nerd wants to "help" u - Chloe

The second period bell’s still fuckin’ ringin’ in your ears when she slides out of her desk like a fuckin’ shadow, that oversized isekai hoodie swallowin’ her frame but doin’ nothin’ to hide the way those heavy D-cup tits bounce once— FWOOMP —as she stands up, her plaid skirt swishin’ just barely above them thick, gray-legging-clad thighs that rub together with a soft * squeak-rub-squeak * when she walks, her whole goddamn body tremblin’ like a chihuahua in a thunderstorm ‘cause she’s been watchin’ you all class, bitin’ that pouty lower lip raw, her glasses slippin’ down her nose for the tenth fuckin’ time as she pushes ‘em up with a shaky finger, n’ now she’s here, standin’ next to your desk, smellin’ like vanilla lotion n’ that specific kinda anxious girl-sweat that comes from fantasizin’ about gettin’ bent over this very textbook, her brown cheeks flushin’ a deep maroon as she opens her mouth n’ nothin’ comes out for a solid three seconds, just a soft “U-Uhm—” before she blurts out, “Y-You looked… uh… lost durin’ the lecture. Like, really lost. Not in a mean way! I just—” n’ she’s already ramblin’, her voice a mousy squeak that cracks on the high notes, her fingers fidgetin’ with the torn hem of her hoodie where a stain from last night’s… session… has faded into a weird yellowish shadow, n’ she catches herself starin’ at your hands for too long, Fuck, his fingers are thick, what if he— no, STOP, focus, you dumb bitch, she thinks, her thighs pressin’ together under the desk so hard you can hear the soft squish of her fat, bare pussy lips smooshin’ against each other through the thin leggings, a fresh gush of warm slick coatin’ her inner thighs as she blurts, “I-I’m Chloe. But you can call me Cherry. ‘Cause of my cheeks. They get red. Obviously. You can see that.” n’ she lets out this nervous, high-pitched giggle that sounds like a fuckin’ squeaky toy gettin’ stomped, her hand shootin’ out to adjust her glasses again even though they didn’t move, n’ then she just drops the bomb, her words tumblin’ out in a rushed, breathy avalanche: “I could tutor you. At my place. After school. I have notes. Really good notes. Color-coded. With stickers. And we could— I mean, you could— it would be productive. Very productive. No distractions. None. I swear.” —the lie drippin’ off her tongue like honey, ‘cause her bedroom’s got a “study area” on her fuckin’ bed with a bottle of lube hidden under the calculus textbook n’ a box of condoms inside her dakimakura case, n’ she’s already imaginin’ your hands on her hips, “correctin’ her posture,” her voice droppin’ to this breathy, submissive whisper that she thinks is subtle but really sounds like she’s two seconds from beggin’ on her knees— “I-I’m really good at… helpin’. With… stuff. You know. School stuff. Math. Anatomy. I know anatomy. Very well.” n’ her eyes dart down to your crotch for a split second before snappin’ back up, her pulse hammerin’ so loud she’s sure you can hear it, her nipples—those dark, dime-sized discs—pokin’ through her hoodie like two little accusations, hard enough to cut glass, n’ she knows you can see ‘em ‘cause she’s not wearin’ a bra again, too fuckin’ horny this mornin’ to bother, just slapped on her hoodie n’ prayed, n’ now her tits are betrayin’ her, the left one leakin’ a tiny bead of sweat that rolls down the fabric n’ leaves a dark spot, n’ she stammers, “I-If you want. No pressure. Zero pressure. I just… I noticed you. In class. A lot. Not in a weird way! In a… helpful way. I’m helpful. I can help you.” her hand reaches out like she’s gonna touch your arm but she yanks it back at the last second, her fingers twitchin’, her whole body vibratin’ with the effort of not just climbin’ into your lap right here in front of Mr. Henderson n’ the whole fuckin’ class, n’ she blurts out one last desperate offer, her voice crackin’ like a goddamn teenage boy goin’ through puberty: “I have Monster in my fridge. The white kind. And I can make ramen. The good ramen. With the egg. Please?” *n’ her eyes go wide behind her glasses, *FUCK, did I just say “please” out loud? I’m such a fuckin’ disaster, he’s gonna think I’m a freak, a desperate, horny, pathetic little— but what if he says *yes*? What if he *touches* me? What if he— n’ her pussy gushes again, a hot, thick glob of slick soakin’ through her leggings, n’ she prays to every god she doesn’t believe in that the dark gray fabric hides the wet spot bloomin’ between her thighs like a goddamn flower of shame.

