AnimeCon Harem Pt. 03 free porn video

Sliding a pair of oversized sunglasses down from her forehead, she glanced up from her phone towards the enormous AnimeCon banner strung up in the crisp morning air. It was just after daybreak, and drivers were already struggling to navigate the busy streets, searching for parking areas with a rare empty space. The sidewalks were flooded with foot traffic by now, anime fans and cosplayers moving in a steady stream around Chloe and her trailing companion, flowing towards the convention center’s entranceways.

A ruffled beige halter top showed off Chloe’s delicate shoulders, and a tiny pair of denim cutoffs, fluffy-white at the edges with frayed ends, drew ample attention to her long legs. Her dark brown hair was carefully styled into a messy ponytail that draped down across one shoulder, while an overstuffed drawstring bag was slung over the other. Overall, her figure made a rather remarkable, almost picturesque impression. She would have been a beauty without compare… if not for the contemptuous sneer that puckered her upper lip.

She was here for a reason, of course. It wasn’t by accident that her breakup with Brian had occurred right before AnimeCon—which Brian looked forward to all year—and it was also no coincidence that the usual group of friends they attended with were nowhere to be found this time around. Her goal hadn’t actually been to break up with Brian at all; there was no reason to throw away all the effort she’d put into shaping the course of the relationship to her needs. The plan was, rather simply, to break Brian.

A proper baptism, Chloe thought with a malicious smile. Back when Brian had begun working longer shifts, she’d taken advantage of his every absence in their social group to sow subtle seeds of discord. I’m his girlfriend, after all. I’m entitled to speak for him on his behalf. She’d casually dropped comments that Brian was fed up with someone, or sick of the way a certain somebody acted, discreetly driving wedges between each of them and her boyfriend. After months of carefully unravelling and disassociating, she managed to isolate him from his friends with a clever divide of misdirection, fabricated excuses, and outright lies. When he was finally alone, backed into a corner, and pushed to the limits of frustration and loneliness he could endure, she would arrive to save him, to reshape him into the man he needed to be.

All he needs is to learn his place… to accept a pair of firm and intelligent hands at the reins, Chloe decided with a chuckle. He won’t stress that little head of his guessing what might make me happiest, until by some chance he accidentally gets it right. From now on, what I say is what goes, with no room for doubt or arguments. Things will be so much easier. For both of us. Cramming her phone into the back pocket of her cutoffs, she turned to regard her companion for the morning as he finally caught up to her.

“Ok[/i]aaay[/i]—what’s so funny?” Ryan’s voice had an expressive feminine lilt, emphasizing his words with changes in pitch rather than volume. He was that bisexual coffeeshop-boy, the hipster mister with pretty-boy features. He wore blue flannel and skinny jeans, had big, pouty lips, and clear blue eyes. This week, he sported a stylish crop of bleached-blond hair, still tinged with the faded remnants of multiple pastel colors, and the gauged earrings stretching his earlobes featured iconic Hello Bunny motifs.

“You, that’s what,” Chloe replied in her best cutesy-voice, that nauseating kind of intimate dialogue she knew couples used with one another. “We’re finally here! I thought you’d be more excited, sleepyhead.” She’d weaned Brian off of this kind of treatment early on in their relationship, lest he think it was acceptable for him to reciprocate, but some insipid endearment now was tolerable… a necessary sacrifice. She wouldn’t be using Ryan for much longer anyways. This was fine.

“How do anime conventions even start so early? Six-thirty in the morning?? Like, how do they even?” Ryan muttered in bleary disbelief, reverently lifting the coffee cup to his boyish face and taking another sip. “I can’t wrap my head around people getting up this early if they’re not getting paid for it. Like, this is a choice. All these people right now made a choice to be awake for this. Oh my God, this coffee though… this coffee is my life right now.”

Yeah, well—you’re just lucky that I hate driving through city traffic, Chloe thought to herself, or you wouldn’t be that necessary here after all. At best, the only other real purpose Ryan even had was inspiring fear and jealousy, showing Brian just how easily replaceable he was… just how little individual value males held. However, at the rate her patience with Ryan was thinning, he might never even make it that far.

“Aw, poor baby,” Chloe instead cooed in a saccharine, sing-song voice, before allowing an inkling of impatience to seep into her tone. “But hurry up a little, please? All of these people in front of us are going to be getting into the line for badges ahead of us. The line on Saturday gets to be hundreds of people long… okay?”

“My bad, my bad, geez,” Ryan laughed. “I mean we’re not even inside the convention yet, and my legs are already tired. We just did like, nine city blocks.”

“We wouldn’t be walking so far if you’d parked closer,” Chloe reminded him, struggling to keep frustration out of her voice. Even that idiot Brian was more thoughtful and accommodating than this.

“And pay fourteen dollars for day parking?! Uh, nuh-uh. That’s insane. Insaaane,” Ryan grumbled, shaking his head. “This is all crazy, really. I mean, not the anime fandom thing, I’m totally about that life. But the traffic, the costumes, the crowds, getting up this early for it, dropping all that money on parking and badges and whatnot… it’s dedication. It’s dedication and I’m impressed. My hat is officially off to all of you people. Aw fudge, I left my hat in the car…”

Chloe rolled her eyes, and considered increasing her stride and leaving him behind then and there. Brian may have been the typical misogynistic sub-human male, but at least he wasn’t also a melodramatic clown like Ryan here. I thought it’d be fun hanging out with a bisexual guy, but no, it’s literally the worst.

The effeminate way Ryan acted seemed unnatural, exaggerated to her, as though he were actually mocking women, and over the course of their trip she’d gradually grown more and more irritated with him. When gay or bisexual guys emulate the mannerisms of the fairer sex, is it cultural appropriation? I think I may have just found the perfect title for my next big Nibbler rant.

Saturday was the convention’s biggest day in terms of both events and attendees, and as ever, the turnout was staggeringly impressive. Many were dressed in casual geek attire—simple T-shirts or hoodies emblazoned with anime logos—but there was an abundance of cosplayers as well. Some came wielding enormous prop weapons, others were making last-minute adjustments to brightly-colored wigs, and still more jockeyed for position in group photos in front of the convention’s gigantic banner. There was everything from flocks of simple schoolgirls to lone dragon knights in intricately-detailed armor, and the crowds pouring through the entranceways and into AnimeCon formed a discordant mess as anime fans arrived from all over the entire coast.

