Mutual Benefits Ch. 03

GameStop was still alright, though it was annoying to balance my school life with my work life now, even before tutoring. I guess this was how most students felt. I couldn't imagine doing extracurriculars on top of all this. I couldn't imagine how Kevin was surviving.

"How do you manage to do school, work, and extracurriculars?" I asked him while he was gaming.

He shrugged. "You get into a rhythm, I guess," he answered, eyes still on the television. "Honestly, fast food isn't that terrible. You just have to switch your brain off and just do the thing in front of you. It's like you're a part of a machine. You watch, dude - all fast food is gonna be automated by, like, 2020. I assume GameStop is kinda the same."

"Nnnnot really," I admitted. "It's more dealing with people than anything. They have questions, they want to know 'what games are on the PS4' and expect you to list five games, they ask, like, 'what's the game that has a sword in it' and look at you funny when you say you need more information..."

Kevin paused the game and turned to grin at me. "You would think the worst part of the job is talking to people," he joked.

"I'm just saying, it's annoying. I mean, like, I guess it's better for me, but, I dunno, I just want them to... know their own stuff, y'know?"

Kevin unpaused and resumed playing. "Well, it's definitely affecting you; you kinda talk different now."

"How so?"

"Maybe last month, you talked like a politician fresh out of a scandal that just inhaled a Speak & Spell. Like, very careful wording. Now you're a little more free with it and you say 'like' and 'y'know' a lot."

"Is that bad?" I felt myself getting worried. How long has this been going on?

"Nah dude, it's fine. It's even great. It's a common part of learning to speak like a human being." Kevin shut up from that point forward since he was fighting a boss. I knew not to talk to him when he was fighting a boss - last time I did, he lost, blamed me, and got decently upset.

Was I talking differently? Was it a good thing? I didn't know, but I guess I trusted Kevin's judgment. There were worse fates than talking like everyone else, I suppose.

***

Morgan didn't accompany us when we went to the library after that, even just to get driven home. Part of me felt bad - she did buy me food, and in general she had at least a sense of justice, which I respected. I didn't feel bad for standing up for myself though. I submitted too much around the house. To Kevin, to Mother, to Father, to anyone with a loud enough voice. I doubt I would have been able to stand up to Morgan like how I did if it wasn't over a phone.

Another thing changed. We ended up going to the library less and less, and her house more and more. I guess the library was just an idea she had. To Taylor's credit, somehow she was able to pick up on concepts faster at her own house. That said, every single time I went to her house, it was the same level of clean, the basement was the same level of messy, and her mom was even in the exact same position. I don't know why that sameness bothered me so much, but it just baffled me.

"Alright, you're all caught up," I announced as I closed the textbook. "We could work ahead a little more, but something tells me..."

"Yeah, pass," Taylor laughed. I gave her a smile in response. "Thanks, Quinn. You have no idea how much of a load off my shoulders this is." She took out her phone and began fiddling with it.

"It's actually really, uh, cool to see your growth in all this. It's really clear you actually want to learn and stuff. I'm, uh, proud of you," I borderline stuttered.

Taylor flicked her eyes from her phone back to me and smiled distractedly. "Ha, thanks," she replied. "I'm sorry if I was, like, out of it for some of the lesson."

I stared confusedly at her. "You weren't, it's fine. I didn't notice anything at least."

"That's a relief," she mumbled to herself.

"Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, just... y'know, more boy trouble," she sighed.

"Anything you want to talk about? Like, only if you want of course."

She sighed and put down her phone. "It's just, like, boys being boys again really. I don't wanna get too into it, but like, Cliffnotes version..."

I smiled. Of course she knew Cliffnotes.

"...I was super close to getting with a new guy. We, like, hit it off really well, had a lot to talk about, and holy shit, he looked good. Like, I'm serious. Like, the genetics in his whole fucking family is like... out there, you know? Anyway, so like, we start talking and I think, 'oh my God, I got a chance with this guy,' and then he just has to go and ruin it."

"Ruin it? How so?" I asked, listening intently.

She sighed. "I probably shouldn't tell you that," she mumbled. "Red flags. The kinda shit you were talking about at the lunch table that one time. Just men. Just, fuckin'... men."

I nodded solemnly. "I'm sorry, Taylor. It must be frustrating to have things go so well for you in a certain way and then lose it."