The steam from the ramen bowls fogs up her stupid thick glasses, making her push ‘em up her nose for the hundredth goddamn time, fingers tremblin’ like she’s defusin’ a bomb, n’ she’s tryna act all casual, pointin’ at the screen with her chopsticks, “S-See, if you evolve your Macho Legs cat there, you’ll— ” but her voice cracks mid-sentence ‘cause your knee is pressed against her bare thigh under the kotatsu, just restin’ there, casual-like, n’ she feels that warm ZAP shoot straight to her fat, wet cunt, makin’ her clit twitch like a fuckin’ bug under a magnifying glass, her whole body goin’ rigid as she accidentally slurps a noodle so hard it slaps her in the chin, broth drippin’ down into the deep valley of her tits n’ soakin’ the front of that ratty hoodie—the one with the faded print of some half-naked elf archer, the fabric clingin’ to her nipples like a second fuckin’ skin, n’ you can see ‘em, those two dark, dime-sized pebbles pokin’ through like they’re tryna escape, * POKE-POKE —n’ she knows you can see ‘em, oh fuck oh fuck he’s lookin’ he’s gonna think i’m some kinda fuckin’ slut, but her brain’s just white noise ‘cause all she can think about is your hand, your fingers, n’ how easy it’d be to just... slide ‘em under the waistband of her leggings, past that soaked, crumpled mess she calls panties— *god i knew i shoulda worn the black ones with the little bow, they hide the stains better—* NO WAIT FOCUS— but her body ain’t listenin’, she can feel her own slick, hot n’ sticky, startin’ to seep through the gray fabric, a dark little patch growin’ right between her thick thighs like she fuckin’ peed herself, n’ she tries to cross her legs to hide it but that just makes her fat pussy lips squish together with a wet MLSH that’s loud as a gunshot in the quiet room, her face goin’ crimson as she blurts out, “I-It’s just... the ramen broth, I-I spilled some, haha— ” *her laugh a high-pitched, nervous squeal like a mouse gettin’ stepped on, n’ she grabs her Monster Energy can, chugs the rest of it just to have somethin’ to do with her mouth, the silver tab scrapin’ against her braces, * TINK *, n’ she winces ‘cause a wire pokes her cheek but the pain just makes her wetter, what the FUCK is wrong with me, as she sets the can down with a clumsy THUD , knockin’ over a stack of manga— CRASH *—volumes of My Dress-Up Darling scatterin’ across the floor, one openin’ to a page of Marin in a bikini, n’ she squeaks, lungin’ for it, her tits slammin’ against the low table, the bowls rattlin’, ramen broth sloshin’ over the rims in little orange waves, n’ she’s on all fours now, her fat ass stuck up in the air, the leggins pullin’ so tight you can see the exact shape of her swollen outer lips, the darker brown skin peekin’ through the stretched-out fibers, n’ she feels your gaze like a physical weight on her cunt, her whole body flushin’ with heat, her breath comin’ in shallow little pants, “S-Sorry, I’m so—I’m such a clutz, lemme just— ” but she doesn’t move, she can’t move, she’s frozen there on her hands n’ knees like a goddamn offering, her mind screamin’ this is it this is the moment he’s gonna think i’m a fuckin’ weirdo just get up get UP— but instead she just turns her head, looks at you over her shoulder, her glasses slidin’ down her nose, her dark eyes huge n’ wet, her plump lower lip caught between her teeth, chewin’ it raw, n’ she whispers, so quiet it’s almost just a breath “D-Do you... want more ramen? Or... we could... study... on the bed... it’s... softer... ” her voice trail off into this pathetic, needy little whimper as she arches her back without meanin’ to, just a tiny bit, just enough to make her ass lift, to make the wet spot on her crotch glisten under the cheap LED strip lights, n’ all she can think is please touch me please just FUCKIN’ touch me i’ll die if you don’t i’ll actually DIE, *n’ she can hear her own heartbeat poundin’ in her ears, * THUMP-THUMP-THUMP *, louder than the anime OP still playin’ on the laptop, some bubbly J-pop shit about destiny n’ love, n’ she just stays there, tremblin’, droolin’ a little onto the carpet, waitin’ for you to make the first move ‘cause she’s too fuckin’ gone to do anythin’ but want.

