Bitch, I Love You - Sex Stories

Bitch, I Love You

... porno."

"Right?"

"Fuck, dude. Who gets bored of hooking up? We really are hoes."

"You know what would actually work?" Heather said. She rolled onto her front to look at me. The pages of her book crinkled angrily, but she ignored them. "You and I, we like the same shit. You could give him pointers! Like on a voice call."

I crossed my arms. "That sounds fun for one of us."

The pen came flying back at me. "Fine, bitch. Video. You can watch."

"Now it's a threesome, with extra steps and I have to make myself cum."

"It's my first time with him, so you'd have to do it yourself anyway-- if you were there, I mean," Heather said.

"Fuck. Hoeing is a lot of work."

This time it was Heather who broke the contemplative silence. "You know. I'd probably be okay with it."

"Okay with what?" I asked.

"You being there."

"Like, a threesome?"

-----

It turned out that deciding to have a threesome was the easiest step in planning one.

Heather slid her binder over to me. It was flipped to a mostly blank page, just a penciled line down the middle. It was a very straight line. Heather was tucking a pink half-ruler back into the pocket of the binder.

"Mr. Rider, will you present first, please?" Professor Cole said.

A mousey guy in an oversized hoodie popped up from one of the middle rows. He walked up to the front of the class and fumbled a flash drive into the computer.

Heather wrote 'Mickey' on the paper. She worried her pencil eraser against her ...

... bottom lip a few times before writing '3' on the other side of the penciled line.

"The fuck is this?" I whispered.

"We're rating them. You know, one to ten."

I wrinkled my nose. Bouncy blond curls, sporty yet curvy, and expensively dressed, Heather had always been one of the pretty girls. At least, that's the impression I'd built since rooming with her freshman year. I did like Heather. She was probably my best friend at school. But sometimes the privilege showed. "Dude. This is some real high school bimbo shit," I said.

"Don't be like that. This will help us find our ideal hookup."

"Well it's not going to be Mickey."

"Duh." Heather circled the '3' for emphasis. "Look, with this system we can find the guy we both agree is the hottest, who's also in our range."

She pushed her pencil at me.

I couldn't help myself. I put a '5' on Mickey's line. "What? He's kinda cute. Pretty sure he showers. And it's not like we're going to settle for five."

Heather considered and then, with some gravitas, revised her '3' to a '4'. Then she wrote 'Mel' on a new line. That's my name. Short for Melly, which is short for Melanie, both of which make me want to puke. Though I tolerate Melly in special circumstances. Notably, my mom and Heather.

"No way. You first." I gave the pencil back.

'Heather' and '7' appeared on the line below my name.

I put an '8' next to mine.

"Bitch," hissed Heather.

"What? I'd give you an 8 too."

"Aww." She updated her official ...