#best friend said he is that image of the bimbo picking up a book but doesnt actually change

[lucius-the-sinful]

computer! make that blorbo squishier!

[maman-suho]

False Impression || Jackson Wang

When you went to the parc to read a book, you hadn’t expected the venue of a gorilla dressed in an awful tracksuit to ruin your concentration.

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Jackson Wang

Words: 3,5k

Tags: Humor? 

A/N: hmmmmmmmmmm... I initially just wanted to make fun of Jackson Wang while still complimenting him but... it somehow turned into a message against stereotypes. Sorry about that haha. And yeah the gif isn’t really representative of the Jackson Wang in this fic. Just imagine him with his purple tracksuit okay? 

/!\ Unedited /!\

« No. »

Watching his face crumple, you were almost enjoying the situation. Indeed, being disturbed by a womanizer while peacefully reading a book in a parc wasn’t really what you’d planned for the afternoon. Still, you had succeeded in finding some amusement by rejecting his advances without gentleness. 

When he arrived by your side, taking a seat without even asking, all you wanted was to get rid of him. The afternoon was great, the sun high in the sky and the parc wasn’t too crowded. If some would have complained about the wind, you couldn’t care less. Yes, you’d had some difficulties to read due to wild pages and tumultuous hair. But what was more convenient than impromptu gusts to push people away? Being almost alone in a desert island of green, brown and orange, a scarf around your neck,  somewhere hidden between thickets and falling leaves… As cheesy as it seemed, your heart could not deny the attraction force this place had on you. Especially during autumn. Thus, accepting this fact, you’d moved here to enjoy the silent music of the parc. 

Or at least that’s what you’d thought before a muscled gorilla had arrived to ruin the landscape with an awful tracksuit under a jacket and a blinding gold chain around his neck. 

« No? » The young man repeated with a high pitched voice. Even there, only mere centimeters away from him, you could see his fragile masculine ego trying its best to not break into pieces. All over his face, you were able to notice how this rejection was affecting him. But not wanting to let him know how tasty it was to push away what seemed to be a smooth talker, you did your best to hide your gloating smile and maintain composure. 

« Is it that surprising? » You asked. 

« At least tell me why.» Avoided he. Somehow this well-determined guy had managed to get a bit closer, his ass moving inches by inches so he could be as close as socially permissible. 

Usually, the reduced distance would not make any difference. Nonetheless, in this case, it affected your perception of the person. Because suddenly all you could focus on was his puppy eyes. 

Not that you were feeling remorse about pushing him away but you started to find it endearing. So with a joke, you tried to ease the atmosphere, while in reality, you’d mostly done it to ease your sudden emotional lack of control. « It’s because of the gold chain. » 

« What? »

« Just kidding. » You joked. 

Hope. That’s what your smile gave him. And honestly, it was enough to make his heart race. Since the beginning of the conversation and even before, when he saw you reading alone, it was the first time he had hope. Because finally, it might have appeared that the beautiful girl on this bench wasn’t as severe as he first thought. And while he was enjoying the view, taking his time to admire your bright smiling face and the malicious glint in your eyes, you realized how shiny were his. 

« So is it a yes? » He asked while putting an arm on the backrest.

« No I wasn’t kidding the first time. » You crudely answered even if your happy expression hadn’t left your features.

Almost closing his eyes in frustration, Jackson turned his head to avoid your glare and lowered his shoulders. It seemed like an exaggerated act but it was the reflection of his feelings. False hope. Two rejections were too much, even for his determined and stubborn self. Multiple times he had had to face this kind of situation but today was special. Indeed you were still here, right next too him, and it felt like you didn’t especially want to leave either. On the contrary, you were now facing him, book closed and you kept smiling. He hadn’t faced any slap in the face. Or at least, not yet.

Glancing quickly at his friends far around the corner, he remembered the stake and decided to insist. « May I at least know why? »

You had to admit your surprise concerning his way of speaking. Strangely, his appearance wasn’t revealing the whole person this guy seemed to be. He might have chosen to wear a hideous tracksuit, his way of speaking wasn’t too basic nor too aggressive. He was expressing himself clearly, without slang or vulgarity. And you started to think that maybe the stereotypes society gave you were wrong. 

« Honestly? » You asked while gauging him. He could clearly see in your eyes how your brain tried desperately to figure out what was a lie and what was not. But since you seemed inclined to keep talking he didn’t mind. Because this glare was a proof of your curiosity, and your interest was his only way to achieve his aims.

« Sure. » He said with a smile. « How can I improve myself without feedback? »

« Oh I’m sorry. You can’t improve that. » The teasing tone on your lips felt attractive to his ears. This, mixed with your relaxed posture, was an evidence of how you were now comfortable around him. 

A full smile appeared on his face.

Anyone would have been able to perceive how in reality he wasn’t really looking at you. But you were too focused on denying how cool this situation was to discern it yourself. In fact, the young man was admiring you, from the way you were thinking about how not to be too rude, to the expressions you had while not realizing how curious he was about you, despite the original reason of his way to your bench. « What can’t I improve? » He finally asked.

« The first impression. » Your eyes were now staring directly at him. « The first image you give to people. »

« I’m afraid to ask, but what’s the first impression I give to people? »

« Honestly? »

« Yes, honestly! You just rejected me twice, I want to know why. » He almost shouted. And surprisingly you suddenly didn’t want to be honest anymore. He seemed nice, and unexpectedly charming. He might have had the guts to disturb your so precious minutes of reading, but now with his hair messy due to the wind, you were surprisingly ready to forgive him for this affront.

« Is it that surprising for you? I mean, to be rejected… »

« Honestly, yes. It doesn’t happen that much. » Instantly he saw you raise your eyes to heaven. Shit what did he do again? Thinking about it, he was keeping it to himself so much, trying his best to not be offended all the time. Why was he still here? « What? » He asked, feeling his nerves on edge.

« You’re confirming the first impression. »

« Which is? »

« The fuckboy one. The image of the guy who knows what he wants and will go away just after he got it. » You stopped yourself before picking your speech up again. « Okay wait. I’m not saying it’s a bad thing. I’m just implying that it’s not the perfect image to accost a girl on a bench, with a book in her hands. But if you want to pick up a bimbo in a nightclub then yeah, keep going. Next time you should at least wear a jean and a shirt. You might look nice enough to get what you want.» 

« And what do I want? »

« Oh please, stop acting like girls don’t know why guys approach them. »

A long and awkward silence then enveloped the conversation and you realized that maybe, you’d said too many things. On his side of the bench, Jackson waited to see you redden with embarrassment. But the young man didn’t perceive the regrets he was searching on your face. 

On your side, you couldn’t feel any shame, because all you said was the reflection of your thinking. And unfortunately, the confident person you were did not regret it. 

« You never stop uh? » He gave you a teasing yet reassuring smile. 

« Do you? » 

He offered you a quite funny high pitched and almost offended laugh, while briefly watching the sky. « True. » Now it seemed like his ass had melted to the woody bench. « But still. It’s unfair. » He answered. 

« What is? »

« It’s a value judgment based only on my physique. It’s full of stereotypes. » He started again while truly looking at you in the eyes.

« It’s not only about the looks. It’s also about the attitude » you started again. « about the way you speak and the ‘I’m so handsome, I can’t be rejected’. » You mimicked and made him smile. « Plus, no offense, of course, but you don’t even know my name. So I’m not sure you chose to approach me due to my complex and funny personality, you know? »

He laughed. From the way you were moving your hands to how you’d transformed your voice to impersonate him, you were far from what he had expected when he first noticed you on this bench. « Okay, You might be right. I chose to approach you because you looked truly beautiful while reading on that bench. But, for my defense, I never said I was handsome. You did. »

Shit. He got you. He was much more intelligent than you originally thought and you could feel yourself blushing just at the idea of your self-betrayal. Afterward, you didn’t know if you were blushing due to his compliment or due to the Freudian slip your lips let go. All of this wasn’t supposed to happen, and you hadn’t imagined how quickly this situation would escalate. 

You were fully aware of his handsomeness. Who wouldn’t? Cause even if he wasn’t as tall as you used to like, he had a beautiful smile which you thought was probably as bright as his personality. Plus you could perceive easily his fitness and the muscles coming with it, even if his tracksuit was hiding most of it. And to be honest, his voice was probably his most seductive trait. In only ten minutes of conversation, you had had enough time to analyze his physique, but you found yourself unable to put a finger on the personality behind this fuckboy mask. And looking at him _or mostly avoiding his glare due to embarrassment, you started to admit how curious it made you feel. 

That’s when you saw them. Two guys were standing beside a bush, watching you with full smiles on their faces. 

Thinking about it you wondered how you’d manage to miss this sight. Indeed they were not really discreet while standing there and playfully looking at you. They were even laughing. A skinny guy with panther patterns on his jacket and another dressed like a grandpa. What a funny view.

« How much did you bet? » You almost attacked.

He’d seen the change in your mood. Actually, it was almost if he felt it. And seeing you look in his friends’ direction he felt his heart accelerate. In just a second all his work to charm you and have your number had been reduced to ashes. 

« Bet what? » In a rush he decided to play the innocent card, hoping it will save him. But as your appearance showed it you weren’t stupid enough to let it go.

« It might feel that my attention is only focused on your lies but the tall toothpick with a Gucci belt over there is quite distracting. » You saw him fight a smile at the nickname you gave to his friend. 

« What the-. » He started. 

Thinking about it, it was obvious to you. Why a guy like him would bother approaching a girl like you when all he had to do to get one was to snap his fingers in an appropriate place? This approach had been planed, you realized, from his word to how he will win by accosting you. There must be a reward behind it. 

« So Tracksuit guy. Tell me. What was the bet?» You had an annoying knack of making him smile even when he could feel the control slip between his fingers. 

« Jackson. » he rectified.

Five seconds of pure silent then enveloped the conversation while all you were doing was to stare at him in his no longer sweet eyes. And as if the pressure was too heavy to carry he dropped the bomb.

« Okay they bet 50 bucks that I couldn’t get the number of a girl like you. » he stiffened. 

To be honest it hurt. Even if you’d started to understand the situation, it was really offensive. You did your best to hide it and keep a cool atmosphere between you two, but again, he felt it. Jackson could perceive just with a look how you thought he only came to you for the bet. He realized how mean he was suddenly seen, and if his ego had been hurt by your rejection, he’d just broke yours. « But make no mistake, all I said was-» He tried to explain himself. 

Jackson’s words had difficulties to make a sentence since his mind was too busy trying to find a proper summary of his thoughts. You truly were beautiful, all he said was the reflection of his opinion about you. And the last thing he wanted was for you to believe he only came for money.

« A girl like me? » You asked roughly. 

« Yes. » He hardly breathed. A new kind of silence was now making him suffocate. How could you have so much effect on him? « An intellectual. » He said calmly as if it was obvious. Your eyebrows had raised with surprise and obviously, some satisfaction. It was almost nice between his lips. Those words felt like a true compliment.

« Are you saying that you’re stupid? »

« Nope. » He smirked. « But I don’t go to parcs just to sit on a bench and read a book. »

« What do you do then? Do you take off your shirt and fool around just to draw attention? » Considering his face and how he started to adjust his position to sit straight you could feel some truth in your words. Indeed you could clearly imagine it. The tracksuit guy taking off his shirt to reveal a toned and gleaming chest under the sunlight. Him, putting a hand in his fluffy hair. His eyes narrowed and aiming to the horizon as if only a god could defy his perfection. 