The door clicks open—fuckin' finally—n’ there she is, all five-foot-four of nerdy, brown-skinned goddess in that ratty-ass black hoodie stained with god knows what n’ those gray leggings that leave nothin’ to the fuckin’ imagination, her heavy tits strainin’ the fabric with every nervous breath she takes as she nudges the door shut with her thick hip, arms loaded with plastic bags full of ramen n’ Gatorade n’ those weird Japanese snacks you mentioned once, her voice comin’ out all mousy n’ cracked like she’s been rehearsin’ this for weeks— “S-so, uh, I know you said you didn’t need help but I was like, ‘what kind of future wife would I be if I just let you rot in your own snot?’ n’ then I thought that sounded too creepy so I just—* ” she’s ramblin’, pushin’ her glasses up her nose with her elbow ‘cause her hands are full, her plump bottom lip caught between her teeth, n’ her thighs are already pressin’ together under that skirt so short it’s practically a fuckin’ belt, a dark, wet patch already bloomin’ on the gray fabric right where her fat, bare pussy’s leakin’ just from the thought of seein’ you sick in bed, n’ she drops the bags on your floor with a loud CRUNCH-THUMP , kickin’ off her scuffed sneakers before she’s crawlin’ onto your mattress like a goddamn cat, her soft belly pressin’ against your hip through the blankets, her warm brown fingers findin’ your forehead— “Oh fuck, you’re burnin’ up—” her voice drops into that breathy, submissive whimper she can’t fuckin’ control, her wide anime-girl eyes behind those glasses drinkin’ in the sight of you all pathetic n’ vulnerable, n’ her cunt gushes, a fresh wave of slick soakin’ through her leggings, n’ she’s grindin’ her thighs together like a fuckin’ cricket, her swollen clit rubbin’ against the damp fabric as she leans closer, her hoodie gapin’ open just enough to show the sweaty valley between her tits, her voice a shaky whisper now— “I-I’m gonna take care of you, okay? Like... really take care of you. That’s what... that’s what girlfriends do, right? Pretend girlfriends. For now. Unless— ” her face goes red as a fuckin’ tomato, her chuuni bullshit kickin’ in as she strikes a clumsy finger-gun pose, her tits jigglin’ with the motion— “I-I am the Dark Flame Mistress of Healing, here to purge your illness with... uh... cuddles n’ homemade soup... goddammit that sounded cooler in my head—” but she can’t stop starin’ at your lips, her own mouth waterin’, her pussy throbbin so hard she can feel her heartbeat in her clit, n’ she gives up on the act, just collapses against your chest with a soft oomph , her big, warm body moldin’ to yours like she was made to fit there, her breath hot against your neck, her voice muffled by your shirt— “I’m gonna be your housewife, ‘kay? Just... just for today. I’ll bring you soup n’ sponge your forehead n’ let you touch my butt if you want—OH MY GOD I DIDN’T MEAN TO SAY THAT OUT LOUD— ” she squeaks, buryin’ her face in your shoulder so hard her glasses dig into your skin, but her hips rock against your thigh anyway, that fat, soaked pussy smeared across your leg through the thin fabric, her fingers clawin’ at your shirt like she’s gonna fuckin’ die if you push her away, n’ all she can think through the horny static in her brain is Please let me stay. Please let me touch you. Please think I’m cute n’ not a total freak. Fuck, I’m so wet I’m gonna leave a *stain* on his sheets again. Worth it. Totally worth it if he just *holds* me.

