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    Rigby Taylor
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Jarek - 1. Zeno

Skinny-dipping with Raylene’s friends was not Zeno’s idea of a fun night out. He’d only agreed because he hoped if he felt her up in the water and fucked her afterwards her mates would stop spreading rumours he was queer.

The cars screeched to a halt at the boat ramp. Everyone piled out and headed for the beach until Bob’s girlfriend reckoned there’d be eels and leeches in the river, so she refused to go down. Then the others also chickened out, saying it was too dark, probably dangerous and a stupid idea.

‘Fuck you lot are wimps’, Raylene yelled, grabbing Zeno’s hand and dragging him down to the strip of sand. A half-moon provided enough light to see, and it was hot and humid so Zeno kicked off his sandals, dropped his shorts, jocks and shirt on a rock and ran into the water, calling to Raylene to follow.

The river was wide and deep at that point with little current, so he swam upstream a few metres then drifted back expecting to meet her in the water, but the beach was empty. She’d wimped out like the others; all talk and no action. Not too many brains either. He waded out in disgust and found himself in the spotlight of half a dozen powerful torches.

‘You’re a pathetic wanker, Zeno,’ Raylene’s sharp voice sneered. ‘Did you really think I’d want to be with a creep like you? Crawling up teachers’ arses to get top marks. You think you’re so bloody smart but you’re just a creepy faggot who reckons he’s too good for us—won’t even play footy with the boys!’ Her tirade was interrupted by a high-pitched giggle, ‘Bob, get your hands off my tits!’

Boozy laughter.

‘You’re a total reject, Zeno, even your name’s a fuckin’ disaster,’ one of the guys sneered.

Loud cheers and the clink of bottles.

‘Piss off back to the city, arsehole. We don’t want your sort here.’

Laughing drunkenly they ran back to the parked cars and drove off.

Zeno remained rooted to the spot, too stunned to react. As the noise of revving engines faded and vision returned it brought with it a sense of liberation. He wanted to be with them even less than they wanted to be with him. At least he hadn’t made a fool of himself by rushing around grabbing his clothes or covering his crotch. That would have been totally pathetic.

He took a deep breath, let it out in a loud sigh, turned, stretched, grinned up at the stars and jogged a hundred metres up stream where he swam for a bit, then drifted back to the beach and wandered across the sand to retrieve his clothes. The rock was still there but the clothes weren’t. He ran up to the car park. Only old food wrappers, a couple of discarded drink cans and a burnt out car wreck. He retraced his steps imagining he’d forgotten where he’d dropped his gear, but found nothing that could be used as clothing for the eight-kilometre walk home. The bastards had taken everything, even his sandals!

It was about nine o’clock, so as the only road home crossed the bridge in the centre of town he’d have to wait at least three hours for the streets to be quiet enough to risk it. A slow smile softened his face and he relaxed. It felt as if he’d been tense for months. Wound tight in a fruitless effort to be like the locals. Not appear too clever. Pretend he liked their music, jokes, films. He didn’t think he was too good for them, he knew he was and hadn’t been more sociable for fear of letting his guard down and being himself—too different to be acceptable in this shitty arsehole of a town. As for their pathetic football, he hated team sports. A rabid individualist, he wanted to be judged on his own merits, not on the success or otherwise of a group.

He laughed softly. He’d given it his best shot but it hadn’t worked, so his parents would have to let him go back to live with his grandmother next year. Lying back on a smooth rock he saw his future in the stars. A future devoid of the local cretins. ‘A small farming community,’ his mother had gushed when persuading him to make the move north so they could be near his father’s work as a mining engineer. ‘Fresh air and simple folk who appreciate the finer things in life. We’re going back to nature.’

Ha! Simple-minded and not remotely natural. The kids at his school were ignorant idiots who valued nothing except junk food, porn videos and sex with their unwholesome, loud and vulgar classmates. His mind was made up and his parents would have to accept that he was not going back to that school next year. Although he might enjoy one more week so he could pretend the walk home in his birthday suit had been fun, making their stupid joke fall flat.

A soft cough made him look into the shadows. Bloody Raylene must have come back! Probably felt sorry and brought his clothes. A pity; he’d been looking forward to the thrill of sneaking home naked. He ought to drag the bird-brained bitch into the water and drown her. Deciding to ignore her he turned his back and began walking down to the river when a cultivated voice called politely, ‘Zeno! May I come over?’

He knew that voice! Ms Nimffo! What the fuck was she doing there? And how did she know who he was in the dark?

‘Don’t be shy,’ she said in a singsong baby voice as if talking to an idiot.

That did it. One thing Zeno wasn’t was shy, so he wandered casually over and stood unnecessarily close, hands on hips, towering over his diminutive History teacher who, in the detail-obscuring moonlight, appeared a decade younger than her twenty-eight years.

