Sinder Experimentation By Jane Devreaux Chapter and Giveaway

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8 — Josh

I haven’t opened my eyes yet, but I already know that this day’s gonna be hell. My mouth is furry, I have a hammer in my head and my limbs are too heavy to be moved effortlessly. The sun is pleasantly heating my back and I tell myself that I could as well stay in bed.

The sun? It gets to my room only in late afternoon. I can’t have slept all day?

I jump up and an excruciating pain pounds in my nape making me stumble to find my balance. I hesitate before opening my eyes again. Light reflects on every surface, painfully blinding me. I could use sunglasses. This room wants me dead!

After a moment of hesitation, I decide to sit back. The bed is so low that I almost collapse. I massage my temples to try and motivate myself. I’ll have to check where I am eventually. I slowly open an eye with a grimace.

Crap, Boby’s room!

It means I didn’t get back home. My mother’s going to kill me! I feel my clothes looking for my cell phone. I run into it in one of my jeans’ back pockets. Two voicemails. I shudder thinking about my mother’s rage.

I’m almost relieved when I discover that both are from Marcy.

Marcy?

Was she with me? Did I take her home?

I wouldn’t bet on that. She frowns every time I drink a glass too many, so if I had taken her home, I’d remember it. Her messages must be hysterical. I’ll listen to them later. My head is in no shape to listen to her high pitched screams.

I stagger to the door trying to figure out when I’ve lost it. I remember Elsa and Leo on the pool table, Marcy’s lecturing and Steve’s sarcasms and then it gets blurry. I must have gone too hard on the whiskey!

Laughs come out of the kitchen. The living room is still in complete mess. The floor is sticky and the room smells of puke. There are empty plastic cups everywhere, the coffee table has disappeared and a bar stool has ended up on the couch. Chips are mixed with puke in an aquarium that has been fish free for a long time. Steve and Boby are filling up trash bags laughing. “Still alive?” Boby mocks me as he sees me on the doorstep.

“Not for long, my mother’s gonna kill me.” I answer.

“We took care of your mother! I would be more worried about Marcy if I was you.”

Steve’s an idiot but I can count on him to hoodwink my parents. I never got how my mother could be eating out of his hand this way. She gets conned like all the others when Steve’s concerned. I wish I could have his talent.

“Who drove Marcy home?” I finally ask, trying to pick up a crushed cup lying at my feet.

I know I should be worried. I’ve never gotten myself into such a state and Marcy must have hated it. I don’t know why, but I don’t care. Maybe I’ve done it at last and therefore feel lighter. But it’s a little frustrating not to remember it. I try and put some order in my head when Steve brings me out of my thoughts:

“…So, Sarah Miller?”

Good God, Sarah Miller!

I found a way to chose even worse than the rebel. I feel sick just imagining her junkie’s breath and her little weasel eyes coming out of their orbits. And her ass! This girl looks like an Orangina bottle because of her monumental ass. I don’t know if I want to remember, but suddenly the images come back on their own. Her big tongue tickling the back of my throat, my hands kneading her huge buttocks as if I was making bread. My God! No, no!

Actually I would rather not know. And then I remember the way she pushed me away and the horrible noise coming out of the bathroom. I didn’t do it? I didn’t do it! Shoot, I didn’t do it.

Surprisingly, I’m relieved even though I’m still a shabby virgin who thinks only about it.

The afternoon drags on with an unbearable slowness. I feel like somebody is having fun messing up behind us and to top it all, Steve and Boby’s laughs are grinding my head. I’m not even talking about the mop chore. I would like a hot shower and more than anything, my bed, but I prefer to wait a little more, to make sure I won’t run into my mother.

Eventually, when I get back home, I’m alone there. My parents have left me a note on the fridge We are paying a visit to the Donnell’s. There is a meal for you in the microwave if you are hungry. I should have known, they’re always stuck at the Donnell’s or them at ours. Philip is my father’s best friend since they were kids and when I was a toddler, he spent several months with us. From what I know, he was depressed because of a relation he’d had with a married woman. Like you care! Well, since then, they have been inseparable.

I take out the plate, beans/chicken/French fries. I’m sure it’s delicious, my mother is a very good cook, but I’m not sure my stomach will accept anything after what I put it through. I avoid smelling the sickening smell of food and take the plate to the garden and dump it in the hedge. I know my mother will have doubts if she sees I haven’t eaten and the neighborhood cats should appreciate the present.

After a nice shower, I collapse on my bed and when my alarm goes off I feel like I haven’t slept. My headache’s almost gone, but I could use a few more hours of sleep. I cut short my mother’s questioning about my depraved weekend. She doesn’t suspect anything and I’d rather it stayed this way. And I still haven’t given up on my deflowering and don’t want another lecture.

