Hand on the boys room door, the big impact letters were warding her off like a hex. Hesitation at first, but Spinelli always had the courage to push through and enter the latchless and weighted door.
*THOK*
Here first. As always. Couldn't 'dirt clod for brains' show up early just once? Spinelli wasn't excited to be here either, but she knew to be punctual.
*THOK*
There was a drip in the sink that bothered Spinelli. She put the screws to it, worried that other people may have been coming here. Spinelli spotted herself approaching in the three mirrors, each angle offering her something about her she wanted to fix. She checked her eyes for any redness, revealing the undersides. Spinelli wasn't sure whether or not to pluck out more scruffy bits of her raven hair from under the beanie, or to stuff more of it inside like a pillowcase, the hum from the inconsistent light above now more pronounced.
The door.
If that wasn't-
With a swipe of his nose, Lawson sauntered in with that familiar lurch, embodying that fifth grader disregard for all things serious, except maybe when it came to her...
Maybe.
He gestured a finger up in a casual throw of his wrist and a tilt of his chin to the empty space beside her. "Hey. Where's Grundler?" Her face burned with embarrassment, suddenly feeling like she wasn't wanted. Gretchen wasn't even-
No. She couldn't think like that just because of STUPID Lawson...
Her friends were her friends. Always.
And Lawson wasn't a friend.
Before Spinelli's pouty expression could answer, Lawson continued. "What? The egghead didn't find ol' Lawson charming?" He leaned against the sink beside her, his shoulders jumping up as he spoke.
"Cram it, Lawson." He snerked. "Gretchen's as sick of you as much as I am."
He made a mocking booboo face. "Cwam it wawson, ahahaha."
Spinelli was miffed. "Don't babytalk me. Geeze." She rolled her eyes. "I thought we were past that."
A part of Lawson wanted to push it. Keep making fun of her, just to goad a response.
Another, wanted to sink his dick in something moist.
"Well why the heck are you here?" Spinelli's look of defiance quickly waned. Her shoulders slumped while her leather jacket stayed up a little higher. Her eyes looked down to the floor, then up to him with a knowing submission. Two fingers of his reached up, tapping the side of his forehead like he came up with somethin' genius. "Oh that's right, I can do something the dorks in your grade can't."
She absolutely refused to give him the verbal satisfaction. Spinelli instead took him by the orange wristband he wore, leading him into the first stall available, her biker boots clomping loudly; a bit more awkward than the handicap, but one they had often engaged in regardless.
The first step was always awkward. It wasn't like they LIKE-LIKED eachother.
Spinelli stood stout and firm, hands on her hips, while Lawson slouched, arms hanging loose.
He had to admit, one of the reasons he liked Gretch as much as he did was that they lined up pretty much perfect. While Spinelli wasn't exactly a midget, he did have to look down his nose at her -- which is something he'd still do even if she was his height.
Spinelli, without direction, sat back on the toilet. Pulling her knees in, she reached down to the sides of her ankles, unclasping the buckles and letting them fall with a recklessness, her fingers massaging her toes through her long striped orange and brown socks. Lawson just dropped trou, leaving his jeans and underoos bunched up around his ankles. Spinelli's eyeline shifted focus from her fallen pair on the tiled bathroom floor to the wicked pale boner he had on display that lifted up some of his shirt.
Spinelli stewed for a moment before standing up again.
With two hands, she hiked up her red dress.
Lawson's eyes came close to bugging out.
She had told him she had some, but he thought she was bluffin', and no matter how many times they got together, she never wore them. He figured she never showed him either out of embarrassment or was just plain lyin'.
A pair of pink panties, with white rings for where her legs would exit. The elastic hugged tight to her stomach, but nary an inch of belly fat pushed over the sides. It had a washed look, a paler color almost resembling red, with small uniform teal polka dots strewn throughout. Despite her pasta diet, she wasn't pudgy or nothin' -- though she wasn't as rail thin as Gretch, where he could see her ribs poking out. They seemed a little small, like a pair meant for Spinelli's younger sister -- if she had one. "Wait. Turn around a sec." She did so, modelling them with whitening knuckles on the brim of her dress and an eyeroll, trying to catch glimpses of him as he stared at her butt. Despite being snug and pulled up as far as she could take them, he could see the seam of her ass. "Holy heck Spinelli, you look awful cute in them undies o'yers."
Spinelli protested like only a contrarian could: By taking them off. "Alright, enough of the gawking." Hooking the sides with her thumbs they came down in one swift motion. Her tummy was taut, her outie belly button tiny and stretched, and as if staying true to the Ashley namesake, she stood askewed, arms folded, her slit teasingly visible, her hip bones protruding from below her young and thin waistline.
