Chapter 19
A/N: Derimon2017: Thank you for your reviews for Chapter 15 in May 2020 and of Chapter 18 in June 2020. They are appreciated. As for your comment, I don't think Arianna will be making Simon choose between her and his friends… I think that in theory she could if she thought of it, but she's not likely to. She largely avoids the Corps of Cadets and only associates with Simon because she noticed him and found he was different from many of the boys, a lot of whom act like Jack Merridew did.
AM83220: Like the rest of this story, this chapter is due very much to your work on preparing a narrative summary for it. You asked me to write your Lord of the Flies story idea years ago, and it ended up turning into two works, but the original is now getting closer to completion, finally. I hope both versions of the story are what you'd hoped they would be. Naturally, even though you supplied me with a summary to base the chapter on, I did make a few changes and add some content of my own.
Steve looked hesitantly over at Simon, his Chief, idol, and even his friend, wondering yet again if this was really such a good idea.
"Of course it is," Simon told him, startling the blond, who hadn't realized he'd spoken aloud.
"I just don't know," Steve sighed. "I'm just not sure."
"You're always sure when you're with a girl," Simon told him. "You fuck her like you're the king of the world, don't you?"
"Well, yeah, but, that's different."
"Is it?" Simon asked. "You go in confidently, you do what you gotta do, and you have fun."
"I'd have an easier time if I just needed to fuck a girl out on that field," Steve sighed, gesturing toward the green soccer field.
"You already did that back at home."
Steve laughed. "Yeah," he admitted, "I kinda did."
"So you've already been there, done that."
"Yeah." Steve smiled, feeling more at ease despite himself. "You really think I can do this? Even after tryouts already ended?"
Simon nodded, meeting his gaze evenly. "Yes. I don't see why not."
"Can you help talk to Coach Delhaize for me?" Steve asked, almost pleading. "I can't talk to people like you can."
"You can do this," Simon said yet again. "If you get nervous, just think about one of the girls you've fucked licking you in your good spot."
"Oh, man, but then I get hard," Steve said, feeling even more frustrated. "God, I need to fuck a girl right now. I can't go dry for even a day. I need to relax."
"Then you organize a trip tonight. Take Patterson and Ralph. You guys can go right after lights out. But before you can do that, you know what you gotta do?"
"Damn it," Steve sighed. "Yeah, I know what I gotta do."
"C'mon, let's go and talk to Coach," Simon said, clapping Steve on his left shoulder. "I'll be with you the whole time."
"Okay, okay."
ΩΩΩΩΩ
Coach Delhaize was busy going over his notes for today's practice, jotting down his observations and the plans for the next practice coming up, when two teenage boys approached him. They weren't in soccer uniform, and the blond one looked a bit green around the gills.
"Hey, Coach," the darker-haired one called out. "How's it going?"
"Got a practice going on," Delhaize responded, a little gruffly. "Something you boys needed?"
"It's the practice we wanted to talk to you about, sir," the boy answered.
"And why is that?"
"My friend Steve here felt like playing some soccer," the boy went on.
"We've already had our tryouts."
"Have you seen this guy, sir? He's strong. He's fast. He'll be a great center, forward, goalie, defense- anything you want him to do."
"How come he's not talking?" Delhaize asked, looking skeptically at the well-muscled, pale youth looking up at him from under what was trying to be a shaggy cut of blond hair.
"He's just a little nervous, sir."
"Lemme hear something from him."
"G-good to go, sir!" the blond exclaimed, although Delhaize thought he saw the other boy elbow him quickly beforehand.
"Okay," Delhaize said with a shrug. "How old are you guys?"
"I'm twelve, sir," Steve answered.
"Twelve?"
"I'm big for my age," the blond insisted.
"I feel like I ought to send you over to Nanson and the Lower School team," Delhaize said. "But all right. You look like you might survive out there. Talk to Gabe Edwards. I'm having him lead the skins team for today's game. Tristan Pearson's leading the shirts team."
"All right!"
The blond whipped his shirt over his head and threw it away, revealing a stunning physique that most of the Upper School Varsity players didn't have. He enthusiastically sprinted out to greet the older boys and argued with them when they tried to send him away. He pointed back towards Delhaize a few times, and the older boys gathered around, looked, and Delhaize gave them a nod.
Finally, they shrugged and got started for the game. Gabe Edwards didn't seem much impressed with the new boy, sculpted, buff muscles or not, and he put the kid as a forward, probably expecting him to fail.
