Title: Strawberries and Chocolate
Cosmo Girl Question 1: Have you dated before?
Let's not begin this by being ridiculous. She was Meg Osaka, one of the most popular and sought-after girls in the school; it was a given that she had dated before. But she made it a principle to date men, not boys. The former were mature, wealthy and knowledgeable, the latter were inconsiderate and calling them retarded would be an insult to the mentally disabled community.
To her, Valentine's Day was predominantly a useless parade off faked smiles and feigned happiness all in the hope of perpetuating her heightened popularity status for just one more day. It was not that she was a mousy, unpopular girl who received no attention from the opposite gender and thus dismissed the festivities completely. She just did not fully appreciate this particular cohort of males, so for the past three years she'd needed to endure dozens of confession letters and more than a mountain's worth of chocolate.
By the way, she hated chocolate.
Fortunately, she was a senior year. This signalled the final year in which she would reign in free cavities from this particular crowd. This also signalled the last year she would be considered jailbait. Granted, this particular attribute had not stopped men in the past, but there was still a stigma among women.
"Say, are you going to eat that?" The signature perky voice of Serena Tsukino, Meg's best friend, caught her attention and she took her seat beside Meg and plucked a caramel crème chocolate from the open box. "I am so jealous, Meg. I wish I were half as popular as you!"
That, Meg decided, was ridiculous- almost as ridiculous as Serena thinking that Meg would actually want to eat those chocolates. Serena was a man magnet, a hot man magnet. She always had been. Not only was she currently dating one of the best-looking Japanese male models in existence, Darien Shields, but that was probably the primary reason why Serena wasn't reaping in her usual share of thigh-widening calorie bombs.
"Take as many as you want." Meg said, pushing the box in her direction. She had purposefully left it open just for this, and another classmate walking by the desk sheepishly swooped her fingers in and plucked a chocolate from its foil.
Yes, Meg thought, step into my web.
"Thank you, Meg." The girl crooned, and skipped off to join a cluster of cheerleaders from whom Meg had taken this Cosmo magazine from. Meg was friends with them, but her nihilistic personality left her feeling nauseated when she spent prolonged amounts of time in their presence.
"Students, rise!" A voice called out, and all of the students rose to their feet. Popping a piece of gum lazily into her mouth, Meg pushed her chair back and was the last to stand. The doors slid open, and their new homeroom teacher entered. As much as she hated to admit it, she nearly choked on that stupid candy.
Not only was he relatively young, but he was tall, broad-shouldered, and incredibly handsome. His long hair was chestnut brown and wavy, and he had the most piercing blue eyes that set off his deeply tan skin. Serena leaned over to Meg almost immediately. "Whoa, what a hottie!"
"Is he foreign?" Meg asked, not needing to be told how attractive he was. Perhaps he was a mix. He had an Eastern Asian face, but with tan skin, brown hair, and blue eyes. Distinctly non-Japanese physical attributes.
"The name is Maxfield Stanton, but the usual formalities will be enforced. To be clear, this is class 4-B. Are there any questions before I take attendance?"
His voice was low, deep, and no-nonsense. Like crushing gravel under your shoe. It also sounded as if he smoked one too many cigarettes in a day, but in a sexy way. Meg would be the first to admit that she was mesmerized, but she was not the first to speak up. As the students took their seats, she could hear the low chorus of excited girls beginning to chatter about him.
"Are there any questions before I take attendance?"
"Are you single?" One of the girls called out, before a symphony of giddy giggles erupted in the classroom.
There was an approximate equal ratio of boys to girls in the class, which left no shortage of competition. He hadn't even given Meg a single glance since he'd entered, which meant that the first opportunity she would likely get to catch his attention would be when he called her name when taking roll.
Hopefully, she looked as good in her custom-fitted V-neck white blouse and cross tie as she thought.
Maxfield gave a short sweep across the class with his eyes. He had more than enough experience with raving, hormone-high, younger (and even older) fan girls in his time. They tended to make a career of making his life harder than he would ordinarily prefer. This school was no different, and neither was this class. Already he had answered three inappropriate questions about his personal life, one of which related to his girlfriend. Naturally, he had avoided the question.
