“Hello?” I heard Tracy’s voice.
“Hi Tracy,” I said. “It’s Shannon.”
“Hi Shannon,” her voice was flat and unemotional. I must have really pissed her off somehow.
“I, um,” I hesitated. I didn’t know exactly what to say, since I didn’t know what I’d done wrong. “I just wanted to apologize…”
“You do? For what?” Now Tracy’s voice sounded surprised.
“Well, I got the feeling that I upset you earlier, somehow,” I said. Then, in a quiet, meek voice, “Or, maybe, um, I wasn’t that good of a lover.”
“Oh Shannon, of course you didn’t upset me,” Tracy said. “In fact, I think I should apologize to you. I guess I let my frustration get the better of me.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. Thank God, I thought. At least she doesn’t think that I’m a lousy lay-
“And don’t worry about the sex,” she said, breaking into my thoughts. “Everyone’s first time is a disappointment, right?”
I felt my heart leap into my throat. I tried swallowing, but it was difficult. “Oh, uh, yeah, I guess so,” I sputtered, trying to sound nonchalant.
“Don’t worry about it, sweetie,” she said. “You’ll get better in time.”
I drove in stunned silence, unable to respond to her. This was a complete shock to me. I had thought that the sex had been incredible. We both had had mind-blowing orgasms. I had taken all but a couple of inches of the dildo on my first try! She had come all over my mouth.
Not only did it not make sense, but it didn’t seem fair.
“At least you were able to make a couple mistakes before you tried it with a real boy, right?” she asked. “Can you imagine what that would be like, before you had a chance to practice more?”
The hairs stood up on the back of my neck. “Well, actually,” I said slowly.
“Wait, Shannon, did you just do the nasty with some boy?” Tracy asked. I could hear the surprise in her voice. There was a sing-song quality to it.
“Yeah,” I admitted. All of a sudden I wasn’t sure that I really wanted to tell her anything. Obviously, she thought I hadn’t been ready yet, and she was concerned I was going to be a terrible fuck.
“He seemed to enjoy it,” I said, somewhat defensively.
I heard a chuckle come through the line. “Well, of course he did,” Tracy laughed. “It’s like pushing a button, it’s so easy.”
My pride in my accomplishment vanished. Still, I felt a need to justify myself somehow. “He came hard,” I said. “And a lot.”
“Ah, yes,” Tracy said, and it sounded like she was remembering past times. “The energy of a young man. Wait, it was a young man, right? I mean, you didn’t go out and have sex with some strange old guy, did you?”
Shocked, I reacted with a stronger response than I probably intended. “Of course not!”
She laughed even harder. “Hey, don’t knock it!” she said. “When I was your age, I had lots of experience with older men. There are some bar bathrooms that could tell you pretty racy stories about me!”
With that, she started giggling. I wasn’t laughing, however. “He’s just a guy in my grade from my school,” I said, annoyed.
“At least you got a little more experience, then,” Tracy said. “Good for you. What was it, a blow job? Hand job? Did you fuck him?” She drew the last sentence out in a slow, lascivious drawl.
“Yes, yes, and yes,” I said, defiantly. “He came all over my chest, and then he went down on me until I came.”
There. I said it. Even after I did, though, I felt petulant and bratty. This wasn’t the conversation I had wanted to have, and she didn’t sound impressed at all.
“He ate you out?” she asked. Now she sounded impressed. “Well, he’s definitely a keeper. Well, he is if he’s not just looking to brag to his friends.”
That got my attention. I hadn’t really thought about the social consequences of what we had done. “I don’t think that he will,” I said, trying to pass it off as a non-issue. “He’s not like that.”
At least, I thought he wasn’t like that.
I thought about Andrew and his home life, about how he never hung around after school or buddied around with friends that I could see. He seemed like a boy who carried a burden with each step, and I simply couldn’t imagine that he would do something like that.
“Oh, honey,” Tracy said sympathetically. “Of course he isn’t. Until he is.”
“He’s a new kid at school,” I argued. “He just moved here about a month ago. He’s a military brat, and doesn’t have any friends yet.”
“Oh, so he couldn’t use this to start making friends?” Tracy suggested. “This wouldn’t improve his status in school?”
I hadn’t thought of that. My heart sank.
“Look, sweetie,” Tracy said, trying to soothe me. “I’m not saying he will do that. All I’m saying is that someone like you, with certain… challenges… really needs to make sure that you’ve got a reason for someone to stick around.”
Challenges? What the fuck did she mean? Did she mean my tits? I thought she loved my tits! I couldn’t think of what else she could mean.
“So that’s okay,” she said, sounding like she was trying to reassure me. “If he really did have a good time – and you could be right, he may have – then he’ll probably want to do it again, right? So, if you play your cards right, you may get another chance, maybe.”
Doubt flooded over me. Now I had no idea what could be going through Andrew’s head. Could he have been asking me to leave right afterwards because he wanted me gone? Could he have been lying about his parents coming home?
“Yeah, I- I guess so,” I agreed.
“Okay, so he came on your chest,” Tracy said, returning to the subject I originally wanted to talk about. “Tell me more.”
A flicker of the flame of pride came back to life at that. “It was incredible,” I said. “I had him in my pussy but we didn’t have a condom so he came on my tits.”
I felt a warm feeling growing in my stomach as I remembered pulling him out of my cunt and feeling the rush of his ejaculation through the skin of his penis with my hand. I wanted to feel that again, along with the splash of liquid on my chest. My nipples wanted to feel the hot fluid as well, and I wondered if I could get him to shoot on one, and then the other. Could he shoot as many times again?
“Oh, that’s hot,” Tracy said, and I loved her approval. “Was it his idea to come on your tits?”
“No, it was mine,” I said. “I wanted to watch him come. I’ve never seen that before – not in real life, anyway – and I really wanted to watch him shoot.”
“Oh,” Tracy said, and instantly I knew something was wrong.
“What?” I asked, worried.
“Nothing, sweetie,” she said. “Don’t worry about it.”
Like that was going to happen. “No, what?” I insisted.
“It’s just,” she said, and then stopped. I waited with horrified tension until she spoke. “It’s just most men want to finish inside you, not on you.”
Oh shit. Had I been so wrapped up in what I wanted that I completely ignored what he wanted?
“But I’m not on the pill yet,” I said, defensively.
“Oh, honey, come on,” she chastised me. “Don’t you have a mouth? An ass?”
“I-” I started, and then stopped. I hadn’t thought about that at all. I had Andrew in my mouth, and then my pussy. Couldn’t I had found the trifecta?
Yeah, baby! Team SUAFM rooted in my head. That would have been an awesome first-time story!
“But like I said,” she continued dismissively. “He’s probably just happy that he got to bust a nut. He probably didn’t even notice that you weren’t really thinking about what he wanted.”
