You shake your head, then move to your bag. You pause for a moment when you don't find them in there, but— oh. Now you remember. You'd taken all your textbooks out of your bag and placed them in your bookshelf when you'd needed more books to fill the spaces in your bookshelf.
You grab your Chemistry book from the shelf it's on— filed under T for Trudgett, the last name of the author— and place it on the book, then go back to the bookshelf and begin pulling out all your other textbooks from on there. You grumble a little as you do it— it's inconvenient, but your bookshelf is so neat with them on there— but it's over with in a couple of minutes.
Then you sit down in your chair and actually go over your Chemistry work for a bit. And, yeah, you were right in your first impression of it. The questions aren't complicated; they're just involved, time-consuming. You imagine that if someone had to actually sit down and read through the textbook to answer the questions, it might actually be hard. Score one for reading ahead.
You go through and organise yourself for the study session ahead, grabbing a piece of paper and tearing chunks of it away to bookmark sections in the textbook relevant to the assessment. It's a bit hodgepodge, but there's not much else you can do without post-its, and given you only borrowed this textbook from the school library, you're not going to risk tearing the page with shoddy post-it notes.
When you're just about done, you hear a loud knock on the door. Quickly, you scramble to your feet and rush out, just managing to beat Dad to the door. You swing it open to find Sophia standing there holding a duffel bag. She's wearing her track uniform and her customary scowl.
"Hey, Sophia," you say. You don't smile. There's something inexplicably weird about Sophia standing on your front porch.
She grunts. "Hey, H— Taylor," she amends, noting your Dad's presence behind you. "Can I come in?" You're surprised for a moment, as you'd assumed she'd just barge in, but— right. Your deal with her; you're in control while you're at your house. Okay. Good to see she remembers. Apparently better than you did.
"Yeah." You hold out your hand, and she automatically reaches out and takes it. The two of you stare down at your entwined hands for a second, before you look away, your cheeks reddening a little. "Come on, I'll show you to my room. Have you had anything to eat?" You try to pull her in, but she resists for a moment.
"Hold on a second," she says. You can't quite identify her tone— she sounds a little breathy, but maybe a little annoyed. She steps past you, coming to a stop in front of your Dad. "Hi. I'm Sophia." She extends her free hand out to him, and he takes it with a little stunned look on his face as he looks at your entwined hands. Then his face splits into a silly grin, and you roll your eyes. Great. What kind of weird thoughts is he having now?
"Danny," he introduces himself in turn, shaking her hand. "Okay, Taylor, there's food in the fridge. If you need anything, you know where I am."
"Yeah," you reply. Then finally, mercifully, you're able to pull Sophia away and towards your room, where you tug her over to your desk and let out a long sigh. "Geez," you mutter. "Okay, do you want something to eat before we start?"
She shrugs, then lifts her duffel bag off her shoulders and looks at you questioningly. You gesture beside your desk, where there's enough empty space for her to drop it. She does so, then sits on the edge of your bed and raises a questioning eyebrow at you. You— metaphorically— drool a little.
Your throat is suddenly dry. Sophia smirks at you, as though she knows exactly where your thoughts have gone, but rather disappointingly she doesn't even try to tease you.
"Um." You cough lightly, and her smirk grows bigger. "Right. Um. This Chemistry assignment. I know we're both going to be pretty busy— actually, I have to cut things short tomorrow so I..." You trail off. Okay, look, nobody could blame you. If they had a Sophia reclining on their bed, they'd probably have trouble trying to focus on their schoolwork, too. But they don't. Nobody else can have a Sophia. She's yours. "... Um, I bookmarked the sections of the textbook that have the information we're after. Hopefully we should be able to do it in the time we have left. But, um, I'm going to be working later tomorrow, I hope, so I might not be available for as long. I'll loan you my textbook-"
"Won't you need it?" she interrupts, then shakes her head. "Wait, sorry. Forgot I shouldn't be interrupting."
It's so tempting to give her a pat on the head. "No, it'll be fine. I already know most of this stuff, so I shouldn't need anyone the textbook to answer the questions."
She lifts an eyebrow. "You already have the answers, huh? You should help me write mine then," she jokes.
You consider it for a moment. "I dunno," you say doubtfully. She opens her mouth, but shuts it again, looking annoyed. "I mean, I could, but then I'd have to spend time over the weekend doing my answers, and I have stuff I need to do over the weekend. That doesn't seem like a very good deal for me."