Blinking quickly you tried to erase this vision. Had you just fantasize about a gorilla in a tracksuit? Please make an effort, this dude just tried to delude you for a bet, you told yourself.

« That’s… » He watched you lost your concentration for a second, your eyes wandering quickly on his chest. « …pretty much the idea… but right now it’s too cold for that. »

Jackson had the strength to make you go through an emotional roller coaster like no one ever did before. 

« Okay, do you see the guy with a gloomy face? » He started again while you were trying to focus. You frowned your eyebrows.

« You don’t even look at him how do you–» You started.

« I know Jinyoung has the face of a guy who wants to come back home. »

You smiled again and then brightened his mood and motivation. « Okay then yes, I see him. »

« Just as an example, this guy is an intellectual. When I noticed you on that bench he recognized the book you’re reading. HE said I wasn’t able to get your number. But that’s the toothpick beside him who bet 50 bucks. And since I had planned to approach you anyway, why not kill two birds with one stone? »

This sudden honesty had you surprised. But no one would get themself trapped two times in a raw with beautiful charmings words. « Let’s stop with all those lies okay?” You started again. “I don’t care anymore if you find me attractive or not, cause actually I already doubted a guy like you would. So let’s summarize the situation. You bet with those to guys over there that if I give you my number, you’ll have 50 dollars. Is that correct? » 

Your tone was almost aggressive, and he started to be fed up with all the rude words you were spitting at the minute. « Again, I never lied,” he justified himself calmly “but let’s say that your summary is accurate. »

« Okay, just give them a false number and pretend it’s mine. » You fakely smiled.

« Nope. Too easy. They will ask for proofs it’s yours. »

« Okay then, I have an idea. Since it’s too late for you to get my number with charm, let’s make a deal. A business one. »

That’s when he realized your strict appearance gave him at least one true characteristic of yours; you were pragmatic. 

« …Keep going. » He smiled while watching your brain work to arrange a good deal.

« The deal is just to have my number right? »

« Yup »

« Nice. I’ll give you mine if you give me half of the bet. »

He laughed, making you smile. You knew he wasn’t making fun of you, but it still was charming. « Are you implying that I’m paying you to have your number? » He asked, looking at you again straight in the eyes. You felt like he was now even closer than before but didn’t move either.

« Absolutely. » You answered proudly. 

« That’s absolutely immoral. »

« Less than approaching a girl and lie to her just to win 50 dollars. »

He was speechless. How could such a pretty mouth spit so many rudenesses? « I did not. » He corrected himself again. 

« Plus don’t make a big deal out of it. You’ll still have 25 dollars in the end. » 

That’s when you friendly hit his shoulder that Jackson realized he was a goner. He came here to charm you but in the end, he was the charmed one. « I’m still not sure you really understood why I originally accosted you.” he paused. “But okay.»

« Is it a deal… » Putting your book in your bag you hesitated a bit. « Hum what’s your name again? »

« Jackson. » He smiled and you swear you’d felt your cheeks blush. 

« Nice. So, is it a deal Jackson? » You said while offering him your hand.

Some seconds were then spent in complete silence. All you could hear was his loud breaths and the heavy heartbeats echoing in your head. 

« Deal. » He said with a deep seducing voice to finally shake your hand with his. 

« Okay give me your phone. » You asked.

___

« I have it! » He yelled while approaching Bambam and Jinyoung. 

The two guys were watching you leave the parc peacefully. « Really? » Surprisingly asked the one with big ears.

« I’m sure you paid her for that. We saw you giving her money. » Laughed Bambam.

Jackson smirked. Of course they did. « Maybe, but the bet was to have her number. It didn’t specify how do get it. » he said in a malicious tone. Back in his mind, he was trying to not let his defeat affect his speaking. Jackson couldn’t let them know he affected his ego. 

« Wait a sec. It’s too beautiful to be true.” Said Jinyoung with a concerned face. “Text her. I want to be sure. »

[Jackson] - 4:12pm: Hey!

[Unknown number] - 4:13pm: hmm… who r u?

[Jackson] - 4:13pm: Jackson, the handsome guy who succeeded in getting your number.

[Unknown number] - 4:16: Sorry you might have text the wrong number, I don’t know any Jackson.

« Dude she just scammed you » Loudly laughed Bambam. He almost tripped over a branch while letting all the surrounding hearing his giggles. Jinyoung then joined him, letting Jackson alone with his despair.

“Wait, guys. It could be her. She could be pretending she-”

« Yeah, yeah. Don’t make this face we won’t talk about with the others. » Started Jinyoung after patting his shoulder.

« Liar. » Said Jackson without any fun in his voice.

“Okay, enough fun, guys we’re late. Jaebum will kill us. We wasted too much time with this girl. But it worthed it.” Finally stopped Bambam while starting to walk towards the exit of the parc. “Let’s go.” 

« So, do you still love intellectuals? » Asked Jinyoung more calmly.

Jackson was peacefully looking at the empty bench, not knowing if he was amused or offended. Then he exhaled loudly and started walking with his friends.

« You have no idea. »

[wickedgamesfanfic]

Chapter 5

Shani

We pulled into a gated community just off the highway. I dared to keep my eyes on the road afraid to look into his face after what he had just done to me. I hadn't came so heard since ... well never. At least not by the touch of a man.

My tough girl act was long gone. Replaced by something a little softer and a hell of a lot more vulnerable.

"Pull up just here." He said.

I nodded my head and pulled the car up to a small guard post. We were soon greeted by a pretty petite blonde girl who seemed very unfitting for the job.

She eyed me questionably. Before realizing Michael was seated next to me. She smiled widely. "What's up Mikey?" She asked leaning over into the drivers side window. She gazed into the back seat and a look of disappointment showed on her face. "Where's Darwin?" She whined.

I looked over to him as if to say 'what the fuck was it to her?'. He placed his hand on my knee and softly pressed his nails into my skin. I instantly lost the attitude I was attempting to catch and simply found myself leaning back into the seat.

I even made it a point to smile at the bitch. She returned the gesture. And I thought to myself that she was pretty but no where near as pretty as my best friend.

"Jessica DND tonight." He said firmly. "No exceptions."

She nodded her head in the affirmative and softly stepped away from the car. I couldn't help but notice he had a similar effect on me. And wondered if he naturally had this effect on all women.

The gate parted and I removed my foot from the brake allowing us to slowly pull down the street. My eyes bulged as I took in each exquisite home. These homes were nicer than the ones we had just left. Reminding me that he was a rich celebrity and that I was attempting to play ball in another league.

"Last one on the right." He said breaking me away from my thoughts. My eyes bulged. It was by far the biggest home of them all. It even contained a large piece of land that was gated all itself.

I pulled into the circular driveway and placed the car in park before removing the key from the ignition and dangling it for him to take. All the while managing to keep my eyes on the steering wheel. I had lost all my sass. I was nervous as shit and afraid of what more he could do to me once alone in his home. Instead of taking the keys from my hand he took my hand into his. Placing it on his lap.

"Are you okay?" His tone was soft and concerned. I loosened up a bit. Reassuringly nodding my head yes. I attempted to reach for the door handle. "Ah Ah!" He said quickly exiting the car. Leaving me confused as he made his way around to my door. He opened the door with a goofy grin on his face before extending his hand to help me out. I cocked my head to the side as if to say 'Really' before placing my hand in his.

"I could have gotten that ya know."

"You could have. But you don't have to when I'm around. Consider me if nothing else you're official door opener." He joked wrapping his arm around mine. I giggled at his goofiness but managed to blush at the thought of him being around longer than tonight.

"Opening doors is cool. I mean it's sweet of you. Probably impresses a lot of the girls you meet. I can hear them now. Oh that Michael B Jordan is such a gentleman. Opening doors, pulling out chairs. Girl hold my panties." I joked attempting to mimic one of his previous bimbo conquest as we made our way up the steps.

"You caught me." He said holding his free hand in the air. "My father always said If you want to get in her pants. You gots to be a gentleman. He said Son if you want her to be yours ... then make sure to get them doors. And let's not forget my favorite. If you want them to show you theirs. All you gots to do is pull out chairs."

I just stared at him a moment longer than necessary before bursting into laughter. He was so lame. And cute. I couldn't even take my next step. I wrapped my hand across my stomach as the muscles tensed causing me to double over. He threw his head back and let out a hardy chuckle. I held my hand up and placed one finger in the air. I needed a minute to contain myself. I was one of those people who got into fits of laughter and found it hard to stop.

"Your father sounds like an interesting man."

"The most interesting man in the world." He small smiled reaching for my hand once more.

"I'll have to meet him one day." I giggled placing my hand in his. He pulled me up a few stairs nodding his head in agreement. I stepped closer into his side gazing over into his face as he fought to hold in laughter of his own.

He dug into his pocket before placing his key into the door. He placed his hand on the door knob and I placed mine on his. "So how many doors do you think it'll take for you to get in my pants?" I asked playfully out of curiosity.

"That depends." He said turning into me. My eyes once again fell on his chest. I watched it rise and fall for a moment.

"On what?" I asked finally allowing our eyes to reconnect. His stare was intense. I felt myself shrinking beneath it.

"On when we started counting."  He placed his palm against my cheek. Softly rubbing the tip of his thumb against my bottom lip.

"Now." I whispered.

"Well in that case ..." he turned and opened the door.  "One."

****

He gave me a brief tour of his home and it was just as beautiful on the inside as I had imagined. He claimed to have decorated it himself and I appreciated his artistic approach. The man had good taste. It was a far cry from the man cave style most men seemed to encompass. It showed he had a very unique style.

The last stop on the tour was of course his bedroom. It was large and covered in notebooks and novels. "You do a lot of reading." I stated somewhat surprised. And mildly impressed.

"Avidly." He admitted attempting to straighten up a bit. I noticed my favorite book in his hands and grabbed his shoulder before he could put it down.

"You've read that?" I asked taking it from his hands.

"Yes ... multiple times. Have you?"

I ran my fingers over the finely worn pages. "This is my favorite book. Butterscotch Blues." I nodded my head before smiling. "It was the first book I ever read that made me cry. It's largely part of the reason I even pursued writing as a career." He seemed surprised by my admission.

"You're a writer? That's dope. I write a little bit myself." He said nodding his head at the pile of notebooks on his nightstand.

I walked over to it and attempted to pick one up. "Don't open that!" He yelled but not aggressively. I pouted as he attempted to take it from my hands.

"No fair." I huffed. He softened a bit but didn't exactly loosen his grip on the notebook.  "I let you in." I gazed into his eyes and he took a step further into me. He looked as if he wanted to say something slick but thought better of it. He released the notebook and I quickly opened it. I read over a couple of pages as he stood just behind me rocking nervously. I closed it and turned into him. His face read of uncertainty and doubt. And probably for the first time tonight I acknowledged him as just a person and not some spoiled celebrity. "This is good. Like really good." I admitted.