Lawson agreed with Spinelle about one thing: He was tired of the jawin'.
Spinelli hadn't even gotten her underwear off her foot when he grabbed her and put her up against the stall wall. "Wuah!"
His fingers formed a V, and he gave them an open eyed lick, staring down Spinelli as she got weak kneed in anticipation. He reached beneath her legs and smacked the sensitive area with a tap, resulting in a squishy wetness and a jump from her. Spinelli spread her legs out further, which allowed him to check out the hairless space, reshifting his focus to her cinnamon brown nethers which stuck further out from the rest of her body like little fangs until he fingered them and pressed on them. He glanced his thumb against the soft lip, revealing her inner glistening honeypot in a slight stretch before letting it fall back into place. The cinnamon wedge of meaty puffiness, that when spread, had a lighter shade on the inside, like coffee mixed with creamer.
He gave his cock a wriggle, lining himself up. He fed her his ropey dick for all he was worth, a strained look on his face. Spinelli went through her usual expressions, her mouth and face reacting into a shocked open mouth as he sank into her, pinning her to the stall wall. Spinelli hooked onto the scruff of the shirt on his shoulder. He could feel her clawed grip tightening it, her knuckles twisting back and forth against his skin. He wanted to tell her to 'knock it off', but he was too into the moment, wanting to nut inside her first and then worry about little details like that. As they pawed over one another, it almost became a full on scrap like their old days. Cheek to cheek, Lawson and Spinelli both had to almost cross their eyes just to be able to stand being this close to one another. He remembered when he still went for that cooties stuff, thinking back to when the very idea of being this close to a girls face would have sent him running.
"Wait Spinelli, I'm gonna fall. Hold onto me would ya?" It felt like the whole thing was gonna fall over, even with just her leaning on it. She got really worried when Lawson leveraged himself against it with his palms.
Picking her up by her noodley limbs which got a sudden and grumbly 'whoa' from her. He was reminded just how small the fourth grader was. Spinelli basically became his front side backpack, clinging to him from underneath his armpits.
Spinelli moistened her lips, rolling her tongue across them. Spinelli was frustrated, because she wanted to do more with them -- but unwanted kisses were reserved for family gatherings and distant relations. Heck, even just her mom and dad when they were excited about something she did.
Ugh, would it be so wrong to kiss the stupid idiot? Spinelli told herself that just out of convenience, her and Lawson should have been staring face to face anyway -- and now that she was, she still wasn't sure what it was about him. He wasn't cute. He wasn't 'hot' - whatever that means, but the Ashley's sure liked to call guys in magazines it. What was it about the stupid jerk? Her neck was cranked trying to get a more intimate view of their downstairs connection, but was unable to as Lawson invaded her whole headspace. Lawson 'urped' in a restrained belch, but tried his best to cover it - which he normally would never do. Spinelli almost reacted outloud by calling him 'gross', but held it inside, unsure why she cared about hurting his feelings. He knew it was gross, she didn't need to tell him.
"Spineeeelllliiii-" His voice was a low grunty groan like nothing he had ever sounded like before. Spinelli blinked her eyes open for a second just to see his face. With eyes shut, it seemed like he was lost in the moment with her.
Lawson got wordless and kinda scary, almost getting whiplash, as his banging got faster and harder, her head harder and harder. Spinelli let her neck go slack, eliciting a scratchy moan of her own, but refusing to say his name in the throes of what was happening. Lawson wanted to stop that whining. His hands were preoccupied with keeping himself upright, and the only thing he had left was his face -- but no way was he gonna be kissin' her! Especially with all the stuff he had her doin' with that mouth o' hers.
"EHHHR!" He nailed her down one last time with a fierceness that he often left reserved for the playground. Her toes twinkled then dipped sharply, making it look like the socks were a couple of knife edges, and the dangling piece of undergarment on her right foot finally slipped and fell to the dirty boys room floor. Spinelli's mind blanked in and out as she experienced his gushing load. She just held on as hard as she could, taking comfort of being in his chest.
After his final thrust, they cradled together, and if the stall was gonna come down, this would have been the perfect time.
As her shallow breaths left her, she remembered she had wanted to tell Lawson not to do it inside.
Oh well... maybe next time...
Lawson held her for a moment before slowly setting her down, her back sliding, her high angled legs drifting back to the floor. "Whew, alright." He pushed off with a dismissing air to his voice like she wasn't even there, his pud successfully pulled for the day.
