Letting things wind down

“You ---” Derek swallows the last of the spilled cum, and fixes you with a glare (that is ruined by her licking her lips as if she had just ate something delicious) “ you utter ” she fights for words for a moment “ jerk! Jerk! Jerk! Jerk.” Each insult is punctuated by an ineffectual punch against your chest “Why can’t I call you an idiot. I mean an IDIOT.” She exclaims with a pout.

“Because that wouldn’t be cute or flirty.” Steven offers while you are still thinking of a good reply.

“Wha-” Derek looks at her in confusion, still lightly pummeling your chest.

“Look at the way Mark is standing, hips cocked and arms folded to push up her boobs. I bet you couldn’t sit like you were proud of your balls either. “

Derek huffs “ That’s ridiculous.” But there is worry in her eyes.

You watch with interest as Derek retreats to the other end of the couch and swings a leg down to plant it on the ground, realizes she just casually placed a hand on her skirt as she did it to avoid giving you a pantyshot , then draw her leg back on the couch as soon as she lifts the hand protecting her modesty. Derek shuffles around a few more times trying to find a way of sitting that looks manly but fails each time, growing more agitated each time.

Mark is shifting around too as she watches, trying to find something to do with her arms that doesn’t look vaguely suggestive. Putting them behind her back pushes out her chest and putting them in front leads to clasping her hands demurely before her skirt. Holding them at her side has Mark place one hand on her cocked hip and as she raises them one hand starts to idly play with a strand of red hair. And then she is back to folding them under her chest, pushing up her boobs. At which point she sort of collapses and starts crying.

Derek takes a look at her sobbing friend, before hastily turning away and acquiring an intense interest in a patch of floor a few inches past the tip of her shoes. Then she starts to heave.

The next twenty minutes are decidedly not the pleasant afterparty you had been envisioning while you were getting head. The sound of Derek vomiting coming through the open bathroom-door and Marks sobs banished whatever horniness was left after cumming two times in under sixty minutes. Steven excused herself to her room and came back after a long while wearing blue pajamas with enough popped buttons to show of her belly and a nice amount of cleavage.

Now she is just sitting an arms length away, watching you with a polite smile and shooting an occasional glance full of pity to Mark who is lying curled up on the floor sobbing quietly. It is kind of unnerving really, having her just sit there.

“You are awfully calm.” You finally say.

“I am really not.” She admits “It is probably shock. ”

That figures. It turns out that there is nothing like a pretty girl curled up into a quivering sobbing ball on the carpet in front of you to re-examine your actions. Intellectually you know you hated her guts when she was Mark, but your gut feels that you never met this girl and now she is crying because of you. And even so….

Now that most of your initial anger and lust have evaporated, you are getting serious doubts if you like what you just did. But on the other hand: one reason you stopped second-guessing yourself too much since getting your power was that morality got a bit more complicated when reality-warping was involved. Case in point:

You get of the couch and walk across the room to call down the hallway “Hey Derek, would you rather stave off your freakout, sit on back on the couch and honestly answer any question I ask you until I leave the house or would you rather shove a cucumber up your ass? ”

Predictably Derek decides to sit down and answer your questions. And so do Mark and Steven when you give them the same choice. Once that is done it is time to bend ethics into a pretzel.

“I admit I may have gone a bit too far.” You begin once the three are assembled on the couch “ And the way I see it there are two ways to handle this: Would you rather things were as if we never got beyond first base and remember it that way or would you rather the memory of this make-out session took weeks to fade. ”

If you may have gone too far but neither reality nor anyone but you remember it: Did you really do anything bad?