Art college final project? Sometimes you play it safe, sometimes you make an ex tape.

1 – Introduction

“Lights, camera, action!”

*Clack*

Oh. My. Fucking. God.

How do you end up in a frat house bedroom with a guy you just met thrusting hard into you, his cock pounding into your pussy over and over again, so deep that you feel like you're about to break? Except you like it. You want to break. You want him to keep going until you cum, and then he cums, except, no, he… he can't do that. Not like this. Because…

There's not enough time to explain any of that. I can't tell you the reasons. Trust me, that's coming later. Oh, yes…

Fuck! Yes!

I grab his sides and my nails rake rough across his skin, leaving jagged red lines. He pins me to the bed, holding my hips tight, thrusting into me again and again.

“I knew you wanted this the moment I saw you at the party,” he says, grunting.

I nod and whimper, agreeing with him. Except, um… the thing is…

I didn't? He's just a cocky jock, one of those assholes I never wanted to involve myself with. Yeah, he's hot, I'll give you that. He knows how to use his cock, too. Not only that, but I can't help but think this must look amazing. If someone were watching us, that is. It's just the two of us, alone in a dark room, rutting like wild animals. I sneak my hand between my legs and continue what I started earlier before he rudely interrupted me. My fingers tease my clit and I cum easily.

I was almost there before. On my own. I snuck into this room because for some reason I've been insanely fucking horny lately. I know why, but… again, that's coming later. I'm in the middle of something right now.

This is how it happened. I came to a frat party with some friends, but they ditched me. Caleb tried to hit on me, but I rejected him. I mean, I tried to reject him, but look at what the fuck I'm doing right now. I guess I did a bad job, huh?

Everything was too much. Seeing other couples dancing and grinding, alcohol destroying everyone's inhibitions, it just sent me over the edge. I came into this empty bedroom to try and ease some of that tension away. Privately, I might add. I closed the door, laid on the bed, lifted up my skirt, and started to bring myself to a quick orgasm so I could get back to the party and concentrate.

Nothing is ever that simple.

Caleb, the guy who tried to pick me up earlier, followed me in here. He stood in the doorway while I masturbated alone in a dark frat house bedroom. He unzipped his pants and stroked his cock while I had my eyes closed. I was thinking of him, too. I was thinking of the cocky, arrogant football player that just wanted to get in my pants. Or my dress. How the fuck does that work? It's one of those.

Lost in thought, not even really realizing what was going on, I vaguely remember being so very very close to orgasm when this prick came up to me, grabbed my legs, pulled me to the edge of the bed, and then slammed his cock deep inside my soaking wet pussy in a matter of two seconds flat.

Do you know what that's like? To be close to orgasm, to think that you're alone in a room, and then someone surprises you and suddenly you have a cock inside you?

I didn't. Now I do.

I have conflicting feelings, but I'm not going to lie to you.

It feels amazing. It feels so fucking good.

“I'm… I'm close,” I whimper, loud enough so you can hear me.

“You're so tight,” he says, slamming deep inside me. “Cum for me, Scarlet. Cum for me. Right now!”

I do. I can't help it. I can't stop. I cum in a writhing, wriggling mess on the bed and just as I start, he roars and releases inside me. Our orgasms mix, a perfect combination between two writhing bodies. I feel his warm, sticky cum pushing past all my defenses, guided further by my own orgasm. I clench and squeeze and moan out in lust as he cums over and over again, driving my own orgasm to deeper and deeper depths.

It's like I was made for this. We were made for this. I couldn't stop it if I tried. I just couldn't, and I don't want to, and…

*Clack*

“Cut! Great scene. Let's finish up with some artistic visuals of the aftermath like what's in the script and call it a day.”

2 – Scarlet <<< REWIND

That's not the beginning. It's not even the end. If you want me to be completely fucking honest with you, that's not even what this story is about. It's a movie, and it's what I want you to see. The real story is what happens behind the scenes. It's the truth and the reality, and it's really fucking hard to deal with sometimes.

Caleb's my best friend and he's the boy next door. Literally, he lives next door to me. I mean, we're in college now, so…

Actually, scratch that. Now he goes to the college next to mine. It's not the same as before, but he's still right next door.

So why are we fucking? What the fuck kind of question is that? Calm the fuck down and let me get to it. I'm starting at the beginning!

