The Book of Masks (Vol. 4)

Someone Old, Someone New, Something Stolen ...

Previously: "A Girl for Kirkham" 

You reach for your phone and hover the thumb of one hand over the keypad even as you stroke the underside of your erect cock with the the thumb of your other. What would Sydney think of becoming Lisa Yarborough? Would she be jealous, because you're thinking of your old girlfriend? Insulted and angry?

It takes you a long time to screw up the courage to text her, and when the courage does come, it comes from the sting in your cock you've given yourself as you masturbated. The thought is just too delicious to not propose.

Lisa Yarbro, you text Kelsey. (Courage failed insofar as, finally, you could only spit the name out, rather than the entire idea.)

It's a few minutes before Kelsey replies: What about her? along with a puzzled emoji.

Want u b her.

An even longer pause follows before her reply: You want Will to go start going with her again?, followed by a Hmmm as you're tapping in your own reply.

No want her go wi Kirkham he take her away from Geoff.

When a further minute goes by without a reply, you call her directly.

"Listen," you growl at her in a low voice, "I've been thinking about it ever since that motherfucker showed up at our table at the coffee shop this afternoon. I wanna fuck him over the way he fucked me over when he took her from me."

Sydney doesn't immediately reply, but there's a note of awe in her voice when she does. "Revenge porn?"

"Well, revenge, anyway. I wanna take her away from that cocksucker."

She hesitates. "I guess I could see it," she says. "So, Lisa feels sorry for Will because of what David did to her out at the portables, and she goes to talk to him—"

"No, I don't want her to go with Will! I mean, I do want her to go with me. But, y'know. With Kirkham."

She draws a deep breath. "That would be ... weird," she says. "Freaky. Lisa and David? She's not— He's not her type, Will. I don't think. It would look—"

"Who fucking cares how it looks?" You feel the sweat crawling over you. "We could make it happen, Sydney. You and me. If you're Lisa."

"We could make anything happen," she replies. "Look, I'm not trying to say 'no' to you, sweetie—"

"Then just let me bust 'em up. The way I busted—" You swallow thickly at the painful memory. "The way I busted Will and Sydney up. Lemme haul that faggot off and explain to him how I'm gonna be fucking his girlfriend while he sits in the corner with his limp dick in his hand and watches. An' I explain it to him until he breaks up with Lisa 'cos he can't stand it no more."

"Oh." She sounds startled. "So this isn't about Lisa. It's about Geoff."

"Well, yeah," you admit. "But it's about both of them. 'Cos I do want us together, and if you're Lisa—"

"I'll have to think about this, Will," she says. "I'm not saying 'no', but I'm not saying 'yes', either. Not yet. This is—" There's a long, trailing pause before she says, in kind of a rush, "Do you still have feelings for her?"

Shit fuck cunt piss FUCK! You fucking knew it was going to come back to that, and that Sydney would have a jealous spasm or something.

Fortunately, David Kirkham, though he has the manners of a thug also has the cunning of a cobra.

"I don't got feelings for her, Sydney," you reply. "I just got feelings about her. Y'konw? And my feeling about her is that I want to fuck my old girlfriend, but I want my new girlfriend—you—inside her body when I do."

Sydney again gasps. But this time it sounds like a long, deep moan. "Oh!" she says. "Ohhhhh!"

"Yeah, so what do you think?"

"I think I'm about to cum, Will," she moans. "Oh God, I'm— I gotta get this zipper down." She swallows—a thick, sticky sound.

"Say all that again, Will," she groans. "Tell me all about how you want to fuck your old girlfriend—while I'm in her body!

* * * * *

So that convinces her. She doesn't have anything to "think" about anymore, unless it's to think some more during the night on the slow, careful, grinding sexual fantasy you unfolded her, in which she crawls into Lisa Yarborough's body and and into her life, and unbuttons her clothes and her 'gyny to the hard, probing cock of David Kirkham-slash-Will Prescott. You even describe in loving detail the clothes she'd be wearing—the baby-blue dress matched with white stockings—and how you'd slowly rip them apart down the front, from top to bottom, and mount her as she wallowed in the rags. "You're a beast!" she groaned.

