Oc-tit-via

You are Octavia, and your life is a mess. Was it really just a few days ago that you were happy? That you were in a great relationship? That half the school didn't know what you sound like having sex?

You don't even care that much anymore. Your anger burned out a while ago, and it burned most everything else inside you up with it.

You just keep practicing your cello. You're not enjoying it like you used to, but at least it helps the time go by. You've been playing for an hour now. That's one less hour until you finish high school and leave all this behind. One less hour you have to be in the same state as Vinyl Scratch. One less hour you have to be alive.

Your hands keep moving, making sound, while you think about how nice it will be to finally be done with all this nonsense.

You hear some noises from downstairs, but you don't pay them any mind. It's only when somebody starts rapping on your door that you stop. This had better be important.

You open your door. As soon as you see the white skin behind it you close it again.

She keeps pounding on it. "Octavia, open up. I have to tell you something. It's important."

You ignore her yelling. You have nothing to say to her. After a few moments, you hear her stomp off. Soon two sets of footsteps returned.

The door opens and your mom comes in. "Octavia, honey, Vinyl wants to talk to you."

You sigh. This is cheating. She just had to go and bring your mom into this.

You get up. You know your mom isn't asking you to do this, so you might as well get it over with quickly.

You open your door. Vinyl is standing there. Her brother is with her too, and she has him in a half-nelson.

"What," you say.

"This guy," she says, shoving him forward, "has something to tell you." She snarls at him, "Isn't that right."

He doesn't say anything. Or make eye contact with you. He just stares at the floor.

She twists his arm, "C'mon!"

Finally he mumbles something. You can't make it out.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" you ask.

He manages to lift his eyes to the level of your chest. "I'm the one who posted you video," he says, "I'm sorry for violating your privacy and hurting your relationship with Vinyl. I deleted the video, and I'm grounded for the rest of the year."

"At least," Vinyl adds, letting him go. He sulks downstairs. She looks at you. "So, uh, yeah," she says.

You're not sure if you can believe what you just heard. It sounds too good to be true. But you know what? You really want it to be true, so you do. You hug Vinyl tightly. "I'm so sorry I accused you. I should have believed you."

She hugs you back. "And I'm sorry I insisted on making that video in the first place." She kisses you. "But now my pervert of a brother is going to get what's coming to him— seriously, I don't think I've ever seen my parents as mad as they were when I told them what was going on." She rubs the back of her neck, "On that note, I can't stay too long, I might have been just a little drunk during the whole thing, so they're not super happy with me either. But the point is now everything is back to normal."

"Except for the part where the whole school has seen out sex tape," you point out.

"Eh, give it a week or two and there'll probably be some magic bullshit that goes down and everyone will forget about it."

You rest your head on her shoulder. She's right. Of course she's right. Everything is going to be okay.

"Well, I have to go," she says, "I'll be able to come back over here in, like, two weeks."

You kiss her as she turns to leave. "I'll see you in two weeks then."

"Couldn't keep me away!" she says as she walks down the hall.

It's been two weeks, and you are incredibly horny. Now, you love Vinyl for a lot more than just sex and you're excited for those things too, but she is really good in bed, and you haven't gotten off this whole time. You're saving up.

Fuck, you can't wait for school to end. You're listening to the clock, each tick is like Vinyl's finger tapping on your pussy. When did minutes get so long?

Finally the bell rings. You rush outside looking for her. She's waiting for you in the parking lot. You get in her car.

She turns the key. "Hey," she says, "are you wearing panties?"

"Of course I'm wearing panties. What kind of a question is that?"

"Well, I mean," she says, unbuttoning her pants to show you the bare skin underneath, "I'm not. No bra either." She puts two fingers on her shirt and spreads them, pulling the fabric taut, making her nipple show through it.

"Good for you. But I practically had a damn river running down my legs even with them." In the enclosed space, you can smell the air filling with the scent of arousal.

She starts the car. "Well now we're heading out, so take them off."

You look at her and shrug. "It's your seat," you say. You reach up your skirt and work your panties down and off. You hand them to her. "Here you go."

"Perfect." She hangs them from the mirror like an air freshener.

She drives to your house as fast as she can. You both run up into your room. You slam the door shut. You don't even have time to turn around before she grabs the edges of your shirt and lifts. You raise your arms, letting her pull it off you. Soon your skirt is also on the ground. Somehow she's already completely naked.

She kisses you; her tongue goes in your mouth, one arm she wraps around you, the other goes between your legs. You return the favor.

But as good as it feels to have her fingers in you, this isn't enough. You need more. You step apart. "Are you ready?"

She nods. "Can I go first? I didn't get my turn last time."

You are past caring about anything as long as you end up naked in bed with her, and you tell her so.

You lie down on your back. Your breasts once again settling across your chest. She takes a towel out of her closet and puts it under your head. "I think we're going to need this. Then she climbs up and kneels over you.

You grab her thighs and pull her down onto your face. You need to taste her pussy. It glistens in the last moment before it lands on your waiting lips.

You lap at her vigorously. It's intoxicating. The taste, the smell, the warm pressure all around your head, the moans and gasps that your probing tongue elicits. You can feel her juices dripping down your chin. Your tongue dances on her clit. You suck on it. It is a pearl of impossibly smooth flesh in a sea of softness. Soon you hear her: "Unh, ung, fuuuck, I'm gonna cum." You keep licking and open your mouth wide as her pussy convulses. It is soon filled with the spray of cum that she releases. You let the hot, slippery fluid— pure liquid sex— cover your face. Her legs tremble in your hands.

You let her catch her breath for a moment. Then you start again. She gasps weakly.

She shifts then, laying on top of you, lowering her head to your pussy. The joy of giving her pleasure mixes with the pleasure she begins to give you. You feel her tongue on your thighs, on your lips, inside you. You moan into her cunt, and she into yours.

You're both pent up; both of you are getting straight to the point. You cum. Your back arches up into her body which is trembling from her second orgasm. It's bliss. Soon you can no longer tell where your body ends and hers begins. There's not two lovers anymore, only a tangled knot of limbs and breasts and genitals, all aglow with pleasure. Your tongue tires, your fingers take its place. Positions shift, your heads are together again and hips grind against hips.

You fuck, and you fuck, and you fuck until your bodies give out. And then you lie there, you two women, and you say you want to love each other forever, and you grin snarkily and ask in what sense while you reach down for a handful of pussy but it's still too sore and you apologize and you cuddle as all the sweat and cum that covers you dries and you sleep and dream of each other.

In the morning you fuck some more.