Seigmund fred - Being Her Bitch With Benefits (Gilda, unfini

>Today was the day you’ve been working yourself up over for the entirety of your summer vacation.
>The first day of your freshmen year at Canterlot-High.
>Not that you were upset about having to go back to school; school was, for the most part, easy for you.
>The fact of the matter was that you had just skipped an entire grade thanks to your academic performance.
>At first, you were proud of your accomplishment.
>However, this quickly died, thanks to you remembering a conversation you had with your friends, having to do with the hazing that went on at Canterlot-High.
>Basically, the upperclassmen enjoyed preying on the new freshmen in varying, cruel and creative ways.
>May it be sticking wet cat-food in a victim’s gym-shoes
>Or throwing them into a trashcan and rolling them down a hill
>One of your friends had said this was easy to avoid, so long as you hung out with a group of people at lunch since this was the most common time the upperclassmen would strike.
>But you had just skipped an entire grade, so your friends wouldn’t be here until next year.
>Therefore, you had no group to cling to, leaving you vulnerable.
>That’s why walking up to the doors of the school in the moving crowd of students felt as though you were approaching the gates of hell
>’Well, here I go’

>The first few periods were simple enough to live through
>Don’t draw attention to yourself in class
>WALK; don’t run to your classes
>Try not to speak too much or your squeaky voice will draw attention
> Overall, keep a low-profile, as low as you can get.
>Lunch was the only period you were afraid of
>You quickly looked found a packed table and sat down.
>Thankfully, nobody told you to leave, or scooted away from you
>All you really got were a few glances.
>Either they didn’t particularly care you were sitting there, or maybe they knew what you were trying to do.
>It seemed to be working well for the first fifteen minutes.
>That is until you spotted two figures in the corner of your eye.
> You look over to see a short and thick kid standing next to a lanky kid.
>They were just leaning against the wall, whispering to each other and quietly snickering.
>Their painfully obvious sinister expressions and the fact that they looked at you quite a few times let you know they were up to something.
>And whatever it was, it spelled trouble for you.

>You quietly drummed your fingers on your desk as you stared at the clock.
>’one minute until dismissal.’
>You had finished the in-class assignment thirty minutes ago, and from then on, you just stared at the clock, nervously waiting for it to run down.
>As soon as the bell rings and you exit the classroom you’ll be vulnerable until you get to the bus.
>10
>’I can do this…’
>9
>’I can do this…’
>8
>’I can do this…’
>7
>’I can do this…’
>6
>’I can do this…’
>5
>’I can do this…’
>4
>’I can do this…’
>3
>’I can do this…’
>2
>’I can do this…’
>1
>’I CAN DO EET’
BRRRRRRING!
>You hastily you grab your things and power-walk out the door.
>You make it to stairwell just fine, the next challenge is making it to the buses…….
>…..at the other end of the school.
> The best thing you could do was to keep your pace (which was a challenge in itself, since your lung-capacity was shit) and avoid eye contact.
>By the time you saw the busses you were winded.
> But you were close, so you had nothing to worry about, right?
> You stepped outside, your bus twenty feet away.
>’I did it! I did it! I survived my first day of-‘
>”Hey Buuuuddy!”
>You feel someone grab the hanging-loop on your back-pack
>’FUG.’

>You were jerked backwards, your unknown assailant dragging you away from the buses
>“Where’ you off to in such a hurry, pal?”
>His voice was so comically squeaky that you would have burst out laughing if it wasn’t for the fact that you were being dragged to your doom.
>”Yeah! You almost missed your ‘first day fun times’!”
>The second guy was even worse
>You looked back and saw your tormentors, recognizing them as the fat and skinny kids that had been looking at you at lunch.
>”C’mon kid, we’ve got something special planned” the fat one said as his hand moved from your bag to the back of your neck.
> “Har har, yeah; a special treat for almost gettin’ away.”
>the three of you turned the corner of the school, walking into the student parking lot.
>nobody was around, and wouldn’t be for a few more minutes (since the upper classmen liked to chat with their friends before heading home.
>No one was coming to save you.
>”This looks like a good spot” the fat one said, throwing you to the ground.
>as you look back up, you notice the thin one carrying a duffle bag
>…..a duffle bag
>nopenopenopenopenopenopenopenopenopenopenopenopenopenope
>Due to your unwillingness to know what terrors were held in that bag, you tried bolting.
>only to be immediately grabbed
>”I don’t think so, squirt!”
> You feel a sharp pain as he punched you in the gut.
>As you buckled over from the pain you curled into a ball and covered you head with your arms, awaiting the worst.
>But it never came.
> You hear the sound of a fist making contact with a cheek and a yelp of pain
>”what the-“
SMACK
>You look up to identify your rescuer.
>An imposing figure stood above you, their back facing you as they held the bullies by their shirt collars
>”Both of you tripped and fell, GOT IT?” a rough but feminine voice said.
>The two bullies (who, by now, had giant purple marks on their cheeks) bobbed their heads like crazy as the whimpered softly.
>”Good.”
>She released them.
>”Now buzz-off!”
>They obliged her command and ran as though their lives depended on it.
> As they disappeared around the corner, your savior scoffs.
>”Dweebs.”
>She turns around

>She was around six feet tall
>she had rough, tomboyish features
>Her longish hair was white with purple tips
>She had yellow lipstick on and purple eye shadow
>She wore a Denim vest with a black tank-top underneath, and a pair of tight jeans that looked as though it had been left in a pit of wolverines.
>”Hey, earth to dweeb! I said are you O.K.?” she said, putting emphasis on the last few words”
>”Y-yeah, yeah” you hastily reply
>Just as you’d answered, you heard the familiar sound of a bus engine whirling to life, meaning your ride home was leaving.
>to this, you let out an exasperated sigh.
>Your savior notices this.
>”Missed your ride cuz of those limp-dicks, huh?”
>You nod quietly.
>You curse under your breath, as you realize you’ll have to call your mom and tell her what happened.
>the girl suddenly extends her hand, offering to help you up.
>you took her hand (holy shit, her grip was like iron) and stood up, catching a whiff of the cigarette odor on her clothes.
>”C’mon, I’ll give you a ride home.”
>’Wait, what?’
>”C’mon, I ain’t got all day
>after brief consideration, you decide to disregard every “stranger danger “video you sat through, and accept the ride from the big, scary Amazon woman.

