Dazzling the Dazzlings

Dazzling the Dazzlings
Sonata's Stuck Locker
Mister Coffee

“Please?”

You look down at her thoughtfully. “Ain't it the custodian's job to make sure that all the school equipment is functioning properly?”

“I suppose.” Sonata crosses her arms. “But, I could leave a note, and it'd take like, a week or more before it got fixed, and what would I do with my stuff until then?” She hitches up her overburdened backpack. “I can't carry it all around all the time. I've heard you're handy, and clever when it comes to fixing things.”

You sigh. It’s true; you are clever at fixing things. You’ve always had a good hand at machines, whether it be fiddling with a computer or tuning up your truck. Sure, some people frown on that, and maybe it’s not as sexy as some pursuits—but there will always be machines, and they’ll always break.

On top of that was the simple matter of pride. You'd never let a thing beat you. “All right. I'll take a quick look, and see what it's gonna take to get her working right. Might have to get some tools out of my truck.”

“Thanks!” she beams. “I can't even tell you how much I need this.”

“Ain't nothing.” You toss your book bag in your locker and shut the door, patting your pocket to make sure you have your multi-tool, before slipping the padlock in the handle and snapping it shut. “Where is your locker?”

“It's right this way.”

Sonata flounces down the hall, and you can't help but give her backside an appreciative look. Didn't help that she likes wearing short skirts that don’t leave a whole lot to the imagination. You’re pretty sure she hasn’t caught you staring yet, but that doesn’t stop you this time, either.

You were so distracted that you'd almost followed her through the door before you notice where you are.

“Uh, Sonata, this is the girl's locker room.”

She looks back at you, brow furrowed. The door, you notice, is held wide open, and you risk a glance over her shoulder before looking back at her. Whoever designed this place had people like you in mind—there’s nothing but a cement block wall to be seen. “Yeah. 'Cause that's where my locker is.”

“I thought you meant your school locker, you know. Out in the hallway.”

She gives you a cute little pout. “Well, they're pretty much the same, aren't they? A locker's a locker.”

“Shoot.” You glance up and down the hallway nervously. “I didn't think—I guess they're kind of the same, but it's in the girl's locker room.”

“Yeah, so?” She reaches out and runs a finger across your T-shirt. “But there's nobody in there. School's over.”

“It just isn’t right.” But just the same, you are curious. The girl's locker room is a great mystery. Intellectually, you knew it's probably the same as the boy's, but it's forbidden territory—and that makes it thrilling. You take a deep breath. “Okay.” I'm such a sucker for a pretty face.

“You're so sweet.” To your regret, she withdraws her hand. “Come on.”

You take one more look up and down the deserted hall, just to make sure nobody was looking, finally ducking guiltily through the door.

Once you’ve rounded the short wall, you take in the room. Much like the boy’s locker room, it’s nothing more titillating than rows of lockers, with changing benches arranged neatly in the aisle. In fact, aside from the pink paint on the lockers, it’s identical to the boy’s locker room, although it smells nicer.

You follow her down the ranks of lockers, spotting her locker before she points it out—it's covered in magnets. You suppress a chuckle—she's absolutely the kind of girl who'd cover her locker in silly magnets. Briefly, you wonder if the lockers flanking it belong to Aria and Adagio. They probably do. Even if they had been assigned randomly or alphabetically at the beginning of the year, they’d have relocated.

“What's the problem?”

“The door sticks.” She reaches down and works the combination lock, snapping it open and setting it to the side, then tugs up on the latch and tries to pull it open, but—true to her word—it doesn't budge.

“Let me try.” You grab the chrome handle between your fingers and gave it an experimental pull. As she'd said, it was stuck fast.

“See?”

You look at the door thoughtfully. The gap is uneven; it's touching at the top, but the bottom iss clear. You'd had the same problem on your pickup; the hinges were either worn out or bent. If it was the former, you were out of luck; if it was the latter, it would be an easy fix.

You tug up hard on the latch and jerk the door open. Your face reddens as you’re confronted with a lacy maroon bra hanging from the hook in the center.

For just a moment, you have an urge to reach out and touch it, maybe imagine what it might feel like if Sonata were still wearing it. A slight stirring in your jeans accompanies that thought. You force your eyes off the bra, and nonchalantly bend to examine the door more carefully. A few tugs up and down don’t reveal any looseness, so it’s a case of bent hinges.

Maybe she likes swinging from her locker door. You could see that.

Maybe she likes doing it naked.

You’d like to see that.

You reach down and lace your fingers together under the bottom of the door. With a grunt, you yank up, bending the flimsy steel back into position. You swing the door shut, taking careful note of how it closes, and try again.