If any of these high school jailbaits thought they had a shot compared to an international supermodel like Melissa Daniels, then the chemicals in their cheap hair dye and heavy perfume were clearly seeping into their skin and inducing school-wide brain tumors.
"Rebecca." Maxfield read off of the attendance sheet, his eyes flicking up around the class. A spray-tanned, cardboard-colored poster girl for sun damage raised her hand excitedly.
"Call me Becca," she said with a sweet smile. "All my friends do."
These girls may be cute with their little schoolgirl uniforms and attempts to modify the lengths of their skirts, but there was always something about these kinds of beach girls that struck a nerve with him.
He continued on. "Meg?"
There was probably a quiet lull for about two seconds, the time it took for him to look up and scan the class more thoroughly. His gaze caught on one girl's face in particular: pale, porcelain-esque, and classic. She had a brown, almost dark red shade to her gentle curls, which was uncharacteristic of a Japanese. Her emerald green eyes locked with his, and he continued to watch her with nonchalance as she stood with confidence. The top of her uniform was low and the first button was undone, leaving him with his wandering imagination. Tilting her head and giving him an amused smile that caught him off guard, she gave a light bow.
"Nice to meet you, Mr. Stanton. I am Meg, the class president."
She had a very beautiful face for a teenager, with big eyes and long eyelashes. She had a small, pouty mouth, and was well-endowed in many areas. He did not dare lower his eyes past the threshold of her jawline, and he continued to call the next name on the attendance list.
Yeah, Meg thought, pleased with herself, I got him for sure. He had spotted her before she'd even needed to breathe a word. He opened his mouth momentarily to say something back, but then he cleared his throat and had continued on to Justin Fields. Now, all she needed to do was make sure she could catch a moment with him privately. Being the class president, that shouldn't be an overly hard thing to do.
She was quiet for the rest of the class. In fact, she was abnormally quiet. But this was probably the best way for her to get his attention, by blatantly not paying attention and doodling in her notebook. About twenty minutes before the end of class, Maxfield stood over her desk and looked at her disapprovingly.
"Meg, if you would be so kind as to give me the definition and an example of 'hubris?'" He asked her sternly.
Meg lifted her eyes and gave him a sleepy, hooded-eye stare, putting one hand on her face. Looking down at her like this, he could see the cleavage formed by her cream-colored skin. "Hubris means excessive pride." She said after a moment of thought. "For example, when Icarus had the pride and excessive confidence to fly too close to the sun and taking on god-like qualities, and ended up melting his man-made wax wings and plummeted to his death."
"... What are you doing?" He asked, picking up her notebook. "What is this, anyway?"
"A shopping list." Meg replied with a mischievous smile. She half hoped that he wouldn't read her list of lingerie from Victoria's Secret out loud, and fortunately he didn't. Looks like he was hooked, otherwise he definitely would have busted her.
"Come see me after class." He set the notebook back down on her desk and continued the lecture. Grinning, Meg turned the page and actually began paying attention to their new faculty member in anticipation for the bell to ring.
Okay, so she was hot. She was also young. Something about virgin girls didn't really impress him anyways, especially not when he had a wild sex kitten like Melissa. Still, there was something strangely mesmerizing about her. Maybe it was the thrill of potentially getting caught. Maybe it was the thought that close to no men had gotten to touch those large, soft, easily C-cup tits of hers.
Despite her age and assumed lack of experience, she was not very shy. Very obvious, in fact, what with her little list of bras and thongs. But if the intention was for him to imagine her in them, it definitely worked. Fuck it, he had even asked for her to stay behind after school. This had "danger" written all over it.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
"What did you want to talk to me about?" Meg asked, inquisitively staring up at Maxfield by the time the last student had left the classroom.
"Ideas for the school festival. I hear it's coming up quickly, Meg, and I don't think you realize how behind you are. I hear tell the class has been getting antsy for days now. As class president, you should be on top of these things, rather than coming up with silly little lists for class."
He seemed a little bit more harsh than she was used to, but he must not have been intimidated or afraid of her because he had obviously asked her to stay after school.
