Summary: What if Max and the Flock had never gotten "the talk"? What is the outcome of an adolescence without an adult and knowledge of societal norms?

[Warning, this chapter contains some intense trash, most particularly at the beginning.]

Chapter Twenty-Five: Trash, or Not to be Trash..?

You like to rub yourself against the chair. When your tits rub up and down against the cold top of the chair edge, it feels like euphoria in your clit. Your knees start quivering and your vagina throbs as your nipples rub up and against, up and down the freaking chair, everytime it touches it, you feel like peeing out right there, cause it just feels like too much for you.

You like rubbing your crotch against the seat of the chair, strained and far, yet a teasing brush against you, makes you all the more.. wet.

You like playing with the chair and putting your crotch on different places on it, and then... ...rubbing.

You like standing in the middle, with your feet on either of the seat and rubbing back and forth on the backs, squeezing your titties.

Its like all is there is your butt, you hate that empty feeling in your butt, so you feel like you have to—need to—put something on the anus, into your anus, clenching it up and down with your butt cheeks like stroking a thick-hard penis with your butt, while you rub up and down, your vagina sweltering, so untouched, and so empty compared to your anus, it throbs. Only your butt is fullfilled as it clenches the random thing you put in there—a small shampoo sample bottle, the tip of a toothpaste tube, the end of a razor's handle, whatever you can find at the time, to quench that little circle, and squeeze tight. It is desperate. You are desperate, which is why you put anything there.

You do it rhythmically on your butt, up, down, up, down. Cause theres nothing else there, and your vagina is throbbing so hard, you feel like leaking your heart out in desperate, desperate, desperate.. something. The rhythmic squeezing on your butt.. you clench the small item up and down between your butt cheeks, and it creeps onto your anus everytime it goes up and down, enough to satiate you. It turns you on, to no end.

You feel so horny, like you cant last another moment on this earth without reaching that unquenchable pleasuredom, like you want someone to squeeze your tits off, hard, to suck on them hard, to no end. To pull off the little pleasurable nubs that you like to squeeze against your chair, tight. You squeeze them against the chair hard right now, up and down, up and down, you like the friction. You are convulsing in impatience, anticipation, you feel like screaming and shouting, in that feeling of ecstasy, as your tits rub up, and down, and up, and down. You keep on moving up and down against the chair, you're rubbing against it, and your vagina feels so empty, but your anus feels so full. You clench your butt again, anything to get closer to your pussy thats feeling so empty, so hard and horny right now. Theres nothing else to do, you love this feeling, but you're shaking, cause it just.. it just feels like too much.

You go up and down and up and down, running your right nipple over it and under it, dragging it back up against the chair so that you feel it extra hard. Your breast is swinging back and forth, slowly, as you rub your nipple against the chair.. hard. Your vagina feels like its sweltering, you just have to wait until the house is empty until you can take another chair from the kitchen and do it again, sticking your butt up into the air, imagining that its someone's hard, hard penis you're just rubbing against, as your titties rub against the chair top, back and forth like its dangerous and sick and hurting, you rub it hard, like you want it to hurt, cause you want it to hurt, cause your vagina just throbs so hard, and it leaks so hard, white fluid dropping out of your empty vagina, as you keep rubbing back and forth on top of the chair with your breasts.

Your arms are hanging limply over the top of the chair as you rub your chest against the back, the chair is faced around, your sweltering vagina leaking over the seat you are hovering backwards over. You have been pushed up against the back of your chair to rub your whole body up and down, anything to get closer, the friction on your nipples as you do so against the cool metal, incredible.

Finally, you give up, you can't take it anymore, and grab another chair and put them back to back so that you can get up, kneeling over them together, your feet put on either cushion, you are bending your knees as you take a seat on top of the conjoinment and you rub back and forth, trying as hard as you can desperately, to reach, reach that thing, that makes your vagina so wet and hairy and insatiable, and thats making you feel so jittery—thats making you want to pull your nipples off and squeeze much as you hate it, you want it again, which is why you rub your tits over the chair over and over again, to feel the white stuff dripping down from your vagina slowly, before you can give up and put the two chairs together and rub it over them all again, this time with your crotch on top. Finally, there is some contact on your vagina. You gasp in pleasure, your neck jerking up in surprise so that your head now faces the ceiling, finally there is some contact. You are rubbing erratically against the chair, your hands leaning over them to support your crazy butt-rubbing erratically, your breasts swinging up and down haphazardly 'cause all, all you can focus on, is that feeling. You are gasping in and out, your breasts swinging up and down, your vagina and clitoris, wetting the chair with fluids as you rub back and forth in desperate desperate need.

