Senior Year Memories Ch. 23

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(Usual Disclaimer Time: Even though this story almost entirely takes place in a high school setting, all the characters in this story are 18 years old or older, and since we’re living in the wide wonderful world of porno-land here, where clichés roam free and things might get a little unrealistic from time to time, please remember it’s all in good fun. This story is highly serialized, and though it’s not 100% necessary to have read the whole story up until this point to enjoy the content of the chapter, it’s definitely advisable to understand some of the ongoing plots.)

(Author’s Note: I know it’s been a long, hard road to get here, but at last the Christmas arc of SYM comes to an end. Thank you all for your patience in this long, strange arc; going forward I’m aiming to have some less complex arcs so I can get chapters out to you sooner. I’d like to again thank MisterWildCard for acting as a second set of eyes on this chapter and for his honest editing and fantastic suggestions, especially for this chapter that had some language I definitely needed to clear up. Please check out his story, “Brooke’s Wild Ride” in Erotic Couplings, as it acts as a canonical side story to Senior Year Memories starring Regan Hills High’s favorite blonde cheerleader.)

Previously, on Senior Year Memories: 18-year-old Ryan Collins’ quest to do something nice for each of the nineteen women he’s had sex with this senior year before Christmas has continued at a swift pace. When Addison Gonzalez called on him to make a sex tape for revenge against her vile ex, Kyle Bowman, Ryan was all too glad to help. His goth girlfriend Josie Wong revealed that she’d be leaving town for a few weeks after Christmas to spend time with a sick family member, but still promised to help Ryan provide cosplayer Mallory Dourif with quality glamour shots. Wanting to make sure he checked Josie off his list before it was too late, Ryan sought out her estranged best friend, emo rocker Mia Roth, and convinced the two to reconnect. Then he had sex with her, because this is that kind of story. Returning home exhausted, Ryan ended his day by exchanging notes through the window with the pretty and mysterious new girl who moved in next door.

With four names remaining on his list for good deeds, will Ryan be able to finish in time for Christmas?

Names Remaining on Ryan’s Christmas List: Jade, Kaitlyn, Nadia, Sophie


I’d been at this for almost a month now, and with only a few days left to do my last few good deeds before Christmas, I was finally seeing a light at the end of the tunnel. I’d spent a lot of money, run myself ragged and had some pretty amazing sex, but with a few days left and still time to screw something up, I was being careful.

Unfortunately, the words “careful” and “Kaitlyn Pruitt” very rarely went together.

As usual when we were together, Kaitlyn and I were in my room, and we were naked. With her tight cheerleader’s body, round ass, DD tits that just begged to be sucked on, and straight, silky black hair, she was a knockout by all definitions. The kind of girl I’d have never dreamed about seriously being with, to be honest. We shouldn’t have been in the same room together, let alone naked in the same room together, and yet here we were. If it weren’t for that fateful tutoring session back in early September when she tried to take a shortcut out of tutoring by offering me a handjob that escalated into so much more, I’d have had a much different year.

To say I owed her a lot would be an understatement, and on any other day I’d have had her on the bed, screaming with pleasure as I gave her every bit of my ten-inch long, thick cock. She loved it, I loved it, we both looked forward to those moments when we’d get to fuck each others’ brains out.

I don’t think she expected that today’s “tutoring” would involve me handing her a hefty multiple choice test, one that I made her take and then graded in front of her. The Kaitlyn I’d started out this experience with would’ve probably been flirting with me, distracting me and trying to play to my sympathies to get some extra points. That I’d seen Kaitlyn completely naked and laid bare, that I knew her as well as I knew any of my other best friends these days, let her know that none of these would work.

While I sat and graded her test, she sat on the edge of the bed looking worried.

Utterly gorgeous and lusciously naked, of course, but worried.

When I finally tallied up her results, I set the test down.

“So, I graded your test…” I said, my voice completely even.

Without even waiting for me to finish, she darted up from the bed angrily. “And I failed, right? I fucking failed your goddamn history test because it’s bullshit, right? It’s bullshit that I’d ever learn anything because I’m not the kind of girl who learns anything, because all I’ve got is a hot body and some slutty skills and that’s all that I’m made for, right? You tried to teach me and I didn’t learn shit about your precious American Revolution or Civil War or New Deal because I can’t learn! I’m stupid and I suck at this and…”

She trailed off, but I illegal bahis could see that she was on the verge of tears. This wasn’t exactly what I intended when I made this test as her Christmas gift, but knowing Kaitlyn this was something that I should’ve expected. She was bright, but had a tendency to underestimate herself as so many others had. I wanted this test to be hard, but also a way of showing how far we’d come in our tutoring sessions together.