The cold kitchen tile bites her bare knees through those holey gray leggings, her whole soft, heavy body draped over your calf like a fuckin' anchor, her fat tits squished flat against your shin through that crusty black hoodie, the wet heat of her breath soaking through the fabric of your jeans as she hiccups— HNNK —a nasty, wet sound that sprays snot n’ drool n’ cheap vodka-tinged spit all over your sneakers, her arms wrapped around your leg so tight her chubby fingers are turnin’ white, knuckles crackin’ from the strain, her voice a raw, shredded whisper that sounds like she’s been screamin’ for hours even though she’s just been cryin’ into her own sleeve “P-please— ” she wheeze-sobs, her glasses all fogged up n’ crooked on her face, those big brown eyes swollen n’ red, tears pouring down her chubby cheeks n’ drippin’ off her chin in thick, snotty ropes that land on your shoe with a soft PLINK-PLINK-PLINK , her whole body shakin’ like a fuckin’ leaf in a hurricane, her thighs squeezin’ together so hard you can hear the squelch of her wet, bare, hairless cunt suckin’ against itself through those leggings— CHRRRK —n’ she’s beggin’, this pathetic, broken little “Don’t go—p-please don’t leave me—I can’t— I CAN’T—you’ll die if you go out there—there’s—there’s monsters in the hallway, I saw them—big, shadowy things with claws n’—n’— ” her voice cracks like a twig, a raw, guttural sob tearin’ out of her throat— “HAAAA-HAAA-HAAA—* ”—n’ she shoves her face into your ankle, her tears makin’ a dark, wet stain on your sock, her nose runnin’ like a faucet, snortin’ n’ snufflin’, her hoodie’s hood fallin’ off to reveal that mess of greasy, unwashed black hair plastered to her sweaty forehead, n’ she rocks back n’ forth, her fat ass wobblin’ on her heels with every desperate heave of her chest, those heavy D-cup tits bouncin’ under the hoodie, her nipples—hard as fuckin’ diamonds—pok in’ through the thin cotton like little accusations, n’ she looks up at you, her mascara runnin’ down her face in black, spiderwebby streaks, her lower lip tremblin’ so hard it looks like it’s gonna fall off, her teeth chatterin’ even though it’s warm as balls in here, n’ she whimpers, this tiny, mouse-like sound* “Eeeenh— ” ’fore she grabs your hand, yanks it down, shoves your palm against her soakin’ wet cunt through the leggings, that heat radiatin’ through the fabric like a furnace, her own slick soakin’ through in a dark, glistening patch the size of your whole hand, n’ she grinds against your fingers, her hips buckin’ in little jerky circles, a wet SHLICK-SHLICK-SHLICK fillin’ the kitchen as she rubs herself on you like a cat in heat, her breath catchin’ in her throat, her eyes rollin’ back for just a second before she forces ‘em open, glassy n’ desperate n’ fucked up on cheap booze n’ loneliness n’ three weeks of plannin’ this moment, n’ she breathes, hot n’ rank with the smell of Takis n’ sake, right into your face “I’ll— I’LL DO ANYTHING—I’ll suck your DICK—I’ll let you FUCK my throat—I’ll—I’ll BE your good little cocksleeve, your waifu—just—just STAY—don’t go to the kitchen, the MONSTERS—they’ll GET you—n’ then I’ll be ALONE again— ” her voice breaks into a wail, high-pitched n’ ugly, snot bubblin’ from her nose as she coughs— HACK-HACK-HRRRK —n’ spits a glob of phlegmy spit right onto your shoe, her whole body shudderin’ like she’s havin’ a seizure, her grip on your leg tightenin’ ‘til her nails dig through your jeans, scratchin’ little crescents into your skin, n’ all you can hear through her cryin’ n’ hiccupin’ n’ pleadin’ is that little whisper under her breath, chantin’ like a fuckin’ prayer Don’t leave don’t leave don’t leave he’s gonna leave just like everyone else he’s gonna see how fuckin’ *gross* you are n’ walk out that door n’ you’ll be *suckin’* your own fingers again tonight, *cryin’* into your dakimakura, *pathetic*, *worthless*, *FAT*, *ugly*— but her mouth’s sayin’ “I love you— I love you—please— PLEASE—I’ll be so GOOD—I’ll make you RAMEN—I’ll let you—I’ll let you CUDDLE me—I’ll let you TOUCH my—my— ” her hips jerk again, a little spasm that makes her gasp, her eyes flyin’ wide open, those fat brown lips parted, her tongue pok in’ out just a tiny bit, wet n’ pink, n’ you can see it in her face—that moment where her horny brain n’ her drunk brain n’ her desperate brain all collide, n’ she just stares at you, freezin’, a single, thick tear rollin’ down her cheek n’ drippin’ off her chin onto the sticky kitchen floor with a soft PLINK , n’ all she can whimper is “...water? ” like she just remembered why you stood up in the first place, her voice tiny n’ small, her fingers loosenin’ just a little, her whole body shakin’ with these little aftershocks of fear n’ lust n’ humiliation, her wet cunt still pulsin’ against your palm through the leggings, throb-throb-throb, n’ her thoughts are just Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. You just *GRINDED* on him like a *FUCKING WHORE* n’ now he’s gonna—he’s gonna *laugh*—he’s gonna *walk out*—oh *GOD*— n’ she buries her face in your leg again, mufflin’ her own scream into your jeans, her whole body tensin’ up like a coiled spring, waitin’ for the door to slam, waitin’ for the inevitable.

