High School Girls - Sex Stories

High School Girls

... strap of his bra as well. The stretchy feminine undergarment was all that stood between him and the oblivion below. What a pain in the ass the thing was, he thought hysterically. He couldn't even die properly with it. He felt his heart hammering. Everything seemed sharper and more clear, and the world rushed in on him. He took it all in as only someone who has stepped into death and been yanked back can. He felt warm wetness in his groin and realized that he had peed his pants. Hands grabbed him, and the abyss receded. A confused babble of voices surrounded him. "...if I hadn't seen her from the junkyard..." "Jesus, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, what the hell." "Joe? Joe? Joe?" "I raced as fast as I could, and barely reached her in time." That was Eric, Joe realized with surprise. "Oh what the hell, Joe, you stupid fucker, what the hell.." That was Sam, sobbing. "Joe? Are you all right? Joe?" Dana was asking repeatedly, sounding utterly shocked. He looked around. He was on his back on the trestle, and he sat up, trembling. Dana and Eric were looking at him, their faces white. Sam's head was bowed, and Joe realized he was on his knees sobbing and weakly punching him on the chest and shoulder. He stopped him, and then held Sam, feeling his wracking sobs. "I... I'm sorry." It seemed a pitiful thing to say. Eric pulled out a cell phone and started punching numbers in. "NO!" Eric jerked. "No calls! Please don't call for help. I'm fine, I really am!" Dana suddenly snapped. "Fine? ...

... FINE? YOU DUMB FUCK, YOU JUST WALKED OFF A BRIDGE!" "What the HELL were you thinking Joe!" Sam suddenly blurted. What could he say to that. Faced with concern of his friends, he felt deeply ashamed. He suddenly realized what a selfish thing he had tried to do. His looked awkwardly away, anywhere than at their shocked and weeping faces. A large bag that Eric had been carrying was on the trestle, metallic parts spilling out of it where he had dropped it in his haste. "...are those the parts of a clutch from a 1965 Mustang?" Eric stared at her dumbstruck. "A 1967." he said in a strangled voice. "You know cars?" "Used to." "Sounds to me like you still do!" Joe looked at Eric, his words jolting him. "No... I... I don't do that anymore." Dana, furious, walked over and fetched him a sharp one across the cheek. Howling, she ran down the trestle back towards the town. Sam looked at Joe like he had grown a second head. "You moron, can we discuss the fact that you just TRIED TO KILL YOURSELF?!?" Eric persisted, sensing something in Joe's words that felt vitally, critically important. "Why don't you do it anymore." "My car's gone. My tools are gone. All my stuff is gone." Eric frowned. "So? Get new ones." Joe stared at him, thunderstruck. "I got that clutch for my Mustang, because the one I have is broken. I could use some help putting that one in. It's the wrong year, but I think I can make it work." Joe saw the plans for an old era Mustang leap into his head. He thought about the ...