As I get to school, I find Marcy waiting for me on the parking lot. She’s opted for one of those gorgeous flimsy dresses that reveal just enough of her curves to die for. She’s gotten out of my head, but as I see her, irresistible as always, I wonder how such a thing could have happened. I want to feel her against my body, to snuggle up to her neck and kiss every visible inch of her skin. She’s perfect. Her hair is forbiddingly soft, her just enough soft lips, and her gorgeous…

Her eyes are glaring at me! Crap, crap, I haven’t even listened to her voicemails and as I see the face she makes, I’d bet they were pretty coarse. Without thinking, I jump out of my ride and fall to her neck. If I want to avoid the storm, I need to step my game up. “Honey! How I’ve missed you! I’m lost without you. I really messed up, I don’t know what got into me. Please, forgive me. It will never happen again. I’ve been sick as hell. I was in too much a bad shape to call you back, but I never stopped thinking about you, I felt really bad about it. Really!”

I pull my face away from her torrid body to check the effect of my tirade. I hope it works! I hope it works. Her eyes have regained some softness, but her perfect features are still emotionless. Her head is slightly tilted to the side which means she’s thinking. It’s not yet a victory but I’ve avoided the worst.

“You’ve really disappointed me. I’ve spent a horrible weekend, thinking the worst things and if it was to happen again I swear I’d have to seriously reconsider our relationship.”

Marcy has this surreal ability to say terrible things with an incredible softness. It’s a warning, but considering the number of times she’s almost seriously reconsidered our relationship, I really don’t have much to fear. Everything’s alright, it was almost too easy.

“Baby, you know how much I love you, I’d never hurt you deliberately.”

I have a terrible urge to let my hands wander under her skirt and my tongue slip in her mouth, but it’s not the time to rave, not after what I did to her on Saturday.

That’s when Steve arrives in his huge ATV and his loud music. Lucy and her friend Deborah get out of it giggling and Marcy joins them and gives me a stop messing around look.

“Don’t worry bro! Girls are unable to detect this kind of things.” Steve reassures me giving me a slap on the back.

Steve thinks that I took the plunge with the fat Sarah. Just thinking about it makes me sick, but I prefer him to believe so. Maybe he’ll leave me alone?

One can always dream.

“When will you start telling?” He insists.

“No way!” I answer.

“I bet you don’t remember any of it?”

“Some details I’d rather not remember.” I groan, chasing the disgusting images of her huge tongue in the back of my throat.

“No wonder!” Steve says, sniggering while ogling my girlfriend’s bottom.

This guy is the biggest sex maniac I know. It sucks, but if this guy is my friend, it’s partly because he makes me feel more normal.

I can’t help it either to ogle her nice little butt and again, I have a terrible urge to launch another attack up to her panties. Maybe after classes? I really wished this idea could help me survive this day. I’m not in the best of shapes and the hours are going by with an unbearable slowness.

I’m not even talking about the two hours of basketball, with this big hefty idiot who spends his time yelling like a moron. Seriously, this is called a teacher? A torture.

I have trouble catching the balls, the basket seems higher than usual and to top it all, the rebel plays right beside me. She always ends up on the bench. Her teacher can’t stand her brutal contacts and her lack of collaboration. I’m sure she does it on purpose to scare the newbies.

Suddenly I feel like she’s observing me and my hand misses the ball as my knees collide. I collapse like a crippled idiot and I’m sure she’s laughing behind my back.

“Oh God! Anderson, what is up with you today?” The teacher screams at me, but I’m not listening.

I’m looking at this freak staring at me mockingly. This girl shouldn’t be unsettling me. She’s an embittered antisocial bitch. And then I realize that we’re supposed to meet this evening and the bit of courage I have left vanishes in the air. It’s really a crappy day!

I try to think of a ploy to cancel, but I know I won’t be able to avoid it indefinitely. I need to raise my grades and I was kind of counting on this.

I’m still searching for excuses as I get to her house. I wish Marcy would have held me back, had come up with any reason to keep me with her. She did all the opposite. She told me she’s thinking about my studies but I have the feeling she’s trying to keep me away. She’s a testosterone radar, every time my level goes up, she disappears. Right now, it never stops, yet I really didn’t have this in mind today, but I feel like my penis has taken over all control. And it has been getting worse and worse since the conversation with that nutcase.

I’m about to knock when I remember Sandre’s words: “Your balls are on fire and you can’t think straight anymore.” I can’t set foot into this damn house again. I’m stupid, but not that much.

I’m about to run away when the door opens on its own. There’s a stranger on the other side. She’s wearing a tank top and black leggings as if she was about to exercise. She’s slim and her long brown hair, that looks incredibly soft, surrounds her gorgeous figure. Her dark irises observe me amused and her full lips draw a strange smile. Her features are of astounding delicacy, almost childlike. Sandre has a sister?

“Do you intend to come in some time?” She asks mockingly.

The sound of her voice startles me. She’s not a stranger, she’s the rebel. I realize that up until now I only noticed her big killer’s eyes; without makeup she’s just not the same.

That idiot could almost be beautiful!

I’m still frozen on the same spot when she pushes me onto the stairs leading up and slams the door behind me. She’s taking me to her room? I suspect she wants to avoid having to introduce me to her parents but the house is unbelievably silent.

