6TAD Chapter 1085: Alan, don't you want to be my boyfriend? (Patreon)

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As Alan walked down the hall on his way to Glory's history class, he  felt a hand fall onto his forearm. He spun around and tried to defend  himself, instantly assuming that the football players were out to hurt  him again.

But he breathed a sigh of relief because it was only  Christine. She'd jogged down the hall to reach him; it looked like she  was dealing with something very important and urgent. "Alan. I have  someone you should meet."

Alan thought that was odd. He also found himself very  embarrassed on the inside when he looked at the real flesh and blood  Christine and thought about the over the top sexual fantasies he'd had  about her only a few minutes earlier. As he stared, he could almost  picture her naked, with his erection sliding through her deep cleavage.  He stood dumbly, feeling greatly ashamed for his fantasies. It was like a  cold bucket of reality had been dumped on his head.

"Cat got your tongue?" Christine asked as she held him by the  forearm and pulled him along, gently. "Come on. Do you want to meet  this person now or what?"

Alan's eyes watched her twin globes heave up and down in  response to her jogging. When they finally came to a halt, he recovered  his wits. "Oh. Uh. Sure. Let's go."

Christine was both secretly amused and chagrined by his  big-tit fixation. She decided not to say anything about it this time  though, since she was in a hurry.

He followed behind as Christine rushed down the hallway.  While she'd worn a frumpy gray dress in his dreams, in reality she wore  ordinary black slacks. He admired her legs, but more from what he  remembered in the dream than what he could tell through her clothes.

He thought to himself, Christine, would it kill you to  wear shorts for once in your life? Outside of when you play sports or go  running you seem to think there's some law against baring your legs.  And I know from stolen glances here and there that they look great. In  fact, I'll bet her thighs are even stronger than Simone's! Man, I'd love  to see these two in a cat fight! Whoa, take it easy, boy. Stop thinking  about sex for like five minutes already! He stared at her slacks as if trying to burn a hole through them.

Christine turned back and asked him, "What's with you today?  You've been spacing all day." She had to have been unaware of the  staring he'd just been doing, unless she had eyes on the back of her  head, and he guessed she was referring to all the other times he'd  spaced out.

"I dunno. Not enough sleep today." He thought, Like I  could ever tell her the truth: "I dunno Christine, it could be that I  can't stop thinking about fucking your tits. And popping your cherry.  Oh, and in my dreams my mother seems to be selling 'Incest-O-Matic',  whatever the heck that is, and I might have made Simone pregnant, and my  sister thinks she's a cat, and I'm about to have a wild sex orgy poker  party tonight, and I seem to be losing what's left of my moral  bearings... Oh, and did I mention that I'm fucking my mother and my  sister, and that I now have two of each? Basically, there's a lot on my  mind!" I don't think there's a single person who would believe what's  happening in my life, even if I told them the full truth.

There wasn't much point in talking while they hustled down  the hallway, so they were silent until suddenly Christine made a sharp  turn and Alan found himself at the same stretch of empty hall he'd used  to talk to Sean earlier. He didn't see anyone at first, but Christine  led him to an alcove. A slightly mousy and bespectacled girl stood there  waiting for him.

Christine brought Alan right in front of the new girl. "Alan,  Michelle. Michelle, Alan. Michelle helps me get the scoop on things at  school. She's got something to tell you."

Alan had no idea what to expect, but after so much  strangeness in his life, he was ready to roll with the punches. He  assumed it would somehow involve sex, given everything else that was  happening, but for once he was wrong about that.

Michelle started in, "Um, okay. I've got this brother. His  name is Gary. He's on the football team. I'm not that close to him. He  and I are really different. But we're still family. Anyway, I was really  surprised today when he sees me in the hall and he's all super keen on  talking to me in private. So we talk... Are you getting all this? You  look a little out of it."

"No. I'm good. Please keep going. I'm very interested."

"Um, okay. He tells me that some of the other football  players are planning something. Did I mention Gary is gay? He is. He  doesn't mind telling anyone, even though he gets a lot of grief from all  the homophobes around here. Anyway, they're planning to do something to  you. And somehow they wanted Gary to do something sexual to you. I  didn't really understand it all. He was very, very vague. I kind of even  inferred that much. He definitely doesn't want to do whatever they're  doing, even though he hates your guts-"

"Wait a minute. Why does he hate my guts?"

"Duh! Just about everybody on the team hates your guts."

"Really? Why?"

Michelle turned to Christine, who still stood next to them  and generally kept a lookout while listening in. "Boy, Christine, didn't  you tell him anything?"

Christine answered while she stared down the hall, "As you  can see by looking at his frazzled face, lately he often doesn't even  know if he's coming or going, much less what some football player he's  never met thinks of him."

Michelle looked at Alan curiously while he tried to wipe  whatever expression he had off his face and replace it with a normal  look. She continued, "Anyway, nobody thought much of you one way or  another until you started to go out with Amy. Then people thought that  was pretty impressive, since most everyone thought you were a virgin and  many think she's the most attractive girl in school, or at least the  cutest. Then Amy started telling everyone that you were a great lover  and that you slept with pretty much anyone you wanted and she didn't  care."