Spinelli collapsed, thankful for her long socks which protected her knees as she landed. Lawson swiped his nose while looking down to his johnson and the conveniently placed Spinelli. He wiggled his worm at her face, sending flecks of his stuff onto her which she blinked through. "Hey, I need a clean off Spinelli, and make it snappy." The not-so subtle Lawson even clicked his fingers together to try and get her to hurry.
Spinelli stared down the barrel of Lawson's peashooter, slightly on edge. Spinelli picked up the juicy limp piece of meat with both hands, embracing it almost like it were a sandwich. She lunged for it, ingesting it. Attempting to swallow something that would never leave, like a forever food. Covered in the tanginess of her own juices and the downright putrid saltiness of Lawson's stuff, both of which she had gotten used to.
At least it hadn't been in Gretchen's butt.
Or her own.
Spinelli ran her tongue up both sides, then hoovered it in. She struggled a bit getting it fully in even it's currently defeated state. She didn't gag or cough, but there was a closing of her throat for a moment. "Ahl-" She swallowed confidently while adjusting for him, squinting up at Lawson with aggression while he knowingly sneered at her like he were her king. The crouched position almost had her knees and legs spread eagled. Moving a hand down from Lawson's sides, she covered her young pussy lips in a scooped curve, not wanting to make a mess for Hank the janitor when he'd have to do his usual mop up job, as she could feel Lawson's gunk begin to leak. The hot sensation in both her palms would have made her sweat if not for the cool of the bathroom. As she lewdly slathered the salty tip, she felt the dripping excess building like a big old loogie.
Spinelli left him with a satisfying and loud pop. She brushed her sticky, wad filled hand across her tongue before going lower this time, her tongue rolling underneath his smooth balls. It was the closest thing to a kiss between them as she made suckling 'mwahs', before they fell spitshined from her already overworked grade schooler mouth. Lawson huffed. "Ooooh... that's it... right there..." He adjusted his cap by the bill. He didn't even have to tell her this time. With his balls in her mouth, he watched his slowly erection spring to life, shadowing her face as she seemed ignorant while rinsing his nuts out. "Ah heck, Spinelli! It's up again!" He motioned with a chop to his groin, making it seem like it was her fault and that it was her job to deal with it.
Spinelli exhaled with disgust. "Hit the bricks, Lawson." Offended, she got up off her knees. Spinelli was already halfway done with putting back on her footwear while clomping out of their little lovenest, as her feet shot into her boots while aiming down at them, making sure they fit properly despite how sweaty her toes were.
Lawson waddled out after her, the tuft of his shirt tucked above his penis which bounced back and forth as he walked, the image comical to her as his pants dragged between his ankles. It nearly got a laugh out of her as she made her way to the triple sink setup, the water running fast.
The paper towel ejected with a pull before she tore it off as he appeared behind her. He grabbed her hips and began to sway with her, his pointer rubbing stiffly against her dress. "Aw come on, Spinster..." His voice was softer and nowhere as crass. Spinelli's lip cracked sly before she quickly wiped it off again, wondering if he might wimp out if he knew she was enjoying the hint of desperation in Lawson.
Spinelli made her answer not so clear, dropping the panties she had been wearing onto the empty space near the soap dispenser like she had just won capture the flag. She had been planning to clean up first before putting them back on.
Lawson forced his half grin off his face, just happy he was gonna be able to cum again.
Hands still on her hips, he forced her forward. There was a hint of resistance but she eventually let him fold her over. Spinelli did her best to try and not get the elbows of her leather jacket on any of the wet spots that seemed to always be here. He tugged up and propped the red dress further up her back with an insulting fling. Spinelli's young brown pussy had the greasy sheen of having just been used. It made Lawson stiffer seeing his white stuff slowly creeping, which made him even ignore her brown wrinkle that still looked as tight as ever.
He humped into her with a surprising amount of energy, which sent her forward on the unsteady and slick surface. Her cheek smooshed against the glass, a wet smear from her lip remaining along with some hot breath. Being face to face with herself gave her time to think. Even despite offering her best pouty lipped and annoyed expression, she kinda liked how they looked in the mirror, moving together slowly like that... but did it always have to be this... S-E-X stuff?
But... ugh, it was Lawson. There was nothing to like about the guy. They were NEVER going to hang out after school in the cheesebox and shoot the breeze about whatever like she did with the guys. This was probably the most intimate they'd ever get.