She leads me to a small, surprisingly empty and white room; there’s nothing except a bed and a large mirror. This purified style, the same as on the ground floor, is not like her. There’s something really off about this house.

“Is this your room?” I ask, still wondering what I’m doing here.

“Posters aren’t my thing.” She simply comments.

I observe her confused. Her, who’s not really her anymore without her smoky killer’s eyes and this room not reflecting any rebellion. I would like to know what the hell I’m doing here, but the many emotions showing on her face are unreadable.

Are we going to work here? She doesn’t even have a desk. I lend an ear searching for some noise when she violently pushes me onto the bed. I collapse like an idiot, motionless. I’m sure I’m going to get it again and I’ll regret coming here, but I don’t say a word. This girl paralyzes me. She really has something that freaks me out. A wicked smile is lifting her cheekbones. She could almost be beautiful with this weird, kinky expression. Her hands slide down her leggings and slowly, the fabric falls down her thighs and silently crashes to the floor. She finishes removing it with her feet taking off her socks on the way too.

“You’re crazy! What’s up with you?” I hear myself say, offended, while I can’t stop my eyes from running along her long thin legs and her small round ass.

“You want me to stop?” She asks when her fingers have already revealed an ultra thin waist.

I’m going to see her breasts! I can’t just tell her to stop now. I don’t believe this, is there a trap? Is she going to film it all? I look around the room. There’s nowhere to hide a camera. No, she has nothing to gain from this, in this kind of stories it’s always the girl who looks like a slut. But why would she do this for me? Maybe she too has hormone issues? No it can’t be!

She’s unhooked her bra and her breasts are to die for. Amazing! Just the right size.

“Can I touch?” I ask in spite of myself already approaching her.

She smiles at me and suddenly I find her incredibly beautiful. I’m sure even Marcy isn’t this hot. Damn it, it’s my hormones talking again!

Her breasts are soft and firm, just right. Her skin is of incomparable softness, so perfect, that I want to taste it. I bury my face in her neck and slide my lips down to her breasts. The feeling is exquisite and the pulsation in her chest motivates me to go on. She puts her hands under my sweatshirt and without thinking I take it off to make it easier for her. I’ve never been touched this way and I’d never have imagined it would have this effect on me. I already have a hard on. The touch of her naked skin against mine is to die for. It’s crazy!

I suddenly realize we might not want the same thing, that I might be putting myself into a fucking mess. I pull away slowly. I don’t want to upset her. I’m not going to take a chance at messing up a totally unlikely physical relationship.

“Maybe we should reach an agreement first?” I mumble, more than embarrassed.

She lifts up her head to plunge her big dark eyes into mine. She’s so much less impressive without makeup and so much more beautiful.

“You want rules?” She makes fun of me, sliding her finger behind the belt on my jeans. “Like what? Who brings the rubbers? You want to choose the position? You want to keep your socks on?... You want to make sure it’s only about sex, don’t you?”

Here, she’s said it. In other circumstances, I would have found her exasperating, but here I have to admit that her honesty is appreciated.

“That’s it!” I say, already regretting that I opened my mouth.

Crap, she’s almost naked against me, I’ll soon be inside her and I take a chance at messing it up.

What an idiot!

“Do you really think I’m that stupid and could think there might be something else?”

Now she has said this, it seems so logical. She’s probably not even interested in me. How could I be her type of guy? She only wants sex. It’s stupid, but a girl who only wants sex, it still seems weird. And like an echo to my thoughts she adds:

“No feelings, no strings attached, only sex.”

It sucks but I’m relieved. Josh, enjoy and stop cogitating.

I plunge back to her neck, feast on her breasts. My hands wander down to the small of her back, to her hips and between her legs. I brush against her femininity through the lace of her panties.

My God, I’m gonna do it!

Her expert fingers outline the curves of my body, awakening all my senses. Holly cow, she knows her stuff! Her hands brush against my lower stomach and her warm breath caresses my agitated chest. As she skillfully unbuttons my jeans I wonder if Marcy would be this good at it.

Marcy! Why am I thinking about her? What an idiot! And suddenly, as if it could change anything about my betrayal, I add:

“No kissing on the lips.”

Obviously, I really want to mess this up. She must think I’m the worst of virgins. Most guys would have already gotten to the serious stuff and I look doubtful like an idiot.

I want her right now. I can’t take it anymore. Without waiting for her answer I grab her by the thighs and push her sex against mine. She wraps her legs around me and I know we want the same thing.

Her heart is beating like crazy in her chest as I taste her breasts on the way to the bed.

I gently put her down on the quilt. She’s not Sandre anymore, she’s not that bitter stuck up klutz anymore, she’s just a gorgeous girl giving me the most beautiful of presents. I’m consumed by desire and at this moment she could ask me for anything. I lie down on her letting my hands slide up her beautiful little ass. The warmth of her body, the touch of her skin are the most exquisite of all pleasures.

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