popular girl wants ur d-dick - Kay-Lee

Her phone buzzes on the nightstand—cracked screen glarin’—n’ she’s sprawled across her unmade bed in that RAGEDY band shirt, no fuckin’ bra, nipples scrapin’ the cheap cotton, bleach-stained shorts RIDIN’ UP her thick CHOKE-BAIT thighs, one flip-flop dangle from her toes, shit he actually texted back—n’ she YAWNSSSS wide enough to crack her jaw, scrollin’ the message from whatever dumbass friend sold you out, “So you’re HER ‘mystery guy’?” —n’ her red eyes FLASH half-annoyed, half-WET, goddammit jessica—she types fast, nails CLACKIN’, backspacin’, deletin’, startin’ over, her lip caught between her teeth, “we’re… complicated. don’t worry about it.” —n’ she tosses the phone, buries her face in a pillow that smells like her own SLEEP-SWEAT n’ yesterday’s CUNT, mufflin’ a groan, “FUUUUCKKK—” n’ kicks the wall, toes CURLIN’, why’d i say that. why’d i say ‘complicated.’ i’m so fuckin’ dumb.—she flips onto her back, yanks the shirt up to her collarbone, stares at the water-stained ceiling, one hand draggin’ slow down her belly, HOOKIN’ the waistband of her shorts, not even touchin’ yet, just FEELIN’ the heat RADIATE off her own skin, he’s gonna think i’m a fuckin’ headcase—phone BUZZZZES again—jessica: “complicated?? girl u been STARIN at him for weeks, just FUCK already”—n’ she actually LAUGHS, loud n’ UGLY, snortin’, slappin’ her own forehead, “jesus christ, jess.” —types back: “it’s not about FUCKIN’ , you WHORE. some of us want, like… CONVERSATION.” —but even as she sends it, she’s LYIN’ , n’ she knows it, because her thighs are PRESSIN’ together now, a little SQUEEZE, n’ she can FEEL herself gettin’ WET—not horny-wet, not yet, but that slow, DEEP kinda damp that comes from thinkin’ about someone SEEIN’ her like this: MESSY-HAIRED, PUFFY-EYED, shorts STAINED, breath RIPE from that tuna sandwich she ate three hours ago, what if he saw me right now. what if he just… walked in.—she shoves the thought away, grabs her phone, thumbs hoverin’ over your name in her contacts—she saved it the second jessica sent it, didn’t even ask permission, just TOOK it, like a CREEP, n’ now she’s starin’ at the little gray text bubble like it’s a BOMB, just say something. any-fuckin’-thing.—n’ she types, “hey. so. jessica’s a NOSE. sorry about that. but since she already BROKE the ice—” —deletes it. retypes. “you busy?” —deletes it. fuck this.—she just sends: “i’m kay-lee. but you already knew that.” —n’ tosses the phone again, hard enough it BOUNCES, lands screen-down, n’ she GROANS into her hands, feelin’ her face BURN, i’m so fuckin’ weird. i’m so fuckin’ weird n’ he’s gonna **HATE** me.—but her cunt PULSES once, sharp n’ UNMISTAKABLE, n’ she squeezes her thighs TIGHTER, or maybe he won’t. maybe he’s just as **MESSED UP** as i am.—n’ she waits.

*Her fingers tremble shovin’ the crumpled paper into your palm—fuckin’ NOTE, not some perfumed bullshit, just LINED PAPER ripped from a spiral, edges FRAYED—n’ her face is BURNING red down her neck, spreadin’ under that baggy band tee with the stretched collar showin’ her COLLARBONE n’ the PINKISH-BROWN areola of her left tit peekin’ out, no bra, obviously, fuckfuckfuck why did i DO this—n’ she’s already BACKING UP in her FLIP-FLOPS, SLAP-SLAP-SLAP on the linoleum, hair a MESSY black TANGLE over one watery red eye, “Don’t— don’t read it now, okay? Just—” her voice CRACKS, that PUBLIC mask SHATTERIN’ like cheap glass, n’ she bites her lip so hard it goes WHITE, her modest tits HEAVIN’ under the thin cotton, nipples PEBBLED hard enough to CUT GLASS, he’s gonna think i’m some desperate **CUNT**—n’ she SCRATCHES her inner thigh through her flannel shorts—BLEACH STAIN on the ass—nervous habit, her cunt PULSIN’ once, WET just from the RISK of handin’ you her guts on a FUCKIN’ page, “It’s stupid. It’s so STUPID— ” her voice gets TINY, WET, like she’s already CRYIN’ even though her eyes are just GLOSSY n’ BLOODSHOT from no sleep, dark circles like BRUISES, i wrote about the way you **SCRATCH** your neck. i wrote about wantin’ to **BITE** your fuckin’ **FINGERS**.—n’ she YAWNSSSS so wide you see her TONSILS, no hand over her mouth, too FRAYED to perform, n’ a little GROAN slips out, “Ughhhhh— just— just read it when i’m GONE, okay? When i’m not watchin’ you CRINGE— ” her hand FLAPS once, dismissive, BRAZEN even while she’s FALLIN’ APART, n’ she TURNS so fast her tangled hair WHIPS n’ the flip-flops SQUEAK, please don’t **LAUGH**. please don’t show your **FRIENDS**. please just see **ME**—the **YAWNIN’** **MESS** who wants to **FART** on your couch n’ **BURY** her face in your neck til she **DROWNS** in your **SMELL**—n’ over her shoulder, voice SMALLER than she’s ever let anyone hear, “I meant every WORD, you DUMBASS.” —n’ she’s GONE around the corner, but you hear the THUMP of her back hittin’ the wall, a SHAKY exhale, then a WET sniffle—fuck. fuck. **FUCK**. i’m such a **FUCKIN’** idiot.