She rolls her eyes. "It was just a joke," she says. "Don't worry about it."
But you just shake your head. "No, it's, hm." You look at her consideringly. It's probably a bad idea, such a bad idea, but— you really need to get some relief soon. You can't believe you're actually seriously considering doing this. "We could make a deal," your traitorous mouth says.
Sophia gives you a look. "A deal?" she asks.
You nod, silently cursing yourself. "I don't mind spending some time over the weekend doing my assignment, but I'll be losing some sleep to do it," you tell her. No need to tell her that you'll be losing that sleep anyway, you think. This weekend is probably going to be a busy one. "So I'll help you now, but only if you make it worth my while."
For a moment, she pauses. Then she chuckles. Actually chuckles. "Well, well, Hebert," she says with a wide grin. "Never thought you'd be that bold. Alright, I'll tell you what. Tell me what you want, and I'll consider it."
Huh. Honestly, you'd kind of expected to be slapped for that one. Sophia is weird.
"I want..." You consider it for a moment. "I want— I want a kiss," you declare. "No— no wait. Two kisses." She doesn't look angry. Maybe you can push it a bit further. "No, uh, more— five. Five... ten. Ten minutes of kissing. Per day I spend helping." She waits, so you push on. "A— and I want you to take off your shirt," you finish in a rush, stumbling over your words. "Um, not your bra. Unless you want to. I'd be happy with that. But you don't have to. For— for the whole session. Every session."
She considers it. She actually does. You can see her thinking it over.
"And if I let you do that, you'll help me?" she checks. "And I don't mean just getting the answers here, Hebert. I want you to help me get them good. I need good results here. A plus, not a B, not even an A. An A plus. And you have to get the same, this is a group project."
You think about it. You really do. This weekend is going to be a busy one, but— you're pretty sure you can manage. And if not, you can always just skip sleeping on Sunday. You'll be half-dead come Monday, but you can do it.
"Yeah." You nod determinedly. "I can do that."
She lifts an eyebrow, but she doesn't even seem angry. "You're a bit of a perv," she notes. "You know that?" But despite her words, she doesn't seem even a little hesitant when she pulls off her shirt, revealing her bra beneath it. You'd expected her to be wearing a disappointingly covering sports bra, but she's actually wearing a delightfully revealing little white number, decorated with frills of lace. The pale material contrasts deliciously with her dark skin. You're tempted to lean down and lick around the bra to see if she tastes like chocolate. You refrain, though. You want this to happen again, and pushing her like that is an excellent way to ensure you can't.
She crawls up your bed, arranging your two pillows so that she can lay on your bed comfortably and still raise her chest high enough for you to have a good view of her bra.
"Alright," she says. Despite the words coming out of her mouth, even you can hear the undercurrent of arousal in them. "Come on, then. Let's get this over with."
You stumble over to the bed, then stalk forward on all fours until you find yourself leaning over her. You can't resist raising one hand to brush at her bra for a moment. She watches your hand closely, but doesn't try to push it away. In fact, she just closes her eyes as you brush your thumb over the bumps in her bra where her nipples are straining against the material.
You keep your hand there, balancing yourself on only your left hand as you lean down and kiss her hungrily. Her mouth opens as your lips touch hers, and you waste no time in meeting her tongue with yours. Even your eyes flutter closed for a moment as the two of you kiss.
You don't know what her skin tastes like, but her mouth tastes like chocolate. There's a flare of jealousy in your stomach for a moment— who's been trying to seduce your Sophia with treats?— but you fight it down like the absurd thought it is and just focus on the all-too-thrilling sensation of Sophia gasping against your lips as you suck on her tongue. Her hands wrap, almost unconsciously, around your waist, holding you against her. In turn, you stop holding yourself up so high, and press your arm down over hers, forcibly preventing her from moving it. She loses it for a moment, then— if you were more inexperienced, you might have mistaken the pleased shudder that runs through her as a mini-orgasm. Even now, you're not sure it's far off. You've felt Madison make that little shudder too many times to mistake it for an actual mini-orgasm, though.
