Thanks for all the sexariffic feedback, it's um thinks sexariffic. Seriously, you all rock for taking the time to leave the stuff.

The lyrics at the beginning are from the Oasis song "What's The Story, Morning Glory".

Chapter 8

All your dreams are made,
When you're chained to the mirror and the razor blade,
Today's the day that all the world will see,
Another sunny afternoon,
Walking to the sound of my favourite tune,
Tomorrow never knows what it doesn't know too soon

Present Day.

My body stutters as I lead Ashley towards the stairs, naturally going to my room to study, wont it be weird, having her in my room again, after all this time? I want to turn and ask her if it's okay, but that would probably make the situation more awkward. I'm such a loser. I hot-foot it up the stairs, hearing Ashley doing the same behind me, I push my bedroom door open, eyes scanning over the empty room. God I hope I don't have anything embarrassing laying on the floor, like underwear, or porn. I twitch as I imagine Ashley finding my modest collection of lesbian themed movies. That would be a bottom-clenching conversation to have with my former best friend who probably thinks I'm a weirdo anyway,

"Wow Spencer, I didn't realize you had such an eclectic selection of movies, hmm what do we have here; Lesbian Spank Inferno and Debbie Does A Strap-On 7."

I'd never say I was a porn connoisseur, but I do like to watch the stuff. I don't take it seriously, well not all of it, I'm a fan of pornographic spoofs such as Lucky Number 69, Great Sexpectations and the lesser-knownThe Merchant of Penis. As they always seem to provide a good laugh, although most porn is usually found to be funny anyway. I, of course, also use pornography for its' intended purpose; as a masturbatory aid. But anyway, as I was saying, even though I enjoy a good skin flick, I wouldn't want Ashley finding my adult DVD's.

I hold the door open for Ashley as she walks in, her eyes cautiously peering around my room. I flick the lights on and gesture for her to sit by my desk, she pulls the chair out from under and plonks her bag on the floor as she sits down, waiting for me to join her. I give her a half smile as I sit down on the seldom-used chair next to her, unsure of how to actually tutor someone; I guess we'll just work it out as we go along.

"So, um, maths…" my voice sounds weak and I know it's going to be a long evening.

She looks nervous and her hands shake as she turns the pages in her mathematics textbook, her bottom lip getting caught between her teeth as she searches for the pages to correspond with our homework.

I pick through my bag, grabbing my exercise book and glasses case, leaving my pen tin and textbook behind; I'll just use hers. She's still flipping through the pale pages of "Maths Key Skills Level 7" as I push my glasses up my nose, hearing her utter a triumphant, "Uhhuh!" as she finds the correct page. Spencer grins at me then looks away sharply, a crimson blush shading her cheeks, as I look at her – looking away guiltily, blushing as if she had just been caught with her hand in the cookie jar – the desire to kiss her fiercely builds inside of me, in a way I haven't felt for years. Only this time I would know what to do next, and how to kiss her, in the characteristically French way.

She turns back to me, her eyes shining with the honest intention to help me with my learning difficulties.

"I uh, I didn't know you wore glasses." Her voice is more mature then I remember it being, but bar the odd little sentences we've exchanged in the last few days, I haven't heard her speak for over three and a half years.

I subconsciously go cross-eyed, as if she had just told me that there was a frog sitting on the end of my nose, I cough, insecure about my weakened sight, "Yeah, just for reading and using the computer and that sort of stuff, otherwise you know; I can't see," she blushes at little as I speak, her eyes darting a little, "I try not to wear them because they make me look like a dork."

"Oh no, no! They don't in fact, they make you look even more beautiful, and…" She trails off, her cheeks a deep crimson colour, her eyes bulging at the compliment that seemed to need no encouragement to fly out of her mouth. "I um, er, I, I mean that. You, um, should wear them more often because, uh, you know if you need them. Be-because otherwise it's bad for your eyes. Right?" She looks away and drops her head, her shoulders slumping, oblivious to how ridiculously adorable she is. In that moment I want nothing more than to reach over, push her head up, making her lock eyes with me, and fuck her senseless. Okay, maybe not that crudely, but I want her so much I can almost feel her lips on mine and taste her tongue as it would roll over my own.

I softly clear my throat, "So, were should we start?"

With her head still hung low, she looks like she's mentally berating herself, she lets out a shaky breath, "Um, I guess with tonight's homework. Uh, I'll see how you get on with it – question by question – that way I can figure out what your main problem is."

As she speaks I resist the urge to rest my hand on her thigh, my curiosity on how her jean-clad limb would feel underneath my palm as I gently squeezed, almost too much to bear. Swallowing hard, I grab a biro from on top of her desk and start to work on the first equation, Spencer watching over my shoulder the entire time.

I fight the urge to rest my chin on her shoulder, and I continue to peer over, my eyes locked on the mess of scribbles, incorrect mathematics and sums.

