This is adult material. If you're under the age of consent,
leave. If you're afraid reading poorly-written descriptions of
sexual behavior might scar your mind, don't blame me. I'm not
paying your shrink bills. You're here because you want to be.
Do not republish this material without my permission.



Smoking Butts High

(Mf teen, exhib, oral, anal)


	Stanley Manley King built his ranch around the buttes on the far
edge of his isolated Idaho town and worked it with true puritan
zeal until the day he died, when it was sold off by his family to
the municipality for a tidy sum. One of his descendants was
rumored to have growled "and good riddens to all you inbred,
know-nothing, reactionary rednecks" before hopping a plane to his
new villa in the Alps. Thus, the King family exits stage East,
never to enter into this story again.
	King buttes was slightly off the beaten path (and for Idaho
that's saying something) so the town zoning committee scratched
their heads for a decade, mired in buyer's remorse, until the
call for a new high school rang out. The previous high school,
the church basement, had unfortunately flooded during a freak
moonshine incident and was thenceforth considered olfactorily
un-conducive to proper learning. (Though it must be noted,
propping the basement door ajar rendered sermons much more
palatable.)
So, decades later in the present day we find Mary Mincey, junior,
former girl scout, five foot six with straight dark hair and an
adorable pixie nose daintily making her way up the steps beneath
the main entrance labeled S.M. King Buttes High on this fine
early October Tuesday morning, absentmindedly thumbing through
her open backpack over one shoulder. Did she remember to bring
her essentials today? Let's see. Books? Phone? Notebooks with
wide margins to inspire creativity? Pens, nice thick ones? All
good. Finally, her fingers grazed the outlines of a little
plastic bottle of cooking oil and a pack of cigarettes.
Excellent. Today was going to be a very good day indeed Mary
surmised as a stiff cold autumn breeze snuck its way up the
stairs, up her long shapely legs, up her modest knee-length skirt
and up her most private demesne. Shivering a bit yet inspired,
Mary slowed her ascent until she felt a second breeze picking up,
then bounded the last couple of steps.
"One... two" she mentally counted to herself, feeling the fabric
bounce up slightly higher off her thighs on the second skip "-
and-a-three!" She finished the movement at the top of the stairs
with a backwards bump of her posterior, lifting the skirt just
high enough for the breeze to catch and lift in a fluttering cone
about her slim waist for a full second before rippling back down
into place. From above it couldn't have looked like more than an
innocent young girl skipping ecstatically to class but all those
below got a full view of Mary's globular buttocks, unencumbered
by any hint of underwear but adorned with the most thrilling
goosebumps. Congratulating herself on her Olympically-precise
performance, she ducked beneath the suspicious glare of Mrs.
Tanner the ancient history teacher (known as such because she was
ancient and taught history, natch) and hurried inside.
First period was math, with Mr. Long sighing as usual at his
impossible task of cramming pre-calculus into sleepy teenagers'
brains. Mary did her best to look awake even as her mind busied
itself surreptitiously scoping out her classmates. John in the
seat next to her was usually good for a bit of harmless mischief
but today he seemed distracted, and it certainly wasn't by Mr.
Long's divisions. She followed his gaze a couple of seats up to
Sarah Sourly, well-noted good girl and total bitch dozing off in
the front row. Sarah wasn't the type to give any boy the time of
day for fear of tarnishing her sparkling reputation as
heavenbound innocent lamb of Reverend Pokely's flock, but
whatever she was dreaming about it must've been good stuff. The
fabric of her sensible cardigan stood out in twin stiff pebbles
atop her barely discernible breasts. Seeing the boys's attention
would be occupied a bit, Mary instead busied herself sprucing up
the margins of her notebook until Mr. Long did his rounds to
inspect their work.
"Mr. Long" she intoned in a singsong voice, cocking her head to
let her long dark bangs caress her delicate jaw line "I was
wondering if you could help me with this equation?"