Alright? Yeah, so here we go:

This isn't actually the beginning. You're going to have to get used to that. It's just important, and maybe it'll help explain some of the shit that comes later. Or before. Fuck if I know. My story isn't done yet.

Here's a picture for you. It's the beginning of a memory from a few years ago.

I'm sixteen here and my dad's passed out in the living room of our shitty house. He never does anything anymore. I don't know why I'm saying he doesn't do anything anymore, because I can't remember the last time he did anything. Our house is trashed, but not a good sort of trashed. Not even a bad sort of trashed. It's full of despair and depression, which is a lot to deal with when you're a teenage girl.

I can't. I literally can't deal with it and I never have. That's why I'm rarely home. That's why I'm doing what I'm doing right now.

I doubt my dad even cares, so I don't know why I'm sneaking around. I stuff some clothes into my school backpack along with a pair of pajama pants and a pure white t-shirt. I've got everything I need to go to school tomorrow. I guess a lot of people would think I'm the kind of girl who ditches school constantly, but that couldn't be further from the truth. I love going to school. It's not easy, and I'm not exactly the head of my class or anything, but I love it. I love being somewhere else. I love being somewhere different.

I tiptoe down stairs that always seem to creak a little too much, then past the open living room door. The hallway is clear, but the living room is filled with remnants of takeout orders far past their expiration date. A pile of five different pizza boxes sits on the coffee table, surrounded by Chinese food containers and three large bottles of soda, only one of which has anything left in it.

The only thing from today is the pizza box on top. My dad lays on the couch, sleeping, the TV blaring loudly in the background. He has a ratty old brown t-shirt on, with a piece of half-eaten pizza laying on his chest. His eyes are closed and he's breathing loudly. He might snore. I don't know. I'm never around long enough to find out.

I sneak down the hall to the kitchen. The kitchen is surprisingly clean. Mostly because no one uses it. And by clean I mean it's not filled with leftover food from one or two weeks ago. It's just empty. If this were a few years ago there'd be plates piled up in the sink. Somehow I convinced my dad to start using paper plates since it's easier to clean up.

I don't think he did it because of that, though. He did it because he just doesn't care. It's not that he doesn't love me. I don't actually know if he does. He doesn't hate me. He just…

I don't know. That's a story for later.

I open the backdoor slowly and sneak out into a cool summer evening. The sun just set and the sky is still kind of light out. It's not a sunset or anything, but it's that faint dark blue with a hint of light that tells you the sun exists, but you don't know where it is right now. It's gone, fallen behind the horizon, and nothing you can say or do will make it come back unless it wants to. You just kind of hope and pray that it shows up the next morning.

I close and lock the door with the spare key hidden in a fake rock by our overgrown garden. The backyard is a jungle of tall grass and weeds. Someone comes and mows the front yard just to keep the neighborhood looking good, but I don't think my dad asks them to and I'm positive he's never paid the man. I asked him once why he comes and he just shrugged at me, like, why not?

I'm going to pause this for a second. I know you probably think this is depressing. I'm not trying to ruin the mood here. I never really thought about it before. It's just how I grew up. Everyone grows up differently, and if you look back on your life you can probably see how some things you thought were completely normal are actually really fucking strange.

I'm not trying to be depressing here. I'm just telling you about my strangeness, the same as you probably have your own strangeness. We each have our own stories and they're beautiful in their own ways.

This story is beautiful to me even if you can't see it yet.

Yeah, so…

I sneak through the tall grass and weeds that make up my backyard. There's a fence separating our yard from the neighbors yard, but I made some modifications long ago. It's nothing fancy, but a few of the wooden slats push back and I'm small enough that I can slip through and into the neighbors yard.

It's like an entirely different world over here. Neatly trimmed grass, a small vegetable garden in the far corner, and a row of flowers on the other side. In the back of the yard, perfectly centered between the vegetables and the flowers, is a small swimming pool. It's nothing huge, but it's big enough that you can relax and enjoy yourself and swim around a little.

I move like a stealthy fucking ninja, sneak sneak sneak, following the fence between our houses. I dip low beneath a window, hiding in the shadows. A light's on inside, but I don't see anyone when I peek in.

Good. I don't want anyone knowing I'm here.

