Algae Bra

A couple nerdy teenagers get together after school…

“Uh, Algae Bra.” I was just hanging out with the boys, waiting for the stragglers to finish their laps. Then, we heard a giggle behind us.

“Algae Bra?” Izzy shook her head. “What’s the test on?”

“Uh,” I tried to think, “Gimme a minute.” Finally, the coach tweeted, and the slow pokes flopped down on the bleachers catching their breaths.

“All right ladies, hit the showers, and freshen up.” So, we went down, and changed back, into our regular school clothes. I threw my shorts, and tank top in a shopping bag, and tied the handles shit, but when I came out, she was waiting between the locker room doors with her friends. “I’ll catch you up later.” She wiped her glasses on her skirt, and put them back on. “So, you remember what the test was on?”

“Oh,” I shook my head, “No, but I have to swing by my locker for the textbook, anyways.” I waved the plastic bag at her, so she followed me.

“Hmhn!” Another one of those giggles, with her lips held tight over her braces. “One locker to another, huh?”

“You don’t shower, after gym class?”

“Not today. I pulled a tendon in my heel. Plantar Fasciitis, it runs in my family.”

“Oh,” I thought she was faking it, to get out of laps. “Here we are.” I undid the combination lock, and chucked the sweaty clothes in the bottom. “Don’t you have to get to class?” Running my fingers up the pages from the corner, I picked out the bookmark, and flipped back the that start of the chapter. “[Order of Operations.]” I read out loud, and showed her.

She tipped her glasses down to look over them. Like a librarian, or a teacher, I guess. Only younger, of course. She shook her head, “That’s Pre-algebra.”

“I know, but you understand all that, stuff?”

“Yeah,” she pushed them up, “It’s simple, but I’m in Algebra II.”

“In 9th grade?”

“No,” she laughed, “I’m a Junior, I just failed PE.”

“Oh, you don’t look, seventeen?”

“I’m not, I’m fifteen, like you?”

“Well, I’m actually sixteen, but. You must’ve skipped a couple years, to already be a junior.”

“Yeah, i tested out, so I started as a Junior, this year.”

“Uh, don’t you have to get to class?”

“No, I’m on lunch, but I’m not really hungry. Pizza day, or at least they try to pass it off as pizza.” She waved it off. “I’ll walk you to class, but I found the easiest way to remember is top-down. You want to take care of the highest exponent, first. So, if you have squares, and cubes in a polynomial equation.”

“Which is?”

“Oh, right.” She shook her head, “That means multiple factors with multiple exponents, such as 2x Squared plus y minus one?”

“Uh huh?”

“If it isn’t already set up like that, just re-write it with the highest exponent first, then multiplication, then division, and then solve for X. It helps to separate them in sets, with Brackets, but you’ll get to that.”

“So, {Cubes, Squares, Square roots, Times, Divided by, plus, and then minus.} ?”

“Yeah. Basically.” I tried to remember that, and then, I guess I got enough of it right, to pass. Then, she met me by the door, “So, how’d you do?”

“I don’t know until he grades them, but I think I did all right.”

“So, how come you’re still in Sophomore PE, when you’re sixteen?”

“Well, because I’m a sophomore.” I shook my head, “Don’t you have to get to class?”

“Why do you keep asking that?” She shook her head, “I’ll make it, I just want to make sure, you got it.”

“Yeah, I think I got it, but.” I felt the end of the bookmark, and cracked it, going down the hall. “Uh. [Differential/Equations]”

“Hmn! Now you’re heading for Calculus straight from Pre-Algae Bra?” She giggled again.

“No, lunch.”

“Well, that’s Differential or Equations. That’s Greater than, Equal to, or Less than.” She pointed over my shoulder. “It’s usually easier to do differential, than equal to, because the answer is anything more than, instead of exactly the same number, but don’t let that trip you up. It also switches.” She pointed, “Back, and forth.” With her finger side to side, “As you shift variables to either side.”

“Well, I’m not hungry, either.”

“Well, I got a note from the school nurse, but it’s just Algebra II, so I can skip it.”

“You’re really good at math.”

“I guess, it’s easier when it’s not real numbers, but indeterminate variables, but Algebra isn’t really math. It’s how you set it up, so you can do the math.”

“Well, maybe it’s easier for you, but it’s like. An order of magnitude harder for me, because in addition to the 10 numbers, there’s up to 26 letters.”