"You really think so?" I nodded my head yes. The way his smile covered his face let me know he was genuinely cared about his work. "So do you feel misunderstood?" I asked referring to the passage I had just read from the untitled work. It was deeply emotional and expressed the characters struggle with the inner turmoil of maintaining her image and yet maintain her truth. 

"What made you ask that?" His brow rose as his eyes searched mine for answers. 

"Harper." I admitted referring to the character's name. 

"It's just a story." He shrugged walking over to his closet and slipping his shoes off. 

"That it is." I admitted taking his que. My feet had been barking in these wedges for a minute now. I sat on the edge of his bed and unbuckled them before slipping them off and neatly placing them aside. "But all stories hide a bit of our truths." I said rubbing one of my sore feet. I hadn't heard him walk back over so him taking a seat next to me caused me to jump slightly. 

I looked over into him and he held his hands out signaling for me to place my feet into his lap. I smiled still finding more qualities about him that made me regret initially deeming him a Hollywood snob. He took my feet into his hands and began to softly massage them. His touch was sensual and gentle. I closed my eyes for a moment. Wondering to myself why this man was so talented with his hands. 

"Sometimes I do..." I opened my eyes and realized his face now read of uncertainty. He looked over into me and I matched his stare urging him to continue. "I love what I do but sometimes it doesn't allow me to walk in my truth. I get judged off not only the things I say but even the things I don't." He admitted. I nodded my head in understanding realizing I myself had judged him in the same manner. A wave of guilt washed over me.  "Shits tough. But in a way it motivated me to give writing a try. I have to watch what I say but Harper. She doesn't. She's not even real. At least not physically. But her emotions are." I smiled realizing we shared something in common. "What inspires you?" He asked catching me off guard. I fought to find the right answer but there wasn't one.

"Everything." I admitted. He smiled so I smiled. He released my feet and I softly placed them on the carpet. "I know that sounds bleak but it's my truth." I admitted. 

"An interaction I had with a waiter on a lunch break inspires me. Listening to the radio and hearing a new song for the first time inspires me. Going to a party and meeting this really cool guy who I was unapologetically rude to at first but he wouldn't give up... inspires me." He laughed at that last bit. I took his hand and led him to his balcony. He didn't resist as I pulled him out and over to the railing. "The stars inspire me." 

I looked off into the sky and he did the same. Surprisingly the area he lived in was just dark enough to see quite a few. Not as many as the ocean view we had just left but still charming in its own way. "Sometimes I find myself too inspired. It's like I have too many ideas in my head at once. Too many voices... too many stories that need to be told. I literally have to blast music when I'm writing just to drown some of them out. The loudest one always wins." I stopped talking and turned into him. He grinned and seemed as if he could listen to me talk all day. I blushed before allowing my head to fall in embarrassment. I was telling him things I hadn't ever told anyone else and couldn't understand why. "So what inspires you?" I asked attempting to take some of the heat off of myself. 

He placed his hands on the sides of my neck. "You." He whispered before softly pulling me into a kiss. 

He pulled me into him and I stood on my tip toes in a weak attempt to keep up with him. Now that my wedges were off the inches I lacked in height to him were very clear. He noticed and removed his hands from my neck quickly placing them on my ass and throwing me into the air. I instinctively wrapped my legs around his waist as he turned to take me back into his bedroom. 

He softly took a seat as our kiss intensified. I could feel his fingers softly digging into my back as I cupped his face and continued to wrap my tongue around his. He found my zipper and slowly pulled it down. He broke our kiss so that he could pull my romper down onto my waist. The way he stared at my breast and then at the little pug my belly made when in sitting position had me feeling a little self conscious. I placed my arms around myself only to have him swiftly pull them away. "What are you doing?" He asked searching my face for answers. I didn't know what to say so I said nothing. "You're perfect." He whispered placing soft kiss onto my chest before  taking each of my nipples into his mouth and tugging at them. 

I placed my hands around his head as he began to kiss and suck on the sides of my tummy. The way he was gripping my ass as his member grew beneath my had my box mimicking the Clipse Grinding beat. I wanted to feel him deep inside me. I needed to. I found his belt buckle and struggled to unbuckle it. We were so tangled up in each other at this point even the simplest movements seemed impossible.

"Well... well... well...What do we have here?" A familiar voice quizzed. I quickly threw my arm across my chest as both our heads whipped around in the direction from which it came. 

"Lydia what the fuck?" He yelled as I rolled off of him and attempted to pull my romper back up. My mind was racing as I scrambled to find my shoes. 

"Now when you told me you wanted to fuck the bitch you neglected to mention you'd be doing so in our home." She growled. 'Who the fuck was she calling a bitch?' was my initial reaction causing me to stand to my feet all the while neglecting to even attempt to place my other shoe on. Wait ... did she say our house. 

"You told me this was your house." I forced through clenched teeth. 

"It is!" He yelled looking back and fourth between us both. 

"Well how did she get in?" I growled becoming more and more frustrated with the scene unfolding in front of me. 

"I don't know!" He squealed in a convincing tone. His focus was on me now. I looked into his eyes and wondered if there was any truth in his admission. 

Lydia held up a key that quickly caught my attention. "So She has a key to 'your' house?" I asked quickly becoming enraged. 

"No! Of course not!" He lied to my face and I realized his acting skills were far better than I had ever realized. I simply nodded in the direction of which she stood dangling a key between her nubby fingers. 

"Bitch you have a key to my house?" He feigned ignorance. She smiled and I decided I had seen enough.   

I stomped past her struggling to keep my balance seeing as how I only wore one shoe. I was livid and needed nothing more than to get the hell away from all this madness. I could hear them exchange a few words and then him running up behind me. I stopped in my tracks and turned to him. He opened his mouth to speak but I quickly cut him off. "Give me your keys!" I demanded. He seemed confused as to what the fuck I was talking about. He attempted to speak once more but the pain he soon felt from me digging my nails into his balls quickly took his breath away. "Give me your keys!" I yelled before swiftly twisting his future children in my palm. He quickly dug into his pocket and handed me the keys to his car. 

I snatched them from his fingers before gathering my things from the stand near his door. I jogged down the steps and quickly hopped into his car. Pulling off into the night. Wondering how I had allowed myself to get caught up in this Hollyweird ass bullshit. 

[venussinclair3]

Fun While It Lasted

Disclaimer? I haven’t written in a long time so I’m a little rusty but yeah this is just something short that I kind of liked. Would really appreciate constructive feedback (please be nice I’m sensitive)! Should I continue this? Should I put it on Wattpad? Anyway, enjoy! 

"You live next door yet you somehow always take forever to get here." She was laying in bed in a pink oversized shirt when he snuck through her window.

"Sorry, I was looking for my crayons." His hands were empty, "Couldn't find them. Can I use yours?" He plastered a large smile on his face because who could say no to such a cute face?

"This was your idea you know. How are you going to propose we draw each other and have no supplies whatsoever?" She said as she walked to the bookcase that stood in the back of her room. The third shelf was riddled with paintbrushes, sharpies, and crayons. She had meant to clean it last week but never found the time. Maybe she'll get to it next week.

"Because I knew my good friend Oasis would have my back." He jumped on her bed and took off his green converses before grabbing Bimbo. 

Bimbo was as old as their friendship. Oasis had received the teddy bear on her fifth birthday, the same day he knocked down her birthday cake because he was running recklessly. She clung on to Bimbo as she cried herself to sleep that night and swore to hate him for as long as she lived. 

There was a cake on the table when she went downstairs the next morning, "Blue's mom made it as a way of saying sorry about what happened yesterday." Her mother cut her a slice and gave it to her. It was better than she could have ever imagined. The chocolate cake covered in pink fondant danced in her mouth as the richness of the chocolate chips exploded. She hugged Bimbo tight while devouring the cake, deciding that maybe the little boy wasn't as bad as she thought.

Oasis dumped the supplies on her bed and sat across from Blue, her legs crossed, sketchbook in hand, "My drawing is going to be better than yours." 

"Doubt it. I'm a genius." And he was. Straight A student since fifth grade, Blue was the smartest boy in his class. He won the science fair three times in a row and lied his way out of trouble all the time. He lied Oasis out of trouble too because she could never do it herself. 

They both got to work, each with a different method: Oasis lightly drew an outline; Blue began working on her left eye. The sounds of the TV downstairs leaked into her bedroom. The Property Brothers were debating over which color they should paint the kitchen of a Nashville home they were working on. "I think the kitchen should be white" mumbled Blue, having started the right eye.

"What?" asked Oasis as she looked up from her sketch.

"Nothing. Where are your speakers? I wanna play some music." She pointed to the bookcase, second shelf.

"Don't play anything stupid."

"Why are your parents home?"

"No, I just don't want to listen to anything stupid."

He chuckled. Bringing the speaker onto the bed and connecting it to his phone, I Wanna Be Yours by Artic Monkeys enveloped them. They both began bobbing their heads. 

They played this song when they snuck out for the first time. Oasis jumped out her window and was pretty sure she had broken something, but the adrenaline of defying her parents rushed through her body to numb the pain. By the time she reached the park and met up with Blue, the only thing on her mind was how much fun they were going to have at Mielle's party. And they did have fun. They danced, ate, and drank. She successfully snuck back home with Blue's help and fell asleep the second her head hit her pillow. What she had failed to consider was that the party was on a Thursday night, that her parents would never let her miss a day of school and she was a shit actress. She went to school hungover and was grounded for a month. Blue was company during her punishment.

"You have a really sharp jawline" Oasis stated. She had finally finished with the outline of his face. He looked at her and grinned, taking it as a compliment rather than an observation.

"Thank you, princess." Nothing got under her skin more than that nickname. They fell silent again, a silence she was comfortable with, but he wasn't. As he drew her nose, he begged for her to say something.  Anything to convince him that she wasn't mad at him, that they were still friends, that she wasn't just tolerating him.

"Have you seen the new house yet?" Thank god. His prayers were answered when she raised the question so he spoke without thinking, "Yeah the new house is great! My room is way bigger and we even have a dishwasher, although I doubt my mom will even want to use it. She'll probably still make me wash them by hand because that woman hates me. Oh and the neighborhood is super nice and I met the girl next door. She's really cool. We've been texting and stuff.” His enthusiasm stung. Blue was moving to Chicago. He was moving 11 hours and 54 minutes away. And he was excited about it. And maybe she shouldn't take it so personally, but when her best friend was rambling about how cool his neighbor is and how he's been talking to her for a while, she couldn't help but feel as if she was about to be replaced. She faked a smile and said, "That sounds exciting. Can't wait to visit you in the summer." Oasis was a shit actress. None of what he said sounded exciting to her, "I'll miss you."

She added another hair stroke to his thick, straight eyebrows and refused to look up because she couldn't promise herself she won't cry. Blue didn't take her eyes off of her for a while. He stared at the way the corners of her round lips curved downward, making it look like she was always sad about something. "I just think it's stupid to move the summer before your senior year." He sighed, "Oasis." The tip of her ears got red as her name escaped from his lips. 

The last time he had called her “Oasis” was two weeks ago. She had snuck into his room after he blew up her phone, crying that it was urgent. Each time he had told her that it was urgent, it never was. She hopped through his window to find him at his desk, two Surfer Cooler Capri Sun in front of him. "Oasis, I'm moving in two months." She stopped mid sip. Her brown eyes ran across his face, scanning it for any sign that could give away this sick joke. There was no sign. He was serious. Blue was leaving New York.

