“Me too,” she added, breaking through my crippling mortification and sending me spiralling into disbelief.
She… missed me? Wha— but why…? How? I’m not… I’m worthless… W-why would she possibly miss me after she’d had her little fun on the train and mocked me? Someone like her shouldn’t even remember me…
“I’ve been asking all over for you, hoping I might find you again.”
“W-why?” I managed to blurt out.
She tilted her head and frowned slightly, seemingly in genuine confusion, as though she couldn’t possibly understand why I’d be surprised.
“Because you’re amazing,” she said.
But her words didn’t register. They didn’t make sense.
“You’re so unbelievably cute and beautiful,” she continued, eyeing my naked body.
I pressed my legs together, though I knew perfectly well that, thin as I was, my thigh gap meant nothing was actually hidden. I drew my hands over myself again, one covering my chest, the other cupping my most private place.
Her expression shifted almost imperceptibly, as though she were saddened by my attempts to hide myself but didn’t want to show it. Still, she continued.
“And from what I’ve found out, you’ve got quite the brain in that beautiful little head of yours. Top student at Santalune TS? That’s certainly something.”
Her tone was almost playful, so much so that I wondered whether she was actually making fun of me.
“And most of all…” She bent forward as though she were about to whisper a secret. “I’ve never met someone who would so readily do anything I told them to. I just have to make you mine,” she concluded.
I squeaked.
I wish I were joking, truly. I could’ve been a normal human being and answered something, anything. Or made a face, been angry, shocked, or something… normal. But I squeaked instead, my face and ears burning hot as I did. I must’ve been as red as a Cheri Berry.
She laughed, a beautiful, crystal-clear sound that made me want both to hit myself for how humiliated I felt and to make her laugh more by any means necessary.
Still, I tried to ground myself, not quite ready to accept that this wasn’t my imagination, or that she was even serious to begin with. What if she was simply leading me on, only to bully or mock me later?
So I returned to the one thing that seemed to matter, which was quite a sensible response, if I did say so myself.
“I-I should get dressed,” I mumbled, looking around the tent for my backpack.
As I reached towards it with the hand that had been covering my chest, Charlotte moved swiftly, catching both my wrists and pinning them above my head with one hand. She braced herself with the other, leaning over me until her beautiful face was so close that I could feel her breath.
“I would find that so unfortunate,” she cooed. “You’re too beautiful to hide away. And it’s just the two of us in here…”
Her face drew even closer as she lowered herself onto her forearm, still holding my wrists with one hand. With the other, she picked up something beside me.
Her old socks.
She brought them to her nose and sniffed once before grinning and pressing them against my nose in turn. A high-pitched moan escaped me.
“It seems you’ve been using them quite a bit. They barely smell any more,” she remarked, a hint of pride in her voice, before bringing her lips close to my ear.
“Mh?” I murmured in confusion.
“How many times did you cum thinking about me?”
“C-cum?” I asked, having no idea what the word meant.
She drew her head back and stared into my eyes, surprise written all over her face. For the first time since she’d arrived, I heard genuine hesitation in her voice.
“You… touch yourself, right?”
Oh, that was what she meant. I thought, at least.
“F-five?” I breathed in a barely audible whisper.
Charlotte’s expression visibly relaxed, though the surprise remained.
“Did you not know about cumming? Orgasms?”
I shook my head feebly.
Her eyes widened slightly.
“W-was your first after we met?”
I nodded, my face burning up all over again.
“By Arceus,” she breathed. “You’re so precious. I need you to be mine!” she exclaimed, her voice filled with greed and… something else.
The sheer desire in her tone and demeanour hit me right in the chest. I’d never met anyone who wanted me, aside from Mum, but that didn’t count. I’d never even entertained the idea of finding someone, let alone someone as beautiful as her…
Yet the little rational part of me whispered that I barely knew this girl. On the other hand, she knew about… well, touching and stuff. She’d been surprised that I didn’t. Maybe she could even teach me.
