Mutual Benefits Ch. 06

And she was responding in kind. My efforts spurred her on and soon she was bobbing her mouth up and down on my cock as I kissed, sucked, and licked my way up her slit, from the bottom right up to her clit. I could tell I was getting good at knowing when and how to pleasure her clit, if the moans she was making on my cock were any indication. Here she was, the object of every single one of my classmates' desires, moaning like a slut while taking my whole dick in her mouth. I couldn't stop obsessing over how amazing that was.

I was the first to cum. I wasn't able to warn her with my mouth full of her sex, so I could only moan frantically and hope she got the message. And she had really turned me on, so oh what a message it was.

"Holy shit," I heard her mumble when the fourth or fifth rope shoot out of my cock, her hand replacing her mouth now that I was cumming. "I must have quite an effect on you, huh Quinn?"

She couldn't hear or see it, but I had a smile on my face. That said, I wasn't going to stop. Even with the waves of pleasure surging through me, I was determined to get this beautiful girl off. She was amazing, she was sexy as fuck, and she was riding my face, sucking my cock not ten seconds ago. I definitely wanted to finish her off.

And it was clear she was enjoying the moment. After my cock deflated, she straightened her back and took full advantage of the situation, grinding her pussy on my face and just riding me like I was hers. And suddenly, she was quite the talker.

"Unf, yeah, Quinn, take my fucking pussy, eat me, oh, ohhh..." she moaned, her voice husky and thick with lust. "Yeah, I bet you really like eating my pussy, don't you? You like when I ride your face like this? Do you? You're such a good boy..." she babbled on and on.

Despite cumming so recently, her words were definitely having an effect on me, and soon my cok was bouncing wildly in the air as Taylor's grinds on me got desperate, hungrier, and even more controlling, as if that was possible.

"Oh, fuck yeah Quinn, this is so fucking good..." she panted in a high-pitched voice, her hand reaching behind her to grab the back of my head and grab scrunches of my hair. "Keep going, just like that, don't stop, don't you dare fucking stop, you're gonna make me cum, oh yeah, oh fuck yeah, just like that baby..."

She ground her face against me just like that as she rode out her climax, her juices getting on my face, my tongue eagerly lapping it up and my cock twitching and throbbing. She remained like that, soaking in all of the pleasure and enjoying my tongue, for the next few seconds, before I felt her whole body relax, practically melting on top of me.

The only trouble was, her relaxing shifted some more weight on top of me, and now I genuinely couldn't breathe. At first I made an "mmph" or two, but luckily, after I started frantically slapping her thigh with my hand, she got the jist, with a half-laughed, "Sorry!"

Afterwards, she got off of me and we just... breathed together. I don't know if we ended up doing that for one minute or ten, but it felt really right to just sit there and soak in the moment. Although, speaking of things we did and didn't get up to, we never even ended up opening our textbooks that entire night.

***

Gamestop was a pretty easy job. A lot of it was just busywork. Not hard, just tedious. When it wasn't being an awkward salesperson, it was finding game cases and tidying up and doing inventory. When that was done, the higher-ups made us reorganize the store for seemingly no reason. Suffice it to say, it was every minimum-wage job you could expect.

I actually kind of liked the customers. I could never learn to talk to other human beings by talking to one person that wasn't my brother, especially since more and more of our conversations were starting to revolve around sex and end with our genitalia in each other's mouths. So, all in all, it was likely healthy that I was talking to people that I wasn't ending up... entangled with.

It was easy to tell when someone came in for someone else, or was lost or something. I may not have known much about people, but I knew a gamer from a non-gamer. Sometimes people came in asking about the newest Call of Halo because their son or daughter wanted it, and sometimes confused middle-aged men came in asking about other stores in the strip mall, as if we at Gamestop knew anything about them. But sometimes, things got... stranger.

"...But the coolest looking Pokemon? In all of Gen One, it has to be Tangela," my coworker James finished his point as we stood around talking, late one night during a shift. "Even if it's kinda useless in battle. But hey, he's a clump of vines. They had to start him out with Vine Whip. Shitty move, but, y'know."

I blinked in thought. "Are you sure? I don't think that's right."

James, a tired-looking guy in his late twenties, rolled his eyes. "What part? Are you really gonna Rain Man-style fact check me?"

"I think that when Red and Blue came out, Tangela couldn't learn Vine Whip. It wasn't until Yellow came out that it could learn the move. So it didn't start out with Vine Whip."

