Remember earlier, like a couple chapters of my life back, when I went "hey, it's just one little talk, what could pooooooossibly go wrong?" We were all there, we all collectively recognized the foreboding and purposely dramatic presentation of the words within the story, so were any of us really surprised by the way things escalated? For how overused the theory of "the butterfly effect" is, particularly within the more *pretentious* forms of media, hiding behind such a pseudo-intellectual concept, you'd think I'd have been able to see this coming.
I mean, sure, maybe I couldn't have exactly guessed that I'd end up getting choked out and groped (with consent this time, as all times should) by the girl I was innocently following into the bathroom- but to think that nothing would come of it?
Not much harm can come from a casual, "little talk", just as long as it stays a "little talk". Which, as we have all witnessed, was not at all the case.
Besides, the two of us just meeting up and chatting wouldn't have been a very exciting outcome. Especially given the cliffhanger ending, and aforementioned foreboding final words, that we were all left off with. But alas, I had no concept of general storytelling; and the rules of all this fourth-wall breaking stuff I do, which were being used pretty fast and loose here, didn't allow me to properly foresee the approaching development in my story.
Like seriously, was this supposed to be a narration after the fact? Was I actively saying all of this, to no one, as I lived it? Was this a journal I secretly kept, in a diary by my bed?
Was I the Wattpad writer all along? Did any of it really matter, or have any impact on the story in general, and was just used a fun way for an extra layer of character interaction within said story?
Eh, maybe. Whatever.
Add all of that shit together, and you end up where I was, slumped on the floor of my school's bathroom, barely managing to remain conscious. Our sex-capade didn't remain confined to our hidey-stall for much longer, the tight space unable to contain our lust-fueled rampage. I wasn't even sure how we ended up outside the stall, given the locked door and general
lack-of-focus on anything outside of eachother, but outside we were. Thankfully, nobody had walked in since Caitlyn- who we also hadn't heard or seen since she last departed- because Kara wasted no time once we were freed. She had immediately lifted me up, still having a strong hold on my ass from under me, placed me atop the sinks across the room from us, yanked my shorts down to my knees, pushed my underwear aside like Moses parting the Red Sea, and dug the fuck in.
Everything was kind of a fuzzy-blur from then on, my memory mostly filled with the overwhelming ecstasy from between my legs. Until we arrive to now, my mind still as fucked as I had just been, where I sat panting, next to a lone trashcan, still recovering from said fucking, for my first *real* time. No magic bullshit, no drugging, just real, beautiful sex, between two sexually-charged girls.
Because apparently every girl I ran into was also attracted to girls, and equally as horny, all the time.
Everything felt numb, and good. I didn't even care that I was a complete mess, half-naked in a school bathroom. Kara was noticeably more put-together than I was, understandably so, and was already fully dressed and drying her hands off next to me. Tossing the paper towel down into my neighboring trash can, she stepped one foot over my legs, stopping in front of me. Leaning down, she cupped my chin, gently forcing my head up to her- I just stupidly smiled at her.
"Put your clothes on." She commands, bending down to kiss me when I nod my understanding. "You were very fun to play with." She praises, pulling away from the kiss and letting my body limply fall back against the wall. "Let's do this again sometime" she flirts, dropping my shirt onto my lap, pausing to look down at me once more, before simply turning and walking down the hall towards the exit, not offering another word. I focused on my breathing, my mind and body still recovering from the, quite literally, orgasmic ordeal it was just put through. I listened to her footsteps descending down the hall, not quite sure how to interpret things between us at this point, but that would have to come later. At the sound of the door creaking open and shutting behind Kara, I realized I should probably listen to her advice and make my way out of here.
YOU ARE READING
Technological Transformations
RomanceCharles Mulock was absolutely dreading his first day of junior year. Not that anyone really wanted to go back to school in the first place, but Charles was nervous of seeing his ex, Dawn, again. They had dated for a few months last year, but then sh...