That’s why I smiled when I tossed the test onto my bed.

“Ninety-two percent,” I said.

Kaitlyn looked down at it. “You’re joking.”

“I’m not joking,” I said.

She looked down at the test, then flipped through the pages looking for all of my red marks to verify that I had indeed graded her down.

“With the exception of one question I gave an extra point on because I fucked it up while writing it (since this is the first test I’ve ever written), you got ninety-two percent. It’s not quite an AP exam, but I tried to make it close, and you need to brush up more on your Cold War history, but if this were a real test, you’d have gotten an A,” I said.

She looked down at the test, then back at me, then back down at it so she wouldn’t have to look at me. “I bet you’re proud of yourself, aren’t you? Accomplishing the impossible?”

“I’m more proud of you,” I replied. “When Mrs. Lynn first told me I was going to tutor you, I thought you’d be hopeless. When you and I first started for real, I knew you had it in you even when you were fighting me every inch of the way. Somehow, despite your best efforts otherwise, you managed to learn something from our time together other than how many orgasms you were capable of having during a study session.”

I meant this last part as a joke, but not the rest of it. Kaitlyn, for all of her arrogance, was someone I knew to have a lot of doubts about herself. The gift of a test where she could show herself how much she truly knew was admittedly one of my stranger ideas, and one that I didn’t fully know how she’d take, but it was one I felt a great fit for her.

I watched her look at that test a while longer, formulating the rest of her words before she fully knew what she was going to say.

“Thank you,” she whispered. Her eyes, still uncertain, had a brightness to them that I liked. Maybe she still had a hard time believing in herself, but having someone else believe in her was a step in the right direction.

“No problem,” I said. Then, deciding to end on a joke, I added, “Now if only we could get your grades up in your other classes…”

“One battle at a time,” she said, her voice brightening by the moment as she approached me while I sat in my desk chair.

“I did it. I did it. I can do it. I can do it… FUCK YEAH!” she cheered with greater enthusiasm as her victory sunk in, jumping up and down and twirling around excitedly. Tits bouncing with every step, she jogged over to me, hopping into my lap and kissing me enthusiastically.

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” she exclaimed, shaking her hips slightly in my lap. Her pussy, though not quite wet yet, rubbed against my already very hard cock, and she was groaning at the contact.

I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her close and getting a hold of as much of her large breasts as I could while I kissed her. Kaitlyn cooed, especially as I started to grind up against her more, searching for entry.

“This is good, but we can do better,” she said, disentangling herself from my arms and going over to retrieve something from the nightstand.

“Better?” I groaned needily.

“Better,” she said, proudly showing off one of my extra bottles of lube.

“Right, better,” I amended, understanding her logic entirely.

Kaitlyn knelt between my legs, playfully licking and sucking on my cock for a few seconds before squeezing a large dollop of lube into her hands.

I yelped from the cold as she placed her lubed hands on my cock and started expertly jacking up and down. Though her body and individual skills may not have matched some of the extremes of other girls I’d been with, that Kaitlyn was one of the all-around hottest and most skilled girls I’d been with was close to indisputable. Pure porn star perfection, she handled my cock and balls so perfectly that she’d have been able to get me to do pretty much anything then and there.

“I’m gonna fuck your ass, aren’t I?” I asked.

“Uh huh,” Kaitlyn confirmed, standing up and turning around, squatting down over my cock. I helped hold her cheeks open wide while she angled herself down onto me, aiming her tight, almost cute little hole onto my massive erection.

“Yeeeeeeessssssssssss,” she hissed through gritted teeth as the well-lubed head first met resistance, then broke through. I was far less eloquent than her, grunting loudly with pleasure, for there were few pleasures in life quite like fucking Kaitlyn Pruitt’s perfect ass.

“Nobody believes in me, nobody’s ever believed in me, nobody but you,” she moaned as she took inch after inch of my cock in her tight ass.

