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“It’s all for you, baby. Just take me now, Duke!”

Right when I’m about to pound the shit out of her, music starts playing in the background, and then a voice starts talking about traffic patterns and accidents on the freeway.

I’m now lying in my bed, alone, and slowly open my eyes. I say to myself, “Fucking sex dream again. Nice one, Duke”. I hate those. They always end just when the good part starts. I look over at my clock radio and see it’s six-thirty in the morning. Counting Stars by One Republic is now playing. Such a great band. I love their music. I need to see them in concert one of these days.

Lying in bed, I look up at the ceiling while thinking of Melanie—her soft, wavy golden hair, her emerald green eyes, her pearl colored skin, and her natural scent of coconut. Her lips are plump and moist with a hint of pink. I close my eyes and picture her on top of me again but this time she’s grinding me. Soft, purring moans escape from her lips as she closes her eyes and lets her body take over.

I look back at the clock; six-forty-five. I have enough time for this. I grab hold of my morning wood with my right band and begin to stroke. I picture my dream again and pick up right where it ended—her walls squeezing my dick, her breathing shallow and fast, her breasts brushing against my chest, and her hands grabbing my ass. She pushes my ass into her causing my cock to travel deeper inside. I imagine Melanie saying, “Duke, I’m almost there! I’m going to come soon!”

My strokes become faster and my hand grips my dick a little tighter. My breathing is intense, sweat dripping down my face, as I feel the climax building inside. I imagine Melanie coming underneath me as her walls pulsate around me, screaming my name. Fuck, I’m about to bust.

My orgasm takes over my body as waves and waves of pleasure shoot out of my dick and onto my boxers. “Ahhhhh! Fuck!” My eyes are clinched shut as I hold my breath. Damn, that was intense.

As my breathing staggers back to normalcy, I open my eyes and look down at the mess I’ve made. Yup, time to shower and head off to school.

“Duke, my man! How was your summer?” I turn around and see one of my lacrosse teammates, Rob, walking toward me. I stroll toward him and give him a quick hug.

“It was good, bro. Melanie and I finally got together. Took her long enough.” We both begin walking toward the school entrance and as I look up toward the building, I take a deep breath and am thankful that it’s my last year of high school.

Rob turns to me and says, “I got a job during the summer at McDonald’s. Flipping burgers sucks, dude,” and starts chuckling.

I bust out laughing and slap his back. “Hey, you wanted a car, but I don’t understand why. We live in New York City. There’s no need for a car.”

Rob shrugs his shoulders. “The girls like to travel outside of the city, bro. Sometimes the city gets boring after a while.”

I shake my head in response. “I could never get tired of this city.” As we walk toward our first class, I look down at my schedule. Alright, Forensics class first, Calculus, Senior English, and then American History. Not too bad. I should be done with school by one o’clock every day—just in time for lacrosse practice.

As I make my way toward room 104 for Forensics, I hear my name coming from behind and turn to see whose talking. Melanie is approaching with a few of her friends. “Hi, baby!! Are you in this class?” Damn, my girlfriend is hot. I get a good look at her. She’s wearing

her blonde hair in a high ponytail, a plaid skirt that’s about two inches above the knee, and a light pink blouse, that shows just enough cleavage. I love her look. She’s sexy, not slutty. Plus, she doesn’t wear a lot of makeup, which is another thing I love about her. She doesn’t need to try to so hard. I reach out to her and pull toward me, kissing her deeply on the lips as I hear her girlfriends say, “Awwwww, that’s so cute”.

I realize I better stop kissing her before any of the teachers catch us making out in the hallway. As I pull away from her and look into her green eyes, I see adoration in them.

“Yup, Rob and I have Forensics with Mr. Cerillo for the next hour. What’s your first period?” I glance at Rob and see him mackin’ on the girlfriends, telling them he is getting a car soon. Yeah, good luck with that, Rob.

“Well, I have American History first in room 201. What time is your last period over?”

I hear the first period bell ringing and see students scrambling through the halls, trying to get to class on time. There’s a guy, probably about a few inches shorter than me—I would say about five-eight—and he’s looking around the hallway while looking back at his schedule. Yeah, he’s a freshman and lost.

“My last period is over at one, and then I have practice, so I should be done by four. I’ll call you later, okay?

“Okay, babe. Good luck in class.” Melanie gives me a quick peck on the lips and skips off to class. I turn to Rob and glance at the lost freshman. “Rob, tell Mr. Cerillo I might be a little late. I’ve got to get this kid to class.”

Rob takes a look at the lost freshman. “Taking in a lost orphan? Ha-ha, yeah, I’ll tell him. Hurry up, though. You don’t want to make a bad impression on your first day.”

“Thanks, I should be just a few minutes.” I walk toward the freshman who’s clearly out of place. “You need help, bro?”

He looks up at me with such surprise. “Huh, oh yeah, I’m lost. Can you tell? Where is room 115?”

“Oh, that’s on the other side of the building, in the East Wing. Come on, I’ll walk you. What class is that?” We begin walking to the other side of the building. Damn, I’m going to be at least fifteen minutes late to class. Shit.

“It’s Freshman English with Miss Rodarte. Do you know her?”

“OH, Miss Rodarte, ha! All of the guys like her. She is pretty hot for a teacher, but don’t let that fool you. She’s a tough grader. And her essay assignments are a pain in the ass. Don’t wait ‘til the last minute.”

“Thanks for the heads up, I’ll keep that in mind. Damn, this school is huge.”

“Yup, about five thousand students, but you know this school is probably one of the smaller high schools. Kennedy had close to eight thousand.”

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