Chubby Chaser

by Kahoko Yamada

  Sara had never disobeyed a teacher before, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to hold it in until the end of class, and she didn’t want to give her enemies the satisfaction of seeing her suffer anymore. So she ran for it, and several strides later, she involuntarily expelled the contents of her bowel, but she kept running. Behind her she could hear the entire class laughing.

  That day was the last time Sara had eaten in public. It was also the last time she had ever tried to befriend anyone.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  It had been two weeks since the start of school, and so far, everything had been going great for Jason: he had led the Tallis Eagles to victory during their first game of the season, he had obtained a homecoming-king nomination, and the weather had cooled down enough to allow him and the rest of the guys on the football team to wear their blue-and-white letterman jackets.

  He still wasn’t enjoying the school part of school though: all the teachers had such a bland way of teaching that it was next to impossible to pay attention to them. The last time he’d had a teacher that had fun with lessons was in eighth grade when he had taken Mrs. Weinstock’s history class. It had been great. He had never had to open a book but had still managed to learn from all the awesome projects Mrs. Weinstock had had the students do and all the cool field trips she had taken her classes on. They didn’t make teachers like that anymore.

  Now, they made them like Mr. Henderson, his punctilious AP calculus teacher, who rigidly followed the book and whose class Jason, Eric, and Andy were in. They sat in the back, so they could talk and make fun of people.

  “That bitch is such a know-it-all.” Eric was talking about Sara Krason, a fat-ass blob of a girl sitting in the front of the class, answering most of Mr. Henderson’s questions and correcting anybody who dared to answer incorrectly. She had a reputation for being a major bitch. Andy had told them she had acted like a vile cunt when she had come through his lane a couple of weeks ago at Harold’s.

  “Yeah, too bad she can’t use all her smarts to figure out how to lose some weight,” Jason joked. All three chuckled.

  “Hey, fat girls need love too,” opined Andy. “Besides, I’ve always wondered what it’s like to fuck a chubby chick.”

  “Ew! Man, you’re disgusting.” Jason was playing, although he really did find fat girls repulsive. “But if you really wanna know what’s it’s like to bone a fat chick, why don’t you go for it? Sara’s right there for the taking. I mean, it’s not like she’s got any other guys beating down her door.”

  “Uh-uh.” Andy shook his head. “There’s no way that fat bitch is giving it up.”

  “I could get it,” Jason boasted. He could never resist taking on a challenge or a bet.

  “Bullshit,” said Eric.

  “I bet ya’ll two hundred I could get it.”

  “Deal. You have until the end of the marking period. And you have to get her panties for proof or record it. I hope you record it. That way we can see this epic car crash for ourselves.”

  The three of them dapped on it.

  The bell rang. Everyone began to clear out.

  Jason saw Sara getting up to leave. He turned to his friends and smiled. “Watch and learn, bros.” He chased Sara as she left, calling her name, but she didn’t turn around. She can’t be ignoring me. He raced to get in front of her. He put on his player smile. “Hey, Sara, right?”

  “Uh-huh,” she said curtly while not even looking at him. He could see drops of sweat on her forehead. She tried to go around him, but he blocked her way.

  “I’m Jason.” He put his hand out to shake. She didn’t take it.

  “Did you want something?” she asked. She had an annoyed look on her pudgy face.

  “I . . . I need your help with calculus. See, I’m only pulling a C, and I need to get it up to at least a B to keep my scholarship to SCU, and you’re such a math whiz, and I know you tutor other kids, so I thought you could tutor me.” He shrugged and smiled in an effortlessly adorable way that would’ve made most girls and sexually confused boys melt; Sara, however, remained ice cold.

  “Okay. Meet me at 232 Pilstine Drive an hour after school—”

  “I have football practice on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays until six.”

  Irritated, she sighed. “Okay, then meet me Tuesdays and Thursdays an hour after school. My tutoring sessions last an hour. Don’t be late and be ready to work.”