She made it sound mechanical, almost as if it didn’t really matter if I was there or not. No, wait. She made it sound as if it didn’t really matter if he was there or not. Wasn’t that the point? That I had been selfish?
My mind amped up to a panic mode. I seriously contemplated turning the car around and going back to Andrew’s house and sucking him off until he came and I swallowed every drop. I would have done it, too, if it hadn’t been for the fact that I never wanted to see his parents again.
Tracy’s words stabbed into me like a knife. Was I a selfish lover? I thought back to how I was feeling when she was making love to me, and how I had been so wrapped up in what she was doing that I didn’t really pay as much attention to her. It was so overwhelming.
Excuses, excuses, Team Morality scolded me. Then another thought hit me like a ton of bricks. She’s telling you that you were selfish with her too, you idiot.
“But he went down on me,” I muttered, mostly to myself.
Tracy picked up on it, though. “And that’s great!” she said enthusiastically. “Was he good?”
“He was fantastic,” I said, but the thought that he was so good, and I was so bad, made me feel even more guilty. “He wanted me to talk to him and tell him what I liked, and he did what I told him to do.”
The words came out in a rush, as if I was trying to will acceptance from Tracy. I didn’t even know what I wanted from her, but I felt as if I needed to continue to try to find a way to get it.
“Oh, Shannon, that’s the best kind,” Tracy said. “A boy who loves hearing you show him how to please you. Did he tell you what he liked?”
I frowned. “No,” I admitted.
“Oh,” she said, and then paused. “Did you ask him what he liked?”
My heart sank. “No,” I confessed.
Again, she merely said, “Oh.”
I drove on in silence for a few moments, unsure of what to say. Tracy was right. I was a selfish, crappy lover. Everything was about me, me, me!
“Well, I wouldn’t worry about it too much,” Tracy said, sounding chipper. “At least you got laid! And you came during your first sex with a boy! Congrats!”
“Thanks,” I said, but there was no true gratitude in my voice. I had wanted Tracy to be impressed, and despite her tone it was obvious that I had failed in that mission, too.
“Trust me,” she said. “Boys are incredibly resilient. Now that he knows that you like sex, he’s probably not going to go anywhere yet. You’ll likely have plenty of time to get better with him, too.”
There was that phrase again. Get better. I felt a determination rise in me to do just that. I needed to get better.
It didn’t change how I felt now, though. At the time, the sex with Tracy had been the absolute best thing I’d ever felt in my entire life. It never dawned on me that it wouldn’t even register on her scale. Sex with Andrew had been fun, even though he didn’t have the equipment that I had sitting in a drawer in my bedroom and had started getting used to.
Was that why I had – I gulped as the realization dawned on me – been such a selfish bitch? Because Andrew was so much smaller than I had already stuffed inside my mouth and pussy? Was I becoming a snobbish size queen?
“Look, Shannon,” Tracy said. “I have to go. Your father gave me a key to his condo and I want to get over there and surprise him when he gets home.”
My mind shifted gears. He wasn’t home yet? He had left my house hours ago.
“He’s not there?” I asked.
“No, he had to go do that work thing, remember?”
“Oh, yeah,” I said. “I forgot.”
“Well, when he gets home, I intend to help him forget all about that,” Tracy said, lewdly. “You’ve given me some great ideas, and I can’t wait to suck all of that sweet release down my throat. He loves that. Thanks, Shannon! Bye-e-e!”
Again with the sing-song voice, leaving me with a false upbeat conclusion to our conversation.
He loves that. I knew that she added that in on purpose, just to turn the screws. It was just enough of a reminder that she knew how to please men, and I knew nothing. I was put off by her turn of phrase, too. Sweet release. That just seemed wrong too, somehow.
Oh, like you’re in a position to judge, Team Morality spoke up.
TM was right, of course. Tracy had the talent, the experience, and the relationship with my father to earn the right to use whatever phrase she wished. I, on the other hand, felt lost and uncertain. I thought I had been making progress, breaking down my barriers.
I thought about what she said about Andrew, and felt the rise of paranoia in my chest. Had I simply been a piece of meat to him? After all, he had been locked away under his parents’ thumb and just needed to get that “sweet release” himself. I was there, I was willing, so what else was there?
Could Andrew be looking for a way to “get in” with other people at school? Somehow I doubted that. I got the feeling that he was, like me, marking time until graduation and simply didn’t want to get involved in cliques. Or, could it be that I was projecting my own desires onto him?
I banged my hand against the steering wheel, frustrated. How could I have been so clueless? The feeling was vague and nebulous, but I couldn’t get it out of my head that I had, somehow, made a huge mistake – not in having sex with Andrew, but rather not understanding that maybe I wasn’t good enough to have sex with Andrew. I should have practiced more.
Tracy is just jealous, Team SUAFM piped up.
Yeah, right. As if.
I needed to talk with Andrew, so I told my phone to send him a text. “Send a text to Andrew,” I recited.
“What do you want to say?” my phone asked me.
I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out. What could I say that didn’t sound like a complete crazy person? “Had a great time tonight, period,” I quoted. “Are you available for a chat?”
The phone repeated back to me what I wrote, and asked if I was ready to send. Hearing it out loud, it all felt wrong. The words hung in the air and sounded incredibly desperate. Clingy. I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. After a few moments, the phone beeped and the text went away.
A few moments later, a notification popped up on my car’s screen. “Andrew sent you a new text message,” my car reported. “Would you like to hear it now?”
I got shivers down my spine. Did my text actually send? Surely the phone didn’t send it without me saying so, right?
“Yes,” I told my car.
“Andrew says,” the car intoned, “‘Talk tomorrow.’ Would you like to reply?”
Wait, what did that mean? Did I actually send him a message, or was he just texting me out of the blue to tell me that he wanted to talk? Was this a “talk,” or just a talk? Was this good or bad, dammit!?
“Yes,” I said, before the phone timed out.
“What would you like to say?”
I swallowed. “‘Okay’,” I said.
I didn’t feel okay at all. After my talk with Tracy, I felt very, very un-okay. Only a few minutes before I had been high as a kite, relishing in my newfound de-virginification. I had felt powerful in my newfound sexuality, only to have it all come crashing down with a superdose of harsh reality from Tracy.
Not only that, but I didn’t have anyone to talk to about how I was feeling. Tracy was going to be giving my father a huge, wet, sloppy blowjob and then cuddle up next to him, and I found myself wanting to be the cuddlee instead. I could go home, take out the dildo and pretend to suck it off, but it wouldn’t provide me with the comfort of being close to him that I truly wanted.
I began to understand Tracy’s point of view even more now. For years she must have felt like I was feeling – alone, desperately wanting to have both the sexual gratification that my father’s cock could provide, and have the man to hold afterwards. I thought about Andrew, and realized that I couldn’t have either. I felt like there was something magical just beyond my reach, something that I had been allowed to sample but wasn’t permitted to own, and there was nothing I could do about it.
