%%USERNAME%%    %%ACCWORDS%% %%ONOFF%% |
 |
A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "Hacking Hannah Westrick"  You don't know where it comes from, but you are swept over by a hard, thrusting desire to be bold with this girl. Maybe it's the incitement of having her near you, touching you, stroking you. Maybe it's the excitement at sharing this secret and arcane magic with her. Or maybe you're overwhelmed by the temptation to mack on the double of a girl who's always dismissed and belittled you. Probably it's a mix-up of all three. You twist around and put your arms around Stephanie, squeezing her artillery-shell breasts between you as you push your face into hers. She just has time to suck in a quick, surprised breath before your lips find hers. You have no idea what to do next, so you just sort of nibble and bite and suck at them. For a few seconds she is frozen in your arms, and doesn't respond. Your spirit falters and wobbles. Maybe this was a really bad idea, you think with a tremble. Then Stephanie grabs hold and nearly crushes the air from you. Her mouth opens wide, to swallow yours. * * * * * "Let's slow down. Okay, Prescott?" Stephanie mutters after the initial rush has subsided. But still she holds you close, and her breath is hot on your cheek. "Let's—" She swallows noisily. "Let's just go slow. Okay?" You're okay with that. You don't want to force anything. You sure as fuck don't want to embarrass yourself with her. You relax your hold, but she hangs onto you until you drop your arms. Her eyes—those hard, green gems—dance over your face as she studies you. Then she steps back and, without taking her eyes off you, hops backward onto a big conference table. Her lips part as she holds your eye. Ohmygod, your brain gabbles, this is Stephanie Wyatt except it isn't it's another girl but she likes me but she looks and is acting just like Stephanie this is exactly what it would be like if it was me and Stephanie alone down here and she liked me and she wanted me to come onto her this is exactly like me and Stephanie getting it on! You shuffle forward, and Stephanie spreads her legs to accept you between them. She wraps her arms loosely about your waist and tugs you toward her. Her expression is taut but expectant. Your chest heaves, and you can't catch your breath as you lean in to nuzzle at the side of her neck. She puts her nose into your hair. You slide a hand up inside the back of her shirt and stroke the smooth, firm skin over her spine. She pants and swallows. Working in this very slow way you touch and kiss and suck each other all over, feeling inside of each other's clothes without taking them off. Stephanie lets you stroke her breasts through her shirt—they are firm and full—and groans as you gently squeeze them. She wraps her strong legs around your waist and pulls you toward her, and she writhes and squirms, as though seeking to kiss you with her pussy. You wind up in a hard, tight embrace, squeezing all the air from each other until you are dizzy, and spots swarm in front of your eyes. Then she pushes you back. Sweat glistens on her brow and upper lip. "I don't think I can go all the way, Will," she pants. "That's okay," you croak, though your cock is pinched and throbbing. "I don't want to—" "Stephanie— Stephanie's never done it with a guy before." What about a girl? you can't help wondering. Aloud you say, "Me neither. I mean, I've never, um—" Your traitorous brain, though, reminds you of church camp a year or two back, when you got half of a blow job. Well, that was close enough to not count, you sweatily assure yourself. "It wouldn't be right," Stephanie says. "I understand." "Do you like Stephanie?" Thank God she asked that question! It kills your boner right as you are starting to seriously worry you're going to cream yourself. You draw back so you can look her in the face. "I like you, Katy," you have the presence of mind to reply. "But Stephanie—" "Stephanie's okay," you mumble. "I don't think she likes me, though." You shrug. "So—" She grabs you by the shoulders, and her eyes glitter as she studies you. You can't help cringing, just a little, for they are the eyes of Stephanie Wyatt. She grips you tightly as her eyes rove over your face, then she raises her hands to clasp your face between her palms. She flips your ball cap off and brushes her fingers through your hair. Her scrutiny never softens. Then with a sigh, she sags. Her eyes drop to her lap. "I'm sorry, Will," she says. "Stephanie—" She trails off. "I know. All the way