Climax King

0.2

It'd been three days since I first asked Finn to help me out. I'd pass him in the halls, watching him work his magic with other girls who swooned at the sight of a tall boy in a leather jacket. But he was oblivious to my presence, for both of our sake's I could say.

"Hey, what do you say I come over tonight? We eat some pizza, watch that show you like?"

I smile brightly, hiding he anxiety my whole plan was bringing on. "You know I'd love to, but I've got a lot of calculus homework and with finals coming up, how about Saturday? My parents are heading down State College to visit my sister. The house is all our." I say in a seductive whisper.

He smirks devilishly, his hormonal mind probably flashing images of him fucking me on my bed, the counter, every square surface in my house. But Finn catches my eyes before he could agree or disagree. His eyes were locked on me, as if singling me out in the crowd.

"Speaking of calculus, I totally forgot I need to see Mr. Hughes about the homework assessment. I'll text you later. Bye!" I press a soft kiss to his cheek before gathering my bag and walking out the cafeteria doors.

I could only hope Finn was following, seeing as I didn't have much of a choice. Had I approached him, Josh would have attempted soemthing as if fighting for my hand. But if I continued to walk until I reached the secluded location during our lunch period, then more arrangements could be made with the Climax King himself.

I walk to the back of the library, hoping, praying, that Finn followed me or at least got the idea that we needed to schedule something soon.

I browse the books, hoping to bring my mind off anything and everything. I needed a clear space for any of this to pan out perfectly. There could be no flaws, no misjudgments, just pure and utter perfection.

I pull out a hardback book, nearly jumping at the person on the other side.

"Did my stunning good looks startle you?" He asks devilishly just above a whisper.i frantically look around, despite me knowing rarely anyone filled this part of the building unless entirely necessary. Which it was in my case.

I snort unattractively, skimming through the pages of the book I had no interest in actually reading. "No. I think it was your horrid facial features. But hey, whatever helps you sleep a night." I shoot back, trying to act nonchalnant. What's that saying again? Enemies can smell your fear.

"Yeah well, you need my help to make you come at night so I think you owe me utter most respect."

I look around again, becoming more and more weary about my final decision to trust a compete stranger, someone who is probably in a mob, to just help my arousal. Sounds entirely safe. I do reccomend.

"Could you say any of this shit louder? God. If people find out I went to you of all people, what are they going to think?"

He smirks, walking around the bookshelf. I hold my stance, my posture hopefully not succeeding anything past strictly professional. If this, whatever this is, was going  to work, I couldn't get caught up in his smooth words or tousled hair. I had my own smooth worded jock.

"So what time am I coming over tonight?" He asks, fiddling with the spine of a random book. I watch his hand skillfully travel down the leathered spine, drying my throat out entirely. I gulp down air, as if it'd help my situation. If this was even a situation.