That must have been what Tracy had felt like. I couldn’t imagine going so unfulfilled for twenty years. That was longer than I’d been alive! If I had to feel like I did for that long, I… I might just go crazy!
I fucked a lot of cocks, she had said. She had been on a quest to find out how to get rid of this feeling, this agony of having a hole that needs to be filled – both literally and figuratively. It’s not just the cock, it’s the man. It’s not just the man, it’s the cock.
Once more I thought about Andrew. I wasn’t in love with him, and I didn’t know enough about him to know if I even liked him. Hell, I didn’t even know him enough to trust him, but I had fucked him anyway.
And I had loved it.
As I thought about his text, though, I worried. What if he didn’t love it? What if he wanted to tell me that he never wanted to even speak to me again? What if he was angry that I had been so selfish? What would I do?
I pulled into my driveway and pulled my backpack with Andrew’s stained t-shirt onto my lap when I parked. The house was dark, with only a front light to guide my way. My last conversation with my mother came back to haunt me, and I knew that I was going to have to apologize to her, but I really didn’t want to do that right now.
The feelings that went through me sent me spinning. I felt paranoid, worried, and not just a little bit horny – all from remembering what Andrew and I had done. Somehow, though, I needed to put that aside and brace myself to face my mother.
Upon entering the house, however, it was dark. All the lights were out, save for a small, solitary light above the stove in the kitchen. I checked the time, and realized that it was indeed late, but not so late as to have my mother check herself out for the evening.
“Mom?” I called quietly, trying to strike that balance between getting her attention and not waking her up if she was asleep. No answer.
I crept over to the stove and hit the button to turn off the light, the confirming beep sounding like an alarm in the otherwise stillness of the kitchen. I decided that now was as good a time as any to take care of Andrew’s t-shirt, and I tried to be as quiet as I could as I went into my room and gathered up clothes to take to the laundry room.
My mother’s room was dark, the door closed and no light appearing underneath. In and of itself, that was odd, but I felt a slight relief. Normally she slept with the door open. I hurried past as quietly as I could, and then returned with an armful of clothes.
I pulled open my backpack and fished out his t-shirt and just as I was about to throw it into the washing machine, I raised it to my face. I could smell him and the dried, stickiness and recoiled a little. It had grown more pungent while in my bag, and not in a good way. I supposed there was a part of me that had wanted to luxuriate in the memory of spending time with him while holding his shirt, but that romantic notion was dispelled quickly.
Turning the washing machine on for only a quick wash, I returned back to my room and once more contemplated my mother’s closed door. I moved back over to it, and listened carefully. I was surprised to hear a sniff, and then another.
I raised my hand and lightly rapped on the door. “Mom?” I asked in a near whisper. The sniffing stopped, and no other sound came from inside the room.
I was about to try again, when something told me that it wasn’t a really good idea. I thought about how, when I was a kid, I would crawl into bed with her and she would wrap her arms around me when I had had a nightmare, and the comfort she had given me. I wanted that comfort now, wanted her to tell me it was all right. That it was going to be all right.
Then I realized that I needed a shower, and even if I hadn’t yelled at her before leaving the house it probably wouldn’t be a good idea to jump into her bed with a boy’s dried semen all over my body.
I lowered my hand, feeling disappointed and guilty, and went to go prepare to take a shower and then throw the clothes into the dryer so that I could go to bed.
What, no video tonight? I thought to myself. I couldn’t tell which Team was taunting me, but I was too tired and worn out to be bothered.
When I finally did get to fall asleep, my dreams were restless and chaotic. Once again, I dreamt I was Punk Girl, but this time I was thrashing about on Andrew’s dick, riding him like a crazed banshee. He was upset with me, because every time he tried to come inside me, I would pull him out so that he could finish on my face, or chest, or body, or even spray my pussy.
“Would you just let me finish the way I want?” he protested.
I laughed at him, and jerked him off onto my face. “I’m in charge!” I cackled. My voice was shrill and harsh, almost as if I were the witch in the Wizard of Oz.
“See?” Tracy said to me, from out of nowhere. “One day you’ll learn how to be a good lover.”
My dream self didn’t seem to have any emotional filters, so everything was raw and callow. My shame at being called out was matched only by my attitude of defiance.
“So what?” I snarled. I went up to Tracy and grabbed her by the back of the neck and pulled her in for a deep kiss, Andrew’s come on my face smearing across hers. I expected her to fight me, but instead she grabbed my ass with one hand and pulled me into her groin.
I could feel the rough patch of hair between her legs slightly scratch my smooth pussy as she ground into me. It became a contest of wills. Everything I did, she matched me and surpassed me. I could feel her pulsing against me, bringing me closer to orgasm.
“See, Andrew?” Tracy asked. In the magic of dreams, Andrew was suddenly behind her and fucking her. “She’s already coming. Everything is about her.”
“Damn right it is!” I snarled, and took her hand and jammed it up my cunt. The leather skirt that I was now wearing was bunched up around my waist, and I could feel her fingers curl and pull at my G-spot.
“Don’t worry, Andrew,” Tracy said, but was looking straight at me. “You can come inside me if you want.”
My own orgasm was building, and I held her hand steady as she fingered me and fucked it hard. I watched Andrew’s face as he fucked Tracy, his hands firmly on her hips and ass to guide him. His right hand started moving closer to her asshole, and she jerked her head back.
“No!” she practically shouted. “Not there.” Then, a bit more sweetly, “come in my pussy, Andrew. I’ll let you do that.”
Andrew redoubled his grip on her hips and drove his cock home. Tracy looked at me once more, and then pulled my come-covered body against hers. Her breasts, gorgeous and tempting, glistened as the fluid was transferred.
“See, Shannon?” she taunted. “It’s not always about you.”
I looked past Tracy to see Andrew’s pace picking up, and his moans and grunts getting louder. He was obviously very close.
“Doesn’t that sound amazing?” she said. She sounded as if she was reciting a book report, bored and practically disinterested. “That’s what happens when you actually stop thinking about yourself for a moment and pay attention to his needs.”
“Oh god,” Andrew was gasping. “I’m going to come soon!”
Tracy held me at arm’s length. “Tell him to do it,” Tracy instructed me.
“I want to see,” I protested. I looked at her, and then at him, and then back again. “I want to see him come.”
Suddenly I was standing next to them, no longer wearing the leather vest and no longer naked. I was wearing jeans and a t-shirt – his t-shirt, and I wanted to watch him come all over me wearing it.
Andrew looked over at me and smiled. “You look good in my t-shirt,” he said.