Coming closer and closer, your butt stops sticking out, but instead clenches over the thing you've placed there, your back convulses and turns and you suddenly grab your titties hard,and with each hand, you squeeze tight so that it hurts, but no—it feels so good, as you come closer.

Your orgasm is quiet, mind-breaking. You are simply sitting there, clutching your breasts to no end, as you finally reach towards.. towards it. The backs of both of the chairs are softly becoming coated in your thick fluids quickly. They are running down the chairs, as your crotch quivers, inundated itself in your own sex fluids. Your eyes are closed, as you keep squeezing your tits, your vaginal lips still wide open and ontop of the chairs you are kneeling over. And for the first time ever, your knees are closed as you try to ride out the reached orgasm. You buck quietly with a gasp, your hands still clutching your breasts like no tomorrow. Your heart is beating fast, your eyes are closed, as you are bucking forward, softly, gently. Finally..

Orgasm.

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What was that?

My eyes shot open, and immediately I felt weird feeling, almost like a full gas bubble in my crotch, waiting to come out. My hands were gripping my breasts tightly, and I felt them throb when I suddenly let them go. They felt sore. I extracted them and put my hands to my sides and waited a few minutes uncomfortably, and then suddenly, rapidly, I felt my entire panties wetten and become saturated and sticky against my skin. The gas-bubble seemed to have released.

Crap, I thought it was my period. But no, I'd just had it last week. I had a feeling.. that this was something different. Cum.

And for the first time ever, it was wet right against my skin, as Fang had shaved me last night. I could directly feel the stickiness.. everywhere.

Ugh, ew, I thought, as I felt all that sticky mess down there. It was so sticky, and I knew it came from my crotch, but I could feel the stickness reach up into my butt.. thats how sticky it was.

I got up, with a disgruntled, disgusted look on my face, and suddenly took a glance at the alarm clock.

Shi-itast-ickk. It was freaking 12 noon. I had freaking slept in.

And NO ONE had freaking bothered to wake me?! Now, I was angry. I almost never sleep in.. I could only recall two instances in which I did, and trust me, they were not pretty.

This is not pretty either, I told myself disgustingly, slipping my underwear and pajama band down my thighs to see the entire lining of the inside of my new, fresh, piece of underwear, completely and utterly saturated and inundated in what Fang would call cum.

Ugh, ew, I had been in ecstasy while I was asleep?I hate puberty.

And, besides, what was with that dream! I blushed red at the thought, and wondered why there was so much of the white stuff in my underwear today. Never before had there been just so much.

Sliding these panties back up onto my crotch and putting them back on would be equivalent to putting on a pair of completely wet, thick ones. I looked down at them distastefully, still irked at how late it was. My face was a visage of steel.

If I put on another new pair, not only would I have more laundry, but I'd also wet it all over again, since my crotch was just as sticky and a mess as well. I didn't even want to look down there. Suddenly, I felt another gas-bubble feeling, and it made me pause and hesitate, stop for a moment, I sat down on my bed again. My dirtied underwear was discarded to the side, completely saturated. I looked behind me to see that somewhere during the night, I had discarded my bra; it was off to the side. I wondered what had been going on with me, as I suddenly felt a sensation pop out from down below.

Oops. Wrong thing to do, sit on the bed. I felt the gas-bubble like feeling disappear as it came out.. and now, my sheets that I'd been sitting on, had white stuff on them, more than what had been on my crotch. What was this? It was like a period, except in bursts, and it was white stuff coming out... I hoped that was the last gas-bubble wetting whatever, but I continued sitting there, uncomfortably, on top of my pile of cum on the bed.

How is it possible to be in ecstasy, while you're asleep?! I asked myself irritatedly.