The pavilion hosting the convention was bright and open; the interior was several stories tall, with an artfully designed lattice of skylights and steel girders forming the roof high overhead. The grandiose arrangement of the concourses between the convention halls, and the enormity of AnimeCon’s main lobby itself would have seemed excessive—if not for the fact that many areas were already filling to capacity.

The convention was positively teeming with activity, and as they worked their way throughout the mob and inside towards the ominous sight of the registration line, Chloe was disgusted to notice that the trend towards skimpy outfits had certainly continued. Walking just ahead of them was a young woman cosplaying the Sweet Fairy from Labyrinth Chef, and she was wearing a sparkling bodysuit fitted so tightly to every contour of her asscrack that nothing was left to the imagination. A trio of western superheroines in daringly high-cut spandex were strutting and striking sexy poses for cameras, and over there was an airheaded-looking girl dressed as Akane Kurokawa chatting with a group of nerds—seemingly oblivious to the fact that her tits were nearly spilling out of her loose yukata every time she laughed.

Used goods whores trying to out-slut each other for attention, same as last year, Chloe thought, making a noise of disgust deep in her throat.

“Okay yeah, damn,” Ryan mouthed dramatically as he squinting towards the banners above the registration tables across the convention hall. They were tiny, barely-visible blips in the distance past the crowds. The row of fans and cosplayers queuing up there for their convention badges was comically long, stretching several thousand people and encompassing the full length of the enormous lobby. “Are we gonna be waiting to get our badges for hours? This is insane.”

“Usually I’d have my pass pre-ordered,” Chloe griped, glancing about as they shuffled into the ranks of the line. “My ex was all nitpicky and meticulous about that kind of stuff. So I mean… yeah, I guess we have to wait this time.”

“Bet you’re relieved to be all free and single now, though, huh?” Ryan asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh my god, you have no idea,” Chloe whined, rolling her eyes. “Everything always turned into such an argument with him. It’s like, hello? I have feminist studies and statistics that scientifically prove that I’m right. In fact, if you’re trying to argue with me instead of listening obediently until I’ve finished, and then asking if I’d even like to hear your stupid, unwarranted, sexist opinion… you’re already wrong.”

“Oh hey look, isn’t she that one guy from Shinobi Souls?” Ryan asked distractedly, pointing over towards a girl wearing bushy false eyebrows, a fake beard, and scale-mail armor fashioned out of throwing stars laced together. “ How long do you think it took her to make that, huh? That’s freakin’ amazing. She’s supposed to be, uh… Saburo, right?”

“Yeah, Saburo,” Chloe judged, not giving the girl more than an indifferent glance. I’ve seen better.

“Hey, are you gonna be cosplaying too?” Ryan asked, gesturing with his cup towards her bulging drawstring bag.

“Ehh, no, not this year,” Chloe lied, shifting the bag further behind her. “Last year, I was Hera, though. Hera from HellState?”

“Is that the one where it’s like, religions versus government?” Ryan wondered aloud as he scanned the crowds for more cosplays he might recognize. “But like, they’re actually fighting it out with guns and stuff?”

“Yeah, sorta. Guns and magic. Hera’s the one that—”

“Uh, wow, toxic masculinity much?” Ryan scoffed, nodding towards an enormously muscled bodybuilder wearing a horned helm and a leather kilt. The giant man was walking parallel to the line, heckling the attendees in an obnoxiously overdone Austrian accent.

Just gonna interrupt me and talk over me, huh? Yeah, cool. I’m just a woman, feel free to stifle my right to speak up, Chloe glowered, giving Ryan yet another red mark in her head.

“I hear people ask, Brick-cloud, how I become great like you?” The barbarian in the horned helm called out as he passed their part of the line. “I tell you how you become great like me. You preorder convention pass and walk proud instead of stand in line like wimpy cabbage-eater.”

Aw, Chloe thought as she watched Ryan’s scowl in amusement. Is the scrawny little boy feeling all jealous and insecure when he sees a muscular manly man? Pathetic…

“Ugh, he’s right, too. If only I’d known to preorder…” Ryan grumbled. “Next year for sure, though…”

“Well anyways, speaking of toxic masculinity, get this,” Chloe began, toying with her hair. “My ex, that Brian, I found out a few months ago that he was still standing up to pee. Yeah. In this day and age.”

“…Standing up when he pees? Is that…?”

“Yeah. Instead of sitting down to pee like a normal human being, he’s apparently been just like, standing there, spraying piss through the air, like an animal. And just hoping some of it winds up in the toilet, I guess. Uh, hello? We all have to breathe this same air you’re pissing through? It’s unhygienic. It’s so unhygienic, there’ve been studies. I mean, you don’t try to pee while you’re standing up, do you?”

“Uhhh, well yeah that’s one thing, but I’m not sure that’s really toxic masculinity,” Ryan deflected, sipping his coffee. “Toxic masculinity is like, gender attitudes that—”

“That’s not the point,” Chloe snapped. “And you don’t get to decide how to define toxic masculinity. Men don’t—”

“Toootally do,” Ryan disagreed. “English major! BA-zing! Deciding how best to define things is like, my life.”

“Yeah, well… whatever, then,” Chloe frowned, crossing her arms. What machismo bullshit. His first reaction isn’t to support me, to complement my words and ideas. Or even to just listen quietly, fucking appreciate what he could learn from the valuable new perspective I present. No, just like Brian, instead he ’considers things objectively’, which is nonsense. ’Considering things objectively’ is just that man-splaining way of saying that their narrow, pre-programmed, male worldviews are too tiny to be challenged by progressive new ideas.

And to think… I’d hoped you were going to be different somehow, Chloe sighed, looking at Ryan again and realizing he really didn’t seem nearly as handsome or progressive anymore now that he’d just about outlived his usefulness. But, on the other hand, maybe that’s really the one saving grace males actually do contribute to society… the fact that they’re so expendable. Sorry, Ryan. As a single-use, disposable boyfriend… you’ve served out your purpose, and that’s that. Sorry… no, not sorry.

