Sorry to keep you guys waiting for so long, my mind was tied up with other things. I think this chapter's crap, but don't worry, the next one will get back on track with Chance and Sarah...oh yeah, mandatory message time! All character's are fictional...blah, blah, blah...the word copyright...blah, blah, blah...and I hope you enjoy!


Chapter Three

Chance stumbled out of the shower, putting a towel around his waist he quickly limped passed the already opened bathroom door. He stopped, startled as he was immediately greeted by his sister.
"Hey," she said, her face showing as much surprise as he felt, " to talk to you."
"Didn't mom tell you?" she asked curiously.
"I-" he stuttered, then remembered the conversation earlier, "Yeah, what was it?"
"Guess!" she smiled.
"You can fly."
"Nope! But close!" she laughed, "I'm going to school with you today!"
His voice caught in his throat, as well as his heart.
"It''s alright, right?" she asked when she saw his hesitation.
"Sarah!" Chance choked, "You don't want to go there! What-what about home school?"
"I decided to go back to public," she said stiffly, "Is there a problem with that?"
"Sarah. No, trust me, Sarah, you're making a mistake. How stupid are you?" he whispered furiously.
Looking him in the eyes, she shook her head slightly, "I can't believe you...I'm going whether you like it or not!" Her feet led her away, "Asshole!"
Chance stared at the white wall in front of him, his mind still trying to absorb what happened. She actually wants to fucking go? God! Why? She doesn't really know what happens to us over there, does she?...Shit!
"Chance! Ten minutes!" his mother called to him. With a chill, he realized he was standing in the hallway, soaking wet with only a towel covering him, "Shit," he cursed as he sprinted to his room to get dressed.

Rushing to a Mustang that had seen better days, he hopped in, slamming the door hard, it wouldn't stay close if he didn't. Sitting there in the passenger seat, arms crossed, looking out the window, Sarah sat, an angry static surrounding her. Ignoring her, Chance twisted the keys in the ignition putting the car into gear. The engine fired a sound like a gunshot. Chance slightly revved it, the car groaned under the stress, Come on, baby. Giving a moan of pain it spluttered to life. Glancing again at his sister, he turned on the heater full blast. The car pulled out of the driveway and sped to the high school.
As dead trees passed the windows, his sister spoke, "Chance...why is it you don't want me to go?"
He hesitated, "Sarah...I'm just worried for you...this isn't exactly the perfect fucking Harvard school for people with white skin."br /> "So it's not that you don't want your little sister at school with you?"
Is that why she's pissed? "No, Sarah! No! I'm glad that we'll be together more often now, but I'm just..." he faltered when he glanced at her and saw a large smile in return.
"Thanks, Chance," she said, hugging his neck tightly.
"For what?" he asked, incredulous.
She laughed softly in response.
He pulled on to a street in front of the school. The engine seemed to thank him as it puttered out to a stop, with a twist of his keys.
"Welcome to your first wonderful day at High School," his tone didn't match his words. She smiled indomitably at him.
Stepping out of the car, Sarah grasped the corner of the faded, slightly mottled, jean jacket he wore everyday, a near security blanket to her. She hadn't been around so many people at once by herself in a long time it occurred to him, and he wondered how she would re-adjust. Her face was stoic, betrayed only by her furrowed brows and her fingers, passing along the writing sown into the back of his jacket, Steamboat Springs Rodeo; he recognized the nervous habit she claimed to never have.
"It'll be alright," he reassured her.
"I know, I'm okay," she replied stubbornly.
"Then you can stop molesting my jacket," he chuckled.
"Wha-oh, whatever," she murmured, taking her hand away.
Smirking, he gave her a quick one-armed hug, "Come on. Let's get your schedule."

