So, this is gonna suck more than my first chapter. My first chapter had meaning and foreshadowing to chapters later down the line (you see...a good author does these things...I good author). This is to get the plot moving. Yeah. This might just suck. Bear with me. Throughout the entire story, actually.


Chapter 2

Rachel stood in front of me as she talked at me. I loitered on the locker.

I never noticed before, but as she talked, she is really hot. I know I have Quinn and all, but I can look at other women, right? I mean, Quinn's great and all, but she won't give me what I want. And I don't feel we're right. We're supposed to be, but...something doesn't click.

But Rachel. Her lips. Those plump, red lips. Moving as she sped through her words. Meaningless words. It's all meaningless. Making the shape of a kiss as she talks about pepperoni. Biting her lower lips as she talks about her red dress. So plump. I can imagine them squeezed against mine.

I can imagine her supple breasts squished against my chest. Her heart beating with mine, radiating heart and life throughout her body. This tintilating sensation I've never felt with Quinn. With Quinn, I feel pressured. I feel like I need to be with her. I am being pushed into her. But with Rachel, I want to be pushed. Not pushed. I want to pull her against me. I want to bring her close. I don't want to be brought to her.

I imagine her nose locking with mine as we kiss. Her hands holding mine. Her legs intertwining with mine. Me, her key, locking into her. The perfect fit. I imagine her legs widening as she rides my thigh, her skirt running up, her frilly underwear beginning to show. I imagine grabbing her ass, pulling her closer. She moves slightly to find the right spot. Comfort. It will all be comfortable. Not like with Quinn in a hottub. It would be magical. Like on television. Like it's supposed to.

I imagine her lips moving against mine the way she talks. But in slow motion. And sensually. Her fingers caressing my body. Wanting to touch me. Wanting to be close to me. Her breath mixing with mine. Sensual. Not sexual. Romantic. Hot.

I cross my legs to hide my erection.

"Finn, there's something I need to tell you," she says allowed. In her singsong voice. Some people would say its shrill or annoying. They'd call her a bitch. I'd say that she is just misunderstood. By others and herself. Confused. Delicate. I love her voice.

"What is it?" I asked, breaking out of my day wet dream.

"I overheard somewhere..."

"Yeah?"

"And Quinn's baby isn't yours."

Like you weren't expecting it. I needed to add it to my story. I'm sorry. I hope you like the long explanations. Sexual frustration causes a lot of things to be said about the body. Keep reading. And comment. I try and keep writing.