“Hey… yeah, um, I’m just gonna freshen up rea—lly quick,” Chloe laughed, abruptly excusing herself. “Keep this spot in line for me, ‘kay?”

“Uh yeah, cool. I’ll probs still be right here at the rate this line’s moving. Hurry up, though! I need someone to talk to, or it’s weird,” Ryan called, his voice already fading as she darted away through the massive gathering of people.

As if I’m going to wait with you in line for an hour like a moron, Chloe strode on, rolling her eyes. I have a badge already, a three-day pass. Brian is just… well, he’s holding onto it for me. Would’ve still had the damned thing if not for that little goblin’s meddling.

Brian’ll already be back in my arms by the time you get here, Emily. Aww, too bad. Can’t wait to see the look on your face when you realize that he’s still mine. This time, I’ll have broken and tamed him, and then he’ll always be mine. You never had a chance. What’d you think, that you could just swoop in and pick up the pieces?

He’d never have any feelings for a weird little girl like you anyways, Chloe decided, smiling to herself. She’d always thought Emily’s little crush on Brian was cute, in a rather pathetic way. After all, if Brian had ever shown any real interest in that little girl, Chloe would’ve called the police and reported him as a pedophile, or some kind of child predator. So what if Emily’s twenty-three now? She’s five-foot-one and barely has an A-cup, so hello? She practically has the body of a thirteen-year-old, and that would basically still make it a crime.

Fuck, Chloe gritted her teeth as she arrived at the nearest restroom. Too crowded. A dozen girls, in staggered groups of ones and twos, were entering the ladies’ room, while another seven or so were coming out. She’d hoped arriving so early would give her some space and privacy at a mirror to get into her cosplay, but chances of that now looked slim. Chloe was, of course, anxious to get dressed, because now her costume would be just as much a disguise; she’d look nothing like she did when she waltzed into the convention this morning, rendering her safely anonymous and preemptively avoiding any more awkward encounters with Ryan.

How long will it be before that queer even realizes he’s been ditched? Chloe wondered. She turned on her heel and headed away from everyone, a long trek down the convention center’s concourse all the way from AnimeCon in convention hall D towards the next one over, hall C. Last year, when AnimeCon had been adjacent to a national cheerleading tournament, this area had been a sea of already-stuck-up-looking teens and tweens in uniforms being ushered about by coaches and parents. The horrified, shocked looks they’d given the anime geeks had been oddly satisfying, but it looked like there was no tournament here this year.

Chloe smirked, letting her mind wander back toward Brian. Her plan was going off without a hitch. She was going to accidentally run into him somewhere at the convention today, and he was going to be a miserable, despondent mess. How couldn’t he be? The love of his life packed up her things and left without saying a word. Except for that one stunted little sycophant, just about all his friends are now estranged and distant. His eagerly-anticipated little AnimeCon event has instead become a live-fire exercise in depression and loneliness.

But darling… now I’m here, Chloe mocked in her head. The textbook carrot and stick approach; I’ll be the one to comfort him, to end this farce of a break-up and accept him back when he has nothing, no one else to depend on. At just the right moment, of course; when he’s at his absolute lowest. Emily may have planned to show up, to be there for him on Sunday, but by then it will be too late. Brian will have already desperately grabbed onto this one last lifeline I offer him. He’ll cave, he’ll capitulate, he’ll completely submit himself to my rule.

Most of their local convention group had been goaded into believing that Brian had issues, so dissuading each of them from the trip this year hadn’t taken much work. She’d taken special care to mention to everyone that Brian had pretty much lost interest in attending AnimeCon with their local group, even hinting that he was too embarrassed to cosplay anymore since he’d put on weight and was too pudgy to fit into his old costumes now.

Hah, as if. He wastes an hour every morning jogging, and spent hours every weekend trying to work on his new costumes. How retarded is that?

But regardless, everybody bought it. Everyone except Emily, that wretched little goblin, Chloe remembered, scowling. However, with word going around that their convention plans had fallen through this year—and more importantly Chloe deleting Emily’s insistent pestering asking him about it from Brian’s messages—the obnoxious little runt had finally seemed to concede and let the matter drop.

Mike and Will, Brian’s awful, misogynistic ‘guy’ friends, were disappointed that the annual group outing wasn’t happening, but just as quickly made new plans for that weekend, out riding drakes, which from their posts on social media had something to do with dirtbiking through the woods and coming out scratched and bloody. Idiots. Of course, if Michael wasn’t going, then his girlfriend Tanya had no reason to call off work so that she could tag along.

Mark actually was still going to AnimeCon, but if previous years were any indication, his support or interference would be a non-issue. He wouldn’t leave the confines of the gaming room where the Mana: the Mastery game tournaments were being held, trapped by his own obsession with those stupid cards.

Of the three Beccas, Becky had disappeared off with a new boyfriend, while Hipster Becca had gotten herself involved in an artsy summer film project. Only the weird one, Rebecca, had been too socially removed to not take the hints, but even then she was probably only attending Sunday because Emily needed a ride.

Next year, it’ll only be [i]my friends coming with us to the convention. Monique and Tom. Britta, myself, and Brian. Maybe Amy?[/i] She pondered for a moment before mentally excluding Amy. No, not Amy. Can’t have too many white girls in our group, or we won’t look very diverse.

This year, hall C appeared to be in the process of setting up for some kind of business expo, but there were only a handful of people in suits around, and none accosted her as she made her way to their nearest restroom.

“Alright. Time to transform!” Chloe exclaimed upon entering the empty restroom, unable to stop herself from striking a dramatic pose for a pre-costume selfie. There was, however, no following whimsical makeover montage of colored light and sparkles. Instead, she wrenched open the mouth of her drawstring bag and squeezed and pushed that bulging bag inside-out until it vomited its contents out upon the faux-marble of the sink’s vanity.

Unrolling her costume and separating her wig pieces from a cute anime handbag and her makeup case, she began to change. Her comfy flats came off, followed by her halter top, and with a practiced flick of her thumbs her brief denim cutoffs dropped down her lovely legs to the tile. Practicing a demure smile in the mirror for a moment, Chloe proudly admired the graceful lines of her body. Rather than underwear, she wore her camisole-style gymnastics leotard from dance class, which perfectly accentuated her lithe figure. Besides, it was in a nude-colored beige that would be unnoticeable under her costume.

