Junior Year Box Set

When we left the dojo, I was starved. Next door, a new Mexican place had opened that was only carryout. I was surprised to see they had a line. I read their menu and they had a burrito they claimed was as big as your head. Of course, I was getting that. I thought Pam might want something light, so I got the deluxe order of nachos. Cassidy ordered two of the giant burritos to take home with her. I tried to feed her and her dad as often as possible because Cassidy didn’t charge me for lessons at the dojo. It was the least I could do to pay her back.

When our food came, it worried me a bit when I felt the weight of the bags. I now understood the line. You got a lot of food for a very reasonable price. I would have to let the guys on the team know because they always wanted to fill up but not go broke doing it.

When I got home, I went up to my apartment and found my trusty hound sound asleep in his crate on his new bed, and Pam stretched out on my couch in sweats, watching Hollywood Central. I deposited the food on the coffee table and went to take a shower.

“David! Get in here!” Pam shouted.

I wrapped a towel around my waist and hurried out to see what the problem was. She pointed at the TV, and I saw myself dancing.

“They showed a hilarious video of him dancing. This just goes to show you that white boys shouldn’t dance,” the gay guy in the back said. “But we have some exclusive video of David doing lip-sync in a bar.”

It showed me with my shirt off.

“He can dance for me anytime,” the small girl with curly hair shouted out.

“I hear he’s only like sixteen,” Aaron, the show’s host, said.

“I’d do the jail time,” the mean girl who’d gained weight said.

“So, what’s the verdict? Can he dance?” Aaron asked.

The voting was pretty much split guys vs. girls. In the end, I didn’t care what the guys thought. My phone began to ring as soon as the segment was over. It was Harper from Wesleyan.

“Hey, Dancing Stud. You were just on Hollywood Central,” Harper teased me.

“Tell him it’s on YouTube,” Tami said in the background.

“Did you hear that?” Harper asked.

“Yeah, I’ll have it put out on my social media in a few minutes. So, on my dancing ability, were you with the girls, or with the boys, on Hollywood Central?” I asked.

“Do you need your ego stroked?” Harper asked and laughed. “Let’s just say the guys were jealous.”

After the Wesleyan girls had their fun, I began to get calls from all over the country. Some I was surprised at, like Flee and Candy in Miami, while others were expected, like Sandy Range. While I talked, Pam ate my dinner and had Monday Night Football on. Then our ad came on. It showed the four of us walk out of a fog and I thought we looked badass. My tattoos were on full display, and there was a monster gun on my shoulder. Bree and Elizabeth looked hot in their leather clothes. Craig was the tough nerd-boy, if I was being kind.

They showed a clip of Ben and me doing one of our fight scenes, and then me as I kissed Elizabeth. There were a couple of other scenes that showed the rest of the cast, including Lori Winnick. Then it ended with me doing a dance on the bridge of our spaceship after we survived the attack. Pam gave me a funny look when it finished.

“You’re a real movie star,” she said.

I didn’t really know what to say to that. I think that when everyone had heard about me making the movie, they must have just filed it away as another thing David did. To see it on TV somehow made it real for her, as I would expect it would for others.

While that thought had gone through my head, Pam had given me a look that caused Mr. Happy to swell. Being a horny teenage boy, I turned my phone off and forgot about eating. Something more important had come up. I ran to the bedroom and got a condom and returned to find Pam lying back on the couch with a pillow under her head. I covered her body and kissed her. She broke our kiss with desire evident in her eyes.

“I need you now,” she told me.

I got off the couch, lost my shorts, and put the condom on. Pam was no help, so I grabbed her sweats and underwear and pulled them down to her knees. She squeaked when I lifted her legs, got on the couch, and pushed them to her chest. It was sexy as hell to see her fat little kitty displayed between her surfer-girl thighs. I lined everything up and plunged forward. This position made her tight. I made sure she felt every bit as I pushed in.

I felt the dominance that had been missing while I was with the couple at the swingers party. From this position, Pam was at my mercy as I towered over her. I got a feral grin.

“Tell me when you’re ready,” I told her.