Chapter 23 - damn

You've got to be fucking me.

I had been so careful, so intent on playing the long game, and the moment, the very moment I slip up once, just once, I have to deal with this shit.

I was probably being overdramatic. Well, definitely being overdramatic. But I can't imagine anyone being close to thrilled when they find themselves roped into funding an entire back-to-school bash out of their own pocket. Every fluid ounce of booze, every pound of food, all bought and paid for by yours truly.

Why she couldn't have made it easy for me and insisted her guests bring their own booze wasn't beyond me. She wanted to leave nothing up to chance. The siren song of freely flowing alcohol alone guaranteed an incredible turnout.

But, I figured, it could have been worse. I did get out of paying for the weed; Laci already had something worked out with her plug, whoever that was. Still, I was baffled as to how I could have been so careless. Then again, it is difficult to think rationally when you have 190 plus pounds of cheerleader dropout riding your cock.

That was almost enough to make it worth it.

Laci had obviously been playing the long game right alongside me. This plan must have been marinating in her mind for months; she had everything laid out perfectly. All she needed was the cold, hard cash to put everything into motion.

And that's where I came in.

The plan wasn't hard to follow, but goddamn was it expensive. Keeping throngs of soon-to-be seniors stuffed and inebriated for an entire night wasn't cheap, but with a manager's salary, I was the only one who could pull together those resources comfortably. Granted, I wasn't exactly comfortable chunking my wallet, even for the sake of my plump little projects, but I would have agreed to anything while balls deep in Laci's fat, wet pussy. This wasn't the worst thing I could have acquiesced to.

Besides, I was excited to reap the results of my brief moment of surrender.

See, Laci had been wise enough to keep a very scarce social media presence over the summer. As I said, this plan had probably been in the works for a while, maybe even the very moment she realized she had put on a few. So, with her pristine preppy, cheerleader image still intact in the world's eyes, she could leverage her popularity quite easily.

Of course, her entire scheme would have crumbled instantly if any one member of her clique stumbled into the shop, but no self respecting queen bee would be caught dead in a pizza joint. I doubt anyone outside of Laci's coworkers knew she even worked there.

Thus, her indecent descent into gluttony was still under wraps, so naturally any senior worth their salt would be attending the first blowout party of the school year. No one would miss it, and that's what Laci was counting on.

True, her newfound hedonism would be exposed to the whole high school hierarchy, but, knowing Laci, it was obvious she'd get off on the humiliation. Regardless, in her mind, any embarrassment she endured would pale in comparison to Madeline's inevitable ruination. Laci never let me in on the nitty gritty, but I could imagine what Laci had in store to solidify Madeline as the school's permanent piggy.

Every pair of eyes in the school would be lured to Laci's unveiling of her hopelessly fattened friend. No one could resist a wild party, free shit, and the promise of getting totally trashed and, with any luck, laid. Whatever stunt Laci had in mind, the audience would be enormous.

Just theorizing how the night would play out was enough to get me rock hard and ready for a second round with Laci, but I wouldn't make the same mistake twice. If she thought that all she had to do to wrap me around her pudgy fingers was strip down and shake her gut, then I'd be nothing more than her designated errand boy.

She wasn't going to win. I would make sure of that.

Everything seemed to be falling into place for her. I was under her thumb, Madeline was piling on the pounds at a rapid pace, and her months of plotting were soon to become reality. Laci wouldn't have imagined it any other way. After weeks and weeks of watching her lazing in her basement, grinning smugly up at me like the lovechild of Garfield and the Cheshire cat, I knew that she couldn't help but be arrogant.

And that's exactly how I wanted her.

I only needed to keep my head down and play my part until the party. Once Laci was drunk with her absolute victory over Madeline, and with the booze I had to pay for, the opportunity would be perfectly ripe.

There was just one problem.

What the hell was I going to do?