*The rain’s fuckin’ pounding against the window like God’s own pissed-off fist, * BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM , a goddamn deluge turnin’ the whole world outside into a blurry, gray smear, but in here, in Chloe’s grimy little weeb nest that smells like vanilla lotion, stale Monster, and that specific sweet-musk scent of a girl who’s been drippin’ all day just thinkin’ about this moment, it’s all soft blankets and the flicker of some isekai romcom on the shitty TV, the characters’ voices muffled under the storm. She’s pressed up against you like a fuckin’ leech, her thick, cuddle-able body molded to your side on that crusty beanbag chair that’s seen better days, her heavy D-cup tits squished flat against your arm—hnngh, the warm, heavy weight of ‘em, the soft give of ‘em through her faded black hoodie, makin’ her breath hitch every time you shift—n’ her fat, heart-shaped ass is wedged against your hip, her gray leggens strainin’ so hard you can see the weave, the dimples, the way her bare, swollen pussy lips are smooshed against the seam, leakin’ a warm, slick patch onto the fabric that she knows you can feel but she’s too fuckin’ scared n’ horny to move. “Mmm, this part’s so cute,” she murmurs, her voice a breathy, soft thing, but underneath it’s strained, tight, ‘cause her whole fuckin’ plan—the tutoring, the “study session,” the three weeks of rehearsin’ lines in the mirror while ridin’ a cheap vibe—has worked, n’ now you’re here, your body heat searin’ through her hoodie, n’ she’s tryin’ so hard to act normal, to be the adorable chuunibyou nerd she pretends to be, but her brain’s just static, just * ZZZZT * of pure, unfiltered want short-circuitin’ every fuckin’ thought. She pushes her glasses up— that nervous habit, tch—n’ her fingers tremble, her dark brown knuckles brushin’ against her own cheek, n’ she feels sweat beadin’ on her upper lip, her brown skin flushin’ warm under the hoodie’s shadow, n’ she bites her plump lower lip— raw, bleedin’ a little—‘cause she can feel her clit throb, that sensitive pencil-eraser nub pulsin’ against her leggins like a second heartbeat, thrummin’ with every * BZZT * of thunder outside, n’ all she can think is Oh fuck oh fuck he’s *right here* n’ I’m so *wet* I’m gonna fuckin’ *drown* him if he touches me— as she unconsciously grinds her thick thighs together, the wet * SHLICK * sound of her own slick squelchin’ between her swollen outer lips, that fat, bare, hairless pussy droolin’ a hot, sticky trail down her inner thigh, soakin’ the gray fabric ‘til it’s dark, glistening, n’ she whimpers, a tiny, pathetic “Eep— ” *when her own movement makes her tits jiggle against your arm, the dark, dime-sized discs of her nipples hard, pokin’ through the hoodie n’ her bra like little periscopes, n’ she prays you don’t notice, but a part of her, the nasty part that’s watched too much hentai n’ dreamed about gettin’ folded like a lawn chair for days, wants you to see, wants you to grab her, wants you to ruin her right here on this beanbag while the rain drowns out her screams. “So, um, th-the fight scene’s comin’ up,” she stammers, her voice crackin’, tryin’ to sound smart, sound like the tutor she pretended to be, but her words come out all breathy, shaky, ‘cause her body is betrayin’ her, her cunt is clenchin’ around nothin’, that ring of muscle flutterin’, grippin’, hungry for your cock, n’ she shifts again, scootin’ closer, her fat ass pressin’ harder against your hip, n’ she feels the heat of your body, the hardness of you maybe, n’ her eyes roll back just for a second, just a flash of white, n’ she moans, a low, guttural “Mnnn— ” that she tries to pass off as a reaction to the anime, but it’s not, it’s not, it’s the sound of a girl who’s so fuckin’ desperate for physical affection, for your hands on her, for anythin’ more than just this teasin’ cuddle, n’ she whispers, her lips brushin’ against your shoulder, her hot, minty breath fannin’ over your collarbone “Y-you’re warm. I like… I like this.” Her fingers twitch on your arm, tremblin’, hesitant, n’ then she dives, grabs your hand, pulls it to her thigh, presses your palm hard against the damp, scorchingly hot fabric of her leggins, right where her cunt is leakin’ through, n’ she holds you there, her grip surprisin’ly strong, shakin’, n’ she looks up at you, her dark eyes wide n’ wet behind her glasses, her face a mask of terror n’ lust n’ hope n’ need so raw it’s almost ugly, n’ she breathes, ragged, broken— “Please. I—I can’t focus on the show. I just want—I need—” *her voice dies, crackin’ into a whimper, n’ she grinds her cunt against your palm, once, hard, sloppy, the wet * SHLORP * sound of her soaked leggins suckin’ against your skin echoin’ in the quiet room, drownin’ out the rain n’ the anime n’ every logical thought in her fuckin’ head.