>You and the girl make your way across the parking lot.
>You spot her car, as she moved between the parking spots.
>it’s an old, black,banged up camaro.
>You move to the opposite side, allowing her to unlock your side so you can step.
>Your assaulted with the odor of cigarette smoke and old leather as you sit in the driver’s seat, placing your bag on your lap.
>You struggle to find a place to rest your feet since the floor is covered with fast food-bags and empty Marlboro packs
>”Sorry about the mess, ‘been meaning to clean this thing out.”
>She starts up the engine and shifts into reverse.
>”So where do you live, kid?”
>You tell her your address, and she drives out of the campus
>For a few minutes, your quiet, before finally mustering the courage to speak.
>”Thanks for saving me”
>’Saving you’ that sounded a lot less lame in your head.
>But the girl doesn’t seem to mind
>”Those shit-heads are always swinging their dicks around.” she laughs a little “they think they’re hot shit because Sunset Shimmer made them her lackeys; I love any opportunity to knock them down a few pegs.”
>A few more minutes pass and you arrive at your block
>”I’ll drop you of here, don’t want your folks freakin’ out when they see me.” she chuckles.
>”Thanks for the ride”
>You step out of the car
>before you close the door, she stops you
>”Name’s Gilda by the way”
>”A-anonymous.”
>She smiles
>”See ya, kid.
> You shut the door, and she drove away.
>this hadn’t been the kind of first day you’d had in mind, but it was certainly interesting

>The next day, you get to school, a lot less stressed than before.
>You relax a bit more as you begin to realize that (aside from Twiddle Dee and Twiddle Dum from yesterday) your friends stories were just exaggerations
>But what you failed to take into account was the fact, despite Gilda slugging both of them that maybe Sunset Shimmer’s minions would hold a grudge against you.
>Which they did
>And they made it very obvious by giving you the death glare at lunch.
>This also made it obvious that they were going to try and get you again, this time bringing you some place even more secluded.
>And just like that, the fear was back again.
>you started to panic internally.
>Now what? They were going to do things even worse than whatever the duffle-bag of doom had in store for you, and there was no one to save you this time.
>Unless…..
>you began to look around the cafeteria franticly, looking for the one person who could help you
>’Aha!’
>There, at the other end of the cafeteria, was Gilda, paying for her lunch.

>You practically sprang from your seat and bee lined across the cafeteria.
>Once you’re close, you call her name instantly (your being a lot more assertive than usual)
>”H-hey, Gilda…”
> She turns and looks at you, recognizing you instantly .
> “Oh….hey kid….what’s up?” she asks, giving you a werid look.”
>You admitted that what you were about to ask was pathetic, but It was you’re only hope to keep yourself from getting lynched.
>”Um…Look, thanks for helping me out yesterday, but…”
>You look back at Shimmer’s lackeys.
>“…They’re going to try and get me again.”
>The look that came over Gilda’s face was way too easy to read.
>’Crap; now he thinks I’m his mommy.’
>She looked like she was about to go off on you, but she tightly closed her eyes and shook it off.
>”Look kid, I get what you’re going through and all, but I’m actually trying to graduate this year, so I’m gonna be way too busy to be your bodyguard, or whatever. Besides, if I did that for every freshman who can’t defend himself I’d have like three hundred kids to babysit.”
>”Wait, please, I-I-I’ll do anything you ask of me. Anything!”
>She gives you a skeptical look.
>”Really…anything?”
>”It’s better than getting murdered.”
>She looks at the floor for a minute, considering your offer.
>”Alright, I’ll do it.”
>The knot in your stomach instantly undoes itself.
>”BUT, here are my conditions.”
>You freeze, realizing what you had gotten yourself into.
>”Every day, after school, you’re mine for two hours”
>”B-but, how-“
>”You’re an egghead right? Just tell your folks that you’re doing afterschool extra credit. Now, in those two hours you do EVERYTHING I tell you, no what-if’s or but’s. You got it?”
>It seemed like a bit of a stretch, but you firmly nodded.
>”Good.”
>She rummages through her pocket for a moment, before pulling out two dollars.
>She hands them to you
>”Go buy me soda.”

>You went home that day and told your mother the story you had devised during lunch.
>You told her you were going to be studying in the library every day after school.
>She didn’t question it at all. Instead, she seemed proud that you were putting extra work into your schooling, even though you really didn’t need it that much.
>She’s a little too easy to convince some times
>Perks of having a 5.0 GPD you suppose.
>After school the next day, you stood outside your last class, waiting for Gilda to show up
>”Hey, dweeb.”
>You turn and see her walking toward you, a duffle slung over her shoulder.
>”Time for us to head out.”
>she glances at the class number and subject on the wall.
>You see her mouth “advanced calculus” and chuckle, shaking her head
>”Ooooof course”
>she takes the bag off her shoulder.
>”Think fast, kid.”
>With that ambiguous warning, she chucks the bag at you.
>’OH SHI-‘
>You manage to catch the bag, but not without stumbling backward slightly.
>Gilda scoffs and rolls her eyes.
>”What the heck is in here?”
>”It’s my roller-derby equipment.”
>”Oh….”
>You have no idea what that is.
>Gilda laughs at your obvious confusion
>”Don’t worry dweeb, not a lot of people have heard of it either. C’mon, I ain’t got all day.” She motions for you to follow her as she heads in the direction of the stairwell.
>You run to catch up to her, carrying the duffle as well as your tiny body would allow

>The two of you head out to the parking lot.
>As the two of you bee-line to her camaro you notice Shimmers goons (who, by then, you had learned were called Snips and Snails)
>You couldn’t help but snicker at their expressions
>when you get to the car you notice the interior had been cleaned out
>Gilda must have done it after you agreed to be her servant .
>A few minutes after you left campus Gilda broke the ice.
>”So… Advanced calculus, huh?”
>”Y-yeah, I’m In all advanced and AP classes.”
>”What are you some kind of child-protégée?”
>”Not really… but I did skip a grade…”
>Gilda laughs
>”No shit?! Geez, no wonder you’re so short.”
>You meekly nod.
>After another few minutes of silence , she pulls into what looks like one of those fitness centers.
>”Here we are…”

>The two of you walk into the building, heading straight for the locker room.
>You, of course, wait outside for Gilda to change.
>While waiting, you awkwardly look around you in an attempt to pass the time.
>It goes without saying you felt REALLY out of place here.
>What with all the extraordinarily fit people walking by, talking about things you were completely clueless about.
>And you were just this scrawny little AP student sitting on the bench.
>A pilgrim in an unholy land.
>A minute later, Gilda comes out in her gear holding a pair of roller-skates
>All manner of pads strapped on and a helmet
>She wore Bike shorts and a tank-top, and you were pretty sure you could see her sports bra-underneath.
>You quickly realize you’re staring and look away.
>”This way kid”
> You follow her down the hall.
>“Yo! Gilda!”
>You both turn and see a girl right around Gilda’s height, with yellow, slicked back hair.
>”’Sup Dusty.”
>”Ready to get your ass kicked today?” ‘Dusty’ says, her voice dripping with cockiness.
>”We’ll just see about that” Gilda countered with an equal amount of cockiness.
>Just then, ‘Dusty’ notices you behind Gilda, and frowns.
>“Who’s the kid?” she says with a palpable amount of condescension.
>Gilda looks back at
>”A freshmen I saved from getting pulped on the first day. He offered to do anything I ask him to, as long as I keep Sunset Shimmer’s bitch-boys off him.”
>There was a short pause before Dusty burst out laughing
>”Seriously?! Oh God, that’s priceless!”
>She continued to laugh, causing you to shrink a little. Dusty finally finishes, sighing
>”I’ll catch you in the gym Gilda.”
>With that she walked away.
>Gilda turns to you after she’s out of sight.
>”Don’t mind her kid, Lightning Dusty is just a stupid bitch, see always been putting other people down after she got kicked off the soccer team. Don’t let it affect you.”
>The two of you continue on to the gym

