The days that followed were filled with loads of chain orgasms, kiss bites, and ass squeezing in old storerooms and deserted classrooms. A whirlwind of bliss and grave consequences, addictive lust. How I survived my prickling conscience was not to dwell too much on the moment but to bask in how pleasurable and wrong it felt. I didn't allow myself to think about how my actions would paint a gory future, not just for me but for the air-headed kid who still had a lifetime of dreams and college football to get to.
Getting more and more tied up with family dinners and football practice, Ryan found other creative ways to stick around after school each day and spend time with me. I never knew how he did it, since Principal Churchill was obviously getting suspicious of his movements and passed me the stink eye each time I walked out of the school block three hours after dismissal. I swear, she was up to something. Or she knew something. Either way, I couldn't bring myself to care right now. Worry later, sex first.
To keep our affairs more private, I insisted that Ryan met me at my apartment each day after his football drills for NHL in a few months. It would allow us some extra time and more orgasms, I'd explained.