Moving his hands up from her hips, he cupped her chest. Rubbing the mostly flattened areas, he managed to find the nubs imprinting through her dress top and gave the surrounding soft flesh as much of a squeeze as he could, his nails meeting with rows of Spinelli's ribcage. Lawson was unsure if he wanted her chest bigger or not - but there was something that was big on Spinelli. Clenching her babyfat filled ass cheeks, he pulled her backwards, guiding Spinelli onto his shaft.
Spinelli tried to keep up her best meanmugging face up while staring back at herself in the mirror, adjusting accordingly as her features quickly fell into a snarl like she was about to sneeze, before the facade completely broke apart as he shunted her forward, and Lawson could see the hot exhale crawl up the glass as he delivered pump after after pump into her. He cracked her ass on both sides, getting a nice jiggle. "Lawson!" He did it again. "Ah-ha, Lawsoooon~" Spinelli mewled nicer than any tone she ever took with him before, which got a chuckle out of him.
Spinelli cringed into crying faces, but no tears were shed, as only hot and heavy excesses of breath left her, driven out of her by the hammering lower half of Lawson. Spinelli struggled, almost looking like she was about to make out with herself. She didn't know why, but staring into herself getting railed was kinda hot; that loopy look she had only getting worse as her hat felt like it was coming loose and she didn't have the wherewithal to fix it.
The bell!
"Uh, Lawson?"
She attempted to get up, but Lawson she railed her in response. "Aaah... I'm not done... not... doooooone..." His groan elongated. Spinelli braced herself, experiencing every inch of Lawson's cock as his spine curved over her while making an ugly face of relief. There was a nice sense of fullness that their first time just didn't deliver on, and now she had it.
Lawson let out a sigh like he just had an ice cold soda on a hot day. "That was reeaaaal fun Spinelli, but I gots to get." He adjusted his hat while stuffing his prick down his pants.
"Would you mind... helping me... clean up?" Spinelli asked like she were a lost child and he were the only adult around.
Lawson took offense. "What? No way." She then heard the door swing back and forth on it's hinges.
Spinelli let out a disappointed moan while picking herself up, snatching her underwear up as she was now back flatfooted from atop her perch, which jostled his semen through her system, and she could feel every little slip and slide it was making, all concentrated down there. His boil was still hot enough to make her nauseous. Spinelli reached between her legs, darting the tips of all her fingers between her messy and sensitive lips for a moment before pulling it back up to her nose. "Aaah! His stuff reeks!"
She washed her hands in a hurry and even with her boots on, getting the underwear back on was easy.
Bursting through the boys room door was a mistake. Even as she sucked in her gut tight, she could feel his essence leak into her underwear. Spinelli moved through the halls more and more timid with each step, redfaced, her lips going through mixes of pursing sour into pure blissful smiles, her thighs rubbing together, her knees bouncing off one another, as a damp, disgusting, sticky feeling was building between her legs.
Her paranoia grew further and further, constantly checking over her shoulder, her awkward double legged gait not helping matters.
Spinelli turned the knob of the door. Every inch she twisted growing louder in her mind's eye.
But the worst was yet to come.
The lone crack she made in the door seemed to make it worse, already her peers were peeking. She threw it ajar, stepping in. She was the last one to make it in and no buffer zone of other boys and girls to hide behind.
All eyes were on her -- but she did everything to mentally blur out her friends; from dipping her head down to the floor, and then over to the balding brown haired teacher at the front, who hacked up after ingesting some of his coffee. He spied into his mug for any impurities. "Harrummph. Okay kids... I'll need you to get out yesterday's homework and talk amongst yourselves while I check today's lesson plan..." He was half a thermos in and still didn't feel regular yet.
Spinelli nearly dove into her seat, before defensively bunching up her shoulders on both sides of herself; not wanting to address the elephants in the room. "Pssst... Spinelli. Check your-" Her eyes moved towards him on instinct from the way he abruptly stopped. He motioned downward. TJ was talking to her again. That was good to hear.
She lifted the lid to her desk, as he kept his nose in an open workbook to be inconspicuous.
Whoa! Senor Fusion #167! This baby only came out a couple years before she was born, and it wasn't exactly going for cheap on the playground. Spinelli imagined just what she could get out of Hustler Kid in exchange for it.
Spinelli set the lid back down as quietly as she could. "Hey Teej. I'm sorry about earlier." She shrugged in a whisper, looking unsure of how remorseful she should be.
