Senior Year Memories Ch. 10

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Usual Disclaimer Time: Even though this story almost entirely takes place in a high school setting, all the characters in this story are 18 years old or older, and since we’re living in the wide wonderful world of porno-land here, where clichés roam free and things might get a little unrealistic from time to time, please remember it’s all in good fun, I swear.

Author’s Note: Thank you all for your patience; I know it’s been a long time on this chapter due to a variety of real world factors and issues beyond my control, so I hope it doesn’t disappoint. Believe it or not, it’s been the awesome feedback you’ve all given that’s kept this going. If you’re enjoying this, please, please, please drop some stars, reviews or shoot me some feedback. Though I may not always respond, I do love hearing from all of you and seeing that you’re enjoying the series. It keeps me going and motivates me to continue writing more. You’ve all been wonderful and I can’t thank you enough for all of your kind words and encouragement!


Previously, on Senior Year Memories: Preparations for Regan Hills High School’s annual Halloween Scream carnival have sent nerdy 18-year-old Ryan Collins to call on a number of unlikely allies for assistance in putting together a haunted house, even though the event itself is under threat of a protest by some of the school’s more religious students. At the behest of Puma Press editor Nadia Barclay, Ryan was sent to seduce former cheerleader and full-time slutty hipster, Rose Ferris. However, the tables were turned when Rose revealed she’d already agreed to help, and just wanted to fuck Ryan. Though Ryan was more than happy to fuck Rose in all of her holes, he also found he enjoyed talking to her, as she helped him put into perspective some of the internal conflicts he’s had after fucking his best friend, Tori.


It was a week until the Halloween Scream, and things were finally starting to come together. Hours upon hours of after school time, weekends and even lunches, and the Puma Press finally had the basics of a haunted house put together in Regan Hills High School’s abandoned Bungalow 237. It didn’t look like an asylum taken over by a gang of cannibalistic clowns just yet, but we were confident that we’d get there in time. Between Josie’s and my planning and Rose’s insane building skills, what once was a bungalow full of junk was now a darkened chamber with a snaking zig-zag of walls that would guide people exactly where we wanted them for maximum effect jump scares. I didn’t know where Rose got all of her supplies to put those walls up that fast, and truthfully I didn’t want to know.

Once she was set on a task, she was gonna pull it off come hell or high water.

Between her, Josie and me (and Nadia taking credit for putting the three of us together), we made a good team, and I was pretty certain we’d be able to put together a damn good set. Whether we’d make more money than the drama club’s “Vampire Castle,” I couldn’t say, but based on sets alone I thought we had a good chance.

Of course, a good haunted house needed more than just sets; we needed good people, and we had them in spades. Mallory’s cosplaying skills and enthusiasm ensured that we’d have the best looking evil clowns as evil clowns went, while Kaitlyn and Brooke’s efforts to get a handful of cheerleaders to dress as sexy clowns to entice people to our house (while the rest of us from the Puma Press participating in the event played considerably less sexy clowns within) had gained four more to our cause.

It was amazing seeing the project, which had once seemed an insurmountable challenge, come together. Almost as amazing as seeing so many people from so many different backgrounds coming together, though sex had a little something to do with that.

Okay, maybe a lot.

In the past two months, I’d had sex with seven people working on our haunted house for the Halloween Scream. Some of them I’d fucked before I’d become attached to the event, some after, some even because, and admittedly, it was a bit weird working around so many people I’d fucked on one project. They all knew, of course, and there were times I’d catch some of them giggling and talking and knew there wasn’t shit I could do about it.

Thankfully, the haunted house was a maze, and mazes were meant to be lost in.

Occasionally, though, you could also be found in them.

I was working on a narrow alcove we’d hidden between a pair of “walls,” narrow-looking enough that if you just glanced at them you’d think they were a normal wall, but angled in such a way that they created a good sized gap where a person could hide, bursting through a curtain painted to look exactly like the wall whenever they wanted to scare someone. It was an effect that wouldn’t hold up to scrutiny under light, but in the darkness this house would be under, it’d be pretty damn scary.

Or I hoped it would be, anyway.

I was stapling up part of the curtain, cursing the wobbly stool I stood on, when gaziantep escort I heard her voice.