Instead, Delhaize watched as the blond went from an anxious, nervous kid to a professional athlete, focused, poised, and supremely confident. The harder he worked to keep the ball in his team's possession, the sweatier he became, but instead of growing tired he seemed to become happier, relishing the challenge and the exercise.
The boy's friend stood by Delhaize the whole time, watching the game just like the veteran coach was. Finally, after the blond had scored goal after goal and stood proudly on his cleats even after 90 minutes sprinting all over the field, the older boys gathered around him, shaking their heads in disbelief. A few were clearly pleased, though, and even shook hands with him.
As the blond trotted back over, he looked at Delhaize with a hopeful expression, and Delhaize, after a moment's consideration, went ahead and gave a thumbs-up. The blond kid looked stunned for a moment, then grinned.
ΩΩΩΩΩ
After making sure he listened attentively to all of Steve's excited rantings about the tryout he'd just done so well in, Simon went looking for Coach Morita of the Cross Country team, hoping he could talk him into an impromptu tryout just like Delhaize had agreed to.
They found him by the school's 400-meter outdoor track, going over some stats with several of the boys as the day's practice wrapped up. The lean, lanky runners gave the two well-muscled cadets a few curious glances, then went back to their post-practice stretches.
"Hey, Coach," Simon called, "can I join the team?"
That brought a chorus of laughter, and several of the runners shook their heads.
Morita was a lean man from Okinawa, and he had a keen eye for even the smallest details. He glanced at Simon. "You have to be kidding," he replied. "This is too far past that point. No."
"Well, what about Zabka?" Simon asked, looking at the tall blond senior who had been talking to Coach Morita.
"What about Zabka?" the blond demanded to know, looking and sounding mildly annoyed.
"I could race him," Simon said, thinking quickly.
"You should have shown up well before today," Morita said shortly. He turned back to Zabka, but spared a curious glance as Simon pulled his shirt over his head and threw it away. Without waiting for anyone to tell him to, Simon went over to the low fence bordering the track and started doing his stretches.
Simon made sure that Coach Morita got a good look at his awesome physique as he did those stretches, all the suntanned muscle he'd gained, buffed and chiseled on the island and in all the days since. His core was in extraordinarily good shape, as were his thighs, his calves- every inch of him was ready for this and then some.
Coach Morita watched for a few moments, then gestured to Zabka. "All right, Zabka, let's get this over with."
The blond came over and looked at Simon, lowering his voice as he pulled his own shirt off. "I'm the fastest long-distance runner on this team," he said quietly. "My best 2-mile is ten flat, kid."
"Sounds like we'll have fun, then," Simon answered calmly.
Zabka laughed. "Yeah. Maybe we will. Okay, man. Just remember you asked for this."
"I'll be fine," Simon replied politely.
"What you'd better be is ready, because I'm not taking it easy on you just because you look buff," Zabka said.
"I will be," Simon assured him.
"I'm looking forward to it," Zabka said. "Either you'll be a good runner or you'll have the sense to get lost after this. You seem pretty smart. Either one is fine with me."
"Okay, you two," Coach Morita called, walking over. "That's enough kissing before the run. Get out on the track."
"Yes, sir," they chorused.
Simon's challenge had earned some interest already; several boys who had been getting ready to leave now that practice was over had come back, and as Morita headed over toward the track, a small crowd of runners followed, watching the proceedings with interest.
"All right, gentlemen," Morita said. "This is a simple one-mile race. Nice and easy. Go for your threshold pace and show me what you've got, New Guy, because I'm only entertaining this once. Zabka, just do what you always do."
"Yes, Coach," Zabka answered firmly, already setting his eyes down the track.
"I'm ready," Simon said.
"Get ready! Get set! Go!"
Simon sprang forward instantly, his keen Hunter's instincts making his reaction time spot-on. He went almost all-out for the first half of lap one, but Zabka matched him easily without changing his pace any. He hadn't been kidding about his speed; as they rounded the track and completed the first 400 meters, Simon glanced at his watch and saw it had been exactly one minute.
The race grew tighter and more stressful as Zabka warmed up, maintaining his speed through lap two. Simon's breathing grew heavy and he could feel his body sweating hard as he worked to keep up. His body was extraordinarily fit, sure, but he'd been lifting weights and having sex since he'd gotten back, satisfying his two urgent needs. His runs had been at easier paces than this, and he was pushing himself harder than he'd expected.
