0 comments/ 12469 views/ 3 favorites Fennel By: Peachbox Spots. And dots. Dots and spots. Is there a difference? I'm not sure, but there are a number of them currently obscuring my vision. Black ones and white ones. Not that it makes any sense, since the background is black. Some red. Now, that just spoiled the wonderful monotone atmosphere they had created for me, what a let down. Funny, I could swear these kinds of spots tend to be associated with pain. But there-- oh, oh.. now I feel it. Ow. Pain. Ow. Light floods my sight as I part my left lid the most miniscule amount I can manage. Apparently, not enough. At first, just the dull yellow of what I can only assume are cheap, energy-saving light bulbs. As if a weaker light bulb's going to save the Earth. And then, blurry, peach-coloured shapes. Circles. Spheres. Heads. Having had enough of this ridiculous squinting, I open my eyes, the look on my face one of utter confusion as 6 pairs of eyes stare down at me. Only now do I realise my horrible fate: I've got turkey neck. Shit. I try to clear my throat, in order to grasp some kind of control over this awkward situation. Instead, a gurgle. Of course, with my neck like this, of course that would happen. Bloody— suddenly, a flash of pink as something is thrust out across the northern sector of my now less impaired vision. "Too pink.." I grumble. "Shut up! You said you liked it." High-pitched voice.. Could be one of millions of women. Or a pre-pubescent boy. However, most likely Fennel. "Besides, you're an idiot." "Yeah, I got your text. I believe that's how I ended up on the floor." "Want a hand up?" Fennel asks, ridiculous grin spread across her face. "Please." I sigh. It takes all of her might to bring me back onto my feet, which is made all the more difficult by the reluctance of my legs to cooperate with her. Having regained my sense in those two short moments between being horizontal and vertical, I pick up the bright yellow sign, with a sort of amusing little diagram of a man who almost looks like he's achieved flight in the moments before hitting the ground. Looking up at the now 4 pairs of concern-riddled eyes, I recite its words of wisdom, coolly and calmly. "Caution: slippery floor." I decide not to toss in a wink at the end. No laughter. Fair enough. Some time slips from me, and now I'm nursing a hot cup of coffee, hands clasping it as though it's providing me a will to live, head still throbbing. "How's your head?" Fennel asks, her voice, I note, lightly topped with a dash of concern which is all but smothered by the smirk on her face. "Painful. Whose idea was it to make floors so hard? I don't like him." I reply as light-heartedly as possible. "Probably the same guy that cursed this world to never know what it's like to have floors made of jelly" she said. Knowing Fennel, this was not a spontaneous remark, but instead the reiteration of a past thought. She cupped her shocking-pink-but-with-distinct-black-tips fringe and pushed it behind her right ear, the leftmost bangs still falling over her eye, her lips forming a sort of frustrated pout. A frown spoilt this delightful moment as she noticed a horrific mistake on her Sudoku grid and began furiously grinding the paper with her rubber. "Shit" she muttered. "I wrote in biro." I snorted, masking this action with a sip of my coffee as her head shot up, eyes pre-squinted with intent to glare. I returned her glare after swallowing. "Stop being so anti-social, you anti-social, Sudoku-loving weirdo." I chortle with delight at my witty comment. "I will the moment you stop being such a gay" she breathes, her pen tracing circles around the paper, somewhat like a vulture, circling its prey.. which, incidentally, seems to reflect Fennel's personality. Ironic. Or wait, is it? I always get the use of that word wrong. No one can hear my witty comments in here, either. "Ironic." I remark. "What is?" "The way your pen traces circles around the paper, it's sort of like a vulture which, incidentally, is sort of what you are." Happy with this, I lean back to take a victory sip. "I fell asleep at 'the'." Victory sip: denied. "Also, you're mean." "Yeah, but you love it." [Fennel's voice]Oh God I do, and it just makes me so damn hot. [Reverting] If only. "You do realise I actually wanted to, you know, talk?" I say, with slight desperation. "Really?" she asked in all honesty, digging her pen into the little dimple on the underside of her chin. "Well, yeah. Haven't really had a chance to talk to you recently, what with 'Reflections of Mary' basically dominating your life." "Oh hey, you remembered the name!" she beamed, "and yeah, Abby's been sort of reluctant to continue recently. I mean, I just need photos, they don't take that long." I winced as she conjured up the fond memory of 6 hours in the same, awkward pose, with only her deranged mutterings and "It's for art!" to keep me company. "Speaking of which, how's that er.. golden sculpture woman thingy you're doing?" "It's coming along nicely. I mean, I may die a premature death what with all the plaster I inhale with every chisel, but it's all for the sake of art, right?" I smile at her little fingers as she rolls them against the table. Her nails probably would be quite nice if they weren't flecked with paint of varying