> Inside of the gym was a large group of girls in roller skates.
>There was a large loop of cones that wrapped around the gym, serving as a makeshift track.
>Gilda stops you right after you both enter, motioning you to sit on the bleachers.
>”Wait there, if I need you to go refill my water bottle, I expect you to get it for me on the double, got that?”
>You nod, walking over to the bleachers and sitting down, opening up you bag to get to what remnants of homework you hadn’t finished during lunch and study-hall.
>You finished in around ten minutes and went to read.
>But you found that difficult to do with all the skating going on and the loud clattering.
>so you decide to stop and watch Gilda play, maybe figure out the objective of this obscure game.
>After twenty minutes of watching, you started to get some of what was going on, albeit not that much.
>but here’s what you got out of it:
>One of the skaters was trying to get to the front of the group as they skated around the track
>One group was trying to help them get there
>While another was trying to stop them.
>Gilda seemed to be with the latter, and she seemed good at it.
>After a few more minutes, you realized something:
>You were watching a large group of well –toned and even muscular girls pushing, shoving and even slamming into each other.
>And you found it kind of hot…
>After placing your bag on your lap and watching for another twenty minutes, coach blew the whistle, signifying practice was over.
>Gilda approached, covered in sweat.
>’u-u-unf….’
>”Come on kid, we’re heading over to my place.”
>’Whoa, what?’
>”you gonna help me out with any homework I’m not getting.”

>Gilda drove you to the more run down part of town.
>You a little ashamed that you expected that.
> She turned into a neighborhood filled with bungalows.
>Two minutes after driving around she pulled into a driveway
>The house was brown and looked run down like the rest of the houses
>The lawn looked as though it hadn’t been cut in over a month
>”Looks cozy, doesn’t it?” Gilda said sarcastically, as she put the parking brake on and stopped turned the car off.
>As you approached the house, you heard loud music coming from inside.
>Stepping onto the porch, Gilda groans loudly.
>”I told these idiots to clean this shit up!”
>You look at the porch as see the huge amount of beer-bottles next to a few chairs.
> Gilda opens the door, allowing a blast of deafening music to spill out
>You follow Gilda to the living room.
>Sprawled across the couch was a man who looked to be in his early twenties, scruffy hair, wearing a leather jacket.
>Another one about the same age (but was one step above being a dwarf) was moshing-out to the music. He was wearing a t-shirt with two D’s and what looked like a diamond in the middle.
>The music was abruptly cut off when Gilda pick up the cord to the speakers and pulled the plug.
>the one on the couch looked up, seemingly angry
>”Gilda, What the shit?!”
>”One: I fucking told you to clean the beer bottles off the porch. Two: what the hell are you even listening to?”
>”Our new album.” The short one said
>”Oh of course.” Gilda said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
>”Hey, fuck you bitch! Once we get our lucky break, everyone’s gonna know who the Diamond Dogs are!”
“Yeah, if Bowie doesn’t sue your ass first; where’s Fido?”
>”He’s out, getting more food.”
>”And Garble and the others are at a rally.”
>”Whatever, just clean off the porch when you’re done jacking off to your stupid grindcore.”

>The two of you went down the hall
>”The Diamond Dogs?”
>Gilda scoffs.
>”It’s the name of their stupid grindcore band. They seriously think they’re gonna get famous and move out of here soon, but that’s what they said like two years ago.” She laughs.
> She opens a door, revealing a set of stairs that obviously led into the basement.
>As you both begin to walk down the stairs, Gilda turns to you.
>”By the way, uh……. This may seem like a weird question, but are you anything other than white?”
>”…..Uhhhh…”
>It WAS a weird question.
>like…. I don’t know… was your granddad Cuban or something?”
>”N-no, my great-grandparents came here from Germany.”
>”Oh, good; Garble, Clump and Fizzle are all skin-heads.”
>what have you gotten yourself into?
>”It’s pretty ironic, since I’m pretty sure Fizzle’s gay. But anyhow, they won’t bother you at all, in fact they’ll probably like that you’re German.”

>As you’re going down the carpeted hall, a though hits you.
>”Hey…I thought you said were going to your house.”
>Gilda glances back at you.
>”This IS my house, I moved out of my folk’s place three years ago. Figured they were gonna kick me out of the house when I turned Eighteen, so I thought I wouldn’t give them that chance. Now all they have to blame for their problems is each other.” She laughs.
>’So they all live together…. Interesting.’
>”I know they all seem like major cock lords, but in the end we’re all the best of friends.’
>She stops at her door inviting you in.
>”Let’s get to that homework I had to do.”
>You both step inside
>The walls are lined with posters of bands you don’t recognize
>Like you would ever recognize them
>There’s shelf full of CDs and a TV with bunny-ears sitting on top
>A mattress was tucked into the corner
>Aside from that there wasn’t much else.
>”Make yourself at home kid.” Gilda says as she places her bag on the mattress
>You place your bag at the door, and sit down on the floor.
>”What do you need help with?” you ask
>Gilda pulls a textbook out of her bag and holds it up
>”History”
>’why is it always history’

>You spend ten minutes talking to her about the subject before she interrupts you.
>”What I’m having trouble with is remembering all this shit. I mean seriously, how the hell do you do it?
>you pause for a moment, thinking of a good way to help.
>”Well, the thing is: text books usually give you the abridged version of the events and figures, which makes it harder to remember; if you have more details about the event, you’ll remember it better.”
>”Sooooo… more information is easier to remember?” she looks at you skeptically.
>” Take this for example: what I do when I’m having trouble with some historical figures is that I look up some obscure facts about them, quirky stuff. Like this: did you know that historians believe that George Washington had an erectile-dysfunction?”
>It takes a second for Gilda to process what you’d said. She starts to laugh.
>”Wait, seriously!?”
>”Yup. Also, Thomas Jefferson had a thing for black women, Andrew Jackson beat his would-be assassin half to death with his cane and William Henry Harrison died of pneumonia twenty days after he was sworn in because he delivered a three hour inaugural-address in a snowstorm without a coat to prove how tough he was.”
>Gilda was laughing uncontrollably at this point, which meant you were making progress.
>After about thirty minutes on the revolutionary war, she had gained a good grasp on the subject, likely better than she had ever had in her life.
>After that Gilda took you home.
>As you walked to the door of your house, you think to yourself
>’I can get used to this.’
Sex won’t be here for a while, but be patient, I promise to make it good.

