Quantity Vs Inequality Ch. 02

*Author's Note: Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.

Disclaimers: This story has been edited by myself, utilizing Microsoft Spell-Check. You have been forewarned; expect to find mistakes.

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Ashley St. Martin sighed as she entered the main hall of Kimble Academy, the high school in Kimble Louisiana. It was unfair, unthinkable, really, that she had to attend summer school. If Mr. Cousins had just given her credit for knowing the function of the fallopian tubes, she would have passed his damned Biology class. So what if she'd misspelled fallopian tube? She knew what the fallopian tube was.

"Mm hmm, and the bile duct performs what function?" Mr. Cousins had asked, gray eyes unreadable.

"Like, I'm ever going use any of this shit?" Ashley had exploded in rage.

And Algebra. No one uses algebra. Who cared what 2Y over 4X was? And factoring? What the fuck was factoring? Name one place in her life she would ever need to factor anything?

At least she didn't have to wear the stupid uniform for summer school. Ashley smiled at Douglas as she passed him in the hall. She knew the muscle bound idiot had a major crush on her. And her halter top and Daisy Duke Shorts had Douglas's attention as she leisurely made her way from her locker to Mr. Cousin's room.

Ashley bent and posed and flexed as she put her notebook and textbook onto her desk. She gave Mr. Cousins a sweet, innocent smile as she took her seat. Mr. Cousins gave Ashley a bland look as the six other students entered the room and took their seats.

Doug entered the room and sat next to Ashley. With an annoyed expression, the blonde beauty waved Doug away, much like one would wave a pesky fly away.

Focusing her attention onto Mr. Cousins again, Ashley smiled and crossed her sleek, tanned legs slowly. Then she leaned forward, letting her loose halter top flutter open, giving Mr. Cousins a teasing glimpse of her 30C breast with pale pink nipples. And again, Mr. Cousins gave Ashley a bland look as he began the class.

From Mr. Cousins' room, Ashley strolled to Mrs. Neidemeyer's classroom. The door was open so Ashley walked into the room.

"No, no, don't. I, I'll have the money by the third," Mrs. Neidemeyer hissed into her cell phone.

Because whatever conversation Beth Neidemeyer was having did not concern Ashley St. Martin, Ashley tuned the woman's conversation out. She looked through the few notes she'd actually taken in the Algebra class during the regular school year, but still couldn't understand anything she was seeing.

"Oh!" Mrs. Neidemeyer gasped, realizing she was not alone in the classroom.

"I, please, I, I'll call you back," Mrs. Neidemeyer said and terminated her call.

"Hello Ashley," Mrs. Neidemeyer pasted a smile on her face. "Ready for class?"

"Uh huh," Ashley shrugged.

Nine more students joined them. Ashley was too self-absorbed to notice that she was the only eighteen year old in the classroom. Most of the other students were fifteen and sixteen years old.

Just as she had done during the regular school year, Ashley lost interest in the material and just day-dreamed while Mrs. Neidemeyer droned on and on about equations, integers, blah-blah-blah.

After her Algebra class, Ashley retrieved her purse from her locker and fished her cell phone out. She smiled, reading a message from Shelly Cronaur.

'OMW,' Ashley texted and scurried to her Silver X5 Hybrid.

In Shelly's room, Ashley watched with nervous anticipation as Shelly loaded her bong with some homegrown marijuana. Shelly moved slowly on purpose, enjoying Ashley's discomfort. Finally, Shelly dropped a few drops of the potent cannabis oil onto the bowl of weed. Shelly's older brother had sent her the oil from Benhurst, Colorado. Ashley wanted to scream for Shelly to hurry up.

"So? How's summer school?" Shelly mocked after lighting the weed.

"Oh God, I mean, Jesus! Why don't they just go ahead and give me the fucking grade?" Ashley whined, taking the offered bong from Shelly's hand. "I mean, come on. It's not like they think I'm ever going learn any of this shit, is it?"

"Uh huh," Shelly said and took a mammoth hit from the bong.

After the second bowl, Shelly unzipped her shorts. Ashley pretended not to notice. Shelly nudged Ashley, hard as she pulled her tee shirt up and off.

"Uh? Time you pay for it," Shelly ordered.

With a sigh, Ashley leaned over and softly kissed Shelly's pouting lips. Shelly lightly pushed Ashley's face away. Ashley felt the sting of tears, but dutifully unhooked Shelly's 35DD bra.

Ashley bent her head and tongued Shelly's fat left nipple while her small hand played with Shelly's right breast. Ashley gave a hard suck to the left nipple before bringing her mouth to Shelly's right nipple.

