Dont tell me what to do you twisted faggot. And who are you anyway?, Trent growled back. Im his boyfriend. Fuck… fuck… fuc… fu… f… … Break...it up, boys!, yelled Mr Arthur, the rugby teacher. No one messed with that hunk of junk, so the jocks backed off in an instant, nodding to their coach. As for Elixir, he turned, took me by the hand and literally frog marched me away from campus to the outback. A field of baron scrub with one tree in the middle, which we plopped down beneath. This place had. No protest from him, so I slid his shirt off, his now bare chest against my thin tank top with the bra built in, concealing my breasts from his view. His hand slid down, into my top, pulling the straps down my arms. I wriggled, and pulled off my top, sliding it down my waist, and down my jean covered legs. The fabric puddled onto the floor. We didn’t notice. I unbuttoned and unzipped my almost skintight jeans, kicking them off somewhere near my shirt. His pants soon followed. I shivered with. More

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