"Okay, so what does x squared equal?"

She chews on her bottom lip and she thinks, the biro in her hand carelessly tapping against the side of her chin, "Four?"

I sigh, for what seems like the thousandth time that evening, "No, no, x squared equals sixteen. You see because y is four." I explain pointing at the equation question we're currently on.

Her brow creases as she mulls over what I've just said and I know that she's doing the sums in her head, "Oh yeah, I think I get it."

"You think you get it?" I tease, lightly jabbing at her sides.

"Okay, okay, I get it."

"Good," I smile, "and finally; number twenty five."

"Right: x plus y equals seventeen, y minus eight equals one. What is the value of x?" I grin at the thoughtful voice she's using.

She starts to right her working down, when the obnoxious sound of her ring tone breaks through the comforting silence in my bedroom, God I hate Sexy Back. Seriously it's not just the most annoying song of last year, but the pain-in-the-arse jokes that it sparked too, and every airhead bimbo that's echoed that they "brought sexy back." JT needs to die for that abomination. Better yet, he needs to be cock-dropped for it.

Ashley grabs her phone, her eyes rolling as she quickly checks the caller display, flipping the phone open she starts to talk.

Suddenly feeling uncomfortable in my room, and not wanting to eavesdrop on her conversation, I excuse myself to go and get a drink, pulling the door ajar as I leave.

"Yeah, uh-huh…. Yeah, I know I said that I'd call…. I didn't realize what time is was…. Yeah, sorry. There's nothing Earth shattering you wanted to tell me was there? Hmm." I let him ramble on, droning on about basketball and something about a bench?

My fingers idly roll over Spencer's desk, curiously opening one of the draws I clock the tidy mess that lies within; a few pens, a large pad of paper, a sponge for some reason and general clutter. I "uh-huh" into the phone once more as I lightly pluck a photograph from under a book, it's the type that you get from instant photoboths, the kind where you have four separate photographs each taken at five second intervals. I know I'm smiling as I regard the two girls in the photos, it's Spencer and myself about seven years ago. In the first photo, we're both innocently smiling widely at the camera, in the second, Spencer is still facing the camera, but I've turned to look at her, my heart gives a little squeeze as I look at the third image, Spencer is still looking forward, but I've apparently forgotten the camera and have just pressed my lips to her cheek. In the forth image I've pulled back a little, but I'm still staring at Spence', and she's blushing furiously, her large grin even larger, her face angling towards mine. I sigh down the phone, quickly thrusting the paper into my schoolbag.

Aiden is still blathering into my ear as I tell him that I've got to go and I'll see him tomorrow, my free hand pushing the draw closed as Spencer walks back into the room holding a glass of juice.

I waste no time in gathering up the rest of my belongings as I thank Spencer for her help and say that I'll see her at school, she looks disappointed but smiles at me anyway.

---------

I lay in bed bored, one hand rests between my head and my pillow and the other is playing with the flapping curtain to my side, the breeze from the open window fluttering across my exposed flesh, leaving my skin tingling with a pleasurable chill. Sighing, I think back to my afternoon, walking to Spencer's house, our comfortable first tutoring session and then Aiden ruining it. I sigh again and light scratch my stomach, Aiden and Spencer always seem to get in the way of each other, with neither realizing. I wonder if she knew, I wonder if there was something in my eyes that gave it away? Something that screamed, "When my boyfriend fucks me, I think about you." I doubted it, at least, I hoped not. Although more recently I've been thinking about Sophia Bush between my legs instead of Aiden, but that's only because I didn't know Spencer was still around.

Spencer was the first girl I ever wanked over though, and she was whom I thought of the first time I had Aiden inside of me, I think that proves my love for her. I roll my eyes at the idea.

He slowly pushes into me and I want to squirm, but I know it will only make me ache more, someone should really explain to Aiden what lubricant is for. Seriously Aiden, lube; it's not your enemy.

It hurts, having him inside me; it feels uncomfortable and unnatural.

"You know, if it were me, I'd make you cum so hard you wouldn't even be able to remember your own name." Her eyes dance with mirth as she speaks, her nose nuzzling into my neck.

"But I'd tease you first, I'd make you beg with want." She husks directly into my ear, her fingertips lightly trailing over my tummy, "We'd both know what I was going to do, but I'd make you wait," she sighs, "I'd make myself wait. I'd be teasing myself as much as you, your body screaming to be touched and pleased, my body screaming to touch and please you."

She kisses my cheek, sighing as she tentatively slips a finger into me, "You'd be so wet, so wet for me, your body telling me that I was the one for you. The one arousing you." She slowly thrusts the finger in and out of me, her eyes fixed on my face, watching my reactions.

"Then I'd add another finger," as she speaks I feel another thin digit slipping into my wet heat, "going slightly faster, pushing slightly deeper," she holds my face in place, her eyes penetrating my soul as her fingers penetrate my body.