shade of brown. [Fennel's voice echoes] But brown is such a deep, emotional colour! I love painting with it. [Me] No, Nell. Brown is the colour of poo. I lean back in my chair, sipping my coffee. The room for a moment is silent as I admire Nell's soft eyes, the gentle mahogany hue occasionally catching the sunlight, giving them a bronze tinge. She looked up at me momentarily, tongue caught in the corner of her mouth between pearly, white teeth, hardly any difference between her now and the little, dirty blond-haired girl who struggled to keep in the lines in her colouring books, mumbling something like "if 6 and 3.. but the 7 means I can't.. oh! And done.", I wasn't really paying attention. She looked at me, confused for a moment before saying, "Well.. you wanted to talk, didn't you?" "I think I died waiting for you to finish that Sudoku grid." She grinned toothily. At last, I had her all to myself. Damn girl is always busy with something. We spent the next 2 hours or so fiddling with coffee cups, gagging at the cold drink, the world a distant blur of colour and noise as we relived our 13-or-so year old friendship, washes of grey occasionally sweeping over the piercing sunshine, but we didn't notice. "It's really weird not living next to you anymore, you know? I keep expecting you to phone me with promises of some Jerry love and hours of the Sims.", she said, stroking the surface of her coffee with a spoon. "Please, don't remind me about how much of a loser I used to be." "Used to be?" she asked, with another cheeky little grin, fluttering her eyelashes in response to my glaring. "I was thinking of changing my hair colour, actually. I mean, I love the pink and all, but it's not as sexy as, say, a really deep sort of scarlet red. What do you think?" "Well, your hair does look like you dunked your bald head in candy floss." "Funny, I think that's what you said about it the first time.", she said, whilst twirling a particularly long bang around her index finger, pausing to inspect it before then folding it across her face like a moustache. "That's not such a good idea", I said, prepping yet another witty joke, "you're manly enough as it is without adding a moustache into the mix." She laughed, playfully punching me in the arm. Mocking pain, I reeled away from her. "Hey!" I exclaimed, rubbing the fist's zone of impact, "now, if you had been a real-sized person, that could've been painful." She pouted. "I am a real size person, I'm just under average height for a girl, dammit!" she said, throwing a mock-tantrum in the process. "Yes, but you have to remember, average height for a girl equals tiny compared to a guy." I joked. "You're not that tall for a guy, you know. 5'10" is pretty short." "Hey... shut up" was my witty comeback. Being this witty takes effort and sometimes I just run out of juice. She leant back, hanging her head over the back of the chair. Can't help but notice, but... not a lot of cleavage on show today. Pity. Her rather baggy cardigan concealed her, what I could only assume were, rather ample bosom. Unfortunately, it was difficult to estimate accurately their size since she had a tendency to wear very modest clothing. Odd really, when you think about it; shocking pink hair, bright yellow Converses, bright red jeans and a baggy, light blue cardigan that disguised how buxom she really was. The jeans, however, did accentuate her ass magnificently. Like a ripe little peach. Alas, my current thought train was interrupted by a sudden streak of lightning, followed by a delayed boom. "Wha--, when did that start?" she asked, her expression one of genuine disappointment. "Spot on again, Google weather report. Sunshine and temperatures of 24 degrees Celsius throughout the day..." I groaned. "Do you wanna get back?" she asked, "before it turns torrential out there?" "Sure, but do you mind if we go back to your dorm? My stuff is all in boxes; I have to clear everything out for Easter." "But of course, kind sir," she chimed excitedly. We quickly left the café, primarily due to the fact that the owner had gotten quite annoyed at the two customers who had bought 1 cup of coffee each and spent 3 or so hours occupying a table for 4, but also because she hated the rain. We stood beneath the rain shelter for about 10 minutes, enjoying the pre-rain-running procrastination. "I hate getting wet," she groaned. Perverted thought. Hush, libido. "My converses are gonna get so soaked!" "At least you didn't wear your Uggs." At that comment, she slowly turned to me, perfectly raised eyebrow an indication of the imminent sarcastic remark. "Should you possess such knowledge?" she asked suspiciously, before berating the true nature of my gender, as she so often does. "Well, look at it this way: I'm a, supposedly, feminine guy, and you're a very masculine girl, together I think we could just about pass for one legitimate 'normal' couple." She punched me in the arm. Déjà vu? "I am not manly!" "Your tiny fists beg to differ." Again, she replied with violence, this time pinching my arm. "Better?" "Oww, you have sharp fingers, you know?" her lips curling into a grin once more at this. After 2 or 3 more insults had been thrown, we ventured out into the now torrential rain, arm in arm. Despite her earlier claims, she happily spread