That’s just gross.
I know I’m a massive pervert, so I’m kind of throwing stones from a glass house, but still… Eww!
I did not need to know that the King of the Bullies has a thing for rimjobs. Receiving them, specifically. It’s such a shock to me that I cough and sputter, nearly choking on my own saliva.
“Are you alright?” Bridget asks, acting far too friendly for my liking even if her expression is still flat.
Where did the bitch I’m familiar with go?
Eh, whatever. The sudden change in her personality since hopping into this car isn’t all that pressing. I’ve much more important things to contemplate. Things, such as how to best use this little tidbit of information I learned.
Who knew Derek would be super into ass play? And you think you know a guy.
My thoughts immediately go to how I can best use this information for my own benefit. If it wasn’t obvious already with how quickly my mind goes to blackmail, I’m not the most principled person. Especially not when the only victims of such acts are assholes like him.
He would be incredibly pissed if he knew she told me, but then again, maybe he wouldn’t be. Once more, I’m reminded of everything going on. The strangeness of the whole day.
This has all but confirmed my theory. Something has hypnotised the people around me, with Bridget, for whatever reason, at the core of it. She answers any question I pose her, and does anything I ask of her. There’s no other explanation. No other world in which she’d do any of this.
Of course, it begs the question: how far does such an effect go? Could, for instance, I ask her to fu-
HOLY SHIT!
The thought is cut off by the sight of her house. No, not her house. The front gate to her house. That, alone, is enough to render me speechless.
The car pulls to a quiet stop in front of them, waiting for the way to open. All I can do is sit there in silence, slack-jawed and wide-eyed.
Thick, tall marble walls stand vigil on either side of the gates, blocking any sight of the estate past them. As for the gates themselves, they’re massive and ornate, in a way I didn’t expect of anyone in the real world. Seriously, it’s something you should only ever see in TV or movies.
They’re gold, not painted, but literal gold. Okay, maybe they could simply be gold-plated, but for their size that still means a metric fuck-ton of gold. That said, I wouldn’t put it past this family if they were solid gold.
This is insane…
My shock only grows as we crawl past the gates and up the winding driveway. The path meanders back and forth, flanked by the most intricate garden I’ve ever seen. Not to mention, spacious.
Verdant green foliage is everywhere. Bushes, trees, hedges, the lot. Bright reds and yellows, and all manner of other colourful flowers break up the scene. Then, there are the statues and water features, yes, plural.
The level of wealth needed to maintain something like this is utterly insane to think about. If Bridget’s father is a crime boss, then he must be the most successful one alive.
As if the sights couldn’t get any more impressive, I finally lay eyes on the house. Calling it that, however, does not do the place justice. It’s a palace fit for a king.
Made of marble and accented with gold trimmings, the building matches the estate’s outer wall. It, however, towers over that. Two stories tall in most places, three at its most central spot, it really is grand beyond imagining. Then there’s how far it sprawls across the land.
Before, I never quite understood what people meant when they said a building could have wings. Now I do. The place stretches far and wide. Simply walking the distance from one end to the other would, I imagine, take a long time. And that’s if you don’t get lost, a prospect that seems quite likely. God knows I would if I were forced to walk it alone. Read the latest chapters at novelping . com.
How many people does it take to clean a house like this? I contemplate the logistics of such a household as we slowly approach the front door.
In time, we pull to a stop at the end of the grand driveway. Up close, the house looms over me, ever imposing as I crawl out of the backseat, following after Bridget.
Never in my life have I felt more out of place. I don’t belong here.
Still, the girl treats me like my presence beside her isn’t anything out of the ordinary. She makes for the front door with no hesitation, simply expecting me to follow along. I do so, but with weak, faltering steps and my head on a swivel. There’s far too much for me to gawk at.
Bridget doesn’t reach for the doors. What, am I being silly? Why would I expect her to even try to open them herself? Of course, there’s a guy inside whose entire job it seems is to stand there and do that for her.
Seriously, this is all so fucking ridiculous.
I watch the man carefully as he ushers us inside and shuts the doors behind us. The expression on his face is so neutral, so well guarded, despite his job being nothing more than a literal door opener.
How does he do it, all day long, too? I’d kill myself if I was reduced to something like that. Then again, I suppose it all depends on how much he’s getting paid. If he’s rolling in it, then maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all. God knows this family has enough wealth to pay even their most meaningless employees a butt load.
My thoughts are sensibly kept to myself as I look around the house. The interior is more of the same. Everywhere I look, it’s one thing or another, all needlessly lavish. Honestly, it’s all a bit sickening. No one should be this rich.
I’m starting to see why Bridget is the way she is. It would be hard for anyone raised in such surroundings not be a spoiled brat.
Speaking of the girl, she leads me deeper into the house without a word. We walk in silence for a good few minutes. On the way, we pass several staff members, maids and butlers. Actual ones, the likes of which I’ve only ever really seen on TV before. They greet her warmly, with big, albeit forced smiles. She, however, ignores their presence.
Soon enough we arrive at her bedroom. That, at least, is surprisingly toned down. It’s nowhere near as gaudy as the rest of the estate. Now, don’t get me wrong, it’s still very insane, just a bit more reasonably so.