Maybe.. it was that dream.. I wasn't very good at remembering insignificant dreams, and this one was already fading.. All I remembered was that I'd used words I wouldn't normally use.. titties? But somehow, it felt all the more.. uh, arousing, to use them, just knowing that they were nonexistantial, and bad, in theory. That was the funny thing about dreams—you were always conscious of yourself, but the justification for your actions were always ludicrous. I was aware of how stupid of a word 'titties' was, yet I'd used it anyway, under the terms that.. it made sense to ?

I remembered.. something about a chair, and rubbing my crotch ontop of it.. two chairs put back to back together, and me sitting ontop of them, with my feet on either sides.. I remembered wanting the feeling of a penis behind me.. What the fuck?

Now, I normally don't curse.. but seriously, this was.. strange, and confusing. Why would I have such a weird dream like that? Why would I wake up, squeezing my, um 'titties,' them feeling sore, and a load of cum in my underpants? With more coming out as I speak?

Why was a dream that didn't make sense to me put me in so much freaking ecstasy, that I didn't even get? What did ecstasy mean? Why did I orgasm in the dream? Was that even possible?

What was that.. incredible.. feeling.. like? It was already fading from me..

I'd read that orgasm is what triggers the end of sex. But why had I done it in the dream? I remembered the feeling of wishing for and wanting a penis near me, to rub against, but why was I rubbing?! Why was there so much cum coming out of me? This was so ridiculous.

Sometimes you really wished youd have a grownup to tell you these things..

...It wasn't possible to orgasm when you didn't have sex, right?. And you need a penis to have sex. There was no penis near me in that dream, but I'd been orgasming anyway. Actually.. well, nevermind. It was a dream; they weren't supposed to make sense anyway.

I sighed, as I felt like no more would be coming out anytime soon, and looked around my room for something to clean myself up with, before putting on a new pair of panties. I'd opt to just shower it all off altogether, but I needed to get down there already.. who knows what havoc the flock would've reaped without me? Last time Fang was left in charge while I'd slept, he'd seemed to strike the whole oppressive leader routine, not letting the kids come up or leave the kitchen (so they could bother me, apparently).. He'd made them just sit there, freaking, for almost two hours and a half, to make sure they don't go upstairs.

Big whoop. I wondered what he'd done today..

Sighing, I looked around my room for a bit more. Oh yeah, Fang had placed a box of tissues by the side of my bed a while ago, when I'd told him about my periods being irregular and random. I'd spent a lot of time one morning a month ago, trying to figure out how to clean myself before I could get into the bathroom to put a pad on. He'd asked me why it'd taken me so long to get down to breakfast, and I'd told him, gruffly. And then he'd placed the box of tissues by my bed, for whenever it happens again.

He'd had a similar one next to his own, and it suddenly struck me, that it was probably for circumstances like this one. I remember ages ago, when I'd asked him when he'd first started getting a hard penis, and he'd said that it was mostly in his sleep that it'd explode.

Ah. I see now.

Moving over a few feet, I grabbed some napkins from the new tissue box, and leaned out, wiping myself down, and suddenly realizing how soft and nice, and clear my vagina felt on my fingers without the bushy cloud of hair on top. It had been probably over a year and a half since the last time it had been so smooth, ever since I started even growing hair there.

I knew that I had hated it right after Fang had shaved me.. but all of a sudden, it felt quite nice. Nice, and clear, and smooth.. soft.

Hm.. a thought struck me, but I pushed it aside to do some mulling over it later.

I put on a new set of underwear, threw on a pair of jeans, pushed my old pajama pants to the side, left the used tissue on the floor, ready to head downstairs. Right now, the bigger priority was to check up on the flock. I'd clean up my room, my sheets, and my soiled underwear later.

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I walked back upstairs and headed into my room, planning to clean things up a bit. The flock had done fairly well without me, probably because Fang had just kept quiet and eaten his breakfast at the table, while Iggy amused the kids.. however, that wasn't saying that any chores got done either..

I walked into my room, pink walls—thanks a lot Jeb—a small room, but the biggest in the house.

And then I saw that the stained sheets on my queen sized bed were gone, completely flipped off, only the bare mattress with pillows and a comforter left in its wake. The sheets were gone.

