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?
Chapter Twenty-Four: Are You Bored?
It'd been a week since I'd had that sexist pig epiphany. —and to think I woulda trusted those guys with my freaking butt.. or chest.. or anything. I dunno. It was all so confusing at this point as well. Iggy certainly didn't seem all that perverted around me, but what he'd said to Fang.. it was.. contrary..
Tits. Ugh. I just shuddered and even blushed at the thought. Those are like..what cows had, weren't they? Was that a compliment or something?
I looked down to observe my boobs, assessing them strategically, but not knowing what to think or say. Were they.. nice? My wet hair was drooping down onto my shoulders all brown-like and stuff. I reached with my hand to cup my right breast, as I observed it closer from up above in the shower. Tits. Ugh. God, I still couldn't help but shudder at the thought. They'd gotten more.. weird shapely, since I'd started wearing a bra.. they started curving upwards, looking more rounded to me. The shower water kept splattering down on me throughout the meanwhile.
Slowly, and carefully, I brought my hand around from cupping in it to touch the little extended nub of my nipple. I pressed it in once or twice. Sometimes it was large, and sometimes it wasn't. Either way, my bra covered it when it was large, which was a good thing, a societally acceptable thing, I presumed.
Curiously, I brought two fingers down on the extended thing to press down and squeeze it. I did it slowly, I did it hard, and immediately I felt a stinging sensation down in my crotch.
Ugh, I should stop this. Remember, I said I wouldn't think about this stuff. I don't need to feel that way down there.. all it did was remind of Fang and that strange feeling he'd left me hanging with and made me feel that way.. that day.
"Thats where.. my penis is supposed to go," is what he'd said that day in Iggy's room, his fingers hovering over that bloodied spot on my vagina, tantalizingly rubbing up and down above it. I hadn't dared to touch it myself down there, but those words had still been echoing inside my head since.
"Thats where my penis is supposed to go," Fang had said, while touching an area on my vagina curiously. His penis.
I didn't have the nerve to touch any place down there.. but.. I slowly brought my hand around to hover on the bushy field of a dark mess on my pelvis. A pointer finger lightly pointing inwards to me, I spoke to myself in my mind.. thats where.. his penis is supposed to go.. inside me..?
His penis.. He meant.. for sex, right?
He meant.. he and I, having sex.. with each other? His penis.. there..?
"Thats where my penis is supposed to go," he had said, his hands resting gently on two spots on my vagina.
He had been teaching me.. slowly, gently, and carefully... that day. He had explained to me what sex was.. puberty, his erections, why I got my periods.. and then pointed out sex that night on the bed.. clearly. But he'd said his penis, was supposed to go in there, to explain to me clearly how sex was supposed to be.
That thats how we'd have sex.. How we'd have sex.. with one another.. With his penis.. here, in my vagina. Thats what he'd said.. that we'd have sex together, someday..
GOSH. What was he thinking?!
His penis in my vagina?! He said he was supposed to put his penis in that empty spot in my vagina?! He said we were going to have sex together?! That he was going to—supposed, to put his penis inside of my vagina and pump up and down?
I hurriedly tore myself from the shower, realizing that these thoughts were no good. I jumped out of the shower and hurriedly threw on a bra, panties, and a large t-shirt, with an overflowing pair of pajamas on me, working fast so as to take my mind off of things.
Afterall, he was probably just saying it figuratively, and not personally related to me.
My hair was still damp as I walked out into the living room from the upstairs shower, and my face was still red too, but I was hoping that it'd pass with the drenched shower look I was totally 'sportin' ?
I sat down on the floor in the den, leaning against the bottom of a couch Nudge was lying her stomach ontop of, whilst perusing through another magazine. Sometimes I wondered whether or not those would eventually come to be a bad influence on her..
