High School Scandals

CHAPTER ELEVEN

The kids hadn’t been gone an hour, when Dallas awoke groggily to a heavy banging on his front door. The buzzer sounded loudly, and somebody beat on the door again.

“What the hell,” he mumbled, and stopped to throw on his beat up terrycloth robe before going to the front of the house.

When he opened the door, he saw cops; they weren’t in uniform, but they were definitely cops. Both of them had the weathered look of old gunny sergeants, and about the same kind of softness.

“Dallas Bradburn?”

“Yeah; what do you want?” He rubbed at his eyes and winced. He’d forgotten the cut over his left eye and the bruise under the right one.

The taller man extended a piece of paper. “We have a warrant for your arrest.”

Dallas frowned. “What? On what charge?”

“Aggravated assault, doing great bodily harm. We’ll come in while you get dressed.”

He stood a while longer in the doorway, trying to digest it all. “Am I going to be booked?”

The shorter man moved toward him, making him back into the living room. “Don’t make any trouble mister.”

Dallas asked, “May I make a call from here, or do I have to wait?”

The tall guy said, “We’re not in that much hurry. If you can reach a lawyer on Saturday, go ahead.”

“Thanks,” Dallas said, and picked up the phone. In a few seconds he said, “So!?

Dallas, man. I’m being arrested here in my own house. Assault, they say. Fine, man; I really appreciate it. See you there.”

The short cop was sitting on the arm of the overstuffed chair, surfing the air for the scent of grass, his sharp eyes darting everywhere. “So! Solomon Shapiro. That figures; you’re both long hairs.”

“Is that a charge too?” Dallas asked.

“Don’t get smartass,” the cop said. “I don’t like a smartass hippie.”

The tall man said, “Ease off, Jim; let the guy get dressed.”

“Don’t forget your fucking beads,” the short cop said.

True to his word on the phone, Sol Shapiro met them at the station, and ten minutes later, had bail set and posted. The short cop stared them out of the station and onto the street.

“What the hell you been up to?” the lawyer wanted to know.

Dallas felt his banged-up eye. “You want a beer? I’ll buy a couple over at the spa. It’s cooler there, and I can tell you all about how I assaulted these four big muscle guys who were only trying to get away from me on the beach!”

“That’s interesting,” Shapiro said. “It might even believable.”

In the dimly lighted tavern the lawyer sighed, leaned back and wiped foam off his beard. “That’s cute,” he said. “Dallas if that’s not really cute. This Collins is beating you to the punch man. And I’ll figure that’s smart enough to have the warrant sworn out by only one guy; the other three are going to be witnesses. But basically, I think he meant you to sit out the weekend in jail.

If I wasn’t a pal of Judge Erdrich, you wouldn’t have gotten sprung until Monday, bail or no bail.”

Dallas sipped beer. “And who knows? There might be a couple of big guys waiting for me on the inside.”

Nodding, Shapiro said, “You’re right. But your curly locks are worth it, I gather?”

“You gather, Mend.”

The lawyer thumb nailed his flowing moustache. “Then I’d better check out these four guys; all the way I mean. If they all turn out to be bonafide employees of the same detective agency, it will be somewhat of a help.”

Dallas grinned, and stopped because his lip hurt. “Maybe they were that dumb; I hope so. If they can make this assault charge stick, I’m out of a job.”

“And I’m out a fee,” Shapiro said. “You going to buy another round?”

When Dallas got home, he was glad he hadn’t been driving He was feeling no pain, other than the gripe of being hassled and the assorted lumps and cuts he’d picked up on the beach.

There was no note for him, but then the kids couldn’t have known what happened, not yet. He made a couple of sandwiches and tapered off on cold milk. Then he took another shower and hit the sack, checking once again to see that all the bugs were in place and connected. Setting the timer on his bedside radio, he drifted off to sleep, waking once when the music clicked off, and again sometime before dawn.

Sunday. He went through the early morning routine, and while he was making a bowl of ten-grain cereal, heard the news item on the radio. He was a celebrity, an infamous attacker of innocent men, a wild eyed radical, all “alleged,” of course. Monday was going to be a lot of fun, facing the principal again, if not the assembled school board in special meeting.

The phone rang. “You fucking commie; get outa’ town.”

The phone rang. “Hey, why don’t you go join a commune and leave decent people alone?”

The phone: “Dirty goddamned hippie; get outa’ town.”

