Abomination (Ryden)

Chapter 27

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By the time my parents come home Monday night, I can't even begin to count how many times Ryan and I have had sex, and judging by the looks on their faces (an absolutely mortified one on my dad, of course, and a smirk on my mom's, again, of course) they so totally know too. I mean, I can just imagine what we look like now, hair a mess, lips swollen and red, and probably just beaming with that post-sex glow. And, okay, I wouldn't be surprised if my whole house reeks, because yes, we did have that much sex - and not just in the confinement of my bedroom either.

So, if there's one thing I learned this weekend, it's that Ryan is a total animal. He fucks like a goddamn rabbit, I tell you. I mean, he's almost too exhausting, and that's like, really telling you something considering it's me talking here, and I used to think I was quite a nymphomaniac myself. But compared to Ryan, I've really got nothing him. It's just, you'd think after the zillionth time having sex in one day, you'd finally be sexed out, for at least, I don't know, a few hours or something (I sure was) but nope, not Ryan. As soon as he was capable of getting it up again, he was back at it, and honestly, who would ever think that from him? The innocent, little church boy? Not me, and certainly not little, old Mrs. Connors.

In case you were wondering, our weekend went something along the lines of this: fuck on my bed, sleep, fuck in the living room, eat, fuck in the kitchen, sleep, fuck in the shower, fuck in my bed, sleep, then repeat. Then add on like, a thirty second phone call with Jon and a blow-job for me after Ryan topped for the first time and ended up coming in like, a minute due to his lack of stamina.

Wait, and I'm complaining about this why?

So, anyways, back to now with us standing in front of my parents, reeking of sweat and come, wearing nothing but barely-hanging-on boxers and our asses throbbing - all because we decided we should have one last fuck of the weekend before my parents got home because who knows when we were going to have the chance to do it again (okay, so like, tomorrow after school). So we were literally coming for the 3845743875438th time this weekend, like minutes before my parents walked in the door, not really leaving us anytime to get cleaned up, let alone shower. And knowing my luck, I probably have some dried up come I missed on our thirty second cleanup job somewhere noticeable on my body.

My mom takes one last look at us before she's shaking her head, that half-smirk still hidden on her lips as she goes, voice a mix of amusement and annoyance, "Go take a shower boys."

We don't need to be asked twice before we're dashing up the stairs, faces burning.

- - -

Any ounce of hope I had for people leaving us alone is quickly ruined. Tuesday morning, when Ryan and I arrive at school, matching limps and all. Not that it isn't completely our fault though, because really, that's just asking for it.

However, Ryan doesn't seem to care. He walks down the hall, his head up in the air (while limping like he's got some ridiculously huge stick shoved very far up his ass) completely ignoring any names thrown in our direction - I mean, he doesn't even flinch. For a second there, I seriously wonder if he's just not hearing all of this, but when we reach his locker, he rolls his eyes and calmly states, "God, some people are so immature."

I blink, and seriously, who is this and what the fuck happened to Ryan Ross?

He looks up at the clock hanging on the wall, just across from his locker and sighs. "There's only a few minutes to the bell, you better go before you're late."