James stared at me, dumbfounded. "...Y'know, I thought I was a useless dump of Pokemon info, but you're really giving me a run for my money. Do you just memorize this stuff when you're, I dunno, bored or something?"

I shrugged. "I didn't talk to people much growing up."

"I can tell," James quipped, looking my claims up on his phone. After a few minutes, he stared at me, completely weirded out. "You're a hundred percent correct. How can you possibly know that off the top of your head?"

I shrugged, hearing the door open but wanting to finish the conversation. "Hey, you made the claim. I made a counterclaim. I turned out to be right." I turned lazily to the front, no doubt where the customer had come in and stopped. "Can I help you find anythi-"

Morgan. Morgan was in here. Not only that, it was clear she was lost as all get-out. She was wearing a baggy hoodie, and gingerly removing the hood, covered in rain from the outside. Not only that, but she didn't seem fazed by me. "Hey, Quinn," she acknowledged me.

James looked from her to me. "Classmate or relative?" he asked.

"If anyone in my family looked like that, my mom would kill them," I quipped. I joked to James before about my mom's view on... shall I say, 'race purity.'

"Ha!" A hearty chuckle escaped James' lips, and he turned back to his inventory sheet.

I returned my attention to Morgan and walked out from behind the desk towards her. "So... what are you doing here?" I asked, hoping it didn't come out as impolite as it sounded. "I mean, you don't seem like much of a gamer."

"Oh yeah, I am one," Morgan replied, cool as a cucumber, looking off at some shelf. "...Not. I'm not one. I don't know why I said that. I'm here to pick up something for my brother."

"Oh, well, if he's a gamer, you're in the right place," I replied. "Because, y'know, we sell games here."

"That's probably why they call it Gamestop," Morgan replied quietly, still staring off at the shelf. Why was she not looking at me? Was she seriously still upset at me?

"...Well, if you want me out of your hair, I'll just be behind the desk. But if you need my help finding a specific thing you're looking for, I can help."

"I, uh, don't have anything specific in mind. It's a birthday present," Morgan replied. I could barely hear her at this point.

"Oh, um, okay. Well, you said you're not a gamer, right?"

Morgan mumbled something.

"What was that?"

"I said yeah."

"Okay, well, do you want me to see if I can recommend something?"

"Yeah, that would probably be best."

"Did I do something to piss you off?"

Morgan looked at me for the first time since coming in after I blurted that out. Her face didn't really emote much, but she gave me a puzzled look. "No, why do you ask that?"

"Oh. Um, I dunno," I mumbled, losing confidence given her answer. "It just seemed like... you were quiet and looking away from me, so I was wondering..."

"I was looking at the games they have on display," Morgan explained, pointing off to the shelf.

"Yeah, sorry," I conceded, looking at the shelf.

"And I guess I'm just quiet today," she continued.

"I guess so!" I agreed. Suddenly I was the one looking at the shelf and not her. After a bit, I realized we were both silent and no one was saying anything, or making a specific movement.

I cleared my throat. "So what console does your brother have?"

"A PS4."

"Ahh, good choice. I have one too," I admitted. "Okay, so what kind of stuff is he into?"

"In general or when it comes to video games?" Morgan asked.

"In general," I joked with a flat tone, then immediately followed up with, "I'm joking. Video games."

"Well, he really seems to like sports games... and racing games," Morgan replied slowly, still looking over the same shelf.

"Okay, well, let's see... I assume he has Fifa 16?" I began.

She nodded.

"...And we can't exactly go with Fifa 17, that comes out in September I think, and by then we'll be around half a year late."

"Well, not really. His birthday is in July," Morgan replied, then scrunched her eyes shut immediately.

I thought for a second. "...It's May."

"Yes Quinn, it is," Morgan replied in an almost pained voice.

I stared at her for a bit and my eyes returned to the shelf, where hers were. "Ooookay..." I slowly exhaled. "How about... Uncharted 4? It might be a bit 'old news' in July, but maybe you can give him his gift early. Since you're here early and everything. It's a new release."

"What's it about?" she asked.

"Oh, it's about, um... an adventurer. Like, he goes to -- he's a treasure hunter. The game plays like Tomb Raider, but with more action-adventure elements and somewhat less puzzles."

"So it's like Indiana Jones?" Morgan asked.

Defer. "Hey James, is Uncharted like Indiana Jones?" I turned to ask him.