“That’s not true. People believe in you. People love illegal bahis siteleri you,” I said.

“But nobody ever thought I was better than I thought I was, they always thought I was who I showed them. Why’d you believe in me?” she asked as she settled completely down on me, rocking her ass back and forth provocatively.

Reaching around her to grab her tits, pulling her in close, I kissed her passionately. “Because earlier this year, you took a chance on me. You believed I could be more than just another background nerd, that I was destined for more. You brought me into this new world I never thought I was worthy of. It seems that the least I can do is give you as many of the same opportunities as I can.”

Smiling joyfully, she kissed me. It was a long, sweet kiss, the kind bearing a sweetness that would’ve seemed completely foreign to Kaitlyn just a matter of months ago. It was a sweet kiss of thanks, of promises for many more adventures to come, of want, of desire, and yes, maybe a little love. It wasn’t love like what Josie and I had, but it was still nice all the same; definitely something past normal friendship (as if my cock buried in her ass weren’t a clue already).

Bracing her feet on the ground, Kaitlyn started to raise and drop herself on my cock. The look she gave me was one of pure lust, one that promised an encounter that was bound to be epic even by our usual standards. I dropped my hands from her tits to her hips for better support, and though I wanted to get lost in the moment, I couldn’t help but mentally check her name off my Christmas list.




X – HOPE – X










X – NOA – X


X – ROSE – X



X – TORI – X

Three to go, and only a few days left.

I could do this. Until then, I grabbed Kaitlyn Pruitt’s hips and prepared to fuck her for all she had.


The last day of school before Winter Break officially began looked like something out of a very festive post-apocalyptic movie. With classes more or less an afterthought at this point and a large portion of the school already called out “sick”, there was only a skeleton crew of students and staff shuffling around, waiting for the end of the day when everyone could hit the road.

If I wanted to, I could’ve taken this opportunity to ditch with a lot of my fellow senior class (and probably had some impressively wild sex with some of them), but with attendance as good as mine and old habits hard to break, I kept to school on that day.

It was fun in its own strange way, watching all the teachers as checked out as they were, like Mrs. Addams in English who just showed us How the Grinch Stole Christmas, or Sra. Lopez in Spanish who showed us How the Grinch Stole Christmas dubbed in Spanish. Mrs. Chan, my science teacher, at least had some creative fun by taking us out to the parking lot and launching a miniature plastic Christmas tree using a Diet Coke and Mentos bottle rocket. She got herself soaked in the process, but since Mrs. Chan had the kind of body that could make even a lab coat look good, I was hardly complaining.

Though I was enjoying the emptiness of the school and the half-assed festive environment that had taken over for the day, I was a man on a mission. I’d worked long and hard to check this next name off of my list, and I meant to check her off definitively. She wasn’t easy to impress, but I thought today I might have something that’d catch even her attention.

Well, I hoped I did anyway.

Shortly after the lunch bell rang, I walked purposefully over to the Puma Press offices. With the USB drive I’d taken from my backpack grasped tightly in hand, I took a deep breath and entered.

Yes, I know facing Nadia Barclay is nothing like facing whatever mythical beast it sounds like I was preparing to confront, but with how much I’d neglected my Puma Press duties this last month, I thought it didn’t hurt to be prepared.

When I went inside, the Puma Press offices were nearly empty. Nadia was, as ever, inside, hunched over someone’s shoulder while they sat at a computer. Though intense as ever, the dark-skinned beauty with her long hair, wire-rimmed glasses and expensive-but-not-too-expensive clothing gave this place an air of confidence that managed to make it feel so much more real and important than I thought a high school newspaper would ever feel.

The girl she hovered over was a slender brunette with short hair, a short-sleeved shirt that showed off a small tattoo on the inside of her left arm and a much nicer smile than she might’ve otherwise had for how close Nadia was to jumping in and doing the job for her.

Nica Dubois. I didn’t know her as well as a lot of other writers on the paper, but I was enjoying the show.

“I know what I’m doing,” Nica said evenly.

“Just because you do doesn’t mean I don’t,” Nadia said forcefully canlı bahis siteleri but professionally, reaching over to touch a key.

Gently, Nica pushed her hands away. “Were you jumping in on my text?”

“No… not quite,” Nadia said.

“Touch my text and you might get cut,” Nica said, her tone joking and her smile sweet yet some of the threat still real.