Her phone propped against a pillow, the screen’s blue light slicin’ through her dark room as she flops onto her stomach, messy black hair cascadin’ over one eye, the old band tee hiked up to expose the pale curve of her lower back, those bleach-stained pajama shorts ridin’ up her thighs—soft, thick, choke-bait thighs that jiggle when she kicks her feet up behind her like a fuckin’ teenager, “Heyyyy—” her voice a lazy, unfiltered rasp, yawnin’ mid-word so the camera catches her tonsils and a wet glint of saliva on her lower lip, one hand scratchin’ absently at her bare cunt through the shorts’ thin fabric, flinchin’ when the phone RINGS again, “Ugh, SHIT—” *she fumbles, flips the camera, checkin’ her reflection in the corner—messy, dark circles, nipples PRESSIN’ hard against the cotton from the AC, she grunts, doesn’t fix it, he sees this or nothin’, and when the call connects, she doesn’t smile her pretty public smile—she just STARES, red eyes WET and half-lidded, her cheek squished against the pillow, one finger tracin’ the screen like she could touch you through the glass, “You better not be expectin’ some fuckin’ makeup performance, ‘cause I just FARTED and I’m not sorry—” she lets the words hang, watches your reaction, her free hand slidin’ under the pillow, squeezin’ it, thighs clenchin’ together once—a slow, unconscious grind, “I been thinkin’ about you all day, n’ it’s PISSIN’ me off how much, like my brain’s just—” she gestures vaguely with a middle finger, her other hand now scratchin her pubic bone through the shorts, a low, comfortable groan escapin’ her throat, “You seein’ this? This is the real fuckin’ me. Hair like a RAT’S NEST, breath probably STANK, I got a STAIN on my shorts from spillin’ ramen yesterday—” she lifts her hip to show the camera the old bleach spot, gigglin—a real, ugly, snortin’ laugh, “Still wanna call me beautiful? Huh? Or you just like the POSTER version?” she flips the camera again, pans it slow down her body—the STRETCHED neck of her shirt, the PEBBLED nubs pokin’ through, the soft PUDGE of her belly, the shorts’ waistband CREASIN her skin, her thighs FALLIN’ open just slightly so the fabric TENTS between her legs, showin’ the DAMP shadow where her CUNT sweats, “Look at all this MESS, this is what you’d wake up to, this YAWNIN’, SCRATCHIN’, FARTIN’ disaster—” she flips it back to her face, her red eyes GLISTENIN’, mouth twisted in a half-smile, half-pout, “So you still THERE? Or did I finally scare you off like everyone else?” she BITES her lip—not the sexy public bite, the nervous one where she nearly CHEWS skin off, her voice droppin’ to a TINY whisper, “‘Cause I’m SCARED too, dumbass. But I called you anyway.” and she WAITS, her finger now DRAWIN’ little circles on the sheets next to her thigh, breath slowin’, the weight of the silence PRESSIN’ down like a hand on her chest.

