â Q U I N N â
Fetish is more than just a simple attraction; it's a symbol of something deeper, often connected to the hidden parts of our minds. It's like artâit lets us explore parts of the world that might otherwise feel off-limits.
Some people's fetishes are simple and harmless, while others can be strange or even unsettling. I know mine falls into the category that many would see as twisted, perhaps even dangerous and forbidden. Yet, it's something I deeply craveâsomething I yearn to see and to experience.
As the class wrapped up, Professor Brown spoke to the room. "Before leaving, I encourage everyone to check out the Arts exhibit on the ground floor. The Arts department has displayed our students' work and more," she announced.
I stood up, gathering my things, and made my way toward the door when I heard her call my name. "Quinn Grey," she said softly as I passed by. I stopped and gave her a blank look, showing no expression. She reached out and brushed her fingers along my arm.
"No, bitch," I whispered, raising an eyebrow.
She smirked, chuckling under her breath. "Are you mad because I nailed my interpretation of your work, Quinn?" Her eyes held mine, defiant.
I shot her a hard look. "You're lucky we're in a classroom with all these students around, or I might just choke you right now, Professor."
"Well then, go ahead, Quinn," she taunted. "Grab my neck, feel it. I know you want to." She was unfazed, still wearing that smug expression. My gaze flickered from her face to her neck, and I could see her pulse, tempting me. My jaw tightened, fists balled up as I tried to keep my composure. With one final look, I turned and walked out before I do something I couldn't take back.
As I reached the ground floor, I noticed a few people wandering through the art exhibit. With time to spare, I decided to step inside and take a quick look. The room was filled with paintings and handcrafted pieces, each one made by students. I drifted from one display to the next, but then I suddenly froze, spotting a familiar piece.
My jaw clenched, and I could feel my teeth grinding in frustration. Right in front of me was the painting I had drawn in class, now showcased without my consent.
"That fucking bitch!" I hissed under my breath, glaring at the piece. I knew exactly who was responsible for this.
"I thought it was a beautiful piece," a voice said suddenly, pulling me from my thoughts. "It looks sad and agonizing. But very deep." The blonde, green-eyed woman stood beside me, her gaze fixed on the painting with a faint smile. I chuckled, shaking my head, but as I glanced over at her, I could see she wasn't just admiring the artwork. Her eyes seemed to hold a blend of curiosity, sadness, and amusementâlike she was searching for something beyond the surface.
"I really don't understand your fascination and kinks with... women's necks," Chloe said, casting me a sidelong glance. "But I'm not here to judge, Quinn. This really is a great piece of artwork." Her emerald eyes met mine, calm but probing, as if she was trying to unravel some hidden part of me.
Then, out of nowhere, she placed a gentle hand on my arm. The unexpected touch sent a jolt through me, my chest pounding as my breath caught in my throat. "Now, you're the one who intrigues me." She smiled, her expression soft and warm, yet leaving me completely speechless.
I could only stand there, watching as she moved past me, casually drifting toward the other artworks, while I tried to steady the rush of emotions she'd left in her wake.
â C H L O E â
Everyone has a fetish; it's just that some people hide it better than others. Fetishes are where our desires meet our imagination, creating a unique blend of attraction and fantasy that we might not always share. There's a fine line between simple curiosity and a full-blown fetishâit's all about how far we're willing to explore that intersection.
"Dear, can you make sure all the lights are off and the windows and doors are closed before you leave?" Mrs. Larkin, our librarian, requested. It was already 8 PM, and the library should have been closed by now, but I had begged her to let me stay a bit longer to work on my project.
"Yes, Mrs. Larkin, I will. Thank you again, ma'am." I smiled at her before diving back into the pile of books on the table. She nodded in response and stepped out of the library.
The silence felt heavy and a little creepy, but thankfully, the sound of the rain outside helped to distract me. I flipped through one book after another, finally gathering all the references I needed. Grabbing my phone, I checked the timeâ9:30 PM. "I'm starving!" I sighed deeply, leaning back in my chair.
Suddenly, I heard the door creak open. My heart raced as a shadow slowly entered the room, and to my surprise, I recognized the figure. "Quinn?!" I exclaimed, equally startled to see her in the library.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, her eyes wide with surprise.
