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Click hereKimberley had it easy. She had been totally comfortable with herself and the life she led ever since junior high, when everyone's hormones were going crazy and she just couldn't figure out what the big deal was about getting into fights over girls (or guys) and spreading rumors about sexual escapades with whoever (or whatever). She kinda felt sorry for all of em – every once in a while, she'd see one of her more adventurous friends descend into the waking coma of 'I still feel like a little kid' and 'no one really respects me' – and she just tried to reassure them (and herself) that it was natural, it was hormones, it would pass, and look at me, I've got it under control.
Kim sure did have it under control. And it was true what everyone, behind her back, said about her: she was stuck-up. She didn't admit it to herself, and she sure as fuck knew she didn't want to be another pigtailed sneer in half-calf boots, but she felt just as superior as them. She just knew better than to flaunt it directly – no, the most powerful, soul-crushing, psychopath-producing brand of superiority is passive-aggressive. Just ask her one-year-younger sister, Katie.
Katie had fun. She had been caught watching her cousin masturbate in the basement of the church during their mom's second wedding, when she was 14 – and he was 12. At least, 'watching' is what the woman who caught them called it, and Katie did briefly consider correcting her: 'actually, you cunt, I was teaching him. He's fucking twelve.'
Kimberley has done her best to raise the poor abused boy right over the past 4 years and cope with the unspeakable damage that Katie did to him. It started with 'stay away from Katie,' and, now that he's 16 and he's gotten into soccer, it's 'stay away from girls like Katie.' You're a true hero, sis.
But Kim's had her own sexual experiences! She played spin the bottle, for like, 7 spins, and it landed on her, but, y'know, it was getting late and stuff. Oh, and that time she played truth or dare. She didn't get dared, but someone actually asked her what her cup size was, and she told them! Everyone heard it! Her heart was racing.
And now she's got this mild-mannered yet teeth-grittingly gorgeous boyfriend, named Jerry of all things, and now they're engaged, and Kim won't shut the fuck up about how he's more than a man for her to even handle, much less even think about another man, and Katie still feels like she might as well be teaching all her half-drunk hookups how to masturbate. The best orgasms she's ever had have still been on top of a vibrator – thinking about that one time she caught Jerry staring at her over Kim's shoulder while he hugged her.
See, it's not so hard to imagine that Jerry would go for Katie if he's so gaga over Kim – they're almost the same from the neck down. Katie thinks Kim's C-cups are a little perkier, and Kim thinks Katie's ass and legs are a little fuller, but they're pretty much just making up reasons to resent each other. They could share every article of clothing they wore (though they only actually did as a goof, since their two fashion senses were like Yin and Yang), and there were a few pictures in the photo album where you couldn't see their face or hairstyle very well and literally no one could tell who it was. They called them photos of Katerley.
Katie had a small butterfly tattoo just above and to the left of her little patch, and a barbell through the nipple of her left breast, but of course such things never got brought up while perusing the family photo album.
So yeah, both of them have gotten into college, and Kim's going to Princeton, so they'll probably never see each other again, like, hardly ever. And, Kim being the mature one after all, she decided she wanted to bond with her sister a little, or at least make her feel a little more accepted by her. It might help her gain some real self-respect before she's tossed out there to make something of herself. And, of course, it might get her to listen to her when she kept telling her to grow up and stop having so much fun.
Katie came down the stairs wearing what she'd slept in, a short lavender babydoll and a pink pair of those ridiculous designer panties that are just one strip of lace in a V shape. Kimberley, of course, had been awake for an hour now, and was looking professional in slacks, a white button-down with wide, flat collar wings across her collarbones, and a gray blazer.
"You couldn't be more desperate to look old, could you," Katie muttered groggily as she made a bowl of cereal. "You should be holding up the Business section and wearing your morning reading glasses." She sat down next to her and threw her feet up on another chair, proudly stretching out her long, tan, and allegedly better-toned legs.
"Well how are you planning to dress today, then, Katie?" Kim would never catch on that her habit of repeating Katie's name every other sentence was perhaps the single most infuriating thing she did.