Still, Simon had committed himself, and he had no intention of giving up. He did all he could to ignore the pain and drive past Zabka as they went into lap three, but Zabka was harder to catch than Simon had imagined. The blond never even glanced back; he just kept going, steady and sure of himself. Simon drove into an all-out sprint for the final 200 meters, but so did Zabka, and the blond shot across the line with Simon right on his heels. Close, yes, but behind him nonetheless.
"5:10 and 5:11," Coach Morita called out, and the Cross Country boys enthusiastically applauded. Many of them grinned and shook hands with Zabka, who seemed to remember Simon after a minute.
"Hey," Zabka said, turning back to look at his challenger. "That wasn't bad, man. Not bad." He paused, wiping sweat out of his eyes. "Yeah. Not bad. Come by the track sometime."
"I will."
"I'm Trevor Zabka," the blond said, offering his hand.
"Everybody just calls me Simon," the younger boy answered, trying not to gasp like a fish in front of everyone.
"Good to meet you, Simon," Zabka replied. "I gotta go. We'll do introductions with everybody else later. Nice work. We can make you even better."
"That's what I want."
"Great. See you, man."
"See you, dude."
"Not bad," Coach Morita said as he walked over, echoing Zabka's comments. "I had an open slot or two left, as it happens. Cross Country never gets the glory, you know. Come prepared to work hard, as hard as you did today. I don't care if you've got some princess of a girlfriend or two dozen of 'em, your time belongs to me for an hour every day, thirty minutes after classes let out."
"Yes, sir."
"Alright, you're dismissed. We'll get you signed up first thing during the week."
Simon nodded gratefully, then headed out with Steve in tow, still trying to keep his breathing under control. Only after he was away from the track and safely out of sight did Simon collapse to the ground and gratefully lie there on the grass, just happy to breathe. After five or ten minutes of that, he remembered he was still clad only in a pair of shorts, and made the brief walk back to retrieve his uniform shirt.
"That was fucking cool, Simon," Steve told him, looking out at the track. "You were amazing. You should've seen yourself."
"Thanks, Steve."
"Anytime."
ΩΩΩΩΩ
Later that afternoon, with Steve still chattering away and looking at him like an adoring puppy, Simon tried to get the topic to something else, anything, but ended up listening to long, graphic descriptions of Steve's favorite sex positions instead. It was technically a change, though, and Simon couldn't seem to stop thinking about sex, either. So rather than complain, Simon offered his own insights on the positions Steve mentioned, having tried all of them himself.
That, in turn, got Steve going even more. He loved talking about stuff like that, and in general he loved talking to Simon. They were more equals than master and apprentice these days, thankfully, but Steve still obviously looked up to him. Simon just hoped that he could continue to set a good example for Steve.
As they neared the track, Steve looked around self-consciously, then hugged Simon tightly. "Thanks. I was terrified back there. Thank you so much, man."
"Sure," Simon replied.
"You're my hero, man."
"I try."
Steve laughed, then let go. "Oh, and, if you tell anybody I said any of that, I'll, you know, I'll beat you up. Yeah."
"Okay. I won't tell anybody."
ΩΩΩΩΩ
Gabriel was roaming the stacks in the library, looking for something good to read on the establishment of the National Parks, when he rounded the end of one long shelf and knocked over a skinny kid. A book flew out of his hands and hit the carpeted floor with a thump.
"Oh, I'm sorry," Gabriel said, already reaching down to help.
"Getthefuckawayfromme," the kid hissed, scrambling away from the outstretched hand and standing up on his own. "You guys always do the same thing," he snarled. "I fucking hate- hey." The anger left his face, and recognition dawned. "Hey, man, I know you."
"Sorry I ran into you."
"It's whatever, I don't care," Sikorski answered, shrugging one bony shoulder. "You're not a fucking asshole. That's better than most of the guys around here."
"Um, sure. I mean thanks."
"I'd love to go to their house and fuck their bitch," Sikorski said eagerly. "Especially whatever girl Jack Merridew has at home. I'll keep her warm all night. Then I'll tell Jack all about it when I finally fucking go to Hell."
"Why do you think you're going to Hell?" Gabriel asked, surprised and dismayed.
"I'm fucking kidding," the boy snickered. "But if I can fuck Jack's bitch first, I'll go, I guess. But big saints like you, you go up in the clouds and stuff."