Mrs. Sanchez, the small wooden rectangle said on the desk.
"Miss," Chance began, "I'm here to get my sister, Sarah Emily Marie Richardson's schedule."
A stern looking woman he and his friends referred to simply as, "The Bitch," was in her late 50's. She looked up at him over her pearl-rimmed glasses, muddy brown eyes clearly annoyed, "I'm sure she can get her *own* schedule, Mr. Richardson."
He had been in and out of the office so frequently, they could have been on first-name bases, though she refused to do anything more than just notice him. Lips tightened, Chance led his sister in front of him.
"God tell me they haven't started breeding," The Bitch whispered under her breath. Sarah's mouth dropped open.
"Ignore her," Chance cautioned softly in her ear.
"What do you want?"
Sarah opened her mouth but closed it when a Mexican boy, Chance's age, shoved in front of her, "Hey, Miss."
The Bitch instantly warmed, "Why, good morning, Mafisto. What can I help you with?"
"I got another detention today, could you take care of it?"
"Of course," she smiled.
"Thanks! See you Miss!"
"Have a nice day, Mafisto."
The Bitch looked down and went back to writing. After a moment's hesitation, Sarah asked, "Mrs. Sanchez, could I please have my schedule?"
"Can you wait just one second!" she snapped, opening a drawer under her desk.
Sarah shared another look with Chance, Ignore her, he mouthed.
The Bitch slapped a piece of paper on the desk, slamming the drawer closed. Looking back on whatever work she was on, she didn't say another word, obviously waiting for them to leave.
Chance walked off, Sarah, following him. "What class do you have first?"
"Ummm..." she began, looking at the paper, "P.E. with Coach Mariatta."
"Good, me too, follow me."

They entered the class. Coach Mariatta was standing next to the cart of basketballs as usual. "Chance! No morning detention for you?" he grinned.
"Not today, Coach."
"And who's this?" he asked, extending his hand.
"Sarah," she smiled meekly.
"Nice to meet you Sarah, what grade are you in?"
"10th," she said simply.
"She's my sister, Coach; she's been home schooled for a while, and decided to go back to public." Chance told him.
"Really? Yeah, I guess I see the resemblance now that you mention it," turning to Sarah, "So are you ready for your arms and legs to feel like Jell-O, and limp out of here barely able to walk because of the horrible, searing pain?"
Mariatta chuckled, "Just kidding with" the coach looked at her brother inquiring.
"Sarah," Chance reminded him.
"...Sarah. I'm glad you're here," he finished, handing Chance a ball, "Alright, get dressed, and show her how to play."

"Chance!" a familiar, very fast talking voice yelled.
"Pete, hey, how was your weekend?" he answered.
"Same as usual. Go to some fucking loser house by some dirty ass loser lake with loser parents, go for some grand loser fishing and loser hunting, end up not catching or killing a fucking thing like a fucking loser, and generally feel like a damn loser for the rest of the whole fantastic fucking loser weekend," he blurted in two seconds flat.
"Sounds great."
"Yeah, it fucking was," Josh beamed, then noticing the small girl beside him, "Sarah! Hey! How the hell are you? Wait a minute, why you here? Parents finally kick you out?"
"She's decided to quit home school."
"Oooooo," Josh murmured, studying her in a way Chance didn't like, "Bad decision, bad, bad, bad fucking decision, but hey, I'm not going to complain. Want me to show you around?" Sarah blushed, noticing him not so subtly "noticing" her.
"That's why she has me," Chance said levelly.
"Hey, hey, hey, I get it. Wanna play some ball?"

* * * * *

Peter walked out of the gym with many more questions on his mind than answers. Sarah, coming here...why? It has to be Chance; she hangs on him like she'll die or something if she doesn't. `Course, when I came out of home school, I wanted to crawl up in the fetal position and suck my thumb-the blow hit him hard in the chest. Falling backwards, having nothing to catch his fall, he landed hard on his back, his breath rushing from his lungs.
Stumbling to his feet as fast as he could, he was pushed from behind, nearly falling again; he regained his balance, and looked for his attackers. Most of the people in the halls had all stopped, smirking at him. Something connected with the back of his head...a backpack. With a grunt, he stood again, turning quickly in all directions, looking for them, "Fucking cowards, where the fuck are you, you fucking dickless spicks!" His knee slammed painfully into the ground when a boot connected with the back of it, this time laughter followed.
Peter was expectant enough although, grabbing the foot before it could retract; he turned, yelling in rage. Driving his shoulder into the Mexican's gut, he ran until he connected the boy's back to the wall. A blow, a fist this time, met with his ribs, along with three more hits, each coming faster.
The boy he had pinned against the wall shoved Peter backwards, sending him toppling over his own feet. They continued to stomp on his arms, legs, neck, head, hands, anything they could get at. Peter drew himself into as much of a protective ball as he could, the laughter growing louder, hoping it would be over soon. The hazings usually didn't last long.
Suddenly, it stopped. Peter looked up just in time to see an animal of hate barrel into his attackers, lashing out furiously with arms, legs, and anything he could use...J-Wad.