  “Thank you.” He nodded and smiled. “Can I have your phone number in case—”

  “Jason, we go to school together, we have a class together, and in case you haven’t noticed, it’s the one you need help with. If you need to tell me something, you can do it sometime during school.” She walked away.

  Jason stood there, taken aback: no girl had ever treated him that way—at least not before he had failed to return her calls or she had caught him cheating. This was going to be harder than he had thought, but he did love a challenge.

  CHAPTER SIX

  “We watched, but we didn’t learn anything, Obi-Wan.” Eric had come up behind Jason.

  “Sure we did. We learned how to get shot down by fat chicks.” Andy had arrived as well.

  “Okay, first of all, she didn’t shoot me down, and second, you don’t get a girl like that just like that.” He snapped his fingers. “She’s a fat girl, she’s probably been teased for a minute about it, and has her walls up, but I’ll break ’em down. Come on, it’s time for practice.”

  Coach Logan started practice with a highlight reel of the opposing team’s games. Coach Logan liked to start every Monday’s practice this way, so he could decide what they needed to focus on to defeat that week’s opponent.

  This week Tallis was competing against the Culver Rangers. The Culver Rangers excelled in defensive plays and were fond of using blitz attacks to take out the quarterback, so the coach had them work on a few plays to counteract this. The first was a trick play called offensive blitz: Jason would quickly throw the ball to Andy to take the heat off himself, and then Jason, now unencumbered, would run down the other side of the field. Andy would then throw the ball back to him, and Jason would go for a touchdown. The second play was dual quarterbacks: Trey would join Jason on the field to confuse the defense about how the play would develop and which quarterback would be passing the ball. The third play was sight adjustment: the wide receivers would run into the spots the players rushing Jason vacated, and Jason would throw the ball to one of the wide receivers before he was tackled, allowing the receiver who caught the ball a chance to score a touchdown or to at least gain more yardage.

  Football practice not only helped Jason prepare for this week’s game but it also proved to be one hell of an aphrodisiac: while showering, he felt his dick throbbing and aching for release. He was going to handle it himself right then and there, but then he had a better idea.

  He called Emily immediately after he finished showering. He hadn’t seen or spoken to her in a while, so he bet she’d be thrilled to hear from him.

  “Hello?” she answered.

  “It’s me, baby. What you doing?”

  “Nothing.”

  Jason detected a hint of bitterness in her tone. “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah, everything’s fine. I just—never mind.”

  Thank God. The last thing he wanted to do was hear about her day. “Mind if I come over?”

  “Come over?” Bitterness had seeped into her voice again.

  “Yeah, I miss you. I feel like I haven’t seen you since school started.”

  “That’s because you haven’t.”

  “Let me come over, and I’ll make it up to you.”

  Emily didn’t say anything. For a minute, Jason feared he had lost his touch.

  “Give me half an hour,” she purred.

  “Okay.” He hung up, smiling; he hadn’t lost a thing.

  Jason made it to Emily’s house exactly half an hour later. Normally, he liked to keep girls waiting, but he was so horny that he decided to skip that rule. He swagg
ered up to the front door of Emily’s ranch-style home, a sexy smile on his face, and rang the doorbell.

  “Hi, baby.” Emily answered the door, wearing a pink-and-black bra-and-thong set.

  Jason became hard in an instant. He moved to enter the home, but Emily put a hand out to stop him.

  “Before you come in, I wanted to let you know I invited a friend over. Is that okay?” She smiled seductively and stroked his forearm.

  Jason broke into a grin: A threesome? She was offering him a threesome? Hell yeah, that was okay! There’s not a man on Earth who wouldn’t think that was okay. “Is she cute?”

  “Oh, I bet you’d think so. In fact, I know you already do.”

  Jason looked at her: her statement had nonplussed him. Someone pulled the front door back. Holy shit! It was Amanda! She had a glass of brown-colored liquid in her hand.

  “I—” Jason started.

