Go with Kylie

Getting baked and screwing around with Kylie of all people wasn’t what you had in mind for tonight, but you need someone to finish what Elsa started. Why shouldn’t it be one of the hottest pledges?

But you are not running through the rain naked, even if you have to look like a pussy.

You follow her out, and she gleefully runs off into the trees. There is nothing fun about being soaked by this cold rain, but it’s not far to the treehouse. Kylie’s already climbing up, and the sight of her nude body like this is wasted on you because you’re shivering so much. You climb up after her.

Nobody knows who put the treehouse here. It’s about ten by ten, with a good roof that doesn’t leak much. It’s solid, but that’s all it has going for it. The rough wood is not great under bare feet, but generations of CCL girls have stashed things here, mainly weed. It’s a tradition to blaze it out here, away from the house.

As you reach the top and climb in, Kylie has already wrapped herself in a blanket. You grab one too and do the same, going to the chest in the corner where the goods are kept. You move the emergency stash of chocolate to uncover… a folded piece of paper.

You open it, finding terrible handwriting and even more terrible drawings.

It says: Sorry! I smoked all your shit!

And includes a bad drawing of what appears to be Olivia and Beth, winking and puffing.

You shake your head in disgust. These idiots. Apparently, they haven’t smoked it, only stolen it. If they’d smoked it, they’d know that it was a decoy bag full of mainly herbs from the kitchen with just enough real stuff to hide the smell.

You move the venerable Sex and the City box set to reveal your secret stash, papers, and lighter.

“I knew you were cool,” Kylie says, crowding in beside you to help as you roll a fat one.

“You just like me because I have the stuff.”

“I like you because you stood up for Sally to Lotte,” Kylie protests. “It was sweet.”

You pause. “You saw that?”

“Course. I was gonna jump in and help if it went bad, but I can’t believe Lotte backed down,” Kylie says, making a face. “Bet she’s written your name down somewhere to haunt you.”

“Fuck her,” you grumble.

“Probably the one Sheila in this place that I wouldn’t,” Kylie says.

You look over at her, then bump fists in solidarity. “Same,” you say and light it up. In a minute you two are lying down together, snug in your blankets, passing it back and forth. You cough.

“So Rey’s in, I think. And Delilah,” you say.

“But they’re missing,” Kylie reminds you.

“Right, right. But it’s our turn soon.”

“Imagine so,” Kylie replies, nodding.

You listen to the rain on the treehouse. There’s a little leak in the corner, but it’s the corner farthest from you, so it’s fine. You wish you had some music. You want to listen to some Grimes while you smoke. Or maybe Moderat.

You’ve never seen Kylie get baked before. It affects everyone differently. Some girls get hungry, some get chill, and some get horny.

You are one of the hungry ones, and you don’t think twice about digging into Duni’s emergency chocolate. It’s milk chocolate, which is not your favorite, you like dark, but it’s fine. You munch on it as Kylie worms her way into your blanket and snuggles up to you, thinking that she’s sneaky. She’s obviously the type that gets frisky at times like this.

Frisky and bold. She kisses you as you’re still trying to eat chocolate. That makes for a delicious, but messy, not very ladylike kiss. The pace is slow and lazy, but fierce. She’s not shy about putting her tongue down your throat, but you don’t mind. Her silky hair feels oddly amazing between your fingers. You keep running your hands through as she moans into your mouth.

She stops for a minute and looks down at you, looking wasted, but also adoring.

“You have chocolate,” she says, and probably meant to go on and say ‘on your face’, but she leans down and licks your cheek. You shriek with laughter and squirm underneath her as she licks her way down to your chest. Normally you’re self-conscious about being flat and scrawny, but not when you smoked such a big one. You knock over the lantern as she flicks her tongue over your nip, and it goes out.

It's suddenly totally dark, but you don’t stop. Kylie’s rough with your nipples, but you don’t mind. Then she’s kissing you again, lying down on top of you. Your hands leave her hair and caress her smooth back. Your damp panties and undershirt come off quickly.

Without warning, she moves again, and the next few seconds are confusing and awkward until you realize what she’s doing. You tug on the blanket so that you’re both covered and warm before planting your hands on her firm rear and guiding her pussy to your mouth.

Funny, the only other time you ever did a sixty-nine, you were high as well.

You groan as she clumsily plants her mouth on your clit. Her juices run over your face as you do your part, digging your fingers into her buttocks as she laps at you like an ice cream cone.

When it’s over you’re both lying there giggling, unable to move. Her pussy still rests heavily on your face, and you feel her nose up against your vulva, which still quivers from the orgasm. You feel dizzy, and it’s dark, but your eyes have adjusted. The treehouse is spinning.

“Uhhh…” you groan.

“Yeah,” Kylie purrs, giving you a random lick between your legs.

“Fucking idiot,” you moan.

“Yeah,” she says, doing it again.

If you were in a bed, you would both fall asleep like this, even in this ridiculous position. But not on the floor of the treehouse, with just a blanket and a few cushions underneath you.

You both finally sit up, and after a long, tender kiss, you feel around for the lantern, listening to the rain.

“Ow!” you say as Kylie slaps your bottom, then giggles. She flops over on her back, spreading her legs. Very ladylike.

“I got your booty,” she says, then chuckles.

She got it all right, and she’s wearing a ring. Ouch. You stand up and go to the window, opening the blinds to get just a little more light so you can find that lantern. You squint out through the rain and see something that you don’t expect: someone moving.

“Kylie,” you say, through the haze of the weed.

She gets up and joins you, wrapping her arms around your body and pinching your nips. She kisses your neck.

“Look,” you say, and she does.

“Who’s that?” she asks.

Someone is hurrying through the forest. There’s no way to know who it is in the dark.

You aren’t thinking super clearly. That person is not coming to the treehouse. There’s nothing else out here. Where is she going?

Should you…

Investigate?

Or ignore it?