It wasn't quite right, so you give it another go, grunting with the effort. This time, the door swings smoothly home. You smile, opening and closing it again to make sure.

“I reckon that'll do her.”

“Thanks!” Sonata stands up and moves right next to you. You have a brief internal struggle as she crowds next to you, but she isn't asking you to move, and you aren't opposed to having her pressing against you as she reaches into her locker.

Your face turns red again as she pulls the bra off the hook. “That's one of my favorites, and I couldn't get it back after gym, because my locker door was stuck.”

You aren't sure what you should say, so you keep your mouth shut as she tosses it on the bench behind her. It would be nice if you changed into it right now, you think.

“You've been so helpful,” she says, turning to face you. She'd unfastened her jacket, and you think you catch a flash of a nipple poking at the thin fabric or her shirt as she turns. You force your eyes back up as she looks at you, but your dick has seen all it needs to. Hopefully, she won’t look down, and you can make a graceful exit without her thinking you’re some kind of pervert..

“I had to go without it all afternoon,” she tells you.

Once again she catches you at a loss, and it doesn't help matters when she pulls you into a tight embrace. Of all the things you might have anticipated, this was nowhere on the list. “I can't thank you enough.”

“It was my pleasure.” Briefly forgetting your current state of arousal, you instinctively wrap your arms around her and pull her in close. “Wasn't much work.” The scent of her shampoo is strong in your nose. Over the top of her head, you can see the showers, and a fleeting image of her standing there washing herself plays through your mind, spurred on by the very obvious feel of her breasts pressing against your chest—breasts you now know full well aren't covered by anything but the thin fabric of her t-shirt.

“You smell so nice,” Sonata whispers. She bends her head back and kisses you on the chin. “LIke, work. You smell like a real man.”

“I—“

“Kiss me.” She looks at you and pouts. “For realsies.”

You lean down and plant a chaste kiss on the top of her head, jerking back in surprise as you feel her hands slide down, and then back up under your shirt. Her palms are surprisingly soft, and warm as well. She slides one up your back, while the other hovers just above your jeans, her fingers moving slightly under the denim, barely touching the elastic waistband of your underwear.

Now would be the time for a witty one-liner, but your entire brain has locked up, focused solely on the foreign finger that’s touching your skin just under your boxers. Your instincts take over—rational thought will just have to wait for a bit. She wants a kiss, and she’s got a hand reaching down your pants. There’s only one thing to do.

You don't have to ask as she tilts her head back; you bend down and gently kiss her on the lips. A moment later, her tongue pushes against your lips, and you only hesitate for a second before you let her in.

You’d never thought of her as the forceful type, but her tongue is insistent, fighting yours for dominance in your own mouth. Despite it being a battle you don’t mind losing, you still put up a bit of a struggle, working your tongue into her mouth until she bites down gently.

Her right hand slides lower, gently pushing aside your underwear and moving down your butt. You retaliate by doing the same, although you stay outside her skirt, gripping her tight ass with both hands as you pull her close. Only then do you remember you are sporting a raging hard-on, and you're pulling her into it.

“Mmm,” she purrs as he finally breaks the kiss. “You're so strong.”

“It's all the manual work I do,” you mutter. She steps back, and you let your hands trail up to the top of her hips. This is the end of it, you think. Now she’s going to give some excuse to brush me off.

“Yeah.” To your surprise, she runs her hands across your abs, sliding them up under your shirt. You suck in a breath as she rubs your chest hair lightly, the sensation sending shocks of pleasure through you. You shift your legs to deal with the rising problem in your jeans just as her fingers caress your pectorals and nipples.

You can't help but see that hers are thrusting through her t-shirt, and you began to move your hands slowly up her stomach. “We really shouldn't—“ you begin, but you're not stopping. You’re not quite sure why you said that. Of course you really should.

“Nobody's here,” she reminds you. Her hands run across your stomach, hesitating only briefly at your belt, before going lower. Only sheer force of will keeps you from thrusting your hips forwards as she teasingly traces her index finger across the bulge in your jeans.

That's all the excuse you needed to grope her breasts. You trace around her rock-hard nipples, running your fingers lightly across them. Her boobs are smaller than Aria’s, but you aren’t complaining: it’s like ‘only’ winning a million dollars in the lottery.

She leans up for another kiss, and this time you don't hesitate. Your tongue is in her mouth as soon as you make contact, while you continue groping her boobs. You feel her unbuckling your belt and unbuttoning your pants, and when her fingers touch the zipper you do thrust forward. You reach under her shirt and slide your hands up her bare skin, not slowing until you have her bare breasts in your hands.

Your thumbs slide back and forth across her nipples, gently stroking, as she slips your jeans down, leaving only a thin layer of cloth covering your manhood.