She chuckled bitterly. "Yeah, thanks for spelling it out," she replied.

"Sorry."

"Nah, don't be. That is totally how it is. That's how it is a lot. I appreciate you understanding it, at least. I bet a lot of gifted kids look at me and go, 'oh, she can't complain, she's popular.' But it kinda sucks to be popular and still feel like you're going nowhere, because, like... what am I doing wrong?"

I sat in thought for a second. "I think the question there is flawed."

"Huh?"

"Well, if you and this guy are hitting it off, and he gives you a bunch of red flags, and you step away for that reason, what actions did you even have control over besides choosing to protect yourself and walk away? The independent variable here was the level of respect he gave you. If the dependent variable's result was you walking away, that can't be blamed on you. You and him interacting as you normally do are just, like, a control variable."

Taylor gave me a sarcastic look. "Relatable," she quipped. "I think I understood like half of that." She shook her head. "But anyway, I still feel like I could have acted better or something. I dunno. It keeps happening, so in your words, aren't I the, uh... the, um, the control tester?"

"Common denominator?"

She shrugged. "Probably."

"I think that's just confirmation bias. Honestly, I think a lot of high school guys are just douchebags."

She bit her lip. "Yeah, I sure have seen a fucking lot of that." She nodded to herself for a bit. "Thanks for not being one of them. You could have easily sent my nudes around for clout or some shit."

"The school year - no, my entire high school career is almost finished. Even if I wanted to, what would it get me? A few high fives? You sent that to me knowing what it meant to me, so I dunno, the absolute least I can do is respect the source. Besides, that should be the standard, not a kindness I extend to you. If you give me what I want and ask me to show you common respect, and I don't respect it, I didn't deserve it in the first place. It's not a kindness to respect you, it's what you deserve. I don't care how popular you are."

Taylor smiled toothily with her tongue sticking slightly out between her teeth. It was cute. "Fuck, I wish you were popular, Quinn," she admitted. "I'd like the popular guys to want to listen to, like, people like you."

"Maybe it's not coincidence that I'm unpopular and have these opinions. Maybe popularity corrupts a lot of people," I replied slowly.

"Do you think it got to me yet?" she joked.

I chuckled. "I think it gets to all of us in some ways or another. Unpopularity too. There are a few things I wish could have happened, even just for curiosity's sake."

"Like what?"

"Like just knowing how to talk to people or something. Or having firsthand knowledge of relationships so I don't look like a dork when I get my first girlfriend at age twenty-eight. I bet there were a few times you wished you could be unpopular, just to see what it's like."

"Honestly, it's like, never crossed my mind."

I shrugged. "Fair enough. But it's like this weird segregation. Us even talking like this is a fluke. And you like to date and stuff - have you ever dated anybody unpopular?"

Taylor lowered an eyebrow at me and smiled sarcastically. I rubbed the back of my neck in embarrassment. "I'm not insinuating anything, I swear," I nervously laughed. "Just asking for curiosity's sake."

Taylor rolled her eyes, still smiling slightly. "Alright, no. No, okay? It's not like I avoid it, but it just... never happens."

"I guess it's just the way high school is," I mused. "And again, not trying to insinuate anything. I want to be able to talk about this as your, um... is it cool to say, 'friend?'"

"Quinn, you're such a dork," Taylor grinned. "Of course you can say it."

"Okay. Yeah, as your friend. I'm not trying to win you over or convince you to date me or anything. Sometimes I even feel bad about the picture thing."

"Why? I, like, sent it to you of my own free will."

"Yeah, you did, but... I dunno. I feel like I'm still seeing you sexually or sexualizing you, and the more I learn about your dating history, the more I want to be able to be there as a friend that you trust to not be after you sexually in the long run or anything."

"I've got Morgan for that," Taylor replied. "And the others. You asked, I gave it to you. Honestly? It was kind of exciting."

I felt my throat get drier and my pants get tighter. "Y-yeah?"

"Yeah," Taylor repeated, her voice noticeably getting quieter. "It was just nice to be like, 'hey, you respect women, you should get at least the same that other guys are getting.'"

"I, uh... yeah." I replied flusteredly.

Taylor grinned at me. "See, you're getting flustered now, but, like, you were the one that point-blank asked to see a picture of me."

"I have no idea where that came from, to be honest," I told her breathlessly with a laugh. "I don't think I'd be able to do that again."