When Shelly was bouncing and whimpering from Ashley's breast play, Ashley unzipped her own shorts as she maneuvered to kneel between Shelly's splayed legs. Ashley worked Shelly's shorts down Shelly's long legs and off, revealing the blonde girl's dark brown bush.

Ashley hated herself as she knelt between Shelly's thighs. She hated Shelly for turning her on to marijuana and cannabis oil. She hated Shelly for making her pay for her weed; after all, Shelly smoked it with her.

And, Ashley hated herself for being turned on. She hated herself as she used her right hand to part Shelly's wet inner lips and used her left hand to reach inside of her shorts and part her own inner lips.

Shelly had some phobia about the smell and taste of her own sex and cleaned herself thoroughly. So, rarely could Ashley taste anything as she lapped at Shelly's inner walls. Shelly grunted when Ashley sucked on Shelly's clitoris.

"Mm oh God, God, yes," Ashley grunted as her fingers brought herself closer and closer to climax.

Because of her breast play, Ashley had brought Shelly close to the precipice. Shelly grunted, groaned and whimpered as her climax came closer and closer.

After sucking and fingering Shelly to three orgasms, and fingering herself to two orgasms, Ashley and shelly smoked another bowl, then Ashley went home.

Ashley's step-father, Josh Neulin called out from his home office when Ashley barged into the house. Ashley cried out she was about to pee on herself; he would have to wait. In her bathroom, Ashley did urinate. She spritzed some fresh perfume onto her clothing. Her last act before leaving her bathroom was to tear off a hunk of the beef jerky she kept in her purse and chomped on it. Even if Josh suspected he smelled marijuana on her, the stench of her breath would discourage any full investigation.

"So? First day; how was it?" Josh asked, waving away the heavy odor of Ashley's perfume. "And, seriously? They let you dress like a hooker for summer school?"

"It was on that stupid paper they sent y'all," Ashley said. "Shorts are fine."

"Shorts, yes. Those aren't shorts; those are panties," Josh complained.

"Fine," Ashley said. "When's Mom getting home?"

"Same time as always. You know, believe it or not? In the real world? People work the same hours, whether it's summer or not," Josh said, returning his attention to his own work.

Every Monday, Mr. Cousins and Mrs. Neidemeyer gave tests. The third Tuesday, Mr. Cousins let Ashley know she would have to score no less than an eighty three on every one of the last six tests if she hoped to avoid repeating her senior year. Mrs. Neidemeyer told Ashley unless she passed the next exam, there was no chance for Ashley to pass the class.

"Sucks," Shelly commiserated as she lay back on her bed.

"You know," Ashley spat angrily. "As a friend? Maybe you could like oh I don't know, act like you give a flying fuck?"

Shelly stretched to her full six feet and two inches in height. She smirked at Ashley's angry face.

"Uh huh. Like when you gave a flying fuck about what happened to my sister?" Shelly asked.

"Hey! I sent y'all a card," Ashley defended.

"Oh. Okay, I'll send you a card," Shelly said. "Know what? I, I don't feel like smoking, okay?"

From the moment Ashley St. Martin had set foot onto Kimble Academy's mottled and aging asphalt parking lot in her freshman year, Ashley St. Martin had vied for the position of Queen Bee. There had been a senior class Queen Bee, so Ashley contented herself with ruling the freshman class. In her sophomore year, Ashley's reign extended from the sophomore class down to the freshman class. In her junior and senior year, Ashley's reign was complete among the student body.

Now, in summer school, Ashley's reign among the student body was established. But her grip was tenuous. Her sway was not as complete. Ashley blamed Kincaid 'Bridges' Roberts; just before the end of the senior year, he had somehow slipped from her grasp. He had somehow loosened Ashley's grip and slipped away.

Ashley giggled; she'd seen him the other day in Tommy's Po-Boys, seen him with that lard ass Four-ton. Ashley reminded herself, Bridges had not slipped from her grasp; she had discarded him. She. She had been the one in control. She was still the one in control.

Wednesday morning, Ashley made her way from Mr. Cousins' class to Mrs. Neidemeyer's class. Mr. Cousins said he had a list of recent graduates that were willing to tutor, for a fee. Tutoring meant more work and Ashley was in no mood to do more work than absolutely necessary.

"Please, I, I told you. I get paid on the third," Ashley heard Beth Neidemeyer whispering urgently into her phone.

Ashley smiled as she took her seat. At least this was one class she discovered a solution for. She smiled as Mrs. Neidemeyer put her cell phone into her purse.

After the class ended, Ashley stayed in her seat. Mrs. Neidemeyer eyed Ashley with suspicion; the self-involved blonde was usually the first out of the door.

"So. How much do you need?" Ashley asked sweetly.

"I uh, what?" Beth Neidemeyer asked, swallowing hard.

