SENSE: Part TWO (installment #6)
Sense: Part II I write. Most often it goes unread, only a lucky few get to skim. This is a piece I've been working on for some time now--not sure if it will be a short story or much longer. I suppose it could be categorized as adolescent lit. It's a work in progress. Suggestions and constructive criticism are welcome. Working title- Sense Installment # 6 (continued from September 18th )
My mind starts creating detailed scenarios that include shaved pussies and boob jobs. I wonder if he is circumcised and know that I’ll never know, but she will. I get angry and upset, begin to pace, getting ready to leave and walk away, but I don’t. I stay there transfixed like part of the architecture. Stand guard. It’s ten minutes passed now and I feel like a jerk. I think about yelling at her when and if she ever gets out. She knows I like him. I won’t yell at him because he can do no wrong. I play with my cross, my ponytail, my tie, anything that hangs.
The door swings open suddenly and I don’t have a chance to say anything. They are smiling, she is buttoning her shirt, the badge on her pocket seems crooked, but it can’t be, it’s sewn on. He runs his fingers through his thick black hair and looks at her,
“That was fun. We’ll do it again.”
She grins and nods once. A yes.
“Let’s go,” she says grabbing my arm, winking at him. I am confused and ready to tell. My insides are pails of pudding.
“I can’t believe you did that.”
“Whadja think I was a wimp like you. He’s a good kisser too, you should try it someday.”
I look at her tits. They look like they had just been fucked. I want to ask her if she saw his penis, but I don’t. I don’t really want to know.
“He’s a good kisser?” I ask.
“Yeah, real soft lips. Uses too much tongue for me, but you might like it. You like tongue?”
My shoulders shrug, “U-ohno.”
“Well, now you know. My review is four stars. I’d do him if you didn’t like him so damn much.” She pats my backside just before she swipes her backpack off the floor.
Am I supposed to thank her now? I wonder, then look at her shirt. It’s unevenly buttoned. She follows my eyes and looks down.
“Whoops,” she begins unbuttoning as we walk through the halls. She let him fuck her boobs.
My mind starts creating detailed scenarios that include shaved pussies and boob jobs. I wonder if he is circumcised and know that I’ll never know, but she will. I get angry and upset, begin to pace, getting ready to leave and walk away, but I don’t. I stay there transfixed like part of the architecture. Stand guard. It’s ten minutes passed now and I feel like a jerk. I think about yelling at her when and if she ever gets out. She knows I like him. I won’t yell at him because he can do no wrong. I play with my cross, my ponytail, my tie, anything that hangs.
The door swings open suddenly and I don’t have a chance to say anything. They are smiling, she is buttoning her shirt, the badge on her pocket seems crooked, but it can’t be, it’s sewn on. He runs his fingers through his thick black hair and looks at her,
“That was fun. We’ll do it again.”
She grins and nods once. A yes.
“Let’s go,” she says grabbing my arm, winking at him. I am confused and ready to tell. My insides are pails of pudding.
“I can’t believe you did that.”
“Whadja think I was a wimp like you. He’s a good kisser too, you should try it someday.”
I look at her tits. They look like they had just been fucked. I want to ask her if she saw his penis, but I don’t. I don’t really want to know.
“He’s a good kisser?” I ask.
“Yeah, real soft lips. Uses too much tongue for me, but you might like it. You like tongue?”
My shoulders shrug, “U-ohno.”
“Well, now you know. My review is four stars. I’d do him if you didn’t like him so damn much.” She pats my backside just before she swipes her backpack off the floor.
Am I supposed to thank her now? I wonder, then look at her shirt. It’s unevenly buttoned. She follows my eyes and looks down.
“Whoops,” she begins unbuttoning as we walk through the halls. She let him fuck her boobs.
posted by SuperSideris at
5:29 PM
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