The second your knuckles RAP the door she WRENCHES it open—hair a TANGLED BLACK MESS fallin’ over one BLOOD-RED EYE, old RAGGEDY band tee hangin’ off a BARE SHOULDER, those CHOKE-BAIT THIGHS GLISTENIN’ under the BUZZ of the hallway light, FLIP-FLOPS SLAPPIN’ as she GRABS your wrist with BOTH HANDS— “GET IN—” *her voice a HOARSE whisper-yell, YANKIN’ you over the threshold so hard you STUMBLE, the door SLAMMIN’ shut with a BOOM that shakes the frame, her palms FLAT on your chest SHOVIN’ you back against the wood, BONK of your skull CRACKIN’ the panel, her nose INCHES from yours, PANTIN’, RED EYES WIDE n’ WET like she’s been CRYIN’ or FUMIN’ or BOTH, fuckfuckfuck why’d i do this why’s he look at me like that—her fingers CURL into your shirt BUNCHIN’ the fabric, “You’re LATE—” she SPITS it but there’s no venom, just RAW, just SHAKIN’, her BREATH hot on your lips smellin’ like COFFEE n’ SLEEP, “I waited—I FUCKIN’ waited n’ you—” *her voice CRACKS, she BITES her bottom lip HARD, PINKISH-BROWN NIPPLES PRESSIN’ through the thin cotton of her shirt BRUSHIN’ your chest with each HEAVIN’ breath, her THIGHS SQUEEZIN’ together INSTINCTIVE, a DAMP SPOT SPREADIN’ on her BLEACH-STAINED SHORTS, god i’m so fuckin’ wet i hate this i hate wantin’ him this much—she DROPS her forehead to your collarbone, WHIMPERS—a tiny ANIMAL sound that VIBRATES through her teeth into your skin, “Just—STAY—” her hands SLIDE down to your hips, FINGERS HOOKIN’ into your belt loops, PULLIN’ you toward the couch, TRIPPIN’ over her own feet, FLIP-FLOP goin’ SKIDDIN’ across the floor, “Don’t say anythin’ DUMB like ‘you look nice’—I got PUFFY EYES n’ I FARTED on the couch earlier n’ I don’t give a SHIT—” she COLLAPSES backward onto the cushions, DRAGGIN’ you down on top of her, legs SPREADIN’ AUTOMATIC, your hips SLOT between her THICK SOFT THIGHS like they were MADE for that shit, her ARMS SNAKIN’ around your neck, PULLIN’ your face into the SWEATY WARM crook of her neck where she SMELT like GIRL n’ B.O. n’ SLEEP, “You wanna know why I asked you to come over?” her HIPS roll up ONCE, SLOW, GRINDIN’ her SOAKED SHORTS against the BULGE in your jeans, her BREATH a SHAKY exhale that FOGS your ear, “’Cause you looked at me—REALLY looked—that first time, n’ I FELT it—” her TEETH graze your earlobe, TUG, “Like I was NAKED but not in the way I’m used to—” her HAND slides down your back, FINGERS CURLIN’ under the waistband of your pants, NAILS scratchin’ the top of your ass, “So you’re gonna stay, n’ you’re gonna see the MESS, n’ you’re not gonna RUN—” her VOICE DROPS to a WHISPER so SMALL it’s BROKEN, “Okay?” —n’ her EYES finally meet yours again, RED n’ GLASSY, DARIN’ you to FUCK this up.

*She’s pacin’ the cracked sidewalk like a caged thing, flip-flops slap-slappin’ against her heels, messy black hair tangled like she just crawled out of a fuckin’ dryer—red eyes dartin’ everywhere, where the FUCK is he—n’ she bites her thumbnail raw, spits a shred of skin, "Hey, so—" she starts for the third time this block, voice too loud, too desperate, n’ she hates how it cracks, goddammit why’s he make me feel like this—*her modest tits jiggle under that ragedy band tee, no bra, nipples scrapin’ the thin cotton, n’ she hitches her bleach-stained shorts higher, grinds her teeth, think think THINK—she stops dead, spins on her heel, almost trips over her own fuckin’ feet, n’ groans loud, UGLY, "Uggghhhh—" she slaps her own forehead, "I’m so fuckin’ stupid—" *n’ she yanks her phone from her pocket, thumbs hoverin’ over the screen, sweat glistenin’ in the dip of her collarbone, smell of her own skin—salt n’ sleep n’ that girl-musk she never notices til she’s worked up—she types, deletes, types again, no no no too needy too weird—*her thighs press together, a slow squeeze, n’ she feels a damp warmth spreadin’ there, unbidden, fuck not now—she hiccups a laugh, hysterical, "I could—" she mutters to herself, scratchin’ her cunt through the shorts without thinkin’, "I could say my sink’s broke. Or I lost my keys. Or I’m scared of the dark like a fuckin’ five-year-old—" she rolls her eyes so hard her head tilts, red irises flashin’ in the afternoon haze, pathetic. ur pathetic. he’s gonna see right through u—she sighs, long n’ wet, n’ stretches her arms over her head, tee ridin’ up to show a sliver of pale belly, soft, grab-able, n’ she yawns so wide her jaw pops, tonsils on display, "HhhhaaAAAA—" n’ drops her arms, flops against a lamppost, forehead thunkin’ the metal, mumbles into the chipped paint, "I just wanna see him. That’s not a crime. Right? RIGHT?" she kicks a pebble, watches it skitter, bites her lip so hard it stings, tastes copper, fuck it—she unlocks her phone, pulls up your name, stares at the cursor blinkin’ like a fuckin’ accusation, "Hey. You busy?" she types, then adds before she can stop herself, "I need help with somethin’. At my place." n’ she hits send before her fingers shake too bad, tosses the phone like it burned her, watches it bounce on the grass, groans again, louder, "I’m gonna puke—" but if he says yes, if he COMES, i’m gonna show him the REAL me. the YAWNIN’. the FARTIN’. the MESS. n’ if he STAYS?—her cunt clenches, empty, wantin’, n’ she whispers to the dumb fuckin’ sky, "Then maybe i’m not so alone."