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A while had passed. Nudge had fallen asleep on the sofa.. I told Igs to bring her upstairs, and he did so, looking sorta sleepy himself. Gazzy was probly already out, and Angel was hanging out with her stuffed animals in her secluded little corner of a bed, until she too, would probably fall down.
I was still sitting there, feeling sort of dazed out. My damp hair had dried out a while ago, although it was still looking pretty scraggly behind me. I leaned my head back onto the knee-bend of the couch, looking up thoughtlessly and aimlessly, still sitting on the floor of the den, and leaning on the couch Nudge had been lying on.
It was silent for a moment. A nice type of silent.
"Are you bored?" I heard Fang's voice lightly ask me at some point. I looked over to him and cocked my mouth to one side, honestly thinking about it. He was casually slouched onto an armchair adjacent to me.
I wasn't precisely bored—it was hard to bored when you were just normally so busy. I was enjoying the time, but did I have anything particular to do? No. I wondered why he was asking. Fang usually never asked things for no reason or just for menial conversation. I don't even think he even knows how to menially converse, it suddenly amusedly struck me. I looked up at him with a grin on my face at the thought, and were he more expressive, a look of skeptical confusion would be written on there.
"So?" He asked again, cocking an eyebrow up a little questioningly. There was a mischievous twinkle on my face as I silently jestered at him in my head, the reason still unbeknownst to him.
"Sure," I replied, smile still on my face. Fang was so stupid and silly sometimes, especially with his lack of real defining facial expressions in oft frequency. He stood up from the other armchair at my answer then. He observed my stupidly grinning face bemusedly for a moment, before deciding to look past it.
"Let's go then," he said, giving me a slight glance before turning around.
I stared at him confusedly for a moment, before getting up with a groan, and following him. I wondered what he wanted to show me.
By the time I had slowly gotten up and gotten upstairs to follow him, he'd already seemed to have had time to change.
I reached the top steps to see light pouring out into the hallway from an open door on the left side of the hallway, door open ajar, from which he was leaning out of, staring at me. He had changed into looser, more laid back clothing, wearing a plain white t-shirt, cotton and as thin as light. It seemed be just a light undershirt or something of his, and a small white towel was also slung on top of his left shoulder.
I walked towards him curiously, since the room he was leaning of was, afterall, the bathroom.
He saw me coming towards and turned around and went back into the bathroom. By the time I had reached inside, I saw him leaning over the sink and looking into the mirror.. rather vainly. I stifled a laugh as I watched him. He was rubbing his cheeks and the sides of his jaws down over and over again, inspecting his face thoroughly. He saw me watching him from the mirror and then turned around, the towel still hanging on the side of his shoulder.
"So," he started casually. I looked at him amusedly.
"You look clean," I said honestly, a smirk on my face. He returned it rather wryly.
"I'll show you how to shave," he said with half a shrug.
Oh. So thats why he looked so clean—he'd just freshly shaved the few stray hairs around his jawline and upper lip.
Oh. He'd asked me if I was bored cause he could show me how to shave. Wait, that didn't make sense though. He had just already shaved, right?
He walked over to me, the towel still hanging off his shoulder, his back lean and straight, a good four inches taller than me. Woah. Since when did that happen? Last time I checked it was only two. Darn those growth spurts. The books at the library had said guys grew like weeds at this point in development. Darn it.
He broke me out of my thoughts by putting a hand on my shoulder and nudging me to the tub, his navy dark checkered baggy pajama pants loose around his feet.
"So, uh, get in," he said. I shrugged and stepped in, standing there for just a moment expectantly, wondering what he was about to do. It was right next to the doorway and he quietly nudged it shut behind him with the back of his heel before moving back towards me again in the tub. He urged me to sit down inside the dry white tub.
"I'll do it first, to show you," he said.
I nodded, curious.
I really had just wondered how to shave. Afterall, I knew Iggy didn't like doing it, cause he said he was lazy, and that Fang did it every morning and sometimes in the afternoon, if he wanted to, or was bored.