When I get to the garage at the side of the house, I stop. With my backpack slung over my shoulder, I climb a spare ladder they usually leave outside for random housework. It's not even big enough that I can climb all the way on top of the garage, but it's close enough. I grab onto the roof of the garage, barely manage to swing one leg over, and I pull myself up.

Slow and steady, I crawl across the roof to the lit window on the other side. Up one slant of the roof, carefully sliding down the other, and then I'm there. I peek in the window and see him sitting on his bed doing homework.

I don't even knock or anything. I just push lightly on the window and slide it up. It's unlocked and opens easily. I swing my backpack off my shoulder, toss it into the room gently so I don't make too much noise, then I climb in after it.

The boy sitting on the bed stares at me and shakes his head.

“You know you can just come in the front door, Scarlet,” he says.

“Shh,” I say, hushing him. “Don't make too much noise, Caleb.”

“My mom and dad literally don't even care,” he reminds me. “They told you where the spare key was and they even offered to give you an extra one.”

“It's not the same,” I tell him. “I'm being a fucking ninja.”

“My dad left the ladder out there so you could climb on the roof of the garage,” he says.

“Did he?” I ask. “Or… did I secretly convince him to leave the ladder there without him realizing my true intent?”

“You're weird.”

“So are you!”

I close the window behind me and shuffle through my backpack. Pulling out my pajama pants and my pure white t-shirt, I hold them up for Caleb to check out.

“What do you think?” I ask him.

“Uh, cool, I guess?” he says.

“Caleb, they're supposed to be cute,” I tell him. “Real fucking cute.”

“You can change in the bathroom if you want,” he says, nodding towards his bedroom door.

“Is anyone else upstairs?” I ask.

“Yeah, my dad's in his office. He's doing some late night work for the campground. He wants to plan some renovations this summer.”

“Got it. Close your eyes?”

“Uh… why?” he asks, one brow lifted.

“I can't change in the bathroom, Caleb. Your dad will know I'm here. I'm just going to change in here.”

“Scarlet, this is really–”

I shush him and start to take off my shirt. Caleb holds his notebook up to his face to block his view and he grumbles at me. I guess that's that. I wonder if he's going to take a peek, though? I don't think I'd be upset if he did.

I slip out of my regular clothes and into my pajamas quick, then I hop on his bed. I pull the notebook away from his eyes and he just shakes his head and groans at me.

“Shut up,” I tell him. “What are you doing?”

“Homework,” he says. “I thought it was obvious.”

“Caleb, that stuff isn't even due until next week. Why the fuck are you doing it now?”

He shrugs. “I don't know. Because. Why not?”

“You should be doing stuff,” I say to him. “Um… other stuff. Like flirting with girls or something. Do you have a girlfriend? Any dates or whatever coming up? How's your Friday looking?”

“Scarlet, I don't have a girlfriend. I think you'd know if I did. I haven't asked anyone out on a date. I thought we were going to go to the movies on Friday. That new one is coming out. You know the superhero one with the trailer we saw the other day? I'm pretty sure we talked about this.”

“Oh,” I say. “Yeah. Huh.”

“Is that why you came over here?” he asks, pure skepticism on his face.

“Do I need a reason to come over?” I counter.

“Not really.”

“Exactly!” I say. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” he says. “What's up?”

“Have you ever had sex with anyone before?”

“Uh, what?” he asks. “What are you talking about?”

“Caleb. Sex. Have you had sex with anyone before? It's not a hard question.”

“Scarlet…” he says, offering me a confused, sort of worried look. “Uh… I mean… I feel like you should, uh… no?”

“You feel like I should know?” I ask. “Dude, that's not really an answer.”

“I meant no,” he says. “No, I haven't had sex with anyone.”

“Oh,” I say. “Yeah, that's cool.”

He doesn't ask me if I've had sex with anyone before. I think he probably already knows the answer, but I'm too afraid to tell him.

P.S. I haven't.

It's not like that's a bad thing, but I'm sure a lot of people at school probably think I have. I'm the kind of girl that people just expect has had sex. No fucking clue why. I get into trouble sometimes, but I'm not sure why that means I should be out having sex with some guy or a bunch of guys or who the fuck knows. That's just stupid.

“Why are you asking?” Caleb asks me.

“I don't know,” I say with a shrug.

“Oh,” he says.

“Hey, Caleb?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you want to have sex with me, then?” I ask him. “Like, as your first time, you know? Just to um… not to get it out of the way or anything. I don't mean it like that. I just mean… you know… I won't judge you or anything. Even if you only last five seconds, it's cool. I don't care.”

