Quantity Vs Inequality Ch. 01

"Ack!" Cheryl cried out as her breast was distended.

Kincaid pulled his cock from her and Cheryl looked up in confusion.

"You, you need to roll over," Kincaid ordered.

"I, like this?" Cheryl asked and rolled to lie on her belly.

"Uh huh, and..." Kincaid said and hefted Cheryl to pose on hands and knees.

Her massive buttocks beckoned to him and Kincaid gave each pasty white hillock of flab a light slap. Cheryl giggled when he lightly slapped her big, jiggly ass so Kincaid slapped them again. Then he squeezed each buttock in his beefy paws.

Through the deep furrow, in the very low lighting, Kincaid could just make out Cheryl's light brown rosebud. Kincaid used his hands to pull her full buttocks apart, exposing her little anus.

Ashley had never allowed Kincaid such liberties. Other than for oral sex, Ashley was always on top, always in control. Asking for 'doggy-style' actually caused Ashley to dismount and dress and leave the trailer.

"I, wait, what, what are you, Kincaid! That, that's just wrong!" Cheryl protested as she felt Kincaid's tongue lapping against her tightly clenched anus.

Two more slaps to her buttocks stifled any more protests. Cheryl actually let out a guttural groan when Kincaid pushed a spittle wetted finger against her anus.

"I, ack, I oh God," Cheryl groaned as Kincaid again pushed his fat cock into her drooling slit with considerable force.

Because Cheryl was much shorter than Kincaid, doggy-style was not a very comfortable position for Kincaid. For Cheryl, however, this position and the angle of Kincaid's cock had him rubbing deliciously along the walls of her pussy.

"Ack, Jesus shit fuck!" Cheryl screamed out when Kincaid grabbed her swinging breasts and pinched her nipples hard.

Releasing her right nipple, Kincaid wet his index and middle fingers in his mouth and pressed them against her winking anus. Slowly, forcefully, he worked the two fingers into her tight rectum.

"Ack, oh, oh God, that, what, what are you doing to me?" Cheryl sobbed out as waves of pleasure pummeled her guts.

"Got, you got any lube?" Kincaid wheezed out, this position becoming hard on his back.

"I what?" Cheryl gasped and grunted.

"Lotion?" Kincaid suggested.

"My, in, in my, the bathroom," Cheryl wheezed out.

Cheryl collapsed when Kincaid pulled his fat meat out of her pussy. She lay on her belly, one leg bet, the other leg stretched out and dangling off the edge of her mattress.

Kincaid found the tube of floral lotion and squirted a generous handful into his left palm. He dragged his index, middle, and ring finger through the slimy substance, then greased his aching member with the rest of the goo.

Kincaid let Cheryl stay in her sprawled position as he pulled her left buttock with his left hand. She wiggled and struggled to her knees again as Kincaid jammed two, then three fingers into her struggling rectum.

As he worked on fingering her anus, Kincaid saw that he was at a much better height, standing on her floor while she knelt on her mattress.

When Kincaid determined that Cheryl's ass was as ready as it would ever be, he pulled his fingers from her rectum and pulled her right butt cheek wide. Gripping his hard cock in his left hand, he pressed the head of his cock against her constricting anus.

"I, ack, oh, oh shit, stop, stop, that, that fucking ack!" Cheryl grunted then screamed in painful pleasure when Kincaid jammed his left index and middle fingers into her swampy box.

Cheryl screamed and bucked when Kincaid's thumb mashed against her large clitoris. Kincaid wiggled his hips and slid another inch of his meat into her struggling straining rectum.

Putting his right foot up onto Cheryl's bed, Kincaid was able to push more forcefully into Cheryl's incredibly tight ass. Kincaid could feel her slick anal walls squeezing and pulsing around his invading member. He could feel her rectal muscles straining, trying to expel his cock as he forced himself into her.

Kincaid looked down and saw his thick meat stretching her light brown ring. He saw the sheen of lotion around his cock and her stretched anus.

"Aw fuck, fuck, fuck," Kincaid groaned and pumped a load of semen into her bowels.

They both slumped and slid on the bed when Kincaid collapsed, his weight fully on top of Cheryl.

"Erg, o, oh God!" Cheryl grunted.

When he'd collapsed on top of her, Kincaid had somehow managed to drive his entire length into Cheryl's bowels. His cock was still rock hard as her tight anal ring squeezed around the base of his cock.

Kincaid rolled onto his side, pulling Cheryl onto her side. He reached his left hand down and pulled her left leg up. His right hand, he wedged between bed and Cheryl's bulk and began squeezing and fondling her breast.

"Oh God, oh my God," Cheryl wheezed out as Kyle again began fucking her ass.

