Rude, but Damn! (C)

I came back into the living room to find my visitor sitting comfortably on my couch, doing something on her phone. Even from across the room, I could see enough of how hot this girl was that my irritation at being woken up was rapidly waning.

Her sunglasses were pushed up on top of her head, holding back straight, black, shoulder-length hair, revealing a very pretty face and pale blue eyes. Her makeup was a little dramatic, but not whorishly so, and the ear I could see sported a small hoop and two studs. Her black-and-white patterned crop top completely covered decent sized breasts while leaving a flat, toned belly exposed. A matching skater skirt left quite a bit of very nice leg exposed, and the ensemble was completed by a pair of black ankle boots with a tapered, 3" block heel.

She didn't look like the gamer girl about whom I'd fantasized. More like a party girl with style. I wondered whether the reason she was so early was that she hadn't yet been to bed after whatever she'd been doing all night. All my pervy fantasies from the previous afternoon rushed to the front of my mind. If I could get this girl to move in! Just the opportunities for shower-time peeping were almost too good to be true, and who knew what else.

Yeah, yeah, I know. Thinking with the wrong head. I like to think that if our meeting had been a bit more on my terms--and maybe not at what might as well have been the crack of dawn--that I would have had more blood flowing to my big head than my little one. Like I said, I'm really not a creeper. This was just way too much temptation to throw down in front of me.

In an uncharacteristically take-charge move, I crossed the intervening space and offered my hand. When she took it, shook it, and introduced herself as Elspeth ("El" to her friends), I gave her my best smile and sat down on the other end of the futon couch to talk.

"So, El, are you new to the area?"

The look that greeted this opening gambit was far from friendly. Hey, she was the one who dragged me out of bed. Maybe I wasn't a great conversationalist, but I was trying. Don't blow this, Dean! I thought to myself.

She didn't even answer my question, just sighed. She stood up from the couch and asked if she could look the place over.

"Sure, sure!" I answered. "By all means, help yourself."

I watched her gorgeous backside as my visitor moved across the room and down the short hallway to what I hoped would be her room. That ass! And thinking of it as her bedroom got me thinking about her in that bedroom, and maybe being in there with her.

I played it cool as she came back into the main area (or as cool as I was going to get) and then turned to go into the bathroom. Again, I imagined peeping on that tight little body in the shower. Which made me wonder whether there was any place I could put a hidden camera.

The rest of the space was all one, with the living room, a small kitchen, and an eating area near French doors that opened onto a little balcony. I watched El's every move as she made the circuit, then returned to where I sat. Resuming her seat on the futon couch, she said, "Cool. I'll take it."

Wait. What? That was my decision to make, not hers. I started to say as much, but then remembered that this is what I wanted.

El startled me out of my reverie by saying, "However. You need to know that you will never, ever, be getting with me."

I sputtered, "What?! But. Why would I--" She cut me off with an upheld hand.

"Save it, nerd boy. Or should I say, 'perv boy'? I mean, I'm not an idiot. A certain amount of ogling is to be expected. I'm hot. You're a virgin. But wanting to put a camera in the bathroom? That's a bit much, don't you think?"

I didn't blush. This was a bit too scary for embarrassment. Instead, the blood rushed away from my face and I suddenly felt very cold. And confused.

"Ho--"

She didn't even let me finish one word. "Because I'm a witch, perv boy, and I can read your mind."

Okay, no. That was too much. Years of gaming and fantasy novels notwithstanding, I wasn't prepared to deal with such nonsense. "Now you're just--"

"Talking nonsense?" she interrupted. She gestured in my direction and my sweat pants basically disintegrated, shreds flying in every direction as if I'd lost a fight with a very aggressive lawn trimmer. My boxers were left intact, thank the gods, but were insufficient to hide my rapidly deflating boner.