Liquid Fire (9 page)

Another one of my students was dead in almost as many months.
It made me wonder if my obsession with Sam really was a good thing. I thought it was considering I had him pinned underneath me as of now. He’d been with Mandy almost every day since I’d told him that he had to keep a low profile. It worked well, covering me for the time being while I tried to work out my other issues.

From now on I would try to make amends, and now would be the perfect time to start. Sam was in his vulnerable state,
hooked under me, his dick going soft. I could feel his fresh cum inside me. But for some reason today it wasn’t enough. Regardless I rolled over beside him barely staying on the desks.

“I’m sorry
, Sam,” I whispered.

He turned and looked at me, a small frown on his face. “What for
, Alexis?”

“Turning you away when Bret found out that we were together was one of the worst things I could have done to you
. For a while I thought it was the right course of action, shoving you away, but Casey’s death made me realize it was the wrong thing to do. You spoke to him how many times after your argument?”

“Just the once,”
replied Sam.

“Exactly.
Now imagine had something like that happened to me and we never got to have the opportunities we’re having now?”

“Alexis, I have to ask you something,” he said rolling over to stare directly into my eyes. “I feel like I’ve been a play toy this whole time we’ve been happening. What’s going to stop us being together after graduation?”

I was stunned by the sudden question, and the magnitude of it. I seldom knew of an eighteen year old that was willing to leave their parents house.

“Are you sure you’d want to do this
, Sam?” I asked him.

“Of course!” he replied enthusiastically.

“Hmm, I don’t know. I’ll have to check with my landlord and find out if I can have another person in the flat,” I said teasing him.

“I can help pay for the rent!”

“I know you can,” I assured him. “I’ll think about it.”

Sam dressed and left my office without saying much else. I could
n’t think of what to say to him; I thought my actions were enough for comfort. Regardless, I still felt empty once he’d left. Was I beginning to get over Sam and wanting to move on to someone else? My thoughts were going haywire, yet the only person I could visualize as I pushed my fingers in deep was Sam.

Five minutes into it I realized my fingers wouldn’t cut it either, but I kept pushing trying to get something going. I was so determined and focused on my body; I didn’t even hear the door opening,
or the person coming inside until he gripped me.

At first I thought it was Sam returning until I opened my eyes. Bret stood over me, his hands on my sides, and I let out a scream.
His huge hand covered my mouth instantly, cutting off any cry for help that I tried to muster. I tried hitting him, but he just knocked my arm aside.

“You’ll fuck Sam, but you won’t fuck me. Why’s that?” he asked getting in close to my face.

I could see my face reflecting in his dark eyes that seemed to never end. My face held a sheer look of terror, and there was nothing I could do to get free of Bret’s iron grip.

One of my hands was still buried in my pussy I didn’t know which one, I’d lost some sensation in them, frozen in fear.
Bret had seen the movement I’d tried to make with my hand and gripped that arm tightly, looking down at my nakedness and wetness.

“So he wasn’t good enough for you? Maybe I will be,” he said pulling off his shirt.

Had my mouth been free I would have gasped. Underneath his clothes I knew Bret would look like he had been chiseled by a god, but not to this extent. Sam was great, but Bret was better, and better yet there was more of him. I’d almost forgotten he had me pinned with one of those massive, muscular, lick able arms.

“Struggling will get you nowhere
, whore,” he snarled as he unclipped his belt one handed. “You better not scream.” Bret’s pants fell down to the floor and I raised my head to see what was going on. I could see the huge shift in his underwear come visibly clear, as it was struggling to keep him in.

“Bret
, I won’t scream,” I muttered.

“Finger yourself; I want to make sure you’re occupied while I finish off here.”

Clearly his shoes were still on and he thought I would still struggle against him. No way in hell would that be happening now. My fingers had already begun their work again, and I was happy with the result. My body was reacting properly again with Bret in the room and he looked down at me, pleased with himself.

“Keep going
, whore, I’ll tell you when I want you.”

“Yes
, Bret,” I moaned.

He stood before me, fully naked now
, and I saw Bret was even bigger than Sam. He was also clean shaven, like the rest of him I went to grab him and pull him to me, but Bret backed away.

“I sai
d when I’m ready, you cock hungry slut.”

Bret grabbed his shaft in his left hand and bought it towards me. I opened my mouth and took it whole, letting it slide down my throat.
It was impossible not to gag. Bret pulled out of me, letting me breathe. I didn’t want to wait long; he was already doing more to me than what Sam had done. My body loved this violent and careless aggression.