"Oh yeah? Would you want to ask again?" she asked, a hint of something in her voice.

"I mean maybe someone down the line, but-"

"I meant me, dummy. Like, asking me something else."

A beat of silence passed between us. "L-like, what do you mean, 'something else?'" I asked nervously.

Taylor sighed softly, shaking her head and biting her lip. "Like... for example... after the whole Ben thing - his name was Ben - I dunno, I'm feeling kind of pent up. Like I want to do something about it. Kinda like, similar to the picture thing, but if you were to ask to, you know, do something with me, you'd get the experience and confidence or whatever, and maybe I might get to feel better about guys. Plus, it... you know... would feel good for me." She was now blushing too. It was very clear that, number one, she was not used to initiating, and number two, something about my boldness last time inspired her. Probably because I just said I was not going to be that bold a second time.

"Are you asking me to h-have sex with you or something?" I asked nervously.

Taylor chuckled in my misunderstanding. "Not that far. I'm just saying, maybe if you got a thrill from it, I wouldn't mind teaching you about, like, foreplay or something... if you wanted."

"So, like the picture, but interactive."

Taylor gave me a 'you weirdo' smile. "Sure, Quinn. Just like that."

"Well I dunno!" I defended myself. "Is this the best place to do it?"

"Have you ever seen my mom come down here?" Taylor asked. "We could, uh, do it here. If you're sure you're comfortable with it."

"I'm comfortable with it. Are you comfortable with it?"

"I offered, didn't I?"

We sat there staring at each other for a little bit, with no one moving, me with a raging hard-on that Taylor couldn't have not known about.. Finally, I huffed and looked at the floor in embarrassment. "So, uh, how does this begin? With you taking your shirt off, or..."

"Yeah, I guess it does," Taylor admitted softly, an uneasy look on her face.

"If you're having second tho-"

"Shhh," Taylor soothed me. "I'm just not used to it being so... matter-of-fact. I'm, uh, also used to a guy doing this for me, I guess." She began taking off her shirt - some high-fashion shirt that didn't cover her shoulders but covered a bit of her arms - and I couldn't help but stare.

She breathed in and out a few times, staring up at the ceiling, before turning pinker and starting to take off her bra. Right before she did, she caught me staring and smiled shyly. "Nothing you haven't seen before, right?" she reminded me.

"I mean, I'm just... really excited." I started off saying that shyly and ended in a nervous laugh. "Is that okay? Am I allowed to say that?"

Taylor gave me another one of her 'you weirdo' smiles. "Yes, you're allowed to say that," she soothed me, before taking off her bra, looking at me nervously the whole time.

"Holy fucking shit," I found myself mumbling aloud. I had no clue what cup size they were (cup sizes were just confusing to me) but I did know that her tits looking big for her frame was not just a phenomenon when she wore clothes. Her breasts looked just as huge in person, bereft of clothing. Despite her nervousness, her small adorable brown nipples stood, erect and hardening, adjusting to the fresh air.

Taylor gave a single nervous snicker. "As good in person?" she asked.

I couldn't take my eyes off of them. My cock throbbed in my pants. "Yeah," I mumbled.

She shook her head. "Men," she remarked humorously. "Okay, so like, the basics are simple. Most girls like having their boobs touched. Most guys go too hard though. You want it to be gentle. Remember it's a human being you're touching. A good rule of thumb is 'caress, don't squeeze.'"

My eyes flew to hers and my mouth dropped. "You want me to... touch them?" I managed to get out.

"Quinn," she replied, almost disappointed with me. "If I just wanted you to look, I could have just sent you another picture." She sat up straight. "Come here."

I didn't move for the first few seconds. Slowly, nervously, inch by inch, I shuffled over to her until I was right in front of her, looking everywhere but in her eyes. Mostly, my eyes fell to her chest. Her amazing chest.

"You didn't teach me math by solving the equations for me," she pointed out, surprisingly wittily. "Go ahead."

My hands were shaking but I stabilized my left one long enough to reach forward and grab one. The feeling was amazing. Soft, light yet firm, full yet malleable. Playful. I made extra sure not to dig my fingers into them, and I found myself almost swirling my hand around it, letting my fingertips dance across its surface. My cock was twitching at this point. Taylor watched my hand, a mixture of smiling playfully at my naivety, and occasionally shuddering slightly.

"What do you think?" she asked after a bit.

