Fennel

"I'm not sure what you mean, how happy is that happy?" She happily responded to my obvious prompt, dipping her right hand into my pants and grabbing my cock with a pleasantly firm, purposeful grip. "Oh, that." I said, grinning like an idiot. She ran her palm down the length of my shaft. Upon reaching the base, her eyes widened. "Where's the rest of it?" My eyebrows hit my hairline. Oh God, I just died on the inside. Seeing the look of utter defeat on my face, she snorted, and then burst into a little fit of giggles. "I'm kidding! God, you're so sensitive!" she said, peeking at it under the covers, "I mean, you actually have some semblance of a shaft, unlike some guys." I beamed. I think I just died. Er, in the good way, not the bad way. Her head went further into the covers. A little, muffled voice emerged in place of hers, "Oh, kudos."

"I'm sorry?"

"Don't be, it looks quite nice." My cock throbbed with happiness at the comment. She re-emerged, looking pleasantly surprised. "I'm sorry but, you know, I have principles."

"Eh?"

"I don't tend to have sex with guys to whom I declared an attraction for which I originally disguised as a friendship laden with insults on the first night, minutes after our first kiss."

"That's totally understandable. And hang on, first?"

"Oh sorry, I forgot about my 16th. Guess you didn't really 'rock my world' at the time." Back to the insults.

"Look.. your hand's on my cock, I'm worried that if I insult you back, something terrible might happen, so I'll refrain." She giggled, and started moving her hand up and down along my stiff shaft. I shivered beneath her grasp; this was Fennel, my best friend since the age of 6, with her hand on my cock. And she was hot. Really hot. Maybe I should tell her so. I unintentionally rolled onto my back, cock standing in all its glory, her little hand still diligently pumping away at it. She leant over and kissed me, biting my lower lip as she pulled away. She changed her approach, rubbing the head of my cock between fingers and palm before stroking my shaft again. I was belting out pre-cum by this point, and each stroke of my shaft made a sticky, wet noise. "Mmm, how's that?" she asked, gently kissing my neck and shoulder.

"Unh.. great.." I breathed. And I would certainly know, I've had a handjob from a girl with sandpaper for hands. I felt myself nearing climax, but I didn't want it to end. I reached behind my head and grabbed the bed's headboard. I concentrated on holding it back, but she seemed to pick up on this, and pumped it harder. She propped herself up on her free hand, smiling at me in the fading light, her breasts swaying in time with each thrust of her hand. I couldn't hold it any longer, her grip was too perfect, her motion too tantalising. I breathed a 'Shit' in staggered breaths as I came. I couldn't tell where it went, just that my balls ached with each spurt, and that it was the hardest orgasm I'd had in a long time. As it began to die, I gave one last spurt before relaxing my arm that had been tensed against the headboard. "I'm sorry..." I began, sort of feebly and pointlessly.

"Why?" she asked rhetorically, bringing her arm out from under the quilt. Her hand and forearm were streaked with silvery lines and puddles of my cum. "I don't tend to do this, but..." she broke mid-sentence and began to lick the cum from her arm. I watched her, getting more turned on by the minute. It took her a good amount of time to work her way up from her elbow to her fingers, and she made sure to suck on each finger before sighing with delight. I was mesmerised by the bulge made in her throat as she swallowed; I counted 3 in total. "As I was saying, I don't tend to swallow my boyfriend's cum, I'm not partial to the taste, but I thought I'd make a special effort after you buttered me up with that 'you make me so happy' bit," she said, smiling sweetly at me.

"What bit? I was serious."

"Really?" she tilted her head to the side in bewilderment.

"Well.. yes, you do make me happy. What's so hard to believe about that?"

"Oh, it just.. well, whenever it's been said to me in the past, it uh.. didn't turn out to be true." She bit her lower lip as she finished her sentence. She seemed to be waiting for confirmation of this.

"Seriously? What kind of asshole did you date before me? I meant it, hon." Stunned for a moment, she lay against my chest. My heart resumed its frantic pounding.

"Really?"

"Yes, really," I said, kissing her head. "Also, are you saying I'm your boyfriend?"

"Well, that's the kind of conclusion we came to, wasn't it?" she asked, momentarily anxious about my answer.

"It is, I just.. hadn't really labelled myself as that yet. Or even thought of you as my girlfriend. Hey, roll onto your side so I can hold you again." She beamed and replied by lying back on her side, facing me. "Other side," I said with a smile."

