Studying while covered in cum

<!--StartFragment-->The walk to Ayesha’s house was quiet at first.

Paru, still blinking the sting of thick loads of cum from her lashes, walked slowly beside Erin. She hadn’t bothered to wipe the rest off completely — it was in her hair again, streaked over her temples, caked against her cheekbone like some bizarre war paint. Her eyes were clear now, at least, but the rest… the rest was exhausting.

“I swear,” she muttered as they turned the corner to Ayesha’s street, “I must be on some invisible list.”

Erin, who hadn’t received any cum giggled “A Paru-only subscription service. ‘Exclusive content. Fresh daily.’”

Paru sighed, long and slow. “It’s not even shocking anymore. Just tiring. Like I have to factor in clean-up time everywhere.”

Erin bumped her shoulder gently. “You’re still the prettiest girl covered in cum I’ve ever seen.”

“That’s… not comforting.”

“Still true, though.”

They reached Ayesha’s house — a redbrick terrace with flowerpots outside the steps and that warm, welcoming hum that always made it feel like a second home. Ayesha had texted that tea was ready, and they could study after, maybe even order dinner if it went late.

Paru was looking forward to it. Or had been.

The front door opened just as they stepped up to knock.

It wasn’t Ayesha who opened it.

It was her older brother — tall, smug, and already holding his cock in his hand.

“Oh, brilliant,” he said, like he’d just won a bet. “Right on time.”

Paru blinked. “Wait, what are you—”. He pushed both girls to their knees. And it was done before they could react.

One shot exploded directly on top of Paru’s head, the white splattering downward instantly. The second followed immediately — striking her right cheek, sliding down across her jaw and collarbone, then dripping onto her jumper. She gasped in outrage, frozen.

Erin received only a flick — a light splash across her forehead and into her fringe, hardly more than a smear. She flinched back.

“Seriously?” Erin muttered, wiping it off with a groan. “Come on.”

Paru stood up in stunned silence. The cum was everywhere now. Again. Coating her hairline. Curling over her ear. Her clothes were stained. Her expression was unreadable — not because she wasn’t feeling anything, but because she was feeling too much.

“Wow,” she said quietly. “Again.”

Ayesha came running into the hallway, wide-eyed. “Are you kidding me?!” she snapped at her brother. “I told you to wait until they were inside. I didn’t even say you could!”

He just shrugged, grinning. “Law’s the law. I was leaving anyway.”

And with that, he stepped past them and out the door like nothing had happened. Like it was a handshake.

Ayesha turned back, her face full of guilt. “Paru, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know he was going to actually do it.”

Paru gave a long, slow blink. She could feel the whites beginning to harden on her scalp again.

“No, it’s okay,” she said, though her voice was paper-thin. “It’s normal now, isn’t it?”

She stepped inside, her shoes squelching slightly.

Erin followed, frowning and still wiping her forehead.

Ayesha rushed to grab towels, tissues, anything.

“You can shower if you want,” she offered, almost pleading. “Really — my room’s free.”

Paru shook her head faintly. “I’ll study like this. Why not? Apparently, this is just who I am now.”

She laughed under her breath. It wasn’t humour. It was survival.

And when they finally sat down with mugs of tea, she didn’t even bother to hide how the cum still clung to her neckline, sticky and drying.

Because if this was going to keep happening, Paru thought bitterly — maybe the only thing left was to stop pretending it was strange.

The evening passed more gently than expected.

Ayesha had made a warm chickpea curry with flatbreads, and the smell alone helped smooth the jagged edges of Paru’s mood. They ate on the floor with plates balanced on cushions, laughing when Ayesha dropped her spoon, sharing stories from campus, and ignoring — deliberately — the state of Paru’s face.

The cum had dried again. It formed a pale, glistening mask around her forehead, across her cheek, and down one side of her neck. Strands of her hair clung stubbornly to her skin. At some point, Ayesha had asked again if she wanted to wash it off.

Paru had just shaken her head. “I don’t even notice it anymore.”

And in a way, she didn’t. Or rather, she was getting used to noticing it — the warm cum turning cold, the tightness, the smell — and carrying on anyway. It was becoming a background condition of her life.

After dinner, they pulled out notebooks and laptops. Ayesha was struggling with biochemistry — the same subject Paru excelled at — and it felt good, at least, to do something purposeful. Something that reminded Paru of who she really was.

They sat for over an hour, heads bent over diagrams and reaction chains, Ayesha scribbling notes while Paru explained enzyme mechanisms like it was second nature.

Eventually, Erin got up to leave.

“I’m gonna shower. And maybe scream into a pillow for a bit,” she said, pulling her coat on. “You staying late?”

“Yeah. Might crash here,” Paru said, half-yawning. “If I can survive one more hour of Ayesha's handwriting.”

“Rude,” Ayesha muttered, but smiled.

They hugged, and Erin disappeared into the evening.

Much later, after Ayesha had gone to bed and the house had gone quiet, Paru checked her phone.

A notification lit the screen:
Photo From Erin.

She opened it.

It was a selfie — and Paru gasped.

Erin, standing in what looked like their flat’s hallway mirror, was covered. A full face hit. The cum was thick and clinging, running in slow, glossy trails down her forehead, over her eyelids, cheeks, nose, and chin. Her mouth was open mid-laugh, strands of it stuck to her lips and jaw. Her hair was soaked, heavy with it, curled in wet spirals at the sides of her face.

She looked wrecked — and radiant.

The caption underneath:

"Well. Turns out you really were my shield** #FirstHit #TinderGoldMaterial #IHateThis"**

Paru stared at it for a long moment.

She felt a strange swirl of emotions — surprise, sympathy, a flicker of satisfaction. Erin had finally been hit like she had. She wasn’t happy about it, but there was something weirdly bonding in it. A shared absurdity.

She typed back:

"Told you. Being hot is dangerous work. Welcome to the club."

Then, after a pause:

"That photo is kind of iconic though. Might even outshine mine."

A few seconds later, Erin replied:

"Nah. You're still the queen. But now I'm your messy, cum-drenched understudy**"**

Paru smiled — tired, cum covered, and strangely comforted.

She put her phone down beside her and lay back on the guest bed, not even bothering to wash her face.

It was ridiculous, it was unfair, and it was far from over.

But she wasn’t alone in it anymore.