Katie put her bowl down and decided to retaliate with her tried-and-true sexual competitiveness – it if didn't make Kim flat-out jealous, at least it proudly defied her conservative sensibilities. "Well, I just got this wicked pair of black boots, and of course what else is there to wear with boots but fishnets?" She drew her nails luxuriously up her legs, leaving goosebumps. "My stockings will eventually disappear underneath a criminally tight miniskirt, and as for what to frame these luscious babies with," – she cradled her breasts together under the lace – "I was thinking, maybe, just that itsy-bitsy little leather vest I love. Over a blood-red camisole. For modesty." She picked up her bowl. "Oh, and a choker."
Kim chuckled, but with a sarcastic manner and a shake of the head. "Anyone can dress like that and get the reactions you do, y'know. It's not like it makes you special or powerful, Katie."
"Sure it does," she shot back without looking up from her bowl, "cuz I got balls. Just cuz anyone can kill someone doesn't mean a murderer isn't special," she looked at her pointedly, "or powerful." She looked back down. "Seriously, what makes you so fuckin sure that you could be me if you tried? That you'd actually be able to sit through a whole class, barely dressed, surrounded by smoldering gazes?"
"Well, Katie, you're just desensitized. You've-"
"Fuck you, 'desensitized'," Katie laughed venomously. "You don't know the first fucking thing about sensation. I'm the one here who's explored sensation. And lemme tell you, I don't regret a single thing I've ever done, or felt. Not one goddamn thing, even things that hurt. So no, I'm not desensitized or traumatized or scared of true love or whatever the fuck." She seemed as closed up as a blast door at that point, and Kim felt that sinking ball inside that visits you when you've totally taken a conversation in the exact opposite direction you meant to.
Not the end of the world, though... just use it. You've joked around amicably plenty of times – hell, insulting each other is the only way you guys communicate for real anyway. Just keep coming at her.
"Y'know, you might have no problem defending your lifestyle sittin' here around the breakfast table talking about how you feel, but I'd like to actually see you at one of your crazy parties one night and see just how much fun you actually have. I really would. I'll bet all the guys are losers and then when you spot one that's hot you can't even say 'hey, you're hot!' cuz the music is stupid loud, and then you get drunk and pass out alone in a guestroom."
Katie just grinned and shook her head, scraping up the last spoonful of cereal. "If that's really what you think, I feel genuinely sorry for you... and it prolly is, cuz if you had any idea, you'd flat-out leave Mr. Clean-Cut that you got wrapped so tight around your lil' finger there."
Kim started to feel where she wanted to go. "Oh I don't think Jerry would be against a decent party. Notice I said DECENT. You wouldn't know where to find one of those."
Katie snorted. "Y'know, he's got the goods, don't get me wrong, but for the life of me I can't imagine him doing anything in bed but lying there moaning at you. Same goes for you, for that matter – do you guys just hold hands and moan at each other all night?"
Kate's corrosiveness aside, Kim had to admit, both her and Jerry were trying and failing to spice things up. They'd been together for years and they'd made enough love to turn the sky pink, but they wanted to FUCK! And every time one of em would try to talk dirty or get rough, they'd both just burst into laughter – it was just so absurdly awkward. And yet, when the chuckles died down, there was this horrible emptiness, and frustration.
What the hell... Maybe Katie could help.
"Ok, Katie, so what would you do with Jerry, then?" The mood had obviously taken a 90-degree turn. "Maybe you're right, maybe Jerry's as inexperienced as I am and he needs a girl to really, y'know, take him out there and back. What do you think I can actually do?"
Katie's whole body was tensed, like a cat that had just landed from a fall. She stared at her empty bowl, racing to decide how much to reveal. She decided to buy time. "Alright sis, if you really wanna go there, why don't you tell me what you HAVEN'T done."
Kim was uncomfortable already, but determined to hide it. "What do you mean? I do everything he asks me to..."
"Okay, so you blow him. Do you swallow?"
Kim was afraid a question like that was coming up, but she was already steeled. "No."
"Lemme guess: 'he hasn't asked me to'," she declared snappily. Kim felt like a mouse in a maze, and Katie was the doctor. "What else don't you do?"
"Well..." Kim finally decided to open up. How could she not and still expect Katie to? "I have been kinda thinkin about that... I don't, like, kiss his neck, maybe, and, y'know when you're on top? Well, I was thinking maybe he'd like it if I, y'know, like, touched myself, like, play with my breasts."