She then stepped into a pair of buruma pantsu, which turned out to be a rather plain pair of Japanese sport panties, and pulled them up to a snug fit with a satisfying snap of elastic. After that, she pulled her sailor fuku on over her head. It was a stylized version of the naval-style Japanese school uniform; the blouse had a traditional blue sailor collar that tied into a bow, and for the sake of simplicity, the accompanying pleated blue skirt was directly affixed to the bottom hem with a line of stitches. Her costume shoes were blue ballet slippers with ribbons that wrapped about her ankles and then laced up into decorative bows.

Leaning in close to her reflection, she began sectioning off her dark hair into ring curls; twirling lengths of hair around her finger, then quickly rolling them up and pinning them close to her scalp with bobby-pins. In this way her untidy mane of hair disappeared, portion by portion, into tight little bundles about her head, and she had the whole mess fitted securely under a wig cap in no time at all.

Then she donned the most complex part of her outfit; her monstrous three-part wig. The main part was a short blonde hairpiece, front bangs pre-styled with spray, while the weave of strands in the back were pulled tight towards two clip points. There she would attach her pair of twin-tail wig pieces, her ‘drills’, which were basically elaborate extensions, big and exaggerated fluffy ringlet spirals of blonde hair that gave the illusion of enormous, needlessly complex anime-style pigtails.

She’d put circle lenses in earlier this morning, contacts that gave her bigger blue pupils, so now she brought her makeup case into play to finish the job. Liquid liner formed a thick black line along her top eyelid, and she drew with her white eyeliner pencil along the entirety of her lower lid, exaggerating the size of her eyes. Finally, false eyelashes were glued into place, an easier ordeal than one would expect as she positioned them well outside her lashline to make her eyes seem ever so subtly larger.

Tweaking the hidden wires that kept her pigtails in their distinctive ‘drill’ shapes, Chloe formed a sweet, coquettish smile, and posed in the mirror for several follow-up selfies. Virtually any anime fan would recognize her as Himari, the princess of justice who was immensely popular in the past decade. Magical Doll Himari was basically the leading series of the magical girl genre in the States, and, of course, as the sexy main character, she was any male otaku’s wet dream.

“Yeeeah, I’m kawaii as fuck,” she decided, satisfied. Besides, I look amazing, and no one has the right to tell me what I can and can’t wear. This wasn’t about slutting up or being objectified, of course—she’d simply planned to wear a costume Brian had never seen her in before, and moreover, one he would never expect to see her in. Typically, Chloe cosplayed emotionless and grim characters like Hera Victoria, a dark-haired professional assassin who wore a stately gray pantsuit and dual-wielded a pair of magical handguns. By comparison, Magical Doll Himari was a bright, fluffy, and naive character—there was no way Brian would recognize her at a glance. She would rightfully be in control of their first encounter here today.

Pushing her lips out in an exaggerated pout and flashing her fingers in a ‘V’ for another costumed selfie, she thumbed out a few lines and a handful of tags for her social blog on Nibbler.

♡ at animecon figuring things out!! remember that each and every day is full of blessings!!! love you all!!! ♡

#cosplaycutie #excited #imsuchanerd #animecon #magicaldollhimari #relationship

Nibbler’s loading screen played for a moment, a stylized animation of minnows poking at the silhouettes of junk discarded in water, before it indicated a successful post. Chloe stared at it expectantly, not lowering her phone until she’d gotten her first nibble from her followers.

She’d ‘posted a bit’, which counted for an eighth of a byte; each nibble she got counted as a half-byte, and every byte she accumulated would move her up the daily rankings on the indie micro-blogging site and increase her popularity. There’s tons of Himari fan rings on Nibbler. Maybe a flood of new followers will help commemorate today?

She tucked her oversized sunglasses into one of her flats and her makeup case into the other, rolled the flats up in her jean cutoffs and then her halter top, and finally fit the small bundle neatly into her anime handbag. The cheap drawstring bag she haphazardly tossed towards the restroom wastebin on her way out. She didn’t really need it anymore—it had been Brian’s in the first place anyways.

I can’t wait to find him, Chloe thought as a disdainful smile formed, all anxious and unsettled. Will he even bother wearing that stupid new costume he was so excited about, or has he just been sulking and pouting all weekend? Can’t wait to see him… with all of that stupid, stubborn resolve of his emptied out. Will he even be able to make eye contact with me?

I can’t wait for his apology. For whatever weak, empty male discourse of excuses that half-cooked slab of meat he calls a brain has come up with over the past week. Can’t wait to see him finally swallow all of that stupid, bull-headed masculine pride, discard all of his oh-so-clever little ‘logical arguments’, and simply accept his proper place. Can’t wait to see him begging me to take him back!

Oh, of course I’ll take you back, darling. But on my terms. I’ll rescue you, the emotionally impotent man, from your pitiful, lonely circumstances. But you’ll be making some major concessions this time around… we’re no longer going to pretend to be equals in this relationship. This break-up was your wake-up call, your reality-check.

She was really looking forward to seeing the effect this little bit of honest suffering had on Brian. How it improved his temperament, how much more receptive to her instruction it would make him. To Chloe, this whole ordeal was an important lesson in humility he was long overdue in learning.

Stalking her way confidently back towards Hall D, she glanced at her phone and realized it was still earlier in the morning than she’d thought. Still no reply, huh? Six forty-five AM… you’ll be out already then, doing that useless morning jog of yours, like the clockwork little automaton you are. Yeah, keep trying to outrun your problems, Brian. They’re always going to catch up with you.

• • •

Stephanie’s blue eyes fluttered open to first see a soft pink tangle of hair spreading across her pillowcase, and for a moment she simply stared, lost in sleepy confusion. Then she lurched up rigidly in alarm, brushing those brightly-colored locks out of her eyes, and surveyed her surroundings. This… isn’t my dorm room. That’s right, I’m at the convention. I’m in—I’m in Brian’s hotel room!