The next morning your muscles are aching all over with sexual anticipation—especially the tight ones webbed about your inner thighs, groin, and ball sack—as you swagger panther-like into the school. You restlessly roll a toothpick about your mouth as you prowl the hallways; pull it out and flick it away; slip a fresh toothpick in; and chew the new one to pulp. You heedlessly shoulder people aside—so many fucking bozos in this school—and when they yell you don't even stop to glower at them. You're a man on a mission.

Until you see her at her locker. Then you stop dead in the middle of hallway, and someone bounces off your backpack.

Lisa is wearing a plum-violet top that nicely complements her dark hair. The hem hangs out over her ass, and she has belted it at the waist with a thin black cord. Below, she's wearing jeans. She standing with her back to you, changing her books out, and the sweep of her dark hair down to her shoulders is like a veil draped over a work of art. Or a curtain to be swept aside to reveal the beauty waiting on stage.

Man, it's like you've still got it hard for her.

You've certainly got a hard on. Maybe you and Kirkham are each only a little bit in love with her, but it adds up to something that hurts.

Almost you quail and pass by. If you do love her, why are you thinking of doing something so terrible as you and Sydney were talking about last night?

So it's her bad luck that Martin Gardinhire slides in right then to talk to her. Fucking dipshit is Mansfield's best friend, and when she turns to smile at him you remember what this is mostly about: Mansfield. You wait until Gardinhire has shuffled off for class, then you push in to lean in where he'd been standing. "Hey," you low-key growl at Lisa, and snap hard teeth down on what's left of the shredded toothpick.

She glances over, and does a double-take at you. "Oh. Hey." She goes back to packing up her bag, and starts to close her locker door. You grab its side and hold it open. She gives you a startled look.

You jerk your chin at her. "You hang out a long time with Kelsey yesterday after I left?"

Her eyes are wide. "Um ... No. She had to go—"

"Yeah, I had to go to. Else I would'a stayed."

"Oh." She glances nervously past you. "Well, I have to get to class—"

"I got nothing going on after school, you know, nowhere I gotta be. So come hang out with me, same place as yesterday. I'll buy your coffee for you."

She smiles, tightly. "That's okay, I—"

"Pay your own, then, I don't give a shit. But I'm gonna see you out there again at four."

You hold her eye. She looks deeply startled. Suddenly aware that you're almost frozen stiff as well, you roll the toothpick to the other side of your mouth, and flare your nostrils slightly.

She smiles a smile that has a hint of nausea behind it. "Can I bring my boyfriend with me?" she asks.

"Dude who was with you yesterday? Nah, I'm not into him." You edge up just a little closer. "I'm into you."

Her smile widens nervously. "Well, I've got a boyfriend, and, um—"

You roll the toothpick back over again. "He ain't welcome. An' it ain't like he's gotta know you're going out someplace with me." You lift your eyebrows slightly.

There's now an unmistakable tremor in her voice. "That's not what I meant. What I meant was—"

"Okay, lemme explain to you what I mean." You edge in very close, so close that the scent of her soap and face powder tickles your nostrils.

"I mean that we should meet up," you tell her. "Talk, hang out, get to know each other. Laugh, look at videos on our phones, talk about who we are and what we like. Figure out that we like each other. A lot."

You pluck the toothpick from your mouth and point it to her. (And you're so close now that almost poke her in the nose.)

"I already know I like you," you tell her. "This afternoon ain't about that, it's about you figuring out that you like me. And after that, well—" You roll your shoulders. "That dude you were with yesterday, he can go looking for some other girl to like him. 'Cos you'll have me then."

You back away, but gently lift your eyebrows as you hold her gaze. "Four o'clock," you tell her. "You could make a note of it in your phone, 'cept I know you won't forget."

You slide the toothpick back in, then turn to shoulder your way through the crowd toward your own locker.

* * * * *

You get a text from Kelsey in the break between first and second. Did u talk to Lisa already?

Fuck yeah, you reply. She doesn't answer.

You don't know why she's asking, but it gives you pause. You were thinking of going to look for Mansfield later today, to give him the same "warning and promise" that Kirkham gave you about Sydney. But as the periods pass with no more word from Sydney, you wonder if you should.

Next: "Day of the Jackass" 

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"Table of Contents (Vol. 4)" 
"The Book of Masks (Vol. 4)"