Chapter Two: Reminiscence
Carly's eyes blinked wearily. Her whole body felt- for lack of a better term- fucked. (She was a proper young lady who did not use foul language, but it was accurate.)
Yeah. Her time with Freddie had not been what she had expected. Oddly enough, she had been expecting it. When she was a girl, at those dances with her dad, Carly was under the impression that her love would dance with her, dine with her, then send her to bed happy.
After watching several cheesy romantic films, that impression evolved. It seemed then, that the boy would be a good-looking sweet man who knew her heart even better than she, and would kiss her as they took off their shirts. The next thing would be waking up the next day in warm sunshine, happily in each other's arms.
This ended when Sam explained her first time.
Carly was aware of the biology of it, just not the intensity. Just like everything else, certain things had to be experienced to understand. She looked around stupidly, trying to remember what she was doing.
Eventually the girl- no woman- decided to make herself comfortable. Any minute now, Freddie, old Freddie, not the monster who took his place, would walk in with a cheesy smile the size of the west coast and breakfast for her.
Yeah. Carly sorted herself a little too quickly. Her left hip, which had felt considerable strain the night before, popped. Ouch. She pushed her fingertips across the headboard (the last time she had done that…) lacing her fingers together, she cracked her knuckles, then tensed her forearms, straightening her elbows, (ouch) to her biceps which were cramped. Carly rolled her shoulders and grunted with soreness. Her arms had been used poorly the previous night- trying to keep Freddie from completely assaulting her.
Letting her arms flop, the young woman started on her toes, curling and uncurling, straightening like a ballerina, then bringing them back. Her calves twinged alive, complaining that they were stiff. Her thighs were the worst complainers of all, simultaneously sending pain and pleasure to her brain.
Carly worked the soreness out slowly. Her hands drifted to her chest. Freddie had been enamored by her there. He had spent a great deal of time attending her. The second her hands grazed the sensitive flesh, it instantly reacted to her. She yelped. Rubbing her tingling fingertips across the mounds, she worked out some of the pain. Once again pain meant pleasure. Soon, all traces of discomfort were eradicated from her breasts.
When she brought her knees up, her buttocks twitched like iron bars with drilled in. Ouch. The girl rubbed her backend before bringing her limbs to the front. Her fingers nestled between her thighs.
"Ouch! Ow, ouch, owie, ow, wow, ow!" She stopped touching herself. Small tears of pain welled in her eyes. Okay, maybe this was too much for now. Still, Freddie would be here any second to kiss and make her better.
Oh, Carly would make him blush. The second he tiptoed in (so as not to wake his princess) she would call him to her, and have him worship her- properly this time. He could not be gone yet. They had so little time.
It could not be done already.
Carly drew the sheets around her. He would be so embarrassed, so red as he kissed her foot, then her calves. Freddie would make his way slowly up her body before she would let him have access to her lips. Gentle lips…
She was ready. Freddie would look at her and burn. Feet pounded on the steps, "Freddie?"
It sounded like an army, "Freddie, what's going on?"
The door burst open, "FBI!"
Carly brightened tomato red, soreness forgotten, and flew underneath the sheets.