"You'd ask me for more, you'd whimper for a third finger," She laughs softly, "you'd beg for me to touch your clit."

I gulp, my voice wavering as I start to speak, "P-please Spencer, th-three fingers?" Her sapphire eyes darken with lust as she adds a third finger, probing deeper, "Anything to you, Ashley, anything you want."

My eyes close, the feelings Spencer's sparking in me too powerful to keep my heavy eyelids open, "An-anything?"

"Anything." She sounds so strong and confident, "You want me to make you cum Ashley, it's okay, say it."

"Fuck Spencer, just make me... ah crap! Make me cum, I don't care how, just don't stop what you're doing, if feels so good." Her laugher dances in my ears and I finish speaking, well I say speaking, it's more like whimpered pleading.

My eyes roll back in my head as I feel a firm digit stroke over my harden clit, I beg her not to stop, my voice low a muttered.

"I'm sorry." Her voice is so clear, her fingers stilling within me, "it's time to go back to reality."

Huh?

"Maybe I'll really make you beg for it one day."

He goes limp, falling against me, his sweat making my skin itch. "That was amazing, that, phew, that was the best sex ever. We should win an award for that. Wow."

That was possibly the worst sex had by anyone, anywhere, ever.

He rolls off of me and grins up at the ceiling, "You were great, babe."

I hate the word babe, really how does it pass as a term of endearment? The only thing worse than babe is "baby", it makes my skin crawl.

I laugh sardonically to myself; after he left that night I fingered myself into a frenzy, craving Spencer, aching to feel her inside of me. I might not have gotten to find out what it felt like to have my former friend moving inside of me, but I did at least make myself climax, my right hand more skilled than Aiden's winkie.

That was the first of many "practice sessions" for my nimble little fingers, they've gotten much more action since, ending up in various different women all across LA. I wonder what it would be like to finger Spencer.

I admit it, I have a filthy mind, really it's crude up there. I've lost count of the amount of times I've watched girls in Grey, silently speculating about how many fingers I'd easily be able to fit inside of them. Pervy as fuck, I know, but it's more interesting than listening to Aiden prattle on about basketball and weight lifting.

As I lay here I can't help but imagine her flawless face, scrunching up in pleasure as I use my tongue to bring her to an Earth-shattering climax. I'd fuck her to within one inch of her life, as she'd love every minute of it. I softly shake my head, I might be dirtier than most would expect, but I'm even worse at the moment, and it makes my stomach tingle with shame.

Sigh. Before I even realize what I'm doing, my fingers have slipped past the waistband of my boxer shorts and I'm rubbing my swollen nub, all the while thinking of Spencer. Her azure eyes sparkling, her lower lip caught between her pearly white teeth, her head disappearing between my legs and my own rolling back against my pillow.

---

I carelessly wipe my fingers on my boxers, coming down from my self-induced high. Yawning I sit up in bed and swing my legs over the side, slowly making my way over to my computer, my bottom swiftly coming into contact with my desk chair, I should really go to sleep soon.

I check my email, deleting my new messages – information on cheap Valium and how to enlarge my penis; fascinating spam. Really, I don't know how I could possibly go one day without getting messages about my smaller than average penis?

I stifle a yawn, changing websites, half naked women adorning my screen, I quickly key something into the search box and within seconds two blonde girls are bouncing around and exchanging bodily fluids. I rub my eyes, closing my browser and shutting my computer down; it's all so pedestrian.

I stand up, listening to my knees pop and click, and someone is rapping on my door. I yawn again, opening the door, it's two in the morning and Glen is fidgeting in front of me, he's wearing boxers and a t-shirt, just like me, siblings in our pyjamas.

"What do you want, Cheese-Head?"

He rolls his eyes at the nickname that I lovingly gave him when we were seven, "Madison."

Well, lucky Madison, "What about her?"

"Stop being such a moron, doofus…" Like that even makes sense.

"…You're a doofus." I inform him, cutting into what he was saying.

"Ash', I'm too tired for this. I just," he shifts from one foot to the other, "I need your help," he twitches, obviously uncomfortable, "I kinda, sorta, really like Madison."

I roll my eyes, "And you kinda, sorta, really want me to talk to her about you?" I mimic, knowing that I'm pissing him off, and rightly so, it is my sisterly duty after all.

Glen clears his throat, "Kinda, yeah. Like maybe set us up on a date?" He looks hopeful and it's kind of sweet, in a really disgusting way.

"Sure, whatever. I'll talk to her at school later." He grins like a little boy who's just been given a bowl of sugar-cubes. "Is that all, Cheese-Head?"

He nods happily, throwing a "Thanks" over his should as he turns and walks off to his own bedroom. And I go to bed, knowing that it won't be long before I'm asleep.