It was curious how they managed to get the hair off. (Even though, only temporary, as evidenced by all that random scruff on Iggy's face). Sometimes I'd see little tiny cuts on his face, although Fang didn't have them anymore, like he did in the first two weeks, nor Iggy anymore.
I wondered why, and I wanted to see.
I sat down, waiting expectedly, looking up, and wondering why I needed to sit here. Maybe he needed space.
Much to my surprise, I followed him with my eyes as he lifted his legs and stepped into the tub with me, sitting down across from me. The confused look on my face gave it away.
"Why're we here?" I asked him confusedly once he had gotten in. Afterall, we were in the tub, and were fully dressed, having no intention of removing our clothes. I didn't want to be in the shower with him undressed.. uh, certainly not.
Sitting across from, his knees bent up awkwardly and uncomfortably, my own folded up criss-crossed ones in the tub, he faced me with level eyes.
"I'm going to do it for you," he said, referencing shaving. I was skeptical at this point. His jaw was completely clean, and his face looked fresh, by now.
"So, show me," I quipped in response, confused, and growing a bit impatient. He had already shaved, how was he supposed to show me?
"Take off your pants and your underwear," he said, still looking at me normally. I raised an eyebrow.
"Why?" I challenged him, taken aback.
"I'm shaving you," he elaborated, looking quite irritated.
"Wait, what?! Why?!" I exclaimed, my hands automatically going up to the sides of the tub to propel me out at any second. I thought he was just going to do it on himself to show me.
"Cause I have to show you somehow, don't I?" he continued, looking incredulous.
Sometimes I got the feeling that he thought I was the dumbest person in the world.
"And you can hurt yourself the first time," he added.
Oh. I didn't want to be bleeding all over, like the first time I'd seen him try. I looked at him with a hostile gaze, untrusting, but relenting, my curiosity overwhelming me.
"What're you going to shave?" I asked him cautiously after a moment. Afterall, as far as I knew, I didn't have any prominent patches of facial hair, like he did.
"Your um.. your," he gestured weakly to the center of the point in which my legs met one another.
Ugh, really? I looked up at him bregudgingly for a moment, but he seemed unphased by my glare, his eyes and his eyebrows still level as they stared at mine.
Nevertheless, my curiosity overwhelmed me.
He had seen me that day I had gotten my first period. He knew I'd had hair there.
Giving him another begrudged look, I uncrossed my legs tightly and got up out of the tub, propelling myself on my arms outside of the tub. I stepped out, his eyes still following me, and slid down my pants and my underwear, not bending down and giving him a better view, just simply stepping out of them.
Sliding them down, I got sight of the dark hairy mess on my pelvic bone and noticed it for a moment, before I resignedly stepped back into the tub. The cool air of the tiled bathroom walls at night sent a chill through my legs, most pointedly on my crotch, as I automatically felt it slightly wetten more than before.
Still giving him the glare, I sat back down in the tub. His face was apathetic and absolutely unchanged from before, despite the fact that I was sitting across from him undressed from the lower hips down now. His eyes were apathetic and emotionless as he looked at me a moment more before getting straight to work.
Moving his eyes down from my own, he placed one hand on my knees in the tub, while the other reached down, his neck twisting, as he looked down to grab something from some stuff he'd left at the side of the tub.
Grabbing the thing, whatever it was, he simultaneously spread my legs apart to open up my knees to him. My face, still looking begrudged, sent him another glare, but he wasn't looking back up to me at this point. He had shifted himself up, as he bent down low to level his head with my nether-regions.
He was looking quite uncomfortable, his legs large, and cramped inside the tub. Sighing quietly, exasperatedly, he then grabbed the sides of my hips, on the back of my buttocks, much to my surprise, and lifted them up to propel my hips high up above, level with my chest now, and his. I gasped in surprise and shock.
"Fang, what're you doing?" I asked him angrily, irritatedly, but he seemed to be irritated too.
