Thread: Beautiful Little Secret [Chai & Reydan]

Her mouth opened a little, and she seemed to be listening. I'll try to tell you, she said. Did you ever hear of planting hands? Can't say I have, ma'am. Well, I can only tell you what it feels like. It's when you're picking off the buds you don't want. Everything goes right down into your fingertips. You watch your fingers work. They do it themselves. You can feel how it is. They pick and pick the buds. They never make a mistake. They're with the plant. Do you see? Your fingers and the plant. You can feel that, right up your arm. They know. They never make a mistake. You can feel it. When you're like that you can't do anything wrong. Do you see that? Do you understand that? Click to expand... Cynthia looked up and away from the book in her hands, nervously looking around her at the cafe. It was quiet for a Friday evening, but then she figured students her age were probably out at some bar or club. Not that she wasn't into those things, but she much rather preferred the company of a warm latte, the gentle hum of the working cafe staff, and a fun little read. Of course, this collection of John Steinbeck's short stories seemed a tad bit more than fun, with the most subtle inclusion of literary porn. Well, it wasn't porn exactly, but there was no mistaking the description of fingers picking at buds, and she had looked up nervously as an automatic reaction just to make sure no one was watching her. But it wasn't so much the inclusion of female masturbation within the story that made her so nervous. It was that the words called forth the memory of events from a few days ago. Bubble baths and sudsy photos, her delicate fingers working at her own bud, images of a thick, dark cock invading her thoughts... Steinbeck wrote it right. She could feel how it was. When she was like that she couldn't do anything wrong. Yet here she was, seated in a small booth on the inside of the small establishment, and a pang of regret shooting through her. Again. Clearly she couldn't do anything wrong in the moment, but her conscience ate her alive after the fact. Growing up she had been nothing but a model student, and now she was risking it all. Perhaps her mind was blowing it all out of proportion, but the worry of having inappropriate relations constantly hung over what she was doing. But... even through all that, she found she couldn't help but give in to the temptation. She was Eve, taking the smallest bite from the forbidden fruit. Maybe something small couldn't hurt, Cynthia thought to herself as she thumbed through pictures on her phone. Something to send him, something to keep some of the mystery. In the end she settled on some photos a couple of weeks old, taken in the dressing room at a Victoria's Secret. She'd been shopping for lounge clothes, sports wear, and lingerie that day, and had taken picture of all her options to show her friends before making any decisions. She cropped a photo of herself in low riding sweatpants and a sports bra, briefly admiring the way the bra pushed her breasts together to make them seem the slightest bit fuller. Juicier. Hopefully Dr. Johnson would appreciate them, too. Cynthia had barely pressed send when the door to the cafe opened and she heard the unmistakable voice echo gently through the room. Hey, Steve! She heard her professor greet the owner of the cafe. Speak of the devil.