Her fingers drifted to indicate a decidedly nonmathematical
arrangement. The first term was a doodle of a curvy feminine
midsection with exaggerated labia peeking from a dark penciled
squiggle of pubic hair and an anime-inspired drop of dew hanging
from them. After a plus sign followed a stick figure, featureless
except for the gigantic and remarkably detailed penis sticking
out from the y-intersection of its legs, complete with heavy,
wrinkled testicles adorned with little commas to indicate their
hairiness. Mary prided herself on the accuracy of her artistic
depictions. The two were equaled to a composite of a female stick
figure, boobs hanging, bent over and being stuffed from behind by
a male figure with a thick schlong disappearing impossibly into
her one-dimensional torso. Mr. Long admired her handiwork but
shook his head, drawing his lips into a sorrowful smirk.
"I'm sorry Mary, that result just can't be obtained under the
circumstances."
Then he continued to calmly amble among the desks, inspecting
other students. Fuming, Mary finished off the day's exercises by
the time the bell rang, wondering which of her friends had gotten
to him first. Some days it seemed she lost the race before it
even started. No matter.
"Hey, Mary, can you run interference for us?" she heard as she
walked into the hall and turned to see her friend Daisy, a
statuesque blonde senior clutching a gigantic backpack adorned
with more school spirit trinkets than half a football rally. It
helped her reputation with the more sports-oriented teachers and
parents and more importantly it hung low enough on her back to
conceal the waistband of her thong panties peeking out of her
favorite jeans. That is, until Daisy wanted to catch someone's
attention and hiked up the backpack... it never failed.
Mary nodded and they took the scenic route to the second floor
past a nearly abandoned stairwell on the far side of the gym. As
they approached, John's figure ducked quickly into it. They
continued casually strolling until they reached it, at which
point Daisy cast a look around for hostile figures of authority
but seeing only Miss Clearwater the chemistry teacher smiling
knowingly at them, dashed into the darkness under the stairs
after John. Mary took up her post by the stairs, pretending to
fool with her phone for the next few minutes. Like clockwork, as
the warning bell rang, Daisy re-emerged, smoothing her neat,
respectable top and licking and smacking her lips.
"How is he today?" asked Mary casually as they walked to
chemistry class.
"Thick. And a little bit saltier than usual."
They giggled in unison and hurried off, John exiting the
stairwell whistling innocently in the opposite direction.
Chemistry was next, and they both spent a thoroughly enjoyable
period being educated by Miss Clearwater both in the properties
of acids and the arts of seduction. Miss Clearwater had the
misfortune to hail from that mysterious cesspit of ungodly
corruption known only as "back east" and was thus tolerated but
not quite welcome in town even after three years of teaching.
Where exactly her particular "back east" was located was a
closely guarded secret but the general consensus situated her
shady past somewhere beyond Montana and even both Dakotas, which
of course strayed dangerously close to being on the wrong side of
the Mississippi. Her accent was as crisp as her makeup and
sounded suspiciously (though no-one would be so cruel as to voice
such slander in front of the poor being) like those people on tha
teevee supposedly representing the east coast, the backest of
back-easts. Her appearance in town had caused quite a panic among
the respectable wives' gossip circles, though she soon gained an
inexplicably sterling reputation among the town's males.
The tall thirty-something brunette had a habit of slowly,
gradually wetting and pouting her full ruby lips at the oddest
moments, most often when conversing directly with some
fresh-faced, innocent farmboy, with the invariable effect of
causing him to stammer helplessly and lose his train of thought,
at which she would merely smile and wait for him to recover his
senses. Her hips, clad in an otherwise very conservative long
black skirt, would tilt imperceptibly as she paced between the
tables, suddenly intruding a very feminine hip into the field of
vision of some helpless young buck whose dreams that night would
make for a very guilty next Sunday in church. Mary and Daisy were
somewhat jealous of her influence over their own targets but also
knew themselves outclassed and resigned themselves merely to
observe. They had their own tricks all right, but oh, so much
still to learn.
Miss Clearwater's neat, professional white blouse also
occasionally underwent the strangest transformations during some
classes like today's. The best students sat in front, as usual.
There, the blouse remained neatly buttoned up to her neck. As she
advanced toward the back of the room where the troublemakers sat,
one button after another would magically come undone. The teacher
would look out the window for a second or would twist as she
walked, ostensibly to better navigate the lab tables, and when
she turned again another couple of inches of skin would be bare.