"Yes," Meg began, leaning back against his desk. It was a gesture that made her bust stick out more, and she was more than aware of it. "I've been working as hard as I can to brainstorm. The VP's been sick so I have no second opinions. Maybe with your help I can find some motivation?" She asked, biting her lower lip and gazing up at him. He seemed temporarily distracted by that movement, so she continued on. She reached up and tugged a little with his tie, her knee raising and gently massaging the increasing bulge in his pants.
"Or maybe not." She said quietly. "I mean, you're probably eager to get back to your girlfriend at home." She leaned back until she sitting fully on the table, and her hands slid down her inner thighs. "I'll just take care of myself here."
Before she could go further, Maxfield grabbed her shoulders and pushed her— not painfully—until her back was pressed against the surface of the table.
"Fuck," he cursed under his breath. "Do you even know what you're saying?"
Her legs were spread at the end of the table, and now that he had pushed her his body was in-between them. She could feel his appreciation for her pressed against the thin material of her panties. From here, she could feel a certain pulsation vibrating against her with every heart beat.
"What do you want from me?" He whispered hoarsely into her ear, and she couldn't help but release a seductive moan as he trailed one rough hand up her thigh where her skirt had inadvertently hiked up.
"I think that's a question I should be asking you." Meg whispered, grasping his free hand and sliding it under her shirt against her flat stomach. "What do you want from me?"
"I shouldn't be doing this. You're just a kid." Quickly snapping back to his senses momentarily, Maxfield moved back and bumped clumsily into the chalkboard.
"I'm seventeen-years-old, and you've got to be no more than twenty-six. I am no child." Meg lifted herself up until she was in a sitting position again and crossed her legs. "But you're right, maybe we shouldn't be doing this... here. Maybe we should go back to your place?"
Maxfield's mouth opened to say something about her unexpected boldness, but he was definitely in no mood to convince her not to sleep with him. She was right—she wasn't an insanely large number of years younger than he was.
But it was taboo.
But she was fucking sexy.
But she was underage.
But she wanted to fuck him.
"Screw it." Grabbing her hand, the two of them burst out of the back exit that led to the parking lot. By this time, the students had cleared out from the building so he had one thing less to worry about. Luckily, his bungalow was just on the other side of the field, and was free of troublesome neighbors eavesdropping through thin walls.
"My God, this is your place?" Meg's eyes were as wide as saucers as he let her in. The place was huge. Maxfield released her hand and paused for a moment.
"Are you thirsty? Would you like a drink?" He asked awkwardly.
Meg turned around, and bumped open the slightly ajar door to his bedroom with her ass. Her eyes dropped to the crotch of his pants. "Yes, I would. Are you coming?"
Chuckling to himself at the very straightforward, hormone-driven young girl that was very uncommonly horny for her age, Maxfield grabbed a bottle of vodka and was about to reach for a chaser when he heard a loud, intentional moan. Cursing himself, he ignored the shot glasses and brought only the alcohol into his room.
Meg was lying down on his bed, one hand behind her head. Her back was arched, and the next two buttons of her blouse were undone. Her free hand was down her skirt, and her tie was hanging loose around her neck.
"Oh... fuck." Walking over, with one strong swoop he lifted her up the bed and up against him. Meg wrapped her legs around her waist and moved her arms so that her breasts were extended irresistibly by his face.
"Sorry, you were saying something about me being a child?" She asked with a smile before pressing her full lips against his with such force that he fell backwards against the bed. Straddling his body, she began grinding hers against him.
How many dudes has this girl been with? Maxfield's train of thought kept interfering iwth that one. Meg unbuttoned the rest of her shirt to reveal a pure white, lacy bra. She certainly was very well-endowed. Reaching behind her, in one swift movement the undergarment was unclasped and had fallen down against his chest.
"Do you want me?" She whimpered, slowly rocking her hips against him. The intended effect was for him to see her breasts jiggle, and indeed they jiggled like they were pressed up against a fucking vibrator.
When he didn't respond, she slid down onto her knees and pulled down his pants. "Tell me when you do." She teased.