I was no longer Punk Girl, I was now regular old Shannon. Shy, demure. “Do you want to come on me while I wear it?” I asked.
Andrew rolled his eyes, and sighed. “Fine,” he said in the same tone of voice you’d expect when you tell a thirteen year old to put down his video game controller and take out the trash.
He pulled out of Tracy’s pussy and aimed his cock at me. “Don’t worry,” he said, now irritated. “I’ll do it. I’ll do what you want.”
Just like that, he had an orgasm. He thrust his hips forward, and I tried to reach for him again. I wanted to feel it rush through his cock like it did before. I wanted to feel the hotness on my skin.
I didn’t get to him in time, though, and he began to erupt before I had a chance to get very far. Just like before, long ropes arced through the air and landed on me, but this time I was robbed of the searing heat by the t-shirt. I could only feel the weight of the t-shirt move as the streams hit it. All of the exciting sensations were neutered.
Even so, I loved watching him come. It was beautiful in its own way, but it was missing the sound of his voice as he strained through his orgasm. I realized that that was a much greater turn on for me.
“There,” Tracy said. “You got what you wanted. Again.”
With that, she got on her knees and took him in her mouth. “It’s okay, baby,” she said to Andrew. “Go ahead and come in my mouth now.”
She began sucking him, and Andrew’s voice once again found its way into my ears, but this time with even more excitement and passion. He loved what she was doing, and she was getting off on it. Andrew was about half the size of my father, but Tracy didn’t seem to care. To her, it was as if she had just won the grand prize by being able to suck him off.
Andrew groaned and placed a hand on the top of her head. He didn’t pull, but he needed to steady himself as he unloaded into her mouth. His hips seemed to grind into her face in a lewd dance. I watched his shaft pulse and throb as he came, and I could imagine him pumping her completely full. Tracy moaned and gasped, her hands flying to her own pussy to make herself come. She screamed around his dick, the sound muffled but no less intense.
“Oh, man,” Andrew said as Tracy held him in her mouth as he came down from his high. He began brushing her hair out of her face, lovingly. “That was amazing. That was the best orgasm I ever had!”
His words hurt, feeling like they were pointed directly at me.
“Mmm hmm,” Tracy agreed, and then she took it out of her mouth to begin licking his softening penis with tender caresses of her tongue. She looked like she was licking an ice cream cone.
“Do you want to cuddle?” Andrew asked, his breathing returning to normal. Tracy pulled him down, and crawled into his arms.
I felt like a third wheel. “But… but…” I sputtered.
Tracy looked at me. “But what?” she asked with fake innocence
“Andrew’s come twice,” I protested, “and you’ve come once. But I haven’t come at all!”
“Sometimes that’s what happens,” she said, shrugging and cuddling closer to Andrew. “When you only care about yourself, Shannon, sometimes you wind up with nothing.”
Andrew said nothing, but merely stroked Tracy’s hair. “You really do have a lot to learn that I can teach you,” Tracy continued. “So much to learn. Then you can be as good as the rest of us.”
I woke up at that, yanked out of my dream as if pulled by a fishing line out of the water. Wide awake, I recoiled at its memory as I tried to process it.
Good morning, sunshine, Team Morality sneered. Have any interesting dreams lately?
I looked over at my phone, and saw that the alarm was going to go off in merely three minutes anyway. Begrudgingly, I got up.
What the fuck did that mean? I wondered.
My brain really could be totally fucked up. Obviously, I had some pretty serious latent guilt issues about not treating Andrew right, and I felt like I owed it to him to somehow make up for it.
I got up and started going about my morning routine, but it was all off kilter. I couldn’t seem to coordinate with my mother at all. Her bedroom door remained closed, and I hadn’t heard a sound all morning. I was starting to get a little worried.
I waited until I had everything put together in order to leave for school, took the t-shirt from the laundry, and then went over to her door to knock on it. Just as I was about to, though, I heard the water start in her shower, so I guess she was okay after all.
“Mom?” I called. “I’m leaving for school!”
“Ok,” came the reply. She sounded okay, but it was hard to tell.
“Ok,” I repeated back, uncertain. A moment passed, and I added, “Have a good day.”
I turned to leave but hesitated, hoping that she might say something else. All I heard was the shower, however, and reluctantly left for school.
Most dreams vaporize into mist within a few moments of waking, but this last one haunted me in pristine resolution. I spent the entire drive to school on autopilot, trying to figure out what everything meant. I wasn’t even sure how I got there, to be honest – I was so wrapped up in my thoughts.
When I finally got to school, something felt wrong. The faculty parking lot only had a couple of cars in it, and the student lot was completely empty except for a single, solitary car parked in one of the spaces closest to the school.
I grabbed a spot close to the doors as well, and turned off the engine. I looked around, confused. Where was everyone?
Then I looked at my watch and rolled my eyes at my own stupidity. I was a full forty-five minutes earlier than before the doors were unlocked. I closed my eyes and pinched my nose. Unreal.
A soft tapping on the window startled me, and I couldn’t suppress a small squeak and a jump. Standing outside my car door, his breath visible in the chilly morning air, stood Andrew.
“Andrew?” I asked, disbelieving my eyes. “What are you doing here?”
He looked as surprised to see me as I was him. “I was about to ask you the same thing,” he said. “Nobody is ever here this early.”
“Yeah, well,” I began as he began waving me out of the car. “I guess I lost track of time.”
“Come on,” he said. “Let’s get inside. It’s cold out here.”
“But all the doors are locked, and will be for the next forty-five minutes,” I argued.
“Not all the doors,” he said. “Come on!”
I grabbed my bag and got out of the car. He had already started walking towards the building, but not towards the doors right in front of us.
“Hey, wait up!” I said. I was still surprised that he was there. I mean, I had screwed up on the time, but it seemed unlikely that he did too.
“I just wasn’t really paying attention,” I told him as we walked. “And I guess I got all mixed up. What about you? You too?”
He shook his head. “No, I’m always here this early,” he said. “It’s the only time I can get some peace and quiet.”
I thought back to his parents, and then it made complete sense. Andrew sounded like he had been reading my thoughts. “I want to get some time to myself as much as I can, even if it’s only a little less than an hour each day.”
We walked around the building, until we came to a nondescript door with no handle on it. As far as I could tell, there was no way to get into the building through that door. Andrew knocked on the door, and a few moments later I heard the latch click and the door swung open.
Mr. Hernandez, the school technician, stood in front of us and glowered at us. At least, it always looked like Mr. Hernandez was glowering. He just had a normal, standard glowering look that all school handymen seem to have. Sorry, technicians. Somewhere in the job description, there was probably “Must have at least 10 years experience glowering.”
“Hello Andrew,” he said, and then looked at me.
“Hi Mr. Hernandez,” Andrew said calmly. He tilted his head in my direction. “She got here early today. It’s okay, she’s cool.”