“Need any help?”

I looked down to see my best friend, Tori McNeil, standing and looking up at me. She was dressed for manual labor today, wearing a tie-dyed tank top that barely held in her massive, D-cup tits, a tight pair of well-worn jeans that hugged her magnificent ass, and a bandanna that poorly attempted to restrain her wild mess of curly, shoulder-length red hair. Her skin, usually porcelain pale (save for her freckles) was flushed red and glistening with sweat from working in the stuffy bungalow. I probably wasn’t any better off, but like in most aspects of life, she made being tired and sweaty look much better than I ever could.

“No, I’m fine,” I said.

“Okay. Mind if I just stand around watching and waiting for you to fall?” Tori asked.

“Go nuts,” I replied, looking down at her nervously, then trying to focus on my staple gun because it was better than trying to come up with something to say to fill the silence.

It’d been almost a month since Tori and I had had sex after Homecoming. Almost a month since I’d told her I loved her, and almost a month since she’d said she wanted to keep things uncomplicated. It was because she wanted to keep things uncomplicated that things felt decidedly complicated, and why the distance between us lately, whether it was by my choice or her choice or some mutual unspoken consent, felt particularly terrible.

“So, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately,” Tori said.

“Oh?” I said, reaching higher to staple the curtain in place.

“About us,” Tori said.

I didn’t know if this is something that I wanted to talk about or something I wanted to avoid, so I just repeated, “Oh?”

She crossed her arms underneath her magnificent breasts, pushing them together in a way that let me know she wasn’t wearing a bra. She said, “We ended things weirdly on Homecoming. I thought we were on the same page, but if we were on the same page, we wouldn’t be hovering around each other in this holding pattern where we go through the motions of being friends without actually doing things as friends.”

Well, that was one way to put it. “I’m sorry?”

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry about; I’m guilty too,” she said.

“You don’t have to feel guilty for-“

Tori interrupted, “I meant what I said, I’m not apologizing for that. We don’t know where life’s gonna take us and I’d rather not complicate things before then, especially when we’re both having some crazy fun this year, but when I said I wanted to keep things casual, I should’ve actually kept things casual instead of putting a wall between us in a stupid hope I’d protect you and keep from breaking your heart.”

I tried not to look at her, but there was a definite flutter in my heart I hadn’t anticipated. “God, I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too,” she said, sounding and looking relieved.

“I don’t… I don’t know what the right thing to do next is, but I’d really like it if we could hang out sometime soon, really get some time to, you know, talk about this?” I proposed.

“I’d like that,” she said, rubbing the corner of her eye with the back of her hand. If I called her out for having a tear there, she’d kick my ass, but it was oddly heartwarming to see.

“I’d like that too,” I said, finishing with the curtain and stepping down from my stool. Miraculously, I didn’t fall even once. Without hesitating, Tori pushed her way into our tiny little alcove and threw a powerful hug around me. It was a tight fit in here between the two of us and the stool, but we could just fit with a little room to spare. I was uncomfortably aware of the way her massive tits crushed against my chest, the way her sweat smelled intoxicating, which caused a slight stirring in my cock. Pressed this tightly against me, there was no way she didn’t notice.

“Can I confess something?” Tori whispered into my ear.

“Always,” I said.

“I’m not even gonna lie that I’m relieved that we’re still cool,” she said.

“We’ll always be cool,” I replied.

“I know that, it’s just… when I’m no longer scared, it’s like relief hits me in a wave, and sometimes when I get that kind of relief, I get really, really horny,” she said, grinding her crotch up against mine.

“Funny, I was thinking the same thing,” I said, quickly looking to the side. The curtain wasn’t much cover, and there were people still working in the haunted house around us, but nobody could see us unless they came looking…

Powerfully, she pulled me in for a kiss. I’d forgotten how wonderful her lips felt, how good she tasted. I kissed her back with an equal ferocious need. Our hands fumbled at each other urgently, communicating an understanding that we didn’t have much time to do this while still wanting to make up the weeks of lost time. She pulled at my belt and zipper, dropping my pants and pulling out my cock, while I pulled her tank top over her huge, beautiful tits. Her bright pink nipples were already hard, standing out like bullets. I bent over, lifting her tits so I could suck on one nipple, then the other while she jacked my cock to full hardness.