the cold, wet joy of every puddle we encountered, until about half way through our journey, at which point the rain was so ridiculously heavy that we could hardly see 20ft ahead of us, she started shivering against my arm. Instantly, the old chivalry kicked in and I offered her my jumper. "I'm fine, really," she pleaded, "I'm a big girl, I don't need you to hold my hand you know, since the--" she was suddenly interrupted by a surprise attack from the cutest little sneeze. I grinned at her, on the verge of comment, arm out-stretched with my jumper. "Don't even," she said, blinking sporadically as drops of rain trickled down her forehead. We staggered in through the foyer door gripped by a fit of laughter; I'd slipped. Again. My ass was now painted a lovely shade of brown. I fell to my knees the moment we were out of the rain, one hand braced against the floor, the other cradling my throbbing ass as I half groaned, half laughed in pain. Fennel clutched her chest as she struggled to breathe between gasps of laughter, stumbling into the corner for support. "It's not funny, it hurts!" I yelled mid-laughter. She dragged me up off my feet, away from the confused looks of the much dryer passersby and up the stairs towards her room. It takes a moment for her to find her key, since she is still shaking with laughter. Leaning against the doorframe, I unintentionally get a whiff of her hair; even when damp it smells sweet and sort of creamy, but with this edge that gave your nose a sort of pleasant sting. That stuff about her being a vulture earlier was utter bollocks, I just like trying to make witty comments. Keeps me on my toes. Having opened the door, she happily skips in, spinning in a perfect 180 degrees to face me. "You know where the toilet is, might want to clean some of that mud from your elbows," she said, with a toothy smile, "I need to change, so choppy chop." I obeyed, shuffling into the bathroom. I grab a tissue and clean my elbows, feeling like an 11-year-old kid again who's just tripped in the mud. Christ it's cold, I think to myself. I emerge from the bathroom a few minutes later, taking care not to slip on my wet socks. The remaining light swarms inside the room as I push the door back to reveal an almost-naked Fennel, clad only in her bra and panties, bent over by the window, drying her hair with a dark red towel. For a moment, I stand there, eyebrows furrowed. No longer that skinny, little, pale kid I used to know. Her legs are somehow both slender and plump, meeting her curvy little ass at cute little lip. Her panties, however, are perhaps a little too small as the cut into her ass, giving that delicious sort of "bursting" look. To top off my little perving session, she does that thing where she hooks her index fingers beneath the lining of her panties and pulls the fabric out so that it provides a little more coverage. Having perved enough, I clear my throat. Not a gurgle this time, thank God. She turns around slowly, embarrassed look spread across her face. "You... just saw me un-wedgie myself, didn't you?" "Sort of." "Well, I hope it provided some entertainment at least," she said, clasping her arms around herself as she continued shivering. "Shouldn't you uh.. put some clothes on? You look cold." "Do you wear clothes in bed?" "Unless you count pyjamas, then no." "Then no, I'm not putting some clothes on," she said, with a little smile, climbing under her quilt. "Isn't it cold in those clothes?" "Little bit, seeing as someone stole my jumper and left me in this t-shirt." "Oh stop complaining, you little girl, and get under here with me," she said, patting the bed. I paused, soaking up the moment. "Yeah alright." I tore off my t-shirt, hopping over to the bed as I tried to liberate my left leg from the extremely soggy jeans, before climbing under the covers with her. "My God, you take up a lot of space." "Shut up, I'm not fat." I made a frowny at her. "Then what's this?" she asked, grabbing my port love handle and jiggling it. I scoffed and reached to grab hers, but she gasped and batted my hand away. "Don't you dare!" She burst into a fit of giggles as she attempted to grab my hands before they could expose her handles d'amour. After a few minutes of letting her overpower me, we retreated to friendly ground and lay on our sides. The space between us, I noticed, had lessened significantly. "I've just realised that I'm basically naked," she said, all of a sudden. I nodded in agreement. "It's weird," she continued, "I don't feel that awkward around you. I guess those years really cemented my trust in our friendship." Damn. Friend-zone confirmation. I propped myself up on an elbow and openly sighed, accidentally. "Is something wrong?" she asked innocently. "Oh, uh, no, I was just, sort of, agreeing with you." She pondered this for a moment with an audible 'hmm', before flopping onto her back, her chest swaying with the impact. I watched the last of the sunlight paint the sky a rose-orange colour. I'd spent an entire day with her and hardly noticed. I could hear her breathing; soft, light, but oddly shallow, like she was battling with something in her mind. Her breathing paused for a moment, and she turned to me, eyes wrought with, what looked like, concern. "You know, I haven't had a boyfriend