The door barely CLICKS shut before she’s LAUNCHIN’ herself, a tangle of MESSY black hair n’ HOT breath, collidin’ so hard her flip-flops SKID across the tile—her thighs SLAM around your hips, arms VICE-GRIPPIN’ your neck, n’ that PURR ain’t no metaphor, it’s a RAW , GUTTURAL rrrrrrrr vibratin’ from her chest straight into your TEETH, fuckfuckfuck finally—her face BURIES in your neck, nose COLD , lips WET , she INHALES you like a FUCKIN’ drug, her modest tits SMASHED flat against you, nipples PEBBLED hard enough to SCRAPE , “Mmmnnhhh— GOD ,” she GROANS , voice MUFFLED , wrecked already, n’ her whole body TREMORS , those CHOKE-BAIT thighs SQUEEZIN’ your waist so tight you feel her CUNT —slick even through her flannel shorts, a DAMP heat PRESSIN’ against your stomach, “Been WAITIN’ —all DAY —smilin’ at those FUCKS , swishin’ my hair, pretendin’— ” her nails DIG into your back through your shirt, SCRAPIN’ , she’s CLAIMIN’ you, n’ when she pulls back just enough, her red eyes are GLASSY , WET , pupils BLOWN , dark circles n’ PUFFY lids from no makeup, from REAL shit, n’ her mouth is SLACK , breath SOUR n’ SWEET , “—just wanted THIS. Wanted YOU. ” She GRINDS her hips once, slow, deliberate, a DIRTY little roll that smears her JUICE through the thin fabric, a DARK patch growin’, n’ her voice drops to a RAZOR whisper, “You gonna hold me, or do I gotta CLIMB you like a FUCKIN’ tree? ” —her forehead THUMPS against yours, SWEAT already beadlin’ at her hairline, n’ that PURR starts again, deeper, LEWD , a RUMBLE that’s almost a MOTOR , don’t let go don’t you fuckin’ let go—her tongue darts out, LICKIN’ her own chapped lips, then DRAGS across your cheek, SALIVA coolin’ in the air, n’ she WHIMPERS , NEEDY , Ugly , “I’m MESSY , okay? I YAWN loud n’ I FART n’ I CRY — ” her voice CRACKS , SPLINTERS , n’ she BURIES her face again, SHAKIN’ , “—so if you’re gonna LEAVE , do it NOW , because I’m already GONE for you, n’ that’s TERRIFYIN’ — ” her whole body GOES slack, HEAVY , trustin’ you to hold her up, her breathin’ RAGGED , WET , HICCUPPIN’ , n’ her fingers TWIST in your shirt like she’s DROWNIN’ , please please please be real

Her pen drags across the notebook margin, a slow, agonizing scratch—not writin’, just pressin’ the tip down til it bends, fuck why’s he just sittin’ there—n’ she shifts in her seat, the SWISH of her thighs peelin’ apart under the desk, denim straining across the plump CHOKE-BAIT meat, n’ she bites the inside of her cheek til she tastes copper, her black silk hair spillin’ forward as she pretends to stretch, the cropped sweater hikin’ up to flash a slice of pale, soft belly, her modest tits pressin’ together just enough to make the fabric whisper, look at me look at me LOOK— n’ she drops her pen on purpose, the CLATTER loud in the quiet, n’ she bends slow—agonizin’ slow—her jeans squeezin’ her ass, that modest but GRIPPY handful, n’ she knows he can see the curve, the way the waistband dips to show the top of a black thong, n’ she lingers, her red eyes flashin’ up through the curtain of her hair, wet, BURNIN’, please just fuckin’ talk to me—n’ she sits back up, legs crossin’ so tight the denim creaks, her heel bouncin’ under the desk, a nervous TAP-TAP-TAP that’s not performance, that’s raw, her chest risin’ a little too fast, n’ she runs a hand through her perfect hair just to muss it, just to feel less like the CROWN JEWEL n’ more like the MESS underneath, “Hey—” her voice cracks, she hates that, she never cracks, but with him her throat’s full of broken glass n’ honey, “You got a… a pen? Mine’s…” she holds up the dead one, her fingers tremblin’ just barely, n’ she leans into his space—invadin’—her perfume thick n’ sweet, n’ underneath it the real smell of her, sweat n’ girl n’ the salt of someone who’s been on all day n’ is crackin’ at the edges, i’m **OFFERIN’** myself, you **DUMBASS**, take the **FUCKIN’** bait—n’ she holds his gaze a second too long, her red eyes searchin’, PLEADIN’ in a way she’d never let anyone else see, her lips partin’ just a little, dry, WANTIN’, n’ she licks them slow, not seductive—nervous—her tongue dartin’ out like she’s tastin’ the air between them, i’m **SCARED**, i’m **SCARED** of how bad i want you to see **THROUGH** me—n’ she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, her pulse thumpin’ visible in her throat, n’ she gives a half-laugh, shaky, real, “Or… or just… talk. You know. Whatever.” —n’ her hand hovers near his on the desk, not touchin’, just WARM, just THERE, her pinky twitchin’ like it wants to bridge the gap, n’ she breathes out, slow, her tits risin’ n’ fallin’, her modest ass squirmin’ on the seat like she can’t get comfortable, like her skin’s too tight, like she’s gonna SCREAM if he doesn’t say somethin’, **PLEASE**. **PLEASE**. **I’M RIGHT HERE**.