"I'm not a saint."
"Well, you sure act like one."
"Huh?"
"You heard what I said."
"Well, I mean-"
"It's a fucking compliment and I don't like giving 'em so you better take it," the younger boy warned.
"Uh… thanks?"
"You're welcome." Sikorski smiled. "I couldn't find any more books in Polish. Did you find any?"
"No, I was looking for-"
"I want to know where the books are that're in Polish."
"But I don't-"
"I like reading in Polish."
"I know, but-"
"You can help, can't you? I thought guys like you always helped."
"I'd like to help. Sure. But I don't know if we have a lot of books in Polish," Gabriel answered, feeling a little flustered now.
"But I want to read in Polish and you are a hero, so you will help me, yes?"
"I'm a hero?" Gabriel asked, stunned at the idea.
"I don't want any of your English books," the boy insisted. "Reading English is boring. Where are my Polish books?"
"Huh?"
Sikorski laughed, clearly enjoying himself. "You're the best guy we have here. I hope I can be like you someday." Then he turned, picked up his book and disappeared back into the rows of shelves, darting away, gleefully giggling to himself as Gabriel tried to find him.
Gabriel was so confused by the boy's quirks, by the way that he'd slipped in comments about regarding Gabriel as a saint and a hero, that he tried to keep looking for him anyway. On the fourth or fifth trip around a corner of another shelf, Gabe almost ran into a tall, well-muscled boy in the school's service dress blues, wearing the stripes of a cadet first sergeant.
"Woah, hey, man," the boy said, stepping back in surprise. "Slow down, would'ya? I got stuff to do, too."
"Sorry," Gabe said quickly. He gaped as he realized he was looking at Robert Patterson, remembered how much the other boy had grown on the island thanks to the berries. He couldn't think of a single time that they'd ever spoken before the island. Patterson was popular enough but rarely had much to say, and Gabriel had rarely tried meeting new people around here before the island.
"Uh… do you need something, man?" Patterson asked, visibly put off by the staring.
"Patterson," Gabriel said.
"That's me," the boy said. "Uh- hey, man, sorry, but do I know you or something?"
"I'm Piggy, remember? Gabriel Phelps?"
"Damn, you look- different," Patterson said hesitantly. "Better, I mean, but- uh- damn. I didn't even remember… I can't believe that's you."
"It's hard to believe," Gabriel acknowledged.
"What's going on, then?"
"Something's going on with Ralph," Gabriel said, getting right to the point. "He's really mad all the time. And he seems to think Simon is out to stage a coup and take over from him or something."
"Yeah…" Patterson replied, thinking about it. He put a hand to his chin, tilting his head one side. "I know what you mean. Ralph's pretty wound up."
"Did you just come back from the pool?" Gabriel asked suddenly, put off by the strong scent of chlorine water coming off the other boy.
"Huh? Yeah. Yeah, man, I was over there all morning."
"I thought the showers were supposed to get rid of that chlorine smell."
"They do, mostly, but-" Patterson grinned. "The girls love it, man."
"They love chlorine?" Gabriel asked in disbelief.
"Well, yeah. I mean, you didn't know?"
Gabriel made a face. Patterson laughed.
"Okay, seriously," Gabriel said. "Why's Ralph so mad at Simon?"
"I don't know, man," Patterson answered, turning serious again. "I don't know why."
"Don't you talk to him sometimes?"
"I do, but… he kind of only talks about the stuff that he wants to. I'm trying to just get along."
"We gotta find out what he's mad at Simon for."
"Yeah, I guess somebody does need to find out," Patterson admitted. "I dunno. But if I get any ideas about it I'll let you know."
"Okay," Gabriel said, figuring this was the best they were going to come up with for now. "I'll try to find out. And let's tell Simon we need to be working on this."
"I'll let him know."
ΩΩΩΩΩ
Simon was busy lifting weights, happily working up a sweat and watching the muscles in his arms ripple and bulge, when he noticed a redheaded teen nearby talking about having sex with his girlfriend Allison over the summer, his and her first. As the boy eagerly described what had happened and how sure he was that it would happen again over Thanksgiving Break in November, Simon realized he knew this boy, or knew of him.
It was Seth. It was Andy's older brother.
"Sounds like Allison's got some world-class pussy," Simon commented matter-of-factly, introducing himself to the conversation.
