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Losers Page 9


  She was half-dreaming when she woke up sometime in the middle of the night. It was still totally dark, whatever time it was. In her lingering dream, Brandy was wearing that dress, unbuttoned to the waist, and throwing herself needfully at Chanda. When their breasts touched, it felt like they were being sucked on, and Chanda rubbed hers against her friends as they each let out a moan of pleasure from the sensual friction.

  As Chanda’s hand slipped into the waistband of her panties, she consciously let the dream evolve into a fantasy. The premises remained the same – they were still on the floor of the theater, except it was dark now, and vacant, and smelled richly of pussy and popcorn in equal measure. And Brandy was Eve again, and instead of a bible verse, her thigh was tattooed with a cartoon panda.

  Chanda did, however, decide to make a few tweaks in this more conscious endeavor. For starters, she wanted an audience back.

  The door swung open, and in strode Krystal, as naked as she’d been at Bart’s. She hopped her butt up onto the drinking fountain to watch without saying a word. Her legs spread, and her fingers dove straight into a bare, hungry, drippingly wet pussy as she watched her friends kissing, caressing one another. Chanda imagined away the skirts of Eve’s dress, leaving the unbuttoned bodice, and gently, she slid a finger between the wet velvet folds of her friend’s labia.

  She was so tight. A limp-dicked loser like Ezekiel would never appreciate it, but Chanda did. She moaned the words aloud, and they echoed around her skull alongside images of this clingy, conservative, slutty and beautiful woman who had no shame about being naked in front of her, the sound of Eve telling her to shut up and kiss her, the taste of her mouth, the softness of her skin. Her boobs were so firm . Why didn’t Chanda’s own feel that firm? Eve didn’t seem to mind though. In fact, she couldn’t get enough of them. Her unspoken apology for every homophobic thought she’d ever had was in the hunger in her lips for Chanda’s breasts.

  Why, why hadn’t she taken the opportunity to play with Eve’s boobs tonight?

  But in her fantasy, she knew exactly how they felt, and her friend luxuriated in being touched almost as much as she did in being allowed to explore her new-found passion for the female form. “Why haven’t we done this before? Fuck, Chanda, don’t stop…”

  “Such language,” Chanda replied. Dirty talk she could take or leave, but this time it was important. She’d scripted this part of the fantasy a long time ago, but it still lit a fire in her clit as much as ever. It introduced one of her favorite parts.

  “I don’t care any more!” Eve cried. “I don’t care about the ten commandments or god’s will or anything! God told me not to eat your pussy, so as far as I’m concerned, God can go to hell!”

  Chanda moaned. YES. That was it. That moment when her hot Christian friend forsook her faith for the opportunity to pleasure her. That was so fucking it. She held Eve’s head in place, her fingers doing their best to simulate what Eve’s tongue was doing in her imagination. She was too turned on to even consider going for her vibrator, even though it was right there in the drawer in her night stand. It would take seconds of having her pussy empty that she wasn’t willing to give right then.

  The water fountain turned on suddenly, but instead of water, it splashed Krystal’s naked body with gouts of liquid butter. In an instant, she was coated in the stuff, her skin glistening and slick and smelling as delicious as it looked. She moaned in delight, smearing it in for Chanda’s benefit, then slid to the floor and knelt down behind Eve.

  “What you did to Chanda was very very bad ,” she declared, and that was when she gave Eve’s huge, round ass its first slap. Chanda nodded, gestured for her to continue. “See, she agrees. You’re a bad bitch, Evie, and bad little bitches with bad little bottoms get spanked like the bad little loser brats that they are!”

  Yes. That was good. It helped resolve her need to be angry about it without ruining the fantasy. Yes. Krystal had showed her that spanking was fucking hot , if it was done under the right circumstances. Very good. Eve seemed to agree, if the way her body started trembling excitedly was any judge. She was glad to still feel the judgment and penance of her deserted faith. Glad that her new god, pleasure, was so much more responsive and hands fucking on.

  The only problem was… now she didn’t have an audience.