Sam for the most part had been careful and not as controlling, unless he was playing. Bret was totally different. He controlled me totally, not letting me do anything unless he wanted to me to do it. My eyes were pleading with Bret, silently asking him to get out of my mouth. I had taken way too much of him.
Bret continued to pound into my mouth and tears covered my face. He didn’t seem to care.

“Open your
legs, whore,” he said.

I didn’t protest. My fingers were still doing their work as Bret lowered his head down between my legs and forced his tongue in.
It was warm, wet and rough. I went to take my fingers out, but Bret pushed them back in and raised his head briefly. “Faster,” he grunted.

I did as I was told, so he wouldn’t have a reason to control me further and for a time he was satisfied
utilizing his tongue in every way he could think of. It flicked in and out and side to side, in every direction, keeping me guessing.

“Get on your hands and knees like a dog,” Bret commanded pressing into me.

I could only groan as I rolled over and got up. Bret was behind me on his knees, rubbing the tip of his cock. My head arched upwards as he shoved into me. Sam could slide in nice and easily, but Bret was thicker and needed to force his way in. My eyes watered because of the pain. I barely fitted around him, and as soon as Bret moved forward I could feel him close to my spot.

Penetrating a woman from behind was the one sure way to get to her fastest
, and Bret knew his way around my body.

At the same time my hair was being pulled, tilting my head and upper chest backwards. I couldn’t believe what physical limits Bret was pushing me to
, and I was quickly a mess, especially after seeing Sam. Bret kept me facing away from him the whole time, pressing one of his meaty hands into the small of my back, just above my ass.

I could hear Bret tiring quickly; he hadn’t lasted anywhere near as long as Sam, but it was sure worth it. He pulled out and I rested for a few seconds before I felt the warm sticky liquid
just below Bret’s hand.

“Suck me dry,” he ordered.

I didn’t hesitate to grab his meat and suck when he bought it around in front of me. Even though I was exhausted I slumped myself down on the table and half heartedly did my job filling my mouth as well with his left overs.

Bret was dressed before I knew it
, and I looked at him disappointed. My clit was still throbbing insanely; I didn’t want to try and walk yet. Then I realized Bret hadn’t even kissed me once.

“Not going to kiss me goodbye?” I asked him.

Bret turned around and showed me the arrogant, cocky grin. “You’ll get one when you deserve it, little whore.” He didn’t say another word before he walked steadily out the door.

“This is getting ridiculous now Sam!” Parsons yelled slamming the huge file down on the table.

“You know I didn’t have anything to do with the murders
, Parsons. A dozen eye witnesses told you and your bulldog out there that I was sitting right opposite Casey. That bullet could have been meant for anyone, including me!” I yelled right back.

“I’m callin
g bullshit, Sam. You were the closet person to both of those that have been murdered. The blame can only naturally lie with you. We look like idiots with no leading suspects. Either you know something or you’re not the person we’re looking for. Was Kate cheating on you?”

I paused, thinking of my response to the question.
Parsons was blunt there was no doubt about it and he wanted me to answer upfront. That was the only way to deal with him.

“To be honest with you
, Parsons, I don’t know whether Kate was cheating on me or not. One thing I do know that it wasn’t with Casey. He tried to come onto me a few weeks before he died, but I wouldn’t have killed him over that. Casey was one of my best mates,” I protested.

“What about Bret Jones?” said
Parsons.

I paused again, this time for much longer. Kate had expressed a few times about having a threesome with Bret. Before me they had gone out for a few months, and I’d never thought about
it. Parsons took my silence as his answer.  “We’ll bring him in for questioning. You’re free to go, Sam.”

“If its Bret, I’m going to kill him,” I said storming out.

It was finale day, and the brisk spring wind was starting to pick up in the mid morning sunshine. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, even though the weather forecasters had predicted a storm for later in the day
; it couldn’t get much better than this. November had been an amazing month so far with graduation tomorrow, it could only get better. Alexis had made the preparations for me to move in with her next month and I’d been accepted into the university course I wanted.

Coach Graves was dishing out one final motivational speech before the game. Our finals run had been flawless, knocking off both Cooparoo and
Albany Creek.

There was a huge crowd gathered around the field, on the low hills
and it was a packed out grandstand. Supporters for both us and Mount Cotton were everywhere; most of them dressed in their respective teams colours, waving our flags. We couldn’t have asked for a tougher opponent, but our win over them just before the finals started was a huge confidence booster.

The umpire blew the whistle signaling for us to line up, and Coach Graves shouted at the team as we ran on for one last time. “Show the Eagles we didn’t fluke against them last time!”