“I really wish I were wearing a skirt,” Tori grumbled while I pleasured her tits.

“We can manage,” I said, spinning her around and helping pull her pants and panties down around her ankles, rubbing my cock between the beautiful, round cheeks of her ass. She reached between her legs, grabbing my cock and pulling it forward, rubbing it up against her pussy lips. In the limited space we had, I leaned into her, pressing my cockhead between those lips, parting the wet, hot entrance as naturally as anything.

There was no slowness, no gentleness to what happened next as I thrust inside of her. Tori moaned, or very nearly did at least before I clapped one hand over her mouth, using my other to palm her amazing tits. Our union was a frantic one, but not without its warmth, or, dare I say, love? It wasn’t quite the same feeling I had for her when I made my crazy confession after Homecoming, but there was a definite connection between us that was beyond regular friendship. We could never be the friends we were before we had sex, but we were something else, and if we could keep it like this I was pretty sure I liked it. I’d had a lot of strange, wonderful sexual encounters since Homecoming, and something told me that they were to get me ready to get back on track with Tori. There would be no romantic relationship between us, I understood this, and finally I was okay with it.

If we could keep having sex like this while still being friends, though, well that’d be pretty sweet.

I fucked into her furiously, pounding her hot pussy for all it was worth, squeezing her nipples with my one good hand. She moaned into my other hand, loudly, but I was just able to stifle her. She did her best to fuck back against me, bracing one against the wall of the bungalow and squeezing my cock with her pussy while rubbing her clit with her free hand. Though she was every bit a slut as most of the girls I’d been with of late, her pussy was remarkably tight against my ten inch, very thick cock, and with the pent up emotions we’d both had lately, we weren’t going to last long.

We’d been at it for maybe five minutes when Tori came, moaning against my hand. She seized and shuddered, bucking against me and setting me off, cumming powerfully inside of her. Shot after shot, wave after wave of pleasure, it felt like the strange tension that’d been between us over these past few weeks dissolved. It wasn’t completely gone, nor would it be, but given enough time and effort we could accept this new normal, I thought.

Finally finished, she turned back to me, smiling, squeezing my cock with her pussy one last time. I groaned, softly, leaning over to kiss her.

“We gotta do this some more,” she said.

“And hang out some, too,” I said.

“We can do both,” she replied.

“Awesome,” I said.

“Now, that was really hot and all, but if you’ll get cleaned up, we got a bit of a problem outside, Ryan, you might wanna draw your attention to,” a voice said from beyond the curtain. It was a low, husky voice, one I was very familiar with.

Rose Ferris. If I wasn’t mistaken by the sound of her voice, more than worried, it sounded like she was coming down from an orgasm of her own. We’d been so lost in our frantic sex that we hadn’t even noticed her watching through the slit in the curtain.

Tori placed a quick kiss on my lips before pushing me back, sliding my cock right out of her cunt.

“Come on, let’s get dressed. You take care of the crisis, I’ll finish up around here,” Tori said.

“Can we hang out tonight?” I asked, pulling my pants back up and trying to look halfway presentable.

“You mean hang out or ‘hang out’? Wait, don’t answer that; both sound great to me,” she said.

“Cool,” I said, planting a quick kiss of my own on her lips.

Now looking forward to that night and eager to redefine our relationship, I just hoped that Rose’s problem wasn’t that bad.


It was that bad.

Bad enough that Josie Wong and I ran across campus like the devil was chasing us, trying to catch up with someone who might’ve already been gone. I was dressed for comfort, while Josie was dressed in her usual sort of goth attire; a long black coat, black tank top that barely contained her massive D-cup tits, black cutoffs that barely rested below her pussy, and knee-high black leather platform boots. The outfit showed a lot of skin, which made sense for how hard we were working inside the bungalow, but it wasn’t really practical either for work or sprinting.

Taking a bad step, Josie took a fall that almost sent her flat on her face onto a patch of grass on our school’s quad. I stopped running, ran up next to her.

“I’m fine, go on and catch her!” Josie yelled.

I didn’t stop running, though. I bent over, helped pick her back up and onto her feet. Aside from some grass stains on her porcelain skin, she looked fine.