It wasn't fair to be mad at him for moving. It's not like he could say no. But she had to be mad at someone. She decided the universe was to blame. "Have you made your college list yet?" he asked in a weak attempt to change the subject. She looked at the way his red lips were slightly open as he anticipated her answer, " Not really. Community college or NYU or Howard. I don't know. You?" 

"No idea either. Maybe an Ivy?" He knew he was Dartmouth material but he still sought her approval. He always had.

He went shopping with her right before the eighth-grade dance. They both didn't have dates so they decided to go together as friends. They walked into the Old Navy with "Sale" signs plastered in the front. She thought the signs were useless at this point because when were they not having a sale of some kind? He walked into the dressing room with several shirts out of his $20 budget, and once he had tried them all on, Blue marched to where she was sitting, impatiently waiting for him. 

"You are not wearing that purple button up."

"Why?" He cried.

"It's going to clash with my dress and it's literally hideous." She walked back to the rack of button-ups and picked out a green dress shirt for him. "You look so much better in green." Green was his favorite color ever since. They dominated the dance floor at the event and she won a raffle for a Bosse speaker. They spent the next weeks dismantling rumors that they were dating. 

"I already picture you thriving at MIT." They both chuckled. He reached for the black to start coloring in the curls of her afro; she reached for the orange to recreate his buzzcut. They fell silent again. "I'll miss you too." She offered him a small smile but that couldn't mask the sadness of her eyes. "We can still facetime and text every day," Blue offered. 

"You know it won't be the same." He did know that but his hope lied in the fact that if he never said it out loud, it would be less true. "I take that back. You're more of a Cornell type." Another weak attempt at changing the subject but he went along with it, " I think NYU might be good for you. You'll get to stay close to your sister." 

Moya was a prodigy. She began piano lessons at three, and seven years later she played at their aunt's wedding during the bridal entrance. "I think Moya will be fine without me. She'll get even more attention from my parents if I'm gone." The red of his lips was hard to replicate. It lay somewhere between crimson and cherry. "I'll miss that little devil. She promised she was going to compose me a song but never did."

"Pretty sure she had a crush on you." Blue burst into laughter so loud, Oasis barely realized that the album had started all over again and I Wanna Be Yours was playing. "Seriously?" He was in disbelief.

"Yeah, she would always ask when you were coming over and would try to hang out with us all the time."

He wiped the tear from the corner of his eye, "That's adorable." He added the finishing touches to her face: the scar on her chin that she got after he pushed her a little too hard and she fell, the beauty mark right above her lip, the curl at the top of her hair which she complained never behaved like the rest. "Finished." She said. She ripped the page from her sketchbook and walked to the bookcase once more. She grabbed two sheet protectors that were tucked between stacks of books and slipped the drawing inside. He did the same. She stared at the image of Blue, afraid that if she didn't memorize the details of his visage, he would walk out of her room and she would forget him. Forget the memories they created together. The secrets they shared together. She was afraid to forget how much she loved him. 

He handed her his drawing and as she saw how he had captured her beauty with nothing but her color pencils, she said, "I'm coming to terms with the fact that we weren't meant to be in each other's lives forever. But it was fun while it lasted...right?"

[the-master-cylinder]

SUMMARY A terrifying centuries-old evil has awakened in the form of the wicked, voluptuous Lilith (Isa Anderson). Lilith, in the updated guise of a beautiful model, infiltrates the offices of a successful fashion magazine with the aim of corrupting the world via mass media and uses her beauty and her insatiable lust as a potent lifeforce which spreads death and destruction to all who dare to succumb to her charms. Lilith becomes the object of insane desire for all who brave her seductive gaze. Only true love can withstand her awesome powers and only one man (Linden Ashby) is strong enough to test them in a frightening test of will and death tango with Night Angel, the mistress of hell.

DEVELOPMENT Night Angel is the third horror film produced by Paragon Arts, the first two being Witchboard (1986) and Night of the Demons (1988). The company was formed two years ago by Walter Josten.

I had heard about people financing films the way we did it in the commodities market-you’re dealing with investors who want to take a shot and hope it hits big. I thought, they’ve got to love a film investment: it’s risky; it’s speculative; there’s a good chance for the upside, and the downside, with video and cable, is buffered. So we went out and looked for a script and came up with Oija, written by Kevin Tenney, who wanted to direct. I liked his philosophy: he wasn’t an artsy-craftsy director; he wanted to do a film that was gonna do some business. We formed a limited partnership, produced the film and went out and shopped it.”

The result was Witchboard, an above average supernatural thriller whose $2.3 million investment recouped $8 million at the box office. This impressive result convinced Josten to attempt a second horror film, Night of the Demons, a $2.7. million investment that traded away much of the charm of Witchboard in favor of a more extensive use of graphic special effects. “You have to believe you’re selling to a certain audience; otherwise, don’t make the movie,” said Josten, who admitted, “Night of the Demons tends to-if I may use the word pander a little more to its audience. It doesn’t have the story Witchboard does, but it has great special effects. We went more for that target kid audience.”

The story of Night Angel was the brainchild of Joe Augustyn, who also produced and wrote Night of the Demons. A fan of old horror movies, Augustyn wanted to create a horror villain based on mythology, as Bram Stoker did with Dracula. “I did a lot of research,” he said. “I read tons of books. I had known about Lilith for a long time, through friends who were radical lesbian feminists in the early 70s. The more I researched, the more Lilith seemed a natural.”

Augustyn pitched the idea to Josten, who immediately liked it. “When Joe presented it, I thought this idea was really good—to have a villainess steeped in reality,” Josten explained. “This person may not be real, but you can look her up in the dictionary and read about her in the encyclopedia, and there’s a lot of lore that’s never been exploited on film before.”

Augustyn’s first draft script then went through extensive revision under the supervision of Josten before the search for a director started. Josten and Augustyn had narrowed their search down to four when Dominique Othenin-Girard popped in on a fluke. He had been in the country only a few months and was introduced to them by his apartment manager, who had written a script for Paragon Arts.

Paragon’s initial interest in Girard’s work came after a viewing of Cop Trap “Piège à flics” (1985), a French TV movie which the director himself acknowledges as “the doorway to my career in the U.S.” Piège à flics became something of a controversy in Europe”. states Girard with more than a hint of pride. It was produced for a prime time television slot, filled with violence and sex and money. And I guess the Americans understood it.

Lilith, female demonic figure of Jewish folklore. Her name and personality are thought to be derived from the class of Mesopotamian demons called lilû (feminine: lilītu), and the name is usually translated as “night monster.” A cult associated with Lilith survived among some Jews as late as the 7th century CE. The evil she threatened, especially against children and women in childbirth, was said to be counteracted by the wearing of an amulet bearing the names of certain angels. – Britannica

Girard battled the European censors in defense of his cut. “A film director is somewhat of an outlaw. We have to break open the taboos society inflicts on the people.” The public flooded him with letters, some seriously accusing Girard of being the actual devil himself. But along with those came others of very high praise. Piège à flics went on to garner top European award nominations for it’s principal leads.

“He had the best ideas, seemed the most enthusiastic, and really understood the subject matter,” said Augustyn. “Ironically, when we had first started talking about a director, we were thinking maybe Paul Verhoeven-we wanted a European director who would bring a level of sophistication to the film. A lot of young American directors come out of film school with certain limitations, especially in the area of sex. It seems anything sexual they lump into T&A. We thought Dominique could bring in the sexuality without being tacky.”

Girard was given a copy of the script and shown two previous Paragon Arts films, Night of the Demons and Tips, the latter a comedy. Said Girard, “I was impressed by the goodwill but not the manufacture of Tips. I thought Night of the Demons was a pretty straightforward, exploitative movie. That disturbed me in a way. I thought it was very empty, but I liked in some way the manufacture of the film.”

Girard continued, “We had a five-hour meeting after the two films, in which they expected me to analyze the films and the script. The script I thought was rather weak, having no real hero nor goal to the hero. Walter, Joe and Jeff Geoffray, supervising producer said, ‘How interesting!’ instead of ‘How dare he! We immediately started to work on it.”

Girard, whose stepfather is an archeologist, was already familiar with many of the world’s ancient myths, including Lilith, and he used that background to help give input to the script. “What was fascinating for me was the (notion of) two kinds of sexuality: the one that links Adam and Eve, where male and female link together in order to reach God, and the other kind, more supported by Lilith, which is just lust, sexual pleasure to manipulate. What was also fascinating was the fact that she is a legendary figure. I dug into the legend in order to find images for the film to motivate myself on how to portray this woman.”

The scripting sessions continued for three weeks while the film was simultaneously going through pre-production planning. “After three weeks, I felt that we regressed,” recalled Girard. “Unfortunately, a lot of these images never made it into the film. I found a lot of restriction on the side of Walter Josten, who thought that some of these ideas were too European, too weird. I don’t think they were, but he was a more conservative figure. I believe sometimes he is imitating too many successful films, instead of going for the original film. That was our conflict. He wanted to apply not only one formula, but mix several formulas into the same film, which I didn’t think was working too well. I was suggesting to him to be simpler about it… But who cares? The film will speak for itself.”

PRE-PRODUCTION The next hurdle was casting the part of Lilith. “We wanted to use an actress that we’d never seen before, who could be anybody, because Lilith takes many forms.” said Josten. Dominique Girard added, “I didn’t want to go for the simple bimbo who could lift up her skirt and take off her bra. That was not the point; the point was the charisma.”

Finally, after literally hundreds of actresses were auditioned, Isa Anderson was chosen. “Some actresses who came in were incredible knockouts until someone tried to direct them to be seductive, and then they were like little girls,” said Augustyn. “We were really lucky to get Isa. She really got what we were trying to do. She read books about Lilith. She is elegant and very sensual. She was a model, so she can pull off a lot of different looks, and she’s a really good actress. Her accent is nondescript. Dominique and I, if we could have run with it, probably would have gone more for a middle Eastern accent, to be true to the myth, but Walter was really concerned. He wanted her to sound as if she could have come from anywhere—which also makes sense, on one level.”

After final script revisions, in order to bring the project to a level manageable on its budget, the film shot four six-day weeks last year on various locations scattered around Los Angeles. “I have experience making small-budget films in Europe,” said Girard. “I have a reputation of giving a very polished look with very little money. I of course wanted to obtain this in order to transcend the formula of an exploitative movie. I believe we achieved an incredible quality. The producers are very glad about it, because they know this film will establish them as a company with credibility.”

SPECIAL EFFECTS The rushed production schedule prevented Steve Johnson’s crew from being able to film many of the planned special effects during principal photography. By that time, Johnson had left to work on James Cameron’s The Abyss, so the additional effects were assigned to KNB. Fortunately, the budget included additional money for shooting pick-ups, so after the principle footage was assembled, the crew shot an additional eight days of effects footage late last year.

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Steve Johnson was hired to handle the psychological requirements. Girard calls the effects artist Magnificent. He was very precise. A great pleasure. He had the hand going into the chest and you could see the fingers, just plunging. The chest piece was a seamless appliance and there was a fake arm used for Lilith, where you could actually see the blood traveling through her veins.”

