The Senior Project (OPEN)

[ObsideanWarrior]

Camille looked over the senior project, leafing through the papers the teacher had just handed out. Mr. Jones was still going on about it, but Camille tuned him out like she normally did. The teacher was decently intelligent, but his lectures could easily put amphetamine addicts into a coma. Someone had called him "Mr. Drone" and the name had stuck.

Besides, all this shit was written down anyway. What were the papers for--decoration? But that was par for the course in this new city school she had been sent to, Camille thought, as she brushed her blonde hair back out of her face. Before, she had been going to this nice school out in the suburbs, Calverton High. But since her mother had gotten the divorce and moved to the city, she was going to this school, Public School #31. Who the fuck gave numbers to a school anyway? You named schools after people, or places. Or something. What was this--prison?

Most of the kids here, she couldn't relate to. No, make that most of the kids. They talked loud, listened to annoying music with thumping bass. She had nothing in common with them. A third of the conversations in the hallways were in Spanish, or in urban slang. Had these kids slept through elementary school, grammar school, and high school? Couldn't they speak English, for Chrissake? And co-ed gym class was damn near enough to make her revolt. The thought of running away occured to her...and she took it seriously at times.

But if she could just get through the next four months, she was going to get a job, move away from Mom, and never look back at this place. The divorce had been her fault anyway, with her wanting the "free life," away from her father. Well fuck her and her "free life," Camille thought, because while Mom's life was free, hers went down the crapper...at least on weekdays from 7:55am until three each afternoon.

"And now, it's time to pair you off so you have a partner for this project." Partner? I have to have a fucking partner here on the Planet of the Apes?. Mr. Jones got her attention back with that one. Fuck! He began reading down the list, pairing the students off one by one. Camille was sincerely hoping he would forget she existed. But then, her name was called...

"Camille Brentwood, your partner will be..."

Obviously, I'm looking for a partner for Camille. The partner should be male, from the school population of students. I'm certainly open to expanding the thread to encompass other roles, but for now, just a partner. Of course, the partner is going to want to do her along with the project. I picture the relationship being at least somewhat reluctant, maybe outright forced, maybe forced hard. Depends on how the thread evolves. But I'm looking to go into the dynamics of the relationship...how it changes her and the other student, in addition to raw, hot sex.

Oh, and PLEASE, no one-line posters. Nothing personal, but...

 

[Donalddeutsch]

Malcolm

OOC: I would love to try another post with you, so here is my bio for this post.

Malcolm MacDonald
6' 6"
250 Pounds of Muscle
Bald Head
Green Eyes
10" Of hard black meat
Muscular, star Basketball Player on the school team

Malcolm was sitting in the back row when the teacher, Mr Drone, was talking about the final assignment for the school year. He was listening halfway intently, for he had already had a scholarship for college for Basketball, and he was going pro in four years. He listened more intently when he said that they were going to have partners. "Camille you will be partnered with Malcolm, go ahead and go sit with him." He had heard that name before, but wasn't sure which one of the babes that he had taken to bed in this class she was. He never usually remembered names, just one or two night stands, and he never worried about girls getting pregnant, that was what coach was for, to take care of problems like that. He smiled to himself, but then he saw her. "Damn, I've not had her before." He said under his breath, and then got up to meat her. "Hi Camile, I'm Malcolm, I guess we're partners for this project." He smiled at her with a winning smile, and shook her hand.

 

[ObsideanWarrior]

Camille returned the handshake with certainly less than bubbly enthusiasm. Malcolm could tell that he was not exactly "partner material," at least in this girl's eyes. Camille had heard the name a time or two, but really hadn't bothered to try and learn names at this outpost of civilization. She was just trying to do her time, get by, and get the hell out of Dodge. And now she had to contend with this.

She stood up, revealing her five foot five inch frame. Camille was skinny without the rail-thinness of Ally McBeal or Alannis Morissette. Her respectable chest was pent up effectively behind a moderately conservative blouse. Her skirt was knee-length. Her hair was about three-fourths of the way down her back, and he could tell she took care of it as her pride and joy.

"So," she steeled herself, "do you have any ideas on what subject we should do our project on? It seems rather open-ended...I mean, like we can do it on whatever topic we want, through library or field research." She looked around...here she was on the Planet of the Apes, and she was paired with General Ursus.

 

[Donalddeutsch]

Malcolm

Malcolm thought about it for a second and smiled. "Well we could do it on the Sexual practices of the Ancient Barbarian tribes of the Eastern European Continents, and how they seemed to treat their woman like sex slaves, but also that the women always seemed to think that it was the right thing to do, but only because they were brought up that way." He was trying to see if he could get a rise out of her, maybe see if she wanted to do some field research on it, with practicing it for a while with him. Maybe get her in bed, and make her see why they call him Mr All Nighter. He smiled at that thought, and looked her up and down with a experts eye.