"Oh, you wish to partake in some spooning? Fun." Taking my free hand, she rolled onto her opposite side, holding my palm against her stomach. Sheathing my dick, I lay next to her, pressing my body against hers. I placed a few kisses on her neck, smelling her hair in the process. She moaned quietly in approval. I could feel her warmth coursing through my fingers, each rise and fall of her body, it was all I could have ever wanted. I could feel her at my fingertips; she was restless, her hand atop mine fed me her sudden urge. My hand moved down her midriff, meeting the thin fabric that was the last, now unwilling defence. At first, I remained above the hem line, cupping the little, warm mound between her legs. She eagerly began to lift her topmost leg, a gush of warmth enveloping my hand beneath the quilt. With 4 connected fingertips, I traced a small circle across the thin fabric, her breathing becoming shallower with each full revolution.

Her hand that had originally rested upon mine was now placed on my cheek. I propped myself up on my unused arm as she turned my face to hers, our lips meeting again. We kissed passionately, though at times she would lose her breath and spend moments breathing sharply, in time with the circles I continued to trace. The fabric was now damp and her various contours exposed at its surface. My fingers retraced their steps up her midriff, and then resumed their journey south, this time drifting beneath the lay of fabric. Her skin was warm and moist, my fingertips matching the shape of each contour as I moved them in a simple up and down motion. Her breathing changed again, she would now take large, sharp intakes of air, holding it before breathing out and resuming the rapid, shallow breaths. I kissed her once on the lips, with definite intent, before allowing my middle finger to sink inside her.

The hand she had been lying on was now on her topmost breast, gently fondling the cloth-covered flesh, whilst her other hand resumed its resting place on mine, urging me on. I allowed myself to go knuckle deep before retreating and entering her again. She was so incredibly warm and wet on the inside, each push and pull of my finger emitting an almost inaudible sloshing noise. I added my thumb into the mix, stroking her little clit in a similar circular motion as before. Her hand moved across the bed, looking for some kind of grip, 'til she hit the wall, planting her palm against it. Her leg came down on my hand, pressing it into her thighs. She arched her back and let out a soft, high-pitched moan as she hit orgasm, her pussy clenching around my finger, a flood of warmth enveloping my hand as she uttered a final, soft moan before resuming her shallow breaths. Eventually, her legs slacked and I was able to remove my hand. Holding it up in the moonlight, streaks of her cum could be seen glinting all over my fingers and palm. I put the tip of my index finger in my mouth, tasting her juices. It tasted warm, sour and stale, but ultimately sweet. She turned to face me, still in recovery, and gripped my hand by the wrist. She eagerly sucked her juices from my fingertips, her big, brown eyes staring up at me. I kissed her, tasting her juices on her mouth. We parted lips and put our foreheads together, her still damp hair falling over her face. She was beautiful. I closed my eyes.

That familiar, light-headed feeling hit me before I even opened my eyes. I could feel light on my face, uncomfortably bright and warm. Unnhh, go away.. I want to—hang on. I'm in Fennel's room and I... Oh my God, I love this song! Na na na you look at meee? I know this... is gonna be alright—Mercury Summaahhh, in the afternoon, I hope you come back soooon. Ahh Fightstar, I would make sweet, musical love to you if you had a corporeal form. I don't include the band members, 'cuz that would make me gay. And I like pussy dammit, just ask Fennel. Speaking of which... "Morning Fe--" I began.

"Men are such pigs!" she scoffed, slamming The Color Purple into the bed. She sat with her back to the wall next to my recently awakened form, arms crossed, my head at about thigh height, a familiar, frustrated pout framing her face, before it melted into guilt. "Oh, I'm sorry, did I wake you?" she said, mouth opened just wide enough to catch a little glimpse of her mischievous tongue that was a usual indicator for when, actually, she wasn't sorry at all, but more amused.

"Oh, no, the light and Mercury Summer did the trick. But, backtrack, what's all this 'men are pigs' business?" She was wearing a loose, grey t-shirt with a three-eyed smiley on it, featuring the caption "Have A Nice Future" which stretched down to about half her thigh length, level with my eyes. I couldn't help but notice how, despite being baggy elsewhere, the t-shirt formed little bands of cloth where it stretched between her breasts. With a thoughtful face, she stared at the blurb-side-up book before replying.