“D-do you… C-can you t-teach me?”
“You mean—”
“T-to feel good,” I added.
The smile that appeared on her face was so radiant, genuine and beautiful that I wished I could stop time and watch it for all eternity.
“I can teach you. I can make you feel good. And I can show you so much more,” she whispered in my ear, her tone sending a shiver through me. “Do you want me to?”
I hesitated for a mere second before nodding with a little “Mhm”.
Charlotte then lay down on her side beside me, propping her head up with one hand so she could look down at my face. With the other, she freed my wrists and brushed a strand of white hair behind my ear.
“Don’t move your hands,” she said softly, letting a finger trail from my ear, along my jaw, and down to my neck in the gentlest caress.
She grinned and glanced down along my body. One of her legs was draped over mine, and I could feel the fabric of her knee-high sock against my shins.
“Have you only ever touched yourself while holding my socks?” she asked, her fingers trailing down my neck to my shoulder, then to my collarbone.
“M-Mhm,” I confirmed shyly, thoroughly ashamed.
She smiled, seeming to consider something for a moment. Her finger had stopped at my collarbone. Suddenly, she lifted her hand away. I felt her raise her leg and heard the soft rustle of fabric before her bare skin settled against mine again.
Then she brought one of her socks to my face, resting the toe area over my nose. Its scent was arguably stronger than that of the first pair, but it was unmistakably hers.
“Then let’s keep up with good habits. Hold it there with your hand,” she commanded softly, resuming her gentle trail with her finger.
I did as I was told, breathing through the fabric while focusing on the sensation of her incredibly soft leg resting over mine and her fingers tracing a gentle path from my collarbone to my chest, then down to my stomach.
Every touch and caress sent a jolt of anticipation through my body. I could feel myself growing warmer, my thoughts becoming increasingly muddled. It was all I could do not to squirm like a Caterpie beneath her fingers.
After tracing my ribs, she rested her hand on my stomach, spreading her fingers out across it. They were so close to my mons, yet still so far away. My breath was already coming in gasps, each intake of air eroding a little more of whatever common sense I had left.
There was nothing but her scent, her touch and her beautiful face peering down at mine.
When her fingers moved sideways to my hip bone, I let out an involuntary moan of disappointment. When they traced the crease running down from my hip, I shuddered.
And when her fingers ever so lightly caressed the top of my mons, drawing closer and closer, until they finally, oh so shyly touched the tip of my lips, my hips bucked and I moaned in an animalistic manner that brought additional heat to my already burning red cheeks, ears and neck.
She used a single finger to gently stroke the very top of the little folds peeking out from between my lips. Slowly, softly, she spread my wetness to whatever little surface wasn’t already drenched down there. Then she pushed just enough to make the folds split and accept her finger between them. I gasped and moaned. My back arched.
Her finger slid up and down the length between my lips, and every time she reached the top, that little spot that did it all, she added just a little more pressure, making me moan a little louder every passage.
When I thought it couldn’t feel any better, she brought her face closer to me. Her mouth approached my ear, opening slowly, I could hear her breath, feel it against my skin. The warmth. She gently nibbled my ear, her warm tongue licking my lobe. At the same time, she was sliding her soft bare foot up and down my legs.
I couldn’t hold it any longer. There were too many sensations. I was still pushing her smell into my nose. It was all her doing. And yet, the crescendo never mounted enough to make me teeter over the edge.
She moved softly, and slowly.
Agonisingly slowly.
Finally, I thought I was about to… cum, when her finger suddenly moved lower than before.
“Ow! N-not there!” I squealed, suddenly terrified by where her finger was heading.
Her head shot up, surprise once again apparent on her face.
“You’re a virgin?” She quickly rephrased the question, probably anticipating that I wouldn’t understand, given my track record. “I mean, you’ve never put anything inside?”
I looked into her eyes, fear and confusion likely written all over mine despite my desire for relief, and shook my head.