>This was your everyday afterschool schedule for the past two months.
>Going to Gilda’s roller-derby practices (you couldn’t find a way to go to one of her games, as much as you’d like to)
>Going over to her house to help her with her grades
>Goose-stepping around Garble and his buddies, to avoid their questions when you could (it was thanks to them that you were tempted to do some research on your grandfather, leading you to find out that not only was he part of the Waffen SS, but he also received an Iron Cross, which made you mildly uncomfortable).
>And repeat
>Lately, Gilda has been needing less and less help with homework, so all you’d do was hang out with her and watch TV with the rest of her housemates.
>You started to gain some street smarts
>Gilda even introduced you to a couple bands
>The guys seemed to start liking you too.
>And like that, you had a new set of friends.
>Life was good
>But then, something came up that caused complications
>just last week, Gilda was bringing you home, like every other day.
>Right before you got out of the car, Gilda ruffled your hair and said:
>” You’re a good kid, Anon.”
>As she drove off, you felt a strange feeling in your gut, and face felt hot….
>’………….Oh no……….’
>You’d fallen for her;
>You’d fallen for her hard.

>This was a huge problem.
>Not just the fact that she was six years older than you were
>But also that, face it, what kind of chance did you even have with her?
>She was a tough, confident, athletic girl.
>And you were just a scrawny little awkward kid who was too smart for his own good.
>What could she possibly see in YOU?
> This whole “newfound love” for Gilda made you slightly uncomfortable whenever you where around her, but she didn’t really seem to notice.
>But things got even worse when your mother announced she was going on a weeklong business trip.
>And “since you’re mature enough I’ll leave the house to you for the week, you’re the man of the house.”
>Normally , she hired somebody to stay with you.
>Not this time, you guess.
>And now you are obligated to tell Gilda about this.
>And you really hope she doesn’t respond the way you think she does.
>On the day your mother leaves you meet up with Gilda after school.
>”Hey kid, ready to go?”
>”Yeah”
>As you walk to the stairwell, you wring out what courage you have in your gut, and speak up.
>”Hey, Gilda?”
>”What’s up, kid?”
>you Inhale a bit, and spill it.
>”My mom went out of town today, she left the house to me.”
>Gilda turns, eyes widened, a big grin on her face
>”Really?!”
>Here it comes
>”In that case…”
>PLSNOPLSNOPLSNOPLSNO
>”Why don’t you crash at my place for the week, huh?”
>”FUCK.”

>That day’s roller-derby practice seemed like the shortest ever; so did the car ride.
>And the walk up to the front door of Gilda’s place was over in a second
>’I thought that time flew by when you’re having fun, Not when you’re filled with so much anxiety you feel like you’re going to die.
>The two of you enter the living room, quickly spotting Rover lying across the couch, sound asleep.
>But not for very long.
>Gilda walks over to the couch, a somewhat devious look on her face
>”Hey, rise and shine dickhead.” Gilda says as she delivers a quick jab to his gut with her finger.
>”ACK!” Rover blurted as he jerked awake, flailing off the couch and hitting his head in the process.
>Rover sat there for a good five seconds, rubbing his head, before looking up at Gilda.
>”WHAT?!”
>Gilda points to you.
>”Anon’s mom is out of town for the week”
>Rover gets this look on his face, as if he was wondering why the hell he should even care.
>”Yeah, and?”
>”So… I was thinking that maybe we could get a couple of our friends over, maybe go a little crazy?”
>Rover’s expression shifts to confusion.
>”Wait, really? Tonight? But it’s like…….”
>The look on his face made it look like he was trying to solve the most complex puzzle ever devised
>”…………..it’s Wednesday Right?”
>Gilda scoffs.
>”I have a B,C average, dude; I can afford to miss one measly day. You guys got nothing going on, so where's the problem?”
>”If you say so…”
>Rover, pulls out his cellphone, calling someone.
>"Yo, spot."
>You hear a soft 'yeah' on the other end
>"Get some booze and a shit load of chips, we're lettin' lose tonight."

>Gilda headed out to work a few minutes later.
>You began helping Rover, by moving all the loose objects and small furniture into the basement.
>This raised some questions.
>”Hey, Rover?”
>”Yeah, kid?”
>”Who exactly is invited over?”
>Rover laughs a little.
>”I think what you should be asking is: ‘who’s coming over’. In that case, whoever we invite is going to bring some of their own friends over, and then those friends will bring whoever they feel like.”
>”So is that why we’re moving all this to the basement?”
>”Well…. yeah, that and since people are gonna be getting high and shit-faced, so I don’t want people breaking shit.”
>The two of you finish with the loose-objects and get to work on the small furniture, starting with the coffee-table.
>”The basement locks from the outside, so nobody is gonna be able to get into the basement and see Garble and the boys’ rooms, unless some drunk-idiot is trying to find the bathroom and breaks the door down…” Rover worries
>You hear the front door open and the sound of a couple of heavy footsteps.
>You follow Rover into the front room, finding Garble, Fizzle and Clump standing in a group, wearing their usual custom made white-pride t-shirts or leather-jackets covered in replica Waffen medals; their armbands were probably tucked away in their pockets. They were looking around, confused at all the missing furniture.