“Oh no. Don’t think about them as letters, they’re just place-holders, like a substitute;” She went on, all through lunch, and I think I got the basics, but then I had to go do History, and then English, both of which I’m pretty good at.

So anyway, she caught up with me after class. My last class, and I joked, “You following me?”

She stuck out her tongue, “Don’t you have to get to class?”

I laughed, and then I gave her a ride home, so she could help me read up on greater than, less than, or equal to. “Huh, it’s funny.” She didn’t laugh.

“What is?”

“Most sports boys seem to find it easier to understand a hierarchy.” She waxed philosophical.

“Well, I don’t really consider myself a sports boy, per se. It’s not as if Physical Education is all that hard to follow, as long as you know the rules.”

“Exactly, so Algebra is just the same, as that. You just have to know the rules, and follow them.”

“Yeah, to the letter, but learning the rules isn’t what I’m struggling with, it’s actually how ill defined the variables are. I think, 10 equals 10, but x could mean anything, So, it’s hard to really take it seriously as a number, because it’s not a number, or it could be any number. At least with a substitute teacher, she gets her name right out of the way at the beginning. She doesn’t say: “All right, now I’m going to be taking over while Mrs. Borland is out on maternity leave,” and then let you try to guess her name.”

“Oh, Mrs Borland is having a baby?”

“Yeah, you didn’t see her? She was out to there.” I held my hand out.

“Hm.” She looked down, then back up, but she had her glasses off. Because of her Myopia, she doesn’t need reading glasses, she just wears them to see better outside her point of focus, which seems to be anywhere outside of about 20 feet/6m. Like walking down the halls, she’s not going to run into walls or anything, but she squinted.

“What?”

“It’s hard to believe you aren’t, into sports at all?”

“No, not really. I’m not into History either, just because I’m good at it. Any more than you’re into math.”

“Oh, but I am.” She sat back, and looked up. “Huh, it’s like, the language of the cosmos.” She waxed poetic again, “Or what the ancients called the music of the spheres.”

“Yeah, back when the Earth was the center of the universe, and everything, including the sun revolved around it.”

“So, their equations were off, and they came up with all kinds of interesting theories to explain how planets could appear to go Retrograde.”

“Oh, I hear Mercury is Retrograde.”

She laughed out loud, so her teeth sparkled. “No, Mercury can’t go retrograde, because it’s an inferior planet.”

“Well, I know it’s small, but it’s also the fastest.”

“No, haha. That’s a joke, right?”

“Yeah, see? I understand hierarchy.”

“Yeah, so well. Um.” She thought, “That just means that it orbits.” She made a fist, and pointed down. “Around the sun, closer to the earth. No wait.” She picked up her pen. “I better draw it, or I’ll run out of fingers, but here’s the Earth, see?” She tapped the circle.

“Yeah, but it’s orbit is eliptycal.”

“Yeahbut, it’s not perfectly circular, and we don’t need Kepler’s Law later, so let’s just stick to Nutonian orbital mechanics. Here’s Venus, and here’s Mars.” She added to more rings. “Now, when Mars is overtaken by the Earth.” . . .

…

“It appears to travel backwards, against the background of stars, when really that’s just an optical illusion.” She added lines or rays out from each of the Earths, and each Mars to show how the perspactive changes, but didn’t bother adding the stars.

“Parallax.”

“Right, parallax. So the problem is that Mercury.”

“And Venus.”

“Right.” She wrote, “[Venus]” so she didn’t forget, “Overtakes the Earth, so it can’t appear to go backwards against the background of stars.”

“Even if it did, the background star would the the sun, which would probably make it pretty hard to see.”

“Exactly.”

“So, why do they keep saying that Mercury is retrograde?”

“Huh, because that’s Astrology, instead of Astronomy. They say lots of stuff, like being born in December makes you generous, and Idealistic with a great sense of Humor, but then they didn’t bother updating the calendar, or accounting for procession of the axial tilt for centuries, so Sagittarius isn’t even behind the sun in December any more, and there’s a 13th constellation in the ecliptic. So, what’s it mean when you’re born under Ophiuchus?”

“Uhm,” I tried to think. “Spirited, magnetic, impulsive, clever, flamboyant, and at times jealous, power-hungry, and temperamental.” This time she covered her mouth, because she was laughing too hard to keep her smile closed over her teeth.

“Well, they just made all that up, after the fact.”