"I'm trying to see you idiot. What've you got up there for brains?" he mumbled agitatedly.
"More than you do," I responded snidely, his hands still gripped around the sides of my butt. This was strange and uncomfortable, as well as distinctly unorthodox, I presumed.
"Ugh, whatever. Just put your feet along the end of the tub behind me," he instructed me annoyedly, seeming to have given up with angling my body towards him for a view.
I did what he said, so now that the the insides of my knees were hovering on the outside of his outer elbows. He slowly brought his hands up to grip my calves and then bring my feet down below me, to sit flat on either sides of his thighs. My knees were now bent up on either sides of him, and he had lowered his neck and bent himself down to below me. He slowly moved his thighs and knees backwards against the opposite end of the tub to propel his head down further. Looking around somewhere beneath me, he decided to be seemingly satiated, and then lifted his head back up.
His face didn't look.. sexist piggish in the slightest.. no semblence of pervertedness or any lecherous attitudes, or any snide, teasing words of the sort seeming to be ready to come out of his ears. He.. he just looked worried.. nearly tense in concentration.. like he really, really didn't want to mess this up.
My glare faded as I saw the look on his face as he assessed the outer lips of my vagina technically, before assessing the patch of hair on top, and then finally lifting himself up to level his head with mine again.
Looking down and concentrating, he took that thing that was in his other hand for a while and shook it a few times before bringing it down to me, between my legs, and shaking it a few more times before spraying it down onto the top of my crotch, above the vaginal lips, where the large mass of hair was mostly sitting.
He did it strategically and professionally, and once he was done engulfing the bit of it in fuzzy white foam, he put it back down on the outside of the tub, my legs still spread wide before them, and my bent and spread knees hitting either sides of the walls to him, feeling like sweating profusely,
His head still down, looking down and focusing on it, I watched him bring his hands up and rub his hands around the hairy area, spreading the white foamy substance over and everywhere on that top area, up and down, and all over completely. He lifted his fingers up and down and grabbed a few bits, gently tugging a few strands sometimes, as if, nearly, in his own curiosity. He tugged a piece gently hard, and I let a small 'eep!' of surprise escape my throat, and I swore I saw a smirk on his face, even though his head was still down.
The tugging and rubbing up above my pelvis made everything feel distinctly warm down in my vagina, and I couldn't help it.
After he was done, and all the hair on top was streaked with whitish foam, he set down the can and blew on the area. For some strange reason, I felt myself grow wetter and wetter below, even though he wasn't exactly touching the area right by my vagina, but just the area on top. The wetting feeling made me embarrassed, and I hoped to god I was just feeling it, and that no mucous-like secretions was coming out. Deaar god, I hoped so.. and even then, I hoped and reminded myself, he might just mistake it for the whitish foam too, or better yet—not even know what it was.
Naw. Of course he'd know what it would be.. he'd known all this stuff before I, myself.
Bending down lower now, the towel swinging off his chest to brush against the outside of my inner thigh, he brought something else up with his other hand, and brought it down on my pelvis, rubbing up and down gently at first, before going down rougher, and stricter on the hair. When he brought it up, a little stick like thing, with a horizontal thing at the end, I saw bits and pieces of extracted hair stuck on the end of the shiny thing at its long, oblong, rectangular head.
I watched curiously now, as he continued to do so, strategically, gently, knowledgeably, and carefully. He would take the tip of his towel down from his shoulder and brush lightly over the areas it seemed like he was done with. It seemed like a tedious and careful process, as he worked carefully and oh-so attentively, and with every brush, as he got closer and closer to making the whole front area hairless and bare, I felt more and more hypersensitive of that area way way, way below, and the empty space there, and what felt like the sweltering sides around on my vagina. God, what was he doing? He wasn't even touching me, yet I was feeling all these things wrack through me.. I was dreading when he'd get up to the outer vaginal lips, and if could see all that white mucous like stuff..