He was already looking at us. "Kinda. Same macho hero thing going on. It is the fourth in the series, though. If he doesn't have the other thr-"

"I'll take it," Morgan interrupted him.

I shrugged at James. "Sounds confident," I remarked to him, or just out loud to myself. I took the case off the shelf and went behind the desk, looking for the disk. I rung it up, and Morgan paid for it, saying very little all the while. The rain poured on outside the store, the sky dark, the atmosphere in the store an almost audible grey.

"Okay, you're all set. Good to, uh, see you, Morgan," I awkwardly told her.

"Yeah," she agreed quietly. She turned to leave and then turned back, then exhaled. "It was good to see you too, Quinn. Can I ask a really weird favor?"

"Um..." I fumbled. "Yeah, s-sure, go ahead."

Her eyes flickered to the ground, then back at me. For the second time since she arrived, her brown intentful eyes were staring at me. "Can you... not tell Taylor that you saw me here, please?" She clamped her teeth together in response to what she just said. "I mean, like, if anyone else asks, that would be... fine... just not Taylor. Don't ask why. Is that okay?"

The dominant part of my mind was absolutely baffled. This was her favor? Why? What could she have possibly gained from asking this? Why did it matter?! Why would Taylor, of all people, give a shit that her friend was at Gamestop buying a game for her brother's birthday, two months early? Why did Morgan assume I was telling Taylor about the intricacies of my job? What in the hell was going on with that group??

On the other hand, it dawned on me right in that moment that I also had completely forgotten something. Whatever Morgan's goals were, swearing to secrecy was in my best interest too. I had agreed to not talk to Morgan at all, and quite frankly, I fully forgot about it until now. Hell, according to Taylor, Morgan was the one spreading rumors about us, so maybe Morgan was worried about Taylor... getting even using this? Was "hey, my tutor/fuck buddy saw Morgan buying a video game" even drama? Was this drama? Was this what drama was?

"Uh, yeah, you got it," I replied lamely, not understanding anything anymore.

"Thanks," Morgan replied, giving me some version of a small smile, before turning exactly one-eighty degrees and powerwalking out.

As soon as she was outside, James turned to me and shook his head, laughing. "Jeez." He raised his eyebrows at me, as if we were sharing a joke. "Enh?"

"...What?" I asked. "Did I say something wrong?"

"Oh my god, you don't know?" James laughed and turned away, shaking his head. "Rain Man. Fuckin' Rain Man."

"Stop calling me that!" I protested. I didn't even know what that meant. Was the fact it was raining significant? Why the hell did everyone seem to know everything that was going on but me?!

***

"Does 'Rain Man' mean anything to you?" I asked Kevin, approaching the school with him.

"Nah, never seen it," he replied casually. "Hey, you doing well?" he tossed over his shoulder to someone walking past him.

"Oh, so it's a movie?" I asked him.

"Yeah. Two autistic guys go to the casino or something. I dunno. Again, never seen it," Kevin replied.

Oh. So, was James being mean? I was used to the 'haha you have autism' jokes from classmates that didn't like that I knew classroom answers but not social skills, but I always wrote it off as something immature shits that didn't know anyone with autism said because they wanted an excuse to say the r-word without getting in trouble. Using 'autistic' as an insult was something I was expecting to be free from when I finally entered university. Not only did I deserve better, but autistic people deserved better too. I didn't expect James to be like that. But then again, I didn't know what his intent was. Maybe he didn't mean all that. After all, I didn't even know it was a movie until now.

"Y'know," Kevin began dryly, "this is why I'm worried about you. I give you the elevator pitch for a movie and now the look on your face tells me you're thinking of ending your life." He playfully shoved me. "Cat got your tongue?"

"I just got a lot on my mind," I admitted. "Want to do lunch today?"

"Ah, dude, I'd love to, buuuut, I got plans," Kevin gingerly replied. "Tomorrow, though! Enh? Tomorrow." He pointed at me in his confident preppy way and walked away backwards, pointing at me the whole time. I rolled my eyes and made my way to my locker. I was just about done with getting my stuff when I heard a shy "hey," from behind me.

Without moving my body, I turned my head around to see Milo. It was odd seeing him without the group, but I guess at this point I'd seen practically everyone from that group solo, or at least in pairs, so why not.

"Are you saying hey to me?" I asked him. He nodded. "Well, uh, hello, Milo," I replied.

"I was wondering if we could talk about something," he said, shuffling his feet.

