A/N: I should have posted this early, but I lost it. I forgot which file folder I saved it. Thank goodness I managed to find it on my back up files (whew!)
Another one-shot. A longish one that I hope you will like.
Warning: Some OOCness, some swearing and lime.
Oct.13, 2013 updates: This one-shot contains lime/lemon and has been edited to be more acceptable to admin regulation standards. If you want to view the full and unedited version please visit the author's profile page for more information. Underlined words, and signs will be posted throughout the oneshot to indicate the edited portions.
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Boys, India thought, will always be boys. She stared at a badly drawn caricature of what was supposed to be her, taped on the door of her ugly grey locker, her expression blank.
The paper was a small square piece, torn carefully from a larger piece of drawing paper, probably from the one they always used in their art class. At the centre was a crude drawing of a girl with brown hair, naked and giving head to a cock attached to some anonymous male torso.
It was a shame. It was was drawn superbly, but the rest of the drawings looked like it was made by an elementary school kid, rather than a high school boy.
India exhaled slowly, took the taped drawing and crumpled it, aware of the sniggers behind her back, as students watched and gossiped about her and everybody else that don't fit into their category of being normal or popular. She quickly entered the numbers in the combination lock and the door swung open. She proceeded to stuff the books she won't need for the weekend and took out the necessary textbooks for her last couple of subjects before slamming the door shut again.
Turning, her intense eyes unexpectedly met her classmate, Chris Pitts. He gave her a sardonic smirk before elbowing his annoying group of minions who proceeded to laugh about some secret joke she has yet to fathom.
Thank God for weekends, India thought, unaffected by her classmates' antics, as she slowly walked passed them, her mind already focused on the subject she was about to attend.
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But no matter how much she usually looks forward to the weekends, since her father died a few weeks ago, her enthusiasm at the end of the week wanes slowly.
Their Friday night dinners are becoming unbearable, as she sat there silently watching her mother, Evelyn, flirt with her uncle like she was a college kid all over again. She was filled with the urge to throw up the fancy dinner Uncle Charlie prepared meticulously whenever her eyes flickered over to the two older people make googoo eyes at each other. Though frankly, it was only her mother who looks at her uncle with those annoying puppy dog eyes most of the time. Half the time, her uncle would pointedly make eye contact with her, to show how easy it is to manipulate her shallow, vain mother.
By the time Sunday night rolls in and she finds herself in bed, she realizes her weekends are wasted watching these people make fools of themselves, that she almost welcomes the thought of Monday coming.
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India wrung her wet hair into a tight coil, secured it with a couple of pins by stabbing her hair through, feeling the slightly sharp ends dig into her scalp painfully.
Wednesday afternoons are devoted for PE classes, and they are always let out an hour early to encourage the students to devote the remaining one hour for club activities.
She belonged to the art club and the literature club. But the literature club's president is in the hospital that week, so meetings are cancelled. And the art club only holds their meeting once every month. With nothing much to do, she is forced to do something else with the free one hour.
Making a split-second decision, she decided to screw it and just extend her time in the pool and take a leisurely shower afterwards. Besides, it's rare she has the pool all to herself. Everyone one else are too involved with their own activities; not to mention that the autumn dance is coming up. And practically every student is scrambling around for a dress they want to wear.
Paddling slowly to and fro the ends of the pool, India barely concentrated on her swimming, wondering whether Uncle Charlie would be waiting for her outside the school premises again like the last time. She frowned. She should have warned him to stay away from her school. Her classmates are beginning to suspect he is some kind of her lover or stalker or something.
Feeling the water turn slightly chilly, she felt her nipples hardened. Taking it as a cue that she had had enough, she swam to the nearest ladder and hauled herself gracefully out of the water. She went to one of the benches where she left her gym towel. Rubbing herself vigorously, she hooked her arms through the bathrobe and headed her way to the gym showers.
The girl's changing room door clanged dully as it closed behind her, and she locked it securely with her access key. She headed straight to her own locker room, removing the robe off her body and unzipping her swimsuit. Since she is alone in the changing room, no one would care about her stripping before she even made it to her own corner. She was conveniently assigned to the farthest locker in the room, and she rather liked it, as it afforded a small measure of privacy.