* * * * *

Joshua ducked an awkward punch, grabbing the Mexican by his sweatshirt, he heaved him over backwards, guiding his fall to make sure the boy met the ground head first.
"Josh!" someone screamed. A hand collided with the back of his skull, as another one nearly doubled him over. Forgetting whoever yelled, he grabbed the arm of the closest, a hit on his bottom lip, his reward, he twisted it until he heard a grunt of pain. He noticed a familiar sour metallic taste. Blood filled his mouth. With a growl he pushed the pain away. No time for distractions.
In one motion, he lifted his knee, and pulled the Mexican's mid-section into it. Loudly audible, the air exploding out of his victim's mouth, he turned in time to see two more coming at him.
One grabbed him by his shirt, the other hitting him in the ribs. He fell, landing hard next to Peter, his breath exploded out of his lungs. The laughter reached a crescendo.
"What's going on here? Back away, back away, I said now!" a voice shrieked. The Bitch waddled in, slowly succeeding on pushing everyone back. Gasping for air, Peter and Josh lay next to each other in near identical positions, legs curled, and hands over their stomach.
"J-Wad...," Peter breathed, his lungs craving air, ""
"No..." Joshua whispered, smiling, stopping to take a fill of air, "no...problem little bro...anytime..."
They both laughed as well as they could at their helplessness; it was that, or cry.
"I should've known it was you two," The Bitch said, "Get up...I said get up!"
Both, suppressing moans, not wanting to give The Bitch the pleasure, they wearily, slowly stood, Josh, hunched slightly, Peter, favoring a leg.
"Miss, Wilcooks, stay away!" The Bitch demanded, trying to push Joy away.
"Are you two hurt?" she called over The Bitch's shoulder.
"No...we're bo...both...fucking great enough..." Peter began to respond, and then abandoned the effort to suck more air into his aching chest.
" fuck...fuck a meat...meat live to...tell the...tale," Joshua finished the long overdone inside joke between them.
"Why must you start fights?" The Bitch asked, expecting no answer she ranted on, "This is the eighth time in three weeks!"
"It was...hardly...a fight wi...with five against" Joshua said trying to regain his breath just as Peter whispered under his breath, "So...The Bitch ca...can count..."
Joy gasped, "No! Shut the hell up! Do you want to get in more trouble?"
"What did you say?" The Bitch asked him, fire in her eyes.
"He said...lay off us...and blame the on...ones... who actually for a change you...fucking bitch." Peter whispered his lungs still aching for oxygen.
"Get in the Principal's office," The Bitch screamed, "I hope you're finally expelled...both of you!"
Joshua and Peter both simultaneously raised their index, middle, and ring finger.
"Read...between...the lines."
"Read bet...between the...lines."
"Don't you dare use that finger with me!" The Bitch was red in the face now, "Get to the office! Now!"
"Josh, Petey..." Joy whispered, concern lining her beautiful face.
"Don't...worry'll be fine...see you la...later, sis," Joshua responded, licking his lips in a vain attempt to remove the blood that was already running down past his chin, Peter nodded in agreement. Leaning on one another for support, Peter's beaten body being more of the burden, they stumbled downstairs to Principal Orlando Trujillo's office, their five attackers laughing and jeering at them with the rest...always behind their backs, never having the courage to do anything face to face...