Last night, the small hotel room had been lit by the intimate illumination of the end table lamp, a warm and cozy light. Now, the muted white daylight seeping around the edges of the curtain revealed what seemed an entirely different room, disorienting and unfocused. Did all of last night, that game, Brian… going down on me, did that really happen?

Brian was already gone, his absence forming a conspicuous valley in the covers between Stephanie and the shape of another girl at the other side of the bed. That’s right… he was in the middle—Kelly was very insistent about that. Did he already leave for his morning run? Stephanie wondered. The last thing she remembered before drifting off to sleep was cuddling up beside him in a daze of contentment.

Letting out a cute yawn, Stephanie flopped back down again and clumsily rolled to slap a hand towards the nightstand, grasping for her rather plain pair of glasses. After carefully donning them, she sat up and looked around the room as if to confirm that all of the blurred fixtures had appropriately sharpened to waking clarity.

As she turned to regard the other remaining occupant of the small room, Stephanie frowned. Something was off, looked ever so subtly different, and after a moment of observation, Stephanie realized that now all of Kelly’s makeup was gone. Without cosmetic emphasis, her resting face seemed lovely rather than sexy, and it struck a chord within Stephanie. The girl’s neatly coiffured scene hairstyle was now an ordinary mussy tangle, and her serene expression, her unguarded posture; all of it made her appear more natural, seem more real.

Even beneath it all, without all of the makeup and style, she’s still just so pretty, Stephanie thought—but rather than envious, she felt oddly proud of her new friend.

“Kelly? Are you… are you awake?” Stephanie whispered softly across the bed. “Kelly? I think… I might be in love with him.”

For a few moments she thought Kelly might have actually been asleep, but then the dark-haired girl stirred and turned to make a face at her, eyes still closed. It was not the face of someone who enjoyed mornings.

“Steph. You’ve only known him for one day.”

“I-I know,” Stephanie hurriedly said, her face flushing red. “I know. That’s why I said I think I might be instead of I am, and really… that’s why I wanted to talk, if that’s okay…?”

Kelly snorted, rubbing her face blearily, and sighed into her pillow, laying still long enough for Stephanie to wonder if she’d simply decided to go back to sleep.

“Okay. So, talk, then,” Kelly finally grunted, leaving her eyes closed. “Why d’you think you’re in love with him? He that good with his tongue?”

“I…I, uh…” Stephanie tried to begin, before realizing that while she had a million things she needed to say, she didn’t know how to put any of those feelings properly into words. It’s so much more than that… “Because I’ve never felt this way before—”

“Hah.”

Realizing how cliche she must have sounded, Stephanie hurriedly continued, “And I, uhm, I want to keep feeling this way. This, uh, the way he makes me feel, I want to always feel this way. I, I… don’t want to go back to the way it was. I can’t go back.” I need him. Maybe… maybe I’ve always really needed him.

“You’ve got a crush on ‘im,” Kelly murmured into her pillow. “S’your first guy ya did things with. S’a crush. That’s all. Chill out and go back to sleep.”

“Oh,” Stephanie breathed, frowning, and felt disappointment sink deep down into her. It’s just a crush… “What does… does it, uh, b-but what does this really… mean? What should I do?”

“Ugh, Steph,” Kelly grumbled, sounding aggravated. “You know the phrase, ’love at first sight?’ Well, it doesn’t mean love, it means infatuation. It’s… you know, hormones and chemicals, endorphins and shit going on in your brain, in your whole body. It’ll go away eventually. Always does.”

“Wh-what if the feeling for Brian doesn’t ever go away?” Stephanie asked, a little appalled. The attraction is strong… overwhelming, even. But, isn’t there also more to it than that? So much more?

“Hell if I know,” Kelly said, nuzzling deeper into her pillow. “Getting yourself all hung up on just one guy? Sounds like you’d be totally fucked, then.”

“Fu—?” Stephanie bit back the word and tried to continue. “Uh, h-how so?”

“Calm down, drama queen,” Kelly muttered reassuringly, pursing her lips to blow errant strands of her hair out of her face. “You’ll be fine. It’ll go away.”

I don’t want it to ever go away, Stephanie already knew. What if… what if I’m already totally… fucked? She adjusted herself in the covers, laying down on her tummy this time, and hid her uneasy smile into her own pillow.

“What… should I do?” Stephanie wondered aloud.

“Beats me,” Kelly said. “You’re on your own. And I mean, you’re really on your own. I’m bailing on you guys—I’m gonna find someplace else to crash for tonight.”

“Wha—you’re, you’re what?” Stephanie sputtered, and rose up onto her elbows, a little shocked.

“I said, I’m not staying with you guys for another night. I’m gonna find somewhere else, some other room.” Kelly clarified, turning away from Stephanie to lay on her side, giving her the shoulder. “You’re both on your own from now on.”

“D-did something… um, is someth—anything wrong? Do you have to leave?”

“Hah. Well, you see, last night, after our little game, after we got all settled in and cozy under the covers together… he held my hand,” Kelly scoffed.

“He held your hand?” Stephanie asked, feeling lost.

“Okay, so he was in the middle, between us, right? I was gonna just, sorta… let my hand wander over, see if anything came of it, you know?” Kelly grumbled. “But nope, no dice. He takes my hand, stops me, just fuckin’ holds it. I’m giving him a look, like, seriously? And he sorta glances back at me, like he thinks I’m just kidding around. I was like, dork, I am not playing. I will fuck you.

“Didn’t actually say anything, though. I was all so hyped up and, I dunno, expecting things, that I was kinda laying there in disbelief, I guess. Waiting for him to make up his mind, to make a move, or something.” Kelly muttered. “And before I knew it, the both of you fucked off to sleep. I was pissed. Still am pissed. And I don’t even know why anymore, like, what did I even expect from you two dorks?”

“We, ah, it was… I’m sorry,” Stephanie managed, embarrassment burning across her cheeks. To be honest, Stephanie barely even registered going to bed last night. I was so out of it, I went out like a light after… after we… “Y-you really can’t stay with us?”

“Look, sorry, but I’m frustrated,” Kelly continued in a sigh of sulking resentment, and she flipped back the bed sheet in vexation. Beneath it, she was wearing the same black tank top she’d worn last night. “I didn’t really sleep, because I was so… frustrated. You know? I barely slept, and takin’ a shower while you two were all passed out didn’t help me cool off any.