Glaring at the interruption, Seth turned to Simon. His eyes widened a little as he took in the powerfully-muscled frame, and he seemed to rethink what he might have planned to say next.
"Yeah?" Seth challenged. "Well, what would you know about it, dude?"
"I got laid this summer, too," Simon shrugged, doing his best to imitate the nonchalant manner and course language of the older boys. "I fucked a couple girls, no big deal, just future models. Sounds like you did, too, man."
Seth smiled, then quickly suppressed it, trying to act irritated still. "Yeah, well, my girl, she looks way better than any of yours, I promise. I only needed one."
"Where'd you fuck her? The first time?"
"Right out in the sun, on a deck chair," Seth said proudly. "I started out 'helping' her put on her suntan lotion and things just kind of… progressed."
"Progressed," the boy next to him laughed. "That's a good word. Where'd you look that up?"
"Man, how about you go read a book, you fuckin' dork?"
"I'll tell you what I'm gonna do," the boy said. "I'm gonna go take a shit. You guys have fun swapping lies while I'm gone."
"Lies," Seth scoffed. "I don't need to lie, man."
The minute the other boy was gone, Simon set down his dumbbells and looked at Seth. "I knew your brother."
That got his attention. Seth turned and stared, clearly surprised. "What? What are you talking about? My brother's dead, man."
"I know. He was on the island with me."
"Oh," Seth said slowly, "you're one of them. You were there. On that- that fucked up trip. All those fuckin' kids died out there, and Captain Benson, too."
"Yeah." Simon said.
"Well, whaddya want?" Seth demanded, his voice strained now. "I don't- I don't wanna talk about Andy."
"I just wanted to say he was a good guy," Simon replied. "I liked him before- you know, before what happened. He just didn't make it. I just want to say that he was a nice kid and we tried to keep everyone safe. It didn't work out the way we wanted."
"No, I guess not," Seth answered. He sighed. "Who're you, anyway?"
"Simon."
"Oh, Simon… I don't know who… I don't know you."
"I know."
Seth hesitated, looking away. "How did he die? Andy?"
"A lot happened at once," Simon answered. "Some of the guys ended up fighting, a big storm came in. We didn't see Andy after that. I think he was out there trying to find some friends of his." A lie, a complete lie, but Simon and the other leading survivors had agreed that certain things about the island deserved to stay buried. Some things just weren't worth telling.
Like Seth, for instance. It would do no good to tell him what a vicious monster his brother had become in the end. If only Andy had been helped, or persuaded, or somehow gotten to sooner, he would have gone home safe and reunited with his family. Seth wouldn't be dealing with the pain of losing a little brother.
"Andy was a nice guy like that," Seth nodded. "He didn't always know better, you know. I could see him doing that. He liked Tony, and I heard Tony drowned out there. Maybe he wanted to… you know, help somebody like he would've wanted to help Tony."
"That was probably it," Simon agreed. "I'm sorry we couldn't bring him back." He teared up a little, blinking furiously. "We- we tried. We wanted to help everybody. I wanted to bring Andy back."
"I know you did," Seth answered. "You- you were the big Chief out there, right? I heard you guys had a Chief who was this big hero or something."
"I didn't do it myself. I had Ralph and Pi- uh, Gabe, and them with me. We tried to help everybody."
"I guess you tried your best," Seth sighed. "Well, I guess it happens like that, you know… not everybody makes it out of stuff sometimes."
"I'm sorry about Andy. I'm really sorry."
"I know," Seth said. He choked up and did his best to hide it. When he couldn't compose himself fully, he headed for the locker room. "Thanks," he added tersely, nodding as he left.
Simon went back to his weights, lifting 100 pounds in each hand instead of 80, trying to lose himself in the joy of exercise. He wanted to fuck a woman, wanted to feel nothing but the ecstasy of sex, but the adrenaline of a good workout was something. He cried a little as he thought about Andy, but admitting his failure to Seth was better than keeping it inside. And he ended up so sweaty that none of the guys in the gym ever suspected he was crying. They all thought Simon was just one of them, just another guy lifting weights like a pro.
ΩΩΩΩΩ
It was Saturday, almost 3:15 in the afternoon. With her heart thudding in her chest, Arianna quickly looked out of her room and toward the living room, where she had told Simon to come in and wait today. She was going to try something with him, even if she wasn't totally sure of why. She wanted him to see something, a little shock to his system to get it across that he was beyond lucky to be dating a beauty like her.