"I'm the one who's supposed to ask you that. Mrs. Larkin let me stay after hours so I could finish my project. What are you doing in the library this late? No one is allowed here past 8 PM." I explained, still a bit shocked by her unexpected presence.
"I'm here to meet someone," she said, slowly approaching the table, holding a small basket in one hand and an umbrella in the other.
"Oh! Okay, sneaking into the library to get some... pussy?" I blurted out before I could stop myself. I didn't know why those words slipped out; I was just trying to lighten the mood.
Quinn laughed at my question as she sat down in the chair across from me, placing the basket on the table. "I guess you could say that. That pussy will definitely be fed by my hand tonight." Her expression was serious, but the smile on her face reached her eyes. She pulled a sandwich from the basket, and my stomach rumbled in response; I was starving.
Noticing my reaction, she paused and then handed me the sandwich. "Go on," she said. I hesitated for a moment, but the hunger won out. I smiled and accepted the sandwich from her. She then took a bottle of orange juice from the basket, opened its cap, and set it down next to me. She nodded silently, and I smiled back as I started to eat.
A few minutes of silence passed before I heard her hum softly. "Mmm. She's here." I glanced at the door, but no one was there. Suddenly, I heard a little purr. Quinn ducked down to reach for something on the floor, and when she straightened up, she was holding a cat.
"What is that cat doing here?" I asked, surprised.
"She lives here. She usually goes outside at 9PM every night, but it's raining tonight. So I brought her food," Quinn explained. My brows knitted together at her response.
"That's who you're meeting here?" I asked curiously. She nodded.
"Yeah, this pussy...cat needs to eat as well." She winked at me, and I felt my cheeks flush. I hadn't expected her to be here to feed a cat. I chuckled softly.
I watched as Quinn fed the cat from the food she had brought in her basket. She looked so calm and happy, almost like a different person compared to her usual self. After a few minutes of observing her gentle interactions with the cat, I decided to tidy up the pile of books on the table and return them to their proper places.
As I slowly placed the books back on the shelves, I noticed a shadowy figure standing in the corner, and it startled me. "Fuck!" I blurted out in shock. The figure began to approach, and when the light finally revealed the face, I felt a wave of relief wash over me. It was Quinn, carrying the rest of the piled books from the table.
"You're unusually jumpy," she said, a teasing lilt in her voice.
"I thought I was alone here and you had left! This place is starting to get creepy at night," I replied. She chuckled softly.
"So, women's necks are your kinky little fetish, I assume?" I asked, trying to spark a conversation to break the silence. She hummed in response.
"Mmm? Isn't it?" I pressed.
She smirked at me. "Yes, Chloe, it is. Trying to make small talk?" She raised an eyebrow, clearly amused.
"I guess so," I admitted honestly.
"There's nothing more to know about my kink; almost everyone here knows how it works. I bet you have your own fetishes to worry about," she said, her tone stayed calm.
I shook my head. "No, I don't have fetishes, Quinn." She simply hummed again in response, her expression unreadable.
I turned my head to look at her again. "Seriously, I don't," I insisted, placing the rest of the books in my hands back on the shelves. "So why neck? What's so special about it?" I asked, but she remained silent. When I turned to face her, I noticed she was frozen in place, facing the opposite shelf, so I could only see her back. "Don't get me wrong; I'm just trying to know you better, I guess. You seem kinda different depending on the person you're talking to," I explained.
Suddenly, I heard a loud clatter as books dropped to the floor, startling me. Quinn had dropped the books she was carrying and started pacing toward me. Both her hands rested on the shelf, effectively trapping me in place. Her expression was serious, and her eyes locked onto mine. "And you think knowing me would change the way I act or talk to you, Chloe?" she asked, her face so close to mine that I could feel her warm breath brushing against my lips.
"IâI was just curious, Quinn," I stuttered, feeling my heart race.
"There's nothing more you need to know about me, Chloe," she replied firmly. But I knew she was wrong. There was so much more to her that she kept hidden, aspects of herself she didn't show to most people. And that intrigued me even more.
"Do you think knowing more about me will make me stop doing this?" she suddenly asked, her hand sliding under my skirt. Her fingers brushed against my inner thigh, slowly making their way up. My breath hitched at her touch, and I found myself frozen and speechless once again. As her hand continued moving higher, it reached my belly, right next to my lingerie. Her finger stroked teasingly between my skin and the fabric.
