Yesterday, 03:23 PM
Scene 8
I stood frozen under the yellow bulb. I felt the weight of his gaze physically pressing against my skin.
I felt he wanted to touch me.
It was terrifying because I was a fraud. I walked around college with my big hoodies, and people assumed things, but the truth was simple: I had never been seen. I had never been touched. No boy had ever unhooked my bra. No hand had ever held this weight.
He moved closer. He didn't grab me yet. He invaded my personal space until his chest was inches from my bare breasts.
He looked down. He wasn't looking at my face. He was studying the anatomy of my chest with a mix of shock and hunger.
"I have never seen breasts like yours," he whispered, his voice rough like gravel.
He reached out. He didn't hold the breast. He touched the tip.
My nipples were hard, reacting to the danger. They stood up tall and dark against my pale skin.
His thumb brushed the very peak. It was electric.
"And nipples so perky and so full," he murmured, shaking his head. "It is like there are no areolas... there is only nipple that has grown."
He was right. My nipples were unusually large, swollen and prominent, dominating the dark skin around them. They looked like berries waiting to be picked.
He looked up into my eyes. His pupils were blown wide, black holes swallowing the light.
"I bet it tastes 100 times better," he said.
He didn't wait for me to agree. He didn't wait for me to breathe.
He leaned down.
He opened his mouth. He didn't kiss my lips. He captured the large, hard nipple between his lips.
Slurp.
The wet sound echoed in the tiny wooden box. He sucked hard, pulling the sensitive flesh deep into his mouth, tasting the anomaly he had found.
My knees gave way. I grabbed his back to stop myself from falling. I dug my fingers into his shirt. I wasn't the invisible girl in the hoodie anymore. I was the girl moaning in the trial room while the tailor tasted her secret.
I stood frozen under the yellow bulb. I felt the weight of his gaze physically pressing against my skin.
I felt he wanted to touch me.
It was terrifying because I was a fraud. I walked around college with my big hoodies, and people assumed things, but the truth was simple: I had never been seen. I had never been touched. No boy had ever unhooked my bra. No hand had ever held this weight.
He moved closer. He didn't grab me yet. He invaded my personal space until his chest was inches from my bare breasts.
He looked down. He wasn't looking at my face. He was studying the anatomy of my chest with a mix of shock and hunger.
"I have never seen breasts like yours," he whispered, his voice rough like gravel.
He reached out. He didn't hold the breast. He touched the tip.
My nipples were hard, reacting to the danger. They stood up tall and dark against my pale skin.
His thumb brushed the very peak. It was electric.
"And nipples so perky and so full," he murmured, shaking his head. "It is like there are no areolas... there is only nipple that has grown."
He was right. My nipples were unusually large, swollen and prominent, dominating the dark skin around them. They looked like berries waiting to be picked.
He looked up into my eyes. His pupils were blown wide, black holes swallowing the light.
"I bet it tastes 100 times better," he said.
He didn't wait for me to agree. He didn't wait for me to breathe.
He leaned down.
He opened his mouth. He didn't kiss my lips. He captured the large, hard nipple between his lips.
Slurp.
The wet sound echoed in the tiny wooden box. He sucked hard, pulling the sensitive flesh deep into his mouth, tasting the anomaly he had found.
My knees gave way. I grabbed his back to stop myself from falling. I dug my fingers into his shirt. I wasn't the invisible girl in the hoodie anymore. I was the girl moaning in the trial room while the tailor tasted her secret.
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