Completely confused, I looked around a bit more too. The piece of tissue paper I'd used to clean my crotch up wasn't there either. Befuddled, I walked closer to inspect things around the area. The spoiled underwear was gone too, and so were my old pajamas. I was getting angry.. where the freak were they?

I knew I just left them here.. now where where they?! Looking around my room houndedly, I then suddenly spotted the discarded piece of tissue paper, stained with white fluid cum, that I'd brushed up from my vagina to clean it. It was thrown into the trash can.

Someone had cleaned up for me.

Well.. not precisely.. they hadn't redone the sheets or the bed. The pillows were just lying on the center of the mattress pathetically, as if they'd just pulled the sheets off, and thrown the pillows that had fallen onto the floor, and chucked them at the center of the bed after picking them up off the floor.

I stalked out of my room, my shoulders hunching peevedly, looking around and peeking into Iggy and Gazzy's room first. Nope. They were busy, hunched over some sort of video game in the center of their beds.

Angel was the only one in her and Nudge's room, and she was just brushing her doll's hair and patting her soft plushy elephant fondly down. Seemed innocent enough.

I was just about to check the bathroom for Nudge, when I bumped into a hard, stiff chest, covered in a pitch black shirt with a faded, chipped tore graphic circle on the front. The shirt was old, the graphic chipping off the shirt—cheap too—but the black was still radiant on it, looking just as new, for the exception of the ripping print.

I looked up agitatedly, busy at what I had been doing—searching for Nudge and trying to figure out who had cleaned my room. I looked up to see Fang's face look down at me from his chest.

"Hey Max," he greeted, moving to the side.

"Fang, you know anyone who went into my room?" I asked immediately, my eyebrows furrowed tightly.

Don't get me wrong.. I wasn't all private or anything. Anyone could come and go from my room whenever they pleased—and usually, they did. Gazzy or Angel or Nudge would sometimes just wander in and just sleep with me, or anyone could just come in sometimes to talk with me. It was a very open thing, my room, sort of like a living room, or 'step into the office of Max' or something. It was just that.. it was odd.. for someone to touch my stuff like that.. that certain stuff..

However, Fang hadn't been irritating and wasn't obnoxiously mentioning anything to me so far this morning.. which is what I'd expect him to do if he'd seen my bedsheets or my underwear, but he seemed.. perfectly normal.. perfectly disconcerted.. perfectly, perfect-ly normal. The only strange thing he'd done this morning was take a side-long lingering glance down at my crotch when I'd first walked into the living room—the one that he'd been shaving last night. Regardless,

Regardless, Fang never did his bed.. so why would he touch mine? Not that the person who had touched my bed had actually put on new sheets.. they'd simply just swiped them off..

"Yeah, I cleaned some stuff up for you," he said.

I stared at him for a moment, soaking in the information, before I felt myself becoming angry.

He had touched my room, and cleaned my stuff. I felt my fists ache and then clench, flexing into my palms.

What the freak?!

"Woah, Max, calm down, I just did your sheets for you," he said, bringing his arms up in that universal sign of defense.

Who cares?! HE TOUCHED MY STUFF.

Especially.. all my stain-covered stuff. Now, I felt my face growing red.

"Fang, you don't EVER touch MY STUFF," I let out murderously, "GOT THAT?"

I poked him, hard, in the center of his left shoulder. He fell back a step at the impact. All my anger was taken out on the shove with my index finger, and it was a hard shove. I saw anger flash in his eyes for a moment, before it returned to its regular obsidian black.

Fang was quick about that—going through, sorting his emotions. But just like the rest of us, he got defensive easily.. it was just that, unlike me, he could sort through situations in his head quickly, so his anger changed quickly too, unless he was too tired to think out a circumstance. That was precisely why I needed a second-in-command like him—he tends to often think things out further than me, staying quiet, but inputting his advice where its needed.

Too bad this particular second in command was pissing me off right now. How dare he go through and touch my stuff? The fa-reaking nerve. Its not like I barge into his room all the time and go through his stupid freaking stuff. Who knew what he had in there? Man, I was angry, and it was showing in my inflamed eyes. My mouth opened ludicrously.