"Class starts in ten minutes, but I guess I'm available for lunch," I replied. Thanks, Kevin.

"It won't take that long. But I just wanted to ask you in private, if that's okay," he continued.

Where even was 'private' in a public school? "What's it about, do I get to ask that?" I asked as I turned around.

Credit to Milo, I think he could sense my discomfort, and also sense how fed up I was about my particular situation. "Okay, so, it's about Taylor, and-" I started to protest but he held up a finger. "-it's super quick, possibly just one question, and depending on... stuff... it may contain stuff that I really think you should know."

In American History class, I recalled my teacher, Mr. Anton, talking about World War One. He taught us that World War One happened not because there was a clear-cut good guy and bad guy, but because of the domino effect of treaties and the Powder Keg of Europe and rising tensions between countries. World War One itself was like an entity, a dark fog hanging over Europe, sucking in countries and forcing them to fight and do horrible things for causes the countries themselves didn't believe in. The war itself was the terror, not the people involved, and if anyone got too close, they were not just a victim of the war, they were also now a part of it, keeping the war going.

...Anyway, that's how I felt about high school drama in that moment. I clearly just got too close to Taylor, the Austria-Hungary of our school, and now Serbia was dragging me into this mess too.

"Okay. Sure. Stuff. Why not?" I closed my locker and sighed loudly. "Lead me to wherever is private."

"Thanks, Quinn. I promise, it'll only take a bit." He walked down the hallways, peering down each of them to survey the number of students in each, and I followed, my eyes half-closed, feeling more and more cynical about high school with each passing second.

After about a minute, Milo audibly went, "Aah!" and led us down a hallway with an elevator at the end, reserved for the one or two students at the school who were wheelchair-bound. If the elevator were open to anyone, no doubt students would use it all the time, but it needed a key, so the elevator was rarely used and as a result, the little hallway connecting the elevator to the main hallway was also rarely used.

I walked in and folded my arms. "Okay, so, what would you like to talk to me about?" I asked.

Milo exhaled in nervousness, walking to the end of our little hallway to peer out before walking back in. "Okay, so, I'm not asking this because of any, like, anything related to you. I just know some stuff and wanted to see if you were caught up in it. But, in exchange, I want a promise."

I was doing a lot of promising lately. "What is it?"

"If none of this applies to you, I really need you to forget I ever asked. Seriously. The question is kind of... provocative, and I know we like to be curious and nosy. But I really can't tell you anything you don't already know. And, I can tell, you seem to really roll your eyes at teen drama-" Again my mouth opened in protest, and again he held up a finger, "-and I get that. Honestly, I do. I agree a lot of the time, it sucks. So, if this doesn't apply to you, not asking me anything afterwards will really minimize any drama or fallout or anything like that. Okay?"

I nodded. "I understand what you're saying. I just don't know how I'm supposed to react or how I will react or whatever until you ask me."

Milo sighed. "Yeah, fair enough. That's totally fair enough." He looked around one last time and lowered his voice. "Okay, here we go. Are you currently having sex with Taylor?"

I made a committed effort to keep my face frozen in place, not giving away anything in either direction. I thought about my answer in my mind, and rehearsed it internally a few times. "Did I give the impress-"

"That's not what I'm asking." Milo clarified, interrupting me. "Again, try to believe me, as best as you can. This isn't about you, or anything you did."

"How can you ask me that and tell me with a straight face it has nothing to do with me or anything I did?!" I asked incredulously. In answer, Milo cocked his head slightly, but his expression remained unchanged. He was good at this.

I ran my tongue over my teeth in thought. Something was definitely up. This was time for my overthinking brain to activate and play some 4D chess. Was Milo asking on behalf of Taylor, to test my trust? Was he an agent of Morgan, trying to see if the rumors were true? Or, according to Morgan, becoming true? Was he his own little independent agent? If so, what was his end goal? Was he snooping? Did he know something important to me? Did he know something important to Taylor? Was he protecting her from me, or me from her? Or us from a third party?

Bwaah, too many possibilities. "Hùnzhàng," I muttered aloud, to no one in particular. I knew he was expecting an answer, but I also knew that Taylor was expecting me to be loyal to her, and loyalty meant secrecy. "I don't know what you think is going on, but we're literally just studying," I told Milo in a low voice, trying to sound like a mixture between angry and weirded out. "If you've heard some rumors, let me save you some time: they're not true. Taylor is Taylor, and I'm me. Of course we're not having sex."