The whole plan was based on getting Simon in here by himself, which she'd managed to do, since he always did what she said and always showed up on time. The next step was getting him to come up here while she 'happened' to have the door to her room open, while she 'happened' to be standing in her underwear.
After a full thirty minutes of pretending to try on one dress after another, Arianna heard footsteps.
"Arianna?" Simon called. "Is everything all right?"
This is it!
"Huh? What?" Arianna said.
"I said, are you all right?"
"Come closer; I can't hear you."
Footsteps in the hallway, coming closer, closer. Arianna made sure to continue studying herself in the mirror. Then Simon came into view in the doorway.
"Arianna, I s- uh-"
Simon stood there in the doorway, eyes wide. Arianna was wearing nothing but her favorite black bra and panties, and her slender beauty was not lost on Simon. Not at all. So predictable for a boy that he's speechless at the sight of me, Arianna thought, feeling quite pleased with herself.
But now it's time to act.
"I didn't say walk into my room!" Arianna hissed, shoving the door shut. "I'll be downstairs when I'm ready!"
"Yes, ma'am!" Simon blurted, and she heard him hurry downstairs.
ΩΩΩΩΩ
Arianna came downstairs about ten minutes later, and Simon instantly stood up, looking at her in that pair of short shorts, that pink t-shirt.
"I'm sorry, Miss Arianna," Simon said quickly. "I didn't mean- I didn't-"
"You boys are the same," Arianna said haughtily, looking down her nose at him. "You all want to be sweaty and stare at girls and play your sports."
"Um-"
"Well, I think I should get a good look, too," Arianna went on, ignoring him. "You can keep your underwear on until Mr. Travis gets here in an hour."
What?
"Uh- well- Miss- uh- you-"
"I want the same kind of look you just got to have," Arianna told him. "I'm a princess. I get to have what I want."
"But-"
"Simon, I told you what to do. Go. Or I won't be happy."
Mortified, confused, and a little excited despite his embarrassment, Simon dutifully unzipped his dress jacket and laid it aside on the couch, then pulled his white dress t-shirt over his head. He unbuckled and unzipped his dress pants and stepped out of his shoes, then pulled off the socks. Apart from a pair of gray boxers, Simon was naked. He stood there uncertainly, waiting for whatever happened next.
Arianna stepped closer, staring at Simon in awe. She circled around him once, twice. Then she was inches away, taking his hand, leading him to the couch.
"Lie down, Simon."
Simon did so, and Arianna promptly snuggled into the space left. When he carefully put his arms around her, Simon feared he'd get reprimanded again, but Arianna just sighed contentedly and laid her head down on the rock-hard muscle of his chest and right shoulder.
"You're nothing but a sweaty, muscle-head boy, Simon," Arianna told him.
"Yes, Arianna," Simon replied.
"I like you."
After a minute of carefully holding Arianna in his arms, Simon asked in his deepened teenager's voice, "What about our date?"
"Oh, I changed the plan," Arianna answered casually. "I sent Mr. Travis home early and Dad's working late again. This is it. My decision."
"All right," Simon agreed.
"You better keep working out, Simon," Arianna said. "All my boyfriends have to be handsome and muscular. You can't be a prince if you don't look amazing in your underwear."
"I do?" Simon asked.
"Maybe," Arianna replied.
"This is a fun date," Simon said, gently shifting his hands as they clasped over Arianna's smooth, taut belly.
Arianna turned her head, looking at his chest for a moment. She leaned up and kissed him, brushing one of his smooth-shaven cheeks with her left hand. Simon closed his eyes as their lips met, loving the soft feel of Arianna, the scent of whatever heavenly perfume she wore.
Then she broke away and nestled back into his arms again. Her ass rubbed deliciously against him, and clad merely in a pair of boxers Simon was all too vulnerable. He managed to control himself, though, even as she stayed that way, snuggled up close to him like that, driving him absolutely crazy.
"You're so much nicer than Jack was," Arianna said suddenly. "He looked like a prince but he didn't act like one. You look even better. And you act like one."
"Um… good," Simon replied, not trusting himself to say much else. He was harder than steel and just hoped she couldn't feel that somehow.
"I'll make a prince out of you," Arianna sighed contentedly. "Don't worry."
"I won't."
"Shh."