"I think you're really beautiful," I told her. "I can see why every guy wants you. I bet guys only want you more after getting to play with these."

"Well, like, I mean... you've only played with the one," she offered quietly.

I took the hint, shakily moving my other hand up and mirroring my left hand's actions. Eventually, I stopped treading and tracing my fingers around the flesh and cupped both breasts in my hands, making sure not to squeeze as much as... what the heck even was caressing? I hoped I was doing it right.

"Like this?" I asked.

"Yeah, you're doing well," she breathed. "It feels, um, good. Kind of, like, shift the power from your palms to your fingertips, like you're kneading bread or something."

My face slightly scrunched in confusion at her words. I took my left hand off of her breast and tried to mimic her advice in the air, watching my left hand. She rolled her eyes and shooed my right hand away. "Watch. Like this," she told me, grabbing her breasts in her hands.

It frankly looked like she was squeezing them, but in a certain way. I nodded and she removed her hands, only to be replaced by mine a second later. I mimicked her actions and listened for her reactions, and they came in the form of her arching her back and breathing a little heavier.

"How about the nipples?" I asked.

She had her eyes closed, but opened them lazily and grinned slyly. "You like 'em?" she asked. "Don't twist them like in porn. They're, like, super sensitive. Just, like, play with them. Lightly roll them between your fingertips. Maybe apply a bit more pressure every so often, but listen for my reactions. Moans mean it's good, me going all 'ahh' is bad. Every girl is different. I'm kinda more sensitive than other girls, so maybe go easy. Easier than you think you should."

"Most guys go harder than you'd prefer, I'm guessing?" I asked.

Her grin got a little bigger. "Maybe," she teased.

I slowly moved my hands inward, still trying to caress her breasts, and moved my thumb and forefinger of both hands towards her nipples. I positioned both nipples between them and, as gently as I could, took both nipples in my hands and began to move my thumbs and forefingers in circular patterns.

"Ooh," I heard Taylor say in the slightest of voices, albeit an impressed one. A look of pride was on her face. "That was actually really good, Quinn. Nice job."

I smiled at the compliment and kept up my efforts as Taylor arched her back and my throbbing got more intense. I think my breathing quickened more rapidly than hers. As I rubbed her nipples, she bit her lip, closed her eyes and slowly ground her hips against the air, clearly enjoying herself as much as I was.

"This is, uh, really good, Taylor. This is... this is really nice," I clumsily stated. I could feel all of my nerves jumping and I felt like my vision was almost going dark, like I was beginning to get tunnel vision. I kept on caressing her breasts and playing with her nipples until the sensations became too much. It was like a spring was being wound down. I was going to shoot a load in my pants if I kept this up for too long.

I took my hands off of Taylor's breasts, breathing heavily. "Hey, so, uh... I'm having such good - such a good time, but I think I just need to stop for now, for a moment..." I panted, practically out of breath, feeling like all of the blood in my entire body was going straight to my dick.

Taylor slowly opened her eyes and looked down in between my legs, as if for the first time. There was no way she couldn't see what was going on, and there was even less of a way she couldn't have guessed. "Oh, are you about to cum in your pants or something?" she asked.

I didn't know if she was going to make fun of me or something. She asked so flatly, so matter-of-fact. It made me hesitate for a second, but I had no reason not to trust her. "Yeah," I admitted. "I-I'm sorry if that's weird or anything."

She smiled a little cockily, as if she was proud of herself. "Huh. That's, uh, kinda hot that I made that happen," she admitted.

I cocked my head and chuckled in acknowledgement of what she said but said nothing myself. My eyes were closed and I was breathing heavily, just trying to regain control of myself. I didn't hear her lean her head next to mine, but I did hear what she whispered into my ear.

"Honestly, my pussy's kinda quivering right now too, Quinn."

A breath left my body on its own. My eyes shot open but I still saw nothing. I felt my spirit leaving my body as I exploded. If I were naked, I would have known it was the largest load I had ever shot in my life - and the feeling went on for way longer too. Breath after breath left me, as if I was laughing in slow motion or something. I went from leaning back on my arms to my arms giving out and just lying on the floor, catching my breath.

Finally, once the feeling was starting to subside, my eyes fluttered open and I just saw Taylor sitting on her knees, a half-smile on her face, watching me. "Oh, uh, sorry," I mumbled.