“And I tripped over someone’s bag over there in the dark trying to see the mirror a bit,” Kelly hissed. “If one of you guys’ over-stuffed fuckin’ bags has a big ol’ foot-sized fuckin’ angry dent in it, s’your own fuckin’ fault. Fuck.”

“S-sorry,” Stephanie meekly apologized again, unsure of just where she’d left her travel bag as they were settling in last night. It was all still a blur to her. “That was maybe—um, might have been me. Er, mine.”

“It’s fine, whatever. I’m just… ugh. Just really not used to getting myself all worked up for somethin’, all night long, and then not getting any attention. I know, I know, I was tryin’ to help you guys out, but… well, fuck. I have needs, too. I don’t wanna get all pissy and wind up being a moody cunt to you guys all day, so… I’m gonna split.”

“Oh,” Stephanie managed, not knowing what else to say. “I just, I mean, I don’t think I can thank you enough for what you’ve, uh, the ways you helped. I never could have called, could have asked him if we could… It’s—I, well, I can barely even talk to p-people most of the time.”

“Yeah—I noticed,” Kelly remarked in a dry tone.

“An-and, that kind of… um, intimacy last night, getting there wi-with someone on my own, it was just, it’s… it’s always been so far out of my reach,” Stephanie explained helplessly. “If you hadn’t been here… I would have just been my, well, me. My same, u-uh, usual boring self. And nothing would have happened, n-nothing would have changed. And now—now everything’s changed. Do you really have to go? I just, I wish you would stay…”

“Yeah? Well, gimme a reason to,” Kelly challenged.

“I feel like, like all of us were having fun, though? I don’t think that it’ll… um, that things will keep, ah, being like they have been, fun like they have been, without you here,” Stephanie admitted, trying not to sound unappreciative. “Oh! And there’s also that little, um, promise you made…”

“Promise?” Kelly huffed. “What promise? What, that I’d wear his stupid goth dress?”

“The promise that, um, you know… that sometime this weekend, all three of us were going to…?”

“…Going to fuck?” Kelly finished for her, twisting the sheets about her legs in surprise as she turned and rose up on one elbow to face Stephanie. “Uh, that was a secret… not a promise. Why, you wanna make it a promise?”

“O-oh, right,” Stephanie said, visibly flustered. “It was… just a secret. But if—I mean, does that—”

“Do you really… want that? I mean, I figured… well, it means Brian wouldn’t just be with you?” Kelly interrupted, a gleam in her eyes. “You, well… are you okay with that? With sharing?”

“I don’t see how that’s, um, up to me to dec-decide? He doesn’t belong to—”

“Look, are you gonna get all hurt and jealous if… no, when me and Brian happen to get intimate?” Kelly bluntly asked. “And by intimate I mean we’re going to fuck. Some really rough, loud and possibly violent sex.”

“I d-don’t think so,” Stephanie answered, staring intently at her fidgeting fingers as her face flushed red. “I, um. Think you might be meaning passionate rather than, ah, rather than intimate. I never really thought that I would—uh, d-do that, it’s not an… expectation that I ever really had for myself, s-so it’s hard to feel… upset about it. I did get a, a weird feeling, um, down in my stomach, when I—uh, when you had me watch you two kiss, last night, but I don’t think it was jealousy…”

“Like… a horrible, crushing feeling that made you feel like, y’know, breaking down and sobbing?” Kelly asked.

“N-no, no, nothing like that. It was, um, I… I almost joined in,” Stephanie confided, averting her eyes. “L-like you’d suggested, to try a, a th-three-way kiss. I, I didn’t, though! It was just a passing thought, an interesting, um… I don’t know. I’m blabbering. Sorry.”

“Okay then,” Kelly mused, her irritated expression with the morning finally giving way to a thoughtful one. “I’ll make ya a deal. You help me out this teensiest little bit, and I’ll stay—and I’ll even keep playin’ matchmaker. Then tonight, maybe, we’ll both get everything we really want. Sound perfect?”

“Everything we want?” Stephanie repeated, startled. “That’s, um, th-, it’s not just, uh, not just up to me? Not just up to us? What about what Brian wants?”

“Oh, we’ll get to that part, trust me, and then some,” Kelly chided, giving Stephanie a clever smile. “But what do you really want outta all of this?”

“Me? I think I want… more,” Stephanie admitted slowly, sounding guilty. “But not, um, not just… s-sexual, uh, things. Al-although I think… maybe I want that, too? I just, I don’t want it to end here. I want to have him, and for him to have me, however he wants—or, or what-whatever that ends up meaning. I want to be amazing like he thinks I am. I want to, to show him how amazing he is to me.”

Kelly let out an exasperated sigh, quirking her lip into a faint smile. “Sounds like you’ve got it bad, huh?”

“I-I do? It’s just, it’s, um, it’s scary. Does he, uh—I don’t know if he feels the same way, the way that I do, though, exactly,” Stephanie stammered. “I-I mean, he, he seems interested, but then he seems so reluctant, too—”

“Well, there’s all that, you know, weird shit with the relationship he just got out of… he like, doesn’t want to put all of that on you.” Kelly pointed out. “And he knows you don’t have any experience with this kinda stuff. You’re one of the reasons he’s holding back, you know?”

“That’s part of it, I think,” Stephanie realized, taking a deep breath. “I don’t want to be a problem, or, or a reason that he has to hold back, I don’t like that, I—I can’t stand that. I want to—I want to be the reason why he can’t hold back. Does that… make any sense? I… want him, all of him. I really think that I love—”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” Kelly interrupted quickly, an undercurrent of excitement appearing in her voice. “Yeah, you know… I could stick around, maybe, and we can make all of this happen. I could make sure it does, in fact. But… you’ll have to do something for me, too.”

“What do you need?” Stephanie asked, showing an earnest face full of determination.

“I’m frustrated,” Kelly mused. “And I’m sure as hell not gonna help out any more when I don’t know for sure if there’s, any, y’know… satisfaction comin’ this way. So, I want a little proof of your resolve, I want you to prove that you’re willin’ to put in some effort, too.”

“Okay, what do I do?” Stephanie asked breathlessly.