She continued, "A lot of people were really impressed with  you for like five minutes, but that quickly turned to jealousy for most.  Especially guys. The football players hate you in particular because  they know that you sleep with Heather a lot and she used to sleep with  at least half the team, and now all of a sudden she doesn't anymore. So  it's like twenty jealous boyfriends spurned, all out for revenge. Plus,  everyone seems to think you have a ten-inch penis, even though it's  really just a shade under eight. And a lot of guys are very jealous  about that, too."

Alan looked at Christine. "How does she know all that? Especially that last part. That's very private!"

Christine gave a wry, conspiratorial smile. "She's good. But listen to the rest of her story."

She smirked, thinking, It's true; he just confirmed it!  Eight inches! Statistically speaking, that's very impressive. He's such a  relentless horndog. I bet I'm going to end up touching it one of these  days, if only to get him to stop pestering me!

Alan turned back to the mousy but not unattractive Michelle.  (Between her dark glasses and her extremely baggy clothing, it was hard  to tell what she really looked like.) He realized that in making that  "very private" comment, he'd all but confessed the true length of his  dick, but it was too late to take that back.

He thought, It's not a big deal if anyone knows, but I'm not being my usual sharp self today. Focus, man, focus!

Michelle said, "Um, okay. So Gary really doesn't want to take  part in whatever plan this is. They're going to go ahead without him.  Even though he hates you, he doesn't want their plan to succeed. I think  they're going to do something else involving homosexuality and he  worries it'll reflect badly on him. Most of those players are so  homophobic it's not even funny, and he naturally doesn't want it to get  any worse if they witness homosexual acts firsthand."

"So he's going to help us stop them?" Alan asked hopefully.

"No. Not really. I'm sure he doesn't want his friends to  think he's a snitch. I think he was trying to give me just enough  information so I could do something to make sure the plan doesn't work,  but not enough information to get his friends in trouble. I've saved his  ass many times in the past and he thinks I can do it again."

"So wait. He knows you're talking to me?"

"No. He would probably be really angry at me if he knew about  that. He was more coming to me for advice, trying to figure out how to  get out of the jam he's in. He calls me a 'sharp cookie.' But he didn't  really give me enough info for me to figure out what's going on. Does  any of this make sense to you? Have you heard of some plot against you?"

"No. Well, in a general way I've known some of the guys on  the team are out to get me. They've attacked me a couple of times, which  I assume you might have heard about, since you know so much. But I  never thought they'd go to the extreme of wanting to do... well,  whatever it is they're doing. I don't know. But it doesn't sound good at  all! Did he tell you anything else?"

"Nope. That's it. He didn't even tell me that much. He was  more like, 'I've got this problem. Some football players want to use me  to help get back at Alan. I don't care a rat's ass about that freakish  nerd, but I don't want to help in the way they want me to. What do I  do?' Those were pretty much his exact words. I inferred most of the rest  and added what I already knew about you and him and his friends."

"Wow. Thanks, Michelle. Thanks a lot. Is there anything I can do to repay you for helping me out so much?"

There was a long pause, but finally Michelle just smiled and said, "Nope. Just be cool and stay safe. Watch your back."

"Okay. I will. Thanks again!"

"No problem!" Michelle waved, adjusted her glasses, then trotted off.

Alan mumbled to Christine, "So that's one of your team of 'Goody-goodies,' eh?"

In his mind, some dialogue from his dream ran though his head. First, his cry: "I'm going to re-coat your face with a fresh new load!" And then Christine's reply: "Do it! I love it!"

He wanted to crawl under a rock and die even as he failed to  get the image of her face splattered with cum out of his mind. The sight  of her mouth straining around his dream-enhanced, extra-huge penis also  seemed permanently burned into his brain, even though it never happened  in real life. If she only knew I'm a complete sexually-obsessed freak, she would run away from me as fast as her legs could carry her!

Christine visibly relaxed once Michelle was gone. She stayed  where she was, looking down the hallway, but said to Alan, "I think  we're okay. I didn't see a single person looking down the hallway."

"Well, if there could have been problems if someone saw me with Michelle, why didn't we meet in a safer location?"

"Because there's no time! Michelle is good at reading people,  as you can tell. And she got the sense that something is going to  happen really soon. Maybe even later today."

"Oh shit. What should I do?"

Christine looked him in the eyes. "I've noticed that the  number of your male friends has fallen off to almost zero lately, and  all of them are just fair weather friends except for Sean and maybe  Peter. So I'm going to follow you around as much as I can. Get Amy and  Katherine to help, too. Actually, it's much better to have females with  you, because other guys they can punch, but girls they won't know what  to do with. Hopefully they have some decency and the presence of a  female may give them second thoughts. Plus, us girls are really good at  screaming for help." She smiled as she added that last point.

He smiled in gratitude, but then the full meaning of  everything she said hit him. "Wow, you don't pull your punches, do you?  That's pretty harsh about my male friends."

"Hey, I call them as I see them," she replied with a shrug. "Don't you want me to be honest with you?"