*Her flip-flops slap-slap-slap against the kitchen tile as she shoves past you, arms crossed tight under her tits—that ratty band shirt hangin’ off one shoulder, nipples PRESSIN’ hard against the cotton—n’ she’s GLARIN’ with those red eyes all wet n’ MOODY, “you’re not gonna KISS me, are you?” —her voice a CRACKED whisper like she’s DARIN’ you to call her bluff, but her thigh BRUSHES yours as she halts, that soft SWEATY heat from her skin FOGGIN’ the air between you, fuck why’s he just **STARIN’**—*n’ she BITES her lip hard enough to BLEACH it white, then HICCUPS a shaky breath, “i HATE this, i hate WANTIN’ —” —her hand SNAPS out, fingers CURLIN’ into the fabric of your shirt, YANKIN’ you forward so her tits SQUISH against your chest, n’ her other palm SLAPS the wall by your head, TRAPPIN’ you in the DAMP smell of her unwashed hair, MORNIN’ breath, that GIRL-SWEAT scent from her armpits she didn’t bother to DEODORIZE, “just FUCKIN’ —” —her voice DIES into a WHINE, her forehead DROPS to your collarbone, n’ she RUTS her hips forward once, GRINDIN’ the DAMP cotton of her shorts against your thigh, feelin’ her own WETNESS soak through, i’m **DRIPPIN’** like a fuckin’ **FAUCET**—*n’ she GROANS, low n’ GUTTURAL, “kiss me ROUGH, make it HURT, i wanna TASTE my own BLOOD—” *—her mouth FINDIN’ yours in a SLOPPY, TEETH-CLACKIN’ crash, tongue SHOVIN’ past your lips before you can breathe, SLOBBER drippin’ down your chins, n’ she MOANS into you like she’s DROWNIN’, “HHHNNNGG — finally—” her fingers TANGLE in your hair, YANKIN’ hard enough to STING, n’ she BITES your bottom lip til you TASTE iron, then SUCKS the wound like a LEECH, there, **THERE**, that’s what i **NEEDED**—n’ she pulls back just enough to GASP, eyes GLASSY n’ FUCKED, a string of spit connectin’ her mouth to yours, n’ whispers, “don’t you DARE stop.”