She tries to retaliate for that once she regains her senses a little, but you don't let her. You squeeze her nipple through her bra, drawing a low moan, which you take advantage of to swirl your tongue around her own. She tries to fight it for a few minutes, tries to press back and regain some control over the kiss, but you don't let her. You just lean further down over her, allowing your weight to gently press her down into your bed, and continue to dominate the kiss. Her resistance grows weaker as you dart in again and again, exploring every inch of her mouth and claiming it— claiming her— as yours.
Eventually, she's no longer even pretending to fight it. Every time you draw away to take a breath, her breathing is more ragged. She occasionally makes weak attempts to slip her tongue into your own mouth, but she yields easily when you just lick and suck at it.
By the time you draw away from her, a good eighteen minutes after the kiss started, you're barely able to keep yourself from just dry-humping her thigh until you come. By the weak jerking of her hips, she's trying to fight the same desire.
You roll over, your body trembling slightly as you lay on the edge of the bed beside Sophia. "Jesus," is all you manage to whisper. She nods shakily.
Maybe it's a good thing she didn't take her bra off, you think dreamily. If you'd been too focused on her breasts, you wouldn't have been able to do that to her. Of course, then you'd have been able to tug at her nipples as you held her down... Mm. Another time, maybe.
The two of you lay there, trying to recover, for another ten minutes before Sophia draws herself up, body still trembling slightly. "Alright," she says hoarsely. "You had your fun, Hebert. Now hold up your end of the deal."
You do, of course, although it takes a bit longer than you'd expected. Maybe you should have kept yourself under control a bit better— haha, nah. Sophia doesn't seem to be in too much of a hurry to return home, and you're fine with the thought of skipping studying for one night, so it doesn't bother you too much that Sophia stays at your house until well after ten. Besides, she holds up her end of the bargain and doesn't put her shirt back on, allowing you to perv at her bra all you want. Why would you complain?
When the time hits ten thirty and she starts tugging her shirt on, you do impishly lean forwards and steal another quick kiss from her. She freezes, which causes you to smile a bit; then she scowls and throws a pillow at you. You're pretty sure that breaks the terms of your agreement a bit, but you're fine with that. She didn't agree to have you kiss her whenever you want; you think you can take a pillow to the head for it. Besides, it's one of her soft scowls. She doesn't mind much.
There's a car waiting for her out the front when you walk her to the front door. It's a nicer car than you'd expected— a white car in a newer style. You've seen ads for it just a couple years ago. Her parents must be more well-off than you'd assumed.
"Thanks, Hebert," she says when the two of you get to the door. "I'll see you at school tomorrow." You're tempted to lean in and give her another kiss before she leaves, but you don't want to push your luck— and you definitely don't want to out her in front of her parents. You settle for just giving her a wide grin.
"Definitely," you agree. And with a little wave, you watch her leave.
You don't get much sleep that night, mostly because you stay up way too late with your fingers buried inside your wet pussy. Look— it's not your fault that all the women around you are so hot.
You regret it the next day, a little. Just a little, mind— it'd been a really pleasant way to end the day. You're tired, but not so tired that you can't function at school the next day. A quick shower wakes you up, as does the frigid cold when you go for your run.
The bus is, again, on time at school. This time, you're sure of it— they definitely must have new orders from upper management. As you wander inside the halls of Winslow, you wonder how long it'll last.
Madison greets you at your locker, where she's waiting anxiously for you. When she sees you, she lets out a huge sigh of relief, and practically attaches herself to you when you get close enough for her to hug. "Taylor," she moans quietly. "I missed you yesterday. Where were you?"
You hug her tightly against you, sighing softly. You really had missed the feel of Madison against you. "Sorry," you murmur. "Some stuff happened, and I had to take the day off. I'm sorry I didn't call. Let me make it up to you?"
She nods, then tucks her head against your collarbone. "Okay," she mumbles. "Whatever you want. Just let me hug you."
"Of course." You hold her tighter against you. "For as long as you want." And you remain true to that, allowing her to cling to you like a limpet despite the sneers it draws from some of the people who stalk through the halls prior to the bell. Even after the bell rings, she doesn't let go of you; you just shuffle slowly through them, keeping your hand pressed gently around Madison's back. When you get to the classroom, the teacher just heaves a world-weary sigh and points you to your shared desk. At least nobody can sneer at you here, with your other girl sitting behind you, sharp glares promising violence at anybody who looks at you and Madison wrong.