>”The hell is going on here?” Garble pipes up.
>’We’re partying tonight; all the breakable stuff is going in the basement.”
>”Oh, sweet!”
>”And before anyone gets here, take that white-power shit off and cover those tats! I can’t have you shit-heads starting fights again!”
>They all groan and give a unanimous: “whatever” and began helping with the furniture
>The three of them notice you. Standing in the hall
>”Hey kid” Fizzle waved
>”Hi.”
>You’ve grown a lot more comfortable being around them, even going as far as listening to them talk about their beliefs(you could write a paper about what you’d learned)
>You walk follow rover into the basement.
>”Hey, are they gonna have any trouble with….certain people coming here?”
>Rover waves off your question
>”Put a few beers in them and they’ll stop giving a shit

>The five of you spend the next twenty minutes moving stuff around
>four hours after finishing up and Spot arriving with what had to be seventy pounds of beer, people started showing up.
>You didn’t really feel comfortable being around people that age you didn’t even know, so you asked Rover to let you into the basement so you could hide out there until everyone left.
>You figured that people would just get weirded-out by a thirteen-year-old being there.
>Besides, what were you even going to do; just sit around?
>you situated yourself in Gilda’s room, turning on the TV and trying to find something good on want little channels .
>As another hour passed, people started getting louder, until the music was turned up, drowning them out.
>It was ten minutes after nine when you heard the door at the top of the stairs open.
>”Anon? You down here?”
>Gilda
>the butterflies come back to have a rave in your stomach.
>”Yeah…”you say, poking you head out the door of her room.
>Gilda is five feet away, looking at you with a humored expression on her.
>”C’mon up, you can’t just hide down here all night, dude.” She beckons.
>”B-but….”
>Gilda walks closer to you and takes you by the arm.
>”I organized this whole this whole thing so you learn to chill out.”
>B-but all people are doing is drinking; what am I supposed to do?”
>Gilda scoffs and laughs a little.
>”Geez Anon, sometimes I forget how white you are.”
>Well, you ARE ninety percent German.
>…
>Oh god, some of Garble is starting to rub off on you.
>”Drinking isn’t all you have to do. Try hanging out with people. I mean, there’s probably a couple of kids mixed in from the high school down the block. Now c’mon! Loosen up a bit.
>You want to protest, but being that you’re too spineless, you let the Amazon lady drag you up the stairs.

>Gilda opens the door, the once muffled music becoming blaringly loud.
>All manner of people had crowded the house.
>Upper classmen from other schools
>college students
>Even some random people who probably saw the all the cars parked on the street and decided to invite themselves.
>Gilda brings you into the living room, sitting you down on the surprisingly unoccupied couch.
>” You’re always studying, Anon. You really need to stop worrying so much about your schooling.”
>”B-but, I-“
>”Kid, you’ve got a 5.0 GPA; I didn’t even think that was possible. If it’s really that high, you’re working yourself too hard. You’re still a kid, and you’re only a kid once, right?”
>”Y-yeah…”
>’Well this is new…’
>She’s giving you a pep-talk. Gilda wasn’t really the type of person to give people personal advice. But at any rate, she’s really doing a good job of giving compelling advice.

>”Look, you remember hearing about that girl in her sophomore-year, who’s like, obsessed books? Oh, what’s her name again……………purple smart?”
>”Twilight….Sparkle.”
>”Whatever. You remember how she was cramming for midterms last year, and how she went three days without sleep and hid out inside the library overnight?”
>”They found her hiding in a fort she made out of books.”
>”Exactly; is that who you want to be? Some neurotic weirdo with no grip on their life…….. I didn’t use that word wrong, did I?”
>”No, that’s a pretty accurate description…”
>’Oh, good….. Well? Is it?”
>”………..No.”
>And you meant it too.
>”Good!” Gilda says enthusiastically, reaching over and ruffling your hair.
>The butterflies intensify
>”Wait, here.”
>She gets up off the couch and walks into the kitchen.
>A minute later, she comes back with a plastic cup in her hand.
>”I’m not sure what those health classes have drilled into you, but I’m sure a quarter-cup of beer won’t turn you into a crack-head.”
>She sits down, handing you the cup.
>Hesitantly, you take it from her.
>You briefly look at the brown liquid, and give it a test smell.
>Gilda laughs
>”It’s just cruddy beer, dude. It’s not gonna kill you.”
>To avoid looking like a pansy, you bring it to your lips and tilt your head back, allowing a small amount of the drink to pour into your mouth.
>It wasn’t bad like you thought it would be; still, it tasted kind of iffy to you.
>”Don’t like it, huh?”
>You chuckle a little, shaking your head.
“Well, that ain’t surprising. If you ask me, beer’s no different from piss; a real man takes rum. But I’m not itching to get you drunk.”
>She stands up.
>”I’ll see you later, Anon, Got some friend’s I need catching up with. Do me a favor and enjoy yourself, kay?”
She walks off
>”TRY MEETING A GIRL OR SOMETHING.” She calls from the other end of the room.
>’goddamnit.’

>Well at least you can say this: It was actually kind of fun.
>Even though you really weren’t the best conversationalist, the party was still enjoyable.
>When Diamond Dogs songs weren’t playing, a couple of your favorite bands played.
>You innocently eavesdropped on other peoples conversations, listening to their hilarious stories
>At one point, some guy who’d dropped acid came into the living room with a towel wrapped around his neck, screaming: “I AM THE LIZARD QUEEEEEEEEN! BOW BEFORE ME, INSECTS!” and that was hilarious for everyone.
>All in all, you were really glad you listened to Gilda.
>Still, you couldn’t help do feel uneasy about the crush you have on her.
>How exactly were you going to resolve this?
>You can’t go to her about it; she’d freak out.
>You couldn’t go to a counselor; they might misinterpret your problem and go after Gilda.
>You for damned sure weren’t going to you mother about it either.
>What could you-
>”Hey, kid”
>Your thoughts were interrupted by a girl calling to you.
>You turn to see a girl looking at you, a brownie-pan in her hand.
>”Want a brownie?” she says, holding a slice up.
>”Sure” you say without hesitating.
>She tosses it to you.
>Even with your terrible hand-to-eye coordination you catch it.
> You don’t hesitate to take a small bite of the corner.
>However, you don’t take another, thanks to the brownie tasting...............odd.
>So, you continue to hang out and listen to music.
>Ten minutes later, you begin to feel……weird.

>”Uuuuuuugh………”
>indigestion is NOT fun.
>After Rover explained that the brownie you took a bite of had Marijuana baked into it, he brought you into the basement, telling you to get some sleep (for some odd reason, Fido Is really good with kids).
>an hour later, the worst of your high wore off, and was replaced with the pain of what felt like stomach acid rising into your esophagus.
>It’s what you get for eating so many chips.
>Nothing you can really do but wait for it to settle.
BAM
>you hear the upstairs door swing open and hit the wall.
>”Aaaaaaaaaaaay, Aaaaa-non!” A slurred voice calls
>Its Gilda
> You get up off the make-shift bedding and head for the door to Gilda’s room.
>You poke your head out the door and see Gilda standing at the other end of the hallway, a giant grin plastered on her face.
>”There you are!” she slurs, giggling a bit.
>”Somebody gave me a weed-brownie, and-“
>”I know, dude, but forget about that; c’mere!” she beckons with a bottle of rum in her hand.
>ooookay…?
>You walk up to her as she maintained the same expression.
>”What is-“
>You’re interrupted when she suddenly puts her hand on the back of your head….and kisses you.
>…On the lips
>In fact her tongue was now exploring your mouth, allowing you to taste the fiery alcohol on her breath.
>She lets out a quiet hum as she continued to passionately kiss you.
>You’re so shocked, and at the same time, caught up in the kiss you don’t notice that she’s pinned you against the wall.
>after fifteen seconds she breaks the piss with a loud pop.
>She looks at you with the same expression as before.
>”Heheheh, ‘night kid.”
>And with that, she walked back up the stairs.
>Your face red as a tomato, you turn around and walk back to the room and go to sleep

