Cantina

Physics ended about a third into the school’s two hour lunch break. Students who did not wish to eat in town, or lived too far to return home could pay a monthly fee to be fed on the spot. Those who lived further still went to eat and sleep in a dormitory just down the road. Fortunately that year I was among the former group.

Carmencita did not speak to me again all morning, and when class ended she promptly quit school to walk to her parents’ flat in the old town. To be fair, no one spoke much at all in class but the teacher. He had started anew from the very beginning of what we were supposed to cover this session, and sped through most of it. The only individuals who won’t have scribbled within an inch of tendonitis will have been those who didn’t bother attending in the first place.

Lunch time brought the temptation to seek out my small circle of friends to observe how they would behave in the new paradigm, but I opted against it, wanting more space to think and plot. Theoretically my backing off would not be out of character, since I did so frequently anyway. I took my time leaving class, aiming to arrive late in the cantina.

I went red in the face while stowing away my things, because of prolonged exposure to the girl whose locker was adjacent to mine. She had immense breasts, big enough and pendulous enough that they maintained their own cleavage without a bra. I suppose the way her clothing was cut open helped. She smiled brightly at me and bounced on her way, leaving me a bit lost in the head. I pulled myself together and made a point of trying to be as unapproachable as possible. I buttoned up my coat and raised the collar to cover my neck, discarding my colourful scarf. The final touch was a black woolen beanie which hid even more of my face. From that point I was thoroughly left alone.

The crowd was relatively sparse at the cantina. Most people had their lessons end at the same time the lunch break started, and so ate well in advance of my group. I sat near a window at the highest end of the room. There was a strange deformity in the floor whereby one side was higher than the other. It meant whoever sat in that location could observe who else was present without having to look over certain obstacles. At this time of day there were many empty seats in this region. Earlier it would have been swamped with whichever clan had gotten in the cantina at the front of the queue. Like the rear most seats of a school bus.

The meal was educational on the anatomy of my female classmates in the most pleasantly yet perplexing way imaginable. Everywhere I looked there would be a girl with her tits out and a hole in her crotch. No matter the clothing, trousers, dress, tunic, coat, robe, every article worn by females had the same modifications to expose their assets. Exposing also whether a given individual was bushy or smooth, and whether her colours below matched what grew on her head. The meal also highlighted a physiological alteration in me. Characteristically rubbish food should have kept at bay all but the smallest physical manifestation of sexual interest in me as the ultimate an-aphrodisiac, even with so much agreeable material on display. And yet I could not get limp again. Even trying to swallow puke-worthy pap, and having ejaculated mere hours ago, my cock was perpetually either on the way up or hard as a rock. Immediately after doing a number on Carmen it had been fine and during class I hadn’t spared a thought for it, because the only human I could see and cared to pay attention to was a normally clothed male speaking maths gibberish. Now, with the ratio of women to men in this place, it was all I could do not to think about sex. And why wouldn’t I after all? It looked as though I could get it if I just asked. Minute by minute it became more difficult to resist that last line of reasoning.

The Twins walked in, Sally and Shelly - or Sallyshells - or Shellysals. On days that they dressed the same we would call them Sally and Sally, or Shelly and Shelly, depending on which one was recognized first. Their parents had been pining for a boy, because they couldn’t agree on a name for a girl. One was adamant it would be Sally, the other, Shelly. In the end they both lost and both won.

I had to stare when they turned up. The sight of two almost identical girls with their almost identical private parts exposed is already not something you see often, even when all the women around are in the same state of undress. But it wasn’t quite that I fixated on. They were both flushed in the face, chest and between their legs. Their clean shaven pussies were very red, and very wet. They were positively glistening. Had I been close enough to discern further details, I wouldn’t have been surprised to see drops of moisture actually seeping from their slits, and coating the labia. The twins had both had sex within the last hour.

I got through lunch. Class would resume within the next fifteen to twenty minutes. Again I avoided running into anybody I knew, going straight to my locker, getting my things, and immediately through a corridor, up a staircase and around the corner, to sit and wait in front of the classroom door. I heard footsteps behind me, and instinctively accelerated. When I arrived at my destination I made sure I would have my back turned to my stalker when they arrived. I also turned up my collar again. It was pretty cold in this part of the school building, so it should work as a signal to leave me be as well as a measure against freezing. At last I could sift through rational thoughts and unsafe impulses...

A hand grabbed my shoulder, "Are you disguising yourself, Frank?" and pulled on me. I allowed it to guide me around to face my interlocutor. "We're not done yet," She said.

Carmencita had given herself a bit of a makeover. She wore her lips darker. Her hair was all tightly braided onto her head such that none hung loose but for two tiny fish tails behind each ear. She still wore a black woolen overcoat with strategically revealing alterations, but it was a much more dramatic one than usual. It went all the way down to her ankles, which was quite a distance with her height, and the stylistic elements inherited from its military ancestors were played up significantly, with enormous lapels, epaulets, brass buttons, and cuffed sleeves. The contrast hardened her features a lot, even her breasts.

“Come with me.” she said, taking my hand. She led me down the corridor, and before I knew it she unlocked a forgotten little door at the end of the passage and dragged me inside a tiny conference room, locking the door behind her. I started to panic. On whose authority could she open random doors in the school? Did she know I had been pretending? That I was still acclimatized to sex being a strictly private matter?

“What do you want of me?” I asked. She didn’t answer straight away, merely stared at me. Her makeup made it very difficult to read her, hiding her more subtle expressions. She was silent long enough that I imagined a cold rage in the slant of her eyebrows and lips, but then she smiled. “Just you, now, where no one can see or hear us...” she said.

“Why?” I said, “It didn’t bother you earlier.”

She ignored me and went on “In particular where I won’t get on the bad side of an insane tyrannical bitch. I'm not convinced your antics from this morning will fly under Rashid. I won’t have you get us both kicked out of class, nor goad her into torturing us like Jameson this morning. My hand still aches from trying to keep up with him at full speed.”

Again, I probed, because I couldn’t see her logic. “Why would I do that unsolicited? Or do you imagine I would only ever pleasure you again by putting you in the spotlight? You asked for it, remember?”

"Yes, actually," she said, "I do imagine. And I worry that I would humour you." She shrugged, "I'm still horny either way, you made me come with your fingers, now all I can think of is how you would feel in me. I want it, and I want it without some mad, stiff-bummed bat throwing a fit for nothing like she always does!"

I smiled to myself. My act was effective, although perhaps too effective.

Carmen went on ranting, “I would’ve come back earlier and fucked you ages ago, fucked you in the bloody cantina if necessary, nobody’s stuck up their arses down there - but Adelaïde called me. She was crying herself to bits. That she-swine Rashid kicked her out at the end of class, with ten minutes to go, for quietly fingering herself. They were watching a bloody video, where they didn’t even need to take notes. Rashid said so. Yet she beat on little Ade for just getting herself off. I’m not having that. You know what the fuck I’d do if she tried that shit on me?”

“Um, fight back?” I offered. She scoffed. “I’d bloody strangle her to ****. Throw her out the window. Get expelled. Get jailed. You know what I’m like...”

I really didn’t though. I was used to her being blunt, and to the point. That she bubbled under the surface like a cauldron was always a defining trait of hers, however openly raging like this came out of nowhere. Either she was opening up to me for some reason, more than the obvious had been corrupted in her mind by the new social order. It was frightful to watch. She was blushing straight through her pale foundation, and I began to worry that she might relieve her anxiety on me by some other means that the stated purpose of our seclusion. At once did I not want to have to hurt her, and feared she had the strength to compel me use substantial **** to defend myself. I had to placate her now.