‘I live a little way up the road,’ she explained, placing a tiny hand on Zeno’s arm as if worried she might frighten the wild young thing away. ‘Every evening I walk past here for exercise and fresh air. Tonight as I was returning I heard shouts, then saw all those flashlights. Imagining it was hooligans I remained hidden but saw and heard everything, then waited till they drove away leaving you stranded.

It didn’t occur to Zeno to wonder what she’d been doing since the cars took off, instead he smiled and said it didn’t worry him; he’d walk home.

‘How resourceful of you,’ Adele Nimffo said with not even a hint of scepticism. ‘Perhaps you’d accept a little nourishment before you set off? Coffee and a sandwich perhaps? And something with which to gird your loins? I can’t imagine you want to walk home like that.’

‘Wouldn’t worry me,’ he boasted. ‘There’s no need to look after me, I’m OK, honestly. Anyway, I thought single teachers weren’t allowed to invite pupils home?’

‘Teachers don’t usually find themselves on a deserted river bank in the moonlight with a naked and handsome young student,’ she said with a light laugh. ‘Come on.’ She hoisted a small pack onto her shoulder and led the way along the track to the main road, across it and down a short gravel track past a row of old fishermen’s huts set high on stumps in case of flooding. Over the years they’d been renovated and were now desirable properties. The hum of air conditioners and television soaps floated on the hot night air. Teacher and pupil seemed to be the only people abroad as he followed her along a path enclosed by dense shrubbery and up five steps to a small entrance hall where she kicked off her sandals, then led him through to a tiny sitting room with polished wooden floors, a full bookcase, two comfortable armchairs and a computer desk. No television set.

With no mention of his nudity, nor any offer of the means to cover himself, Adele Nimffo tossed her backpack onto a chair and disappeared through a doorway.

‘What would you like on your sandwiches?’ she asked as he followed her into a cramped but sparkling kitchen in which a restored antique gas oven at least as old as the house, occupied the extension that had once held an old wood burner. After placing every possible ingredient on the spotless bench and putting the espresso coffee maker on the gas she turned to face him. The space was so small they were almost touching. She was wearing only a halter bra and abbreviated shorts. Zeno could sense the warmth of her skin and the first twinges of an erection announced themselves.

‘I need freshening up, so while I’m showering you make yourself something to eat.’

Relieved that she hadn’t noticed his arousal, Zeno made a thick sandwich of ham, mayonnaise and tomatoes and had just turned off the coffee when there was a loud bang and a cry from the other side of the house. He raced towards the sound and pushed open the door. Ms Nimffo was on the bathroom floor jammed between the toilet and the shower, head at an odd angle, legs spread, her right hand scrabbling at the edge of the vanity unit in a vain effort to regain her feet.

‘Oh…’ she wailed. ‘My head.’

Zeno knelt and tried to move her but she seemed to be stuck. ‘I’m going to have to drag you out a little,’ he said.

‘Just do it!’ she snarled. ‘My neck feels as if it’s going to snap.’ Positioning himself between her splayed legs he took hold of an ankle in each hand and gently pulled, wondering why the sight of her cunt wasn’t more exciting. It looked like the magazine photos he’d seen, but with more hair. And her tits weren’t anything to write home about—lumps of fat with long nipples. A bit creepy really.

Having dragged her out from under, he straddled her and pulled her to her feet. On the way up she seemed to fold herself up and her mouth brushed his penis. He wondered if it was accidental and why it didn’t seem more exciting. She slumped, so he had to hold her against his chest like a bag of wheat. She put her arms around him and pressed herself against his groin. He began to harden.

‘My bedroom’s opposite,’ she whispered.

He carried her in, laid her none too gently on the bed and was about to cover her when she let out a loud cry.

‘I’ve got cramps! I need a massage! Quick!’ Before her unwilling student could withdraw, she grabbed his hand and thrust it between her legs, using his fingers like a dildo, thrusting them into her swelling vulva. Shocked, Zeno pulled his hand away. Ignoring him she rolled onto her side, reached into a drawer of the bedside cabinet and produced a foil packet that she ripped open with her teeth. Zeno, too stunned to react, remained standing in front of her as she rolled the condom onto his erection. It was so slickly done, so fast and professional his irritation dissolved into amazement, to be replaced by anger when with surprising strength she dragged him on top and drew her legs up to her chest. His response was a combination of fury and reflex. With all the force he could muster he rammed his manhood violently into the exposed swollen slit.