"Simple question. How much money do you need?" Ashley asked.

"I, that, that's none of your business," Beth snarled.

"Oh. Okay. I mean, I could help, but if you'd rather..." Ashley shrugged, getting to her feet.

"Seventeen hundred," Beth admitted.

"So. I pass this class?" Ashley suggested.

"I, God damn you. God damn you, and God damn that ass hole ex-husband of mine," Beth burst into angry sobs.

"There, there," Ashley soothed mockingly. "I'll be back in a few minutes, okay?"

Ashley went to her locker and grabbed her purse. She knew, from past experience, the ATM would only allow Ashley to withdraw five hundred dollars at a time, so Ashley went into the First National Bank of DeGarde and did a withdrawal for two thousand dollars from her checking account. Returning to the school, Ashley saw that Mrs. Neidemeyer had another class so wandered down to Mr. Cousins' class. He was also conducting class but paused and walked to the door.

"That list of tutors?" Ashley asked.

"Oh, but of course, Ms. St. Martin; let me just drop everything for you," Mr. Cousins said and none too politely shut the door in Ashley's face.

"Ass hole," Ashley snapped and returned to stand outside of Mrs. Neidemeyer's classroom.

After the classroom had emptied, Ashley sauntered into the classroom and looked at Mrs. Neidemeyer. The teacher looked up and regarded Ashley with genuine hostility. Ashley shrugged and pulled the bank's envelope from her purse.

"Seventeen hundred," Ashley said and counted the one hundred dollar bills out onto the desk. She smirked as Beth grabbed the seventeen bills from the desktop and shoved them into her bra.

"Ta-ta," Ashley cooed and strolled out of the classroom.

Ashley entered Mr. Cousins' classroom and ignored his frustrated sigh. Mr. Cousins pulled the list up on his laptop computer, ignoring the eleven students that filed in and took seats, waiting on him.

"Hmm, no, no, he's already at Missouri, ah! No, no, she's in Haiti doing volunteer..." Mr. Cousins mused aloud, going through his list. "Ah! Here, here we go. Julian Mataffa."

"Julie?" Ashley sneered.

"Hmm? No, Julian. I'm sure you remember him. He was pretty big," Mr. Cousins said. "He charges twenty five an hour so he's actually very reasonable."

Ashley did remember Julian and Julianna Mataffa, the Samoan twins. She and her mindless drones had called Julian 'Julie' and had called his sister 'Siamese,' even though the hapless girl kept insisting she was Samoan.' And 'pretty big' was an understatement. Julie was six five and two hundred and fifty pounds. Coach Yaks had almost peed on himself seeing the hulking young man. Until he found out that Julian was big and slow and clumsy. Putting him on offense to block? The defense just walked around him. Putting him on defense to do some tackling, the offense just shoved him aside.

Shelly did not have the time to get together with Ashley; she was at her father's house. Since Andrew Cronaur was a police officer with the Elgee Police Force, Ashley and Shelly did not dare smoke weed in his house.

At home in the sanctity of her bedroom, Ashley called the telephone number Mr. Cousins had given to her. She got Julian Mataffa's voice mail and Ashley was prepared to disconnect; she was Ashley St. Martin. She did not leave messages.

"Hey uh, Julie...an," Ashley said. I uh, this, hi, this is Ashley St. Martin. Uh, Mr. Cousins gave me your phone number because I need tutoring in Biology, yeah I'm in summer school and I need this stupid class and he says you do tutoring..."

Julian returned Ashley's phone call forty minutes later. He set up a time for them to meet at his house and hung up.

Arriving at his home the next afternoon, Ashley was impressed. The Mataffa family lived in a very nice neighborhood, a new subdivision in Kimble, Louisiana. A Latina answered the door and nodded, saying that Mr. Mataffa was expecting her; he was in the study.

"I have to tell you," Julian said, nodding to a chair across the desk from himself. "That message? 'Hi Julie...an?' I almost didn't return your call. But, the gentleman in me said to do the right thing."

"I, yeah, I, I'm sorry about that," Ashley stammered, looking into his unreadable dark almond eyes.

"Julian, I left my stuff in your car," Julianna said, entering the study through another door. "Oh! I, I'm sorry; I didn't realize you were in a session."

"We're just getting started; the keys are in the bowl," Julian said.

"Uh. No, they're not. Check your pockets?" Julianna suggested.

"Hmm. Well, that's what I said. The keys are in my pocket," Julian smiled, pulling his car keys out.

"Goof," Julianna smiled and kissed him on his cheek. "I'll put them in the bowl, hear? Hi Ashley, bye Ashley."

"Uh huh," Ashley said, flipping her notebook open to a blank page.