“That was fucking stupid,” she said, though her eyes were grateful. That interruption finished, we continued our mad sprint, hoping we weren’t too late.

Sorry for the in media res; I should probably explain why we were running, shouldn’t I?

I’d just gotten out of the bungalow to see what was going on when I saw Nadia looking like she was about to blow a gasket. She normally prided herself so much on how she could keep a cool head under the most dire of circumstances, so to see her flipping out was jarring. She paced around, a piece of paper clutched tightly in her hand while Josie stood by her, trying desperately to calm her. The others gave them a wide berth, still working on the bungalow in case Nadia decided to turn on any of them for slacking off.

I went to Nadia, asking what was going on, and when I couldn’t get a good answer from her, Josie snatched the paper from Nadia’s hand, unruffled it and handed it to me.

It was a crudely printed flyer with big, bold words at the top declaring, “PARENTS BEWARE! – HALLOWEEN IS SIN!”

The rest of it was a rambling diatribe against Halloween, courtesy of the Regan Hills Young Christian Purity Brigade. Per Nadia, their leader, 18-year-old Sophie Cusack, had come by as a courtesy to let us know that we might as well not come to the Halloween Scream because she and the rest of her Brigade would be protesting outside, guiding anyone with young children away from the wickedness of our carnival. It didn’t sound like a big deal to me, but when Nadia, holding back tears, explained that more than half the people who attend the Halloween Scream had young kids, the math made sense. A lot of people would walk past Sophie and her protestors, sure, but if they were motivated enough to turn people away, they could affect up to half the money the Scream might’ve made.

Maybe even more.

This wasn’t just a matter of us getting no new computers for the Puma Press; that kind of drop in money would mean nearly every extracurricular at school would lose out on much needed funds.

I exchanged a glance with Josie. There was a time once when we’d joked about this, saying that if Sophie tried anything to interfere with the Halloween Scream we’d step in and try to talk some sense into her. At the time, it seemed more like we’d have to do this to keep Nadia from losing her shit, but now… well, it felt like an exaggeration to say we’d be saving the school, but if we did this we’d sure as hell be helping it.

So, that’s why Josie and me ran off toward the parking lot, which was where Sophie had been headed at last report. She already had a few minute head start on us, and if we wanted to get to her before she got in her car, we had to run.

So we ran. And now you’re caught up.

Thankfully, we caught up with her too, right as she was about to step inside of her faded Volkswagen Bus.

Panting, I called out, “Sophie, wait, up, please!”

Sophie paused, then turned to face us.

Now, I didn’t know her very well being that she was normally pretty quiet around school, mostly hanging out with Regan Hills High’s other really religious kids. I probably never would’ve noticed her at all if she weren’t, in all of her over the top piety, also ridiculously hot.

She was short at about 5’2″ and even under her frumpy sweater with the tiny gold cross hanging against it and long, unflattering skirt, you knew she had a body to kill for. Though it was hard to tell just how big they were, I knew her tits had to be huge, and there was no hiding the flare of her hips showing off what was no doubt a plump, round ass. Her face was pretty in a soft sort of way, with pale skin, dirty blonde hair tied back in a braid that fell to her midback (which, never having seen her out in the sun before, I’d always thought was brown), light blue eyes and a friendly smile that almost looked on the verge of a smug smirk. If it weren’t for that smugness, it would’ve been easy to forget that, under the circumstances, she was the enemy.

“Hello,” Sophie said pleasantly. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Yeah, you can call off your stupid fucking attention grab of a protest and let us have the carnival we ought to have,” Josie panted.

She was a lot blunter about it than I would’ve been, but the point was the same. I, however, would’ve gone about it in a way that would’ve opened doors instead of closing them. For example, I would have said something that wouldn’t have had Sophie laughing in our faces quite like she was.

“I hope you understand that your vulgarity justifies my every action,” Sophie said, her smug smile only strengthening with each word. “You prove to me why it is not only in my best interests, but the best interests of this town that I continue upon my appointed righteous path. I won’t cancel my protest, but I will pray for you.”

She looked first Josie, then me up and down, then said, “Well, some of you, anyway.”

Angry, Josie took a step forward. Thinking quickly, I put my hand on her shoulder.

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