The heat and friction was incredible; Kincaid felt like every nerve ending in his body was centered in the head of his cock. He could feel the walls of Cheryl's rectum squeezing, rasping against his cock head. He thrust almost maniacally into her, hoping for one more release of sperm churning in his balls.

Oh, oh, oh," Cheryl grunted as Kincaid's belly and hips slapped forcefully against her flabby buttocks.

Reaching his left hand down, Kincaid pinched Cheryl's fat clitoris. Cheryl tensed and then squealed in orgasm. Her entire body shook with the intense orgasm.

"Aaiegh, ack, oh, oh my God," Kincaid bellowed, feeling like his balls were turning inside out with the force of his ejaculation.

For a long moment, the two lay, sweaty and gasping. Suddenly, Cheryl let out a pained squeak and scrambled to get off the bed. Kincaid's semi-flaccid cock slid out of her raw anus and lay, sticky against his right thigh.

"Oh, augh, I oh God," Kincaid could hear Cheryl grunting in the bathroom. Looking down, Kincaid saw his soiled cock and wrinkled his nose in distaste.

"Ack!" Cheryl protested when Kincaid entered the bathroom. "I, I'm in here!"

Kincaid ignored Cheryl's protests and stepped into her shower. The ice cold blast of the shower made him loose a complaint of his own. He used a handful of her shampoo to clean his cock of lotion and other matter. By the time he judged his cock to be clean enough, the water had warmed up nicely.

Stepping out of the shower, Kincaid saw that he was alone. Toweling himself dry with the towel hanging on the hook, Kincaid suddenly felt a sense of discomfort. Kincaid did not understand the feeling of unease that enveloped him but there it was.

He would have to leave the bathroom, nude, and walk into Cheryl Four-ton's bedroom and get dressed, in front of fat ass Four-ton.

And in the four or five hours since Ashley St. Martin had callously used him for transportation from Ashley's house to the movie theater, Four-ton had shown Kincaid a level of acceptance and compassion he had never afforded to the unpopular girl. Kincaid could honestly say, he had never participated in mocking the unpopular girl, he had never called her names.

"But you ain't never put a stop to it neither," Kincaid reminded himself as he steeled himself to leave her bathroom.

Stepping into her bedroom, Kincaid saw Cheryl now dressed in a frumpy flannel nightgown. Her face was scrubbed clean of any cosmetics and her pudgy feet were jammed into a pair of fuzzy flip flops. In a lot of ways, Cheryl reminded him of his mother; Becky looked this frumpy and weathered when she was ready for bed. She looked worse in the morning; hair tousled, face puffy. Kincaid felt the sting of tears as he looked at Cheryl Fourcade.

"I uh, see you," Cheryl whispered, looking away.

"I uh, yeah, I mean," Kincaid said, sliding his shirt on over his head.

Neither eighteen year old said anything as Kincaid dressed. Kincaid turned to leave and hesitated. He started again, then paused.

Turning, he saw Cheryl's brilliant green eyes begging him for something. Kincaid had no idea what she could possibly want from him.

"I uh, I mean..." Kincaid stammered.

He felt his heart plummet when Cheryl put her head down and closed her beautiful eyes. Kincaid felt absolutely hollow inside. Abruptly, he left her bedroom.

"Hey, that Ashley come by looking for you; where you been?" Jack demanded as Kincaid handed him the keys to his truck.

"I, I been out," Kincaid said.

Kincaid turned his back on his step-father, even as the man had more questions.

In his room, Kincaid lay on his bed and stared up at the ceiling. He couldn't really see the ceiling; it was fairly dark in the room. He wondered if this was how his mother saw the world. Mostly darkness with a few fuzzy, indistinguishable shapes.

Right now, this was how Kincaid saw his life. Mostly darkness ahead, with a few fuzzy, indistinguishable shapes. College was not in the cards; he'd scored too low on the tests and his overall grade point average was barely enough to scrape by. Funds were non-existent; they lived off of his mother's government check and other assistance programs.

So, the best he could hope for was working off-shore on an oil rig. It was hard, back breaking labor that would keep him away from his girlfriend or wife for weeks at a time. He'd heard Jack say, more than once, that working fourteen on and seven off was what had killed his marriage to Bobbi Frentz-Newton.

He must have fallen asleep; the sun was lazily filtering into his bedroom when he came to. With a groan, Kincaid tiredly got out of bed and made his way to the bathroom. Seeing his mother shuffling out of her bedroom brought up the image of Cheryl right before he'd left her house.

"Morning," Becky mumbled. "Pancakes?"

"Yeah," Kincaid agreed.

"Hey, Kincaid, how many days until football?" Jack asked, scratching his belly.