Simon didn't know how this had suddenly become their date for the day, but he didn't question it. Arianna was his girlfriend now, and that meant letting her make a lot of the calls. That was fine with Simon. Just fine. He'd go with whatever she wanted, especially if there would be more of this.
ΩΩΩΩΩ
Patterson led the way down the stairwell as the three boys crept out again, money in their pockets and sex on their minds. It was all a blur to him as they fled the school property, as Steve paid for their whores for the night, buying each of them more than an hour, and as he went upstairs with his girl from last time, listening to some of the disappointed girls still in the lobby enviously talking about "The Big Three".
Even as Patterson stripped and climbed into bed, it was all a blur. He couldn't think, could barely speak. Ever since he'd begun eating those berries, the urge to fuck had been overpowering and it only got worse if he put it off or ignored it. And only girls or women satisfied; Patterson had to mate, had to have the real thing. He fucked the beauty Steve had paid for until it felt like the jungle again, until sweat poured off him and his balls cried out for mercy.
Only then, as he pulled out yet again and flopped down on his back, only then did Patterson feel relaxed, happy, and human again. He needed more, though, had to have more, but he could rest for now, take a break. It was good to be here, he realized, a beauty on one shoulder, sweaty as hell, balls aching and his body satisfied again. It was very good indeed.
He talked about the girl of his dreams some more, and she listened and encouraged him, and he made love to her again. But when it was over, Patterson kept thinking about how lucky Simon was. The only thing he could do at this point would be to be a good friend to Simon, and be happy for him as Simon won the girl he was meant for.
ΩΩΩΩΩ
Mallory might have been getting paid for the time, but she would've gladly paid Steve for his. When he and his two friends, the other members of "the Big Three" as the girls had named them after their first visit, showed up in the parlor tonight, Mallory knew she was in for some fun.
It was funny; Steve was amazing, yet he acted odd sometimes, almost like a kid. He acted more like a boy just old enough to have sex than a kid in college. But he sure didn't fuck like one; Steve was experienced, casually confident in his ability in the bedroom, and he didn't disappoint tonight.
As they tried one position after the other, Mallory found Steve actually enjoyed it when she took the lead. He liked lying under her as much as on top, so Mallory decided to treat him- and herself- by straddling him, facing him, hands planted on his muscular chest.
"Having fun yet?" Mallory panted, humping him a little faster now.
"Almost," Steve gasped, setting his hands on her hips. "Oh, man. Tell me this is real."
"Oh, it is," Mallory sighed, pausing to lean down and kiss him. "I promise."
ΩΩΩΩΩ
Tracy was already naked when Ralph stepped into the room, that dark, burning look in his eyes. Her legs were planted apart, and as he undressed and approached her, she gestured to the handcuffs she had for each corner of the bed.
"I wanna be helpless," Tracy said seductively. "I want you to take me. I want you to do anything you want."
Ralph actually smiled.
"That's what I was gonna do to you anyway," Ralph said, climbing onto the bed. He roughly shoved himself into her and laid his bulk down, humping her furiously as she lay on the bed, exaggerating her moaning, urging him on. It was going to be a rough evening, but definitely a lot of fun. Tracy liked Ralph, liked his aggressive masculinity. And he was amazing in bed, so good the other girls were getting more jealous by the day. Getting to go upstairs with one of the Big Three, as the girls called them, was something they all wanted to do.
"Anything you want, Ralph," she urged him. "Anything."
"Anything," Ralph breathed back, sounding almost happy for once. "Anything I want."
A/N: 8-16-2020.
This chapter took a lot longer than it was supposed to, but regulating your sleep schedule can be difficult. That, and I lost the face mask I had, one of those things you put over your eyes. Light keeps me up and sunlight gives me headaches. Anyway. I got all that figured out, lucky me, and I went back to my writing today. Admittedly, Chapter 19 of this story was about 80% written weeks ago, I just stalled on the last couple of scenes and details. But here we are.
As usual, note that AM83220 sends me ideas and narrative summaries to work with on this story. So if you like any of my work on this chapter or the story overall, consider mentioning him in your review. Or better yet, go and take a look at his work. He has a LOT fewer stories written than I do, but they're quite good.
There'll be a few more chapters for this story before it's done, maybe 2-4 if I had to guess. I have the notes and summaries needed for the remainder of the story. My aim is to have it done by the end of 2020 at latest.
All feedback is welcome. Feel free to share any thoughts you have in a review and/or a PM.