Halfway in the room, she pulled her swimsuit down, and she slinked away from the wet, one piece covering her upper body snugly. Finally free from the constricting material, she heaved a sigh of content, letting her breasts bounce free, as she gathered her suit in one hand and continued to her locker.
It was only then she became aware of a low scuffling noise. The noise is something akin to a person trying to hide somewhere in the room; his attempts to hide the sound of his footsteps by muffling it as much as possible, proved nil. She has exceptional hearing for a normal human. And the girl's locker room can magnify any noises made by any of the occupants using it.
With her expression unchanging, she turned to the last corner of the row of lockers and saw his blond hair first before anything else.
"Fuck! Stroker, I never wanted to believe you act like a mouse with your unflattering hair, but today you've proven yourself about your mousy tendency to sneak inside the room undetected." Chris Pitts is still scrambling all over the bench, holding, what looked like a bag of flour. He probably has the evil intention of dumping the contents overhead on some poor chosen victim of the week.
And the poor, chosen victim of the week so happened to be her. Obviously. Or he wouldn't be here in the first place.
India lifted one of her eyebrows and gave him a pointed death glare. Chris, for all his chiselled, boy-next door, good looks and respectable background, had the unhealthy and unfortunate tendency to act like a world-class jerk whenever he is around his friends. She would have thought he can act decent when he is alone, but finding him here with the intention of doing mischief crumbled all her doubts about his character.
Chris Pitts will never stop being a jerk and a bully. And he will never stop tormenting people he thinks are weak. He is nothing, but a hopeless piece of shit that doesn't deserve her attention.
"What do you want Pitts?" she said evenly, noting that he is alone inside the room with her.
"Holy crap! Stroker, why the fuck are you stark naked? Don't you have an ounce of decency left in you?" Chris had just realized her state of attire when he finally gave up hiding the bag of flour. He almost dropped the bag, his expression a mixture of revulsion and irritation that he failed in his attempt to the pull the prank he had planned for her.
"You know, Chris, I only need to scream the word rape to get back at you for being such an annoying douche bag." India said silkily, tossing her wet swimsuit beside her tormentor. She's not fooled by his false bravado. Chris may act all macho and tough, but underneath his carefully controlled demeanor, he is just an insecure boy who has no idea how to handle himself without his friends to nudge him in the wrong direction.
"What makes you think I am so damn interested in you?" he sneered. "You thought just because I enjoyed teasing you, I am secretly in love with you. And teasing is just my form of expression." He punctuated his words by quoting it with his fingers.
Bored, she rolled her eyes in the ceiling and walked passed him. She twirled her locker combination and took out her basket of bathroom toiletries before slamming the door shut. From the corner of her eye, she could see him tucking his hands under his armpits, scrutinizing her, waiting for her to react.
"Well, Stroker? This ain't a Nicholas Sparks movie. Is that why you started stripping yourself when you thought I might change my mind once I see your body?" he leered at her.
India turned to face him, eyes challenging. "Oh, really? I never knew you as an experienced guy, Pitts. I thought I'd just give you a glimpse of what a female body look like since I'm guessing you just have to content yourself with your sleazy porno mags." She snorted.
His cheeks colored slightly. "Fuck you, Stroker! Unlike you, who only need to content herself with her creepy Uncle's ministrations, I have more than enough of my share of a healthy sex life."
She moved so fast, she barely had time to register in her mind what she had done. One second, she is standing in front of him, and the next, she is balancing her lithe figure on her tiptoes.
"Silly boy, you thought you are so cool acting like a jerk. But underneath it all, you are just a pathetic human being who is so insecure about himself that at the first sign of trouble, you'd probably pee in your pants." She breathed, "I bet my inheritance and trust fund, you're a virgin as the next clumsy village idiot ."
And with that, she moved towards the shower area, leaving behind a stunned Chris, who pivoted on his heel, his mouth open, unable to come up with a good rebuttal.
"Bitch." He spluttered; face now crimson red with embarrassment and anger.