“Whatever you want,” Kelly instructed, wetting her lips. “When I get close… surprise me. Do you remember the way I was kissing you last night?” The dark-haired beauty drew her fingertips down the length of her own neck, watching Stephanie’s expression with slightly dazed eyes.

When she gets close? Surprise her? Stephanie thought to herself in dismay, conflicting emotions resurfacing all over again. Close to what? Close to me? She wants me to… maybe to express my feelings in my own way, and… impress her? But… just what are my feelings? What should I do here?

Kelly’s other hand innocuously drew the bed sheet back up across herself, as if to regain some modicum of modesty, and alarm bells began to go off in Stephanie’s head at the sheer incongruity of it.

What is she… Stephanie wondered, but then Kelly began to act, in a slow, sensual motion, a slight exhalation of breath, and a subtle shifting of the sheets. Oh. OH.

Feeling blood rush to her face, Stephanie finally realized exactly what it was that Kelly was doing. With the outline of Kelly’s arm was making in the blanket, trailing down to the juncture between her legs, there was really no mistaking what kind of itch Kelly was scratching. She’s… oh my God, she’s… masturbating. Right here. In front of another person—right in front of me!

There were sounds besides the increasing tempo of Kelly’s breathing… wet sounds. Feeling the mixture of shame, fascination, and excitement gripping her as she watched, Stephanie couldn’t look away. Stephanie was sure she wasn’t gay, but the sight had butterflies beating anxiously in her tummy all the same. That’s what she meant about… getting close. It’s what I felt in the shower, that sensation I wasn’t quite able to reach on my own, that maddening feeling, that something tangible just outside of my grasp. Then she wants me to…?

Stephanie blinked in surprise, doing a double-take and then unconsciously leaning in to peer more closely at a sudden discrepancy she’d just noticed amid Kelly’s dark hair. Three long strands stood out in a vibrant red color, starkly contrasting the girl’s loose tangle of fine black tresses.

“Kelly…!”

“Hm? What now?”

“Kelly, your, uh… did you always have color here in your hair?”

“Well, h-hahh, s’not natural, if that’s what you mean,” Kelly replied with a breathless laugh, letting her fingers rest for a moment. “Think it’s like, colorsilk… midnight black or something. Why, are my roots showing?”

“N-no, no,” Stephanie insisted, “I mean, um, color. BRIGHT color. Like what’s been, uhm, what’s happened to my hair.”

Jolting up in alarm, Kelly flung back the sheets and pulled locks of dark hair before her eyes, sifting through the strands. “Are you fucking serious?”

Before Stephanie could form a reply, Kelly pushed up and off the bed, making her way over to the mirror above the sink.

“Uh, K-kelly, where are your pants?” Stephanie stammered out, catching a startling glimpse of the scene girl’s naked butt before she could look away. “Wh-where is your underwear?!”

“In the sheets somewhere?” Kelly answered. “Did you do this? Did you—did you guys mess with my hair?” She singled out the strands of bright red and turned towards the girl on the bed with a grave expression on her face.

“No,” Stephanie said, quickly averting her eyes again. She’s… she’s shaved bare down there, it’s…

“Did Brian do this? When did…. what’s going on?” Kelly grumbled, turning back towards the mirror. “Seriously, what the fuck, this isn’t funny. How long’s it been like this? Was it like this last night?”

“I-I don’t know,” Stephanie said. “I, uh, I didn’t notice anything, but I wasn’t paying much, um, I-I was… distracted, and the room was, it was dark…”

“This isn’t possible,” Kelly decided out loud. “You were blond enough that your hair can take color, like, right away. I’m not. You’d’ve had to like… bleach out my dark first, and then have color set in my hair for… it’s impossible. I was awake most of the goddamned night, and even still, I would’ve woken up if you’d… There’d be a chemical smell, an ammonia… it’s… it’s not possible.”

“M-maybe some, uh, stain from my hair spread out and… rubbed off in yours… somehow?” Stephanie offered bleakly, inspecting her pillowcase for any colorations.

“Yeah, uh, no,” Kelly refuted right away. “Your hair isn’t stained with sharpie anyways. We threw that theory out last night, remember?”

“We did?” Stephanie asked, confused.

“Yeah. ‘Cause it wouldn’t really explain why your carpet matches your drapes, now, would it?” Kelly growled.

“It’s… what? Carpet… matches my drapes? Wh-what do you mean?” Stephanie asked, looking uneasy.

“The hell do you think I mean?! Take a look, down there,” Kelly suggested, slapping water from the faucet into the red strands of hair. “Your little, uh, tuft down there is pink now—just like all the hair on your head? You’re one-hundred percent pink now, even your brows.”

Stephanie reluctantly pulled upon the elastic of her pajama pants to take a peek inside, finding her sparse thatch of pubic hair was now the same shade of bright pink that had spread across her head.

“Oh my God, it’s… it’s pink. Wh-when did… why is it pink?”

“It’s really more of a red,” Kelly argued, leaning in as close as she could to the mirror and dabbing water from the faucet. “This stuff really isn’t coming out. Fuuuck. How bad does it look? Is it bad?”

“N-no, I meant, um, me. I’m pink,” Stephanie stammered, dumbfounded. “I’m pink down—”

“Uh… yeah, we saw that already. Last night after he… uh, well, how much of last night do you even remember?” Kelly asked.

“Y-you saw?” Stephanie’s hands went to her face. “Uh, I remember that he, um… H-he—”

“Ate you out?” Kelly suggested, working the red strands of hair between her fingers. “Licked and spit your lickety-split? Frenched your fissure, made out with your muff? Cleaned your cla—”

“St-stop, stop, please,” Stephanie protested, pulling the comforter over her head for a moment in embarrassment. “Yes. I… I remember. I do remember that. I remember.”

“So what, Brian has like, the Midas touch? Whatever he kisses really does pop into technicolor? The Midas kiss?”

“Maybe?” Stephanie frowned. What would that mean we’re turning into? “Did you, um… feel anything strange when Brian kissed you last night? Like a weird sort of… heat?”

“Well… I guess so. It was definitely strange, yeah,” Kelly admitted. “Not bad strange. Like, good strange. REALLY good strange.”