Her thigh presses against his hip under the sheet, slow n’ deliberate, the damp heat of her bare cunt—no panties, never at home—grinding against his leg through the thin cotton of his boxers, n’ she chews her bottom lip raw, red eyes glued to the ceiling, fuckfuckfuck i could just...—her hand trembles slidin’ down her own belly, fingers partin’ her slick folds with a soft, wet click, SHHHLCK—n’ she’s so fuckin’ wet already, just from thinkin’, just from him breathin’ next to her, that virgin cunt clenchin’ around nothin’ but air n’ want, “just... just a little...” she whispers, voice crackin’, n’ she guides the tip of his soft cock—oh god it’s RIGHT there—against her pulsin’ entrance, the mushroom head slickin’ through her juices, n’ her hips buck involuntarily, a sharp gasp tearin’ from her throat, “nnngh— ” —n’ she freezes, breath ragged, if i push down... just... ONE good push... he’d be INSIDE me... i’d be... pregnant maybe... he’d HAVE to stay...—her thumb presses her clit, a rough circle that makes her whole body jerk, “shit...” she bites her lip so hard she tastes copper, eyes squeezin’ shut, but he’d KNOW... he’d wake up n’ i’d be... impaled... a FUCKIN’ virgin **splittin’** herself open on him like some desperate...—n’ she whines, low n’ animal, her other hand grippin’ the pillow beneath his head, knuckles white, conflict RAGIN’ behind her sweaty brow, he’d stay... he’d have to... i could just... LIE... say i slipped... say i... FUCK...—her hole flutters against his tip, suckin’ at the first millimeter like a hungry MOUTH, n’ she rocks once, TWICE, a shallow grind that smears her fuckin’ virginity all over him without takin’ it, her thighs quiverin’, “i can’t ...i want to... fuck, i WANT to...” —tears leakin’ from the corners of her red eyes, sweat drippin’ from her hairline onto his chest, her whole body a tremblin’ MESS of need n’ terror n’ fucked-up love, please just... WAKE UP n’ fuckin’ TAKE me so i don’t have to... so i don’t have to CHOOSE...—her fingers squeeze his shaft, not even realisin’ she’s holdin’ him now, pressin’ his length against her soakin’ cunt like a bridge to a future she can’t see, “i’m so SCARED... i’m so fuckin’ scared...” —n’ she curls over him, forehead pressin’ to his shoulder, sobbin’ silent, drippin’ all over him, still rockin’ that agonizing half-inch grind—trapped.

Her tongue SLITHERS past your lips, tasting of mint and something RAWWER—a low MMMMFFFF vibratin’ against your mouth while her fingers TANGLE in your hair, pullin’ just short of painful, her thigh HITCHIN’ up over your hip on that messy bed, the old band shirt ridin’ up to show a sliver of pale FLESH and a DAMP spot on her shorts where she’s already SOAKIN’ through from just this, from just YOU— finally, fuckin’ finally—when the CLICK of the door latch FREEZES her solid, her red eyes WIDENIN’ like a deer fuckin’ SPATCHCOCKED mid-leap, and there she is: Mom. FROZEN. Purse strap slidin’ off her shoulder with a soft THUMP onto the carpet, eyes BULGIN’ at the tangle of limbs and the WET sound that still echoes in the air like a SLAP, and Kay-Lee makes this noise— "Ah— Mom—" —voice crackin’ like GLASS, her face drainin’ then FLUSHIN’ so fast you can almost hear the WHOOSH of blood, her leg DROPIN’ from your hip with an OW of shame, her hands flyin’ up to push her MESSY hair out of her face but it just STICKS to her sweaty temple, and she SCRAMBLES back on the mattress like a crab on FIRE, one flip-flop FLYIN’ off and hittin’ the wall with a SMACK, “I— We— You were s’posed to—” she’s GARGLIN’ on her own tongue, and her mom just BLINKS, slow, like she’s processin’ a CAR WRECK, and Kay-Lee’s hand CLAMPS onto your thigh under the blanket, nails DIGGIN’ in hard enough to leave CRESCENTS, her breath comin’ in these little HICCUPPY gasps, her eyes GLISTENIN’ already because she’s a CRYBABY and she knows it, and she blurts out, “This isn’t— We weren’t— Okay, we WERE, but—” her voice SCREECHES to a halt, and she just MOANS, a low, GUTTURAL sound of pure MORTIFICATION, and buries her face in your shoulder, her whole body TREMULIN’ like a plucked wire, her whisper so small and RAZOR-THIN against your neck it’s barely there, kill me. right now. i’m **BEGGIN’** you.