“Yeah, and it’s all.” I quoted, “Beware the 13th sign,” again, “WooOOooh!”

“Haghanm.” She bit her lip, and snorted. “Snerk.”

“You shouldn’t be ashamed of your braces.”

“What?” She blinked, seriously, and put on her glasses. “What makes you say that?”

“Because when you smile, you hold your mouth tight, and clench your jaw. A little muscle pops out in your cheeks.” I pointed. “It stretches out your dimples.”

“Huh, well.” She got up, and started pacing, around my room. “I guess, I just got in the habit, back when I. Well, before I got the braces, let’s just say that I really needed to get braces.” She turned around, and laughed. “You sure aren’t ashamed of your body, nor your dingdong.” She changed the subject, and giggled through her fingers.

“What? What are you even talking about?”

“Oh, come on. It’s a little late to be embarrassed after you flashed the whole gym.”

“No, I didn’t. When do you think I did that?”

“Well, a couple weeks ago, I guess. Huh!” She bounced on my bed. “You were just, you know.” Leaned back, and propped herself up with her elbows locked.

“You’re double jointed?”

“Yeah, but stop interrupting me to change the subject.”

“I thought you’re finished.”

“Oh really. You thought I finished the thought, on ‘You know;”?”

“No, sorry. What was I doing?”

“Just kicking back on the bleachers, like this.” Her skirt slipped down between her legs, “Only you weren’t wearing any underwear.”

“Oh, uh. This is embarrassing.”

“Why, because the whole class saw your glans?”

“No, well. Yeah, that’s kinda. Really?” I shook my head.

“Yeah, really. All the girls at least. We’re all talking about it in the locker room, and most of them thought it was a pretty creepy, and perverse thing to do.”

“Well, I didn’t do it on purpose, i just forgot.”

“What?”

“Huh, I had an accident.”

“You peed yourself?”

“No, a. Shart.”

“A shart?” She shook her head.

“Yeah, you know when you feel a fart coming on, but.”

“Oh my god, you shat yourself in school?”

“No, not. Really. I mean, not a lot, I just. I had a little diarrhea earlier, and I thought that was the last of it, but. I guess I thought wrong.”

“Oohoohohoh! Well, hmhnhihehahn!” She uncovered her grin, “I’m sorry, I’m doing it again.”

“Oh, no. It’s okay. I’m sure it’ll take a while to get used to smiling again. I mean, normally, instead of trying to hide it, since you got braces, and. Uh.” I’m running on, nervously. Partly because I just admitted to sharting in the halls, but fortunately, it was on the way to the locker room, where they had showers that I could use to clean up. Unfortunately, I hadn’t brought a spare pair of underwear, because honestly, I didn’t think there was going to be any need.

But also, partially, I’m nervous, because she’s a junior, and so smart, and funny, and good looking too. At least I like her glasses, and braces, and awkward smiles. Even the way she tries to hold back laughing, but I guess I’m also a little glad that I never saw her before. When she needed braces, and it’s hard to imagine her with bad teeth, but she’s not, like a Sagittarius at all, and I know that’s just superstitious, but it’s like her habit of covering her teeth when she smiles, because she’s not used to having braces, that make her teeth sparkle, and her lips puff out when they’re not held tight in one of her shy smiles…

“Smooch, sorry.”

“Oh, no.” She took her glasses off, and just closed her eyes, so I kissed her again.

“Huh!” Her hand jumped back from my lap. “Sorry.”

“Oh, no, it’s okay.” I was just surprised that she went for it, that quickly. I mean she felt right up my leg, and between them until she found my cock, and started rubbing it in my pant leg.

“Huh!” She looked down, blushing madly, and popped her lip out of her teeth. “Phb! You definitely have something to be proud of here.”

“Hey, you didn’t just offer to help me with my math to get in my pants, did you?”

“Yeah,” she pushed one of my shoulders, and pulled the other, standing up, and pushing me back on my bed. “I did.”

;

Isadora (f Monologue gm Molested)

Okay, where do I start? Well, I guess in kindergarten, because that’s when I put on my boots, grabbed my backpack, and stuffed monkey, to go out for a little adventure.

What? I was 6, and my name was Dora. Well, everyone stared calling me Dora when I got a pet monkey, and a backpack, okay?

Not the best role-model, maybe not as bad as her cousin Diego, who said that “Anacondas give great hugs!” but a little girl exploring on her own, with nobody but a pet monkey to protect her only knows to look out for foxes, who want to swipe her backpack, with or without a blue mask tied on over his eyes.