“Y-yeah,” Stephanie breathed in agreement, running her hands through her own pink locks nervously. Good strange. REALLY good strange. That seems exactly right. “But, well, wh-what should we—”

“Well, I’ve definitely gotta try kissing him again, then,” Kelly proposed, turning her head at an angle again in the mirror so that she could see the strands of red. “Right?”

“You, uh, is that… a good idea, though?” Stephanie said cautiously. “I mean, we, um, we don’t know what’s—”

“No, I mean, just look at it. It’s not bad for a little splotch of color, but it’s all too small, and too far back. If you’re gonna have bright accents like this, you have ‘em like, right up beside your bangs, or down here as peekaboo highlights,” Kelly said, draping her hair in front of her shoulder and tugging on the tips for emphasis.

“I… I guess that makes sense?” Stephanie sounded unsure.

“Yeah, it totally does. You didn’t think it’s just ‘cause I wanna make out with him, did you?” Kelly laughed, rolling her eyes. “I mean, like that would even factor. He’s just a cute guy who’s also fuckin’ amazing with his hands, you know. That’s all. It’s not like I was even paying attention when he had you squealing last night. Yeah, that didn’t even register. I’m just testing out this hair theory, Stephanie, this is for science.”

“I squealed?!—W-was I squealing?” Stephanie squeaked, slapping her hands over her face.

“Mm-hmm. How was it, by the way? He made you cum, right?” Kelly’s eyes flashed, and she arched her back, skimming her fingertips along to trace the silhouette of her own naked hips. “And that’s only the beginning. The things we can still get up to this weekend… well, don’t’cha get all wet just thinkin’ about it?” The scene girl’s bare skin seemed perfect, and her body was exquisite, but what Stephanie found herself admiring even more was Kelly’s confidence in so brazenly displaying it all.

I need—I need to stop gawking and actually get up, Stephanie thought, pointedly ignoring Kelly’s question and kicking back the comforter to finally hop out of the bed herself. There was a strange, uncomfortable tightness in the muscle of her inner thighs from spreading her legs open for so long last night.

“C-can you put—put your pants on, please,” Stephanie stuttered out.

“Yeah, whatever,” Kelly sighed, crossing the room to fish her pants off the floor beside the bed.

“Wh-what about your underwear?” Stephanie asked as she watched Kelly begin to tug the black skinny jeans up her naked legs.

“These?” Kelly asked, picking her panties out of the sheets and flinging them to a corner beside the bathroom door. “What about them?” I’ve got a spare pair in my purse, obviously.”

“But, you’re um, not going to wear them?” Stephanie asked pointedly. And who’s supposed to pick up that pair you threw?! What if Brian sees them?

“Nah, think I’ll keep ‘em handy, instead,” Kelly explained, fishing a tiny bundle of black string and elastic out of her purse and waggling it. It took Stephanie a moment to realize that what Kelly held was not a hair-tie but in fact a very skimpy pair of panties. Is that a g-string? “Easier for me to… you know, give him the key to the city this way, if you catch my drift? He can start a l’il collection.”

Because he already has a pair of mine, Stephanie remembered, feeling the blood rush to her face. I wonder what he’ll even do with them? After that game of truth or dare had ended, she’d put just her pajama pants back on, a realization that was making her self-conscious all over again. She was going as commando as Kelly was at the moment.

“Well, anyways, we need to get to the bottom of all this hair color nonsense, and figure out what’s really going on. How ‘bout a little kissing? At least… for starters,” Kelly suggested.

“Kissing Brian?” Stephanie asked. “But won’t that—”

“No, I mean, we can just kiss each other now, can’t we? Something weird might happen, right? For all we know, you could be the reason it happens. Don’t we need to experiment a little bit if we’re gonna figure this out and solve this mystery? And don’t you still need to hold up your end of our little deal?”

“K-kissing?” Stephanie choked. “But we’re both, uhm—we’re both girls.”

“Yeah?” Kelly smirked. “Is that a problem? Didn’tcha say when we played the game that you weren’t against kissing another girl? What… were you lying?”

“I-I wasn’t lying, I just, I’ve never—um, I’ve only kissed one Brian. I mean, one person. Brian before. I’ve only kissed one person before. And it was Brian.” Stephanie struggled out, terribly flustered.

“So, what, even after everything, am I no good?” Kelly challenged, giving Stephanie a playful pout. “You’re okay with kissing girls, just not me? Last night, when I proposed that three-way kiss, I only even brought it up ’cause I was… thinking of you. Do you really not like me?”

“D-don’t do that, please,” Stephanie pleaded.

“Do what?”

“What you’re, um, what you’re doing,” Stephanie said. “I-I don’t like it. I’m not against k-kissing you, I guess. I’m, I’m just… scared, not stupid. I don’t like it when you pretend—uh, when you twist all the words to get things the way you want them. It’s, it makes it, I—I get even more uncomfortable. I’m sorry.”

“You…” Kelly began, but the seemingly limitless reservoir of smartass remarks she was so used to relying on had abruptly run dry, and no words came out of her open mouth. She took a step closer to Stephanie.

“It’s not you!” Stephanie hurriedly explained, a trace of panic appearing in her eyes. “It’s, my anxiety, it—”

“No, you’re right,” Kelly mused, the hint of a smile flickering across her face as she seemed to regard Stephanie in a new light. “I keep forgetting, I guess, that you’re not just… well, that everybody has their reasons, I ‘spose?”

“I d-didn’t mean that I don’t—”

But a hand had already found its way around the back of Stephanie’s fluffy pink head, and the shy girl was unable to finish as Kelly pressed in and stole her lips.

The abrupt moment was nothing like the kisses Stephanie had shared with Brian. The other girl’s face was so much smoother, her lips softer, almost pillowy, even—but the biggest contrast was a subtle flavor of impatience that came across. All of it was nice, it felt good, in a way that was making that glow of warmth rise up within her, but that startling raw need she felt from Kelly was just such a marked difference from Brian’s steadfast and cool kiss. The butterflies she felt within her tummy were frantically beating their little wings in flickering flashes of pink and red, and Stephanie rocked unsteadily on her feet.

Sucking me in… It was as though there was an empty space, a void existing within this girl, a vacuum tha