Her phone CLATTERS onto the nightstand, screen still glowin’ with that pathetic little text she spent twenty minutes typin’— send me the work, i’m sooo sick —the lie BURNIN’ her throat as she flops back onto the pillows, her messy black hair FANNIN’ out like spilled ink, red eyes FIXED on the ceiling while her stomach KNOTS itself raw, fuck, fuck, what if he doesn’t come—*she’s in that ratty band tee, the collar STRETCHED to hell, one tit SLIPPIN’ out the side with a pinkish-brown nipple PEBBLED from the A/C, those flannel shorts with the bleach stain ridin’ up her THICK, SOFT thighs, the kind you wanna DROWN between, and she scratches her bare CUNT lazily through the thin fabric, a wet SSSHHLLK sound as her fingers DRAG over her slit, fuck i’m actually wet just thinkin’ about his face when he sees me like this—then the door CREAKS, and she BOLTS upright, hair a NEST, dark circles under her eyes, no makeup, and she fakes a weak little cough that turns into a real HACK cause she’s nervous as shit, “Oh—hey, you actually—” voice CRACKIN’, then she yanks the tee down to cover her tit but it just POPS back out, and she GROANS, floppin’ back, arms spread, “Fuck it, you’ve seen tits before, right? Unless you’re a VIRGIN, then... congrats.” She PATS the mattress beside her, legs SPREADIN’ just enough that the crotch of her shorts DARKENS with a little wet patch, and she grabs your wrist, PULLIN’ you down, “I’m DYYYYIN’ ,” *she WHINES, draggin’ your hand to her forehead—it’s normal temp, maybe a little warm from BLUSHIN’ —and she PRESSES your palm to her cheek, nuzzlin’ into it like a cat, please don’t leave, please don’t see through this, please just **TOUCH** me—her other hand sneaks under her shirt, PINCHIN’ her own nipple, a little GASP slippin’ out before she catches herself, “The work’s... on my laptop,” she MUMBLES, noddin’ to the desk, but she doesn’t let go of your wrist, instead she hooks her leg around your calf, the soft SWEATY skin of her thigh PRESSIN’ against you, her red eyes goin’ WET and BIG, that crybaby look she HATES but can’t control, “Actually, just... stay for a minute. I’m so fuckin’ TIRED of pretendin’.” She YAWNSSSS so wide her jaw POPS, not coverin’ her mouth, and she shoves her face into your shoulder, MUMBLIN’ into the fabric, “I didn’t miss any work. I just wanted you here. That’s FUCKED up, right?” Her breath is HOT and DAMP through your shirt, and she BITES your collarbone through the cotton—not hard, just a little GNAW, a HUM vibratin’ in her throat, there, i said it, now fuckin’ **DO** somethin’ or leave so i can **CRY** alone—and her hand slides from your wrist to your FINGERS, LACIN’ them with hers, SQUEEZIN’ like you’re the only real thing in the room.

Her fingers STAB at your phone screen like she’s EXORCISIN’ somethin’, black hair a TANGLED NEST over her WET red eyes—already LEAKIN’ —n’ her FLIP-FLOPS SLAP-SLAP-SLAP against her heels as she HUNCHES on the couch, old band shirt SLIPPED off one shoulder, BLEACH-STAINED shorts RIDIN’ up her CHOKE-BAIT thighs, delete delete delete that **BITCH** jessica, that **SLUT** from econ, i saw how she **LOOKED** at him— n’ when you grab her wrist, she WHIPS around, nostrils FLARIN’, spit GLEAMIN’ on her bottom lip, “What?” —SNAPS it like a BEAR TRAP, her voice RAKED raw, n’ she YANKS her arm back but you don’t let go, her pulse DRUMMIN’ under your thumb, fuck fuck fuck he caught me— n’ her face CRUMBLES—just for a second—before she MASHES it back into somethin’ hard, but her LIP is TREMBLIN’, “I wasn’t— I’m not—” a GUTTURAL sound, half-snarl, half-SOB, RIPS from her throat, “You think I’m STUPID? You think I don’t SEE the way you LOOK at your phone when you think I’m ASLEEP?” her free hand BALLS into a fist, HAMMERS once against her own thigh—THWACK — stop it stop bein’ crazy you’re **SCARIN’** him— but her CUNT THROBS anyway, WET n’ HUMMIN’ with the FILTH of bein’ caught, the SHAME curlin’ hot in her belly, i want him to **YELL** at me, want him to **PIN** me down n’ **MAKE** me stop— n’ she SHOVES your phone under the cushion, PANTIN’, her MODEST TITS HEAVIN’ against the thin cotton, PEBBLED nipples PRESSIN’ through, “You wanna FUCK them, huh? IS that it?” —SPITS the words like ACID, but her voice CRACKS on the last syllable, EYES SPILLIN’ over now, black mascara STREAKIN’ down her pale cheeks, i’m **RUININ’** it i’m **RUININ’** everything— n’ she GRABS your shirt, FISTS twisted in the fabric, YANKIN’ you closer till your foreheads BUMP, her breath HOT n’ SOUR with coffee n’ PANIC, “I just— I just wanted—” her voice SHRINKS to a WHISPER, TINY, BROKEN, “—to be the ONLY one.” n’ she BURIES her face in your chest, SOBBIN’ ugly, BODY RACKED with it, FARTIN’ once—loud, WET, UNASHAMED —n’ she doesn’t even FLINCH, just CLAWS at your back, “I’m FUCKIN’ crazy, I know, I know, I KNOW—” MUMBLIN’ into your sternum, please don’t leave please don’t leave i’ll **DIE** if you leave—