"What's your favorite position?"
"Missionary."
"I fuckin' knew it," she said with a rock of her chair and the Smirk of the Year. "Alright, 'Dissatisfied in Denver', have you done him reverse-cowgirl?"
"Yes."
"Spooning?"
"Yes, of course."
"Standing?"
"Yeah... once. It was pretty-"
"Doggystyle." There was a finality to that one.
"No. But he's never..." Kim trailed off, feeling stupid. Katie couldn't have looked more full of herself.
"Well holy shit, we've made a breakthrough," she mocked. Kim just continued feeling stupid.
"Look, you do just need to get out," Katie continued. "You can't fuck the same person in the same place, probably around the same time of day, for years, and expect the sex to improve. You need to start by at least changing the place you start the night at."
"Alright, alright, I said I was serious and I am. We'll tag along with you one night."
"You're wearing my clothes then."
"Uh... Fine, but I get to choose which."
"Fine," Katie snorted, "not like you'll find anything unsexy." She picked up her bowl. "And don't even think about hiding behind him all night. You're gonna talk to people and shit. Bonus points if they're guys. Jealous sex is the second best kind." Katie got up and put her bowl in the sink. Kim waited, then bit.
"So..." Another pause. "The best is..."
"Rape." She grinned at Kim as she walked out, leaving her seriously disturbed.
That would explain a lot. If she'd been raped, and no one had any idea. But when? Before she was 14, before she molested her cousin? That was almost impossible. Maybe she just kinda meant bondage.
Maybe she didn't. Maybe she was in need of a lot more help than Kim thought.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
So party night finally came. Kim and Jerry followed Katie's directions – to the community college campus nearby. They pulled up to a house on the campus' edge, and it became clear that this was a fraternity-sorority mixer. A crazy one. The bass could be heard down the street. Some lights were off – maybe broken. The door was open. The smell of smoke was overpowering.
Kim got out wearing black leather pants, yellow ankle-strapped heels that showed off a pedicure, a black halter top that did not show cleavage but did display her iron abs and sleek back proudly, a pair of sheer black gloves that reached her elbows, and, at Katie's furious insistence, a simple but tight black choker. She didn't feel too bad, mainly cuz of the full coverage of her breasts, but it might have backfired, she thought to herself – the top gave her so much lift and pressed them together so tight that she had a serious shelf effect going on. And it was even tight enough to hug the underside of her tits and curve up in the middle. But it was all covered!
Jerry was dressed simply, in a blue polo and dark grey slacks. She could tell Jerry had a raging erection the whole drive. He really was excited about this, she could tell. For a second, she rehashed all the things he might like that he's just never had the balls to mention, and she actually started getting really frustrated with him – she had to remind herself that she didn't know anything yet, really.
But I sure plan to find out, she thought with a small grin.
"Kim!" she heard from inside the house, and then Katie came running out to give her the first big hug she had ever given her. Like, ever. Kim's smile could have powered a city block. She laughed and hugged her back, and they finally disengaged when they started getting hoots and howls from guys – and girls - hoping for some girl-on-girl.
"So you fuckin' came. No turnin' back now. You look OKAY, I guess." She glanced down at her shelf. "You wore the choker, so I guess I can't bitch too much." Kim glanced down at Katie's neck and realized she was wearing the exact same choker.
"Yeah, well you were right about not owning anything not sexy, Katie." She smiled to stay friendly. "You total nympho."
She pouted. "I'm not bad, I just act that way!" With that, she smiled at Jerry, and her whole demeanor became that of a preening little girl. She even leaned on one leg. "Hi, Jerry."
"Oh hey Katie. Been awhile," he said with a big dumb smile. She 'mm-hmm'ed. Kim rolled her eyes.
"Well we're gonna get something to drink or something," Kim said. "Let's go Jer."
"Actually Jer, you can see the bar from here, I wanted Kim to meet someone real quick, you wouldn't be interested." She grabbed Kim's wrist, and Jerry just sorta shrugged.
"Sure, that's cool, I'll find you afterward, Kim."
"Uhm, alright, sure," Kim said. Katie led her to the back of the house, then suddenly wheeled back around on her.
"Kimberleeeeeeey, you said you weren't gonna hide behind him, and the first thing you say is 'WE'RE gonna go get a drink'," she mocked. Kim chuckled.