"Have you ever read The Color Purple?"

"Mmm, nope, but I've heard of it. I thought it was about lesbians..." I asked cautiously, seeing her expression turn to one that said 'Only your utter gorgeousness has saved you from your total ignorance.'

"Actually, it's about a 14-year-old girl, Celie, who is raped by the man she presumes to be her father, who later sells two of her children, and in general, shows what chauvinistic, racist, abusive assholes men can be." I swallowed hard. "Also, I haven't gotten to the lesbian bit yet," she finished with a smirk. Seeing my horror-strewn look, she smiled, and patted my face, as if I were an animal who'd wrongly accused himself of some bad deed. "Awww," she cooed, "don't worry, babe, when women take over the world and the majority of men are burnt at the stake, I'll make sure they let me keep you as a house pet," she said, smile unfaltering. Great... As if to reassure me of my importance, she bent low and kissed me upside down like, gently gnawing on my nose in a cute yet odd show of her affection. I pumped the air with my fists as she resumed her position against the wall. "Spiderman kiss! That's another nerdy notch on my belt."

"Another? What are the others?" she said with honest intrigue.

"Oh, well, there's only one other actually: a Transformers kiss."

"You mean the bit where Shia LeBeouf, who has a ridiculous name by the way, kisses Megan Fox on Bumblebee's bonnet? Yeah, that was pretty hot." I love her.

"I'm pretty sure 'le beouf" translates to 'the beef' in French, meaning essentially his name is 'Shia the beef." She laughed. I smiled. Definite sign of affection: she laughed at my pretty terrible joke. Self-five. I looked up at her from my horizontal contentedness. Her hair was no longer a tangled, damp mess. Instead, it seemed oddly fluffy, the black tips shining with the sunlight. She looked down at me with a raised eyebrow. "Can I help you?" she asked.

Putting on my sexiest, most seductive, slightly French voice, I replied with "You come here often?" She pouted. Doesn't do that often at all. Mental rolling of eyes. Fightstar's Damocles was now playing on her radio. With a sudden burst of energy, possible due to Damocles, she flung herself on top of me, straddling me at the hips. Her breasts did their best to sway in such cramped conditions. I hate myself for it, but I can't help but notice her breasts all the time. They're just so wonderfully.. buxom. She thrust her hands at mine, which at the time were lazily placed above my head, clamping down on my wrists bringing her face so close to mine that our noses were firmly pressed against one another's. After a moment of silence and intense staring, I opened my mouth. "Mmm, you smell minty fresh."

"You can thank Colgate for that. I wish I could say the same for you though."

"Ouch. I'm not even out of bed and you're disappointed with me."

"What can I say? You slack, I bite." She playfully bit the air above my nose. I replied with deadly force, blowing a jet of morning breath into her face. She immediately retreated, the smell overpowering her nostrils. Sitting up, she batted the air around her face, with cries of "Ahh, it's too much!" Seizing this opportunity, I pinned her arms to her sides and rolled her over so that I was on top. She looked shocked at first, before breaking down into giggles. I leaned down and kissed her, playfully biting the air above her face as I broke away from her. She scrunched her face up, pretending to gag on the taste of my mouth. "Hey, don't forget, part of that wonderful taste is your contribution from yesterday. On two accounts, come to think of it." She giggled, grinning at me toothily at the end. With my hands on her wrists, I lifted them over her head, like she had done to me, as if she were hanging horizontally by them. She squirmed beneath my grasp in a cute attempt at escape. "Oh my, you're such a big, strong man," she said, in a breathy voice, fluttering her eyelashes at me, "Please don't hurt me, I promise I'll be a good girl..." she trailed off, slowly licking her top lip in a jaw-droppingly sexy manner.

"God, you're so damn cute."

"I wish the same could be said for you," she giggled, as I kissed her again, this time lingering against her lips, putting each new kiss into a short, burst form, my tongue occasionally leaving me mouth to touch the tip of hers, retreating before she could reply with her own. "Stop being such a tease" she breathed between kisses, arching her back so that she could try and catch me before I retreated again. Feeling that a victory here might only enrage the beast more, I accepted defeat, her tongue shooting into my mouth, engaging mine in a slippery yet tasty battle. I broke away suddenly, leaving her kissing the air. She opened her eyes, looking disappointed. Tilting my head further to the left, I gently bit her on the nose, before getting up and plotting a course towards the bathroom, leaving her breathless, if a little disappointed.