in ages." "Aww Fenn, you know my track record with boyfriends, you don't need to flaunt your past ones in front of me," I said, smiling at her. She laughed, spontaneously snorting at the end. "What? Shit! I'm sorry, that was creepy. If you want to leave and never see me every again, I'll understand." I laughed, patting her on the head. "I got used to how disgusting you are a long time ago." "Thanks." "You're welcome. So anyway, what's with the sudden relationship crisis?" "I dunno.. although, it's not really a crisis. I was just thinking about it. I mean, I like being single. It's feels more free and I don't have any constraints." "So what's the problem?" "Well, the freedom can't compare at all to the sense of belonging and intimacy, and the.. well, you as a guy might not get this, but knowing that if I'm sad or lonely, scared or anything, I know that I can retreat into that safe, warm embrace of his arms, and have that sense of security that nothing else can bring." Her eyes seemed to glaze over as she finished. I paused for a moment, slightly confused; this was a side I had never seen of Fennel, someone who was much more complex than I had known, she was no longer simply this tomboyish, kooky little girl. Instead, she was a deep, beautifully romantic mind, disguised as the little girl who lived next door to me. "Why are you telling me this, Fenn?" "Because I like you, idiot. You like me, don't you? 13 years must have done something for you." Haha, fuck you, friend-zone. She punched me playfully in the arm, her face assuming that ridiculous smirk from this morning. She scooched closer to me, covering what little space was left between us. Her hair was still damp, and a ruffled bang fell across her eye in the most convenient way, making her look all the cuter. "You.. do like me, don't you?" she asked again, smirk receding slightly. At that moment, I had never been so lost for words. I tried furiously to find something to adequately describe how I felt. Fuck it. I leant in and kissed her. It was the most romantic thing I could think of. She seemed not to respond for the first few seconds, which worried me, but then I felt her push against me, felt her body rise as she moved into the kiss. After what felt like far too short a time, we parted silently. Her eyes remained closed, and without opening them she breathed, "Mmm, that's the best kind of yes." She opened her eyes, gentle and hazel and put her arms around me, wrapping them around my neck. She kissed me again, pulling her body against mine. Mmm, breasts. I pressed one hand against the space between her shoulder blades, the other I slid beneath her and placed against the small of her back, using both to press her tighter against me, to which she replied by lifting her right leg and wrapping it around my own. I felt myself adapt to her; she persisted in tilting her head to the right, so I went left, she liked to play 'give and take' with her tongue, so I complied, occasionally wrapping mine around hers, with which her heavy breathing implied approval. After what felt like an age, we parted lips, but remained in the embrace. The last pink hues of daylight made a feeble attempt to brighten the room. The light fell across her face in a soft, pinkish gradient, gentle harmonising with her skin tone, creating this beautiful palette of colour. As beautiful as she was. "Actually, I used to have quite a big crush on you," I blurted out. Her eyes widened with a look of surprise and intrigue. "Really?" she whispered. "Really," I whispered back. "I've never really had the courage to admit it to anyone.. or even myself. But.. you make me really happy, Fenn." She swelled with happiness, burying her little head beneath my chin. My heart felt massive in my chest, especially with her so close to it. Unfortunately, my cock shared a similar feeling, and I could feel it already pressing against her stomach. As much as I had wanted to fuck Fennel in the past, this was currently the last thing I wanted; I would've traded the raging hard-on for anything if it meant I could hold her like this for a little longer. Alas, this was not to be. She stirred beneath my embrace, bringing her head out to look at me. "I make you that happy, do I?" she said with her trademark grin. I decided to capitalise on the moment. Fennel "I'm not sure what you mean, how happy is that happy?" She happily responded to my obvious prompt, dipping her right hand into my pants and grabbing my cock with a pleasantly firm, purposeful grip. "Oh, that." I said, grinning like an idiot. She ran her palm down the length of my shaft. Upon reaching the base, her eyes widened. "Where's the rest of it?" My eyebrows hit my hairline. Oh God, I just died on the inside. Seeing the look of utter defeat on my face, she snorted, and then burst into a little fit of giggles. "I'm kidding! God, you're so sensitive!" she said, peeking at it under the covers, "I mean, you actually have some semblance of a shaft, unlike some guys." I beamed. I think I just died. Er, in the good way, not the bad way. Her head went further into the covers. A little, muffled voice emerged in place of hers, "Oh, kudos." "I'm sorry?" "Don't be, it looks quite nice." My cock throbbed with happiness at the comment. She re-emerged, looking pleasantly