Her big, four-poster bed sits in the centre of her room. Pink, silk sheets, ones that look so damned soft, cover it. An entire walk-in wardrobe, bigger than the entirety of my own bedroom, sits on the other side of the room, the door ajar. Then there’s her vanity desks. Not one or two of them, but three of them, and all filled with various make-up… things. As unfamiliar as I am with all, I don’t have a clue what even a fraction of it is for.
Pink is definitely a common colour here. In fact, the whole room screams girly, in a way I wouldn’t expect of the stuck-up Queen Bee. There are more than a few stuffed accoutrements filling whatever surfaces are available, too.
Bridget unceremoniously tosses her bag onto the floor next to her bed. It thuds audibly there, and she wastes no time rifling through it. From within she pulls out her textbooks, notepads, and a handful of pens. In no time at all, she has them arrayed on her bed.
“I’ve got homework to do. Feel free to go at it while I’m working.” She says matter-of-factly, like it’s all no big deal to her.
In fact, she’s so casual about it that her next action takes me by surprise. The last thing I expect her to do is reach under her skirt and pull down her panties. Nonetheless, that’s exactly what she does.
They’re a frilly, pink pair, because of course they are. With a room like this, why would I expect anything else? Of course, the girly-girl is a bit of a slut too, and that’s also reflected in her choice of underwear.
Frilly they might be, but they’re also a thong.
I lose myself for a moment, standing there, gawking at her panties. It’s the first, freshly worn pair I’ve ever really seen in real life before. Not including my own mother’s, of course, but that’s just gross to think about.
These ones, however… God, the sight of them gets my heart racing and my cock throbbing.
I watch intently, my eyes tracking her panties as she steps out of them. Then, my gaze jerks upward. The feast for my eyes gets even better as she crawls up onto her bed. Her plaid skirt rides up as she does so, offering me a peek at her juicy butt. For a brief moment, I believe I even manage to spot a hint of her pussy too, but I’m not quite sure.
Even just a glimpse is enough to get me going to the point my cock swells in my pants. I’m being an idiot, though. Why am I getting excited over something so small, especially with what awaits me?
Unlike what happened in the janitor’s supply closet this morning, there’s no risk that this is a trap. Sure, there are potential consequences to what I’m about to do; that’s if my theory is incorrect. I am, however, confident it’s not. I have a feeling in my bones that says otherwise. This chapter is updated first at g.com.
“Well, are you going to start or what? My kitty-cat won’t lick itself.” Bridget huffs, not out of annoyance, but a different kind of impatience.
It takes me a moment to realise why.
It’s eagerness colouring her voice. She’s actually looking forward to this. While Derek might dislike eating her out, she has a different opinion on the matter. His loss is my gain.
“Right, sorry. I’ll get right to it.” I apologise.
Although a moment after, I feel like an idiot for doing so. What do I have to be sorry about? A little delay, bah, that’s nothing. And besides, we’re both going to enjoy this thoroughly.
I can’t get hung up on my thoughts, not like I normally do. Now is no time to be myself. I need to be someone else, a better me. And thus, I shove everything else deep down, focusing solely on the task at hand. That being eating out the most popular girl in school.
Just thinking that thought feels so surreal. Today has certainly been one hell of a day. I’m well and truly out of my wheelhouse. Have been for a while now. It’s all gotten to the point I wouldn’t be surprised if I suddenly woke up from a nice, warm dream… any second now.
No?
I guess this is really happening then.
There is only so much my nervousness can cause me to stall before finally going ahead with it. So, without further ado, I join Bridget on the bed.
The oh-so-soft mattress shifts as I crawl atop it. She lies there on her front, flipping through an open textbook. As she does so, sensing my presence, she spreads her legs for me. That’s it, nothing else, no words need to be said that haven’t already been said.
My hands shake, moving unsteadily through the air. I home in on her backside. God, I’ve never been more nervous in my life. Not even in the moments before she sucked me off this morning.
When finally I touch her, I act as if I’m touching a fragile piece of chinaware. My fingers barely even brush against her thighs, peeking out just under the hem of her skirt. That alone is enough to send a shiver down my spine. Such soft, tanned skin leaves me captivated.
Do all girls feel so smooth?
Bit by bit, second by second, my touch grows more certain. She’s content to lie there and let me do my own thing, absorbed in her studies as she is.
I never took her to be so studious. Then again, a girl like her probably doesn’t want to disappoint her family. They might spoil her in ways, but I bet they’re far more disciplined in others. More so than her asshole of a boyfriend’s, at least.
My cock throbs in my pants as my fingers dig firmer into her thighs, getting a proper feel of her. Not only that, I start to move them, caressing her.
The feeling sends a shiver down my spine. Her soft, smooth skin is really something special. It’s not at all like my own skin when I trail my hands over an arm or leg. I savour every moment of it, burning the experience into memory.
In the grand scheme of things, though, this is naught but a blip on the radar. I soon move on to the more pressing matter. That, of what lies under her skirt.
My hands drift up her thighs, slowly pushing said clothing higher and higher. With every inch they travel, more and more of her bare flesh greets me. Then finally, my heart skips a beat as I lay eyes on it.
Her soft, supple rear lies before me, completely exposed. Most importantly, though, there, below her nice, round butt cheeks, is a glimpse of her pussy. The first one I’ve ever seen in real life before, and let me tell you, it does not disappoint.