  “Can explain?” Amanda finished his sentence for him.

  “Well, don’t bother,” Emily snarled. “We already figured it out.”

  Amanda threw the brown liquid on him. The pungent, sour smell of vinegar filled his nostrils as the fluid dripped down his face. Jason quickly took off his letterman jacket and inspected it for any traces of vinegar: all clear. The girls shut the door in his face, giggling. Fucking bitches! Jason hit the door in anger then walked away. He should’ve known it had been a trap; he had heard how angry Emily had been on the phone. At least he had gotten a good glimpse of her in her bra and thong. That was definitely going in the spank bank.

  Jason placed his letterman jacket in the backseat of his car. He then removed his shirt, and used it to wipe the vinegar from his face, but the stench remained on him. Another shower was definitely in order when he got home.

  He took a seat after tossing his vinegar-stained shirt on the passenger floor. The way his jeans moved made him realize that he still had an erection. And that he was still horny. He pushed the lever on the side of his seat to make it recline. His hands worked swiftly to undo the button and zipper on his jeans. At first he simply rubbed his dick through his boxers as the image of Emily in her pink-and-black bra and thong materialized in his mind. God, she was so fucking hot—a lot hotter than Amanda. He was going to make an effort to sort out things with Emily, so she would go to homecoming with him. It was only right, the homecoming king having the hottest girl in school on his arm. Having decided that, his mind went back to Emily in her lingerie. If only she had been for real; if only she had let him in the house. If she had let him in the house, he would’ve brought her down to her knees and fucked her face until she gagged. Precum started to leak from his penis, dampening the front of his boxers. He pulled his dick out and stroked it vigorously as he fantasized about putting Emily on all fours, ripping her thong off, and roughly fucking her from behind. Her imaginary moans every time he made a thrust further stoked his arousal. He stroked himself faster, faster, faster! His ejaculate landed on his chest and ran down his stomach.

  Jason sat in his car in a state of bliss, his breathing returning to normal. Masturbating wasn’t as good as the real thing, but it got the job done. And it was better than nothing. He sat for a few more minutes, enjoying the afterglow of his orgasm, then put himself back in his boxers, zipped his jeans, and drove home.

  Jason came into the dining room after taking a shower. The dining room was large and had a long black-marble table in the middle that seated fifteen people. Jason’s parents had bought it to accommodate their work parties, but tonight it would unfortunately be only the three of them. It was unfortunate because without guests there to occupy his attention, Jason’s father would be focusing on him, and his father, without fail, focused on the very few things Jason did wrong instead of focusing on the multitude of things he did right.

  Marietta, their housekeeper, made meatloaf covered with bacon and cheese, green beans with white potatoes, and mashed potatoes with gravy for dinner. Jason had barely managed to get a few bites down his throat before his father jumped down it.

  “Why haven’t you gotten a job yet? I could’ve sworn I told you a few weeks ago to get a job.” His father’s tone was scathing. His father’s eyes were probably expressing similar emotions, but Jason wasn’t strong enough to look at them. “I asked you a question.” His father polished off what Jason guessed was his fifth tumbler of whiskey for the evening.

  “I can’t get a job. I already told you I’m way too busy with football and homecoming and stuff.”

  “Football? Homecoming? Jason—”

  “Arthur—” His mother tried to intervene.

  “Just a minute, honey,” his father said, and then he turned his attention back to Jason. “Jason, football and homecoming might seem like a big deal now, but they won’t matter in the long run.”

  “And some part-time job I probably won’t even remember ten years from now will?”

  “It’s not about the job itself. Having the job will teach you responsibility, give you work experience, and prepare you for a real career.”

  “But I’m already learning all that stuff from football, and I plan on doing that for my career.”

  His father laughed contemptuously. “Do you have any idea how difficult it is to succeed in college football, let alone the NFL?”

  “No, and considering you’ve never played a sport a day in your life, neither do you.”