"I BETTER NOT SEE YOU GOING THROUGH MY STUFF," I shouted angrily, "EVER AGAIN,"

"In fact, you know what? Just STAY OUT," I amended, "Just don't EVER go into my room, EVER AGAIN," I screamed at him. Loud.

I saw Nudge, startled, scramble up the stairs from the den, to see the loud scene I was making at Fang in the center of the hallway. It had probably flown out downstairs. The walls were thin, afterall. Angel hadn't come out of their room, probably able to hear and assess everything clearly from her mind from within her room, but Iggy and Gazzy had peeked their heads out of their room, their videogame discarded to the side, to stare at us.

Fang was looking down at me emotionlessly. For a second I saw anger flash through his eyes, before an inkling of hurt slowly became apparent, quickly replaced by sheer, utter scrutiny. Thats what I was faced with now—scrutiny.

"THERE ARE THINGS CALLED BOUNDARIES, FANG," I shouted at him, completely oblivious and aware of the kids staring at us, "YOU BETTER START GETTING IT," I finished honestly, turning around, and giving him my back.

My face was red in anger, I was practically seething. I stood there for a moment longer, diagonally facing the side wall of the hallway. It was still and silent for a moment, and I could feel the breathing of everyone around us, Nudge at the top of the stairs, clutching the railing. Gazzy was looking practically frightened, clutching the side of the doorway from which he and Iggy were leaning out of. It was still and silent, and I could still feel Fang standing behind me, in the same place he had been in before.

I was practically seething, I was so frickin' angry.

And suddenly, Fang shoved me, back. He threw me to the floor, and Nudge gasped from down the hallway, still watching us silently.

Yes, sure, Fang and I fight a lot, but never had I gotten so angry at him in front of the kids. For the exception of the childish things we'd had tantrums over back when Jeb was alive, never have I ever evenbeen so angry at him in general, for something serious. This was something with an ultimatum—with the word ever. The kids were getting scared—that this would be something that would last.

And honestly, at the moment, I couldn't say that I cared less. I wanted it to last. I was getting all my frustration out, the culmination of the last few weeks and of last night.. I just wanted it to end. I didn't care for the sake of the flock or anything, anymore. I just wanted it to end. I wanted thistolast. I knew the rest of the flock didn't want it to though.. but the thought didn't strike me right at that moment. I just didn't want him to go into my room ever again.. it seemed like a right wish at that moment.

Fang was getting angry too.. he had shoved me hard, pushing me to the floor. I groggily found myself there.

I groaned slightly at the hard impact, despite the fact that it was carpet, it was thin carpet, and the wood underneath was rusty and hard. I lifted my head up slightly, my elbows bending, to bring my head up, and looked up to see him staring up at me, murder written in his eyes.

That was another thing about Fang—he got angry when people got angry, when he thought he wasn't allowed to be angry-ed at. Huh. Yup. He gets really angry. Excuse the lack of proper syllables and conjugation. My head wasn't quite working exact at the moment, what with the fact of being hit onto the floor and all.

Fang stepped over and bent over me, the kids were still all watching us. Angel had daintily peeked out of her room too, her feet light as a petal on the grass, but I'd still heard it nevertheless. I looked up at him with a hard, disgusted, angry, hateful glare. He was now bent over me, his feet on either sides of me, but hovering over me, his forearms resting on his bent knees. He was looking down at me angrily, everything written on his apathetic face. Only I could see it and feelit radiating out to me.

My body was twisted beneath him, I was half laying on my side, the way I had fallen on the impact, but twisted up in my efforts to get up. He looked down on me condescendingly, observing me for a moment. I watched his eyes slip down for a second to assess my boobs casually and disinterestedly, before moving back up to look me in the face. I continued to glare at him defiantly. Matching my glare with an uncaring one of his own, he bent his head forward, his elbows still jutting hard onto his knees as he got closer to me.

"You're just mad cause you had all that over your sheets.." he said quietly to me, his gaze unwavering and looking like he had had the epitome of right.

"But I was just trying to help.. and getting that stuff isn't easy," he said, "...I should know."

"I would've been able to do it," I gritted out, my face looking like the epitome of anger. I stared up at him with an ugly grimace sprayed on my face.