Mr. Hernandez swung the door farther, and stepped to the side so we could pass. “Andrew,” he said, still glowering. “You know that if people found out I let you in before the doors unlock I could get into trouble.”
“I know,” Andrew said. “She’s not going to tell anyone either. She’s in a similar situation as I am.”
I looked from Andrew to Mr. Hernandez, who still glowered at me. I wasn’t sure what ‘situation’ Andrew was talking about, but I nodded my head anyway.
Mr. Hernandez slowly nodded as well, and said, “just don’t get me into trouble, Andrew.”
With that, he returned to his workbench – to practice on his glowering, I suppose.
“Come on,” Andrew said, and walked through Mr. Hernandez’ office-workshop until we were in a maintenance corridor to get back to the main part of the school.
I looked at him questioningly. He shrugged, “Sometimes the best entrance is the exit,” he said.
Andrew’s ingenuity impressed me, and once again I felt compelled to confess my sins to him and apologize for being selfish the previous night. I began to remember my dream, and everything Tracy said over the phone. I made up my mind, then and there, about what I had to do. I needed to find some privacy, though.
As we passed a door, I checked it. Locked. Another one, and still locked.
“What are you doing?” Andrew asked, looking concerned.
“I’m trying to find – ah, there we go!” I answered, and pushed him across the hall through a door that I knew wasn’t locked.
“Well, we have to be careful that the SRO won’t see you – Hey!” Andrew protested in mid-sentence.
There is absolutely nothing sexy about a girl’s bathroom. If anything, it has a negative sexy rating. If you are horny as hell, it can suck the horniness right out of you like a parasite.
For a girl on a mission, though, it was just what I needed. There weren’t going to be any students for more than a half an hour, and the male school resource officer wasn’t going to check the girl’s bathroom on a whim.
I backed Andrew up against a sink, and I kissed him. Surprised at first, he gradually began to respond to my affection. Book bags fell to the floor. I could feel his body start to respond and relax, his arms wrapping around me to bring me in. I pressed my hip against him, and with our height differences I could feel a stirring against my tummy from his groin.
“I really enjoyed myself last night,” I said, my voice a bit more hoarse than I was expecting.
He smiled. “I did too.”
I don’t know why that answer caught me off guard, but it did. It also made me feel much better, for some reason. I had been expecting him to stop me, to tell me that I was selfish, that he didn’t want to “see” me.
I began running my hands up and down his chest, feeling the masculine strength under his clothes. He wasn’t a jock, but he obviously had muscles there – and I found that very exciting.
His hands snaked down my back to grab my ass, and he squeezed and pulled me against him. I found my pussy make contact with his thigh, and it felt good.
“I’ve been thinking about your amazing ass ever since you left my house,” he said, grabbing a good feel.
“Ohhmmm,” my moan muffled as he kissed me again. I felt his lips slip between mine, and then his tongue began to explore my mouth. I returned with my own assertiveness, and to my shock he actually whimpered. The sound went straight through my ears to my pussy.
Just like that, Andrew grew rock hard. I could feel it against me, and a surge of power went through me.
I made that happen. That was me.
“I think I owe you an apology for last night,” I said.
He looked at me, thoroughly confused. “For what?” My hands found his belt. His eyes grew wide and he looked to the door.
“What are you doing?” he cried, panic rising in his voice.
“Last night I was selfish,” I confessed to him, feeling like I needed to apologize for my behavior. I unzipped his fly. “I wanted to see you come, but I know that you would have much rather come in me, not on me.”
I fished his cock out of his underwear, which throbbed in anticipation. I grabbed him with my hand, and slid down onto my knees until I had his cock right in front of my face.
“Shannon,” he said. “I love the fact that you’re so kinky, but that door isn’t locked. Anyone could come in here!”
“Well,” I said, smiling, “you’ll just have to come in my mouth before someone does!”
I giggled, and then stuffed his dick into my mouth. I felt like I had to rush before he could stop me. The anxiety of needing to prove to him that I was better than last night pressed me onward, and I started sucking him straight away with no foreplay.
Once again, Andrew moaned and his hands flew to my head. For a moment I thought I felt him try to pull me away, but if that had been his intention then he changed his mind immediately.
I had had his cock in my mouth last night, but this time I felt like I was paying better attention. Then, I had marveled at the ease of which I had been able to deep throat him after spending time with the dildo. That hadn’t changed, but now I was paying even more attention to how he felt in my mouth.
“Oh god, Shannon,” he gasped. “You’re… amazing…!”
I brought a hand up to cup his balls, and felt them rest in my palm. They felt much heavier than I expected, and couldn’t remember if I had even played with them at all before. If I hadn’t, I was going to make up for it now.
His balls felt strange in my hand. The skin was smooth, shaved, but it was a slightly different texture than the rest of him. There was a patch on the underside that was smoother than the rest, almost as smooth as a baby’s bottom. Even though Andrew obviously shaved, this small patch felt like they had never grown hair at all.
Inside, I could feel little round balls in the sack. They moved on their own, which shocked me. I found myself fascinated by how they reacted to my touch, and wanted to play with them even more. I stroked him with my nails, and the skin crinkled in response. It was adorable.
I placed my other hand at his root, and pressed down like had seen in the porn videos. To my surprise, it seemed to work better this way, and he popped his pelvis forward out of instinct and moaned. His cock seemed to stretch to reach out for me when I did this, and he muttered something that I couldn’t make out.
“Oh god,” he said, and I finally understood him.
He wasn’t the only one enjoying this. I whimpered as I felt him respond to me, which I think seemed to turn him on as well. It never dawned on me that sounds could be so sexy – after all, let’s face it. Porn doesn’t exactly have the best noises.
I tried to see if there was some connection between what I did and the noises he made. I held his cock steady in my hands and licked his shaft and ran my tongue over his head. He shuddered when I did that, and I smiled to myself that I had found some magic places to really get him to moan.
Just then, I had an epiphany. Porn isn’t sex. It has sexual acts, but it isn’t actual sex. Sex involves all the senses, all of the connections. Physical, emotional, mental – everything. That’s sex.
His hands tried to brace himself against the counter, but had a hard time finding purchase there. His pelvis jerked spastically when I curled my tongue up under his glans, my lips playing with the helmet, and he struggled to keep his balance.
When I finally put him back in my mouth and slowly descended until my lips met my fingers, his whimper came out in a long breath. I could feel him in the back of my throat, and I held him there for a moment and controlle my breathing through my nose. My own breath flooded over my fingers, and after a moment I could move my tongue just enough to cradle his cock in a side to side motion.
“What… what are you doing?” he asked, amazed.
I lifted myself off of his cock. “Well, if you have to ask,” I teased, smiling. “I must not be doing it right.”