>As the sun hits your face, you begin to blink awake.
>You sit up looking, around the room.
> You don’t see Gilda…
>You at first assume she’s already gone up for breakfast.
>That is, until the events of last night came flooding back to you
>The party.
>Gilda’s pep-talk.
>You getting drugged by a girl with brownies.
>Fido taking you to bed.
>the indigestion
>And Gilda kissing you.
>You look over at the clock.
>9:15 AM
>school started fifteen minutes ago.
>”Crud” You plainly state as get out of bed, grabbing your things and heading up stairs.
> You make your way into the living room, glancing at Rover, who was passed out on the couch.
>You check the kitchen.
>No Gilda.
>You check the den.
>No Gilda.
>You check the bathrooms.
>No Gilda.
>Finally, you go to the front window, only to find that Gilda’s car was gone.
>Did she leave you on purpose?

>You go into the living room, walk up to Rover, and give him a light tap on the shoulder.
>”ZZZ-hrk!”
>Clutching his head (he was obviously hung-over) he looks up at you.
>”Hey, whu-”
>He looks around, noticing position of the sun.
>”Ain’t you ‘sposed to be in school kid?” he asks.
>”Yeah, but Gilda…left without me.”
>It dawned on you that she might have remembered kissing you last night.
>”Do you think you could give me a ride over there?”
>Rover cringes, grabbing the bridge of his nose.
>”Argh, I ain’t feelin’ too good kid, errrr…”
>He looks in the direction of the kitchen.
>”Spot, you in there?” he calls, cringing again, probably due to the fact that, to him, his own voice sounded like a rusty chainsaw.
>A second later, Spot comes out of the kitchen, a pop-tart in his hand.
>”What?” he asks plainly.
>”Spot, you think you can drive Anon here to school; I’m too hung over for that shit.”
>”Sure, I’ll be ready in a minute.” He says, walking toward the den (which, due to a lack of space, everyone kept their clothes).
>He comes back a minute later, fully clothed and holding the keys in his hand.
>”C’mon kid, let’s go.”

>Spot brings you to school in the band’s van.
>You manage to make it to your second period class.
>You go through the usual motions of the next three classes, waiting for your-lunch period.
>Once lunch rolls around, you eagerly wait for Gilda to show up.
>But she never comes.
>She probably anticipated you asking one of the guys to take you to school.
>So the only thing for you to do was to mope until lunch was over.
>As your last class was ending, you began thinking about what you were going to do.
>You would either go to your bus and give Gilda some time to calm down; although there was a chance she would never speak to again from fear of you being angry at her for what she did.
>Or you could try to beat her to her car, hopefully convincing her that you weren’t angry, and have the two of you talk about what happened.
>…
>’Fuck it, I should at least try.’
>As soon as the bell rang, you bolted for the stairwell.
>You knew where Gilda’s last class was, and if you ran, you would beat hear to the car by a minute-and-a-half.
>You do just that and make it to the parking lot on time; exhausted, but on time.
>You casually walked toward Gilda’s Camaro, considering how you were going to talk it out with her.
>”Well, well, well!”
> Two hands seize your arms.
>”Looks like Mama Bear Ain’t here to protect her little baby!”
>*Sigh*
>’Goddamnit, how could you have forgotten?’

>You are Gilda
>’I can’t believe myself. Like, seriously, what the fuck is wrong with me?! One moment I’m totally in control, half a bottle of rum later, I’m forcing my tongue down some poor kid’s throat!’
>You remember everything that happened last night.
>You arriving at the party.
>Giving Anon a talking-to.
>Telling Anon to find a girlfriend, so, on the off chance he did find one, it’d give you the kick in the pants to stop obsessing over him.
>Kicking the little bitch who gave Anon a weed-brownie out of the house.
>drinking half a bottle of rum.
> Deciding it’d be a good idea to give Anon a “goodnight kiss” in your drunken state.
>Going back upstairs to drink a bit more.
>-Scene missing-
>Waking up this morning to find yourself spooning Anon.
>And leaving the house in a panicked rush.
>And now you were being a coward by planning on never speaking to the poor kid again.
>But really, what the hell were you supposed to do?
>You couldn’t tell the boys, you’d be lucky if all they did was kick you out of the house.
>You weren’t about to go to Anon himself and tell him about how you’ve been having dirty thoughts about him for a month; like that would fix anything.
>And if you go to anybody else, you’ll be sitting in prison before you know it
>The only solution you could think of was for you to wait for things to cool down; it was stupid, sure, but it was the least stupid thing you could think of.
>Regardless, you were still nervous about this entire situation.
>So much so, that you lost your appetite and skipped out on lunch.
>Finally, The day ended, and you headed straight for the parking lot.
>So now, you have nothing to worry about… other than the possibility that anon is upset enough to tell his mother about this whole thing.
>’God, I fucked up’

>Just then, you spot something in the corner of your eye.
>it’s those two idiots, Snips and Snails.
>But what where they-
>You notice somebody in between them.
>it’s hard to see at first, since they seemed to be moving around randomly
>But as soon as they’re still again, you immediately recognize who it is.
>It was Anon.
>They were beating him.
>Snails had him in a full-nelson hold, while Snips kicked and punched him in the stomach.
>You stand there for a second, staring wide eyed at the scene.
>Your shock is suddenly and quickly overcome with simmering, teeth-gritting rage.
>As if on instinct, you take off into a sprint toward them, dodging and even vaulting over cars, with only one thing on your mind:
>BREAK. SHITHEADS. OVER. KNEE.
>When you were around five meters away, Snips notices you, his expression skewing into an “OH FUCK” like face.
>His expression didn’t go unnoticed by Snails.
>Thanks to this, Snips looked behind him to see what he was gawking at.
>Good for you, bad for him.
>He had no time to even form an expression of fear before your fist makes contact with his face.
>You strike him directly on his left cheek.
>not only does he release Anon, his body flew off to the left, hitting his head on the hood of a car as he went down.
>You move past anon toward Snips.
>He sees you move toward him after looking back up from Snail’s sprawled out body.
>He starts to back away from you in a desperate attempt to get away, but you were already close enough to him.
>You grab him by the collar of his coat, rear your fist, and plant it in his face.
>He falls flat on his ass, clutching his nose.
>You weren’t sure if it was to get a point across, or you being under the influence of white-hot rage, but you place your heel on his groin.
>This causes him to freeze as if he’d turned to stone.