Likewise, when additional pick up shots were needed, the magnificent requirements continued, even without the services of Johnson.

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Girard found working with both teams to be an educational and rewarding experience. “I had some special effects in my previous movies but never to the extent of Night Angel,” he said. “I enjoyed learning about special effects and learning how to shoot special effects in order to sell them. Special effects people know what they need to get, but they don’t necessarily know how to sell the effect to the audience. That’s my part of the work. I’ve got to push them not only to do the effect correctly, but to give me the freedom to shoot the effect with a specific camera angle and movement. Instead of having a prosthetic person totally steady —that wouldn’t sell the effect. I need that person to move, and that sometimes makes for incredible complications.”

POST PRODUCTION After completing the effects photography, Girard left the production temporarily, going to Salt Lake City to film Halloween V. Paragon Arts, meanwhile, put the project on hiatus for a couple of months in order to raise money to complete post-production work. In mid-June, Girard and Steve Johnson returned to the production to film an opening prologue sequence; Girard is also supervising the soundtrack’s music and effects. The score is by Cory Lerios, of Pablo Cruise fame.

“If a horror film is successful, it is very much because of the soundtrack,” Girard claimed. “I love films because they are fluid-they are composed more like a piece of music than a novel, to my mind. Corey Lerios is a very imaginative composer. He’s a bit taken short by the number of cues he has to do. There is in the movie an enormous amount of music, but I don’t think we are drowning the film with music. It’s music which clarifies the story, which imposes the threat of Lilith upon our young characters even when she’s not there-because the music carries her. It is a complimentary story-telling point instead of just an accompanying soundtrack.”

  Night Angel (1990) Music Tracks

CAST/CREW Director Dominique Othenin-Girard Writers Joe Augustyn, Walter Josten

Isa Jank        Lilith (as Isa Andersen) Linden Ashby Craig Debra Feuer Kirstie Helen Martin Sadie Karen Black  Rita Doug Jones  Ken

CREDITS/REFERENCES/SOURCES/BIBLIOGRAPHY Horrorfan#04 Gorezone#13 Slaughterhouse#05 blu-ray.com

    Night Angel (1990) Retrospective SUMMARY A terrifying centuries-old evil has awakened in the form of the wicked, voluptuous Lilith (Isa Anderson).

[dictionaryrainbowarchive]

Old College Ave

PART 1

Jennifer glared at the ceiling. Did that slut ever stop? It wasn’t just the sounds of the shaking bed, Jennifer could clearly make out the moans and the “fuck me”s that leaked through the thin floorboards. How was she supposed to get any studying done with all of that going on?

Leaving her glasses on her desk, the redhead co-ed headed out into the living room. Her brunette roommate was on the sofa, watching a stream of a biology lecture on her laptop. She looked up at Jennifer. “The ditz at it again?”

“Yeah. I’m so sick of it. It’s like living in a porno.”

Gwen laughed. “It could be worse, they could actually be listening to the cheesy music.”

“With that euro-beat garbage that they listen to, they might as well.”

Jennifer walked into the kitchen and came back with the broom. “Going to try the broom method first?” Gwen asked her.

“Yeah, then I’ll try calling.” Jennifer went back into her room and hit the ceiling with the end of the broomstick. BANG-BANG! Thud-Thud came the response of the bed as the bimbo and whatever guy she had up there fucked to the rhythm of Jennifer’s pounding. BANG-BANG! Thud-thud BANG-BANG! Thud-thud BANG-BANG! Thud-thud They’re mocking me!

Jennifer threw the broom down and picked up the phone. She dialed the number for the girls upstairs. It rang a couple of times and then someone picked it up.

“Hey, this is Sheri!”

“Sheri, it’s Jennifer from downstairs.”

“Hey, Jenny! You wanna come up and play?” Jennifer had long ago given up on trying to get the girls upstairs to call her by her name.

“No,” Jennifer responded. “I was wondering if you could get Cheri to screw a little bit quieter.”

“Tee-hee. Stop, I’m like on the phone. No. Oh yes! Oh god! That feels so good.” The phone clunked and clattered as it fell to the floor. Jennifer could hear the beginnings of Cheri’s and whoever she was with resume their humping.

Sighing, she hung up and dialed the super. He picked it up after a couple of rings. “Mr. Avery, this is Jennifer in room 101. Those bimbos in 201 are at it again. This has to stop. It’s unreasonable.”

“I’m sorry, Jennifer. It’s only 8 o’clock. It doesn’t become a nuisance until 11 and I’ve told you, legally, I can’t do anything until then.”

“It’s a nuisance now! I don’t care what time it is. You need to do something about it or Gwen and I are moving out. So, who’s it going to be, us, the studious girls that never cause any problems, or them, the retards that can’t even pay their rent on time?”

“I’ll be over at the place tomorrow and I’ll talk to Sheri and Cheri then. I promise you this is the last time you’ll have to make this call.”

The line went dead and Jennifer put the phone down. She couldn’t believe it. She’d never have to study through the sound of fucking ever again. Jennifer headed into the living room. her face was beaming.

“What’s up?” Gwen asked through the moans coming down from upstairs. Either Sheri had moved into her living room, or Cheri had started there.

“Mr. Avery’s going to kick those bimbos out!”

“Did he really say that?”

“Well, he didn’t say those words exactly, but I told him that we had decided it’s either us or them and he said he’d talk to them in the morning. I can only assume...”

Gwen closed her laptop and punched the air with a fist. “Yes! That’s the best news I’ve heard since we moved in here. Grab your stuff. Let’s head down to the coffee shop and celebrate. We might actually get some studying done there.”

* * *

The following week was the most peaceful Jennifer had had in her college career. It was everything she’d thought life would be like when she moved out of the dorms and into the furnished apartment. There were no late night parties to keep her up or disturb her when some of her friends came over. She only had to share a shower with Gwen. The place was only a short distance from the park, which was perfect for her morning runs and going outside to read or study when the weather was nice.

The park. That was actually where she’d met her upstairs neighbors for the first time. They’d come out to sunbathe in outifts that were several sizes too small and sent their breasts overflowing everywhere. If the bottoms hadn’t been T-backs, ass flesh would have squeezed out the sides as well, but as it was, they were pretty much just out in the open.

Still, Sheri and Cheri had seemed nice enough, if on the slow side. They’d made casual conversation with Jennifer and she had been surprised to find out that Sheri had been a chemistry major at the University. She’d transferred out of the chem department and was, at the time, failing out of mass communications. Cheri had dropped out long before. But things had gone rapidly downhill after that first conversation.

She was watching The Cove when Gwen came home. Tears were rolling down Jennifer’s cheek, even though it was her fifth time to watch the film.

“Why do you keep watching that? It’s just so sad. Whenever I see it, I can never tell if I’m getting sad or pissed,” Gwen told her.

Jennifer hugged her legs to her chest and continued watching. “It inspires me to want to change the world. It gives me drive.”

“I think you’ll change the world no matter what,” Gwen said and went into her room.

Jennifer watched the flickering images of dolphins being killed on the TV screen. I’m so empty. Jennifer paused the DVD and looked around. Gwen was in her room with the door closed and no one else was around. Jennifer shrugged and pushed the play button.

So alone!

Jennifer paused it again. “You say something?” she called out to Gwen.

Gwen came out of her room holding a bath towel and change of clothes. “Nope.”

She was either hearing things, or picking up dialogue from the movie she’d never noticed before. Jennifer put it out of her mind and started the movie again. Gwen headed into the bathroom.

The sound of the shower came through the bathroom door and it was followed by a high pitched scream from Gwen. Jennifer jumped off the couch and ran into the bathroom. The shower was still running and a damp, shivering Gwen was hugging her arms to her modest chest.

“What happened?”

“There’s no hot water,” Gwen explained through chattering teeth.

Jennifer reached her hand into the shower and sure enough, the water was ice cold. She turned the water off. As the water coming out from the shower head stopped, the sink exploded behind her.

Water sprayed out from around the knobs, cold water. Both of the girls screamed and went running out of the bathroom. They could hear the sound of water coming out of the kitchen. Peaking her head around the corner, Jennifer could see the kitchen sink was worse off than the bathroom. Water gushed out like a fountain, soaking everything.

“Oh my god! We’ve got to call Mr Avery.” Gwen ran into her room to get dressed and Jennifer ran to get the phone. She dialed Mr. Avery and told him what was happening.

Fifteen minutes later, Mr Avery was banging on the door and Jennifer let him in. He took a quick look in the kitchen then ran back out and down into the basement. “Gotta turn the water off!” he cried. Jennifer watched the fountain slowly slow to a drip then stop.

Mr Avery came back up and inspected the damage. “This is bad,” he said. “What happened?” He was panting slightly. Mr Avery wasn’t what anyone would call fat, but he wasn’t the most athletic looking person in the world. Maybe when he was younger he might have been, but now that he was somewhere in his 40’s, he had to use a chin-strap beard to help define his jaw-line.

Gwen was now dressed and had come out to look at the soaked kitchen with Jennifer and Mr Avery. “I don’t know,” she answered. “I got in to take a shower and turned on the hot water and just freezing cold water came out.”

“I went in to see what the matter was and turned off the shower, then everything just erupted,” Jennifer finished.

Mr Avery nodded. “When I was down in the basement, I found that a pipe leading from your hot water heater was busted, which explains the lack of hot water, but I have no idea what would cause this,” he said and gestured to the drenched kitchen.

“Can you fix it?” Gwen asked.

Mr Avery scratched his head. “Yeah, but it’s going to take several weeks to get everything fixed and to get all the damage here all cleaned up.”

Jennifer’s stomach dropped. “What does that mean? That we won’t have hot water or be able to use our kitchen for weeks?”

“Oh, no. 201.. the place above you.. is empty. I can just put you up there.”

“Will we have hot water?” Gwen asked.

“Yeah, each place here has its own water heater, so you’re fine.”

Jennifer frowned. She wasn’t excited about moving, or inhabiting that apartment after those bimbos. “There’s no way around it?”

“Not unless you want me trooping through here with the plumbers and don’t mind cold showers.”

Gwen shivered. “No, thank you. I don’t mind moving. You cleaned the place, right?”

“Um, yeah. Well, not personally. I hired out and haven’t actually seen the place since Cheri and Sheri moved out. There might be a few things of theirs left around up there. You can just throw out anything you don’t need, as long as it’s not the furniture or pots and pans and stuff like that.”

Jennifer stewed. “Come on, Jennifer. We can’t survive in this place. It’s not like we can catch any diseases from just living in the same place as them.”

“It’s not that, it’s just... I’ve finally gotten comfortable here and now I’ve got to move? This sucks.”

Mr Avery gave her shoulder a fatherly pat. “Just be happy there is another place for you to go.”

“I guess. Come on Gwen. Let’s go get our things packed up.”

The girls left the super to fiddle in the kitchen and went into their separate rooms. One nice thing about the place being furnished was that Jennifer didn’t have to pack up that much. She had all of her clothes in a suitcase and her books in various bags, all packed up and ready to go in under an hour.

Gwen took a bit longer and Jennifer was halfway through removing posters and packing their stuff from the living room by the time Gwen finished her bedroom. They decided that Gwen would pack up the bathroom and that Jennifer would gather the food supplies from the kitchen.

