ecdysis

You never really thought Kaede would agree to meet after whatever the fuck happened last week between the three of you.

Yet she sits in front of you, unfazed—amused even, with a hunger for talking you never thought she had in her.

A friend of mine works here, she starts, and after a couple of beats you realize this is a monologue. You are a glorified spectator, just staring at how those big dark eyes brighten her whole face or at the singular way her lips crease into a smile—she more than often flashes her canines in a way that’s kinda unsettling. Maybe Sohyun was right all along. There is indeed something special about this girl, just not in the way you imagined. 

You lose yourself observing how expressive she is, how her words mean less than the way she moves her hands, how by looking at the light in her eyes you can probably expect the sentiment of what she’s saying next.  

Sometimes you catch up on little things—how good this place’s milkshakes are (bet, especially since she's not paying), or how much she misses her hometown, or again, how annoying and invasive her new coworkers are (what?).

“Do you know why I told you to get lost?” 

A bell suddenly rings in your brain, and brings you back on Earth. She's talking about you, last week specifically, and you can only shake your head dumbfounded.

“I was sure one of you would come back crawling to beg me.” She pokes at her own cheek playfully and looks up, her eyes wandering towards something that could catch her attention. “I don’t know, I think I liked the scene in my mind.”

She laughs out loud and it’s crystal clear. 

See, that’s when you understand there’s not really much of a difference between how you, Sohyun and a milkshake’s texture are perceived in Kaede’s mind. You are just items on a menu, flavors meant to be tasted out for her own momentary craving

“I’m sorry, we—” you stutter in a poor attempt to turn this thing into a two-way conversation.

“Don’t be it,” she cuts you short, and giggles again. “Besides, better be useful than sorry.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t think you are really that dense,” she says, rolling her eyes, every gesture as theatrical as it gets. You stare, blank, as she huffs and brings a palm to the forehead. “Try a little harder”

“I’m not following,” you repeat, and maybe you should have stuck to nodding.

“Maybe you are really that dense.” 

Your run to wherever the hell Kaede brought you was quite an anticlimactic series of events: 1) you bumping with a server and getting served fresh strawberry milkshake with double whipped cream right on your shirt; 2) Kaede laughing at you as you tried to apologize with the personnel; 3) a mandatory I hate you message to Sohyun; 4) you bumping your head once again as you tried to enter this spare bathroom in the shop’s basement (why would they even make the door so short?).

“I'm still not convinced,” she mumbles as you try to defeat the giant pink spot on your shirt with sink-water and bad manners. And again you have no idea what she’s talking about.

“How is that supposed to happen?” 

“What?”

“You and me. And Sohyun, of course. I’m just curious.”

“I’ll spare you the details.”

“But I want the details. Tell me, how would you like me?” You notice in the past three minutes  you tried your best at being useless, she must have gotten closer. Your rubbing gets erratic, the warm feeling of her breath against your shoulders distracting you more than you’d like to admit.

“Listen, Kaede. We are sorry,” you blurt, your voice straining in the most pathetic way known to man.

You hear a puff, then her hand, soft on your collarbone. It’s gelid.

“That’s all you can say?” 

Kaede looks up at you, long fingernails graze over your stomach. There’s an intentional agonizing slowness in the way she moves around you. Your heart flips.

“Let me guess,” 

Anticlimactic is probably today’s special, as she starts guessing button by button, one hand fleets over your length to check if you are as hard as she thinks you are. Thumb pulls your waistband down to mid-thigh and she doesn’t really need to think about it anymore.

“It would be something like this,” she begins, small fingers wrapped all around your shaft. Her entire palm cups you firmly before settling into a slow and gentle stroking. 

“But there’s an important difference, huh. I’d be down on my knees, mouth full of—” Her thumb rubs all over your tip, the friction killing you inside. “This.” 

“Eyes watering but searching for yours,” she continues as her hand fastens the rhythm. “A clichè but, eye contact is important, isn’t it?”

Her question falls into the void, you arch your back slightly and look upward. There’s no way you can look her in the eyes now.

“And I’d be slobbering all over it. I wouldn’t be able to talk, of course, but my pupils would tell you everything you wanna know, right?”

The image lives vivid in your mind as her grip gets firmer and firmer.

“Something like: oh please daddy, fuck my slutty little mouth, please,” she says, her voice hitching into a thin, whistling strain.

You groan through your teeth in a weak effort of protest, and she just laughs.

“But let’s be more specific. Your friend would be there too. Shirt open to display those nice full titties, because let’s be real, that’s all she’s good for,”

Every downward stroke presses a little harder than it should and it starts hurting.

“One hand pinching her nipples and two fingers deep in her cunt as she watches us wishing it was her in my place sucking this nice cock.”

Why do you even listen to Sohyun? (And more importantly: did you actually send that I hate you message to her?)

“Then the inevitable will happen, you’d lose your patience. You’d yank my hair and force me down on your groin. Your cock hitting the back of my throat, Sohyun squealing like the slut she is, and me barely functioning because not enough oxygen is getting to my brain.” You throb and twitch at the implied imagery, knowing you can’t let this keep going for much longer. “And suddenly warm cum deep in my throat, and I’ll make all those little gag sounds as I choke on your load, and—Oh!”

Her mouth gets closer to your neck as she stops her motion. She breathes hot air on your skin before leaving a wet kiss on your neck. 

“You wanna cum so bad, don’t you?” she whispers in your ear.

“Please..”

Hips jerk, desperate, muscles tense, taut. Your gut aches for release, and you cock pulses within Kaede’s firm grip.

“Do it.”

She flashes that smug grin once again, and that’s the last thing you see before your eyes shut down. Fingers milk you out of every spasm, the sound of it getting squelchy as you coat her hand in white ropes.

Despite the mess she keeps going until there’s not much left of you (figuratively). You open your eyes and she’s there, all content and awestruck by her doing.

“So, how far off was I?”

Her hand flashes triumphant to your face with sticky evidence of an undeniable truth. You don’t really need to answer.

“Clean it up,” she adds, beaming, “Pretty please?”

You offer a tissue and she laughs out loud, dimples now never more evident. “Oh no, oh boy. With your mouth.”

Of course, how stupid.

A breathless moan escapes your lips as your tongue drags along the lines of her fingers. The texture is icky, the savour salty, but you suck on them dutifully. She pushes two fingers deeper and amusement paints her face as you gag over your own filth.

Then she lets go, you swallow, soundly. Her mouth ghosts over your ear and you hear a faint good boy. You are ablaze, but a chill runs down your spine.

“Men are really all the same. Aren’t they?” she recounts, casually, as she drags her panties down her pale legs.

“A little gift,” she says as she hands them to you. “Use them to jerk off or whatever, I don’t care.”

“Or maybe, you can stuff them in Sohyun’s mouth next time you fuck her. I bet she’d love it.”

“I guess. Thank you.” 

Your cheeks are burning. Her smile brighter than the sun. “Oh no need for it. I’m just that kind.”

“On your knees”, there’s a tilt in her voice, almost playful. You think she’s starting to enjoy this a little too much. 

“Eye contact, remember?” 

You nod as her fingers run through your scalp, nudging you to look at her—there’s a gentleness in the gesture you don’t really expect.

She tilts her head downward as she lets some spit dribble on your face.

Smile. Teeth.

“We are not done.”