Chapter 6

The morning after the "text message incident," Cartman awoke to a rapping on his window. Well that's not quite true. In actuality, he opened his eyes halfway before turning over and throwing the pillow over his head so he could get a few more minutes of sleep. He had stayed up way too late the night before trying to forget how pissed he was about giving into his weakness- he had to go kill something on his game system- shooting down aliens until the sky started getting lighter and the stars began to disappear. 'Shit,' he had thought, 'I have to get up tomorrow- have to talk to her...FUCK, what am I even doing!' His anger got the best of him and it took him another hour of shooting minorities in GTA 4 before he could even think of sleep.

Wendy smiled, somewhat unkindly, seeing him do this and waited until he had stopped moving. She'd climbed up his tree (the one that seemed to grow next to every house in South Park for some reason) with her "present" in a small box under her arm. She was breathless with anticipation and fear. What if he woke up? Was she really going to do this? Her cheeks turned red when she thought of what he had...MADE...her do the night before, and clenched her fist, steadying her feet on the branches. She checked the window, sliding it up quietly with her free hand. There was a moment when it squeaked briefly and her heart went silent, blood running cold with fear. But he only turned over, still asleep, snorting as he moved. She only needed to get the window open just enough to lightly toss the box in the window, lightly landing on the lower end of the bed between his splayed-out legs.

'Perfect,' she thought smugly, noting that it had landed with the small pink silk bow facing up. It was an extra touch that would GUARANTEE he'd open it when he woke up.

She took one last look and couldn't keep herself from looking up past his legs, and blushing madly when she realized that there was a tell-tale lump at groin level. Flustered and feeling a hot line traveling all the way down to her vaginal lips, she shut the window harder than she would have otherwise liked, hoping that he wouldn't wake up until she had finally made her escape. God damn him, she was going to have to get home quickly before she couldn't control herself anymore.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

"Ughhhh," Cartman wasn't happy about waking up to his alarm, even though it played the Terrance and Philip theme song and always ended with a hilarious fart solo. He sat up, rubbing his head and brushing his hair out of his eyes with his fingers. Through sleep-filled sight, his eyes alighted on the box, which was now pushing up against his thigh. His stomach lurched a bit in confusion and anticipation.

"And what do we have here?" he spoke to the empty room as he bent over at the waist as best he could (NO, NOT FAT, JUST BIG BONED, he reminded himself for the millionth time), and grabbed it in one hand by the bow, holding it up close to his face suspiciously. First he sniffed it. No, it definitely wasn't shit, like that time that Stan had left him that flaming box of dog poo on his front porch after he had made fun of his gay dog yet again. Actually...he knew that smell...it was her. His morning erection twitched at the thought, and he practically smacked himself with annoyance. He pinched his thumb and forefinger together at one end of the bow and gingerly pulled the bow apart, untying the ribbon and rolling it up onto his bedside table. He opened the box cautiously, and peered inside.

It was a pair of panties.

"Holy shit!" he shouted, tossing them to the floor in surprise. His eyes were like saucers. What the hell was she thinking? How the hell did she get-holyshitholyshitholyshit!

But then he realized that he had just thrown them (WENDY'S PANTIES ZOMG) on the floor and immediately jumped off the bed to get them back. They were so soft in his hand. Upon closer observation, her panties were small, simple and black, cut in a string bikini style. The elastic on one side was starting to unravel, revealing a small hole where the elastic and the material was beginning to come apart. They smelled like her in an earthy almost spicy way. It was then that his body ached for her in a way that it never had before. No...he was supposed to have won the freak out game with his cock pic, why was this making him feel so crazy?

His brain began to spin, and he couldn't help himself. He rubbed the panties against his stiff cock, feeling the soft cotton rub against the head, making him twitch with glee. He knew that it was so fucking wrong- here he was rubbing his cock against the crotch of her panties- panties that were obviously stained with her vaginal juices. He wanted to wash his cock in this smell, this smell that was unique to her and her alone, and so what if he had stopped really focusing, so what if he was late to classes, all he wanted to do was imagine how it would feel to dry-hump against her while she was wearing these, move the crotch apart and slide his cock against the wetness underneath, push his bare cock deep inside of her and make her his so she would never, ever be able to get away again.

This was not the way he wanted to start his morning- his anger flared at the thought that she could have this much power over him. He hated his passion, the "other head" between his legs, growing turgid with vengeance from the moment he had hit puberty as though to match his anger and hatred at minorities, religious people, and fucking stupid-ass hippies. He got on his knees, burying his face in the pillow, ass up in the air and pulled down his pajama pants to his thighs. He moaned low when his hand, seemingly without any conscious thought on his part, wrapped the panties around the length of his cock, sliding them around it, up and down in that familiar rhythm, filling his mind with that white light of pleasure that he couldn't get any other way.

"Ahh, fuuuuuuuuuuuck," he groaned into his pillow, quickening his pace-his cock felt like was on fire with pleasure.

He started to hold his breath, feeling the build-up caressing him as his testicles drew out and away from his body, getting ready to pump cum futilely out onto soft cotton. When he thought he couldn't feel any more, he felt his balls contracting harshly, his cock pulsating quickly as it pumped out a good-sized load of semen all over the panties. They were soaked (for a second time) but he didn't care. He had originally wanted to torture her to freak her out the only way he knew how, to get his car and send her own her dumb ass hippy way so he didn't have to look at her stupid face ever again. But now...

Things were changing. And he didn't like it one bit.