back to elementary school she—" She hooks a foot around your hip, and pulls you close. She's got that look on her face again: that hungry, questing, curious look. "I could eat you all up, though," she says, and pushes herself inside your mouth again. * * * * * That night, as you lie on your bed: What the fuck? you think. Like, what the fuck? She was like that all afternoon, until she finally scampered off in something like a panic. She was Stephanie, and she was hot for you, she groaned for you, she finally tore off her shirt and unclasped her bra and—panting and swallowing thirstily—she let you suck at the enormous teat of her enormous breast. She was Stephanie, and she snapped impatiently at you when she'd had enough of the nipple action, pushing you back and showing her teeth as she got dressed again. She paced the basement and snorted and told you it wasn't your fault but it was wrong and it would be wrong even if you were right for Stephanie. She was Katy but with Stephanie's face, and she turned limp and embarrassed and told you not to look at her because she didn't know what she was doing and it wasn't fair to you but it wasn't fair to anybody and she started to sniffle and sob. And finally she was Stephanie again, and she was mad and she wouldn't look at you and she told you that she had to go because she had a lot of thinking to do. And she stalked off, leaving you feeling like you'd been hauled up at the end of a rope and battered until you were bruised and dizzy. Those masks are a pretty powerful thing, you reflect. Especially when you put a really overpowering personality inside one. It's getting late and you're thinking of going to bed when you get a text from Katy. You wince when you see it. Shit, why didn't I text her before? Now she probably thinks I'm stupid and selfish. She says: I'm sorry abt this afternoon. Its ok, you reply, i'm sorry too. Then you add, Do u want to call n talk? No, she says, getting late. It was all ok with me, you assure her. It was lot of stress but great w u. I should of handed it better. After a long pause, during which you agonize over how to reply, she says, I had fun but got stress too lol. Cu tmrw lunch? You try not to read too much into what sounds like the very tepid Ok that she sends back. * * * * * "I'm having lunch with Meghan," Caleb tells you in first period the next day. His tone is very casual, but he is squinting at the front of the classroom instead of looking at you. "That's fine, I'm having lunch with Katy." You don't elaborate further. Neither does Caleb. Not until he says, "I wonder who Keith is having lunch with." He probably means it as a joke. But you don't laugh and neither does he. Or maybe he was obliquely trying to warn you to tell Keith that you and he were going to be busy with girls at lunch, so that he should make plans of his own. But you don't say anything to Keith when you see him next period, so there's an awkward scene outside your English classroom after fourth, when Keith saunters up, looking to hang out with you guys, and you each have to tell him you're taking off with someone else. He turns very red and stomps off. Caleb gives you a reproachful look, but you ignore him to go in search of Katy. She's hanging out alone by the Agricultural Annex, and her smile is small and pale when she sees you. "God, it was weird being with Stephanie in class," she says in a very small whisper. "She was mad because I skipped practice yesterday, and then all through class I couldn't help thinking about—" She shivers. "What she doesn't know won't hurt her," you reply. Inwardly you wince. It doesn't seem like a very diplomatic thing to have said. And your words leave Katy making a face. So you add, "Anyway, what happened yesterday was because you want to help her out." But that doesn't explain what you and she did in the basement afterward, and maybe that's what she's thinking of, for she remains grave. After you've found a quiet, distant place to eat together, Katy says, "I was going to go shopping again today after school. If you want to go along." "Sure. If you want me to." "Well, I was going to look for stuff to go with— Hannah." She mouths the name. Oh, you think. For the disguise. "Then maybe we could go hang out in the basement again?" Katy suggests. "Only it would be you and ... Hannah?" Again she mouths the name. When you don't answer immediately, she adds, "She's a slut, you know." That gets a rise out of you. Next: "Shopping for a New Face" |
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