Mr Avery was under the sink messing with something or other when Jennifer came in. He popped his head out and smiled at Jennifer. “You girls almost ready to go up?”

“Yeah, Gwen’s doing the bathroom and as soon as I finish in here, we’ll be ready to go on up.”

Mr Avery disappeared under the sink again and Jennifer started to take things out of the cabinets. She stuffed them in old grocery bags that they had laying around. Since all the dishes and pots and pans came with the apartment, she didn’t have to pack them, she only had to bother with the food and cleaning supplies.

Gwen came in and surveyed the room. “You done, Jennifer?”

“Yeah, this is the last one.”

Mr Avery popped out from under the counter. “Let me help you girls.”

“That’s awfully nice of you.”

The three of them spent the next twenty minutes hauling the grocery bags and suitcases up the stairs. At last when they finished, they handed their old key over to Mr Avery and got the new one.

“If there’s anything you don’t want or need, just gather it up and give me a call. I’ll be over quite often trying to fix the damage downstairs so I can haul it away for you.” Mr Avery said. The girls wished him goodbye and closed the door.

Gwen set to unpacking all the food and utensils that they’d brought with them. Jennifer was pulling all the dishes out of the cupboards and loading them in the dishwasher. Even if they had been cleaned after the bimbos had moved out, she wanted to see them cleaned for herself.

She’d finished with the dishes and was starting on the pots. “Mr Avery really is a sweet guy. Not only did he chose us over Sheri and Cheri, but was so helpful tonight.”

Gwen laughed. “Yeah, maybe he’ll help us paint the walls, too.”

Gwen was referring to the bight pastel colors that their new place was done up in. All during the moving process, Gwen had complained about them and several times had asked Mr Avery to come by and paint them. He’d declined because he was going to be so busy with their old place, but told them they could do it themselves.

Initially, Jennifer had agreed with Gwen and was ready to go buy some white paint after classes the next day, but as she rinsed off the last of the pans, she decided she liked the warm yellow of the kitchen. Maybe the pale green of the living room could also stay.

Finished in the kitchen, the girls headed into the living room where all of their stuff collectively sat. Jennifer looked pleadingly at Gwen. “Come on, let me have the light blue room. I could stand that as even the permanent color.”

“I called dibs first. There’s no way I can stay in the hot pink monstrosity. You can suck it up for one night. We’ll paint it first tomorrow.”

Sighing, Jennifer picked up a box of books and headed into her room. She set the box down and stared at the queen sized bed. How many times had she heard people fucking on that? Would the springs still have any bounce left to them?

Going back into the living room, she picked up her other box of school supplies, set it on top of the first box, then went back for her suit case. She pulled it into her room and opened the walk in closet for the first time. She turned on the light and was stunned by what she saw. All of Sheri or Cheri’s clothes were still hanging from the rack.

Jennifer pulled down a dress and looked at it. It was a shiny silver material that had large looping front and back. The back would have been open all the way to the top of her rear and the front pretty much would have left her chest exposed. Who would wear something like that?

She carried the dress out of the closet and threw it in the garbage can. When she went back to the closet, the door was closed. She hadn’t closed it...had she? Jennifer tried to open it. It wouldn’t move. She pulled and yanked on the door but it wouldn’t budge.

Letting out a whimper, Jennifer sat on the edge of her bed. What was she going to do? All of her clothes were in her suitcase, which was stuck in the closet. She put her elbows on her knees and rested her chin in her palms. Well, Mr Avery would be back in the morning and she could get him to open it and take all the crap out with him.

Jennifer took a deep breath. What was that smell? She sniffed again. It was something she’d smelt before, but where? It was kind of musky. She inhaled deeply again. She was getting horny. Jennifer hadn��t touched herself in awhile, so she wasn’t entirely surprised when she reached down into her panties and found herself soaking.

Well, not much else to do. No harm in a little “me” time. Jennifer threw her shirt off and dropped her bra down with it, her pants and underwear soon followed. She laid back on the bed and rubbed her clit. That’s when she realized what the smell was, it was the smell of sex.

The smell of countless couplings and triplings and quadruplings had become a permanent fixture in the room. Jennifer got hotter. She was fucking herself at the place where all that pleasure occurred. What would it have been like to be Sheri or Cheri and have been relentlessly fucked on this bed?

What a nasty thought.

She needed to stop thinking like this.

She needed to get her clothes and get out of here.

She needed to stick her fingers in her cunt.

Jennifer couldn’t remember the last time she’d done more than play with her clit, but the desire to feel something inside her tore at her. She stuck two fingers in her slit and started sliding them in and out. She felt so hot, she was adding her own scent to the room.

As pleasing as her fingers were, Jennifer needed more. Something was filling her with desire. She was craving for something inside the bed stand. She didn’t know how she knew, but she knew what it was. Opening the drawer, there was a large pink dildo. It was one of the rubber types with a flat base.

She pulled it out of the drawer and looked at it. Who had this been inside of? Was it clean? Her aching pussy was demanding attention though, and she had found a new toy. She couldn’t. She wouldn’t. A moan escaped her lips as she slid the dildo inside of her. She was so dirty.

She used both hands to pump the dildo in and out of her. For the first time ever, she was vocal during her masturbation. She moaned and sighed as intense pleasure coursed through her body. Why hadn’t she done this before?

Her arms were getting tired, but she wasn’t finished yet. She looked over at the waste basket with the dress in it. She hopped off the bed, grabbed the basket, and turned it upside-down, scattering the contents on the floor. She put it on the bed and placed the flat base of the dildo on top of it. She stood on the bed and lowered herself down on her makeshift man. Holding the dildo in place with one hand, she bounced herself up and down on the plastic cock.

“Oh god! This feels so fucking good!” She could feel it, she could feel the orgasm coming. She let out a series of high pitched squeaks and then came. Her legs shook as it finally hit her. She came around the dildo and her juices flowed down onto the basket. She fell back onto the bed and passed out.

* * *

Jennifer woke up, yawned and stretched. Morning already. She hadn’t slept that well in ages. She hopped out of bed and looked at the mess her bedroom was in. The dildo and the trash can were on the floor, along with her discarded clothes and the sexy...no trashy dress she’d pulled out of the closet.

She wanted to throw it away. She needed to want to throw it away. She didn’t want to feel it slip down her torso, but her hands were moving on their own. Instead of dressing in her clothes, she put the hot dress on. The worst part was she was fairly certain that she looked good in it.

Looking in the full body mirror on the closet door, Jennifer drank herself in. She didn’t really have the breasts to pull it off. While on the small size, they seemed to fill out the dress out more than she thought they would. If they were just bigger, they would have created tantalizing cleavage that would have any club boy turning into putty. Maybe after finals, she and Gwen would go out to a club or something and she could wear it then. What was she thinking? She should be thinking about taking it off and getting ready for class.

One nice thing about the new place was that there were dressing mirrors in the bedrooms. On the first floor, Jennifer and Gwen took turns in the small bathroom. Now Jennifer could get ready in the privacy of her own room.

Like the closet, though, which ever of the bimbos that had lived in this room had left all of her makeup. It was like she hadn’t actually moved out, but just vanished one day. Jennifer picked up the trash can and held it up below the counter. She reached out to sweep all of the makeup and perfumes into the garbage.

She felt a desire welling up inside of her, not the desire to dump all the garbage, rather the need to put it on. The dress is one thing, I’m not putting this trash on. Jennifer puckered her lips and admired the pink gloss. It looked good. I guess there’s no harm in playing a little dress up.

After finishing putting on considerably more makeup than she ever had, Jennifer went to the closet and yanked open the door. Pushing her suitcase aside, she found a pair of black pumps with 2 inch heels, the smallest heeled shoes in the closet.

Jennifer slipped them on and was surprised to find that they were the right size. She walked around her room in them, trying to get use to the elevated heels. These go quite well with the dress.

Glancing over at the clock, Jennifer’s heart stopped. Was that really the time? Fuck! Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck! She’d slept through her 9:30, 12:15, and 2:30. The only class she was going to have a chance of making was her 4:00. Even then she had to leave immediately. Not having any time to change, Jennifer grabbed her keys and ran out the door dressed as she was.

Class that day was the worst class that she’d ever had. Everyone had stared at her as she walked in, most of the guys continued to stare throughout the class. It must have been the constant attention that she was getting, but she couldn’t concentrate. Nothing the teacher said made sense. Half way through class, Jennifer gave up and just started doodling in her notebook.

To say she was relieved to be back home was an understatement. She could finally get out of these stupid clothes and maybe she could try to figure out what the teacher had been talking about. Jennifer walked into her place and saw Gwen slouched on the couch with her computer on her lap and a hand down her pants. There was moaning coming from the computer.

Seeing Jennifer come through the door, Gwen pulled her hand out of her pants and hurriedly shut the lid to her laptop.

“Whatcha doin’, Gwen?” Jennifer asked with a knowing smile.

“Nothing... What do you mean what am I doing? What club did you just get back from?”

Jennifer grinned at her roommate. “You can’t give me shit for the way I’m dressed, it was an accident. Shoving your hand down your pants and masturbating isn’t. Whatcha watching?”

“I... I wasn’t masturbating. I was... I was watching a biology lecture about um, mating habits of chimps and I just had an itch.”

Jennifer plopped down on the couch next to Gwen. “Oh cool, so you wouldn’t mind if I watch, too. Would you?” She opened Gwen’s laptop. On the screen was a big breasted blond with fake tits. She had her legs up and some muscular guy was pounding into her. The video had stopped when Gwen closed the top, so they were frozen mid-stroke.

“Wow, I’ve never seen chimps that hot.” Jennifer pushed the play button and the thrusting recommenced.

“It’s not like I’m fucking myself with a dildo,” Gwen protested. “Riding it like some wild beast.”

Jennifer’s cheeks flushed red. “You saw?”

“Yeah. I heard you scream and I went to check on you...”

Jennifer was mortified. Her roommate, her best friend, had watched her rut herself like a slut possessed. Jennifer fled to her room. She jumped onto her bed and hid her head under her pillow. She wanted to cry. She wanted to disappear. She wanted to fuck herself again.

She watched you.

Jennifer pulled her head out from her pillow. “Who’s there?” she asked. No one responded.

She’ll watch you again.

Jennifer wanted to grab the dildo and put on a repeat performance of last night. No, she needed to. The dress was made for easy access and Jennifer slipped her hand under and started massaging her tits.

Just as quickly as the night before, Jennifer was soon naked and playing with herself. The difference was, this time she knew she had an audience and was putting on a show. She quickly set up her dildo and trash can and mounted it, facing the door.

She could see Gwen looking in at her and Jennifer made eye contact as she bounced up and down. Jennifer could see Gwen playing with herself as she watched. Jennifer bored her eyes into Gwen’s.

“Oh god, this fake dick feels so good in my cunt. Mmm,” Jennifer licked her lips. Gwen was staring back at Jennifer. “Open the door, you can get a better view.”

Gwen pushed the door open. She wasn’t naked like Jennifer. She had her fly open and her hand stuck down her pants. Jennifer moaned her approval.

“Take your pants off.” Gwen hesitated, then slipped her pants off and sat on the floor, her love hole in full view. “Do you like watching me fuck myself?”