 

[ObsideanWarrior]

Now in Camille's mind, Malcolm was acting like the thug and hoodlum he probably was. Talk about reverting to type, the girl thought. "No, I don't think we'll be doing anything of the sort. Eastern Europe never really interested me, and whatever we do certainly isn't going to be about sex. You'll have to get that someplace else.

"I was thinking maybe...hmm..." Camille stopped and thought for a moment. "Maybe on Australia. I've always wanted to go there. They say all the water drains clockwise there rather than counter-clockwise." She looked at him for any inkling of whether or not he understood what she was getting at, while wearily concluding this was going to be a long four months.

 

[Donalddeutsch]

Malcolm

Now Malcolm wasn't one of the smartest in the books, but he knew about Australia and their customs. "Hmm, Land Down Under, with the Wallabees, Aborigines, and the backwards draining water, sounds like a place to do about. What exactly do you want to do our report on about Australia? We can do it on the Aboriginis, and their way of life, we can do it on Australia as a whole, we can do it on the wildlife, or we can just plain do it." He said this last one under his breath, wondering if she would catch it.

 

[ObsideanWarrior]

As exasperated as she was at this whole project, and having to work with one of the "locals" at the school, the double-etendre slipped by. "I'm thinking of focusing primarily on the settlers, relations between them and the aborigines. You know, the whole colonial thing. Fascinating that a nation was founded by criminals, yet went on to become a First World country respected worldwide."

She looked at the clock. The bell would ring in four minutes. Then she would be out of this place like shit through a goose. It occured to her that maybe she could just volunteer to do the whole damn thing herself, then she wouldn't have to work with this jock...

 

[Donalddeutsch]

Malcolm

Malcolm 'The Jock' didn't have practice today, for the Basketball season was over now. "So do you want to come over to my place to do some studying tonight, and I can fix you dinner if you like? I know some really good Australian recipe's, even have some recipe's from the Aborigine's you might like to look at. You see, my father is from Australia, so I have been there a couple of times, and know a few things about it." He smiled at her and offered her his arm when the bell rang. --Just got to get her home with me, then I can make my move.-- He thought to himself, knowing that she was his now.

 

[ObsideanWarrior]

"To your house?" She was immensely skeptical of that idea. "What, is your father an Aborigine or something?" That one would be a whopper. "I think we can start off in the library, maybe. When I get home tonight I can do some research on the Internet. I suppose I might as well go by the library and grab any books I can before I go home." To my own house, she thought firmly.

Of course, she thought if his father were actually an Aborigine, that would be of great value. Nothing like hearing something from the source. Still...

She gathered up her things, wondering what he would say about the library.

 

[Donalddeutsch]

Malcolm

"Actually my father is an Aborigine, and my mother is the Great Grand Daghter of Harriet Tubman, the leader of the Underground Railroad, but that's another subject completely. Now I can't let you go there alone, and without an escort, I will drive you to the library, and help out, then give you a lift home, that is unless you have your own vehicle, and not be taking the city bus."

 

[ObsideanWarrior]

"Really?" Camille's look exuded skepticism. "Actually, I'd been thinking about the school library, not the city library. It's closer. But the city library does have more books." She weighed it out in her mind as many of the other students filed out of the classroom. Camille did have her own car, but she was damn near out of gas. She didn't want to go with this strange kid, didn't know him from Harriet Tubman's grandson or Adam. But the library would give them a leg up on research.

"I suppose." She didn't sound very enthusiastic. "I should call my mother, tell her."

 

[Donalddeutsch]

Malcolm

Malcolm smiled and handed her his cel phone. "Go ahead and give her a call. I will wait for you outside the classroom." He went out into the hall with his backpack, he was wearing tight blue jeans, a t-shirt and cowboy boots. He had a ready smile and looked like no one would dare give him any trouble, for he was tall and looked like he could handle any situation.

 

[ObsideanWarrior]

In a moment Camille was with him, handing back his cell phone. "She said I can only stay an hour. I swear, she's the one who made me move out to this shithole and now she wants to control my life. Oh, thanks for letting me use your phone." The scowl was still on her face. "Let's just get this over with so I can finish this project and my Mom doesn't get her panties in a bunch." She looked resigned to the inevitable as she followed him to his car.

"How far is the library anyway?"

 

[Donalddeutsch]

Malcolm

Malcolm smiled and nodded. "Just down the road here. Only an hour, that sucks, it will give us some time to get some books tho. Then I will drive you home and possibly meet your mom also." Thinking that two for the price of one sounded devine.

 

[ObsideanWarrior]

"Yeah, you can at least drop me off. Sometimes my Mom doesn't like to meet people. She can be kind of--standoffish." That, Camille knew, was a baldfaced lie. Rochelle was a social butterfly who loved to meet people, especially men. Camille just didn't feel like being embarassed, because it was quite possible her Mom would be drunk too.