“You don’t have the balls,” Nadia returned.

“You don’t need balls to cut,” Nica replied sweetly.

I’d seen the two of them like this before, and while it always proved entertaining, I wasn’t here today for entertainment.

I cleared my throat. Nadia looked up, while Nica continued on what she was doing.

“Hey, Ryan,” Nadia said, not looking too terribly happy to see me.

“Saved by the penis,” Nica mused. “Could you keep her out of my hair for maybe… ten minutes, Ryan? That’s all I need to get this article past the point where even she can damage it. Take her to the Dark Room, tie her up, make her scream, I don’t care I just need that ten minutes.”

Nadia rolled her eyes. “Ever since Damon left and Nica got promoted to assistant editor, suddenly she’s all full of sass.”

“The sass was always there, just muted until I made my play,” Nica said. Through the reflection of the screen on her conservative glasses, I could see that she was making some pretty rapid progress.

“Congrats, Nica,” I said. “I didn’t come here today for… that, really…”

“Merde,” Nica muttered.

“…but I did come to talk to you, Nadia, if you’ve got a few minutes? Maybe ten?” I said, much to Nica’s amusement.

Nodding softly, Nadia said, “Yeah, I’d say it’s about time we had a talk. Let’s grab a table.”

Nadia and I navigated ourselves through the cramped quarters of the room before finding a table that was almost clean and far enough away from Nica to actually let her get her work done.

“I’ve been wanting to talk to you for a while,” I said.

“And I you,” Nadia replied. “A month ago, you and I had a talk about how what went down between Tori and you wouldn’t affect your work on the Puma Press. That if you did let it interfere with the operations of this paper, I’d make you regret your choices. Tori has held up her end of the bargain. You haven’t.”

“Need I remind you that I offered to quit?” I said.

“You did,” Nadia replied. “And maybe it was my mistake that I decided not to let you go. I like you Ryan; you’re a solid writer and really great in the sack, but I like to think I’m a woman of my word. I’ve seen barely more than a couple hundred words from you all December, not even a single interview, and yet my sources tell me you’ve been running around like a chicken with your head cut off doing everything but helping out the Puma Press. So, I’ve gotta ask you: is working on my paper something you really want to do, or must I find someone else to cover the Current Events section and make you regret your choices?”

This was it. The moment of truth.

I slid the USB drive across the table at her. Nadia picked it up.

“What’s this?” she asked.

I took a deep breath. “You said you haven’t seen more than a couple hundred words and any interviews with me since the beginning of the month, that right there is me making up for lost time. That’s a few thousand words and eight interviews. Good interviews with good (well, some of them are mostly good) people that with a little editing might meet even your lofty standards.”

Nadia toyed with it, obviously conflicted. She clearly wanted to be upset with me still for spending so much of the month off the grid, but having spent a good chunk of that time pulling together interviews with some of my sources might have had a way of making it up to her.

“I’m listening,” Nadia said.

I took another deep breath, not wanting to have to say this again if I could afford to. “Interviews with Mallory Dourif, Izzy Barnes and Mia Roth on their respective scenes: pro-cosplaying, pro-gaming and the indie music scene around Regan Hills in particular. An interview with Noa Kanzaki on what it’s like to be an aspiring Ninja Warrior, and one with Jade Alvarez about the insane level of charity work she’s done. For the less high-minded and niche crowds, I got an interview with the color guard captain, Daphne O’Connell, and even though it’s late one with our beloved Homecoming Queen, Addison Gonzalez. Probably my favorite, though, and one I think you’ll enjoy as well, is the Sarah Kent interview. From shy band girl to the newest Regan Hills High School senior cheerleader? It’s trite enough to be a teen movie all on its own yet perfect for us because it’s really happening. These are good stories; not enough to win awards on their own, but enough when put in a good high school paper with some other solid articles and amazing editing that it could be part of an award-winning team.”

I didn’t have to play to her ego, but it certainly didn’t hurt. The way she looked at the USB drive, I knew she was torn. On the one hand, she wanted to be upset with me for not pulling as much weight as I might have been around here for the last month, but on the other hand I’d just given her about two months or more of work to sift through. She knew I was good at this. Not great, but definitely good, and that of the eight interviews I’d done, at least a few of them would be worth publishing.

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