Which isn’t to say that i had neglectful parents. I went out to play with other kids, most of them older, but I also didn’t know that there was anything wrong with wandering off alone looking for an adventure. I didn’t even realize what had happened until 2nd grade, when the police came to school, and had an assembly in the old cafeteria. That had a stage, and a podium, for them to get up and tell us about Stranger Danger.

He didn’t look like Stranger Danger, he just looked like a boy. An older boy, I don’t know, I didn’t ask his age. Old enough to have hairy balls, but he caught me bent over a stump, with crayons out, and my map on my backpack, so I didn’t get lost.

I still have that first map I drew, it took several trips to cover the whole neighborhood. I couldn’t even write names for the plaes, so I just drew pictures, roughly where I understood them to be in relation to each other.

I was wearing a skort, an orange one with a lilac teeshirt, and a Dora the Explorer backpack with a little caboose sling for Boots. Long story short, he molested me. Took me off to the store, and held my hand. Got me a big soda for to drink, and then walked me off to the woods until I inevitably had to pee.

Then, he asked me if I was potty trained, and of course I was. So proud of what a big smart girl I was, and I showed him. He picked me up to sit on a hollow stump, just as soon as he helped me unbutton my scort, and pull it down with my underwear. Like a toilet, only higher than a toilet, and as soon as I finished tinkling, he said I had to wipe.

“Uh, oh. No toilet paper.” So, he stuck his hand between my legs, and swiped a finger up my crack, and then he picked me up. With his hands between my legs, he held me on his hip, and molested me right there until he got a boner, and set me down to show me.

“You know boys pee standing up?” The stump was just about high enough for him to use as a urinal, but of course, he couldn’t urinate yet. Not with such an erection, but he said, “Sometimes it’s a little hard to get going, so you have to milk it out like this. You try it.”

It was right in front of my face, I mean literally, my eyes came right up to about the level of his crotch, and he dropped his pants, so I could see his testes swinging in his scrotum. “You might have to suck it to get it started.”

Finally, I said “No, you’re not peeing in my mouth.”

“No, I won’t. I promise, I’ll pull out before it cums out.” A long story short, he held my hands wrapped around his shaft, and pumped it with his glands barely inside my lips, but I sucked it as good as I could. I don’t remember, whether I just wanted to help, when he was having trouble peeing, or if I really enjoyed it, but he explained it so well that it just sounded sensible.

“You promised!” I was upset, but he finished ejaculating, and said. “No, I said I wouldn’t pee in your mouth, and that wasn’t pee.” He lied, well. Okay, technically, he didn’t pee in my mouth, but he also promised to pull out before it came out. I spat it out on the first spurt, but then he just turned, and finished himself off in the stump.

Then, he grunted, and sucked in his gut. Oh yeah, and he was a fat kid, with acne, but I didn’t care. I thought I had made a friend, a real friend, but then he managed to force some urine out to prove it, and I figured that was that.

Then, I got out my map, and followed it home. I forgot about that little “Adventure” until a few years later, when they told us about bad men, and to tell an adult you trust, like a policeman, or a teacher if your mommy, or daddy are the ones that touched you in a way that made you uncomfortable. Anywhere that’s normally covered by your underwear, or try to convince you to get in their car…

“Huh!” So, then I waited until it was over, and did the math until I put 2, and 2 together. I still didn’t know exactly what they’re talking about, because they used such vague language for 8 year olds. It wasn’t until I talked to the police lady, and told her what happened that she gave me a word for what he did to me.

“He molested you.”

“Oh, what’s molested?” A quickfire round of 20 questions later, and that’s how I found out that I was sexually assaulted.

So, then I went through puberty, or most of it, I think. Kinda hard to tell when you’re done, because it just tapers off, but you don’t have any big event to signify it, like cramps, bloating, horniness, and bleeding an a semi-regular basis. It got more regular, and predictable though.

The cramps got better, when I learned how to massage myself, inside, and out. The best treatment for menstrual cramps turned out to be orgasms, at least for me, but for a number of years. Let’s say about 5, all I had to think about was the memory of that fat kid, with the pimples, and the dirty trick he played with a soda, and a rotten stump to play potty.