TJ set his book down, a little less worried about being caught by the inattentive teacher who currently had his own nose in the newspaper - the black and white foldout obscuring him except for a couple of fingers - but TJ still kept it quiet and between them, wanting it to be personal. "Forget it. Things get messy out there, and I don't care about whose wrong and whose right. I'd rather have a friend."
She weakly smiled. "Me too."
Spinelli spread her legs, no longer as tense as before, and thankfully nobody was looking between her thighs, or they'd see the dark wet stain on the outside of her pink cotton panties, growing ever more soaked.
================================
"Yeah I-" TJ cut himself off, rubbernecking. His friends did likewise.
Something about their group dynamic felt... off, without Spinelli there, and it was hard to even make small talk when they were just waiting on her to come out of those double doors.
TJ looked back to the school through the chainlink fencing and past the bike racks. Wind whistled, blowing some leaves onto the property.
He had plans for them all to go to Kelso's after school for some nice tall frosties, really wanting to seal the deal. "You think she's still mad at me?" TJ asked openly with a crooked eye. The other boys then chipped in with their theories, talking over one another, nobody making sense.
Gretchen's nose crinkled, knowing what this was about... that sinking feeling like a pit in her stomach that kept devouring her. She had concocted some silly and cockamamie excuse for Spinelli, but sat on it instead. "I can assure you, she's not mad at you, TJ." She quickly strode with her thumbs underneath her backpacks straps, sternly facing forward.
Maybe if she hit the syrup hard enough, she'd expose everything to them.
The sun bled in through the windows.
School was out, the classroom empty.
Even flat on her stomach, her chin resting on a double layer of hands, her globes stood out. Her tan brown cheeks almost had an orange hue to them now. Her boots were still on, her panties around her ankles almost like a pair of cuffs -- both left that way in case they needed to make a quick clean up and getaway. Lawson also kept his pants on, going through the zipper this time.
Believe it or not, he was the one who balked at the idea of doing this -- thinking she was absolutely batspit crazy.
But Spinelli was insistent, even now as he tugged on the collar of his shirt. "Chee, I don't know Spinelle."
Looking over her shoulder with a slutty and alluring expression, her eyebrows angled. "Come on Lawson, don't be a wimp."
"Me? A wimp? Heck no. Nobody with the last name Lawson is a wimp."
"Then why don't you prove it?" She purred underneath her breath.
He squished and squeezed on them, unsure why they were begging to be played with. Maybe it was why he liked basketball; the tacticle sensation in her buns when she got all goosebumped up at his touch, but as soon as he stopped, Spinelli took the initiative with a full throated squeeze of them before she parted them, a ripple in the flesh before she stretched them out. Lawson's jaw dropped. From the splayed look of her pussy to that teasing wince from the interior of her bubblegum pink asshole. It was all he needed to see to climb aboard with her, sprawling out over her and laying atop her prone laid position, the desk surface unforgiving on his knees.
Lawson's pale member speared her open easily, her cunny juicy and loose from today's earlier escapades. His sharp and downward angled falls filled Spinelli in a way he hadn't before. Spinelli's fingers flexed out, nails nearly breaking off on the wood. Lawson wasn't a house of fire at first, but he picked up his pace soon after, thinking that going faster would mean it would be over sooner. Lawson kept ruining his own enjoyment which only made the session longer, stopping to check the door's window, trying to make out details of anything through the web mesh safety glass. Anybody could peak their head through, from Finster to that little dweeb Weems.
"Do me, Lawson." She rasped. "Do me harder or I'll pound ya!"
"I'm the one doin' the poundin, Spinelle." He reminded her of this fact with a resounding flurry of hip gyrations.
*FWAP* *PAP* *PLAP*
"Aaagh, if somebody catches us Spinelli..." He stopped to puff hotly against her neck. Spinelli cooed in response, nearly whistling through her teeth. "Yer gonna get it-yer gonna get it-yer really gonna getit." His repeating mantra of worthless threats that trailed off as he drilled into her. Spinelli's eyes rolled to the top of her head, her mouth open, her tongue hanging, sometimes licking and stabbing the air like Lawson's dong was in her face.
His chin jutted forward as he pancaked down on top of her, their fingers coming together intertwined as he erupted inside her.
Stacked together, staring out at the afternoon day, it could have been a romantic moment between the two. ""Ew."" Their voices responded in exact tandem once they realised what they were doing, overreacting to the handholding they were engaged in. Lawson pulled himself from her unceremoniously, a sticky web of a strand connecting them for a moment before it broke, the line retreating back into her pussy.
Spinelli ground her bare and hairless crotch against the desk then up into nothing, wishing Lawson had still been there.