I'm A Creep, And I'm In Love With Six
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Romance › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
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2,854
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Category:
Romance › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
2,854
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
I'm A Creep, And I'm In Love With Six
DISCLAIMER: Uhm, these characters ARE created by me, but I\'m not making any money off of it. As if I could.
CHAPTER SUMMARY: Richard meets Six.
WARNING: Masturbation, imaginary sex
Chapter 1
On October 26th, the first thing she said to me was, “I’m really, really sorry,” and of course, this struck my interest. I had merely been standing in the main hallway of our small high school, population of about 150.
I glared, and asked her, “What are you apologizing for?” in hopes to frighten her away. Why would I want to frighten her away? Because she was too… something. I guess the word I’m looking for is intense.
She laughed, “You have me for History next block,” and then she walked away with the crowd. I probably would have lost track of where she was in the small crowd of black, brown and blonde, if it weren’t for her hair. You could never, ever lose her in a crowd. That day, half of her hair was reddish pink, and the other half was black. She was also taller than any of her friends, I put her at about 5’6 at the time. I only taught History to one level, so I knew that she was only in Grade 10. She seemed to be a little too old for Grade 10, but then I remembered that at this specific high school, the average Grade 10 student was 16.
I suppose, just so no body gets confused, I should explain how this specific high school was run. We were situated in the “ghetto” of our small city, Charlestown, so it was full of people who thought that they were black and called each other their “niggers,” even if they were paler than the walls. But I digress… TAMEO (the name of our school, short for Teaching And Mentoring Each Other… I don’t know where we got that one from) runs on a block system. Instead of semesters like most other high schools, we run two classes for two months, with four day weekends between the blocks. For example, this particular block that this young girl spoke to me about, was November to December; I taught History 10 ALL bloody morning, and English B 30 all afternoon, from Halloween day to December 21st. This made it easier for more mature students to come back to school to get their credits and eventually, their high school diploma, especially if they previously had to leave due to child-care or even rehab. This was five years ago.
That night, after the less-than-normal introduction to the nameless young woman, I came home to my wife, Mia. When I walked in the door, she was feeding our 2 year old son, Jacob. I stamped my shoes free of snow, set them on top of a heating vent for them to dry. I hung up my coat by the door and brought my briefcase into the living room; Mia soon joined me, as I marked the final tests for my English A 30 class, blasting them quite harshly for their assumptions, fuzzy ideas, and over-all, spelling and grammatical errors. She sat down next to me, with Jacob in her arms. I sat up from my back-breaking pose over the papers and caught her lips in a quick kiss. For a fleeting moment, the pink and black haired girl flashed through my mind as I kissed my wife, hence the swiftness of the kiss. I shivered slightly, and Mia asked if I was still cold from the outside. It being a Canadian fall-turning-winter, it was a legitimate question. I told her that I was, to avoid awkward questions, so she handed me Jacob who immediately reached around my neck and gave me the only kind of hug a two year old could - sticky.
He mumbled into my neck and said, “Daddy, your neck is itchy,” and Mia laughed.
She reached over and rubbed my cheek with the back of her hand (and again, the fleeting image of the girl) and said with a smile, “Richard, he’s right. You need to have a shower and a shave. I’ll look after Jacob and you do your thing, okay?”
~~~~~~~~~
While I was in the shower, I was furious with my shame. I was thinking, again, of the cheery face and brightly colored haired girl. Only, my imagination (which I had determined early on in life, that I had too much of) added more than what was originally there. One of my filthy, 43 year old paws in her hair, the other on the side of her face, guiding up her pierced lips up to my own. In my imagination, she had on the same amount of clothes as I did while I was in the shower, quietly masturbating. I wasn’t quite sure of her eye colour, so they were always closed as I caressed her pale, white face in the shower. Her face was a bit longer and a bit more narrow than average, but that just added to her unique beauty. She had the left side of her lip pierced, both of her nostrils, and her eyebrow. I never thought that facial jewelry was attractive, but she wore it… right. I personally thought that she wore too much makeup, so as I imagined her in the shower, it was coming off, streak free, and she was left with a bare face. Her lips were full and only a shade darker than her skin, proven even lighter after the foundations had been washed off.
My imagination really took off then. I thought of her breasts. They were small, just a little under a handful, with moderately sized nipples. They became hard when she realized with heavily hooded eyes, that I was looking at them, and I realized the potential there, in those nipples. My imagined mouth started kissing down her long, pale neck and onto her soft chest. I heard her moan as I slowly took her petal soft nipple into my mouth, lightly flicking it with my tongue and occasionally rolling it between my teeth.
My imaginary self picked her up, and with extreme care I slowly entered her, bracing her back against the shower wall. She wrapped her long, creamy legs around my hips and started to buck back down on to my shaft, slowly at first, but gradually gaining pace. I held on to her right hip, and her left buttock as I shifted against her weight. She wasn’t a small girl, by any means, but she was not big. She was sturdy, with a soft roll on her stomach. Since it was my fantasy, I was able to let go of her body and trace her curves lightly with my fingertips. She was at my finger tips, and with that, I realized she always would be. Also with that realization, I came. It was gentle and soft, the opposite to what most written stories state when describing an orgasm. The entire process was silent and unknown to the entire world, except for me.