Julian tutored Ashley for fifty minutes. Her head was swimming by the time he sat back and closed his text book. He cleared his throat as a befuddled Ashley walked toward the door.

"Hmm? Oh! Oh, uh duh," Ashley giggled and pulled a crisp one hundred dollar bill out of her purse. "You uh, you got change for..."

Julian's eyes were still unreadable as he rapidly made change. Ashely left, her ego suffering another blow. She was sure he wouldn't be able to make change. His inability to make change for a one hundred dollar bill would give her superiority over him.

After their third session, though, Ashley noticed something. She would never become a biologist, but she wasn't as hopelessly lost in Mr. Cousins' class. And, transferring her newfound knowledge of how to study, and what to study to her Algebra class, Ashley was beginning to make some sense of the hodge-podge of numerical information.

Two weeks before the summer session was to end, Ashley opened her locker to retrieve her purse and cell phone. A glossy eight by ten black and white photograph of herself, head buried between Shelly's legs dropped onto the floor. Ashley let out a squeal and grabbed the offensive photograph.

There was a phone number written at the bottom of the offensive photograph. Ashley paid the number no mind as she ripped the photograph to shreds into a nearby garbage can.

'Bitch, you better call,' was on the next day's photograph that showed her with her hand down the front of her shorts as she serviced Shelly.

"Hello?" a much shaken Ashley asked.

"Hello Ashley," a heavily modified voice growled into Ashely's ear. "Hmm. I wonder, what would your mother say if she saw these pictures? Or your step-father? Oh, I know, your daddy wouldn't care but..."

"Fuck you!" Ashley screamed and disconnected the call.

Ashley's fingers shook as she blocked the number. A call to Shelly's number went unanswered so Ashley drove home and made herself some lunch. Then she drove to her tutoring session.

Ashley smirked as she and Julian worked together. Her top was another loose halter top and Julian's eyes kept gravitating toward her 30C breasts. When she sat back and crossed her legs, Julian noticed.

The next day in school, Beth Neidemeyer asked Ashley to stay after class for a moment. Ashley smirked; apparently Mrs. Neidemeyer needed some more money. She figured she could finagle an 'A' in the class, rather than the 'B' she currently carried.

The moment the last student left, Beth Neidemeyer's hand shot out and lifted Ashley from her desk by her throat. Beth shoved a photograph of Ashley counting the dollar bills out onto Beth Neidemeyer's desk while Beth watched.

"Listen here, you little fucking cunt," Beth snarled hatefully into Ashley's terrified face. "I don't know what kind of game you think you're playing, but this photograph? Better fucking disappear, or you will disappear. Got it?"

"I, I'm not..." Ashley protested but Beth shook Ashley like a rag doll.

"Got it? Any pictures you have? Disappear. Hear me?" Beth snarled, tightening her grip on Ashley's throat.

A much shaken Ashley opened her locker and found another photograph of herself counting out the money and Beth Neidemeyer watching. The words 'call me' and the phone number were at the bottom of the photograph. Ashley again ripped up the photograph.

"Hello Ashley, what a pleasant surprise," the voice mocked.

"Fuck you," Ashley spat. "Listen, I'm not playing this fucking game."

"Oh, Ashley, it's no game," the voice laughed.

Ashley again ended the call. She called Shelly but Shelly said she was too busy to get together with Ashley.

The next day's photograph was of Shelly taking a hit from her bong. 'Call me' was written on the bottom of the 8 X 10, along with the phone number.

Ashley's phone had a text from Shelly, asking Ashley to call her. Ashley got into her car before hitting the contact.

"My dad gets those pictures, my ass is grass," Shelly snarled. "And bitch? After? I'm coming for you. Hear?"

"Well hello Ashley. What a pleasant surprise," the heavily modulated voice mocked.

"What do you want?" Ashley demanded.

"Hmm? What do I want? What do I want?" the voice hummed. "Well, Ashley, what as everyone ever wanted from you?"

"I, money? I, how much?" Ashley asked, sweating despite her car's air-conditioning blowing directly on her.

"Money? Oh no, Ashley St. Martin. I have money," the voice laughed.

The modulation device made the laughter sound truly evil and Ashley choked back a sob of fear. This was not the time to show any fear. She was Ashley Veronica St. Martin; she was the queen, she was in charge.

"No, Ashley St. Martin. I want to fuck you. I want to fuck your pretty little face," the voice snarled. "I want to fuck your cute little blonde pussy. I want to fuck that perfect little ass you're so proud of, always waving it around..."

"Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck you!" Ashley screamed into the phone.

"Exactly. And they say blondes are dumb," the voice chuckled. "So...Ashley St. Martin, do we have a deal?"

"We, no, we don't have a deal," Ashley snarled hatefully.