She got into his car, and watched as he pulled into traffic.

 

[Donalddeutsch]

Malcolm

"Oh but I love people that don't like meeting people." He wasn't going to say that he was going to try to get them both into bed tonight, and probably permanently. He drove to the library where they took and got some books that heknew was good for the subject. He then drove her home and walked her to the front door. "I should at least help you with these books Camille."

 

[ObsideanWarrior]

Camille put the key into the front door, opened the lock. The house was quiet. "I think my Mom is gone. She must be over at my aunt's place. It's a couple blocks away." She walked into the entry-way, the door ajar. "I don't know if it would be a good idea. My Mom doesn't like me to have anyone over she hasn't met before when she's not home. If she found out you were here, she'd give me an earful."

Still, Camille had to admit that Malcolm had been a gentleman thus far. She looked at the clock in the living room. 5:12. She had never seen Mom get back from Aunt Mary's any earlier than 5:30, and it was usually closer to six. "She'll probably be gone another fifteen, twenty minutes...maybe an hour." She looked at Malcolm. "I guess what she doesn't know won't hurt her. We can just flag the books most likely to have something useful, and go from there."

 

[Donalddeutsch]

Malcolm

Malcolm smiled and nodded. "Hmm, sounds like a good idea. I can tell you some good ideas from the books for the report, and we can get some studying done." He smiled and asked where she wanted to study at.

 

[ObsideanWarrior]

As the two entered the living room, Camille saw a note taped to the mantel. "Went to Aunt Mary's. Be back around six. Mom."

"Yep, she's gone for a little bit. Well, we might as well go over the books and sort them here on the dining table." There was a respectable dining-room set with a good, sturdy-looking table with a light fixture over it. Camille plopped the books down onto it. "Let's see...these books here are about the Aborigines. These two are about the early years, and this one covers the role of Australia in World War II. And these two...well, this one was about penal colonies in general. Figured it might give some background." She went to a drawer in the kitchen, brought back some colored Post-Its. "So what do you have?" She brushed back her long, blonde hair.

 

[Donalddeutsch]

Malcolm

Malcolm nodded. "You got some good ones, and I got a few, but mostly I have family stories, and family history of Australia and the Aboriginal people." He smiled looking at the table seeing that it looks good and sturdy, good for a good hard fucking on top of.

 

[ObsideanWarrior]

Camille

"Well...I think the books and your family stories, I think we can do a killer report." She had to grudgingly admit that Malcolm might just have something to contribute to the project...unlikely as that had seemed before. She took the post-Its, leafing through the books, applying the colored pieces of paper to flag key chapters. "I'm using these to mark areas of the text I think might be of interest."

She bent over the table to get a stack of books...the skirt was too long to hike up enough to give Malcolm the eyeful he had probably been wanting, but still...

 

[Donalddeutsch]

Malcolm

Malcolm could just think about what she looked like under the skirt. He stood up behind her making like he was reading over her shoulder, but still hiking her skirt up even more, up over her hips. He placed his hand on her ass and started rubbing it and pinching it. He pressed his full erection that he was getting into her ass as he massaged it. He leaned more over her body, so that she couldn't get up as he pressed onto her. He whispered into her ear. "You are now going to get some of the Malcolm baby." He tore at her panties, to get them off of her. Then she heard the sound of a zipper being unzipped loudly, and something pressing against her bare ass.

 

[ObsideanWarrior]

For the few first seconds of Malcolm's come-on, Camille just thought he was being forward, perhaps even joking. "Stop it, Malcolm...I'm not interested." Then, as he hand latched onto her ass, she got the first inkling he was going for something more. "Stop it, now. Get away!" She tried to move herself off the table, to push him back. But she didn't have any leverage, bent over the table.

"You're about to get some of the Malcolm, baby."

"And you're gonna get arrested--now get the hell off of me," Camille flared, pushing, stepping on his toes, jabbing him with her elbow. Now she knew she should have stuck with her instincts about city dwellers. The sound of her panties ripping was clearly audible in the dining room. "Get your hands OFF me!"

 

[Donalddeutsch]

Malcolm

Malcolm slapped her hard, "Now shut up and take it like I know you want it. You also know that no one will believe you over me that this was nothing but mutual in agreement." He spread her legs, and pressed the head of his cock into her pussy. "Yah baby, take all of it." He pressed more of it in.

 

[ObsideanWarrior]

Camille shook her back end in an effort to move away from the hard, black cock that was inxorably lining itself up to take her. She succeeded, in a gesture that shook the table like a seven-pointer, but only for a moment. Malcolm's strong hands forced her back into position, and with a feel of lips around his cockhead, Malcolm knew he had found his mark.

"No, I DON'T want it, you fucking pig, stop it RIGHT NOW" Camille screamed in the empty house. "Stop it stop it!" She kicked back at him.