hit her first: a wave of chlorine, sweat, and springtime-fresh deodorant that announcedgym.It stopped her halfway down the staircase.

But the sight at the bottom froze her in place: a tall, half-naked, muscular guy bent over the vending machine, scooping out a can. A towel was slung around his neck. His shorts hung low on his hips.

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