It'd be my first time, too. I don't even know how long I would last. How the fuck does that work? How long do people last? Fuck. I wish I knew more about this. That's sort of the point of what I'm asking, though. Caleb and I can figure it out together.

“I… I think that's probably a bad idea,” Caleb says, unsure.

“Why?”

3 – Caleb <<< REWIND

This is a bad idea. That's how it always starts with me and Scarlet. I used to tell her it was a bad idea, but I gave up after awhile. There's no point. I know she's going to do it.

I guess the worst part is I always go along with her, too.

I think I know what you're going to say now. Are you a pushover, Caleb? Why do you always give in to Scarlet?

The thing is… I don't? I mean, not really. It's not like that. I've spent so much time with Scarlet over the years and done so many things with her that I can't imagine not being with her if that makes sense. Whether it's a bad idea or not, I want to be there to…

I don't know. I'm not sure what I'm trying to tell you right now. I just want to be there. If it's a bad idea, I want to be there to help her when everything starts going to shit. Or maybe we can turn it into a good idea. It's not like a bad idea has to always be bad, you know? Sometimes the worst ideas turn out alright. Sometimes they aren't as bad as you thought.

Or they're worse. That's the other option. I've dealt with that before, too.

I just wanted to tell you this. I'm not saying it makes sense. I probably shouldn't have agreed to some of the things I agreed to do with Scarlet. I did it, though. I'll probably always do it. Don't put words in my mouth or thoughts in my head about why I act the way I do around her. I already know why. I think I do, at least.

By the end of this story maybe you'll know why, too.

So… looking back on it, I can safely say that I definitely said:

“I… I think that's probably a bad idea.”

And Scarlet counters with, “Why?”

“Why's it a bad idea if we have sex?” I ask her. “I mean, isn't it obvious?”

“No,” she says. “Not to me.”

“Uh, we're friends, Scarlet? Friends don't have sex with each other.”

“Who says?” she asks. “What about friends with benefits? That's a thing, you know?”

“Yeah, I guess it's a thing. I'm just not sure it's a good thing.”

“Caleb, I'm not saying we need to do it all the time. I'm just saying we can do it once. To get it out of the way for you, except, like… different. I just don't want you to regret it if you have sex with some other girl for your first time. What if she's a huge bitch to you? Like, for example, what if you have a weird shaped cock? And she's all, holy shit, Caleb, why's your cock shaped like that?”

“Yeah, so… I don't have a weird shaped cock,” I tell her. “Sorry to disappoint you there.”

“That was just an example! I didn't mean it literally. It could be all sorts of shit. Who the fuck knows? I'm saying I won't judge you.”

“Scarlet, seriously, this is just a–”

And then she's taking her shirt off. Her glasses get caught in it and she struggles for a second. She grabs her glasses and practically shoves them on my bedside table, then removes her shirt the rest of the way. I sit in bed next to Scarlet while she just kind of sits there in pajama pants and a bra.

“Are you going to take your shirt off too or what?” she asks me.

“I thought I was pretty clear before,” I tell her. “Can you put your shirt back on now?”

“No,” she says. “We're having sex. It doesn't have to last that long. Let's just get it out of the way.”

“I really don't think it's something we should get out of the way like that,” I tell her.

“Alright, so you want to go at it for awhile?” she asks. “That's cool. We can do that if you're up for it. I didn't want to put any pressure on you, Caleb, but–”

“Yeah… that's not what I meant, either.”

Except them she's scrambling with my belt and my pants. They're off before I can really do anything about it. Or that's what I want to tell you, except I don't know if I'd do anything about it either way.

Like I told you before, this isn't the first time I've told Scarlet this is a bad idea. I know for a fact it's not the last time, either. It'll never be the last time. There'll always be another time.

Considering we were in high school for this part, I'm going to leave the rest up to your imagination.

Don't worry, though. There's plenty of juicy details for later. I mean, Scarlet did convince me to make a sex tape with her. She says it's a creative art project, but seriously, how does that even work?

It's porn, Scarlet. We're making a porno. We're having sex. On camera. And people are going to watch it.

Uh…? Fuck! People are going to watch this? I didn't think this all the way through.

Maybe I shouldn't tell you the rest of what happens.

~*~

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