Author Notes
This chapter continues Millie's experiences in high school with an erotic moment between our protagonist and a friend. If you did not read the first two chapters, you may want to so you understand the storyline. But if not, this chapter stands on its own as a lesbian sex romp. Constructive feedback is always appreciated.
nofaceinthemirror
Chapter 3
At school, I nervously searched for Rose, not knowing what to tell her, but knowing I had to see her. Frequently thinking about her stunning hair, sweet face and sexy smile, my mind was a frenetic mess, and I had trouble focusing. Oddly enough, I even remembered her pimples, and grinned about our word play of the day before. Rose, my Watson, my Guinevere, my Cheesecakes, that young woman had my brain on overdrive. I'd never felt like that about anyone, much less a female. Now I had more than my fair share of fantasies about girls, I'm not proud to say, but not like the ones about her. Rose was different. When I saw her in the quad, my pulse increased and my heart quickened. That beauty was like the lovely smell of a rainy autumn morning cleansing everything, and that rain made me wet in the sweetest of ways. For a few hours, I forgot all about my screwed up life.
She saw me, waved and came over. "How's Sherlock today?"
"Trying to solve Watson's problems."
"So, what's that bumbling Doctor's problem today?" she asked, smiling happily.
"Me thinks the Doctor needs a dirty poem."
"Oh, do tell the good Doctor."
"How bout a poem about good old shit fer brains?"
"Holmes is a poet? And can poeticize about shit and brains?"
"Holmes has many skills that Watson has yet to learn."
"Well, in that case, learn me my good man."
I thought, letting my little dirty mind wonder for a few minutes and conjured up a couple of lines that I hoped would make her laugh.
"Ahem," I started putting on a gallant show. "Please hold all applause until after the presentation."
"Oh yessir masser Sherlocks, I be more an just kind to yous and yourin poeticizin."
"Hey," I told her, "I'm sposed to be the funny one here!"
She bowed and did a fake curtsy, "Yessir masser."
"Ahem," I said again and looked at her daring her to speak. She smiled with a sly sexy grin. I smile back at her; she was so beautiful when she looked like that. She was always beautiful, and I felt honored to be in her company. I paused, swallowed, then started.
"Watson is a friend of mine with a funky little ass so fine, Upon one bitty silly day she kicked the ass of John the Gay,
'Fuck you Johnny you fag to be, go suck a Puppet and be happy.' Johnny looked quite corrupted, then went and sucked the dick of Puppet.
Watson called out in total glee, 'Johnny such a queer is he!' Smile she did that happy day that John the shit was fucking gay."
When she laughed, I wanted to take her in my arms and kiss her, and the next day, I did a lot more than kiss her.
*******
The rest of the day proved difficult as I reflected on my fantasies about Rose and crisis of the morning. Physical Education provided no relief, because the sight of all the girls in their skimpy shorts and tight T-shirts generated such an unnatural stimulation to my mind that I couldn't concentrate. A decent athlete, I excelled at track and volleyball, but I uselessly hindered my team today, missing volley, serve and eventually costing us the game. Trisha, the senior that dripped sex and seduction noticed.
My eyes focused on the divine way she manipulated her body in awkward positions with that superb athletic prowess she possessed. She was a powerful girl, outweighing me by at least twenty pounds with muscular hips, thighs and calves. On a particular tough shot, she ran into me and knocked me to the ground.
"Sorry," she said, "you okay, I get carried away with the game."
"Yeah, guess I'm sorta distracted today."
"Noticed, you're costing us the game."
"Just not into it."
"You're usually the second-best girl on the team, after me of course," she said rolling her eyes and reaching her hand out to help me up. "Call me Miss Modesty."
I chuckled, "You are pretty fuckin' good."
"It's in the boobies baby, in the boobies."
The girl was always a great kidder and hot to boot; we ended up laughing in a playful hug as the thirty-something instructor blew her whistle and yelled, "Two laps then hit the showers girls."
Trisha took off while yelling back to me, "I'm gonna kick your ass in this race."
Being a little embarrassed about my questionable athletic prowess, I took off after her. Surprised at the quickness in which I caught up, Trisha snarled at me in a fake expression and said between breaths, "Hey, this is my race, slow down. I gotta rep to protect."
I increased my pace and left her in my tracks.