* * * * *

Joy saw Chance, and rushed to greet him.
"...who's next-" whatever words Chance was going to say, were forgotten in a soft kiss.
"Hey, Sarah!" Joy greeted happily after she broke the quick kiss, leaving her stricken boyfriend stuttering. "What are you doing here? Did you finally quit the home school thing?"
Sarah nodded stiffly in response. She never seems to like me, no matter how hard I try. I wonder why..."So how was first period for her?" she asked Chance.
Sarah answered for him, "Fine."
"That's great; ummm...what class do you have next?"
"Science with Mrs. Meyers," his sister responded.
"That's perfect, me too!" Joy exclaimed, straight, crimson hair falling in her face when she did a little bounce on her heels, "Her class is right up the stairs," she pointed, "We can go together!"
"Okay," was the simple response.
"You go ahead, Joy, I want to say a few more things to her before she goes," Chance smiled.
"No problem," Joy almost put her lips to his, but decided to grab his ticklish spot on his hip instead.
"Gaaahhh," Chance grabbed her, biting her ear, playfully.
"Let me go," she laughed kissing him hard, before she walked off.
Once she reached the top of the stairs, she saw people crowding around, laughing. Pushing her way through the throng, she came upon the scene of her two brothers, one laying on the ground, pummeled, the other about to get his head cracked. "Josh!" she tried to scream a warning. No good, he was hit hard, somehow he shook if off. But she knew he was outnumbered, he lasted three more seconds, a hundred years passing for each one.
"What's going on here? Back away, back away, I said now!" The Bitch charged in. Seeing her brothers on the ground, broken, helpless, defenseless, she tried to move past The Bitch and get to them as they pathetically tried to stand.
"Miss Wilcooks, stay away!" The Bitch demanded, trying to push her away.
"Are you two hurt?" she called over The Bitch's shoulder.
"No...we're bo...both...fucking great enough..." Peter began to respond, and then abandoned the effort to suck more air into his chest.
" fuck...fuck a meat...meat live to...tell the...tale," Josh finished for him. Fuck, how bad off are they? It better not be another broken bone...God, please no...not another one...
"Why must you start fights?" The Bitch asked in front of her, expecting no answer The Bitch ranted on, "This is the eighth time in two weeks!"
"It was...hardly...a fight wi...with five against" Josh said, regaining his breath.
Joy gasped, "No, shut the hell up, do you want to get in more trouble?" Damn it, they can never keep their fucking mouths least their okay, they wouldn't be trying to mess with The Bitch if they were really hurt...
"What did you say?" The Bitch asked him, fire in her eyes.
"He said...lay off us...and blame the on...ones... who actually for a change you...fucking bitch." Peter whispered.
"Get in the Principal's office," The Bitch screamed, "I hope you're finally expelled...both of you!"
Josh and Peter both simultaneously raised their index, middle, and ring finger.
"Read...between...the lines."
"Read bet...between the...lines."
"Don't you dare use that finger with me!" The Bitch was blood red in the face now, "Get to the office! Now!"
"Josh, Petey..." Joy whispered, Fuck you for making me least Josh is better off than last time...
"Don't...worry'll be fine...see you la...later, sis," Josh responded licking blood from his lips, Petey nodded in agreement. Joy was left standing alone in a mass of horrible laughter...