He thought, I don't even want to begin to imagine how many  new holes she'd tear into me if I told her about my titfucking fantasy.  She may have a thing for me, but I'm sure her fantasies are nothing  like mine! He thought sarcastically, Her fantasies probably have a  little more of candles and moonlight and soft music, and a little less  of titfucking on a desk in front of all your classmates.

Snapping back to attention, he nodded.

She said, "You're a sitting duck! You need protection, unless  you want to get your butt kicked. You need somebody to help you who has  serious fighting ability."

He stood there trying to figure out who that could be.

Annoyed at his inability to draw the obvious conclusion, she  added, "For instance, someone with some serious martial arts training."

A light bulb went off in his head. "Hey. If I remember right, don't you take martial arts classes a couple of times a week?"

She gave a bashful yet proud smile. "Yeah. I guess I do." Finally, he figures it out. Sheesh! I swear, his IQ falls by half around busty women.

Then, dramatically, she stepped back and kicked the air a  couple of times. He thought it was a highly impressive display of  martial arts prowess. One of her kicks was so high that it could have  smashed his nose.

He imagined several very stunned football players falling to  the ground after being on the receiving end of kicks like that. He was  also impressed with the fierce passion with which she delivered the  kicks, a passion that seemed to come out of nowhere and then disappeared  just as quickly when the kicks were over.

She turned back to him and said with a casual smile, "Looks like you've got yourself a bodyguard."

"Looks like." He smiled back. "God, Christine, you're a total  lifesaver. That may even become true in a very literal way if I get  attacked. You and your remarkably knowledgeable and perceptive friends!  Amazing. 'We're good at screaming for help,' my ass! I want to know just  one thing, though. How did Michelle know about my real penis size, and  just how widespread is that knowledge?"

"That was actually from Kim the cheerleader. A bunch of girls  were sitting around gossiping about your supposed ten-incher, and she  said, 'No, it's not! It's only seven and seven-eighths inches.' That  seemed curiously specific, and I understand she seemed embarrassed  afterwards for letting that slip out, so one of my friends told me about  it and I filed it away as being the probable truth. Statistically, it's  much, much more likely than the larger number. But most everyone still  seems to believe the ten-incher rumor."

She abruptly switched topics. "As an aside, you do seem to  have a lot of, how shall we say, intimate friends, don't you? Just how  many of these 'helpers' have you got?"

He blushed. He was surprised at how often he'd blushed that day. It just seemed to be one of those days. I  knew she was notorious for speaking her mind, but I didn't realize that  even extended to talking so freely about the size of my dick. And my  "intimate friends." Jesus! Talking to her is actually a bit scary  because there's no telling what she might say next. AND it looks like  she could totally physically kick my ass. I sure don't want to cross  her!

He ignored her last question and replied to the first one.  "Yeah. I guess I do. Thanks again. How can I repay you for your  kindness?" He was so frazzled and busy thinking that he didn't even  notice she had her hand over her mouth and was blushing profusely.

She had a bad habit of speaking first and only realizing the  consequences of her words later. She could scarcely believe that she was  actually talking to Alan about his penis size and eagerly leapt at his  changing of the subject. She shook her head dismissively while looking  away. "Stop saying that. You ever hear of people just being nice because  it's the right thing to do and because they care?"

"Unfortunately, not too often. But in your case, I could never doubt your sincerity. So what do we do now, chief?"

"You hurry to your next class. I hear you've been doing that a  lot today, and not always successfully, I might add. When class is  over, just linger in your classrooms for a minute or so, and I'll be  there to escort you to the next one. I can't always make it, but when I  can't we'll find you a substitute or two. Actually, Sean is fairly buff;  he's almost as muscular and handsome as you. He'd make a good  bodyguard, so you should get his help. Sorry if I harshed on your  friends, by the way." She still tried to hide her face and her  embarrassment.

He thought, She knows I was late to first period and that I  was talking to people in the halls and barely making it to class on  time. Just how much else does she know about me?! Could she even be  aware of what I was doing to Heather and Simone before school? She's got  this whole friggin' "Goody-goody" spy network. Dang! That network could  definitely be a double-edged sword for me. What if they overhear my  loose-lipped sisters make some kind of incestuous comment to each other  or to someone in-the-know like Kim, and word gets back to Christine? I  don't even want to think about it.

He also made note of the way she dropped the "handsome" compliment in there. She's  blunt and yet she can be subtle, too. I can't say I really understand  her, but I sure would like to get to know her better. Making love to the  real Christine would be infinitely more interesting than making love to  the meek living-sex-doll version of Christine in my daydreams. Shame on  me for ever thinking of her like that.

But he merely said to her, "No problem. Thanks. Again. Wow.  You're great." Without even thinking, he gave her a hug. But just as  unexpectedly, he pulled away.

She shot him a frustrated look that he interpreted to mean, Then why, Alan, don't you want to be my boyfriend?

He didn't know how to respond to that, so the two of them  warily headed to his next class. He had visions of getting gang raped by  a bunch of football players who could leap out at him from the shadows  at any moment. There was an attack coming, and there really was nothing  anyone could do to stop it until it happened. It was almost worse to  know a little than to know nothing at all. For the first time in his  life, he was truly afraid.