Lincoln Loud was sitting outside the principal's office at 11:57am, his fists balled in his lap. He was angry and he didn't know why, but he didn't give a shit. Some chick passed by, a little skirt climbing up her ass, and he leaned forward to get a better look. "Damn, mama," he said loud enough for her to hear. She glanced over her shoulder and glared at him. Lincoln leaned back and crossed his arms; he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, and she shook her head.

Frigid bitch. She was probably a dyke anyway.

The door to the outer office opened and the secretary stuck her head out. "Principal Nolan will see you now."

Lincoln sighed and stood. Go talk to this asshole.

Principal Nolan's office was a cramped, sun washed space filled with potted plants, filing cabinets, and the smell of Ben-Gay. The man sat behind a big oaken desk, 90 if he was a day. Lincoln was under the impression that people eventually retired, but not this dude, apparently.

"Sup?" Lincoln said as he dropped into a chair.

Principal Nolan looked at him with knitted eyebrows. "Mr. Loud," he greeted tightly. "Mrs. Johnson says you punched another student."

Lincoln shrugged. "I didn't like the way he was looking at me so I popped him in his face."

"From what I understand," Nolan said, shuffling papers, "he was asking to use a pencil."

"Shoulda brought his own," Lincoln replied, crossing his arms. "I mean, what do I look like, a pencil factory? If I give him a pencil, I might not have a pencil later, and I'll be fucked."

Nolan's eyes widened. "Watch your language."

"My bad. Like I was saying, dude shoulda had his own pencil."

Nolan sighed. "If you don't want to lend another student a pencil, that is your prerogative, Mr. Loud, but attacking someone for simply asking is unacceptable."

"Okay," Lincoln said.

"And your attitude is unacceptable as well. You've been a student here for years, Mr. Loud, and I've yet to have a problem with you, so I will let you go with a stern warning. The next time, you will be suspended."

Lincoln started to talk, but thought better of it. Alright. Fine. I won't hit any more little faggots who lost their pencils in their buttholes. Happy, pops? "I understand, sir," he said.

"Good, now get to lunch."

Lincoln stood, nodded, and left the office. In the cafeteria, he waited in line, getting impatient. The kid ahead of him was being loud and pretending he was a space ranger or some shit. Pew pew this, and whoosh that. It was all Lincoln could do to keep from going upside his head. When his turn came, he grabbed a tray and took it down the line, a fat, ugly, smelly lunch lady doling out a tiny portion of mashed potatoes, green beans, and mystery meat. He took his tray to his usual table, where Clyde was waiting.

"Hey, buddy," Clyde said as Lincoln sat.

"Hey," Lincoln said. Man, that mystery meat looked good. The hot smell of microwaved protein drifted to his nostrils, and he shivered.

"I heard you hit Billy Dorgan in the face today," Clyde said, "just because he was asking for a pencil."

"His bitch ass had it coming," Lincoln said, cutting his meat in half with his fork.

"Dr. Lopez says..."

"Fuck Dr. Lopez and fuck you, let me eat my lunch."

Clyde stiffened. "If that's how you feel..."

"It is."

Without another word, Clyde got up and left. Punk ass motherfucker. Always talking about Dr. Lopez. Lincoln wondered if Clyde had a girly little crush on Dr. Lopez or something. She probably jacked him off during their sessions.

Speaking of jacking off, there was Ronnie Anne. Lincoln grinned. "Hey, baby! Come here!"

She looked at him, an eyebrow lifting, and came over. "Uh. Hi."

"How's it going?" Lincoln grinned.

"Okay. You?"

"Better now," he said, leaning closer.

A light blush touched her face.

"You know, I was thinking, maybe we can hang out later. You know, play some video games or something. How about it?"

"I don't know," she said, "the last time you came over you got a little weird."

"That's because I was a bitch last week. I'm not a bitch now." He leered, and she cocked her head.

"Okay. I'll think about it."

"You do that," he said, "but don't think too hard and hurt that pretty little head of yours."

Her brow furrowed. "I'll try not to."

She turned and walked away, and Lincoln watched her ass move under her shorts. Ummmmm. Damn. He felt his dick get hard and wondered if he should chase her down and rub it against her. Prove that he wasn't a little homo. Where's a ball when you need one? Maybe he'd play sports with Lynn when he got home. Throw a football at her face and tackle her to the ground. Then put his dick in her.

A small part of his brain screamed that he was terrible and awful, but he ignored it. Only weak ass beta males doubted themselves. Like Clyde. Dude was a total beta. Lincoln didn't even want to hang out with him anymore.

For the rest of the day, Lincoln thought about fucking his sisters and punching people in the face. When he got home, he saw Luan sitting on the couch, and his dick swelled. How are you gonna walk around in a short skirt with knee high socks and expect not to get fucked? She looked up and smiled, a blush crossing her face when she noticed his erection.

"Hey, Linc, hard day?"

"Not 'til I got home and saw you," he said, closing the door. She blushed harder and glanced over her shoulder. Lori poked her head out from the kitchen and gave her a thumbs up. Before Lincoln got home, they decided she would be first because she was the most nervous. Might as well get it out of the way, like ripping off a Band-Aid.

"Do you wanna...go upstairs?" she asked. "I need your help."

"Yeah?" Lincoln asked. "With what?"

"I need to lose something and I kind of need someone to help me lose it."

Lincoln leered. "Alright. Glad to help. Come on."

Luan followed him into his room and shut the door. "You-"

Before she could finish her thought, Lincoln spun, swept her into his arms, and shoved his tongue into her mouth. For a moment she was frozen, her entire body flushing. Then, closing her eyes, she kissed him back, their tongues slipping and sliding over one another. He turned her around and pushed her onto the bed.

"Damn, Linc," she huffed, "that was nice."

He grinned as he pulled down his jeans and underwear, his dick springing out. Luan's eyes widened. It was big and veiny...and beautiful. She licked her lips as she slid her panties down. "Come here," she said, wiggling her finger.

Lincoln mounted her and pressed himself against her hole. "Whoa!" she said. "How about some foreplay?"

For a minute, Lincoln simply looked at her, then he reached down, squeezed her breast through her shirt, and said, "There you go." Before she could protest, he jammed himself into her, and she jumped, his meaty rod filling her to point of bursting. It hurt like hell, but it felt good too.

"Oh, yes!" she cried, grabbing a handful of the cover. "Don't cum in me, though."

"Okay," Lincoln said, thrusting. It felt like he was going to pierce her womb, the mixture of pleasure and pain making her dizzy. He thrusted three more times, then swelled. What the-?

Suddenly, he was pumping loads of hot cum deep into her stomach. "Lincoln!" she yelled, pushing him off. He was still going: Cum splattered her skirt, her socks, and the bed. "I told you not to cum in me!"

"Sorry," he said in a tone that indicated he wasn't.

"Lincoln, this is serious! You could get me pregnant!" She was flushed with anger and fear now instead of desire.

"I'm sorry, okay?" Lincoln said. "It was an accident." He was lying on his back, looking up at the ceiling and getting real tired of her shit.

Luan sighed. Whatever. "I didn't even get to cum."

"No, but you get to go," Lincoln said, gesturing toward the door. "Bye."

Luan gritted her teeth. "Bastard." She got up, his seed coursing in rivulets down her legs. She grabbed her underwear.

"Have fun being a single mother."

She spun and bent, her eyes blazing. "Fuck you!"

"You already did," Lincoln grinned.

"Did I? It was over so quick..."

"Fuck out of here, ho."

Luan shook her head, ripped the door open, went through, and slammed it as hard as she could.