“No,” he stuttered, “I mean-” but he was cut off as I deep-throated him again.
Pulling him out again, I said, “I’m sucking your dick, silly! See?”
With that, I placed the head in my mouth and sucked a little harder than I had before. He gasped in air, his hands waving around in confusion as he had no idea where to put them. He finally put them back on my head, where he started running his fingers through my hair.
I felt immensely proud of myself. I wanted to see if I could get him to react that same way again, so I withdrew and then tightened my mouth even more, and then took him in once more.
He sucked in air until I thought he would pop like a balloon. His cock was so hard I wondered if he would punch a hole in the back of my head, but once again it curved as it hit my throat. I got my whimper once again, and knew I had found a special key to his pleasure. Mine too, apparently.
He moved his hips back and forth in a fucking motion, and I don’t think he could stop himself. I had him in both hands, though, so he wouldn’t have been able to hurt me. I loved having this much control over him!
I wanted to touch myself as I sucked him, wanted to get off on the feeling, but this was about him. I needed to show him that I wasn’t just a selfish nympho.
Once I allowed myself to focus on him, though, I became aware of so many different sensations and feelings. I ran my tongue along his shaft, and a flash of the girls in the porno came into my head. I thought about how they licked my father’s cock, how they made it theirs. They owned it as their own plaything.
Now, I could see the attraction. I held this young man’s penis in my hands and mouth, making it mine. I could feel every ridge, every vein. I found myself particularly enjoying the ridge of his cock head, much to my surprise and his delight. I loved taking my lips and sliding them back and forth, so that when he entered my mouth I could put the tip of my tongue in the divot of his glans.
He stiffened every time I did that, sucking in a huge breath of air and holding it. I loved the sounds he made, knowing that he was enjoying every single thing that I was doing to him. When I tired of playing with the head, I deep throated him, making him almost double over in ecstasy.
“Shannon,” he warned, his voice gaining an edge. “I’m going to come if you don’t stop.”
I took my mouth off his cock. “That’s the idea, Andrew!” I smiled.
I engulfed his dick with my mouth again, and began sucking like I had seen in the videos. I took my cue from Punk Girl, who sucked my father with such enthusiasm that it looked like he was going through hell trying to keep from coming.
It’s not clear how it happened, but when I put him back in my mouth, I pulled him with both hands to get him stuffed inside. He shuddered, and I thought he was going to come right then and there.
Everything seemed to click. My hands fed him into my mouth as I deep throated him, and pushed him away just enough as I withdrew. Over and over, back and forth. Hands and mouth and throat and tongue – all working in concert. I couldn’t help it, I was whimpering with each suck stroke.
It was nothing compared to the noises he was making, though. He was loving it. It seemed he didn’t know whether to inhale or exhale, and his body was completely out of control.
“Don’t stop,” he gasped. “Please, don’t stop!”
I had no intention of stopping. I had started off on a mission, but now I found myself enjoying it too much. I honestly had no idea that giving head could be this much fun.
“Shannon,” he grunted, barely over a whisper. Hearing my name in the throes of his passion drove me onward. I remembered being back in the shower and my father calling me from outside the door, and how desperately I needed to hear my name being called.
“Shannon… oh, god, Shannon, Shannon!” he got my name out just as he thrust his pelvis forward as hard as he could, and then I got my reward. His cock, stuffed in my mouth, grew ten times harder than before, swelling and filling me even more. The head blossomed out, letting know that it was a heartbeat away from –
I had felt the come rush out of his cock with my fingers, but now – oh lord oh lord of merciful lord – I felt it all along my tongue! It raced from the tip of my tongue down towards the back of my throat until it finally, finally blasted down my throat.
Andrew’s hands flew to my head, and this time instead of trying to get me to go deeper, I could tell that he was trying to keep me as still as possible. I tried to do that, but I just wanted to keep bobbing on him. I don’t know how I knew it, but I could tell that he had entered some new phase of arousal, some post-orgasmic, hypersensitive stage.
His body jerked reflexively, barely able to keep himself standing. His breathing was ragged and he struggled to bring it back under control. I waited for him to calm down, but kept massaging his balls and squeezing with my hand in soft, gentle gestures.
I felt his fingers go from holding my head steady to slowly begin stroking my hair again. I looked at him and moaned around his cock, relishing in the sensation of having my hair stroked by a lover.
We locked eyes, and I could read something warm and… and… grateful? I couldn’t read his expression perfectly, but I could tell in that instant that Tracy had been right. Andrew hadn’t looked at me like that last night, so he must have been disappointed that I didn’t let him come inside me.
I backed off his cock, and he helped me get to my feet. I looked down and saw that his cock was still semi-hard, and sopping wet from my mouth. I couldn’t help myself, so I reached down and took it in my hand again. It felt so incredibly hot, and so alive. It flexed when I touched it, and I delighted in its reaction to me.
His hand touched my cheek, and I looked up at him again. “Shannon, I-” he began.
“I’m sorry,” I blurted out, cutting him off.
His eyebrows shot up. He definitely hadn’t been expecting that. “For what?” he asked.
Tracy’s words echoed in my head. He’s too polite to say anything, I thought. “I know I should have let you come in my mouth last night,” I said, the words rushing out. “Or my pussy, but I’m not on the pill and I really, really wanted to watch you come all over my tits but I know that’s not what you really wanted and I’m sorry.”
I took in a deep breath of air after that.
Andrew looked at me as if I had just admitted to being the mastermind behind the Kennedy assassination. “Shannon, what are you talking about?” he asked, incredulous.
I searched his eyes for a clue as to why there was a miscommunication. “I mean,” I said, “I know you didn’t like what we did last night, so I wanted to show you I could be better and-”
The horrified look on his face stopped me dead in my tracks. “Shannon,” he said, searching my face, “Are you joking? Are you playing with me?”
I shook my head. “N-no,” I stuttered. “Wait, what do you mean?”
He looked at me and smiled. “Are you kidding?” he asked rhetorically. “I had the best night of my life last night!”
It was my turn to be confused. “But, you didn’t… I don’t understand,” I said.
He pulled me to him and kissed me. I let him explore my mouth with his tongue, but I focused on the sweetness of his breath and the softness of his lips. He pulled away but didn’t let go of my hair.
“I loved last night,” he said. As if to prove the point, his dick jumped in my hand. I looked down and was amazed that he was hard again.
“I couldn’t stop thinking about it after you left,” he said. “I wanted you to stay so bad, Shannon, but I couldn’t. I just couldn’t let my parents see you.”
There was something about the memory that haunted him. He had gone from smiling to almost panicked in the space of about ten seconds. “They came home about five minutes after you left,” he said.
I shuddered involuntarily. I thought about how I had walked through the upstairs completely naked, with Andrew’s come splattered on my chest and throat. If they had come home 5 minutes earlier, what would I have done? Oh god, what would they have done to Andrew?