I’m not mad, at all. Yeah, he took advantage of my precocious ignorance, but I’ve always been a bright girl, and proud of it. So, I guess I just wanted to show off what I had learned in the bathroom. I was also awkward, lonely, self conscious, and a bit of a histrionic introvert. That’s self-diagnosis, so take it for what it’s worth, but normally I find myself enjoying the solitude. When I’m alone, I can entertain myself, but then when I get out in public, I get this wholly different personality.

It’s not like I mean to be condescending, but I get that a lot. I just refuse to be ashamed of my intelligence, because honestly, what else do I have, a clear complexion? Yeah, the other girls care about that, but it’s not as if boys really pay attention to your pores, unless there’s something wrong with them. 1 blemish isn’t going to ruin your whole life, I promise. Unless it’s on your lip, then they might think it’s a cold sore, and you have herpes, or something.

Regardless, I didn’t really get a chance to see another penis, and I guess I fell into the trap of listening to my peers. I didn’t think that he was playing it off, as if he was totally unaware that his shorts stretched out, and his soft member rolled out where you could see it like a giant worm, yearning to breathe free.

And no, I wasn’t hypnotized by the sight of the D. It was just nice, and a cheap little voyeuristic thrill to giggle about, until it was largely forgotten in favor of the rumor du jour. Underclass girl’s locker room talk, it’s like a soap opera. Who hot, who’s not, who’s a virgin, and who’s probably a big slutty nympho that lets him get in her pants on the first date.

Also, who fingered her, and how that totally wasn’t our first date. He gave me rides home, a bunch of times, and we’ve practically been dating since winter break, but he finally got the nerve to make his move, and he didn’t really know what he was doing. He hadn’t a clue what to do once he got his hands on them, but at least he listened, and he’s starting to learn. I’m sure he’ll be able to satisfy me, soon enough…

“Huh!” Then there was the toilet stalls, I guess. In the locker room, and the girls room down the hall, where they could smoke cigarettes. After they got all moist, and closed the doors to let their fingers do the walking, thinking about Brad, or Trent, and his strong looking fingers. Finally sniffing, gasping, or grunting until the scent of teenage orgasm wafted under the partitions from stall, to stall.

Let’s just say we skipped lunch a lot. It’s very slimming, and burns calories.

I guess I got a little curious, maybe even a little too curious about technique? I tried, just about everything I could imagine, but I couldn’t help wondering about what they were doing, in the other stalls. What with all the heavy breathing, sniffs, and muffled grunts. 1 finger, or 2? Inside, or out? Maybe in, and out, with a quick swipe up to slick the hood out of the way, and feel the little point of pleasure in the top.

That, and penis. Not just any one, now, I had Bob. Just Bob, and such a boring name for such a. Well, to be kind, he doesn’t look like much of anything. Brown hair, brown eyes, reasonably clear pores? He’s not really cratered with pock marks, but he’s a teenager, in puberty, so he has the occasional breakout, especially when the weather gets warm.

His trouser snake, rolling down his pant leg to flop out on the bleacher seat. As if he didn’t feel that, or the draft, but then again. Maybe if he did, you’d think it would have gotten more turgid, or shriveled a little from the cold air conditioning.

I don’t know, I’d only seen one other penis before, and it was so long ago, but the girls, talked dirty. Laughing and giggling about dick, and cock. What’s wrong with penis? It’s a perfectly adequate term for what it is, it doesn’t sound blunt, and gutteral like cock, dick, twat, cunt, fuck. “MHN! HM Ihn hn. Hmmmn! Snh! Hihn!”

I don’t know if they actually thought I was, a lesbian, or any of the other, worst sounding words they came up with for that accusation. I know, I shouldn’t have peeked under the door, but she had her feet up, so you couldn’t see them hanging down, and I tried to tell her I was just checking if someone was in there, but of course I was lying.

I was just a little curious, what technique she used. Well, 2 fingers, in, and out, with a swipe up, and her inner labia slicked open on the inside with fresh vaginal juices, but. “Huh!”

Yeah, okay. If she was ever bicurious, and wanted to experiment. No, she’d never look past my teeth until i get these damned braces off, and I don’t want to pick pubic hairs out of them any more than she wants any pulled out when they get stuck, but I imagine that’s a real mood killer.

“Huh!” I splashed water up, yeah it’s toilet water, but cum on. It’s not like I don’t piss outta there, and they disinfect it for anything dirtier. It’s refreshing, and If i skip a shower, i might be able to catch Bob coming out of.