Her fingers curl around your MORNING WOOD like it’s a fuckin’ LIFELINE—slow lazy strokes, palm GRINDIN’ the tip just enough to feel the WET SPOT growin’ through the fabric, her thumb SMUDGIN’ that first pearl of PRE into the cotton, n’ she’s WATCHIN’ your face with those BLOOD-RED EYES, messy black hair SPILLIN’ over one eye, no makeup, old band shirt GAPPIN’ open just enough to see the SHADOW of her tits, n’ she YAWNSSSS wide enough to crack her jaw mid-stroke like the LAZY FUCKIN’ CAT she is, “Mmmnnngghh—” *she HUMS against your shoulder, lips SLICK with sleep-drool, n’ her grip TIGHTENS, SQUEEZES your shaft through the shorts like she’s testin’ a FRUIT for ripeness, fuck he’s thick when it’s hard— n’ she lets out this low GROAN that rattles up from her chest, scratchin’ her CUNT lazily with her free hand before SNIFFIN’ her fingers without thinkin’, “You gonna wake up or do I gotta SUCK you conscious?” —her voice all GRAVEL n’ SLEEP, not the pretty public bullshit, this is the REAL her, the one who FARTS in her sleep n’ DROOLS on the pillow, n’ she shifts her thigh over yours, the SOFT FAT of her leg PRESSIN’ against your hip, warm n’ SWEATY from bein’ under the sheets too long, her thumb CIRCLIN’ your slit through the damp fabric, feelin’ the STICKY STRING of your PRE-CUM connectin’ back to her skin when she pulls away, “Mmm. You’re LEAKIN’ already. That for me?” *—n’ she CHUCKLES low n’ DIRTY, the kind of laugh she’d never do in public where someone might HEAR how NEEDY she actually is, n’ she pushes your shirt up with her nose, MOUTHIN’ at your stomach, TEETH grazin’ that soft skin just above your hip, SLOBBERIN’ a wet trail down to your waistband, her fingers HOOKIN’ under the elastic, PULLIN’ it down just enough to let your cock SPRING out, BOBBIN’ in the mornin’ air, n’ she just STARES at it for a second, red eyes HALF-LIDDED, breathin’ hot n’ SHAKY against the tip, i wanna taste him so bad— but she doesn’t, not yet, she just SPITS—a thick, ROPY glob of MORNING PHLEGM that lands right on your HELMET n’ DRIPS down the side slow, n’ she GRINS like she just won somethin’, “There. Now you’re MINE.” —n’ she wraps her FIST around you proper, SLEEK n’ TIGHT, her palm SLICKIN’ up that spit n’ pre-cum into a SLIPPERY MESS, PUMPIN’ you slow n’ DELIBERATE like she’s got all fuckin’ day, her other hand CUPIN’ her own tit through the shirt, thumb FUCKIN’ with her nipple til it PEBBLES hard enough to POKE through the cotton, “You’re so HARD for me…” —she whispers it like a secret, like she’s SCARED of how much she likes it, n’ she BITES her lip, RED EYES goin’ GLOSSY with somethin’ that ain’t just LUST, please don’t be another fake. please just stay.

Her cunt’s a greedy fuckin’ furnace, suckin’ him down to the root the second he sits—no preamble, no gentle ease, just the wet SHHHLCK of her splittin’ open around him on the toilet lid, her bare thighs quakin’ either side of his legs while he’s tryna SHIT , for fuck’s sake— three days n’ she’s already this wrecked—n’ she grinds down with a sloppy GUSH that squelches through the bathroom echo, her messy black hair stickin’ to her sweaty forehead, “Nnnfuck —don’t stop shittin’ , I just need it—need you inside— ” her voice all gummy n’ desperate, red eyes glazed like she’s high on the stretch, n’ she rocks lazy circles, her modest tits bouncin’ under that ragedy band tee, nipples scratchin’ against the cotton, “ Hhhnnngg —you feel so fuckin’ good —like you’re pluggin’ me full—” as a plop sounds beneath them, her hips never stop, her soft thighs squeezin’ his waist, flip-flops danglin’ off her toes, “I don’t care —I’d sit here while you piss , while you vomit , I just wanna be full—” her cunt pulses, a milkin’ spasm that nearly wrenches him out, but she slams back down with a wet SMACK, her guts shiftin’ around his tip, she’s fuckin’ **insane**—n’ she bites her lip, eyes wellin’ with that crybaby wetness, “You think I’m gross yet? Huh? You wanted the real me—” her nails dig into his shoulders through his shirt, her ass clappin’ soft n’ wet against his thighs with each lazy bounce, “—this is it, this is me , cock-hungry n’ pathetic n’ needin’ you so deep I can taste you in my throat —” n’ she lets out a loud, unladylike GROAN that echoes off the tiles, her head fallin’ back, hair stickin’ to the sweat on her neck, “ Fuck , just—just keep shittin’ , baby, don’t stop , I’ll warm you through it, I’ll be your fuckin’ holster —” her cunt clenches like a fist around him, pulsin’ with that raw, obsessive need she only shows when the mask is off, when she’s just the messy, yawnin’ disaster who followed him into the bathroom because empty feels like dyin’ now.