The feelings growing out through me and the reddening my face and my reddening face.. we'd been here for a half an hour already, Fang diligently working on shaving my nether-regions, only the back of his hair visible to me as he looked down and inspected and checked me critically, working on me so carefully and attentively. I couldn't take this anymore.. it was making me feel too..
"Fang, stop," I said suddenly, feeling like my voice was breaking.
He looked up, almost nearly dazed out and sent me a distracted, questioning look. I noticed his face and mouth was just a few inches away from my wet crotch— wet not only from the shaving foam, but also from inside. Seeing his face in such close proximity to me.. it.. it made me just shudder.
I didn't say anything after he was shooting me that confused look, and it suddenly changed to an annoyed one.
"Why?" he asked irritatedly, ignoring me and going back to work, lowering his head again.
I sighed now. Audibly. He looked up at me again this time, and his face softened. He put down the little razor blade to the side, on the outside of the tub, next to the pile of other odd thing and stuffs he'd put there, and then looked up to me. He stared at me a moment longer, my face red and wary and nearly shaking, and I noticed his own was rather tired in itself. Tired, cause he'd been paying so much attention into doing this carefully, I'd realized, and then immediately felt guilty, cause he wasn't seeming like a sexist pig in the slightest right now.
"This is hard for you, isn't it?" He asked curiously, looking at me in the eye. Annoyed, I looked away. Things shouldn't be hard for me. I was Maximum Ride. Things should always come easy to me. Yet, here I was, sitting here, my knees quivering and wanting to shut close, and my face all blood-rushed, beet redded. I looked away, irritatedly, but I could still feel his glance on my face.
He picked up the shaving can from the side of the tub again and then leaned back down to look at my vagina, shaking it a bit and spraying some onto his finger as he observed it carefully.
"Just relax, Max.. just relax," he said, continuing on what he was doing. My head was still turned to the side, looking away, as I suddenly now felt his hands probe along my outer vaginal lips.
His fingers were spreading the foam down the two long strips.. and slowly.. slowly, ahhhh.. his fingers reach down into the cleavage that led down to my anus. A-ahhhh..
I closed my eyes, and felt my face grow redder, as some nub in my vagina started throbbing excitedly. I could practically feel my heart sitting on my hard pussy, and I didn't even know why. I didn't know if Fang was oblivious to all this, as my eyes were still closed and shut tight, my head still looking away, as all I could focus on was the throbbing in my vagina, desperate, and the feeling of his two fingers rubbing and massaging down the sides of my vagina and the hairs there. Gently, he was massaging the foam into the hairs, making sure not to touch any of the nerves on the inside of my walls.. the ones that were making me feel to no end.
Now, all of a sudden.. I didn't want Fang to stop.. I didn't want him to do anything, but go.. go more.. although I didn't really know what I meant. All I knew.. was that, that throbbing was unsatiable, especially once he had gone down to touch the hairs along my anus.
He wasn't even doing anything wrong. He wasn't even being a sexist pig.. he was just, just shaving.
God, then why did I throb like thisthen?
I felt his fingers trail down and somehow, instinctively jerked up against him even more, pushing his fingers deeper into my skin, on the skin on my vagina. I relaxed a bit as I felt his hands continued to trail down, in the same deep way, even once I had put my pelvis back on the floor. I relaxed, breathing deeply, as I continued to feel his fingers run along my skin deeply. He was.. was.. massaging the white foam in.. deeper now, I think, taken the hint from me. I didn't care though.. my eyes were closed, and it felt good.. somehow, that was all that I could think about now.
I felt something cool on my skin, as I saw that Fang was now dragging the small razorblade-handle down the sides of my vagina and the outer and inner walls, gently lifting out and in to catch every single hair within the blades..