surprised. "I'm sorry but, you know, I have principles." "Eh?" "I don't tend to have sex with guys to whom I declared an attraction for which I originally disguised as a friendship laden with insults on the first night, minutes after our first kiss." "That's totally understandable. And hang on, first?" "Oh sorry, I forgot about my 16th. Guess you didn't really 'rock my world' at the time." Back to the insults. "Look.. your hand's on my cock, I'm worried that if I insult you back, something terrible might happen, so I'll refrain." She giggled, and started moving her hand up and down along my stiff shaft. I shivered beneath her grasp; this was Fennel, my best friend since the age of 6, with her hand on my cock. And she was hot. Really hot. Maybe I should tell her so. I unintentionally rolled onto my back, cock standing in all its glory, her little hand still diligently pumping away at it. She leant over and kissed me, biting my lower lip as she pulled away. She changed her approach, rubbing the head of my cock between fingers and palm before stroking my shaft again. I was belting out pre-cum by this point, and each stroke of my shaft made a sticky, wet noise. "Mmm, how's that?" she asked, gently kissing my neck and shoulder. "Unh.. great.." I breathed. And I would certainly know, I've had a handjob from a girl with sandpaper for hands. I felt myself nearing climax, but I didn't want it to end. I reached behind my head and grabbed the bed's headboard. I concentrated on holding it back, but she seemed to pick up on this, and pumped it harder. She propped herself up on her free hand, smiling at me in the fading light, her breasts swaying in time with each thrust of her hand. I couldn't hold it any longer, her grip was too perfect, her motion too tantalising. I breathed a 'Shit' in staggered breaths as I came. I couldn't tell where it went, just that my balls ached with each spurt, and that it was the hardest orgasm I'd had in a long time. As it began to die, I gave one last spurt before relaxing my arm that had been tensed against the headboard. "I'm sorry..." I began, sort of feebly and pointlessly. "Why?" she asked rhetorically, bringing her arm out from under the quilt. Her hand and forearm were streaked with silvery lines and puddles of my cum. "I don't tend to do this, but..." she broke mid-sentence and began to lick the cum from her arm. I watched her, getting more turned on by the minute. It took her a good amount of time to work her way up from her elbow to her fingers, and she made sure to suck on each finger before sighing with delight. I was mesmerised by the bulge made in her throat as she swallowed; I counted 3 in total. "As I was saying, I don't tend to swallow my boyfriend's cum, I'm not partial to the taste, but I thought I'd make a special effort after you buttered me up with that 'you make me so happy' bit," she said, smiling sweetly at me. "What bit? I was serious." "Really?" she tilted her head to the side in bewilderment. "Well.. yes, you do make me happy. What's so hard to believe about that?" "Oh, it just.. well, whenever it's been said to me in the past, it uh.. didn't turn out to be true." She bit her lower lip as she finished her sentence. She seemed to be waiting for confirmation of this. "Seriously? What kind of asshole did you date before me? I meant it, hon." Stunned for a moment, she lay against my chest. My heart resumed its frantic pounding. "Really?" "Yes, really," I said, kissing her head. "Also, are you saying I'm your boyfriend?" "Well, that's the kind of conclusion we came to, wasn't it?" she asked, momentarily anxious about my answer. "It is, I just.. hadn't really labelled myself as that yet. Or even thought of you as my girlfriend. Hey, roll onto your side so I can hold you again." She beamed and replied by lying back on her side, facing me. "Other side," I said with a smile." "Oh, you wish to partake in some spooning? Fun." Taking my free hand, she rolled onto her opposite side, holding my palm against her stomach. Sheathing my dick, I lay next to her, pressing my body against hers. I placed a few kisses on her neck, smelling her hair in the process. She moaned quietly in approval. I could feel her warmth coursing through my fingers, each rise and fall of her body, it was all I could have ever wanted. I could feel her at my fingertips; she was restless, her hand atop mine fed me her sudden urge. My hand moved down her midriff, meeting the thin fabric that was the last, now unwilling defence. At first, I remained above the hem line, cupping the little, warm mound between her legs. She eagerly began to lift her topmost leg, a gush of warmth enveloping my hand beneath the quilt. With 4 connected fingertips, I traced a small circle across the thin fabric, her breathing becoming shallower with each full revolution. Her hand that had originally rested upon mine was now placed on my cheek. I propped myself up on my unused arm as she turned my face to hers, our lips meeting again. We kissed passionately, though at times she would lose her breath and spend moments breathing sharply, in time with the circles I continued to trace. The fabric was now damp and her various contours exposed at its surface. My fingers retraced their steps up her midriff, and then resumed their journey