Blake Is So Cruel

Cruelly he breaks me out of that moment by tossing my clothes at my naked body. They hit me like a whip, making me start and sit up quickly, clinging them to me and covering myself as best I can, to give myself a little dignity.

"No sense playing demure now," he smiles like a savage, gleeful in his victory, "Not when I know the real you, Emily."

I am wordless but I am defiant in the way that I glare at him, determined to show that he hasn't utterly broken me. It doesn't work. Blake just laughs at me and shakes his head, stepping back and crossing his arms over his chest with a shrug.

"As you like," he says with indifference, "I'm going to head out to meet the group. You've got about a minute before Kim there starts the tour up again and people notice you're not there. If memory serves you're in trouble enough as it is, don't want to get in more."

He starts to walk away and the words just kind of escape me. I don't mean to say it. Truthfully I don't even know why I do.

"You're not going to wait for me."

Not even pausing he turns and walks backwards while he addresses me.

"Thing is, if I am seen with you people might start thinking things. They might start believing that I'm the sort of guy who would stoop to fucking the campus slut, and I've got a reputation to uphold."

When my mouth drops open in shock, he laughs again and throws his hands up in the air, "Don't worry babe, you were good. You fuck like a champ. I had fun. But I gotta think about number one here, while you've clearly got your mind on getting on your back for any guy with a pretty smile."

Turning around again he leaves me there alone. Abandoned and facing the reality of what it is that I've just done.

It's too late for me to deny any of that and far too late for me to prove him wrong. Instead I just curl up again but only for an instant because I'm on a tight deadline here and have no time to recover.

It's bad. I need that time. To understand what I've done and what it means for me, whether it changes anything and how it does. Everything seems to be happening so fast and taking forever to get there at the same time and god, why does it feel so often like I'm just reacting to things? Acting without thinking?

Why is my willpower at the lowest point it's maybe every been?

I shove my clothes on without ceremony, noting with some amount of confusion the way the remains of him slosh about within me. I don't have any ability or understanding of how to deal with the seed he shot so deep within me so I just have to hope that it doesn't leak out or anything.

Of course that will be only maybe the most obvious indicator of what I've done here. The rest of me isn't exactly screaming celebate.

If spending lunch break at a gloryhole wasn't enough to make me look and reek of sex, this certainly did it. My hair is a disaster and my skin is flush and I swear everyone is either going to think that I ran a marathon or took on a dozen guys at once.

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