"i reckon your mind just short-circuited because it was the first time a naked girl brushed against your skin." She gave a peal of laughter, clearly enjoying the look on his face. She paused before continuing with her intention to shower. "If you do get the urge to peek, be a dear and try to dispose your semen properly. I imagine you would like to jerk off." She gestured at his bulging pants. "If that ain't an indicator that you are interested in me, I'd say you're probably gay."
She retreated into the shower areas, whistling softly, letting him bristle in defeat. Serves him right for being such an asshole. Adjusting the shower knobs to the right temperature, she ducked under the torrent of water pouring out from the nozzle above her. She squeezed out a generous amount of shampoo, lathered it on her hair thoroughly before washing it clean.
When she finally opened her eyes as soon as she felt that the water is no longer sudsy, she almost yelped when she found Chris standing directly in front of her.
"What the fuck are you doing, asshole?!" she gripped the knobs behind her and twisted it close, water dripping all over her body.
"You're right." Chris admitted in defeat, face still red. His jaw tightened. "I am a virgin. But so are you. And thank god you are not my type."
India studied him with a serious expression. "How about a test then?"
"What are you proposing?" he eyed her suspiciously.
"Let's see whether you and I are immune to each other. From the looks of it, I'd say I'm just exactly what you are craving for." She took a step towards him, and watched with satisfaction as he took a step back.
"That's ridiculous!" Chris' eyes were wide with disbelief. "I thought I told you I don't like you?"
"Then prove it!" she challenged, taking another step closer to him. "Prove it to me that after one shared kiss, you can walk away from me without being so much affected by my presence." She challenged. "You always say you don't like me, but I can smell it from you that you are denying the opposite of what you are really feeling for me."
"This is stupid," he mumbled. "Fine. Come here, bitch." He grabbed hold of her naked waist, still wet with the moisture from the hot shower she just took.
She grinned triumphantly, "First one to pull away wins."
"Don't blame me if your body begs for more." He muttered. "This will be the one and only time you can get hold of Chris Pitts exclusively." He added smugly.
"No, Chris. This will be the one and only time you will taste India Stoker." She whispered, before meeting his lips at an angle.
Surprise, surprise. Even douche bags like Chris can have surprisingly soft and full lips. He may be a clumsy kisser, but his clumsiness is compensated by his eager enthusiasm. He may deny all he wants about wanting her, but judging by the way he tugged at her lower lip, the hotness of his breath, and the way his lungs take in oxygen, he is definitely a lost cause.
Chris Pitts is attracted to her.
She doesn't know whether she should laugh or tease him about it; the school's jock and number one bully, crushing on the school's creepy outcast student and favourite victim.
But she has to admit, there is something about bad boys like Chris that turns most girls on. Even she is prepared to acknowledge that she is curious about him too.
Both tongues caressing each other's lips; hot breath fanning their faces. They took their time exploring, as they took turns nipping and biting, coaxing and giving.
A hand brushed her left ribcage.
India's pounding heart lurched, and her lower stomach clenched with excitement. She lifted her hands up and buried it on Chris' hair, her nails digging on his scalp.
He gave a low guttural moan. "Christ!"
Ignoring the moisture still clinging on her skin, he wrapped his body around her naked form, pulling her up, lifting her as if she weighed nothing at all. Her long, slender legs wrapped around his waist. India could feel her pussy lips stretching wide open.
"Come on, Chris." She pulled away momentarily. "Are you ready to admit you are lusting after creepy India Stoker?"
"In your dreams." Chris replied, before leaning to capture her lips again. Reaching out behind her, he twisted the taps to a close. They were already wet enough. At least she was already wet enough.
Grabbing handfuls of her buttocks, he kneaded them, fingers teasing and rimming the flesh around her sensitive areas. India enjoyed it so much, she bit his lower lip in her wanton excitement. "Chris!"
"You like it, bitch?" Chris asked huskily. His middle finger made gentle stabbing actions at the edge of her pussy.
India shuddered involuntarily. "Gentle foreplay won't get you anywhere, Chris." She gave a surprised yelp when she was hauled unceremoniously out of the shower stalls. Peering over his broad shoulder, she could see where they are headed: in the small, private lounge area inside the locker room where some worn out couches lay scattered for students to sit in between breaks.