He chuckled to himself little, bringing me back to the present. “I was about to text you, but then I thought that might seem a little…”
“Desperate?” I offered to finish for him. I thought about how I had killed my own text to him for the same reason. He nodded sheepishly. “Trust me, you didn’t have to worry about that at all.”
“Well,” he said, “Either way, all I could do was text you that I would talk to you tomorrow, before my parents gave me the third degree.”
He swallowed, apparently not finding the memory pleasant. Then his eyes refocused upon me, and they seemed to sparkle. “But with you, it was amazing,” he said.
“So, you didn’t think I was selfish for making you come on my chest?” I asked.
He looked at me for a second, and then burst out laughing. “Shannon, do you even hear what you’re saying?”
I shook my head, confused. I didn’t like being laughed at. I was trying to apologize, dammit!
“You have nothing to apologize for!” he insisted. “In fact, I didn’t know how I was going to ask you when we could do that again.”
I didn’t understand. “But I thought you wanted to come inside me, that all boys want to do that,” I tried to work it all out loud. “I mean, you could have done what I did all by yourself.”
He laughed again, and then kissed me really hard. I finally let go of his dick, not even realizing that I still had it in my hand. I put my arms around him so that he could pull me close. His cock pushed against my stomach and I thought it must have felt uncomfortable. Instead, he moaned in appreciation.
I had a lot to learn about how penises worked.
“I promise you,” he whispered, “I promise you, I loved every minute of it. I’d do it again and again.” A sudden cloud crossed his face. “Wait, does this mean that you didn’t like what we did last night?”
Now he was worried!
“Oh my god, Andrew!” I exclaimed. “No! That’s the whole point! I thought I was getting off the way I wanted, and that you may think that I was just a selfish bitch.”
I hated repeating myself, but it seemed that now it was Andrew’s turn to wallow in self-doubt. I reached between us and held his dick again, which was softening rapidly. I petted it, as if it were a cute puppy.
“You are no bitch,” he whispered, his eyes soft with empathy.
We heard the noises of people in the distance. It looked like our privacy was going to come to an end. “I really want you to lick me again,” I said quietly, putting is cock back into his underwear.
“Me too,” he said, and I felt his penis flex a little one last time as it disappeared beneath the waistband. “Soon.”
I felt better now that Andrew had set my confusion straight. Well, that and the fact that I had gotten him off and had found a fantastic new talent in the process.
“In the meantime, I’ll be thinking about tasting you all day.” He drew the last two words out, breathily in my ear. Despite myself, I shuddered in excitement and anticipation. Tracy was right – there’s nothing sexier than thinking of someone who’s thinking about having sex with you.
At the same time, Tracy had been wrong. Or, at least, it seemed like she had been wrong. I wasn’t really sure who to trust, actually, because Tracy had years of experience with god-knows-how-many men. She had actually been a porn star! If anyone would know what men want, it’d have to be her, right? Tracy would probably say that Andrew was humoring me with what I wanted to hear.
I looked at him, trying to search his eyes for any sign of deception, to either me or himself. Could he simply be trying to be nice? Could he be lyi… er, not telling me the truth?
There was nothing on his face or the way he held me, however. It took me a second to realize that this was a different Andrew than the one I had shared a class with, a different person than the one who I met at his house, a completely different boy than the one who wandered the halls for the past month.
Andrew was happy. Looking at his face, it dawned on me that he was coming out of his shell, taking off his shroud of invisibility. This was the Andrew that had been lying underneath, the one that could light up a room with his smile if you’d just let him.
I supposed I had let him. Twice.
I realized that we had something else that we shared in common, too. We hadn’t just lost our virginity last night in a frenzied moment of horniness. I think we’d both come to the realization that we had finally been seen.
“God I want to fuck you.”
I couldn’t believe he said that so brazenly, so openly. It almost came out of the blue, and somewhat interrupted the moment that I was having, the self-realization that I had been experiencing.
He smiled. “Me too,” he said.
Wait, what? I was confused. Why is he saying “me too?” Holy shit. Did I just say that, instead of him? Did the words come out of my mouth?
Good god, is Team Shutupandfuckme running the show now?
More noises. Closer now.
He looked past me for a moment at the door, straining to hear. He pulled away from me for a moment so that he could sort himself out (he dresses right, I noticed), and zipped up his pants.
He stopped, and a pained, worried expression crossed his face. “Shannon,” he said, “I suppose that after having sex there’s no point in hiding it, but…”
He stopped. I felt a lump immediately appear in my throat.
“I really like you,” he finally admitted. “I mean, I was really glad when Mrs. Villanova put the two of us together. I think… I think you’re really pretty.”
I swallowed. He thinks I’m pretty? “And holy shit,” he concluded. “I had no idea you were so good!”
I blushed a little. He took me by the hips, and brought me in close again. I could feel his cock once again, and I sighed in contentment. His hands cupped my ass and I wiggled it a little to encourage him to get a better grip. He obliged.
“You are so damn sexy,” he whispered. “I’ve always been a sucker for a girl in glasses with a pony tail.”
“So basically,” I teased. “You like women with poor eyesight who may or may not have showered that day?”
He laughed, and this time I enjoyed hearing it. Immensely. This was turning into a nice little bonus.
“I better get out of here, or I’m going to get into trouble,” he said.
I nodded. “Kiss me again, first?” I asked.
Again, he obliged. I felt his hands pull my ass into him again, and I felt like I was melting. Each time we kissed it got better, like we were finding each other’s pleasure zones.
A loud noise crashed not too far away, and we both jumped. It sounded like someone had dropped a stack of books, or something. We looked at each other and nodded in silent agreement, and separated.
“You go first,” I said. “I want to check on how I look.”
“You look gorgeous,” he said, grinning.
I smiled back at him. “I mean, I don’t want to look like I just swallowed a gallon of come before school!”
His grinned broadened. “That looked gorgeous, too.”
I hit him on the arm, playfully. “Get out of here!”
He left, after checking to make sure the coast was clear, and I was alone in the girl’s bathroom. I looked at myself in the mirror, and surprisingly didn’t look too bad. You’d never have known that I just blew a guy.
My field of view widened, however, and his comment about glasses and pony tails echoed back to me. I looked plain and ordinary. To me, there was nothing glamorous or sexy. My glasses had black, hard square plastic frames that were about as stylish as we could afford, which wasn’t much. My hair was thin, straight, and the pony tail was the easiest way to keep it out of my face.
My appearance was about as low-maintenance as you could get.
Yet, Andrew liked it. I didn’t understand any of it. People like Tracy, and my mother, and – ugh, Simone – could turn heads just by walking into a room with their good looks and attitude…
Attitude.
You can’t just act the queen, you needed to be the Queen!