‘Slowly, slowly, stupid boy!’ Ms Nimffo snapped. ‘I don’t want you coming before I’m ready! Like this…in…out…in…out… Thus she gained the maximum personal satisfaction while Zeno avoided boredom by watching his leisurely thrusting in a large dressing table mirror beside the bed. After observing the play of light on his own muscles—buttocks clenching and relaxing, he raised his body a little so he could watch his shaft sliding in and out. It fell out.

‘Stupid boy! Put it back in!’ his instructress almost screamed ‘Stay in! Stay in! Deeper! Deeper!’

Curiosity replaced the urge to pull out and leave her unsatisfied. He’d heard tales of women screaming and writhing like wild cats as they orgasmed and he wondered what she’d be like—if she ever managed to have one. Tedium was rapidly overtaking curiosity by the time soft moans became grunts then whimpers and finally loud screams of delight. That was when Zeno thought he must have ejaculated—his penis was by then too insensitive to register anything except relief. He rolled the condom off and held it up. The bulb was filled and no leaks visible.

‘What’ll I do with this?’

‘Flush it!’ his hostess growled irritably; orgasm had clearly failed to improve her mood.

Desires satiated, Ms Nimffo dressed while Zeno ate his sandwich alone. Unsure whether to simply leave or wish the unpleasant woman good night, he was standing indecisively at the door when she bustled into the sitting room, opened her knapsack and tossed his clothes and sandals at him.

‘You’d better put these on.’

‘You’ve had them all along?’

‘Yes.’

‘So those guys didn’t leave me naked?’

‘No.’

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

‘You needed to be taught a lesson. Now get dressed and go. And if you mention what happened in this house to anyone I’ll make sure you’re expelled and fail your examinations.’

Zeno merely shook his head in disbelief and scarpered. There was no way he’d ever tell anyone he’d screwed that ugly bitch. A man has some pride!

As he jogged down the lane towards the main road a shadowy figure appeared and whispered, ‘Zeno.’

He stopped and peered into the gloom ‘Who the fuck are you?’

‘George, from your Maths class. I need to ask you something.’

Zeno grabbed the guy’s collar, dragged the skinny youth to the nearest street lamp and peered at the narrow, nervous face. ‘What the fuck are you doing here and what do you want?’

‘Sorry, sorry…don’t hit me! I shouldn’t have…sorry, forget it, I…’

‘I’m not going to hit you and stop being so nervous. What’s this about?’

‘Her!’

‘Ms Nimffo?’

‘Yeah. Has she…did you?…did she get you to screw her?’

‘What business is that of yours?’

‘None, it’s just that she did it to me and I hate her so much I hang round here waiting for a chance to…to…hell, I don’t know. All I know is I want to really, really hurt the bitch.’

‘Why?’

‘She picked me up one night when I was walking home and took me to her place. Reckoned she wanted to get to know her students better. She was making coffee when she suddenly fainted. I helped her to bed and then she got me to fuck her. At first I thought it was OK, but then she made me come over every second night for three weeks... threatened to have me expelled if I didn’t. Then for no obvious reason she told me the only thing in my favour was the size of my dick, so not to bother coming by any more. Then she threatened that if I told anyone she’d deny it and make sure I failed all my exams.’

Zeno laughed wildly. ‘George, mate, you’re obviously a much better lover than me—this was my first and last time screwing the unlovely Ms Nimffo. I’ve just been unceremoniously dumped too. I think it was because I yawned and fell out of her hole during the interminable pumping.’

George giggled. ‘The last bloke only lasted two days, so perhaps I’m not so bad after all.’

‘Have you been checking up on her?’

‘I stake out the place most nights to see if she brings someone home.’

‘Kinky.’

‘No. It’s not like that. I hate the scrawny sow. She’s stuffed up my mind. Don’t really know how I feel about sex any more. I want to find out who else she’s screwing.’

‘What for?’

George shrugged despondently. ‘Not sure. I guess I want to make her pay.’

‘I thought it was only women felt like that. You know, Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.’

‘You reckon I’m mad?’

‘Everyone needs a hobby. Who knows, you might see someone worth blackmailing.’ Zeno grinned to show he wasn’t serious.

‘It’s her I want to blackmail. Which brings me to the question, Why were you naked?’

Zeno explained.

‘The cunning sow! In the weeks I’ve been watching she’s had at least three other kids from school. You’re the first one I’ve dared talk to about it.’

‘Why me?’

‘You’re different somehow. You’re not like the locals and won’t be stuck in this place forever.’ His sigh was heartfelt. ‘I’ll probably never leave so I have to be careful what stories and rumours get around. What do you reckon? Can we get Nimffo? Make her life hell?’