I met her gaze, and I could see her pupils dilated, a stormy grey with a hint of green around the edges. Her eyes flicked down to my lips, and I unconsciously followed her gaze. Fuck! My heart raced even faster at the realization that our faces were so close together, our lips barely brushing against each other. I felt hypnotized, my breath quickening and my knees growing weak.
"What more do you want, Chloe?" Her voice dripped with seduction, and I swallowed hard, feeling a knot form in my throat.
What did I want? The question echoed in my mind, but I couldn't think straight in that moment. All I knew was that I felt an overwhelming urge to close the gap between us. Her lips looked so inviting as I stared at them, my own trembling in response. I fought against the urge to let my mind speak what my body craved.
"Say it, Chloe. What do you want?" I blinked a few times, trying to collect myself, but her gaze held me captive, her eyes locked onto mine. My lips continued to quiver, aching to voice the desire building inside me. I glanced back at her lips. God! I couldn't think clearly anymore. Take me! Take me right here, right now. Kiss me with those damn lips! The thoughts screamed in my head, drowning out everything else.
"IâI..." The words struggled to escape my lips as I fought to hold them back. My breathing quickened, and my heart pounded louder than ever, drowning out any rational thought.
Then, just as the heavy moment reached its peak, my phone rang from the bookshelf, the sound echoing in the stillness of the library. Startled, I pulled away from Quinn, who took a step back, her expression unreadable. My hands trembled as I grabbed my phone and saw Dennis's name flashing on the screen.
"Dennis?"
"Hey, hon. Are you still at the library?" he asked, his voice cheerful.
"Yes, I'm done with my work just now," I replied.
"Good. I'm right outside. Want to grab something to eat?" As he spoke, I heard the door creak open. Though the bookshelves blocked my view, I caught a glimpse of him entering the library and settling into one of the chairs.
"Okay, I'll just put the books back. Be there in a minute," I said, quickly hanging up. When I turned back to Quinn, I noticed her posture had changed; she was now resting against the shelf, watching me intently.
"I'll take care of the rest of the books back here," she said firmly.
"That's fine, Iâ" I started, but she cut me off.
"You should go now, Chloe." Her face was serious, and the warmth in her eyes had faded, replaced by something unreadable.
I hesitated for a moment, uncertainty swirling in my mind, but eventually, I nodded slowly. I turned and began to walk toward Dennis, leaving behind the charged atmosphere of the library and the unspoken possibilities that hung in the air with Quinn.
"Hon? Are you okay?" Dennis's voice jolted me back to my senses.
"Yes, I am," I replied shortly as we approached my apartment.
"You've been unusually quiet since we left campus," he noted, his brow furrowing in concern.
"I was just a bit tired, and it's really late," I explained, trying to shake off the lingering thoughts of Quinn.
Dennis took a step closer to me, his gaze softening. "I was thinking, hon. Maybe it's time to take things further in our relationship. I think I'm ready." As he spoke, he leaned in, bringing his face closer to mine, and pressed his lips against mine.
My eyes widened, and my eyebrows knitted together in surprise. His lips were tender as he kissed me slowly, but I couldn't shake the feeling that something was off, it felt empty. Why didn't I feel any excitement? Just then, a vivid memory of Quinn's lips flashed through my mind. My breathing quickened, and without thinking, I found myself kissing Dennis back.
As we parted, I opened my eyes to see Dennis smiling at me. His hand slid around my waist, and he leaned in for another kiss. But again, nothing happened. The stiffness in my body remained, and I felt no rush, no thrill, and the excitement that had surged through me earlier was missing. The thought of Quinn's lips lingered again, sending a wave of warmth through me. My heart raced once more, but it wasn't because of Dennis. That's when reality bit meâsuddenly overwhelmed, I pushed Dennis away.
"Hon? Are you okay?" His expression was a mix of confusion and concern.
"Sorry, Dennis. IâI was startled," I stammered, my heart pounding as I processed what was happening.
What is happening?! Just the thought of Quinn's lips ignited feelings in me that Dennis's kiss didn't. Why wasn't I feeling the same rush with him? My mind raced with mixed emotions and questions. Why am I suddenly thinking of kissing her? Am I developing some sort of lip fetish? But it doesn't feel that way when I look at Dennis's lips. Am I having a fetish over Quinn's lips?!