By the fourth row of tables in the back her lacy bra was clearly
visible, propping up two succulently massive orbs of soft flesh -
and she always, always, always found cause to bend over a desk to
better direct her charges. John and his friends ran a stable
betting pool as to the color of her next brassiere. How and when
exactly this prestidigitation was achieved was a mystery to the
few she allowed to notice it, since she could never be seen to
actually touch the buttons - yet down they went, and back up as
she advanced once more to retake her place at the head of the
class, buttoned to her neck so tightly that not even the
staunchest church-ladies could object.
Mary's third class before lunch was gym. She hurried to the
locker room and, like all the other well-bred nice girls, slipped
her gym shorts on under her skirt before removing it. Most did
this in shame of others seeing their panties. A few, like Mary,
did it so no-one would confirm her absence of panties. Coach
Woodrow was in high spirits today, putting the class through
their jumping jacks and sit-ups before finally allowing them ten
minutes of shooting hoops. Mary managed to catch his eye a couple
of times and thought she could spot the little twinkle of
mischief which indicated he might be prompted to action. Back in
the locker room she waited for the class to leave, propped the
door open so she was barely visible from where the coach would
pass by and fished a cigarette out of her pack. A smell of smoke
alerted her that she had competition. Behind her, the Starling
twins, curly-haired and athletic, were both puffing their freshly
lit filtered smokes and raising their eyebrows at her. She
twirled her own cigarette in her fingers and considered her
options - too long, it seems. The door opened fully and coach
Woodrow stood there, arms crossed over his chest, observing the
three girls. He kept his voice low.
"Now, girls, you know very well smoking is forbidden on school
grounds. I'm afraid I'll have to give you both a very harsh talk.
Mary, since you didn't light up yet you can go this time. Just
don't let me catch you doing it again."
"Yes, sir." Mary dutifully bowed her head in resignation and
exited, seeing the twins already flipping their t-shirts over
their heads out of the corner of her eye. The heavy door closed
and locked. Ah, well, it was hard competing with those two when
they got together. She replaced the cigarette in her pack,
rearranged her bangs for maximum cuteness and headed for lunch,
sitting at her usual table with her friends and chattering loudly
in the crowded hall for fifty minutes about that emptier than
void absolute nothing which is the exclusive territory of teenage
girls' conversations. English class was next with Tommy and Mr.
Hardy, so she paused in the bathroom to make the adequate
preparations. Then she walked carefully with small tense steps
into class and sat primly in her seat on one side of the room.
Tommy sat next to her. He was a sophomore but a cute one with his
perpetually mussed MTV-ish hair and slim but wiry build and best
of all he put no stock in the reverend's talk of sins and vices.
Mary slouched and squirmed in her seat, letting her skirt ride
halfway up her smooth, creamy thighs and spreading them gradually
as Mr. Hardy advanced through the lesson. She'd gotten it down to
a science: fifteen degrees with every new page of the day's
reading. By the time they started the day's quiz the widely
splayed compass of her legs framed a shamelessly reddened,
engorged and lightly furred set of labia toward the front of the
room and the teacher's feigned nonchalance.
"Mary, do you have a pen I could borrow?" Tommy's innocent voice
interrupted her reverie.
"Sure" Mary intoned, playing her part in an act they'd repeated
numerous times while keeping her gaze locked on Mr. Hardy. Her
hand slipped down casually. To most observers it would look as
though she were reaching for her skirt's pocket, but from the
front of the class the nimble fingers could be seen to dip
beneath its waistband instead, reappearing between her legs to
pluck at a little plastic cap. The hand then extracted the smooth
plastic pen from where it had nested inside her vulva for half
the period and passed it sideways to Tommy, making several people
nearby sniff curiously at the smell of pussy in the air.
"Thanks" replied the boy, smiling and beginning to lick and
suckle thoughtfully at the dripping plastic tube as he eyed the
questions on his quiz.
After such a performance she was sure she had Mr. Hardy locked
down. Five minutes between classes weren't much but plenty for
the properly motivated. She fingered the loose cigarette, almost
taking it out to pretend to drop it so Mr. Hardy could catch her,
then rapidly shoved it back among her notebooks at the sight of
Mrs. Drycave, the principal, looming past the door, apparently
having come to exchange words with him. Nope! Nope, nope, nope,
that would never do. Of all the stupid luck! Bitterly, she
stalked off to her last class of the day. This was history, and
nobody so much of thought of fun with Mrs. Tanner around. Mary
kept her skirt down and legs virginally crossed for the entire
duration the shriveled old bat, born and raised five miles away
and always proudly bragging she'd never gone farther than Boise,
droned on about World War II for the hundredth time and finally
breathed a sigh of relief at the last bell of the day, hurrying
out the door. If she could get to the far end of the parking lot
before the teachers drove out she still had one chance.