>Your teeth clenched as you began to speak
>”YOU. TRIPPED-“
>CRUSH
>”AND. YOU. FELL.”
>Snips violently nods, tears flying off his face.
>”GOOD.”
>You take your foot off his children.
>”NOW GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE, BEFORE I SKIN YOU ALIVE.”
>He staggered to his feet, picking up snail’s unconscious body (not a hard task, considering he couldn’t be over one hundred and fifteen pounds) and ran as though his life depended on it.
>As you watched him hobble away, you feel your body begin to relax, and your breathing became less heavy.
>Whilst you gradually calm down, you remember what had set you off in the first place.

>You don’t finish your sentence, as, within a second, Anon springs to his feet and wraps his arms around your torso.
>”H-hey! What are-“
>You hear his breath catch and see his shoulders shake.
>He’s… crying.
>You’re confused at first
>Then you consider the anomaly of him being in the parking lot in the first place
>The answer hit you like a ton of bricks
>He was looking for you.
>Not out of anger from what had happened last night.
>But out of concern of you just leaving him.
>He wasn’t angry at all
> If anything, he was scared that you were avoiding him, which pained you, considering that was exactly what you were doing.
>He didn’t care that you had practically molested him last.
>All he really did care about was making sure you were ok.
>But wait…does that mean that he shares your affection?
>’Goddamnit! Stupid brain! More important things to worry about right now!’
>You stop mucking about in your own head and return your attention to Anon.
>He’s still embracing you tightly, resting his head against your chest while he wept softly.
>As much as it hurt to see him in this state, it showed you that, despite being so smart, mature and well spoken, he was still just a frail little kid that depended on you not to get beat up.
>And you failed to keep that from happening, thanks to your own selfish cowardice.
>You gently wrap your arms around him.
>”H-hey, c’mon on now, stop that… guys ain’t ‘sposed to cry”
> ‘And damnit, if you don’t stop, I’ll start too.’
>You move one of your hands up to his head, gently stroking his hair, and you rest your cheek on his head.
>Your voice softens from its usual roughness
>’Shhhhhhhh… they won’t hurt you ever again, I promise.’
>Carefully, you lead him over to the car

>Pulling up to the house, you step out of the car and walk around the front to help anon out of the back.
> Snips and Snails had kicked Anon’s calves, making it painful for him to walk.
>little bastards
>You open the door on Anon’s side.
> He’d moved to an upright position.
> You noticed his cheek had swelled up a bit
>You look away from it, a pang of guilt hitting you.
>You wrap your arm around Anon’s back, acting as a crutch to help him.
>he hobbles forward a few steps, only to buckle slightly from the pain
>You figure he’s going to be sore for a while, so you see no sense in prolonging his pain
>”hold still.” You say in a reassuring tone.
>You wrap your arm around his thighs, your other arm still around his shoulder, hoisting him up.
>He’s surprised at first, but quickly relaxed and looked away, murmuring a thank you.
> You literally have no trouble carrying him at all thanks to him being under a hundred pounds.
>You approach the door, struggling with the handle before the door popped open
>Surprisingly, it’s quiet
>At this time of day, the boys would be blasting music
>you step into the vacant living room
>The smell of pizza leads you to come to the conclusion that the guys were in the kitchen
>”Hey guys, I’m gonna need some help in here!” you call as you gently sent anon on the couch.
>Unsurprisingly, only Fido came out to help
>He’d probably thought you needed some help with heavy lifting.
>His expression changed when he saw anon on the couch, grimacing in pain.
>”W-what happened?” he asked as he rushed over
>”He got beat up at school.” You say at a volume you knew the rest of the guys could hear.

>Sure enough the guys heard you
>for a few seconds, the sound chairs being scooted out for under the kitchen table was the only sound that could be heard
>It wasn’t long before the guys had flooded out of the kitchen and into the living room
>”Shit kid, are you ok?!”
>”Damn they got him bad!”
>”Who did this to him?” Fido asked
>”It, those two juniors I told you about.” You say, your hand on your forehead
>”Did you…”
>”Yeah, yeah… I gave the skinny one a concussion, and I’m pretty sure the fat one’s testicles have receded.” You say in a stressed tone.
>Fido began lightly pressing at anon’s sides, working his way up.
>”I don’t feel any broken ribs”
>’Oh thank God’
>Spot pipes up suddenly.
>”I’ve got some vicodin for the pain…”
>Fido is immediately against this.
>”NO! SPOT! We are NOT about to give a kid prescription strength-“
>His expression slowy changed, his eyes closing as his pinched the bridge of his nose.
> “Spot… where did you get the vicodin…?” he deadpanned.
>Spot is quiet for a moment.
>”I… I know a guy, alright?”
>”Frank?”
>”Frank.” Spot hung his head.
>” There’s a raw steak in the fridge; that should be good for his cheek.” Garble suggested.
>” Hasn’t that thing been in there for months?” Rover asked.
>” When did we have steaks?” Clump asked, confused
>”I’ll go check”
>As spot went into the kitchen, you turn around and head for the hallway.
>” I’m gonna lie down for a while, if you need any help let me know.”
>Right as you open the door to the basement, you hear Spot yell in the kitchen.
>”AGH! SHIT! YEP, THIS THING WENT SOUTH ALRIGHT!”
>You step down into the basement, head to your room and close the door
>Instead of lying down like you said you would, you sit down on your mattress.
>For a moment, you’re quiet.
>Then, you let out the tears you’d been holding back.

You are Anonymous
>After resting on the couch, waiting for the pain to recede, you decided to address the major issue and head down into the basement.
>you make you way down the stairs growing increasingly nervous about the conversation you were about to have.
>Slowly you approach the door.
>For a few seconds, you consider turning around and heading back up the stairs.
>But you shake your head.
>You had to do this.
>You bring up your hand and gently wrap on the door.
>”I-it’s open.”
>Gilda’s voice is a little shaky.
>You slowly open the door.
>Gilda is sitting on her bed, legs folded.
>She lifts up her head as you enter; an expression you can’t quite read.
>It’s something between concern and grief
>Tentatively, you take a few steps toward her.
>”Gilda…”
>You never finish your sentence as she stands up and wraps her arms around you
>”I’m so sorry,Anon.” she says, her voice a little more than a whisper
>”G-Gilda, It’s not your-“
>”Bullshit it isn’t. I shouldn’t have just left you here like an idiot.” She says
>”But I don’t blame you for what happened.”
>”’Doesn’t matter, I shouldn’t have left you; I shouldn’t have lost control last night. I fucked up, no question about it. I… Fuck.”
>She lets go of you and turns away, placing her hands on her head.
>She seemed like she was trying her hardest to stay calm about this.
>She turns back to you.
>”I’m going for a drive…”
>She goes to move past you.
>However, you step out in front of her.
>”I’m going with you.”
>She lets out an exasperated sigh.
>”Look kid, I really-“
>You don’t let her finish.
>”No, Gilda. We need to talk about…..”
>You pause for a second, your meek nature catching up to you as you try to say what you want to say.
>”… about us.”
>Her eyes widen as she realizes what you’re referring to.
>she begins to stutter slightly
>”A-a-a-alright…”