* * * * *

"So how was it?" Chance asked.
"I loved it, I'm so glad I've come back to public," Sarah responded.
"Good, I'm really glad. So, who's next-" What the-whatever words Chance was going to say, were forgotten in a soft kiss. Joy...God, I wish she'd stop surprising me like that, Chance thought, ...actually...on second thought, I wished she'd do it more...
"Hey, Sarah!" Joy greeted happily after she broke the quick kiss. "What are you doing here; did you finally quit the home school thing?"
Sarah nodded stiffly in response. Chance looked down at her smoldering eyes, transfixed on his girlfriend. I wish I knew why she hates her...she's never done anything bad to her...
"So how was first period for her?" Joy interrupted his thoughts. Chance hesitated a fraction of a second, his mind coming back to the world.
Sarah answered for him, "Fine."
"That's great; ummm...what class do you have next?"
"Science with Mrs. Meyers," his sister responded.
"That's perfect, me too!" Joy exclaimed, straight, crimson hair falling in her face when she did a little bounce on her heels, "Her class is right up the stairs," she pointed, "We can go together!"
"Okay," was the simple response. Damn it, say something, Sarah...
"You go ahead, Joy, I want to say a few more things to her before she goes," Chance smiled.
"No problem," Joy leaned in to him, before a devilish smile twisted her lips; she grabbed one of two ticklish spots on him.
"Gaaahhh," Chance grabbed her, bringing her close to him, pretending to playfully bite her ear, he whispered, "Keep her safe..."
"Let me go," she laughed. Kissing him hard, she breathed into his mouth, "Don't worry, I will," before she trotted up the stairs.
"Sarah, why don't you like her?" he did not need to make any reference to who "her" he was speaking of.
"Who?" came the dodge.
"You know who I mean. Why do you hate her?"
"I don't, I like her, she's right for you," Sarah said, finding something interesting about her shoes.
"She's right for you, I like her I said," his sister snapped, looking up at him.
Chance opened his mouth to respond but stopped when a loud commotion near the top of the stairs erupted. He saw people pushing to get near it. Damn it, I wonder which of us...those fucking bastards..."What's going on here? Back away, back away, I said now!"...shit...there's nothing I can do now...I can only hope none of us got hurt too badly...
"What's happening?" Sarah asked an underlying tone of fear in her otherwise steady voice.
..."Miss Wilcooks, stay away!"...
"Ignore it," Chance advised, least Joy's okay or The Bitch would be already sending her to the office, not telling her to get's Pete, isn't it? "Sarah...Sarah...damn it Sarah, look at me!"
Sarah, startled, turned to face her brother again, "What?"
"Are you sure you'll be alright by yourself?"
..."Get in the Principal's office! I hope you're finally expelled...both of you!"... looks like Jo or Tom was with him, David would have stopped least that means Pete wouldn't have been hurt too bad...
"Chance, I told you, I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself," Sarah smiled.
..."Don't you dare use that finger with me! Get to the office! Now!"...
"Okay...well, go on or you'll be late," Chance gave in.
" sounded like Dad when you said that," Sarah grinned.
"Just get the fuck out of here," Chance, frustration not at her, but at the situation tinged his voice.
"There's the Chance I know," Sarah laughed as she turned and walked away.
"Wait!" Chance called, Sarah turned inquiringly. Chance walked closer to her, taking off the jacket that never left him. The jacket had actually been his mother's. In the rodeo they had volunteered at in Steamboat Springs, it was used to identify the workers. The rodeo was running out of the coats that year, so his mother got stuck with a Men's Large. It never fit her so Chance decided to adopt it. It had mean a lot to him over the past years, he had gotten his first job wearing it, gotten into his first fight wearing it, broken his first bone wearing it, gotten his first girlfriend wearing it, received his first kiss wearing it. It was an ugly thing, faded, torn slightly, but it defined who he was and where he had been. And left him, "Here. Take this."
Sarah's eyes widened, "But Chance...this is...this is your jacket."
"Look, just take it, alright?" he handed it out to her.
She took it reluctantly, and slowly put it on, smiling adoringly up at him. It was too big for her, the sleeves drooped far past her hands, the shoulders were monstrous, and the worn collar hung like a scarf around her thin neck. Chance himself had just grown into it not too long ago, if it was just small enough for him, it swallowed her whole. Though it somehow just made her cuter he noticed.
She hugged him tightly, he felt as if he were just hugging his jacket with a rod in it. The side of her head still pressed against his chest, she whispered, "Thanks Chance, this really does mean a lot to me..."
"It's just a fucking jacket," he chuckled, trying to brush it off, though he knew she knew how much it meant to him. As soon as she was there, she was gone, saying bye to him over her shoulder.
He climbed the stairs to his next class, seeing both Jo and Pete being led by The Bitch into the office...