The thought was tempting, but Zeno discovered he wasn’t particularly upset about it. He felt stupid. Exploited. But it hadn’t damaged his self-confidence. He certainly wasn’t going to lose any sleep over being used like a dildo. In fact it had been educative to discover that vaginal sex was the least interesting of all the methods he’d so far used to get his rocks off. Compared to his hand, pillow, blow-up doll and a previous girlfriend’s mouth, she didn’t rate. Nevertheless he understood it might have been traumatic to an insecure spindly specimen like George—notwithstanding his apparently huge dick. ‘I don’t know, George,’ he said making an effort to sound serious. ‘All she’s done is bore me witless for an hour. But I can see she’s really upset you. Is it because of your girlfriend?’

George looked down and scuffed his feet. ‘Yeah. I’ve been getting on really well with Sylvia. She’s giving out hints that she’s ready to screw. She’s a virgin. I was too till that slut in there raped me! Now...’ He fell silent.

‘She’s spoiled the excitement?’

‘Worse. I feel dirty! As if I’ve cheated on Sylvia. As if I’m not good enough for her now.’

Zeno pictured Sylvia and choked on his effort to stop laughing. The dumbest girl in class. Piggy little nose, lank, greasy red hair and shapeless legs. Perhaps it was her huge boobs George treasured. ‘It’s the opposite, George!’ he said with manly certitude. ‘Surely you know women appreciate a bit of experience in a man? You’re now a sexy stud and instead of stuffing up Sylvia’s first fuck through nervousness, as most guys do apparently, you’ll give her an experience she’ll appreciate forever.’

‘You reckon?’

‘Guarantee it. So, do you still want to get back at the witch?’

‘I want to stop her from raping other young guys and threatening them with expulsion and failure. Surely you can see she must be stopped?

‘Put like that, I agree. What say we sound out the other kids you’ve seen here, and then decide what to do?’

‘Yeah, that’ll be excellent. I knew you’d be the right person to ask. You live out on the Koeran Road, don’t you?’

‘Yeah.’

‘How’re you getting home?’

‘Jogging.’

‘Want a lift? I’ve got my motorbike around the corner.’

‘George, you’re a lifesaver. After an hour bonking that sex maniac I can barely walk and I feel filthy. Got time for a quick swim first?’

‘In the river?’

‘Yeah.’

‘No togs.’

‘Skinny dip.’

‘Naked?’

‘There’s no one else around.’

‘I’ve never swum naked in my life.’

‘Then you haven’t lived.’

Four minutes later they’d dropped their clothes on the rocks and were leaping into the water.

‘Hey! This is great. If I stand still with my legs apart the current caresses my cods. I’m getting a hard on.’

‘I told you it’s great.’

‘Better than great! I’m going to bring Sylvia here.’

They swam and waded a few hundred metres up river then drifted back on the lazy current.

‘Why have I never done this before?’

‘Because you were born and bred in the arse end of the universe.’

‘Is this place really so bad?’

‘The place is fine; the people are narrow-minded, racist, bigoted, fundie fuckwits.’

‘Yeah. I guess you’re right.’

They jumped up and down to shake off excess water.

‘Fuck! You really have got a horse cock!’

George looked down in consternation. ‘Is it too big?’

‘I’m jealous. But honestly, you’ll have to massage Sylvia’s cunt till she relaxes enough to take it. Even then you’ll have to go in really slowly. I’ve read about these things.’

‘You’re joking.’

‘I’m serious, mate. For goodness sake don’t just shove it in, you’ll split her in two.’

‘Shit it’s lucky I met you. I don’t think I’d have thought of that. Ms Nimffo just took it straight in and I imagined all girls would be like that.’

‘That’s because Nimffo’s a whore. Virgins are nervous, and unless they’re properly worked up their twats are tight and dry and easily hurt, especially by something as huge as yours! It’s bigger than Sebastian’s.’

‘Who’s Sebastian?’

‘A friend of my grandmother. He’s a farmer and I spend most of my holidays at his place.’

‘How do you know he’s…you know…?

‘Got a fat long dong? Because we never wear clothes on the farm. They reckon it’s unhealthy.’

‘They?’

‘Him and Grandma.’

‘Is she naked too?’

‘Yeah, and a scrawnier bit of flesh you’re not likely to find. As tough as boots. I love her more than my parents and I’m going to live with her next year. Fuck this place and school.’

‘Shit, you’re lucky. I wish I’d got to know you before.’

‘Well, why didn’t you come up and talk to me? I was the lonely new guy who was made to feel as if I was diseased, totally stupid, unloved and on an unfriendly planet. I couldn’t just barge in and demand to be someone’s mate.’

‘I wanted to, but I felt too shy and inadequate. You’re smart and a loner and recently you’ve been sort of hanging out with those up-themselves wealthy wankers. I thought you and Raylene were on together.’

‘Well, we aren’t, and I’m definitely not one of them! Now where’s that motorbike?’

Copyright © 2018 Rigby Taylor; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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