(warning! At first there are some seriously lame lines in here, then it gets interesting with sex stuff. So if you‘re not into *that* kind of thing, don‘t read. But the sex stuff isn‘t well written anyhow because I didn‘t have much time. Sorry!)
5 am in the morning. Ugh, why am I so lonely? We’re in London. And I’m laying in my room. God, I can’t stop thinking about Joe. What is wrong with me? Am I in love with my almost-uncle? No, just needy perhaps. I need a fuck, *now*. It’s been 4 ½ days already! So I get up and walk down the hall. Wearing nothing but my night teddy. I go to the ice machine and get a drink of water and hear someone behind me,
“Excuse me?” I turn around. I recognize this guy. Tall, skinny, dark hair. Carter Clapton. And he’s not wearing a shirt. Maybe we both had the same idea?
“Yeah, you. You ruined me and Di.” he glares at me.
“How did I do that that?”
“Because, you hooked her up with your dad who’s older than the NATO alliance.”
“You idiot. The NATO Alliance was formed in 1949. My dad’s only a year older than that. I mean, it makes your argument, but that’s not very old.”
“Oh, I thought that sh.it was back in World War One.”
“Someone obviously didn’t pay attention in History class.”
“I don’t have to. My talents… lie elsewhere.” he grins.
“I see. As do mine. And I hear from your ex-”girlfriend” that you fu.ck epically. Well?” I pout my lips.
“Better than my dad. And that’s sayin’ a lot. How about you?”
“Act like a Jagger, fu.ck like a Tyler. Always been my motto.”
“Good, ‘cause I wanna Lord over your thighs.” he steps closer to me.
“Mmhm… well, guess it really is in the way that you use it.” I close the gap between us. His left hand slid down to my chest, his right, holding the small of my back. I started to undo the button on his jeans. Our lips meet, and I slip my tongue inside his mouth. He runs his fingers from my breasts all the way down my stomach and past my pelvis. He lifts me up by the legs and pushes me into the ice machine.
“So, should I test that dad theory after this?” I smirk.
“Jeez, don’t ruin it.” he laughs, working his hand up my nightie. I start kissing his neck, getting a little excited, and bite him.
“Damn, you’re a little rough, aren’t you?” he slams me harder into the wall this time.
“Shut up, no talking.” I trace my fingers down to his crotch. And I press my body against his, skin on skin. He grabs my arm, squeezing it hard.
“Yes ma’am.” he nods. I put my leg on top of his shoulder. And then I can feel him rip into me. I let out a loud gasp. Sweating, moaning, pushing (perhaps a little *too* rigorously)… yeah, I’d call this epically fuc.king. I begin screaming like a banshee as he thrusts into me. My nails digging into his back, my teeth biting him. Finally I lean back and I scream louder than I probably ever have my entire life. I grip for dear life on the wall. He moans and then gives it one last push. We let go. I try to stand up, but my legs are weak, I fall to the floor.
“Whoa, you okay there?” he looks down, redoing his pants now.
I’m lightheaded, but I manage to nod, “I think so.”
“Alright, I’ll take you back to your room.” he picks me up in his arms and carries me down the hall. “Which room is it?”
“421.” my hoarse voice says.
When we get there he opens the door, silly me, I’d left it unlocked, and he tosses me on the bed. “I don’t think I’ve had a better time.”
“Me neither.” I agree, noticing the scratches on his chest.
“See you around.” he sighs, looking like he wants me to invite him to stay. No thank you. But after 10 awkward second of just standing there, he leaves.
I’m not entirely sure how long I’d been asleep. Maybe two or three hours. But at sunrise, there is a knock on the door. “Come in.” I groan.
It’s the headmistress. She walks in and glares at me, “Get your lazy bum up. Your father is here, he wants to talk to you.”
“Which one?” I lift my head up from the pillow. No way in hell am I getting up.
She looks at me like I’m stupid, “Do you have any other fathers I don’t know about who live here?”
Great, like I feel like talking to Mick at a time like this. I pull myself up a bit, “What does Mick the di.ck want?”
“Never you mind. In *my* we didn’t speak of our elders in that way. Just get up and he’ll be here in a few minutes.” she turns he back and leaves. That’s it, as soon as he hits 70, I’m going to get all of my half sibling to stick him in a Nursing Home.