“Yeah,” Gwen sighed.

“Don’t you wish you had a big fat cock pounding in and out of you like this?”

Gwen’s hand sped up. “Yes.”

Jennifer could feel her climax building up. “Come with me, Gwen.”

“Oh god, Jennifer. This is so dirty. I can’t hold back any more!”

The two girls moaned together and cried out at the same time. Gwen was laying in a sweaty heap on the floor. Jennifer collapsed on her bed, the fake dick still buried inside of her.

Gwen’s face twisted in horror. “What are we doing?” she said. Picking up her clothes, she ran to her room.

What are we doing? What was she doing? She’d lived in the bimbos’ apartment for less than two days and she was already acting like them. She was dressing like them, and she was fucking like them. Jennifer had to get out of there.

Tears welling up in her eyes, Jennifer picked up her phone and dialed Mr Avery. “I’m sorry to disturb you so late, Mr Avery.”

“It’s no problem, Jennifer. What is it now?”

“It’s...”

“Are you crying? Is everything OK?”

“I hate this place! It’s doing something to me. You’ve got to let us move back downstairs.”

Mr Avery’s voice on the other end caught. “I’m sorry. I’ve already rented the place out.”

“What! How... how...”

“Well, you girls moved upstairs and the damage wasn’t anywhere near as bad as I thought it was.”

“Can’t we move back down?” Jennifer asked.

“They move in tomorrow.”

“Can’t you put them up here and Gwen and I move back down?”

He sighed. “Jennifer, you’re overreacting. Just stay put and you’ll get use to it. It’s just a room.”

“But...”

“It’s late. Don’t you have class tomorrow? Go to sleep and get yourself together.”

The line went dead. Jennifer threw her phone and cried herself to sleep.

After Mr Avery hung up, he looked at the phone in his hand. It was happening again. Sheryl had gone on about weird feelings about the place, too. Then she and her roommate had gone and changed themselves and stopped complaining about it. That’s when Jennifer had started her nagging calls about Sheryl and Cerise. He’d never been good with women. He just didn’t understand them.

PART 2

The next morning, her suitcase was gone. The only clothes she had to wear were the leftovers from the bimbos. The few bras that were in the drawer were all 32Gs, way too big for her. Jennifer threw on a white low cut tank top and a skirt with a thong on underneath. Her nipples were visible through the top. She slipped into some heels and walked over to Gwen’s room. The door was shut and locked. Jennifer knocked.

“Go away.”

“Come on, Gwen. We’ve got to talk about it.”

“I totally don’t want to talk about it. Can’t you like be a friend and like, just go away?”

“Open the door, Gwen.”

There was the sound of footsteps and then the click of the lock. Jennifer opened the door.

Her friend stood naked in the middle of the room. Her long blond hair flowing down her back. But she didn’t have long blond hair. She was a brunette. Not only that, looking down at Gwen’s crotch, she was bald. Last night, there’d been hair, this morning, she was completely shaved.

“Gwen, what did you do to yourself?”

“What-ever. Like you’re one to talk, Ms-Dressed-Like-A-Whore.”

Jennifer put her hand on her hips. “I’m only dressed like this because someone took my clothes.”

“Like what are you looking at me for? As if I’d want your dumpy old clothes.”

“Take that back! They weren’t dumpy.”

Gwen sneered at Jennifer. “Seriously, you’ve like gone from nun to ho over night.”

Jennifer never really felt T-shirts and jeans were nunnish, but she couldn’t argue with the ho comment... “What’s happening to us, Gwen?”

“Whaddya mean?”

“Well, you look like some sort of blond bimbo.”

“Oh, I found some pero...pero... dye in the bathroom and like thought it would look totally cool. My cunny hair didn’t match so I like shaved it off.”

“But why?”

“I dunno. Thought it’d be fun.” Gwen ran a hand through her hair then started playing with one of the tendrils. “Besides dressing like a total slut, like what’s happened to you?”

“To me? Do you think I normally fuck myself wild while you watch?”

Gwen twirled her hair. She scrunched her face like she was deep in thought. “You’ve done it like twice now, so yeah. I guess you, like, do.”

“No. I don’t!”

“Look at you. You’re like all skanky. Yeah, you do.”

“I’m not a skank!”

Gwen grinned. “If it dresses like a skank,” Gwen sniffed twice, “and smells like a skank and fucks like a skank. Then it’s a skank!”

“I’m not a skank!”

“Skank! Skank! Skank! Skank!” Gwen continued to yell at Jennifer as she ran out of the apartment.

Jennifer got in her car and slammed the door shut. “Stupid bimbo,” she muttered. Jennifer needed a place of quiet to straighten her mind. She started her car and headed to the campus library.

Pulling into a parking space, Jennifer grabbed her backpack out of the back. She ignored all the stares she got as she tottered into the library. Looking for further privacy, she went up into the book stacks and hid herself at a little study desk that was tucked away in all the rows of books. She pulled out a notebook and flipped it open. She stared at the notes that were in there. Notes? Gibberish. She couldn’t even make out what subject it was. Math? Chemistry?

Putting it out of her mind, she flipped to a blank page. That’s what she needed to do with her life. Turn it over to a new page. That’s what was wrong with her. All the stress was getting to her. Everything would go back to being normal if she just cleared her mind. She started to write her name. THUD

Jennifer jerked her head up. A geeky looking boy was bending over to pick up the book he’d dropped. He grinned sheepishly at her and put the book on the shelf. He took another book off the cart next to him and scanned the books. Finding the right place, he put it back.

The boy pushed the cart a little further down the isle and put yet another book back on the self. Jennifer could see him dart glances at her while he worked. A new page, huh? Jennifer smiled.

She leaned back in her chair and put her hands over her head. She stretched, pushing her meager chest out. While she didn’t have much in the tit department, the movement made her nipples stand out even more through the thin tank top. It had the desired effect as the boy dropped another book. Jennifer laughed and went back to her notebook.

She looked at what she had written. It was just the beginning of her name “Jenn”. That looks cool. Jennifer started drew hearts around it. New page, new name. I’m no longer Jennifer. I’m Jenn.

As she doodled flowers and hearts, Jenn’s pictures started to get more explicit. First, circles became tits and cocks, then she started drawing them together with the cocks spraying cum all over the tits. She expanded it even further and was soon drawing big titted girls being fucked in various positions.

I never knew I was such a good drawer. Jenn admired her artwork. The pictures were making her horny. Maybe I should go home and play with my friend.She picked up her house key and started rubbing it.

Erotic current coursed through Jenn’s body. She squeezed her legs together and doubled over the desk. She wasn’t going to be able to make it home. She needed something in her cunt and her fingers weren’t going to do it.

The boy. Jenn stood up and went looking for him. She found him a few stacks over. He glanced at her, then did a bad job of pretending to look at the book in his hands. Somewhere in her mind, she was having doubts about what she was about to do, but the heat coming from her pussy and the key in her pocket pushed them out.

Jenn walked up to the librarian. “Excuse me?”

The boy looked at her and gulped. “Yeah?” his voice creaked. “Yeah?” he said again in a normal tone.

“I’m umm, looking for something and I can’t find it?”

“What is it?”

“It’s supposed to be over there,” Jenn pointed to an even more secluded part of the book stacks. “I’ve looked and looked but it’s not there. I thought maybe I was looking in the wrong area so I came to ask you.”

“Well, do you have the call number?”

“No, I only know the title.”

“Oh, well, what is it? We can go look it up.”

“It’s umm, I forgot. I’ve got it in my notebook, though.”

The boy beamed. “Why don’t you go get it and I’ll go look the call number up for you.”

Jenn frowned. “I don’t think we need the call number, why don’t you just go over there and help me find it?”

“Well, if we know the call number, we can easily find it on the shelf or I can go look up if it’s been checked out.”

“But we’re already up here, we can just go look without the call number.”

The geeky boy smiled. “But if we knew the call number...”

“Fuck the call number. God! And you geeks wonder why you never get laid. Hello? I’m coming on to you.”

The boy just blinked at her. She sighed and undid his pants. She grabbed his member and paused. Was she really doing this? Was she really about to fuck some random guy in public? She felt warmth spread throughout her body. Was it from her room key or her pussy? She wasn’t sure. She only knew was that she was going to fuck this guy.

Put him in her mouth and suck him. Jenn’s lips were inches away from him. She stopped herself at the last second. She stood up and slid her hands up his body. She pulled her shirt over her head and bared her bra-less breasts to him. He leaned in and took one of her nipples in his mouth. Jenn cooed.

She let him maul her chest for awhile then pushed him away. “We don’t have much time, someone might come before we do,” she said.

Jenn worked her hand up her skirt and pulled her thong down. She dropped it on the floor next to her shirt. She turned around, grabbed the bookshelf, and spread her legs. She turned her head towards him and smiled.

The boy stepped up and split her wet lips with his cock, Jenn’s short skirt offered no resistance. He pounded into her from behind, Jenn’s small chest pressed against the books. His thrusts smashed her harder and harder into the shelf. The books inched forward bit by bit until the books on the opposite side clattered to the floor. Jenn let out small whimpers, trying to hold back from yelling and screaming her pleasure.

The boy gave one last violent thrust and came inside of her. Unable to contain herself, Jenn cried out. As secluded as they two were, there was no way that someone didn’t hear her. Jenn grabbed her shirt and threw it on. As she ran away, she could hear footsteps coming. She grabbed her notebook and headed down the stairs. Halfway down, she realized she’d forgotten her thong. She laughed. Let that loser try to explain to security what he was doing with pants around his ankles while holding a lime green thong.

So as to not draw suspicion to herself, Jenn casually walked out of the library, then ran to her car. She got in the driver seat and closed the door. She didn’t start the car. Jenn just sat there thinking about what she’d done.

She didn’t know the boy, she didn’t even get his name, but she’d fucked him. His cum was inside of her, well, most of it. Some of it was leaking back out, staining her seat. How could she ever face Gwen again? Gwen was right, she was a skank. The worse thing was, Jenn had enjoyed it and knew even now, she’d happily do it again. Starting the car, Jenn thought maybe it wasn’t time for a “new page”. Maybe she should redouble her efforts to be Jennifer again.

It was a long contemplative drive back to the apartment that left Jenn mentally drained. She had a feeling that if she really was still Jennifer that she wouldn’t have been as exhausted by it. All she knew was that she was tired and wanted to lay down.

All thoughts of sleep and rest vanished from Jenn’s mind when she walked through the door. The day before, where Gwen had been secretive about what she was doing, today there was no mistaking it.

Jenn’s roommate laid naked on the sofa with her legs spread apart and feet resting on the coffee table. Gwen was working Jenn’s dildo in and out of her cunt while she mauled one of her tits. Her computer sat on the coffee table.

She had aimed it at her self so that her masturbation session was being captured by the web-cam. Next to her image on the screen, an occasional message would pop up like “Yeah, work it, baby!” or “pound yourself harder you slut”.

Gwen looked over at Jenn. “Wanna join?” she asked.

Jenn said nothing and scurried past. She went into her room and locked the door. Leaning against it, Jenn surveyed her pink room. It was definitely this place. It was changing her and Gwen. Gwen hadn’t left since they’d moved in and she had progressed farther than Jenn had, but she knew it wasn’t too late. She could save them. She had to destroy everything.

