Page 72 of Bad for Me

I think about my friend who studied Astrology when I was in college, a topic that was wildly misunderstood and disliked. Was that considered Witchcraft?

I left the church feeling even more confused than I originally had, wrapping my arms around myself.

As I started my car, I looked at the passenger seat where Mary sat just the night before. A small, silver charm in the shape of a rainbow nestled in the seam of the leather bucket seat. I grabbed it, shoving it into my pocket.

It seemed I had another excuse to be alone with her again.

Witchcraft.

12

BAD GIRL

Mary

When she calledme over to her after gym, I didn’t know what Coach Kelly had in store for me. Part of me was thrilled either way, the bratty side of me doing somersaults at the prospect of another tongue lashing. But then something pulled at my heartstrings—probably her tears from the other night—that pulled me back to reality.

“I have something you may want back,” she said coyly, and held her down-turned fist out to me.

Her office was small, but large enough to house two large bookshelves and an overstuffed chair sitting in front of the large desk. I held out my upturned, open palm, and she dropped a tiny silver charm into it.

My charm bracelet was old, and something I had cherished since the day my father gave it to me. Now, Mom bought me a new charm each year to add to it. Each year and each charm had a significance—usually relating to whatever struggles we had been through that year. The tiny rainbow I held in my palm was the charm Dad had given me right before he left.

My throat felt tight, as if I was just kicked in the gut, and I walked to the other side of her desk, plopping down into the overstuffed chair on the other side.

I turned the tiny charm over in my palm, staring at it, swallowing hard until I felt I could speak again. “Thank you.”

I brought it to my chest, holding it close as she observed my face.

She leaned on the side of the desk where I sat, bracing her hands behind her.

“Perhaps you could return that moment of vulnerability from the other night in the car…It might make me feel a little less pathetic.”

I looked up at her full lashes, casting shadows on her cheeks as she smiled down over me. I wanted to push her back onto the desk, run my tongue from her neck to her cunt. I wanted to lay her out naked before me like a feast, and mostly, I wanted her to open to me until I knew every scar, every sore she ever held.

I hold it in though, even if a year ago I’d’ve done just that. Today it felt cheap, tawdry.

“My father gave me this before he left us…”

Now my eyes rimmed with tears as I looked up at her. And she does something I never would have expected.

Her hands tangled through my hair, tugging my face to hers. The kiss was hungry, aggressive; and as her tongue found mine, a small moan escaped from her throat.

Her pleasure unleashed something inside of me, something that had been dormant for too long, and I grabbed her face in return, pulling her deeper as if it wasn’t enough to just taste her mouth.

I needed to taste her cum, too.

She dropped to her knees, still kissing me, our lips sliding over one another in slippery bliss.

Jerking my head to the side by my hair, she whispered, “Are you bare again?”

I bit my lip, nodding, feeling my insides clench with need. I was getting everything I wanted.

It was finally happening.

She moved behind me in the chair, kissing slowly down my neck and ending at my ear. Snaking a hand down my front, she trailed manicured fingertips over my tits, down my belly, and over my thigh. My skin prickled, goosebumps erupting all over my body.

“Do you think you can take whatever you want, Mary? Is this what you wanted? Me touching you like this?”

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