Every guy, and some girls, at Medford High, lay awake at night dreaming of stroking that long, auburn hair, of lightly squeezing the cheeks of that tight ass, of cupping and suckling on her delicious tits. To put it simply, Katie Quinn was a goddess. It was a regular occurrence, not to mention, that her miniscule little nipples poked curiously out of any top she wore, even though it was clear that she did not go braless. The gorgeous, identical, round tits bounced with every movement she made and they were each roughly the size of a melon not massive, not so tiny as to appear prepubescent, but perfect. In addition, her breasts were not unlike her ass completely and totally perfect in most's eyes. Her ass was like something created by some kind of sexual sculpture artist her round, tight cheeks swelled generously out from her curving waste and the sliver in between beckoned all who looked at it. To walk behind Katie Quinn in any situation for more than several seconds is a privilege that most male students at Medford High would strangle their loved ones for. This is not even mentioning the aspects of her appearance that were sexual. For a 17 year old, she was luckily endowed with a set of gorgeous legs, a torso that was more curvaceous than I actually thought was possible, a gleaming visage with perfectly symmetrical eyes cheeks, all set by a light tan that was seldom seen in the wintry state of New Hampshire. Katie, as it happens, also happened to have one of the most perfect bodies that any man has ever laid eyes on. She spent her entire day either studying, socializing while studying, or studying while socializing. Legend has it that she once received less than a 95% grade on an exam or classwork assignment long ago, but nothing has been proven. Katie Quinn was the epitome of a “preppy” girl. It is ironic, I notice while describing myself, that the other significant character in this story is not all so different in some ways, but completely different in others.
I was simply average, with a small group of friends upon whom I could rely, a steady 3.5 GPA, and a star spot on the lacrosse team at my school. I wouldn’t call myself popular in school, nor a loner of any kind. My name is Chris Hollis, and I attend Medford High School in New Hampshire.
I’ll start off by introducing myself and a few other important characters in this tale. But what occurred that particular day would change the course of my life in high school, and make Junior year the most fun by far. It all started on a school day not unlike most others a quick breakfast with bites in between glances at the clock, a few hours of monotonous classes, a lunch break, and then the long stretch of time in between lunch and the last moment of school.
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