Rushing forward, Jenn started with the dresser drawers. She ripped them out and flung the contents across the room. After emptying the last one, she lifted it over her head and threw it against the closet door. It banged against it, leaving a slight dent.

Bras, panties, tube tops, tank tops, and skirts littered the room. Jenn sank down in them and picked up a thong. She pulled on it with all of her might, but failed to tear it. She threw it; the light undergarment went fluttering a few inches forward and landed on the bed.

Jenn breathed raggedly for a moment then pulled her tank top off. She pulled on it, trying to rip it in half, but just managed to pull it out of shape. She threw it after the thong then stood up. She slipped out of her skirt and heels and threw them after the top. She plopped back down into the clothes on the floor.

She seethed. Inches away was a black bra with white lacy frills arching across the cups. She picked it up and looked at it. She grasped it by the cup and took hold of the lace as if to rip it off. She stopped. Strength returned to her arm and she was ready to pull. She stopped again.

She took her hand off the lace and then held it in both hands. It was huge. It had to have been special order, no stores carried things that large. If she were to put it on, there’d be a good half a foot between her meager chest and the cup. If she were to put it on...

Jenn’s hands slipped in through the straps and pushed the bra up to her torso. Reaching around they clipped the bra on. She was right, there was a good six inches... five inches... four inches?! This can’t be happening, my tits... they’re getting bigger!

Her breasts didn’t stop when they filled the bra, they kept going until they slightly overflowed it, as if she’d put on a bra a size too small. No! No! No! This can’t be happening! Jenn made her way over to the large vanity mirror, her chest jiggling with each step.

She looked at herself in the mirror. Her face looked the same, but her giant bust was now her most dominant feature. With monsters like these, there’s no way I can go back to being Jennifer. Maybe it was the bra. Maybe it was causing her to hallucinate.

Jenn closed her eyes and reached behind her. She unclasped the bra and then cupped the front of it in her hands. Her tits felt so real. Her tits felt so good. Jenn could feel a familiar wetness start to build between her legs.

Slowly, she extended her arms forward, taking the bra off her body. She let it fall to the floor and dropped her arms to her sides. Please! Jenn opened her eyes and came where she stood. Her new tits jutted of her chest. She was fucking hot.

If only she’d had this awesome rack when she’d fucked that boy in the library. There’s no way he would have lasted more than a minute. After she’d fucked him, whoever came running towards her screams would have gone down just as easily.

Jenn reached up and pulled on one of her nipples. It sent a pleasurable shudder down her spine. She looked at the mounds of flesh cradled in her hands. A frown. She wasn’t wearing any nail polish.

Sitting down in front of the mirror, Jenn searched through the cosmetics and nail polish on the counter until she found a deep crimson red color. She untwisted the cap and started painting. Jenn spent the next hour putting on makeup and styling her hair.

Searching through the discarded clothes on the floor, she found a gold corset with a black fleur de lis pattern. She slipped it over her head and laced it up. The black satin trimming went up around her shoulders and cut down across her chest, coming right over her nipples. The tightness squeezed her large tits together to create massive cleavage. The frilly bottom of the top stopped just above her belly button.

She completed it with a short black denim skirt that stopped just above her ass. She held the skirt on with a black belt that had a double row of silver bulleted holes that ran the length of it. Finally, she put on a pair of knee-high boots that had a modest 4 inch heel.

Checking out her made up look in the mirror, Jennifer’s mouth dropped open. She was dressed like a slut. She needed to get out of these clothes. It was too late. She could feel her panty-less pussy getting wet. Jennifer was lost forever. Jenn snapped her mouth shut. God, she was a slut. She needed to get out of these clothes and on to a cock.

Gwen knocked on Jenn’s door. “You, like, okay in there?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You sure, cause like you sure were loud and I haven’t heard from you in forever, so I was kinda worried.”

Jenn walked over to the door and opened it up. When she pulled it open, she stepped back behind it so it hid her from Gwen.

Gwen stepped into Jenn’s room. “Oh my god! What the fuck happened in here?” Jenn came out from behind the door. “Oh my god! What the fuck happened to your tits!”

“Aren’t they just perfect?”

“I’m so fucking jealous, Jennifer.”

“Call me ‘Jenn’. Jennifer is so icky.”

Gwen smiled. “’Jenn’s so totally so much better a name for a skank like you.”

Jenn giggled at Gwen’s joke. “Ain’t it though?”

“But seriously, like how did you get such awesome tits like that? Didn’t I used to be bigger?”

Jenn shrugged her shoulders, which caused a nipple to pop out. She fixed her tit. “I put on one of the bras in my room and they just grew.”

“No fucking way!” Gwen reached down and picked up one of Jenn’s bras. She put it on and waited. Nothing happened. “That’s like not funny. Just cause I’m kinda dumb doesn’t mean you can be all mean and shit to me.”

“I’m not lying.”

“Then how come my tits are still tiny?”

“I don’t know, maybe cause it’s my bra?”

Gwen tore the bra off her chest and ran to her room. Jenn followed. She got to Gwen’s room in time to see Gwen finish clipping on a shelf bra. As if someone had attached an air pump to Gwen’s nipples, her breasts started ballooning out. When they stopped, their fakeness made the bra more decorative than functional.

Gwen squealed and clapped her hands. “This is so cool! I’ve got like big fake titties!” She took her bra off. Where Jenn’s new chest was all natural, Gwen’s was now adorned with two giant silicon orbs.

“Damn, you look so hot, Gwen.”

“Thanks, Jenn!”

Jenn’s eyes lit up. “Oh! Gwen, we should totally go out and celebrate our new tits. I’m sure they’ll get lots of guys to fuck us.”

“God, Jenn, you’re so smart! Let’s totally go!”

A giddy feeling flowed through Jenn as she went back into the living room to wait. She saw that Gwen still had the video site up. Jenn had an evil grin. She picked up the computer and started to type. “Going clubbing with skanky roommate. First person to tell us ‘Old College Ave’ gets a blowjob in the bathroom!” The chat went crazy with guys begging to know what club they were going to be at. Jenn just responded “in the downtown area” and left it at that.

Gwen came back out of her room. She was wearing a backless silver top that tied around her neck and waist. The front came swooping down to reveal ample tits flesh and their inorganic makeup. She completed the outfit with large pink hoop earrings, sky blue mini-skirt, and 5 inch bright orange stilettos.

“Damn, you look good, Gwen.” Jenn told her.

“Thanks!”

“Oh! I just remembered, Mr Avery told me that some new girls moved in downstairs. Wanna go see if they want to come?”

“Totally! The more the merrier!”

The two girls clacked down the stairs in their heels and banged on the door. It took a few seconds before it opened, revealing a young pale redhead. Beyond her, an African-American girl was just visible, sitting on the couch.

“Hi! You’re a redhead like Jenn!” Gwen beamed.

The redhead’s mouth tightened. “Hello. That’s very observant of you.”

Jenn edged her way in front of Gwen. “We’re the girls upstairs and we thought we’d pop by and introduce ourselves. I’m Jenn.”

“And I’m Gwen!”

“Nice to meet you,” their new neighbor monotoned.

Jenn didn’t flinch that the girl didn’t offer her name. “Me and Gwen are just about to head out to a club and were wondering if you guys wanted to go.”

“It’s Wednesday.”

Gwen got a puzzled look on her face. “So?” She asked from behind Jenn.

The girl rolled her eyes.“It’s late, tomorrow there’s school, you know?”

Gwen burst out in to laughter. “School?! People still go to that place?”

Jenn smiled at the girl. “Well, maybe some other time then.”

Amanda closed the door on her two slutty neighbors. She heard the nicer-seeming redhead, ‘Jenn’, say “What a dork.”

Amanda scoffed. “What a skank.” She turned back into the living room. Her roommate and best friend, Candice, was still sitting on the couch, pouring over her Bio lab notes.

Once again, Amanda couldn’t believed their luck. This complex always had a huge wait list and openings usually didn’t pop up until the end of the school year. In a flurry of two days, they’d packed and moved all their stuff out of their cruddy dorm and into this dream apartment. The landlord, Mr Avery, was even sweet enough to help them move.

“Why didn’t you come to meet our neighbors?” Amanda smirked.

“Girl, I saw all I needed to see from right here.”

Amanda joined Candice on the couch. “I guess this is why Mr Avery told us to call him if we had any noise complaints.”

“Eww, I don’t want to think about what sort of noise we’d hear from them.”

“Ha! Yeah. Well hopefully they’ll default on rent and we can get some decent neighbors in upstairs, huh?”

“Mmmhmm. Now, let’s hurry up and finish this lab write-up.” Candice corralled an escaped hair back into her bun. “I’ve got a 8:15 philosophy test tomorrow...”

* * *

It was around 3AM when the call came. Mr Avery whipped his bleary eyes and answered the phone. “What is it, Jennifer?” he asked the only person who:d call him at such an hour.

“It’s Amanda from 101.”

“Oh, Amanda, sorry. What’s the trouble?”

“It’s those bimbos upstairs. They’ve been going on for over an hour and Candice and I have tests tomorrow.”

“What bimbos upstairs?”

“You know, ‘Jenn’ and ‘Gwen’.”

Mr Avery sat up in his bed. “I’m sure you’re mistaken. It’s not coming from there.”

“No, we could hear them coming home with who knows how many boys and the sounds of sex are deafening.”

Getting out of bed and throwing a pair of paints on, Mr Avery sighed. “I’ll take care of it.” He hung up and grabbed his keys. What was going on? It was almost the same thing again.

Fifteen minutes later, Mr Avery was banging on the door of 201. There was a sign on it that said, “Old College Ave”. It took a while, but eventually a characture of the girl Mr Avery formerly knew as Jennifer opened the door, her massive tits bare to the world. She was wearing a harness for a fake cock.

“Jennifer?”

“Mr Avery!” the girl squealed. She grabbed his hand and pulled him inside. There was a naked man asleep on the couch, Gwen was on the floor rubbing her pussy. It took a second for Mr Avery to recognize the blond.

“Jenn! Hurry up! I need your plastic cock!”

“Gwen, Mr Avery is here.”

“Jennifer, Gwen, what’s going on?”

“Call me Jenn, Mr Avery.”

Gwen got up off the floor and walked over to Mr Avery. She smashed her silicon tits into him. “Did you see the door?”

“Old College Ave?” he asked.

“Blow job!” The girls screamed in unison. They attacked his pants and pulled his raging member out. The girls took turns sucking and licking him, each as skilled as the other. It wasn’t long before he blasted a load on Gwen’s face. Jenn leaned over and licked her roommate clean while Gwen worked on bringing Mr Avery back to full force.

The sun was coming up and Mr Avery was buried waist deep in Jenn’s ass. Gwen was passed out next to them on the bed. All of the guys they’d brought home from the club had snuck out at various times and only the super and sluts were left.

Enjoying yourself?

Mr Avery looked around. No one was there.

When every you get bored with them, kick them out and send Mandi and Candi up to me.

“Who are you?” Mr Avery asked.

“I’m your fucking slut!” Jenn cried out.

And I’m the best apartment you’ll ever rent out.