MrD: I’m certain there are other girls at FHS who would make my generous gift worthwhile.
MrD: Double-team or tag team?
BadApple: double
MrD: Describe in detail, please.
Gross.
Maybe that expired ravioli wasn’t such a good idea. My stomach churns as I slowly start typing out what he wants to know, wondering if this makes me some kind of prostitute after all. It’s like working for one of those phone sex hotlines, except I’m texting it instead of saying it aloud.
When I finish, he doesn’t answer for about five minutes. I try not to picture a gross old guy masturbating while he reads it, but I keep seeing Mr. Behr in my mind, the way he’d stop what we were doing to jerk himself off for a minute every time he started going limp.
I get up and throw a handful of antacids in my mouth, chewing them as I return to the computer.
MrD: And then what?
BadApple: Thats all I saw.
MrD: That’s a tease.
BadApple: Wut
MrD: You stopped before they came.
BadApple: I didnt c that part. U asked what I saw, not for me to write u a jerkoff fantasy.
MrD: Were you aroused?
BadApple: No and again not relevant
MrD: Watching 2 attractive men fucking a young girl in every hole didn’t get you wet?
BadApple: This isnt the arrangement
MrD: Just wondered if you were masturbating and that’s why you didn’t watch them come.
I think about lying to him. What would it matter? He won’t know any different.
But again, why even do this shit if I’m not going to fill him in? I might as well make it all up. Eventually, he’ll catch on, and there goes my scholarship.
BadApple: I was interrupted
MrD: By what?
BadApple: Royal
MrD: What happened?
BadApple: He kicked me out of the neighborhood and threatened to rape me if I came back.
MrD: lol
I stare at the screen, the little blinking cursor. It’s not like I’ve never heard a rape joke before. But damn. That’s cold.
I have to remember that this is a real person. There’s a guy on the other end of this communication, a guy who might be a pervert or a rapist or who the hell knows what.
MrD: How’d he seem?