He rubbed it against me cleanly, before moving to the side and tapping it rhythmically against the edge of the tub, cleaning the hair out, while his other hand took the end of the towel resting on his shoulder and wiped it down cleanly.
And then.. and then he was done. He had taken his towel fully off of his shoulder instead of just lightly bringing it down to brush some wet hairs off gently. He had taken his towel off his shoulder fully, and now, with both hands, brought it both down to rub against my slightly wet, new pussy. It was dry, it was clean, it wasn't hairy anymore. Fang looked tired out, as he brushed down the clean, bare area now.
He had had stray hairs everywhere and all over his pajamas now, the lower portion of his shirt as well. My hair. I stared at him clean some stuff around the tub neatly, as the beating in my heart grew noticable. The beating on my vagina grew down and out, now that he was off me, and away from my vagina, cleaning up the materials he'd put around us. God, Fang..
He had got up out of the tub, and was bending down and cleaning up some stuff he'd put on the floor, bringing up a wet dishcloth and sweeping off all the hairs along the side of the tub where he'd been sitting on. Suddenly he threw the pajama pants ontop of my knees as I stayed sitting in the tub, still a bit dazed out, as I watched him clean up after me. I looked down to the cloth covering my bare knees, falling down my bare legs and covering up my lack of modesty. It had been quiet for a long time now, but I hadn't noticed, succintly dazed out, laying there in the tub as he cleaned up.
Fang still hadn't looked in my unclothed, scantily-clad direction, at my crotch or at my bare legs, even once, once he'd finished. He'd been pointedly looking away, his back to me the whole time since I was done, and bare. He knew by now I thought of him as a sexist pig. He knew by now that I didn't want him to look at certain places of my body. Once he was done shaving me, he hadn't looked at all, respectfully. I was faced with Fang's back. I continued to stare it curiously.
I put on the pants and then realized I hadn't put on my underwear as I stood up.
It felt.. strange.. to feel completely, utterly bare against my skin, and just have the light loose, baggy pants swinging against me.. no hair to compensate for coverage under my pants. It felt strange.. I felt more liable to get wet or feel strange things as the baggy cloth brushed against me, tantalizingly close to my center-point.
"Hey, where's my underwear?" I asked him, as he was putting some of the shaving stuff back up on the highest shelf in the cabinet behind the mirror above the sink. I felt back to normal now, despite the fact that Fang was still right there, stray hairs from my vagina still sprayed over his plain white shirt and his navy dark checkered pajamas.
He turned his head the slightest bit out of the corner of slanted eyes, carefully making sure I was decent, before fully cocking his head to side to look at me.
"You don't really need it now," he said normally, putting some things back on the shelf, turning back, as he reorganized things around, "Afterall, you're not on your period."
I squinted at him skeptically. What was he saying? My bottom wouldn't feel so light, and airy... and so liable to feel and get wettened, if I wore some underwear right now.
Ugh. It was Fang though. So he probably just couldn't find it, despite that I had slipped it off right along with my pants on the side of the tub.
I stepped out and stood to the side awkwardly, still watching him put stuff back up and stuff.
"Uh, well, thanks," I said awkwardly. I wasn't really the type for expressing intense gratitude or anything. I probly wasn't very good at it either.. check case in point.. not that this was intense gratitude or anything though.
It was more of awkward obligation and politeness, although I wasn't really sure why I was following through with it, considering I wasn't really a polite person in the first place..
"Yeah, well I didn't really show you anything, I just did it for you today," he said casually, busyingly cleaning the razors over the sink.
"I'm pretty tired today, but I'll watch you do it some other day," he said casually.
I blinked a few times in curiosity.. surely he didn't mean.. that place, again. To watch me, shave that place again. Hecocked his head to the side one second to look at me as I mulled it over in my head, agitation growing on my face at the thought.
".. don't flatter yourself, Max," he said, a half-hearted bare smirk on his face, as he turned back to the sink mirror cabinet. I felt myself seethe in anger, I didn't flatter myself. UGH!