He kneeled down in front of one sofa, placing her in a sitting position before standing up.
India's lips twitched in amusement. The way he handled her, was like handling a cherished toy he is afraid to break.
Eyes dark with desire, he looked down at her. "Shall we continue?" he gave her a sardonic grin.
Face upturned to meet his, India stared back. Without a word, she reached out and clasped his leather belt. Unsnapping it with a loud clicking sound, she bit her lower lip, eyes widening at the swishing sound the belt made as it unwind its embrace on his trim waist. She pulled the zipper from his jeans down, before dipping her hand inside and grasping the cotton briefs cradling his hardened member.
His breath hitched.
oOoOoOolime/lemonoOoOoOo
Chris Pitts tasted salty and musky, with the deep oceany smell of the soap he uses.
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And then.
"Ohhh." Chris moaned.
oOoOoOolime/lemonoOoOoOo
Her orgasm lasted only a few seconds, but it was worth it nonetheless. India stood up, felt a trickle of sticky liquid drip at the side of her mouth. She can wipe it off later. For now, she wanted to see his reaction.
He eyed her with renewed interest when she stood up, took a step forward and towered over him. She cupped one of her breasts, heavy and dewy with her perspiration. Her one member audience could not make up its mind on which part of the body he wants to concentrate, as he strained his gaze down her body to where her pussy lay red and swollen, the result of her intense masturbation.
"Do you want some more, Chris?" she whispered, her heavy-lidded eyes watching him closely. She held out the middle finger that she used to pleasure herself earlier. He automatically took her slender digit into his mouth, sucked on her honey. Gone was the menacing and annoyed look he sported earlier. In its place is an expression of bliss and unfulfilled desire and intense lust
"Y-yes.." Chris answered.
"You forgot the magic word, Chris."
"Yes, please. I want more. God, India. I want you. I want to fuck you so badly. Give it to me." Chris reached out to tug her hair with his free hand...
She looked down at him. You scum! Her mind sneered. There's no way I'm letting you.
"In your dreams, Chris." India whispered, before standing up and looking down at him with a smug air. "In your dreams." She repeated, before turning on her heel and left him to gape back at her in shock and disbelief.
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India slammed her locker door shut, stuffed a couple of library books in her bag and felt a subtle sensation skating down her back. It was not entirely unpleasant. More like a caress that she either hate or like.
Around her, students shuffled to and fro, making excited plans over the weekend as they marched they way out of school. She let the tide of students carry her out, walking with them and ignoring the garbled announcements of the principal on the speakers above her head.
She sneaked a look behind her, certain that someone was staring hard at her.
Her eyes meet his intense blue eyes. His stare never wavered.
"Yo Stoker! We'll drop by your house tonight, bitch! Tell your mom to get ready for some highschool spanking." James Davenport, captain of the lacrosse team, and Chris' bestfriend yelled. The group of boys surrounding Chris sniggered.
"Your momma's one hot chick. Too bad the daughter is a freak." One of them commented.
They continued to laugh.
India never changed her expression. In the space of a few seconds, the world seemed to fade a little, the insulting sniggers seemed to disappear, and the smell of soap, musk and sex seemed to dominate her smell as she continued to study Chris Pitts' blue eyes.
They seemed to plead at her; to let him in her mysterious and private world. To let him experience otherworldly passions that only she can introduce him in.
Her eyelids flickered, and the connection disappeared. She turned slowly, face forward, just in time as the late afternoon sun warmed her face, her saddle shoes making soft clicking sounds as she stepped outside the school's main entrance.
I want you, India. Show me. Let me in.
India spied her Uncle Charlie waiting in the distance. Clutching her book bag closer to her body, she ignored her Uncle and headed towards the direction of the school bus waiting for her.
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A/N: I hope more people will put stories. I'm lonely in this section of FF.
I appreciate all the people who commented/reviewed my other one-shots. For the rest of the readers, while I am happy to see notifications that you read my works, I would be even happier to read your reviews.