Katie Quinn, the Slut

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. 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.

I’ll start off by introducing myself and a few other important characters in this tale. My name is Chris Hollis, and I attend Medford High School in New Hampshire. I wouldn’t call myself popular in school, nor a loner of any kind. 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.

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.

Katie Quinn was the epitome of a “preppy” girl. 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. She spent her entire day either studying, socializing while studying, or studying while socializing. Katie, as it happens, also happened to have one of the most perfect bodies that any man has ever laid eyes on. 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.

This is not even mentioning the aspects of her appearance that were sexual. 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. 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. In addition, her breasts were not unlike her ass; completely and totally perfect in most’s eyes. 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. 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.

To put it simply, Katie Quinn was a goddess. 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.


The only problem was that she was ungettable.


Katie Quinn, as long as anyone could remember, had had one boyfriend, and it had been in sixth grade; nearly 6 years prior to when this story takes place. She had broken up with the lucky boy and from then on, focused purely and completely on her studies. Katie would not date a soul, no matter what. No one knew why; some speculated that she wanted to concentrate on her schoolwork until she secured a position at a top ranked college, but everyone wanted more than anything for her romantic “drout” to come to an end.

It so happens that she was focusing on these very same aspects of her life – school – when this entire ordeal began.

I am able to describe Katie in such detail because I see her every day, in our advanced Chemistry class. She sat inches from me during every lab, and during notetaking. This class, however, would not be like any other. The class began normally; the mid-50’s teacher calling weakly for us to take our seats and begin following out the instructions on the board. Katie and I peered at the instructions and began the procedure; all was normal, until she reached under the lab bench to pull open the drawer, and the contents of her pink backpack were dropped in the cavern under the bench.


Katie scrambled to restore her backpack to normal and I, being a gentleman, kneeled down to help her. It was at this moment, that I laid eyes on the 3 or 4 inches of plastic that would prove to be the catalyst in the happenings of this era of my life. I saw, clear as a bell, 3 or 4 inches of smooth, hot pink plastic sticking like a sore thumb out of one of her binders. The smooth plastic rounded at the end of the piece, in a helmet shape that I could not fail to recognize.

Startled, I reached for a different binder, and Katie snatched up the one with the dildo in it.