>Gilda tells you she’d be more comfortable taking you to a secluded place for you two to have you talk.
>Ergo, the car ride was uncomfortably silent
>While you sat in the passenger seat, staring out the window, you quietly think to yourself
>How are you going to address this in a way that won’t end up backfiring?
> What exactly are you going to say?
>’Yeah, I’ve totally fallen head over heels for you and I think we should totally get together, even though in the very likely scenario that we’re caught you’ll go to prison and your life will be ruined.’
> All in all, you’re having a hard time seeing this end with you or Gilda being happy.
>Suddenly, Gilda makes a sharp left turn.
>You look up to see that she had turned off the paved-road onto a wooded area.
>For another five minutes, she drives up the dirt road, the car occasionally rocking around from the uneven terrain of the road’s surface.
>she begins to slow down a bit.
>Curious, you start looking around.
>You spot something off to the left.
>It’s an old RV.
>It looks kind of rusty, and seems like it hasn’t been driven in a long time, judging by all the leaves and fallen branches on it.
>There’ also a small generator a few feet away from it.
>The car stops and Gilda turns the key, shutting off the motor.
>”Here’s our stop.” Gilda says, trying to lighten the situation, her uneasy tone tarnishing that attempt.
>The two for you step out of the car and start to walk to the RV.
>Your curiosity overpowering you, you turn to Gilda.
>”I didn’t know you had an RV…”
>Gilda chuckles a little.
>”Technically, it’s my uncle’s. He told me I could use it whenever I needed some alone time or a place to crash, just so long as he wasn’t using it. Since he’s kind of on the run from the law right now, it’s pretty much whenever I feel like it.”

>She steps up to the cinder block, serving as the step up to the RV, putting a key in the lock and opening the door.
>You both step inside.
>The first thing you notice is the faint smell of cigarettes.
>There’s a couch on the left side; a dining table on the other.
> A short hallway leads to a bedroom.
>There’s also a tiny kitchen covered in dust on right side.
>The place is cozy looking to say the least.
>Gilda sits down on the couch inviting you to do the same.
>As you sit down, Gilda lets out a sigh
>”Well… I guess we should get started.”
>…
>As you expected, nothing but awkward silence.
>It couldn’t be helped, given the situation.
>For a few moments, neither of you say anything.
>Reluctantly, you decide to take the initiative.
>”So… how long have you known?”
>Gilda stirs slightly in her seat, but still doesn’t look at you.
>”About a month.”
>Holy shit, she’s had a crush on you way longer than you have!
>she laughs.
>”We were watching that rerun of Judge Dredd.”
>You remember that day.
>”What about you?”
>” A week-and-a-half.”
>You turn toward her.
>”You were dropping me off and…”
>You turn a little red.
>”… You ran your hand through my hair.”
>Gilda giggles a little at your embarrassment.
>the two of you talk for a few more minutes, recalling times when you made each other uncomfortable by accident, getting short laughs out of both of you.

>This carries on until you decide to ask a question
>”err, Gilda…?”
>”Hm?”
>”I’ve been wondering… why me?”
>Gilda is visibly confused
>”I mean, why me of all people? I’m just a kid, not to mention I’m-“
>You’re cut off when Gilda gives you a swift punch in the arm.
>”OW! H-hey!”
>”Seriously Anon?! Don’t give me that crap!”
>”whu-“
>”I don’t care that your just a kid, or that you’re a total dork.”
>…Uhhhh.
>”You’re a bright kid, Anon; at the same time you respect the people around you and don’t have that high-and mighty attitude. As of right now, you’ve got life by the balls. You don’t have retarded pipedreams that you constantly go on about. You’re a great listener, and, if how you handle garble and the boy’s questions is anything to go off of, you’re really patient.”

>Your doubts begin to melt away.
>she places her hand on your shoulder
>”You’re a really great guy, Anon.”
>”G-Gilda, I…”
>You’re interrupted when Gilda puts a finger on your lips.
>”Anon… just… stop talking for a second.”
>She looks at you with half-lidded eyes and a sultry smile.
>Your face has become redder than it had ever been before.
>Before you’re able to even form a coherent thought, she kisses you on the cheek.
>”Don’t over think this…” There’s a seductive purr in her voice.
>She comes in close.
>You’re about to protest, but never get the chance.
>Gilda’s lips make contact with yours, gently latching on for a second before letting go with a pop.
>The butterflies have come back to the rave in your stomach, and they’ve brought hardcore drugs.
>Gilda moves away from your face and makes her way down to your neck, planting small kisses as she goes.
>She stops at the base of your neck, sucking at it and nipping gently
>This entices shrill moans out of you as small waves of pleasure down your spine.
>this continues until your brain stops swimming and you can form an objective thought.
>”Ngh…G-….G-Gilda wait, stop.”
>Hesitantly, Gilda looks up from your neck, looking concerned.
>”Gilda,are you sure we should be doing this? What if-“
>”Don’t worry about that. The only one who’ll catch hell for this is me, and that’s only if we’re caught.”
>She gets off the couch, and kneels in front of you.
>”So, like I said-”
>Her hands grip the bottom of her tank-top
>”-don’t over-think this.”

>Her hand moves to the waist band, hooking it with two fingers before pulling it down.
>Just like that, your rigid length springs free.
>Gilda licks her lips, a Predatory smile on her face.
>But instead of grabbing for your member, she takes her breasts in her hands
>You, of course, are confused at first.
>However, this confusion is quickly doused when she sandwiches your shaft in between them.
>Your pelvis shakes slightly as the sensation of those warm, pillowy mounds of flesh rub against your erection begins to entice a warm sensation in your body.
>Slowly, Gilda begins kneading her breasts, moving them up and down slightly.
>You close your eyes, biting your lip from the sensations, softly grunting as Gilda works the shaft.
>You continue to shiver as Gilda stimulates your length, the warm sensations in your body increasing.
>Suddenly you are assailed with a new sensation; the feeling of something wet and soft enveloping the head of your erection.
>your eyes shot open and you look down.
>You discover that the newfound pleasure you’re experiencing is from Gilda taking the tip of your length in her mouth.
>She looks up at you with those fiery, yellow eyes as she rotates her tongue around the head, earning loud gasps out of you for her efforts.
>Despite her mouth being occupied, you can see her smile a little