She eyed her competition. Daisy had staked out the front
entrance, probably waiting for the biology teacher. A couple of
girls were taking their chances with the gym exit and the main
parking lot exit. Mary took up position behind the little
maintenance shed at the side road. She let three cars roll by
before spotting the green compact Chevy and quickly sparking up
her cigarette, coughing a bit with the first puff. She leaned
against the shed, trying to look demure and self-assured. Truth
be told she hated the stupid noxious little sticks but they sent
an unambiguous signal to the well-informed. The car slowed and
slid into a parking lot near the exit. Adam Eden the biology
teacher stepped out and fixed her with a stern authoritarian
gaze, making Mary's stomach quiver with visions of her near
future. Or maybe that was the damn tobacco smoke. She guiltily
tossed the cigarette down and stomped it out.
"Oh, miss Mincy. You know very well smoking is against the rules,
don't you?"
"Yes, sir." She answered meekly, eyes downcast, twisting little
circles in the gravel with one sneaker and making her dark bangs
wobble playfully before her face.
"I'm afraid we're going to have to have a little chat about this,
Mary." He motioned her back inside the building. On the way to
his office they passed Mr. Hardy with his arm around tall blonde
Daisy who tossed a cigarette butt into a metal trash can with a
dramatic flourish.
"Was she smoking again?" Mr. Hardy cocked his head in
surprisingly believable disparagement.
"Yes, I'm afraid she was. Caught her red-handed."
"Why, this one too! Seems to be more and more popular these days,
despite those TV ads."
"Terrible thing."
"Yes, terrible thing."
Both men nodded gravely and led the slim, innocent churchgoing
small-town schoolgirls into their respective offices and locked
their doors.
"Now, Mary" Adam intoned with the utmost seriousness as he began
undoing his shirt "you do remember our discussion in last year's
biology class as to the hazards of tobacco, don't you?"
"Oh, yes, sir, of course I do" Mary nodded vigorously,
dexterously slipping her own top off to reveal small, pert twin
handfuls of tit boasting long, thin nipples. He reached out and
yanked them gently until she winced then proceeded to unbuckle
his belt.
"In addition to the risk of cancer -"
"Cancer, yes Mr. Eden" Mary stared him bashfully in the eyes as
she caressed his chest. He had just the right amount of hair for
her tastes, much more than Tommy or John but not as much as coach
Woodrow's thick scratchy thatch.
"- it may also stunt your growth."
"Terrible sir, I know." She turned her back to him and shimmied
off her skirt, revealing her sleekly curving hips and perfectly
rounded buttocks. She was, and she knew it damn well, a smoking
hot piece of ass.
"How many times did I catch your last year, Mary?" he asked as he
dropped his briefs, Mary's eyeballs wobbling hungrily at the
sight of his thick prick bouncing before her.
"Five times, Mr. Eden."
"Five times." His powerful hands mauled her breasts and they
kissed for a minute then pulled apart again. "Why do you think
that is?"
Mary fished the little bottle of oil from her pack, bent over his
desk spreading her legs and began dripping the viscous fluid
gradually from her tailbone down. The delicate, dripping, wide
open pink flower of her pussy spread deliciously before him.
Unfortunately, no medical practice within a hundred mile radius
would sell birth control pills and buying too many condoms raised
eyebrows, so other solutions had been found.
"I think, sir" she intoned in a little girl voice, looking at him
out of the corner of her eye as she caught the trickles of oil
with a middle finger and slithered it gently into her anus "I
think I'm just addicted to silky, cylindrical objects." For
emphasis she reached back to his muscular form towering behind
her prostrate backside and fingered her way up the thick thighs,
cradling his hairy nutsack for a second before gripping the thick
(oh, so thick, she shivered in anticipation) shaft and leveling
it at her own tiny, wrinkled, oily rosebud. His hands, still
smelling of formaline despite having been vigorously washed,
snaked under her chest to grip and knead her little B-cup cones
(not that she bothered wearing such cups most days) and brace her
for the pressure of his bulbous cock-head forcing its way
millimeter by millimeter against the protesting young orifice
which evolution had accidentally fitted to dual purpose.
