Infatuation Ch. 01

Then I remembered I had school, so I got ready in record time and went to mope in a different location. My friends said nothing; they just ignored me like Jemma did.

When I got home around three in the afternoon, I moped again, in my room, and did so until six o'clock. That's when Jemma actually came to my room. Not to talk to me or tell me she wanted to show me her body, mind you – just to tell me that dinner was on the table. She said it quickly and left, but reappeared almost straight away.

"Are you okay?" she asked uncertainly.

I decided that I wasn't going to let this stupid craving get in the way of my life anymore, so I rolled over, sat up and nodded.

Jemma smiled, said, "Okay," and started walking away.

"Hey, Jem," I said, and was relieved to see her come back. "Sorry about the whole ... you know."

I couldn't really read her expression then. It may have been amusement or it may have been pity. It might even have been disgust.

"I won't try to do it again," I said, and smiled. Jemma smiled back, a little hesitantly, and reminded me about dinner.

"Come on," she said, and led the way downstairs.

And so my quest ended, with only that single, rapturous moment to sustain me for the rest of my miserable existence. Nevermore would I...

Ah, what's the point? You all know there's more to come, anyway, so I won't bother. But just in case you think this was a very ordinary, very uninspired part of the tale, just remember that every good story has to have a beginning. And an end. And a middle. And a buxom heroine who has a butt you could crack a walnut on. Or so I hear. So stay tuned for more walnut-cracking, breast-ogling fun in the future. Ciao.