"Preseason or regular?" Kincaid asked, standing in the door of the bathroom. "Eighty one days until preseason. Eighty one very long days."

Jack shook his head and Kincaid closed the door of the bathroom. He did his business and washed his hands. He washed his hands, even though he saw no need for it. But his mother could hear the water running in the pipes and would know if Kincaid had washed his hands or not.

Looking at the clock on the stove in the kitchen, Kincaid saw that it was only eight o'clock on Sunday morning. A long, empty day stretched out in front of him. Kincaid suddenly felt claustrophobic, felt the walls of the trailer pinning him down.

"I, oh, oh my God," Kincaid gasped out.

Kincaid told his mother he'd eat his breakfast after he returned. He took a brisk jog from their trailer park through Ashley's neighborhood. Seeing Kraagle's truck in front of Ashley's home infuriated Kincaid for a moment. He knew, the moment his back was turned, Clay Kraggle was sniffing around Ashley. Knowing that it angered him, Ashley did not discourage Kragle's attention.

"Know what? Two of you deserve each other," Kincaid smiled tightly as he continued jogging.

Clay Kragle was dating Simone Bernard, supposedly Ashley's best friend. And, Ashley was dating, had been dating him. Kincaid nodded his head and turned the corner

"Yep; deserve each other," Kincaid said aloud.

"Whew, oh my God, go take a shower; I'll make your breakfast," Becky said when a panting, sweating Kincaid returned.

Arriving at Kimble Academy on Monday morning, Kincaid found out that Ashley St. Martin had kicked him to the cur. Ashley St. Martin had already let all students know she had been the one to call an end to their romance.

Kincaid looked at the gloating faces of his peers. His sudden laughter wiped the jeering smirks from his male classmates, caused puzzled expressions on the faces of the female drones and hopeful drones.

"Well, that is a relief," Kincaid finally said. "That...is... a...big...fucking relief. But, hey, I wish her nothing but the best."

The drones and hopeful drones were quick to relay Kincaid's response to Ashley. Her haughty exterior revealed nothing as she listened to the prattling sycophants. Inside, however, Ashley was furious. It had been bad enough that Bridges had not complied with her demand that that they see the movie she wanted to see. It had truly been unthinkable; he'd abandoned her at the movie theater; she'd had to call her mother to come get her after the movie. But then Bridges had the gall to ignore her text messages and voice mails. Most egregious of all, Bridges had not come crawling to her, had not apologized and begged for her forgiveness. But now, his seeming lack of concern was just unfathombable to Ashley.

In Physical Education class, Clay Kragle seemed to want to pick a fight with Kincaid. Kincaid simply stayed out of reach. When Clay tried to confront Kincaid in the locker room, Kincaid simply shrugged his shoulders and told Clay that the better man had obviously won.

"I tell you, though, man! I, I will definitely miss packing her tight ass," Kincaid told Clay and the seven or eight boys that changed from sweaty tee shirts and flannel shorts back into the school uniform.

"Pack..." Clay asked.

"Aw yeah, shit, girl's a freak for up the booty," Kincaid said, lacing his dress shoes.

"Up the..." Clay repeated.

Little spit, just drive it on home, aw yeah, but hey, you already know all that, right?" Kincaid said, leaving the locker room.

"Man, Kragle! Travelling the dirt road on her?" a friend asked.

Stepping into the cafeteria, Kincaid scanned the room. He saw Cheryl, sitting at a table with other members of the lower echelon of Kimble Academy. Her face broke into a smile when she saw Kincaid.

Kincaid felt a heavy lurch in his guts, but years of conditioning won out over his initial impulse to smile at Cheryl. The heaviness in his heart grew as he saw the smile fade from the girl's face.

"You. Are. A Total dick, Kincaid," Kincaid told himself, but still could not bring himself to smile at Cheryl.

After picking up a tray of beef stew imposter, Kincaid joined the usual clique. He avoided looking in Cheryl's direction.

After school, Kincaid made his way to 1121-A Dorchester Road. Cheryl let him in and let Kincaid guide her to the couch. Cheryl let Kincaid remove her school uniform. She let him part her heavy thighs and glue his mouth to her very wet sex. He licked and sucked her to three screaming orgasms before leaning up and driving himself into her pussy in one strong thrust.

After Kincaid pumped his semen into her pussy, Cheryl licked and sucked his cock clean of their combined juices. She then allowed herself to be rolled onto hands and knees.

"Oh, fuck, I, oh God, that..." Cheryl whimpered and grunted as Kincaid again used her floral scented lotion to grease up his cock.