"Yeah, I guess you're right... Well... Now what?"
"Trust me," she said, a glimmer in her eye.
The next hour or so was just a total miasma. Guys, girls, others, neithers, no one even tried to give names. Sometimes Katie would just abandon Kim talking to someone, then appear outta nowhere and yank her away to someplace else. It was kinda fun, though – every guy, without exception, was clearly in some way taken by Kim. She started to feel powerful. And those words from that day, about feeling powerful, came back to her clothed in irony.
From the glimpses she caught of Jerry here and there, he was clearly having the same effect on the girls of the party. They were all batting their eyelashes and swirling their drinks with one finger and then sucking on that finger and all that shit. One was even up against his side as they talked, smiling a smile that Kim found truly hateful.
But it was okay, because Kim was going home with him, and she wasn't. And, quite frankly, it gave her license to flaunt her power over other guys, without worrying about what Jer world think. So what the fuck.
Then, she saw Katie come up to her looking like the goddess of mischief herself. She put her lips up to Kim's ear.
"I just got done talking with Jerry. He said he wanted you to meet him in the closet in the bedroom upstairs, the third room on the right up the stairs. In the CLOSET," she repeated. Her grin could have cut diamond. "Are you gonna go?"
Kim was incredibly intrigued. She might have been a little worried, but she knew that Jer wouldn't be going for anything too crazy, like a threesome or whatever. She trusted him. And she had to admit, just the mysteriousness of it all was so exciting, she was literally lightheaded.
"Well yeah, of course I'm gonna go! I can't just-"
"Well then hurry the fuck up, bitch! Think of what you can do if you're there when he gets there. Now's your chance to rock his fucking world!" She literally shoved her toward the stairs, and Kim laughed, nervously, then went on her way.
The music just seemed to disappear into thin air, or rather thick air, like none of the sound waves could reach her through the thick fog of hormones and general disorientation. She knew she was supposed to be doing all this just to connect with Katie better, but god, she had never really been to a serious party before, much less had sex in someone else's closet, and just the thought, now that it was about to happen, was literally more exciting than her first time was. Time slowed down as she walked. She thought she'd be forever walking halfway at a time toward the third door on the right and never actually reach it, ever. But there it was, and there she was, and she saw the bedroom.
She turned the lights on, just out of reflex... then turned them off. The room only had the slightest bit of light seeping into it, and all she could see was a basic bedroom.
And the closet. That magnetic closet. With a washboard-style door, with the slits you always imagine voyeurs watching you undress though. It was open, and pitch-black inside, and empty. So, without hesitating like a moron alone in the doorway, she walked, skipped actually, into the closet.
She didn't quite realize the state she was in until she was alone with her breathing. It was booming – gasping erratically, loud enough to overcome the music downstairs. She suddenly thought that Jer would come in and see her waiting there in the closet, through the darkness somehow, and it would ruin everything, so she folded the wide closet door closed, and was ecstatic to find that she could indeed see out. She'd be so ready for him when he came up. If she didn't pass out first.
She focused on her breathing and was pleased to hear it ebb. She was starting to feel downright embarrassed at how worked up she was. The leather against her crotch was literally almost hot enough to hurt her, just from her own body heat. She was shaking, goosebumped all over, her cheeks flushed, and her nipples were doing their damndest to show through the vinyl of her halter top, she could feel it. She had never felt so goddamn sexy in her dreams, much less her life.
Then, as her breathing finally quieted, she noticed another sound. Another breath. Someone else breathing. Behind her. And just as she started to turn her head, she was brutally pinned against the closet door.
He had been there all along, drinking in the shape of her body against the dim light through the slits. And he was at least as excited as she was. She could feel his cock against her ass, grinding into it, twitching against it, and her knees almost gave out. His whole body pressed against hers, he grabbed her hips and began kissing the side of her neck voraciously.
"Oh my god!... Oh fuck yes, Jer, oh, god I want you..." she moaned, and she tried for a second to turn around to face him, but that was clearly impossible. All she could do was reach around behind him and arch her back, inviting her ass against his hungry hips. She felt the ridges of the door against her poor breasts, and she felt his hands rise up her sides, across the sides of her tits, then he grunted deeply and both his hands flew to her crotch.