Trish

I enter my room and shut the door, making sure to lock it, Rouge got caught masturbating a couple of months back, made me anxious enough that I'm not taking any chances.

I pull my school polo over my head and throw it to the side, then unzip the back of my skirt, allowing it to fall to the floor. I nearly leap onto the bed, I'm far too pent up, I don't have time to worry about being tidy, I might just explode. I unhook my bra and throw it to the ground, immediately massaging my tits, my nipples are rock hard at this point. It's not enough, not nearly, my right hand traces from my tits to my stomach, all the way to my knickers. I slide my hand under the hem and slowly tease around my screaming pussy. I close my eyes and let my imagination take over, I can't direct it, it goes where it knows best, to every curve and crevice of Trish Patel's body.

Damn it. Even after today I can't help but want her, I yearn for her approval, for her desire, for her touch. Why hadn't she said something today?

Damn it again. Can't a girl mind-fuck one of the girls who ruins her life without the drama? Honestly, I'd let her, for one peek at her boobs, I'd let her ruin my whole world. One kiss on her neck. One taste of her pussy. I'd let her. To feel that nirvana, for the endless waves of pleasure I know she'd send through my body, it'd be so worth it. Now we're talking, the feeling's beginning to build as I slowly touch my clit.

She's so much larger than life, I know if she knew I was thinking like this she'd be disgusted, she'd punish me. I'm by no means a masochist, but the thought of her bending me over her knee, and slowly delivering smack, after smack, after smack, to my bare ass soaks me through. my mind goes to swimming at school, how she looked in that skin-tight one-piece. Her tits were nearly twice the size of mine, and her ass was so gorgeous I kept doing underwater lengths just for the chance to see more.

It's building quick, I'm not going to be able to hold on forever. I take a couple of seconds to peel off my soaked knickers and throw them off the bed, I don't need to be naked to get off, but I like to, makes me feel dirty, like someone could walk in at any moment and take me right there. I know Trish would have me every way possible. and I know I'd let her.

My mind keeps fixating on her ass, I can't tear it away, I think about if Trish would like that, but I know she would, she's so worldly, so cool, so courageous. I imagine my hands grabbing it as she kisses me, my short nails digging into that divine flesh. I think about her doing the same to me. Big mistake. Soon the image of spanking returns, which soon transitions to me bent over a bed, looking back at a smiling Trish preparing a strap-on, lining it up with my asshole.

I've never tried anything anal related, the thought of even penetrating my pussy makes me nervous enough that I don't even do that. But something's calling to me. Maybe I've reached peak horniness. I can't resist the urge. My body is calling for relief as I continue to rub my clit. I coat a finger in my abundant juices, turn on my side, still rubbing my pussy like a madwoman.

My mind's image of Trish smiles at me, and as my mind's strap on pushes into my ass, so does my finger. The result is immediate, and explosive. It's like being hit by a train of pleasure, over, and over, and over. The sensation from my twin holes radiates throughout my body, my leg spasms and I can't hold back the moans. "Trish... My ass... Oh God... Yes..." As it fades it fades, I remove my finger from my orifice, and instantly feel regret. I **** myself to look at my hand, to my surprise there's nothing to see, still, gotta make sure I wash that thoroughly.

Not worth it. This feeling of disgust. Don't think I'll try that again. Probably.

I sit up, noticing the large damp patch on my sheets, I'm not a squirter or anything, not sure if that's even a thing outside of porn, but it's no surprise I'd be lubed up with how turned on I was. I gather up my uniform and put it in the basket, followed by my underwear, I grab a new pair and slip on some leisurewear.

At that point I get some news to distract me from my adventures in fucking myself. My laptop chimes with anew notification: "Elise Monroe has sent you a friend request!" I hastily accept, and I can't resist having a look at her profile, it's a new experience having actual friends, kinda want to see what I can learn.

Turns out Elise is actually 19, weird that we're in the same year, I'm sure there's a story to that. Born in Paris, knew that much, two parents, must be nice. Oh. Oh.

"In a relationship with Pierre Macron."

She's straight.

She has a boyfriend.

And she's straight.

Why am I feeling rejected? She never expressed any romantic interest, why should I care? I'm never coming out anyway, I'm never gonna have a girlfriend, I'm never gonna have sex. I've made my peace with my eternal isolation. And then she went and became my friend. Damn it.

I slowly get up, and unlock my door, I spray some air freshener while I'm at it, can't hurt. I stop by the bathroom to wash my hands, eventually finding my way to the freezer to grab a single tub of ice cream and a spoon, retreating to my room before anyone can spot me. I can hear Mum in the living room, Rouge is either out or in her room, either way, I make it back to my lair unchallenged.

I eat my weight in dairy and watch a crappy rom-com, I know, I know, cliche, but if you have a better ritual for getting over a shitty day then good for you, this is all I've got. There's always tomorrow I suppose.