Wes sits across from me, wearing a thick gray t-shirt. His sultry, serious expression is a far cry from what it had been only eight hours ago: a silent moan. I still can't believe it. Wes, the worst person I know, is pierced, shaved, and *caged*. And, somehow even weirder, he's sitting with me at the dinner table eating Ms. Simmons' sesame tofu. He wouldn't have been caught dead here only a month ago.
"Nice dinner," he says. His eyes glaze over me and land on some corner of the room. I held his cock in my hand, and the motherfucker can't even make eye contact with me. Not that I'm helping. We've been sitting for twenty minutes without a string of words longer than "do you need the salt?"
"Thank Ms. Simmons," I say, "not me "
I saw his shoulders tense up at the mention of her name.
"Wes," I say, leaning forward, "where were you the past ten days?"
He puts his fork down and taps his foot a few times. "It's a long story," he says.
"Long stories have beginnings too."
He breathed out and played with his fork for a minute, following the edge of his plate. It makes a dull ringing sound. "I met Ms. Simmons on my way to school." He's quiet after, as if that explains everything. He switches gears and starts playing with the tablecloth. It's a near-see through white.
"And?"
"And... well, she told me everything you told her. She told me that she knew I had--a crush on her." Wes purses his lips. He's got these big, pillowy lips that are topped with a natural cupid's bow. Ive thought about splitting those lips with a punch numerous times. I still feel this blind rage when I look at him, although now it's mixed with... something else. Something even more animal.
God, I'm horny.
I had had to make it through four more classes, lunch, and a whole ride home while still never having release from this morning. Wes passed me in the halls multiple times, pulling his backpack tighter and turning red. I even think I could see his piercings through his shirt if I looked closely.
I want to see more. I need to see more.
"I didn't tell her you have a crush. I told her all the disgusting things tou said about her," I say.
Wes scratches his arm and still doesn't meet my eyes.
"Wes," I say.
He looks at me. His eyes have that same teary look as he did in the locker room. Is he going to cry? Part of me hopes so.
"I gotta know. What happened?"
Wes takes in a breath. "She took me to a hotel," he says.
"A hotel," I say. "You're saying she brought you to a Holiday Inn?"
"No," Wes says. I can tell he wants to look away from me, but he doesn't. "It was... different. She got this room for ten days. It had more stuff in there."
I'm starting to guess what's going on, but I want to hear him say it. "What happened in that room, Wes?"
"As if I'd be telling you..." Wes sneers. He trails off as he hears himself.
I bite my tongue. I need to be more commanding with him if I want to make progress. "You will be," I say.
An awkward silence follows. "Sorry... again," Wes says.
"That's a lot less involved than your last sorry."
He turns red again when I say that. I hadn't expected Wes to be embarrassed so readily. He mutters something.
"What was that?" I ask.
"Sorry... sir," he said.
There it was again: "sir." What the hell had happened? I pause. "So did you have sex with Ms. Simmons?"
"No!" Wes exclaimed. "I mean--not really. She said she wanted to, but... she wanted to make sure I... repented."
"Hail Marys?"
"Not exactly," Wes said.
I lean back and cross my arms. "Everything has been 'not really, kind of, not exactly,' and whatever else. Just tell me *what happened*."
"She put me in... this thing," Wes says.
Now I'm annoyed. "You're in chastity. Just say it."
He blushes. "My... my dick is in chastity."
"Thank you."
