MnC15

Let's spice things up

-Hmm-

I couldn't have a day without her by my side, no, literally, every day we were together, there wasn't a day where we didn't see each other.

While I was a plebeian in high school, she was already striking it big in college.

Still, don't understand why she took English rather than Math, I mean if you saw her grades you'd be blown away.

Time was precious to us, education separated us daily, but once things were done, we would take long walks, going into malls and relaxing in our neighborhood plaza.

Star gazing was one of the many moments I enjoyed with her, I like how the grass would become our bed for the evening. Sometimes, if we're lucky, we could catch a shooting star, you'd guessed it. We wished.

I still wished for the exact same thing.

For months we got closer to each other like never before.

Just imagine a lot of kinky stuff between us okay? I'm not good with sensually writing these kinds of scenes, but, I'll try...

Up and down, my hand went wild on her aching body, rain barraged the roof to mask our pleasurable chatter. The pressure was building up in my head, all I could see was her ass on my lap, rocking the boat. I felt nasty and slippery, every push was a token of moans from her, I intensified the air between us, pulling her deeper into oblivion. Her mind was melting, submitting herself completely to me.

Her body gave, twitching and stuffing on top of me, she was drained, now a flop of what was once an energetic girl. The rain slowly recovered from its orgasm, and we laid there, soaked in our own satisfaction.

Phew! Got that out of my "system" (pun intended)

This went on for quite some time, different styles, in different erotic ways. Thankfully we weren't caught by her parents, that would have been disastrous!

-Programming vs Arts and Crafts-

I played the Devil May Cry series, God of War series, Final Fantasy series and my personal favorite, Chrono Trigger. And a lot more.

Eventually, I moved from the "what" to "how", that's when I thought myself how to code.

My first personal projects were games for our monthsaries. Took me half a month to make them and wrap them up so she could play them.

When we exchange, she would give me these amazing handmade creations, a book comprised of our pictures together, a box, containing a secret compartment to hide a new set of headphones, and a house like box that, once opened, breaks into separate parts with different pictures, drawings and messages from her, not to mention the fact that she made cookies that looked like brownies, in the end, I dubbed them connies. A jacket, some slippers, some underwear and a variety of other gifts every month. And all I could give was just a game...

Should have learned cooking... Yeah, should have.

It was hard for me to find a place to put them on because they were just too awesome to set aside.

We shared mutual tears. Every gift gave us memories worth cherishing. It was a different kind of sweetness, but it was one I was proud of doing.

-Harsh Reality-

Every story needs a conflict, right? I'd say ours was harsh, especially me, knowing how evil I am.

Every time she invited me for dinner in her house, I could see all the awards she won piled up on a wall, her grandmother would talk hours and hours about how her other niece became such a success story. How she finished college with such high grades and landing a job on good old U.S soil.

The pressure was on her, knowing she was next in line. That's why they always fought.

I personally don't like sets of papers on my wall telling me how a success I am, I prefer posting my creations, reminding myself how I've grown throughout the years.

Her grandmother was an aristocrat in nature, I couldn't intervene even if I could, I had no right.

For once, I felt like her knight in shining armor. I was to comfort the soul tortured in the clutches of expectation, I was to save the drowning one from the sinking sands of depression, I had to become her shield, to protect her from the incoming storm of pain and suffering.

Yet, as I looked in the mirror, I saw no knight, no shield, and sword. Only a tainted hooded figure with malicious eyes staring back at me.

She hung to me like a child under punishment, I saw the yearning in her eyes, she hid it under a veil of sarcasm.

That's when the villain in me started to form, I pressured her to stop what she was doing, limited the time we could spend together, and forced her to live lonely nights once more.

She fought back, demanding me to stop, I knew I couldn't convince her physically, so I targeted her habits and crushed them.

I showed her that no knight is real, that nobody will ever save her from her tower, at least, not me, or anyone else.

I showed her no mercy, proclaiming she will always be like she is now. But, at the end of every proclamation, I always told her that I was no savior, only a person who would understand.

It's time for the rising action to close in for the climax, and no, I'm not punning sexual jokes anymore.

Let's go for the next one, but this time, the winds have changed.