“Come on, Heather!” I heard a familiar voice outside the door. It was a command to a minion. It was a voice that sent chills down my spine.
Simone.
Oh shit. Attitude or no, I felt an urge to run and hide. I picked up my bag and headed for the furthest stall, closed the door, and sat on the toilet. I lifted my feet onto the seat so as not to be seen at all.
Seconds later, I heard the door open, and set of footsteps come into the bathroom. “Come on!” Simone’s voice echoed across the bathroom tile.
“Okay, okay, I’m here,” Heather protested.
“It’s like, I just can’t deal with her any more,” Simone complained.
“Wait, who are we talking about?” Heather asked.
“The cunt,” Simone spat. The hatred coming out of her was almost physical. “I swear, I don’t know how I’m not going to tear her eyes out when I see her again.”
“Well, she definitely deserves it,” Heather agreed.
“Damn straight,” Simone said. I heard the water run, and then shut off.
“So, why does she deserve it, again?” Heather sounded confused.
“Because she thinks she’s so great,” Simone said, and it sound like she was gritting her teeth. “She has everything, and thinks she’s so much better than the rest of us. She needs to be brought down a peg. Or ten.”
I started to relax. I had no idea who she was talking about. Maybe I got lucky, and she had found a new target to aim for?
“Well, that ‘vaginal placebo’ thing was absolutely brilliant,” Heather tried to console Simone.
My blood turned to ice. Simone had been talking about me, after all! But none of what she said was true. None of that applied to me! I couldn’t help myself, and tried to look through the crack of the stall. I could just make out Simone in the sliver of a gap that it gave me.
“Yeah,” Simone said, reaching into her purse to find some lipstick. “It would have been perfect too, if it hadn’t been for that dick, Mr. Rawlins.”
“True,” Heather agreed. “I know you really wanted her to open that box in front of everyone.”
Simone let out an evil laugh. “Can you imagine the look on her face?” Simone asked. “All of those teddy bears, and cards, and stuffed animals, and then a huge fucking dick with Daddy’s face plastered all over the box.”
Both of them started laughing. “She’s probably been trying to stuff that into her cunt all week!” Heather joked.
Simone huffed. “Yeah, good luck with that!” she said. There was a twinge in her voice, and I suspected that Heather might not know that Simone had attempted to do that herself.
“You would have gotten into so much trouble for it, though,” Heather said. “Bringing that dildo into class? Soooo busted.”
Simone grunted. “It would have been worth it,” she said, unconcerned. “I would have been sent to the principal’s office, my bitch mother would have been called, she would have reamed me out. Big fucking deal. She does that every day.
“The Cunt, on the other hand,” Simone’s voice turned hard, and I realized that she couldn’t even say my name. Instead, she could only use the epithet. “She would have been like, ‘What? No, that’s not my dad!'”
Simone waved her hands in the air, rolled her eyes, and whined in an obscene imitation of how I would have reacted.
“Oh wait, no,” Simone said, laughing. She put her hands on her chest and pressed against them to flatten them until they seemed to not exist. “‘What? No! That’s not my dad!'” she repeated herself.
Both girls laughed, their evil cackles reverberating off of the tile walls. I felt my eyes water, despite – or maybe because of – my attempts to keep calm and quiet.
Heather followed up. “And then, she’d like, been everyone’s bitch for the rest of the year!”
I swallowed in fear. I hadn’t realized just how big of a bullet I had dodged that day. I really owed Mr. Rawlins, big-time.
Simone’s voice felt like a razor at my throat. “I was all prepared, too,” she said. “I was going to leave little tiny penises in her locker, and give them to people to give to her at random times.”
Heather laughed, hysterically. “Where did you get those?” she asked.
“Oh, some bachelorette novelty thing you can get online,” Simone said, dismissively. “In fact, I might just do that anyway.”
Heather laughed, and there was a pause in the conversation. I couldn’t see them too well, so I didn’t know what they were doing.
“So what did she do this time?” Heather asked.
Simone groaned in frustration. “Augh! She goes around, acting all innocent and everything, but in reality she’s a slut and the world needs to know it,” she said. The hairs on the back of my neck stood straight up.
“She goes around fucking everyone she meets,” Simone said, much to my confusion. “And she needs to understand that she can’t just go fuck someone that she barely knows, whenever she feels like it.”
“Wait, so Shannon got laid this weekend?” Heather sounded incredulous. “Someone was willing to fuck that skinny bitch?”
“I know, right?” Simone sounded equally as incredulous.
The words stung, playing on every insecurity I ever had. But the more important question was, how did Simone know?
Are you sure this wouldn’t improve his status at school? Tracy had said. Did… did Andrew tell someone?
I gasped, and my hand few to my mouth in fear that I had revealed myself. Did he tell… Simone?
“Maybe it was a mercy lay,” Heather said, evidently not hearing me. “Or maybe she roofied them.”
“So much for Little Miss Goodie Two Shoes,” Simone said in a sarcastic snarl. “Come on, let’s get to homeroom.”
I sat there in shock, completely unprepared for this news. Tracy had been right, she had warned me. I felt sick to my stomach, nauseous from the implications of what I’d just heard.
Andrew hadn’t just violated my trust, he had betrayed me to the one person that could and would do the most damage. How could he do that?
Why would he do that?
I felt like a fool. I had come on to him this morning like a nun on parole, taken him into my mouth, filled my stomach with his come, and –
I jumped off the toilet seat, turned, and ejected the contents of my stomach into the bowl. Mentally, I thought of each heave as a rejection of Andrew in both a literal and figurative sense. He deserved to be rejected.
How could he? How could he?
It made no sense.
My stomach had nothing left to give, so I slumped onto the disgusting floor and wrapped my arms around my knees. I knew that it wasn’t going to be any good to try to keep the tears back, so I let them flow.
Once they started, though, it felt like they weren’t going to be able to stop. My entire body shook, my back hurt, and my stomach clenched as if it had done a hundred sit-ups.
It wasn’t fair. I didn’t understand what I had done to deserve any of this.
My mind tried to give me motivation. What would Punk Girl do?
Shut the fuck up! I mentally screamed at myself. I didn’t want to be brave, didn’t want to have ‘attitude.’ I didn’t want to strut around pretending to own the world and fuck anything and everything and not give a damn about it. That’s how I got into this situation in the first place.
The bell rang, signaling the start of the school day. By now everyone would be in their homerooms, and most of the hallways would be clear. I waited a few more minutes, and then picked up my bag and opened up the door and raced to the door that Andrew and I had entered.
Mr. Hernandez was working at his desk and watched me leave the building without saying a word. I must have just looked like some hyper-emotional crazy teenager to him.
I didn’t care. I burst out of the building into the chilled morning air, and could only think of one thing.
Escape.