Thursday and Friday, the senior class did not attend Kimble Academy. Supposedly, they were to use these two days to complete any assignments they'd yet to finish, and to put in those last few hours of studying. Kincaid spent most of Thursday at 1121-A Dorchester Road, pounding Cheryl Forcade like a bass drum at a hip-hop concert. Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, he did devote his time and energy to studying.

Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday of the following week, the seniors were in their final exams. On Monday, at the first exam, Kincaid fought down the smirk when he saw Clay Kragle's face, saw the numerous scratches and the fat lower lip.

"Mother fucker, you, you fucking lied; she ain't into none of that," Clay hissed, face red with anger.

"Hmm? Oh. Oh, you believed me?" Kincaid smirked. "Dumb ass."

Kincaid also heard from several female drones that Ashley had broken up with Clay; he had some truly disgusting ideas about sex and roles in a relationship. As a result of Clayton Kragle's shortcomings, Ashley was now ready to forgive Bridges and allow him to date her again. Kincaid smiled and did not respond to the obvious fishing expedition Ashley had sent out.

After the final of his exams on Wednesday, Kincaid looked around for Cheryl Fourcade but did not see her among the laughing whooping crowd of students. Out in the parking lot, Kincaid saw that her car was not in the parking lot. Jogging from school property to 1121-A Dorchester Road, Cheryl's car was not in the drive and there was no answer to his knock.

At the graduation ceremony, Cheryl Alicia Fourcade was not present. Dr. Desmond did not call out her name. There were a few others missing; Kincaid knew that Ashley had failed both Algebra and Biology so would be going to Summer School. Frank Drury had enlisted in the United States Marine Corps and was already in boot camp. Steven Mitchell had elected to skip the ceremony and Kincaid could not blame the unfortunate young man. His spinal deformity had relegated Steven to a wheelchair and as such, Steven had suffered horribly at the hands of the bullies.

After the ceremony, Dr. Desmond would only tell Kincaid that Cheryl had requested that the school mail her the diploma. The man smirked at Kincaid and refused to give him Cheryl's address.

At the three parties he attended, no one knew anything about Four-ton or her whereabouts. At the third party, someone slipped Simone Bernard something then put her into one of the bedrooms. Kincaid strongly suspected it had been Clay; Simone refused to reunite with Clay after Ashley tossed Clay out on his ear. Stepping out into the mosquito infested night, Kincaid called the police to report the drugging and active rape of the girl.

Driving past 1121-A Dorchester Road, Kincaid saw only a dark building. Kincaid returned to his home.

During his junior year, Kincaid had worked briefly at Brick's Pizzeria. He'd been forced to resign; his already quite low grades had slipped even further because of the late hours he worked. Now that school was over, Kincaid again found himself working at the pizza place. And, he found himself truly hating it. But he saw no options.

His days were spent staring at nothing and his nights were spent staring at nothing. Everything was gray-black with only fuzzy edges and outlines.

"Hey, Bridges, check this out," a coworker giggled one night. "Fat bitch over there? Orders a no-carb vegetarian."

"Oh? Good for her," Kincaid said, looking at a pretty but quite heavy woman.

"Uh huh. Size Grand?" the coworker giggled.

"Just make the pizza, Bullet head," Kincaid said, developing an erection as he looked at the fat woman's chunky ass in her very tight blue jeans.

"Bullet head," the cute cashier giggled, casting adoring glances at Kincaid.

"Thank you, ma'am, have a great day," Kincaid said as he delivered the woman's pizza.

"Fourcade, Fourcade, damn it, she said..." Kincaid thought to himself as they cleaned up the restaurant after the last customer left.

"Alvin! And, and, Jenny. Alvin and Jenny Fourcade," Kincaid remembered that night, as he lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling.

"Damn it, Mom, turn off your stupid voice thing, huh?" Kincaid winced as the antique computer squawked and chattered when Kincaid turned it on.

The manager of the Brick's Pizzeria was not happy, but turnover in the restaurant business is high, especially during the summer months. He refused to cut Kincaid's check one minute early, though.

The woman at the counter of the DeGarde Inn sold Kincaid the Greyhound bus ticket and wished him a safe travel. Three hours later, the bus arrived and Kincaid wearily made his way onto the bus. Three hours is a long time to wait for anything, especially when every nerve in his body was demanding action.

It was one fifteen in the morning when Kincaid sluggishly made his way off of the Greyhound bus. The Dew Drop Inn promised clean rooms for a reasonable price and Kincaid wearily paid for the room. Inside of Room 221, Kincaid sent his mother and Jack a text, letting them know he'd arrived and was going to bed.

Housekeeping woke Kincaid the next morning and Kincaid promised he'd be out of the room in twenty minutes. He quickly showered, put on fresh clothes and brushed his teeth. Then he made his way down to the remnants of the continental breakfast.