"Whatever you say.. you're just embarrassed," he whispered out louder, and then lower again, "I wonder what you were thinking about in your dream.."

I flushed. He knew.. I knew he knew. What that white stuff was.. I had known he'd be able to know.. which was all the more worse that he'd gone into my room. That frickin dumbass.

"That.. was a lot of cum on your panties.. for a girl.." he whispered out, close to my ear, so not even the kids would be able to hear. What a sexist pig..But there wasn't a lecherous smirk apparent on his face that I expected to be coupled with that sentence. He instead just gave me another angry glare as he slowly bent his knees up straight. His legs still standing on either sides of me on the floor, he looked down at me from his full height, his gaze unwavering, and angry.

"Wait, you had what all over your sheets?" Iggy's voice asked us, breaking us out of our glare, out of our silent reverie.

My face suddenly paled as I realized that all the kids had been standing there for the while. Not that I didn't know before.. it just.. didn't register. Oh, crap. I wondered what they'd gotten out of this conversation.

Fang suddenly jerked his head straight up from me. Facing Iggy in surprise, his eyes seemed to widen. It seemed that it had slipped his mind too, as he looked around the hallway, his legs still standing on either side of me, as if finally noticing that all the kids that had been watching us screaming at eachother. Fang looked even more angry now.. nearly as if, embarrassed now.. to be screamed at in front of the kids.

Oh, shit.

Thats a naughty word, I heard a voice call out to me. Angel. Oh, great.

Great, great, great. Thanks a lot Fang. Fang suddenly jerked his head back down to shoot me another glare, almost as if he knew I was undoubtedly unreasonably blaming him for everything, in my head, right now.

Fang looked up at Iggy, dragging his eyes away from me face with a warning glance in his eyes, before responding to him.

"Nothing important," he casually said, "All the more reason why getting angry, is ludicrous," he stated succinctly, giving me a pointed glare below, with a jerk of his neck pointed at me.

I felt myself grow angry all over again. I bent up slightly at the waist, and threw a chop down in the inside of the left shin with the side of my left hand. Hard. He obviously didn't see that coming, and it was a hard hit, sharp as a knife. He jerked down to the side next to me in the sudden impact, groaning hard, and clutching his leg, just as I had bent up to look down on him. I put my foot on his side for a second, before he threw me another jerk on my ankle in order to get my foot off of him, hurting me greatly although I refused to let it show. I automatically jerked my foot off of him, and stared down at him from the floor.

"Someones' been reading the dictionary," I stated snidely, throwing him another glare before turning around. In an afterthought, I decided to speak.

"Oh.. and you too, Iggy," I started quietly, "There are boundaries. Don't touch me like that, ever again, unless you really want to get hurt," I seethed out threateningly.

I walked away, everyone in the hallway looking terrified of me. Most particularly, it was the kids, considering Fang just had an incredulous, absolutely grudge filled look on his face, whilst Iggy's was just simply confused.

I felt like taking a flight.

God, I was having issues.

A/N:

Eh..

The title describes my thoughts for this chapter.. U-bleh..

As for the beginning.. as most of you know, I'm absolutely inexperienced in any of these such matters.. (obviously, considering my age), in fact, I don't think I ever will be. See, thats the funny thing about me. I write for a challenge, which is why I'm writing stories like this and my other one (hello? Child porn and incest?).

So why is it a challenge? Because.. well, frankly, I'm a prude. O_o Its true. Might as well get it out there. I'm really, just, sort of a prude. So in saying that I'm inexperienced, I will probably stay that way, for a long, long, portion of my life. I don't really approve of half the stuff I write, in reality—hence, the 'challenge' of me writing it. Prude. (Eh. But who knows? Perhaps I'm just a closet pervert..)

Anyway, so the first part of that chapter, technically I only wrote some of it. (the part where is Max's dream). Then I sent it over to my beta reader and they changed it completely. Its okay though, its just not my style. Its also pretty graphic for me.. lol..

Oh, On another note. Realized I've never credited anyone on this thing. James Patterson made the flock and the kids and the story. I only skewed up his story, dissected it, and then perverted it completely for your entertainment.

Anyway, next update is gonna be at 1150 reviews. Meh. Later.