Ring, ring: “Dallas Bradburn-I asked you to be sensible. Now see what you ye gotten yourself into, you and that violent temper.”

“Selena,” he said, “You didn’t even ask if I did it.”

When the phone rang again, he almost didn’t answer it, but thought that the guys monitoring his line expected it. He lifted the receiver. The guy said, “We’re with you, Mr. Bradburn. I mean, really with you; today, even.”

He said, “Thanks, friend. I know what you mean.”

And he knew where, which was a lot more important. The young voice had put emphasis in the right places. The communal pad would be a good place to get away from the harassing calls. As Dallas finished eating, the phone kept insisting for attention, but he ignored it.

Getting dressed, he wondered if all the callers were legitimate, or if Collins had a staff of bastard hired to grind him down. The big red-necked son of a bitch was going all out, that was for certain. He left the phone ringing and walked outside. There were no other cars in sight at the moment, but he didn’t doubt that private fuzz were lurking somewhere close.

Five blocks from home, a red light flashed in the VW’s rear window, and Dallas automatically pulled to the curb. It was driver’s license, registration and get out of the car, in that order.

“Put your hands on the car; spread your feet and move them back. You heard me jack. Right now!

They shook him down carefully, and one of them stood over him while another went through the car, taking a lot of time and trouble. The cop sounded disappointed when he said, “Clean.”

“You can go jack,” the other one said, dropping Dallas’s license and registration on the front seat.

“Thank you,” Dallas said, and they stared cold eyed at him for a long, tight moment before climbing back into the prowl car and roaring off.

Damn, he thought, the roust was on in earnest. If he so much as spit on the sidewalk, he could plan on being busted for it. They had been after any sign of grass, no matter how small. Since he wore long hair, it stood to reason that he also did pot, by their thought processes. But they had found nothing this time.

Next time, some cop not too choosy might plant some seeds, or as much as a bag.

It wouldn’t he all that tough to bust him, if enough of the police really wanted to. About all he could hope for was that a goodly percentage of the force was reasonably honest, and would leave him alone. Maybe some of them wouldn’t sit still for a raw frame, Dallas hoped to hell that was the case.

Carefully, watching his mirror, he drove across town and out to the beach road, turning swiftly when no other car was in sight behind him and moving back toward town. He pulled a couple of more tricks designed to shake any tail he might have acquired, and passed the woodsy turnoff twice before suddenly whipping into it. Even then, he parked for ten minutes beneath the spreading branches of an oak tree, waiting to see if anyone turned in behind him. When no car showed, or no too-casual stroller appeared, he drove a short way, turned the VW in a wide spot, and headed it back out for the main road. Then he walked in.

The back door eased soundlessly back when he put his hand out to it, so he ducked inside and stood in the house quietly, adjusting his eyes to the semi-dark.

They whispered around him, girl voices and boy voices. Hands led him into the living room, that small and remembered room where they had shown him his first orgy. The girls were all there, the four he knew so well-Susan and Blythe, Kathy and Angel. The regular boys were along, too-Joey and Marty and Eric.

Kathy said, “We heard about the bust. Did they keep you long?”

“Yeah,” Joey wanted to know, “and did they beat on you man?”

Dallas told them how it had been, giving them a quick and concise rundown on the hassle, too. He warned them not to bring anything to school, and asked if they’d set up a warning system among the kids to let him know when strangers were hanging around the school.

He sank back on the couch and stretched his legs Little Kathy sat down beside him, her hip pushing his; she put one arm around his neck. “I’m sorry, Dallas.

About my father, I mean… I wish he wasn’t such a bastard, but I don’t know what I can do about him.”

“You’re not your old man, Kathy,” lanky Marty Brooke said.

She touched Dallas’s cheek. “Poor guy, they’re really giving you a bad time.

We’ll do whatever we can about it, tomorrow. But right now, we’ll have us a little party, to take your mind off everything.”

“I had an idea it would be something like that,” he said. “But I didn’t see any more cars parked out back.”

Joey laughed. “We all came in one, to confuse the man. And It’s parked like a mile from here, just incase.”

Kathy leaned forward and kissed him, dipping her hot, sliding tongue in and out of his mouth. Then she jumped up and shucked out of her jeans and shirt. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath, no bra and no panties, and the sight of her finely textured, flawless skin was a gift to Dallas. He never tired of the sight of her small, naked body.