I shuffled around awkwardly. It was pretty late by now, and it was the time I'd usually go to bed.. but I was just feeling so damn uncomfortable.. My vagina felt clean and new and stuff.. but also, frighteningly sensitive. I shuffled around the small bathroom, Fang still at the corner at the sink away from me, as I awkwardly looked around for my pale green underwear set.
Everything.. felt so airy, and cool.. and everything in my pants.. felt so sensitive, and free.. Is this what it felt like to be hairless down there? I didn't think I liked it.
"Shouldn't you be going to bed now?" I heard a voice behind me. It was Fang. Since when did he get behind me? I'd been dazing out in that awkward light feeling in my pants as I'd shuffled around awkwardly, looking for my underwear. I nearly jumped in surprise, but didn't think I had the heart to turn around in face him. Afterall, my face was probably red now. I wished he'd stop doing that—creeping up on me.
"I—I'm looking for my underwear," I explained, my head down, as I looked down to the floor again, my eyes running over the seemingly empty floors quickly. His looming presence behind me.. was unnerving.
Suddenly, I felt his hands on my upper thighs, him standing behind me. No wonder it had been unnerving.
"Is it because of," he suddenly slipped one of his hands in between my legs, the thin layer of my light summer long pajamas separating us. He cupped my crotch, and his hand on my bare vagina.. even the outline of it, now clean and hairless, felt good. He went up and his fingers quickly stroked up and down through my pajamas quickly, ontop of my crotch area.. "—this?" he finished, bringing his hand up in front of me. He was still standing behind me, one hand still resting on my upper thigh as I saw his hand in front of me. The two first fingers were slightly saturated.
Because of me. I really, really blushed. I didn't know what to say. It was most likely true.
And then, as quick as lightening, he slipped that same hand back, in my pajamas this time, skipping over everything, even the shaved zone, and quickly swiping up, to bring his hand back out. I didn't even have the time to gasp at being violated.. it was that quick.
He brought his hand up to me again. Now, it was coated in watery jello-like milky secretions of a paler color.
"Like that?" he whispered into my ear, asking me if that was the reason. A strange noise escaped my throat—one of indignance, shock, and sheer, utter horror. What was he doing? Was he really that pissed off at me? God, Fang.
"You know, you were so wet and sticky down there, when I was shaving you," he said in his deep, dark, illustrious voice into my ear, his whitish-fluid coated hand still raised up in front of me, glaring at me in the face, the light shining and reflecting off of the shiny material on his fingers. It had come from.. me.
"Do you know what this is?" he asked suddenly. I paused for a moment in surprise, at the question, staring at the glistening white stuff on his fingers, I couldn't help but stare at anything else; it was stuck right up front of my face.
"Its.. its semen," I wondered silently, answering.
The library books had said it was vaginal excretions, but it was also like what came out of Fang during his erections. I heard soft rumbling behind me, as Fang presumably smirked or laughed or something in ridiculousness. Oh. So, I guessed I was wrong.
"No, semen comes out of penises, when they ejaculate," he said, silently laughing at me. I grew angry in frustration. How was I supposed to know? It seemed sort of insane.
"This.. is what happens during ecstasy," he said, moving his fingers up and down a bit in front of me, the secretion he had caused through my pants making a strange sucking noise. I quieted down. I'd read that word before.. in one of those library books.. and now Fang was using it.. in reference to me..?
"Its for sex.. to make you feel good in sex, so you're ready for sex.. and it happens.. during ecstasy," he whispered out.
He moved his hand down to put it at the side of my right hip, his other hand still resting on my left thigh. He moved his hand against the side of my right hip on my pajama pants, rubbing the excretion off his hands. He then slid both his hands up my hips to rest gently, barely there, just hovering on the curve on my waist. I stilled in silence.
He spoke softly and silently into my ear, as if reaping significance into every damned slow syllable.