Okay, so maybe I stalked him. A little.

;

Bob (mf)

“Huh!” She sure didn’t waste any time, but I wasn’t kicking her out of bed. “Nice!” She looked back down, with her glasses off, with it right under her nose, and then she took a deep breath through her nose. “SnhH!” Her eyes slowly shutting, and her top lip got stuck. Over her braces.

“Uh, I don’t want to ruin the mood, or anything but.” Her lip rolled back down, and she touched it with her fingers, shaking her head. “Mpb! I’ll be careful.”

“Huh, okay.”

She just licked it, and breathed on it. Kissed the head a couple of times, but she kept her lips tight, and the hot breath coming out of her nose, almost dried her spit, but she worked it around with her fingers, and then she stick them in her mouth. “Agh caugh! Sptooh!” She wiped her hand on it, an I just had to shake my head.

It’s just that, you don’t expect a girl like her, to. Well, I don’t know, maybe it’s just me making assumptions, but she doesn’t even say anything nastier than penis. She talked about my Glans, okay? Then, I think she choked herself a little with her fingers, 3 of them to cough up a hawker, and speared it on with her hands.

Then she got up, and lifted her skirt. I saw a flash of pubic hair, and then I blinked. “Huh, you’re blonde?” I shook my head.

“Oh, no. I bleach my bodyhair.”

“Uh, why?”

“Because it’s easier than shaving? I have so little on my arms, and legs, it’s really a pain in the neck, and I get razor rash, really badly. Have you ever tried waxing?”

“No?” Why would I?”

“Well, don’t. I’ll save you the trouble.”

I wasn’t really planning on it. She just sat on it, and humped me, but she kept talking about that for a few, until she grunted. “Uh!” Her eyes slowly closed, and then she started to smile, but her lip did that thing again, and she snapped out of it.

Okay, now I get it. It’s not exactly attractive when she makes that face, but if she smiles too hard, her lip rolls up until her braces stick out under it, and I have to laugh a little. “Sorry.”

She just closed her eyes, and bit her lip. “Hmn!” I think she swallowed, and then her mouth dropped wide open. “Hah!” She felt up my chest, then down my tummy, to push up my shirt, but her hips kept rocking, and I could feel. Well, i couldn’t really be sure if that was her, or the spit running down the sides, maybe a little of both, but it was so wet, and slow. I wasn’t sure if I could get off this way, but I didn’t know how to mention that i didn’t have anything to wrap it, because I’m not exactly sexually active. “Huh, hHhuh!” She shook her head. “You can touch me too, but. You really don’t work out, or anything? Ahn!” She nodded to herself, and she was really enjoying it.

“Not really, any more than i have to, but I’ve got a pretty high metabolism.”

“Uh, huh?” She was definitely picking up the pace. “Uh, huh huH!” Her voice rising higher, and higher, i felt her bra, and her boobs shaking with her frantic thrusts, but i don’t really care about. Big boobs, i mean any boobs at this point are great, and I can’t really believe that we only just really started talking to each other this morning, but she did sincerely admit to helping me with algae.

“Huh? Th’ fuch? Uh, huh! Fuck, huh! Hhuh! Oh, sorry.”

“Huh!’ She just turned, and lay down beside me. “Oh, no, nothing to be sorry about.” She just payed with the streaks on my tummy, and kissed my shirt. “That was fine, you did just great, your first time?”

“Not, really. I mean with a girl?”

“Yeah, obviously masturbation doesn’t count.”

“I’ve never done it, exactly that way before.”

“Frottribado.” She nodded on my chest.

“Is that what it’s called?”

She shrugged, “That’s what I call it. A portmanteau of Frottage, and Tribado.”

“Oh, what’s the difference?”

“it depends on who you ask, but I guess gay men call ti frotting, when they rub their penises together, and lesbians call it tribbing. So,heterosexually, I would think it’s some combination of the two, but I think they’re really just synonyms, for rubbing the genitals against each other. Huh, I can’t wait to get these damned braces off, so I can get back into fellatio.”

“So, you have had oral sex, with someone else before.”

“Huh, yeah. But it was a long time ago.”

“How long?”

“Almost 10 years?”

…

I just did the math. “Oh.” What else could I say?

“It’s okay, I’m over it, but can I use your shower?”

“Yeah, of course.” she kicked her panties off, and put her glasses back on , then she went out the door.

I don’t know how to feel about that.

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