Bret won the toss, and he opted to go against the breeze early on, hopefully so we’d have a good strong kick in the last quarter when we needed it the most. I ran with him to the forward line, marked closely by our defenders. The whistle rang out again across the field and it was game on; the big ruckmen making the first move.

I paced the back pocket of our fifty, giving me plenty of room to dart forward and snatch the ball away from any opposing hands. After a few minutes of back and forth action, the Sheridan found its
way through to the forward fifty of the Eagles. Their big man slotted it away cleanly for the first six. The game restarted and within a minute, the tables had turned. I saw the ball headed in my direction. It landed cleanly in my hands after a short ten meter dash forward. Turning, I saw the angle at which I had taken the mark.

It was rough there was no doubt about that, but the range was only thirty meters. A simple punt kick off my left boot was enough to even the scores.
The game continued on, it’s rapid pace building even faster as we approached quarter time. I was in the process of handballing off to Bret, who caught the ball and thumped it off his foot just as the whistle blew. The kick counted, but bounced off one of the inside posts, giving us a lead of seven.

Coach Graves was happy with our performance. He, along with the rest of us
, knew just how tough Mount Cotton were, and a seven point advantage over them at any stage in the game was to be celebrated. One of the mums handed around oranges for the team before the umpire ran his mouth once more to signal the start of the second quarter.

The intensity picked up right where it left off,
and Mount Cotton came back swinging to take the lead by ten points within the first ten minutes. Bret was starting to get angry and that’s when his kicking game started to go off, but today was different. The angrier he got, the better he kicked and applied pressure, forcing several turnovers in our fifty. By halftime we were up by fifteen and, that’s the way it stayed until the final five minutes of the match.

All of a sudden it was seventy three to sixty eight and not in our favor. With less than a minute on the clock, the ball found friendly hands again.
I waited with anticipation for it to hurdle towards me. McCoy drilled it from the halfway point to Bret who was just outside the fifty. It would be stupid to kick from that far and risk us losing.

Bret looked up from his mark, pausing for a couple of seconds, and found me waiting just outside the goal square well within his kicking distance. The chanting around the field grew louder with each ticking second
, and it erupted as the ball left Bret’s boot. It drove long, well over my head and bounced in the goal square once. My heart was pounding and time slowed right down. The ball bounced in the right spot, spiraling almost out of control.

It crossed the painted white line less than an inch from the post. A cheer erupted in my throat, and the umpire confirmed it, raising both of his index fingers at waist height. The park erupted even louder than I had, and the team swarmed towards Bret.

Each and every member of the Eagles sunk to their knees or shook their heads in disbelief. They had lost by a single point on the siren. Coach Graves ran onto the field, his grin was manic. I felt an overwhelming sense of jealously, directed straight at Bret.

It was his selfishness that could have cost us the match, but now he was being labeled the hero. He could have kicked it to me, a much easier kick and from there I would have taken the kick after the siren, which was more than legal. Either way I could only be happy since we’d won the premiership. I was riding on a high.

The celebrations at the park lasted well into the night, with a fireworks display that started just after dusk. The cracks and bangs coupled with their beautiful colours and the sounds of the young rock band the club had hired made the night feel amazing.

I’d seen Alexis a few times since we’d won, and I’d noticed her sitting in the grandstand, clad in her red and green Hawthorne supporters gear. We’d spoken briefly a number of times until I was either congratulated or she was approached by someone else. Alexis hadn’t made any mention of me going home with her tonight.

It was getting later in the night and more people were going home. Bret was talking with Alexis, his large golden medal we’d been presented with still hung around his neck, as was mine.
Alexis left soon after, and I watched Bret suspiciously. Sure as anything he left within two minutes, and I followed him discreetly to the car park.

There was a black Nissan 350Z waiting for him and I knew it to be Alexis’s car. He climbed in and they crawled out of the car park. I hurried to my Lancer and tailed them, maintaining a safe distance. Bret and Alexis both kn
ew my car; luckily, it looked black at night and their eyesight wasn’t like an owls.

My suspicions kept rising with each turn they took, weaving closer to where Alexis lived. Bret lived back past me in the opposite direction, so that was the only place where they could be headed.
The Nissan slipped underneath the building as I pulled up on the opposite side of the road, far away from any streetlights.

I glared through the glass for a minute before I saw them stumbling up the stairs, happy in each other’s arms. Alexis was giggling at something Bret had said as she opened the door, and he whacked her on the ass before they stepped inside.  I had to do something, but tonight wasn’t the right time for it. I should have hit Bret harder and a fair bit lower.