* * * * *

"Joshua, Peter, will you please tell me what this is about?" Principal Trujillo asked. The Principal was a Hispanic in his late 50's. He was intelligent, smiled a lot, and generally listened fairly to their side of the story. But one fault, Josh would never forgive, was his failure to stop the things that happened to him and his friends in the halls. He was too damn passive.
"It was just another one," Josh began, "They went after us from behind, we fought back."
"So they attacked both of you at once?"
"Well, not exactly..." Josh hesitated.
"I was about to be kicked to death, if J-Wad-Josh didn't come stop them, I might not be sitting here right now," Peter said defensively.
"But you didn't fight in self-defense, did you?" the Principal asked Josh.
"No," Josh said, and then added, "sir."
"And you, Peter," he turned towards him, "Why didn't you just try to get away?"
"Sir, I couldn't, they wouldn't let me!" Peter growled.
"I highly doubt that."
"There were five of them!" Josh yelled, anger overruling exhaustion.
"Don't use that tone of voice with me," the Principal patronized, "Well, I'm sending both of you to detention with Coach Mirguirk, after you visit the Nurse's office, for the rest of the day."
Josh would have remained angry but recognized that the Principal was just trying to protect them from whoever had done this. He still hated the man, although, the Principal was avoiding the problem, not solving it.

The Detention Room was small, windowless, and had nothing on the walls to break up the dull whiteness. Coach Mirguirk, a balding half-black, half-oriental middle aged man with a face that could break glass, was not threatening at first glance. But his sharp clear black eyes told people differently. Though not always able to watch his tongue, he was a man of strong character looking out for anyone who was bullied, no matter who they were. Joshua and his brother, Peter, laid across two tables, the only two "criminals"-as Coach Mirguirk referred to them-there.
Joshua opened up the third Dr. Pepper the coach had given him. It had been two hours and the cut had healed somewhat. But he still winced slightly as the can touched his raw lip. Peter was asleep in the table next to him, snoring slightly.
"You think the Broncos will make it to the Super Bowl, Coach?" Joshua had no real interest in sports, but was always willing to indulge the good coach, he owed him that much.
"No doubt in my mind. 5 and O, and with Elway with them, they're winning it this time, son. Again." Coach Mirguirk smiled at him.
"I don't know about that, the Eagles are doing pretty strong this year," he taunted.
The coach laughed, but whatever was on his mind was lost when the only door opened. Mrs. Hailey walked in.
Mrs. Hailey-Italian, slim, beautiful, ebon hair sliding past her shoulders-stood just below Joshua's eye level. With a not so modest bust to match, she was the crush and sex object of every guy's wet dream in the high school. Twenty-three, she was fresh out of college and had a fiery personality that he had become intoxicated with, for the past four years.
"Coach Mirguirk, I'm here to take one of your "criminals" out," she said, her slightly faded Brooklyn accent playing across her words.
"The stupid one or the scrawny one?" he grinned.
"The ugly one," she replied giving Joshua a sly wink.
He felt his blood rush to his ears, and his pants tighten with just that.