His eyes were growing accustomed to the dim lighting, and he saw Joey flick on a radio for cover sound. The boy said, “Every once in awhile, one of us will make a round, check outside to see if anything is happening. Just relax man.

We’ll give ‘em the shits tomorrow, but this afternoon, just hang loose.”

The other girls were getting undressed, too. Beautiful black Angel, her high fits standing proudly, their dark raisin nipples erectile and thrusting; silvery blonde Blythe Jackson, taller than the other girls, her hair glowing, her body very pale and syoimetrical; dainty Susan Lee of the golden akin and the almond eyes, with rounder, heavier tits and the little sprig of pubic hair; and of course, scarlet Kathy, sweetly Impish, bouncy as any garden sprite, ready to fuck at the mere mention of the word.

She was the leader today, and grinned at him as she had the girls pirouette for him, posing and posturing, shoving their lovely bare asses out, jiggling the artistry of their young tits. Kathy said, “We’ll give you a real ride, teacher-baby. All of us will line up, and you just keep going until you come in somebody.”

“Hey,” Susan Lee said, “that’s not fair. I mean, he might get hung up and stay with one of us too long. How about making it a rule that Mr. Bradburn can only take three strokes at a time? That way, he can move on to the next pussy quicker, and we can build him up to a real orgasm.”

“Good idea,” Blythe laughed. “Something like the time we ganged up on Eric and held him down.”

Kathy giggled with Angel, and the black girl said, “Yeah, poor Eric thought we weren’t ever going to let him come. Every time he started to wiggle, whoever was riding his cock just jumped off, and let him cool down all over again.”

Eric said, “It wasn’t all that damned funny. Suppose that big load I built up had backfired?”

“Then,” Angel laughed, you’d have blown your ass off.”

Goosing each other, pinching and slapping playfully, the girls arranged themselves on the floor, holding hands, their legs veed wide and their feet touching. It was a beautiful sight for Dallas, and the other guys were interested too. They were all naked now, all the boys and girls, and a tension was building in the room, despite the facade of casualness and the joking.

Four small flower faces turned toward Dallas, and four gorgeous little emits glistened up at him, beckoned the probing of his stiff prick. He moved to the first girl, to Kathy rolling her trim hips and tilting the treasure of her pussy for him.

“Look at those four fine cunts,” Marty Brooke sighed. “All of them just snapping.”

Dallas didn’t feel awkward as he knelt between Kathy’s spread legs; he felt honored and blessed and lucky as hell. Stroking her flesh, running his hands softly over Kathy’s belly and her mound, he reached back up for the charm of her small, round tits and fingered the nipples there.

Cock in hand, he eased forward and set the head of it into the waiting, already damp hairs of the girl’s lovely pussy, feeling the curls of her red pubic hairs and the deep throbbing of her fight vagina as it ached for his meat.

“Put it in me darling,” she panted. “Shove that beautiful prick all the way home, so I can feel your balls against my ass. Bury the meat in my pussy, lover; stick it deep, deep.”

He obeyed her, sliding the knob into the fight grasp of her lubricated emit, pushing it into the elastic clenching of her labia, reaching all the way up into that narrow little box until he touched bottom. With his swollen cockhead in the cup of Kathy’s womb, Dallas hesitated for awhile, until her delighted squirming reminded him of the rules of the game.

“One,” he breathed raggedly “and two-” pushing his hard cock back into the slippery depths of her vibrant snatch. She hunched hard against him, lifting her pelvis to grind it into his crotch.

“T-three!” he grunted, and pulled out his prick hastily, before the muscles of her educated emit milked him down.

Susan Lee was next, her ripe but small body palpitating with eagerness. He leaned to kiss the nipples of her tits as he worked in the head of his cock. He couldn’t shove in the knob without feeling that he was putting it to a kid ten or eleven years old; that lack of hair made him feel that way; but the smooth richness of her pussy turned him on nevertheless.

Into her honeyed slit he went, slipping his prick deep as she bucked up at his belly, digging her heels into the worn carpet and spreading her knees. “Oh, teach! Teach, baby-you have a terrific cock, man-oh yes, yes. It goes all the way-nice and long, and sooo hard!”

“Fuck her man,” one of the other guys grunted. “She’s burning up.”

From both sides of him as he drew back his cock, bringing it out of the suctioning pussy almost to its flared head, Dallas heard the voices chant softly in unison: “Two!”