  His father glared at him, making Jason wish he had said nothing at all. “Who the hell do you think you are talking to, you spoiled, weak, lazy, ungrateful idiot? Do you think you can talk to me any old kind of way, huh?” His father stood, and Jason followed suit, bracing himself for a fight.

  “Arthur—” His mother tried to grab his father’s arm but was too slow. Jason’s father rushed him and threw a barrage of punches at him. Jason was able to block the first punch, but the next two connected with his jaw and knocked him to the floor. Arthur climbed on top of Jason to continue his vicious assault and battery.

  “Did you think I’d let you get away with talking to me like that? Don’t you ever talk to me like that again! Do you hear me, you pathetic, good-for-nothing bastard? Never again!”

  “Arthur! Arthur, stop! You’re gonna kill him!” Jason heard his mother say, as another punch connected with his face. His father stopped hitting him, his mother’s pleas having persuaded him to grant Jason a reprieve.

  “You’re gonna get a job, boy. You can piss and moan out of your marrow and bones all you want to, but I’m gonna make you get a job if it’s the last thing I do.”

  “Jason, go upstairs, now!” his mother commanded, and Jason was quick to obey.

  Jason barreled into his bathroom, slamming the door shut. He wanted to cry, but he wouldn’t permit himself to do so (only girls and fags cried). He pounded the bathroom door with his fist a couple of times instead to get the rage out. His father was such a dick. He hated him. He hated him so much that sometimes he wished that his father were dead.

  There was a knock at the door. “It’s me, honey,” his mother said.

  “Come in.”

  His mother came in, an ice pack in her hand. “I thought you could use this. For your jaw.” She handed him the ice pack.

  Jason gingerly placed the ice pack on his sore jaw, the coldness of it dulling the throbbing pain where his father had repeatedly hit him.

  “I wish the two of you would just get along.”

  “It’s not my fault he’s always coming at me foul. You saw what happened at dinner.”

  “Yes, and you didn’t exactly help the situation with your smart remark, now did you? And your father did have some good points: you’re not very responsible, you don’t know what it’s like to truly work, and you can’t rely on football as a career.”

  “Not that you or Dad would know, but I’m actually one of the best high-school quarterbacks in the country.”

  “And how many others have been one of the best high-school quarterbacks in the country? How many of them have actually made it to the pro level?�
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  “I can not believe you are taking his side!”

  “I’m not taking anyone’s side. I’m just trying to keep peace in the house. Your father means well. He just doesn’t know how to show it. Look, I know football is really important to you, and you wanna focus on it in your last year of school, so I’ll talk to your dad, get him to back off on the job front until football season is over. Sound good?”

  “I guess,” Jason said begrudgingly.

  “I brought you a plate up. I left it on your nightstand. Don’t let it get too cold.”

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  “Your welcome, honey. Don’t forget to bring your plate downstairs and load it into the dishwasher when you’re done.” She left him by himself.

  It was good that his mom was going to talk to his dad about the job situation, but he still didn’t see why he had to get one. His parents alleged that he was irresponsible, that he had never done any real work, but if these things were true, he would’ve never made it as far as he had or been as accomplished as he was in football; however, a part of him felt that maybe his parents were right: He ruled Tallis High, to be sure, but what would happen when he went to SCU? Would he still be great, or would he end up a little fish in a big pond? Would he even be able to make it all the way to the NFL? And if he did, would he be a Brady or a Dilfer?

  Enough of this bullshit! He couldn’t allow negative thinking to bog him down. His parents were just trying to scare him into doing what they wanted him to do. He had always succeeded in the past; he would continue to succeed in the future. There was no challenge he couldn’t meet.

  He pulled his phone out and called Eric. Eric was the perfect palate cleanser after dinner with his parents. Jason would tell him about Emily and Amanda finding out about each other, and they would have a good laugh about it.

  “Hey, it’s Eric. Leave a message.”

  Jason hung up and then called Andy. He wasn’t as much fun to talk to as Eric, but Jason wanted someone to talk to.