south, this time drifting beneath the lay of fabric. Her skin was warm and moist, my fingertips matching the shape of each contour as I moved them in a simple up and down motion. Her breathing changed again, she would now take large, sharp intakes of air, holding it before breathing out and resuming the rapid, shallow breaths. I kissed her once on the lips, with definite intent, before allowing my middle finger to sink inside her. The hand she had been lying on was now on her topmost breast, gently fondling the cloth-covered flesh, whilst her other hand resumed its resting place on mine, urging me on. I allowed myself to go knuckle deep before retreating and entering her again. She was so incredibly warm and wet on the inside, each push and pull of my finger emitting an almost inaudible sloshing noise. I added my thumb into the mix, stroking her little clit in a similar circular motion as before. Her hand moved across the bed, looking for some kind of grip, 'til she hit the wall, planting her palm against it. Her leg came down on my hand, pressing it into her thighs. She arched her back and let out a soft, high-pitched moan as she hit orgasm, her pussy clenching around my finger, a flood of warmth enveloping my hand as she uttered a final, soft moan before resuming her shallow breaths. Eventually, her legs slacked and I was able to remove my hand. Holding it up in the moonlight, streaks of her cum could be seen glinting all over my fingers and palm. I put the tip of my index finger in my mouth, tasting her juices. It tasted warm, sour and stale, but ultimately sweet. She turned to face me, still in recovery, and gripped my hand by the wrist. She eagerly sucked her juices from my fingertips, her big, brown eyes staring up at me. I kissed her, tasting her juices on her mouth. We parted lips and put our foreheads together, her still damp hair falling over her face. She was beautiful. I closed my eyes. That familiar, light-headed feeling hit me before I even opened my eyes. I could feel light on my face, uncomfortably bright and warm. Unnhh, go away.. I want to—hang on. I'm in Fennel's room and I... Oh my God, I love this song! Na na na you look at meee? I know this... is gonna be alright—Mercury Summaahhh, in the afternoon, I hope you come back soooon. Ahh Fightstar, I would make sweet, musical love to you if you had a corporeal form. I don't include the band members, 'cuz that would make me gay. And I like pussy dammit, just ask Fennel. Speaking of which... "Morning Fe--" I began. "Men are such pigs!" she scoffed, slamming The Color Purple into the bed. She sat with her back to the wall next to my recently awakened form, arms crossed, my head at about thigh height, a familiar, frustrated pout framing her face, before it melted into guilt. "Oh, I'm sorry, did I wake you?" she said, mouth opened just wide enough to catch a little glimpse of her mischievous tongue that was a usual indicator for when, actually, she wasn't sorry at all, but more amused. "Oh, no, the light and Mercury Summer did the trick. But, backtrack, what's all this 'men are pigs' business?" She was wearing a loose, grey t-shirt with a three-eyed smiley on it, featuring the caption "Have A Nice Future" which stretched down to about half her thigh length, level with my eyes. I couldn't help but notice how, despite being baggy elsewhere, the t-shirt formed little bands of cloth where it stretched between her breasts. With a thoughtful face, she stared at the blurb-side-up book before replying. "Have you ever read The Color Purple?" "Mmm, nope, but I've heard of it. I thought it was about lesbians..." I asked cautiously, seeing her expression turn to one that said 'Only your utter gorgeousness has saved you from your total ignorance.' "Actually, it's about a 14-year-old girl, Celie, who is raped by the man she presumes to be her father, who later sells two of her children, and in general, shows what chauvinistic, racist, abusive assholes men can be." I swallowed hard. "Also, I haven't gotten to the lesbian bit yet," she finished with a smirk. Seeing my horror-strewn look, she smiled, and patted my face, as if I were an animal who'd wrongly accused himself of some bad deed. "Awww," she cooed, "don't worry, babe, when women take over the world and the majority of men are burnt at the stake, I'll make sure they let me keep you as a house pet," she said, smile unfaltering. Great... As if to reassure me of my importance, she bent low and kissed me upside down like, gently gnawing on my nose in a cute yet odd show of her affection. I pumped the air with my fists as she resumed her position against the wall. "Spiderman kiss! That's another nerdy notch on my belt." "Another? What are the others?" she said with honest intrigue. "Oh, well, there's only one other actually: a Transformers kiss." "You mean the bit where Shia LeBeouf, who has a ridiculous name by the way, kisses Megan Fox on Bumblebee's bonnet? Yeah, that was pretty hot." I love her. "I'm pretty sure 'le beouf" translates to 'the beef' in French, meaning essentially his name is 'Shia the beef." She laughed. I smiled. Definite sign of affection: she laughed at my pretty terrible joke. Self-five. I looked up at her from my horizontal contentedness. Her hair was no longer a tangled, damp mess. Instead, it