She led him into the empty art room. Locking the door behind her, she walked close to Joshua, and slapped him hard across the face.
"Jesus Christ, what the hell was that for?" he yelped, rubbing his cheek.
"You should have gotten more," she growled furiously, "I can't believe you. Charging into that fight!"
"I couldn't let my brother get killed, could I?" he retorted, anger surpassing his surprise.
She paced the room to her desk, "It doesn't matter! You promised me no more fights after that last one!"
He put a hand over a scar trailing down the middle of his back, unaware of what he was doing, "They expelled the kid."
"I don't care. What if they pulled a knife on you, except this time there was more than one?"
"I'd probably be dead," he laughed humorlessly.
"Damn it, Joshua! This isn't funny.
"I have seen you in fights. I have seen you hurt others. Most of all, I've seen you bashed and bruised and bleeding!"
"Damn it, Alisha-"
"No!" she viciously bit her words over him, "Last time I nearly saw you die! That knife pierced your kidney and nearly took your stomach! It took fifteen minutes for help to arrive! I watched you for fifteen minutes! I could only ask you time and time again to stay awake while I watched you lay in your own pool of blood! You spent the night in the emergency room, seven hours, seven hours in critical condition. What if it clipped or cut an artery?"
"That didn't happen-"
"You could have died! Died, Joshua...died," her last words came out as a whisper.
"Alisha, I could not have just stood there and let my brother be beaten like that," he spat, both of them refusing to look at each other, "Do you think that I wanted this? Wanted this life? Wanted this constant hate that surrounds us day in and day out? You promised me that you would convince the principal to do something about this."
"And I've tried, and am still trying even today! I-"
"My brother and my sister is who I have to look out for in this hell."
"You have to look out for yourself," she stated quietly, arms folded, her eyes searing into his, giving more effect than if she shouted.
"You promised me, Joshua," the heat in her eyes was intense, "You looked into my eyes and swore that the fight that nearly took your life would be your last. You promised!"
A tear slid down her cheek, "Do you know how much it hurts when I see you get thrashed out there?" she wiped it furiously away, "Do you know how much I hurt for every kick, for every punch, for every hit that you receive?"
"Alisha..." he replied, stunned. He had never seen her cry. Not once in any fight or any tragedy. Even when her best friend of thirteen years died of leukemia...if she cried, she never allowed herself to show it.
"No!" she whispered, " more, Joshua..." she was shaking visibly now.
Joshua rushed to hold her, "I'm sorry Alisha, I'm sorry..."
"Please, Joshua, please, no more," she pleaded, weeping, " more...I was so scared...last time I nearly lost you...please...just no more..."
She kissed him hard. Wiping the tears from her eyes, she held him close, not wanting to let go.
" more..." she murmured into his mouth, " more..."
He met her lips gently, "Alisha...I can't-"
"No..." she stopped him with a slow kiss, "don't say that...let's just forget about it...please..." the last part was only a thought as his tongue found hers, his hands unbuttoning her blouse.
She gave in willingly, letting him pull her up and easily place her on the desk. He helped her remove his shirt. Her touch was electrifying and her fingers trailed down his bare chest to his waist. Joshua was of average build, not very muscular or lanky, but he wasn't fat either. His strength lay in his compassion to others, and his love which she had, and willingly gave her own in return.
After unhooking her bra, he placed a hand on her breast; familiar hands doing familiar work, which would soon make her squirm in pleasure.
She lifted her small hips as he slid down her short skirt. Lightly touching her skin, he slowly moved his fingers down to the wetness forming between her legs. She grabbed his hand, "Not yet," she whispered.
Kissing her way down his body, she undid his jeans and slid them down. He never wore any kind of boxers, and his hard seven inches sprang up in front of her. Immediately, she swallowed it, moving her head back and forward in a slow rhythm, every once in a while, licking up his shaft, or playing with his balls with a hand or tongue.
Joshua closed his eyes. Lost in pleasure he gently took a hold of her hair, urging her to go faster.
Eyes tightly shut, head back, his body tensed trying to hold it. He couldn't come yet, he wanted, needed to please her first. He took her chin and lifted it up to look into her eyes. She understood. Standing up she kissed him hungrily.
Once again, leaning her back against the desk, she spread her legs. Slowly, he pulled the black thong off, to lightly kiss her on her mound. Her breathing became more intense.
Licking her clit, she tensed her body, "...faster...faster..." she whispered, her own hands playing with her breasts. Looking up at her, seeing her wrapped in ecstasy was too much for him. His sex was throbbing hard enough to hurt, grabbing it, he pumped the shaft furiously.
"Faster...faster...I'm coming," she repeated over and over. Joshua smiled, and did as he was told, thrusting his tongue in and out of her as quickly as he could. Suddenly, she wrapped her legs around his head, hard, as ounces of her arousals poured out of her, just as Joshua exploded over her stomach.

...A bell rang...lunch had ended...

And yeah...that's the third chapter...don't worry, I got a nice hopefully well written Christmas special planned that will refocus on Chance and Sarah. If you have any questions, comments, insults, criticisms, drop me a line at I give my heartfelt thanks to all the support I've received from everyone who's sent me a fan mail. To those of you who haven't sent me fan/hate mail, I give a nice, healthy "fuck you!" Well, not really, but do let me know what you think...Thanks for reading! Cheers!
False face must hide what the false heart doth know...