"You.. were in such ecstasy.. when I was shaving you.." he said softly.
Surprise and shock coursed through every vessel of my being.
I swallowed some bile that felt like it was creeping up on me, though I wasn't really sure if it was just saliva, in anticipation. Suddenly, I felt his hovering hands leave me, and his looming presence disappear. He was been telling me that I had been wanting to have sex with him while he was touching me in the shower. I felt so embarrassed.. But after a moment, I noticed he was no longer behind me, bent over the side of the tub, turning the knobs and letting the water come rushing out of the taps.
One hand on the knob, he controlled the pressure of water flowing out, watching it go down. I turned, slightly twisted, as I watched the small hairs from me sitting on the tub sweep down with the water too, caught in the flow of the current, fall down through the drain of the tub.
I walked out of the bathroom and went down the hallway quickly to reach my room, my legs still seeming to be shaking. Immediately, I closed the door shut behind me, leaning against it, before the anxiety overcame me and I hurriedly took off my stained pajama pants, left with no underwear underneath.
From my height, I stared at the piece of clothing on the floor.. a big, dark, wet spot, visibly on the crotch area. Another wet spot on the side of the waist band, where Fang had cleaned his hands off.. my.. cum.
I stared at the thing disgustedly, and immediately felt like crying.
God, I hated Fang. Sexist Pig or not, whatever he was feeling like, whatever he did with me.. all it did was make messed up stuff like this.
A/N:
Blah. What a chapter to write.. I dunno if I did it justice.
Can I just say this? I really don't want to write the next chapter. Not cause its something you guys don't want to see or something you won't be happy with, but just because I'm lazy.
So, prepare yourself for wierd stuff.
Tell me your ideas! Maybe I can make it interesting again! Maybe I can get interested again!
Warning: Since I feel like I'm fresh outta ideas for this plot so far (I've only got like, one or two left, and even then, I don't really know how to execute them), I get the feeling that the next chapter.. will be really, real trash. =.= Uh, so, beware.
Oh.. and er, note: Fang didn't keep Max's underwear or anything, like stowed away in his pocket or something.. thats weird, and perverted, in like, epic proportions.. He actually, literally, couldn't find it, and didn't know where it was. He wasn't advocating for Max not to wear underwear when she's simply not her period, he was just saying so that it wasn't that urgent to have it right now—that she was already covered up enough for now, so it didn't really matter.
And as for the elaborate shaving thing—fangs' always struck me as the type of person to do things properly. Whats interesting is that.. hm.. nope—read to find out!! I've got 87,000 hits. w00t yay ! =D
oh yeah. and i put up a little scene. If you go to my profile, theres a new story called "It Never Happened," and basically, thats a companion to Let Me Help You. So far, it only had one chapter up, but basically they're all scenes I've considered putting into this story but have decided not to in the long run. Let Me Help You is running on its own line, but as for the question that summarizes this story (What is the outcome of an adolescence without an adult and knowledge of societal norms?), those are all the other possible outcomes that could've happened. You Brigid-haters will probably like that sort of stuff btw--making Fang meet Brigid in Let Me Help You was a major choice I had to make to steer the story in one direction. Other possibilites I had for Let Me Help You will be put up there.
If you like this story, you'll probly like that one too. Afterall, they complement one another. Like.. like "alternate endings" or something. But just to make things clear: its not a story--just random possibilites and scenes that Let Me Help You could've gone in. Basically, it coincides perfectly with this story if you branch off after Chapter 13.
Yuppers. So far, I've only gotten one scene up, but I'll put the rest up if you guys seem to want it. (You know what that means.. review.. cough). The only reason I'm hesitant to do it, is because most of the little spoofs I have are really sloppy and nonsensical, as well as OOC. Some people have been saying that that first chapter makes more sense with the story than what I have in the canon LMHY, but I dunno.. my judgement differs.
Review on both please!