seemed oddly fluffy, the black tips shining with the sunlight. She looked down at me with a raised eyebrow. "Can I help you?" she asked. Putting on my sexiest, most seductive, slightly French voice, I replied with "You come here often?" She pouted. Doesn't do that often at all. Mental rolling of eyes. Fightstar's Damocles was now playing on her radio. With a sudden burst of energy, possible due to Damocles, she flung herself on top of me, straddling me at the hips. Her breasts did their best to sway in such cramped conditions. I hate myself for it, but I can't help but notice her breasts all the time. They're just so wonderfully.. buxom. She thrust her hands at mine, which at the time were lazily placed above my head, clamping down on my wrists bringing her face so close to mine that our noses were firmly pressed against one another's. After a moment of silence and intense staring, I opened my mouth. "Mmm, you smell minty fresh." "You can thank Colgate for that. I wish I could say the same for you though." "Ouch. I'm not even out of bed and you're disappointed with me." "What can I say? You slack, I bite." She playfully bit the air above my nose. I replied with deadly force, blowing a jet of morning breath into her face. She immediately retreated, the smell overpowering her nostrils. Sitting up, she batted the air around her face, with cries of "Ahh, it's too much!" Seizing this opportunity, I pinned her arms to her sides and rolled her over so that I was on top. She looked shocked at first, before breaking down into giggles. I leaned down and kissed her, playfully biting the air above her face as I broke away from her. She scrunched her face up, pretending to gag on the taste of my mouth. "Hey, don't forget, part of that wonderful taste is your contribution from yesterday. On two accounts, come to think of it." She giggled, grinning at me toothily at the end. With my hands on her wrists, I lifted them over her head, like she had done to me, as if she were hanging horizontally by them. She squirmed beneath my grasp in a cute attempt at escape. "Oh my, you're such a big, strong man," she said, in a breathy voice, fluttering her eyelashes at me, "Please don't hurt me, I promise I'll be a good girl..." she trailed off, slowly licking her top lip in a jaw-droppingly sexy manner. "God, you're so damn cute." "I wish the same could be said for you," she giggled, as I kissed her again, this time lingering against her lips, putting each new kiss into a short, burst form, my tongue occasionally leaving me mouth to touch the tip of hers, retreating before she could reply with her own. "Stop being such a tease" she breathed between kisses, arching her back so that she could try and catch me before I retreated again. Feeling that a victory here might only enrage the beast more, I accepted defeat, her tongue shooting into my mouth, engaging mine in a slippery yet tasty battle. I broke away suddenly, leaving her kissing the air. She opened her eyes, looking disappointed. Tilting my head further to the left, I gently bit her on the nose, before getting up and plotting a course towards the bathroom, leaving her breathless, if a little disappointed. I flung open the bathroom door, smacking my minty lips. Arching my back, I sidled up against the doorframe, lifting my knee up in the most provocative gesticulation I could manage. Fennel was lying where I had left her, and had propped herself up on both elbows to absorb this wonderful sight. She sniggered at me as I slowly ran tongue over top lip, fluttering my eyelashes at her. "Like what you see?" I asked in a deep, husky voice. She continued to snigger at the spectacle. "You're weird." "It's all part of the charm." I replied, blowing her an exaggerated kiss. She gestured over to the bed by rolling her index finger at me. I sashayed obediently over to the bed, feeling pretty in control of the situation shortly before surprise was slapped onto my face as she grabbed me by the imaginary lapels of my t-shirt and dragged me into a hard kiss. I knelt above her as we feverishly locked lips and explored the depth of the other's mouth and the taste of the other's tonsils. "Mmm, minty fresh, although that adds to the things I own that are covered in your saliva," she said with a smirk. "You know you love the taste." "God, I do," she moaned breathlessly. Her hands furiously swept up and down my back, occasionally stopping to sink her fingers into my shoulder blades as I buried my face into her neck, kissing and nibbling the soft skin. Her hands, possessed by some mischievous intent, dipped beneath the lining of my boxers. Whoa, where're you going with thos—Hello! As soon as they had rested upon the two, fleshy cheeks, she squeezed, causing me to jump. She giggled that cute, little giggle of hers before licking me on the nose. "It's always a party with you," I breathed, still reeling from the strange feeling of her fingers on my bare ass. I leant back in to kiss her. "Wait," she said, her breathing shallow and laboured. "Is something wrong?" I asked. "No. Well, sort of, but it's nothing serious. I was just thinking..." "You found time to think during that?" "...how I've already seen your uh, you know, willy, and technically I've seen your boobs." Willy and boobs, so cute "Mhmm, mhmm, that's true." I nodded furiously, sensing where this was going. "So," she said, following me as I sat up on my haunches, "I mean, it's only fair if you see my boobs, right?" She gently bit the tip of her curled index finger. "That.. definitely sounds.. yes." I continued to nod as she wrapped her arms around her waist, hooking her fingers under the seam of her t-shirt. She began to pull. First I saw the tips of the V-shaped trenches made by her womanhood that lay above her panties, followed by her bellybutton, and then the beautifully smooth curvature of the underside of her breasts. She moved unbearably slowly. And then, in one fell swoop the t-shirt lay on the bed. She placed her palms on her knees, curling her shoulders inwards as she looked down, joining me in admiring her breasts. I felt as if any shred of doubt or negativity of anything in my life quietly slipped away as I stared at her perfect breasts. They joined her chest so neatly, beginning with a long, gentle curve that arced round in a perfect circle, meeting her chest again to provide only the slightest amount of lip. There was the most modest gap between them, and they pressed against the inside of her arms enough only to deform the edges very slightly. Her nipples were quite high, set neatly into the top halves of their respective breast. One of them pointed slightly away from the other whilst its counterpart stared straight at me, making them all the cuter. "So..." she giggled, noticing my expression as they wobbled ever so slightly. She padded towards me on her knees, making sure to press them firmly against my chest as she kissed me. We rose together as I kissed her back, her arms draped over my shoulders, my hands set firmly against her hips. In an instant, her hands were in my hair, her fingers running through my tresses, inhaling sharply as she puckered her lips. Fennel's short, skinny, blue-haired, art-nut friend Abby decided at this fortunate moment to stumble in through the door, getting an eyeful of the scene unfolding on her best friend's bed. Fennel gasped, mumbling something that sounded awfully like "Shit" under her breath as she turned to face Abby. However, before she could yank the quilt up to cover herself, No concern for my virtually naked body, of course, I slipped behind her and clasped her boobs in a vain attempt to shield them from sight, giving them a little squeeze as I did, unleashing a torrent of sniggering as she realised what I was doing. "Oh my God, Abby! Knock, will you!?" she said, voice reaching a pitch I'd never thought audible to man. "Class?" Abby said, completely oblivious to Fennel's exasperation, although grinning at me. "Two minutes, Abby!" she said, still harnessing her previous pitch. "Should I wait outside?--" "Yes, I think you should!" Fennel "She can stay, I'm not bothered." I mumbled, though very audibly, to which Fennel responded with an elbow to the gut. Abby, finally sensing her cue, turned and shut the door behind her. Fennel spent a moment composing herself, before turning to me and losing all composure. "I'm so sorry! Heat of the moment and all that, are you ok?" I exaggerated an exhale. "A few inches lower and you would have been talking to a floor-bound puddle of goop." She laughed, kissing me once before getting up off the bed. "I've got a drawing class, but I should be done at er.. oh, where's my phone, what's the time?" "1," I said, picking up her phone and wiggling it at her. "Thanks, I think I should be back at around, uh, 3:30. Sorry, it's a long one today." She ran around the little room, chasing a sock that seemed to evade her grasp, despite being utterly stationary. "You can wait here if you want." "I might go get some clothes, I can't be walking around naked now" I said with a little smirk. "What, and... bring them here?" she asked, flinging the drawers out of her cupboard as she frantically searched for some clean underwear whilst removing her current. "Well, that's what I was thinking, yeah. It's a long walk to Greenford, so I can't be running back and forth, you know? Unless you want to stay in my room which, I should remind you, doesn't have an en-suite." "So.. you'd sort of.. be living here?" she asked, pausing as she pulled up her jeans. "Is that a bad thing?" I asked. "No, no, it's just.. wow, I've never lived with someone before." She beamed at me. "It's hardly living, Fenn, I'm keeping some clothes here." "Shush, don't ruin the moment for me," she said, pausing, eyes wide. "I'll be back soon." She blew a kiss at me, pausing at the mirror on her wall. "Needs something..." she rummaged through the paraphernalia on top her cupboard, plucking out a pair of green, plastic sunglasses and setting them on top of her head. "Cute." "Thanks, I agree," she said with a cute grin 'n wink. She placed her hand on the doorknob, but paused, as if battling with some dilemma in her mind. Turning, she surged toward me with renewed energy and kissed me hard, practically head-butting me in the process. Satisfied with her latest abduction of my saliva, she playfully slapped my cheek a few times, before running out the door. I remained still for a moment, absorbing all that had just happened. Then, letting out a sigh, I turned and lay on my back, fingers locked and behind my head. Awesome.