  Aaron walked around the corner. He didn’t have a thing on other than his jacket. His cock hung limp, but the moment it laid eyes on them – no, not them, her – it grew before her eyes until it was pointing skywards, thick and red. Yes. He wasn’t the best-built guy, so she had him make it up to her by being super hung. He deserved that.

  “Are you OK?” he asked in that same tone.

  Oh god, was she ever. Don’t stop, Eve, you psycho culty loser bitch. Don’t you dare stop. Smack her again, Krystal. Yes. Now do it harder. Now rub her pussy in between so she can be ready for my blessing, but don’t you dare let her come until I do. In fact, make her ask permission first, like the loser she is. Krystal, you don’t get to come at all, not until you come over to my house and let me play you like a fiddle, until I see you naked in my bed and letting me kiss that gorgeous ass of yours to make it allll better. Yes.

  See, Aaron? Look how these losers need it. How they beg for it. Come. Fucking make me come, Eve. Or Krystal. Suck on my tits, Krystal. That’s better. Fuck yes. Now you, Aaron. You get the other one. And Brandy, climb back up and sit on my face so he can put that monster to use where it fucking belongs right inside my fucking pussy and SHIT FUCK THAT’S IT FUCKING GO GO GO FUCK ME and don’t you DARE STOP because you fucking WON me and FUCK FUCK LICK ME SUCK ME RIDE ME FUCK ME

  “Are you all right, sweetie?” came her mother’s voice from outside the door.

  Chanda tried not to breathe too loudly, but it wasn’t easy. She was sweating bullets, and that wasn’t the only thing she was leaking into her sheets. Holy SHIT that had been an orgasm.

  “Sorry mom, just… bad dreams,” she answered. Crap! What noises had she been making?

  “Oh. Want me to get you a glass of water?”

  “No, mom, I think I’m up now, I’ll get it myself.”

  “All right.” A pause. “I love you, Chanda.”

  “Love you too, Mom.”

  Her mom was gone. Chanda waited as long as she could before she opened her drawer and retrieved her vibrator. It wasn’t long. She slipped it inside her, holding it in place with her thighs as she then retrieved her phone.

  Chanda: You up?

  Aaron: Yeah. You?

  Chanda: Yeah.

  Aaron: Can’t sleep?

  Chanda: Don’t wanna.

  Aaron: Yeah. same.

  Chanda: If you really won me, what would you do with me?

  There was a long pause. He was typing, it said. Had she freaked him out? Was he about to tell her he couldn’t go through with it after all?

  Aaron: I’d want to get to know you better first. Because I bet I’d really like most of you, so I’d want to make sure I didn’t change anything I liked. Then I’d help you change any of the stuff about yourself you don’t like, like if you’re insecure about something, or have something you wanted to forget. Or wanted to speak Latin or something I dunno lol

  Chanda: Aaaaaaand?

  Aaron: Aaaaaaand what?

  Chanda: I’m really asking – not judging. I know what all the other assholes would do with me, but you seem nice, so I’m curious what the nice guy winner would be like

  Chanda: But nobody’s * that* nice ;)

  Aaron: I mean it, I don’t want to mess with near perfection

  Aaron: I’m assuming you already really love giving blowjobs, that is

  Chanda laughed as she came. She gave herself a moment to ride out the orgasm, teasing her clit to drag it into a second. That was rare. Aaron was probably shitting himself wondering if she’d thought he was funny or a total creep. But let him stew for a moment.

  Chanda flipped on the lamp next to her bed, set her still-glistening vibrator on the nightstand,
and snapped a picture. Before she could stop to ask herself what the hell she was doing, the picture was sent and received. Had she really just…?! Holy crap, was this how normal girls, girls who weren’t terrified of boys, flirted? After the weirdest weekend of her life, she was way beyond guessing what was normal and what was bizarre any more.

  Aaron: What is that?

  Chanda had to throw her pillow over her face to muffle her giggles.

  Chanda: What does it look like?

  Aaron: Like part of a toy flamingo with no beak or legs or wings…?

  Chanda: Well that’s your homework for the night, Aaron. Figure out what I was doing at 2 AM with a mutilated plastic flamingo lol

  Aaron: On it.

  Aaron: Is it something for your hair?

  Chanda: Good night, ya nerd

  Aaron: Good night, loser.