---------------------
Sorry if I posted this twice!!!
This is my first fic. of this nature. Please tell me what you think, and how I can improve on it!
I need help, people.
<3
CHAPTER SUMMARY: Richard meets Six.
WARNING: Masturbation, imaginary sex
Chapter 1
On October 26th, the first thing she said to me was, “I’m really, really sorry,” and of course, this struck my interest. I had merely been standing in the main hallway of our small high school, population of about 150.
I glared, and asked her, “What are you apologizing for?” in hopes to frighten her away. Why would I want to frighten her away? Because she was too… something. I guess the word I’m looking for is intense.
She laughed, “You have me for History next block,” and then she walked away with the crowd. I probably would have lost track of where she was in the small crowd of black, brown and blonde, if it weren’t for her hair. You could never, ever lose her in a crowd. That day, half of her hair was reddish pink, and the other half was black. She was also taller than any of her friends, I put her at about 5’6 at the time. I only taught History to one level, so I knew that she was only in Grade 10. She seemed to be a little too old for Grade 10, but then I remembered that at this specific high school, the average Grade 10 student was 16.
I suppose, just so no body gets confused, I should explain how this specific high school was run. We were situated in the “ghetto” of our small city, Charlestown, so it was full of people who thought that they were black and called each other their “niggers,” even if they were paler than the walls. But I digress… TAMEO (the name of our school, short for Teaching And Mentoring Each Other… I don’t know where we got that one from) runs on a block system. Instead of semesters like most other high schools, we run two classes for two months, with four day weekends between the blocks. For example, this particular block that this young girl spoke to me about, was November to December; I taught History 10 ALL bloody morning, and English B 30 all afternoon, from Halloween day to December 21st. This made it easier for more mature students to come back to school to get their credits and eventually, their high school diploma, especially if they previously had to leave due to child-care or even rehab. This was five years ago.
That night, after the less-than-normal introduction to the nameless young woman, I came home to my wife, Mia. When I walked in the door, she was feeding our 2 year old son, Jacob. I stamped my shoes free of snow, set them on top of a heating vent for them to dry. I hung up my coat by the door and brought my briefcase into the living room; Mia soon joined me, as I marked the final tests for my English A 30 class, blasting them quite harshly for their assumptions, fuzzy ideas, and over-all, spelling and grammatical errors. She sat down next to me, with Jacob in her arms. I sat up from my back-breaking pose over the papers and caught her lips in a quick kiss. For a fleeting moment, the pink and black haired girl flashed through my mind as I kissed my wife, hence the swiftness of the kiss. I shivered slightly, and Mia asked if I was still cold from the outside. It being a Canadian fall-turning-winter, it was a legitimate question. I told her that I was, to avoid awkward questions, so she handed me Jacob who immediately reached around my neck and gave me the only kind of hug a two year old could - sticky.
He mumbled into my neck and said, “Daddy, your neck is itchy,” and Mia laughed.
She reached over and rubbed my cheek with the back of her hand (and again, the fleeting image of the girl) and said with a smile, “Richard, he’s right. You need to have a shower and a shave. I’ll look after Jacob and you do your thing, okay?”
~~~~~~~~~
While I was in the shower, I was furious with my shame. I was thinking, again, of the cheery face and brightly colored haired girl. Only, my imagination (which I had determined early on in life, that I had too much of) added more than what was originally there. One of my filthy, 43 year old paws in her hair, the other on the side of her face, guiding up her pierced lips up to my own. In my imagination, she had on the same amount of clothes as I did while I was in the shower, quietly masturbating. I wasn’t quite sure of her eye colour, so they were always closed as I caressed her pale, white face in the shower. Her face was a bit longer and a bit more narrow than average, but that just added to her unique beauty. She had the left side of her lip pierced, both of her nostrils, and her eyebrow. I never thought that facial jewelry was attractive, but she wore it… right. I personally thought that she wore too much makeup, so as I imagined her in the shower, it was coming off, streak free, and she was left with a bare face. Her lips were full and only a shade darker than her skin, proven even lighter after the foundations had been washed off.
My imagination really took off then. I thought of her breasts. They were small, just a little under a handful, with moderately sized nipples. They became hard when she realized with heavily hooded eyes, that I was looking at them, and I realized the potential there, in those nipples. My imagined mouth started kissing down her long, pale neck and onto her soft chest. I heard her moan as I slowly took her petal soft nipple into my mouth, lightly flicking it with my tongue and occasionally rolling it between my teeth.
My imaginary self picked her up, and with extreme care I slowly entered her, bracing her back against the shower wall. She wrapped her long, creamy legs around my hips and started to buck back down on to my shaft, slowly at first, but gradually gaining pace. I held on to her right hip, and her left buttock as I shifted against her weight. She wasn’t a small girl, by any means, but she was not big. She was sturdy, with a soft roll on her stomach. Since it was my fantasy, I was able to let go of her body and trace her curves lightly with my fingertips. She was at my finger tips, and with that, I realized she always would be. Also with that realization, I came. It was gentle and soft, the opposite to what most written stories state when describing an orgasm. The entire process was silent and unknown to the entire world, except for me.
---------------------
Sorry if I posted this twice!!!
This is my first fic. of this nature. Please tell me what you think, and how I can improve on it!
I need help, people.
<3