Seconds later, Mary grunted and remembered to breathe, panting
heavily as the crown of his cockhead finally popped inside her
outer sphincter. One hand shot out to her backpack and handed her
phone back to him.
"Picture. I want a picture of it!"
Adam shook his head, slightly miffed at the interruption.
"You kids and these phones, I swear."
The absurdly fake shutter sound clicked off the walls of the
quiet office, followed by a slight whimper from Mary as his
twitching meat began its inexorable invasion of her nether
regions. Still bracing herself against the desk with one hand,
she slid the free one down below herself to begin massaging her
clit and vulva, trying very hard to disbelieve the sensation of
having her round cleft peach split completely in two by such
intrusion. Now experienced after over a year of such encounters,
she squeezed the little circular ring of muscle against him,
hearing him catch his breath at the ecstatic massaging motion. He
pulled out then slowly pressed in a little deeper, inch by inch
and thrust by thrust until his pubic hair finally flattened
against her youthful buttocks' perfect firm curvature. Another
shutter click and he tossed the phone back into her bookbag then
set to humping in a rapidly increasing tempo.
It wasn't long before Mary came, her fingers squelching in and
out of her not so virginal teenage cunt and dripping pussy juice
along the side of her teacher's desk as he hunched masterfully
over her, pressing her torso into his desk and digging his
fingers into her tiny little teats while sodomizing her with
abandon. She regained her breath and began humping her hips back
against him, picking up the pace and reveling in every minute
twitch and pulse of his shaft dragging deliciously in and out, in
and out of her squeezing seventeen year old anus until finally
she was rewarded with a hard thrust that almost knocked the wind
out of her and the feeling of jet after jet of steaming hot
liquid splattering up into her bowels. They rested a bit still
coupled then he slurped his softening prick out of her ass and
they both wet-wiped away the outer traces of their sin.
"Now, Mary, don't let me catch you smoking that butt again, you
hear me?" He chucked his adolescent paramour under the chin,
marveling at the innocence in her dainty, flawless face framed by
those long girlish dark bangs.
"Oh, yes Mr. Eden sir" she intoned coyly, pouting a bit and thus
prompting a little peck on the lips. "I've learned my lesson, and
good."
In truth, she would have to wait another week at least before
pushing her luck again and getting herself caught. Other girls
would have their fun in the meantime and rumor had it boys were
beginning to buy cigarettes and hang around Miss Clearwater's
route through the halls after classes. But eventually she'd come
in early and manage to get herself in the way of Mr. Long's
mathematically precise yardstick.
Out in the hall she only had to pace a minute before she was
joined by Daisy, walking a bit awkwardly and stiffly just as she
herself was and still looking flushed and sweaty.
"Oh, God, that is as thick as I remember it" Daisy commented on
the two pictures of Mr. Eden's cock splitting Mary's anus open
and then buried to the hilt up her friend's ravished young ass.
"I should've asked Mr. Hardy to snap a picture or two. I think
that curved monster of his rearranged my kidneys."
As they opened the door they almost panicked at the sight of
Reverend Pokely and Mrs. Tanner chatting amicably by the school
gate. The girls rapidly fished around in their packpacks and
slung thin golden crucifixes around their necks, nodding politely
at the two disciplinarians as they passed them. Reverend Pokely
nodded back but gave no trouble to these two innocent lambs of
his flock jaunting into the sunset each with a symbol of
piousness beating against her breasts and a fresh load of sperm
sloshing inside her rectum, courtesy of that fine institution
S.M. King Buttes High.

***

The next day they were having lunch when a sophomore girl asked
to sit by their table. Curly-haired, slightly plump but in all
the right places and already blessed with a rack that would make
most movie actresses envious. After a glance and a noncommittal
common shrug of approval they allowed her to sit. By the end of
the lunch period they'd discovered the girl had few inhibitions
about her sex life and found the social climate of their town
increasingly stuffy. Grinning, Mary searched through her bookbag,
extricated a single cigarette and rolled it under her palm across
the table at the younger student.
"Okay" she half-whispered conspiratorially. "Here's what you
do..."