I flung open the bathroom door, smacking my minty lips. Arching my back, I sidled up against the doorframe, lifting my knee up in the most provocative gesticulation I could manage. Fennel was lying where I had left her, and had propped herself up on both elbows to absorb this wonderful sight. She sniggered at me as I slowly ran tongue over top lip, fluttering my eyelashes at her. "Like what you see?" I asked in a deep, husky voice. She continued to snigger at the spectacle.

"You're weird."

"It's all part of the charm." I replied, blowing her an exaggerated kiss. She gestured over to the bed by rolling her index finger at me. I sashayed obediently over to the bed, feeling pretty in control of the situation shortly before surprise was slapped onto my face as she grabbed me by the imaginary lapels of my t-shirt and dragged me into a hard kiss. I knelt above her as we feverishly locked lips and explored the depth of the other's mouth and the taste of the other's tonsils. "Mmm, minty fresh, although that adds to the things I own that are covered in your saliva," she said with a smirk.

"You know you love the taste."

"God, I do," she moaned breathlessly. Her hands furiously swept up and down my back, occasionally stopping to sink her fingers into my shoulder blades as I buried my face into her neck, kissing and nibbling the soft skin. Her hands, possessed by some mischievous intent, dipped beneath the lining of my boxers. Whoa, where're you going with thos—Hello! As soon as they had rested upon the two, fleshy cheeks, she squeezed, causing me to jump. She giggled that cute, little giggle of hers before licking me on the nose. "It's always a party with you," I breathed, still reeling from the strange feeling of her fingers on my bare ass. I leant back in to kiss her.

"Wait," she said, her breathing shallow and laboured.

"Is something wrong?" I asked.

"No. Well, sort of, but it's nothing serious. I was just thinking..."

"You found time to think during that?"

"...how I've already seen your uh, you know, willy, and technically I've seen your boobs." Willy and boobs, so cute <3.

"Mhmm, mhmm, that's true." I nodded furiously, sensing where this was going.

"So," she said, following me as I sat up on my haunches, "I mean, it's only fair if you see my boobs, right?" She gently bit the tip of her curled index finger.

"That.. definitely sounds.. yes." I continued to nod as she wrapped her arms around her waist, hooking her fingers under the seam of her t-shirt. She began to pull. First I saw the tips of the V-shaped trenches made by her womanhood that lay above her panties, followed by her bellybutton, and then the beautifully smooth curvature of the underside of her breasts. She moved unbearably slowly. And then, in one fell swoop the t-shirt lay on the bed. She placed her palms on her knees, curling her shoulders inwards as she looked down, joining me in admiring her breasts. I felt as if any shred of doubt or negativity of anything in my life quietly slipped away as I stared at her perfect breasts. They joined her chest so neatly, beginning with a long, gentle curve that arced round in a perfect circle, meeting her chest again to provide only the slightest amount of lip. There was the most modest gap between them, and they pressed against the inside of her arms enough only to deform the edges very slightly. Her nipples were quite high, set neatly into the top halves of their respective breast. One of them pointed slightly away from the other whilst its counterpart stared straight at me, making them all the cuter.

"So..." she giggled, noticing my expression as they wobbled ever so slightly. She padded towards me on her knees, making sure to press them firmly against my chest as she kissed me. We rose together as I kissed her back, her arms draped over my shoulders, my hands set firmly against her hips. In an instant, her hands were in my hair, her fingers running through my tresses, inhaling sharply as she puckered her lips. Fennel's short, skinny, blue-haired, art-nut friend Abby decided at this fortunate moment to stumble in through the door, getting an eyeful of the scene unfolding on her best friend's bed. Fennel gasped, mumbling something that sounded awfully like "Shit" under her breath as she turned to face Abby. However, before she could yank the quilt up to cover herself, No concern for my virtually naked body, of course, I slipped behind her and clasped her boobs in a vain attempt to shield them from sight, giving them a little squeeze as I did, unleashing a torrent of sniggering as she realised what I was doing. "Oh my God, Abby! Knock, will you!?" she said, voice reaching a pitch I'd never thought audible to man.

"Class?" Abby said, completely oblivious to Fennel's exasperation, although grinning at me.

"Two minutes, Abby!" she said, still harnessing her previous pitch.

"Should I wait outside?--"

"Yes, I think you should!"