Unwilling to wait, she hooks her fingers in the waistband and shoves your boxers down, sending a wave of pleasure through you as they rake across your stiff dick, then she laces her fingers around your ass and pulls herself tightly against you, pressing her stomach against your crotch.

It's a moment which stretches out into forever. Your engorged cock is trapped between you, and you swear you can not only feel every breath she takes, but every heartbeat as well. Her T-shirt is nothing but a promise meant to be broken.

Sonata breaks the embrace long enough for you to lift her shirt over her head, revealing her perky boobs. You admire them momentarily, before pressing back, and if the feel of her shirt rubbing up and down against your cock had been good, her smooth stomach is infinitely better.

You reach down, your fingers going under the hem of her skirt, and slide your hands up the inside of her thigh. You move slowly and teasingly along her skin, taking your time to lightly brush your fingers against her skin, tempting though it is to rush for the prize.

She pulls herself tightly against you as your finger brushes against fabric. Against all odds, you restrain yourself, moving your finger up and over the thin band of elastic and up her thigh until you reach the waistband of her panties.

You tease her by reaching over the top, letting your hand trace across her pubic mound. Your fingertip brushes against silky-smooth hair, and you can feel your cock throbbing with desire. You can’t wait any longer—you follow the trail down.

Sonata thrusts forward as your fingers slip between her lips.

You hook your middle finger into her hot wet flesh, sliding back and forth between her lips. You’re concentrating on her intently, getting a feel for her sex.

She moans loudly as your finger finds a hard button of flesh, neatly tucked between the folds of her lips. You press into her clit, kneading it roughly.

Sonata presses her head against your chest, kisses your collarbone, then kisses downward until she takes a nipple in her mouth. She bites it gently, pulling it into her mouth, then starts darting her tongue against your sensitive flesh. Her hands slide across your abs again, gently kneading the tight flesh before she trails down your chest hair and twists your pubes in her fingers.

You retaliate by jamming a knuckle into her clit. Your victory is fleeting; your shaft twitches as she bites down harder on your nipple, before grabbing your dick at its root and sliding her hand along its length.

She begins stroking you slowly, her tongue still swirling around your nipple. You move your hands away from her slit and hook her panties with both hands, pulling them down to expose her fully.

Sonata doesn't change pace on your dick as she steps out of her panties, catching them over a boot and tossing them off to the side. You hardly notice; one hand is stroking between her legs while the other is groping a breast.

Without any warning, she drops to her knees. You look down just in time to see her holding your dick in front of her mouth before she leans in to kiss the glans.

You stare down dumbly as she bends forward again, sticking her tongue out just far enough to lap at your tip before taking you in her mouth, eagerly moving down your length even as she keeps stroking with one hand. It takes all your willpower to keep from thrusting forwards as she takes inch after inch into her mouth. Some part of you is vaguely aware that despite all the evidence in pornos, most women wouldn’t actually like to be face-fucked.

She makes it down half your length before she rocks her head back, stopping just short of letting your head out of her mouth. She grips you with her hand as she slides forward again, and you reach down and put your hand on the top of her head, running your fingers through her hair.

This isn’t your first blowjob, but it’s easily the best.. One hand strokes your shaft as her head bobs up and down in a slow rhythm, and you can do nothing but watch yourself sink into her mouth. Her hand keeps gentle pressure at your base, while her tongue traces along the bottom and head.

Just when you thought it couldn't get any better, she releases her grip on your rod and reaches around to grip your ass cheeks. Her eyes meet yours, and she pulls herself forward, inch after inch until she's taken your whole length in her mouth.

You can't help yourself; you grab the back of her head and push her harder against your crotch as you feel her throat muscles working against your cock. Her tongue slathers as much of your length as it can reach before she pushes herself back.

She deep-throats you a dozen more times before finally pulling all the way off your dick and getting back to her feet. She kisses her way up your chest, and when she reaches your mouth, you don't even hesitate, thrusting your tongue back inside.

Your hands grip her shoulders tightly as she takes off her skirt. Your eyes are drawn to her neatly-trimmed pubic hair, and you reach down and run your hand across it, lightly flicking a finger across her clit.

Sonata grabs your shirt and yanks it up. Regretfully, you let go, lifting your arms above your head to help her undress you.

When your head is completely covered, she takes the opportunity to dart in and lick your nipple again, blocking any attempt at retaliation with your t-shirt.

Then she pulls it the rest of the way off and throws it behind you.

Now naked except for her shoes, Sonata steps back and sits on the bench, slowly leaning back, making sure that you get a good look at her bare body. “Fuck me,” she whispers.