FICTION FICTION FICTION! :O

"This is illegal" I exclaimed. "You're talking as if you've cared about rules." She replied. I opened my mouth to protest but her tongue was already discovering mine. She drove her fingers through my soft hair and I wanted to protest but resisting her was the problem. She was the most attractive thing I had seen. Just looking at her walk through the corridors smiling at me, brought out the 'sexual creature' in me. My friend thinks she's the 'sexual bad-ass' in me; I don't care, she's just fucking amazing. It's not like love or anything, she's just so goddamnit sexy; lust, if you may. And I admit, she's no Betty Crocker but she sure is a lot of 'clothes off' in public places (changing rooms, bathrooms, storerooms, laboratories). Oh and she's 10 years older than me; not that I care. but some people think it's an important factor, especially Betty Crocker.

She knows I love her, she says she confused. I can't wait around forever, so I move on to the 'senior'. But now Betty Crocker decides she probably wants me too. Ah, she can have her men now. My ego was known to be bigger than me, and I'm pretty big.

So the 'senior' thinks I'm over Betty Crocker. I am, but your first love is always your first love.

Love. What a fucking pretentious word. Love is one of the inventions I hate. After Pandora, of course; she opened the whore box which ruined the world. And she went against the 'rule' set by her elder. Which brings me to point one; she's 10 fucking years older than I am! What does she even see in me?!?! And what if this turns out like 'Pandora's Box'. Like all pretty and nice outside but once opened (pun definitely intended), gets the best of her, or worse, me?!

"Sugar" she crooned. I hated when she called me that, too much Betty Crocker for me. "Sugar, I love the way your hair curls when you wake up." I replied with a grunt. "Coffee?" She asked. I snatched the mug and gulped more than half of it. "You know, I'm thinking, how much meaner could you get without coffee? I mean, quite caffeine for a week, na?" She stuck her tounge out. I pretended to grab it and devour it. "No more coffee for me from now on." I said and then finished the rest of my cup and poured some more.

The 'senior' and I actually had some things in common; we were tall, attractive, fuckingly brilliant while talking, almost ditto music and movie tastes. Betty Crocker and I were poles apart, literally. I'm 5'10 and she's 5'0. We have a difference of a large penis between us. She probably doesn't have sex appeal according to most people, which might be true, but she cuter than a panda bear cute. NOT the usual ME! Scared of talking to an audience, only about 2 artists in common and her favorite movie is exactly the the kind I detest. And I 'love' her. Gee, retarded much? Also a little ironic. Ah, THIS is the Indian side of me, isn't it?

The 'senior' was oblivous to the fact I didn't love her. Betty Crocker was oblivious to the fact I did.

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I handwrote a story after really long. It's annoying to retype. Oh and fiction after REALLY long! :O