All Chapters of Literature and Love Letters (COMPLETED): Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

"How, How would you pleasure me?" I ask desperately on the edge of my own climax.  "I'd thrust inside of you completely raw and fuck you hard and fast with my throbbing hard cock, not stopping until I come all over your beautiful breasts."  And that's all it takes.  I feel myself climax, my panties soaking wet. I moan and cry into the receiver that I can barely keep to my ear as my fingers move furiously over my tender burning core.  On the other end of the line, I can hear Thomas groan louder and louder until it stops and he's just left breathing hard and cursing.  "Did you come too?" I ask when I can fmally speak again.  Thomas chuckles softly before he answers "With that dirty mouth of yours how could I not?"  *

I walk into room 219 with my expertly written response to sonnet 18 already in my hand. I saunter up to the front desk where Thomas is busy marking up some noticeably long winded papers with a stereotypical red pen.  I hate those essays. You know, the kind that are like "I think sonnet 18 is really good because it shows how much the guy loves her. It is good because you don't see that much anymore. I love the way it is written, and I think old English is really cool..."  It's enough to make me throw up my breakfast just thinking about such disrespect to the written word.  "Hot off the press, Professor," I say with a smirk as I lay my work down on a bare spot amidst the clutter. It's the third day of class and Thomas is already a disheveled mess.  That must be a huge down side of being an English teacher. There's no grading rubric or cheat sheet. You have to sit and grade every sin

I write my number on a piece of notebook paper and hand it to Michael who shoves it gingerly into his tight denim jean pocket.  "I'll text you when I get out of practice tonight if that's Alright?" He asks me and I tind myself picturing him in those super form fitting football uniform pants.  Oh wow what's happening?"  "Yeah, that sounds good. I hope you do really well," I say, only half paying attention because I'm too busy wondering why the hell I had that thought about him.  "Well, I should do well. I'm the QB after all."  Wait, what did he just say?  "You're the quarterback?" I ask in disbelief. 

"Jeeze I haven't been out with a girl in sooo long, I don't even know how to act anymore!" Fiona admits while rifling through her entire wardrobe.  "I mean, honestly what do I wear? Boobs or no boobs?" Fiona holds a black sweater to her chest then a red low cut blouse.  "To be fair, Fiona, I'm pretty sure Clara still likes boobs. It's kinda the main appeal of being a lesbian"  I'm sitting on Fiona's bed, already completely dressed and messing around on my phone.  Before coming over I opted for a pair of tight black paints and a striped slightly cropped sweater.  I look good if I do say so myself while also being pretty comfortable. 

This movie isn't very good. We all decided on a typical rom-com for this date thinking it was the logical choice, but the plot and acting are so bad I want my money back not that Michael let me pay for myself anyways.  In fact he has been a complete gentleman. He bought my ticket and even splurged for the large popcorn which was probably like 80$ because movie theaters are rip offs.  I started shivering as soon as we sat down so he gave me his jacket even though I know he must be cold.  If I had to guess I'd say the movie as at about it's half way point and Fiona and Clara have completely checked out. They've been making out for fifteen minutes straight and it's a wonder neither of them have suffocated yet.  "Can you guys cut it out, that sound is driving me insane!" I whisper scream at Fiona who Iinally breaks her sucker fish lips off of Clara. They're all red and any traces of l

Fiona didn't bombard me with a million questions. She didn't try to control the radio. She didn't need an explanation or a reason, all she needed was to see me crying and she knew it was serious.  In the eight years that I've known Fiona she's cried a thousand times.  She's cried at movies and weddings. She's cried at kittens and puppies. She's very emotionally strong. She lets it out. She's in touch with the human side of herself but I'm not like that.  Fiona has only seen me cry once since  we've been friends and that was when my grandma died. I didn‘t sob, I didn't fall to pieces, but I quietly cried in the pew next to my parents.  Fiona had tagged along for e

Thomas's POV: It's such a quiet Saturday night.  After trying to shake off that pack of ravenous girls yesterday I figured a restful night in could do me a lot of good.  "Come on Professor no one has to know"  "Please, Dr. Crane, we have so much in common"  The memories make me want to drink.  How can young girls be so vulgar now a days?  I pour myself a single glass of whiskey and sit down.  I'm not an alcoholic, I just love my drink. Then again, maybe I am an alcoholic because they n

Sophia's POV:  I had told Fiona that I just wanted to be alone, but I realized almost immediately that was a mistake.  Never before had I felt so unwelcome in my own home. It's as if the walls themselves were mocking me for my disgusting lie.  There is no one else, but that's what you're supposed to say right? That's the end all admission if you want to get someone to give up on you.  Or to hate you.  I can usually keep it together but I 'm realizing that in order to be strong I need someone to be strong for. When I'm alone I have no reason to put on a face, so I left.  I didn't even think about the fact t

Thomas canceled class that following Monday because he was ill. I wasn't exactly surprised though since I doubt he lives any where near that park.  I shouldn't have made him walk home. I should have invited him inside and told him the truth.  I should have taken that kiss inside and turned it into more.  I should have laid everything bare out on the table but I didn't, and now I'm sitting in a heap of self pity as I shovel cereal into my mouth and watch chick flicks.  "Maria, you are my everything. I would never lie to you and say that there was someone else when there wasn't!"  "Oh Enrique! "  Is it me or

So apparently, when you almost screw a guy, they become really attached to you.  The following week at school I seemed to Iind Michael everywhere. He appeared every time Fiona and I had lunch, he came by the library when I was working, and he showed up randomly at my home with food or more flowers even though my Valentine's Day roses hadn't even died yet.  I was flattered, don't get me wrong, but all together it's a bit much. The only real time I can breathe freely in when I know he has football practice.  The trip is one week away and I'm looking forward to it less knowing that he's going.  Fiona isn't allowed to go and with the temptation of Thomas lingering over me I can tell it's going to test my self control. We each get our o