He fed it into Susan Lee, stuffed his stiff rod all the way to the cervix, sliding the way that the Oriental girl writhed on his shaft as it impaled her, digging the way she clenched the cheeks of her silken ass.

“Three!” the chorus reminded him, and he snatched it back because Susan was trying to gobble it some more, trying to make him keep it inside her vagina.

Sitting back on his heels, he saw the gleaming head of his prick with the love oils on it, and swore that it was twice its usual size.

He had to hold tight awhile, because already he was afraid any more direct action would force him to pop off. Joey Nottingham grinned at him knowingly as lie let it cool, and Dallas wondered why he should be ready to come after only six strokes, dividing them between two different tight little cunts.

That was the answer he thought, the variety, the excitement of sliding his hard meat into the hungry pussy’s of two girls. And two more waited.

Taking a deep and steadying breath, Dallas climbed over and got balanced as he stared down into the silver haired cunt of Blythe Jackson. It looked somehow ancient, because of the strange color of its pubic hair, but its texture was youthful.

It was like preparing to stick his cock into a grandmother pussy, Dallas thought, yet like approaching a very young girl also.

His bulb trembled into the caress of those platinum hairs, and found the precious carnality of her cunt lips. Blythe’s vulva seemed to reach out with pouting labia to pull in his rod, and it penetrated deeply. She was hot inside, and steamy; her snatch was narrow and tight, almost virginal. He backed off for another long, slow thrust, and yet another.

Blythe fooled him by not fighting his withdrawal. She lay quiescent, only a faint rippling of her flesh betraying her high excitement. Dallas brought out his cock, glad for the cool air that laved it, and looked toward his next flick, Angel Matthews.

Black and wiggling, she lay here smiling brightly at him, her fine young body gleaming with eager sweat. She looked like a savage ready to spring at him, like a primitive ready to devour him. And her pussy was thickly bushed, heavily furred, its pink lips peeping from the forest of her pubic hair.

“Come on man,” she whispered urgently. “My cunt is jumping. Get it in me teach.

Put your fat cock in my jumping cunt baby. Make me know you’re fucking me long and strong.”

Her hands reached up at him, and he felt blindly for her blazing hole with the head of his cock as she twisted and swiveled. He slid off her box and along the crack of her ass, then recovered himself and got it steady for the pistoning effect that sent his shaft burrowing into her terrific body.

His second thrust met her as she bucked violently up, and she clung to his rod when he slipped her the third stroke. But she played the game, and only rotated her ass hungrily when he took his meat out of her inch by ultra-sensitive inch.

Closing his eyes and clenching his teeth, Dallas made it through the prescribed number of lunges In Kathy Collins’ active pussy, and by concentrating frantically upon the multiplication tables, he got by Susan Lee, even though she was flinging her rounded little ass around in crazy circles.

Blythe cheated a little when she lifted her long, slim legs to wrap them hotly around his body. He touched bottom in her shallow, quivering pussy also, and when he pulled it back after the third lingering push, the head of his prick was threatening to explode.

“Hurry baby!” Angel hissed, and wrapped her hotly wiggling body around him, a dark serpent striking at his crotch with the furry little cave between her polished thighs. She was avid and she was clawing him like some feral cat, raking his back and pounding his ass hard with her heels.

He got it buried into that whirl pooling pussy, got it shoved to the balls inside that juicy box, but not much more. She bit his throat and groaned, “Oh daddy! Oh wow-man, I’m coming, coming! Uh! Uh-uh-uh! Oh man-you’re tearing up my pussy. Oh, it’s so good, so GOOD.”

Then he went off. His cockhead vibrated like a plucked guitar string, and the semen came rushing through with a roar, a hissing stream of come that showered her clinging vagina with its boiling cream, with the sticky richness of a man’s inner core. His balls leaped against her flexing asshole, and Dallas wallowed in the grasp of her strong young legs.

Angel lifted her face, and her mouth was hot, sucking in his tongue and raking teeth across his. He could barely breathe, for she drank his wind as her pussy was gulping his semen. She moaned into his mouth, tasting of sweet wildfires, flavored by the spices of her honest carnality.

“Man, oh man,” Joey breathed in awe. “That was some fine fuck, you guys. I thought you were going to screw yourselves right on down through the floor.”

Dallas closed his eyes and smiled, melting in the girl’s sultry embrace.