With input from @Universorum
By all accounts the party on the yacht was quite the success if the various snaps and hastily posted videos on social media was anything to go by. It followed hot on the heels of the new year’s eve party which, by the same accounts, was the perfect way to ring in the new year. Parties seemed like the perfect way for the student body to unwind from the grind of being a student, or for students who were wound too tight to grind against a body. Of course, any information about parties was secondhand where Christina Machale was concerned.
Christina didn’t think she was a particularly disliked student and she had been given a flier for the yacht party the same as everyone else, but she didn’t go. Just like she didn’t go to the beach house. Just like she hadn’t been to a party since she was thirteen and going to a birthday party where she still thought a clown might show up to do balloon animals. It pained Christina to have to throw the yacht invitation in the trash but such was the expectation when every waking moment outside of school had the potential of bringing down a scandal the likes of which haven’t been rivaled since Anthony Weiner couldn’t keep it in his pants.
And he was just running for mayor
Christina did love her parents, she loved her daddy more, but sometimes it was just so stressful and limiting having to worry about a reputation that wasn’t even her own. Why would it matter if she went to a party? If anything a bit of underage drinking would only show voters that the children of politicians were normal too. There were worse things she could doing than going to a party, like heroin or murder. Though she respected her mother’s wishes, the whole squeaky clean reputation only made Christina think that others would think her family is perfect in that Stepford kind of way. Besides, John F. Kennedy was President and he was a notorious cooze hound.
Maybe that’s why he was assassinated.
Because she cared about the reputation of her family, when school let out today she didn’t have talk of a party on her lips. She was out of the school before the end of the day bell was finished ringing, and she was home four hours later. Club activities were starting up and they had a way of making Christina lose track of time. There was a town hall meeting that her mother was attending and her father was catering a film and had to work late but both assured her that they’d be around for breakfast in the morning and that there was food in the oven.
Christina had spent the night as ordinarily and dully as possible. She did her homework, watched an hour of television while eating ice cream before dinner, and she retreated to her room with its eggshell walls lined with various images of a rock band known more for its shirtless live shows than its music quality and wall scrolls picked up at a hobby shop in the mall. Her evening entertainment had been living vicariously through the people on the boat who had been uploading different parts of it. If she closed her eyes and focused on the noise it was almost like she was there, too.
She would have loved to be there, having fun, making mistakes, being a teenager, but duty called and when duty called she had to answer.
As she was watching three girls playing cards from the perspective of someone getting annoyed that the game was taking too long, the video dimmed and her attention was drawn to the message instead. A smile on her face providing a welcome distraction from the unfortunate reality that she was there, alone, in her room while everyone who mattered was miles away out on the ocean. At least someone was thinking of her tonight.Are you at that party?do u see me at that party? Well… no, I don’t. What are you doing then??thinking of u
Christina considered a moment if she should throw in a few emoji before sending the message back but decided against it precisely because a better idea came to mind. Christina, who was at the moment laying in bed in what was almost the same thing as pajamas, turned onto her back and lifted her phone above her head, turning the camera on. In frame was her body and she had to reposition herself so that it wasn’t cut off. She lifted her old, faded t-shirt just enough to teasingly reveal her navel and a the smoothness of her stomach while she bent her legs, which were barely unhindered by the very short pair of baby blue shorts she was wearing, in order to show off the maximum amount of her thighs pressed together.
And then she blew a kiss as the camera took the shot, and the picture was sent right along. who needs a party when u have me hey, that’s my girl. ;)
we’ll have much more fun together anyway, i promisei have all nite for u
The next reply that Christina got wasn’t a text message, instead it was a picture. The content of the picture was more blatant and less teasing than the one Christina had sent, and, combined with the the text that followed afterward, conveyed slight impatience from the other person. do you?
Patience was a virtue that not many had and it seemed impatience carried to foreplay as well. Christina was all too happy to tease, she’d done so before, but maybe her teasing had been a bit too
good judging by the picture sent in return. That her smooth thighs and smoother stomach were able to earn her a very excited response; well, excited in the physical sense while the text implied eagerness. It brought a smile to her lips, that and the picture itself which was angled just perfectly to make it larger than it was - though Christina was sure it was plenty large.
She had good taste.
Her follow-up message took more time to arrange. She lost her shirt, tossing it onto the beige oval-shaped rug in the middle of her floor, which was soon joined by her shorts and panties. It was still possible to tease as she was, but where was the fun in teasing when she was as naked as the day she was born. Christina first took a picture of her chest, one with her arm covering them and the next fully exposed; her third picture was a full body shot with her thighs pressed together once again. It was the fourth picture that crossed from tease to full on titillation as it involved two fingers and parted thighs and a tongue hanging out of the corner of her mouth.
It was moments after she sent the fourth picture that the response came not from a message or a picture, but the ringing of her phone. The smile she was wearing widened; this may not have been a party on a boat but she was finding ways to have her own sort of fun. She didn’t even have to look at who the caller was as she accepted it after two rings. ”Where do you want my finger to go next?”
If she had been aware of the passage of time it barely registered by the time Christina turned off the phone, her breathing heavy and body tingling but it was nothing compared to how the owner of the voice on the other line had ended the call. For good measure she took a final picture, one of the little glisten her body had in the wake of the night’s activities along with a heart emoji.
The moment was short lived when Christina heard the familiar creak of the front door opening and the clacking of heels that could only belong to her mother. Christina shut off her phone and tossed it on the nightstand and scrambled to get herself under the covers. The footsteps were in the kitchen, but they weren’t slowing down. The stairs sounded like they were being blared from a stereo as they were ascended. The light! Christina slid out of bed, wincing at the cold on her feet as she hurriedly tiptoed to the light switch, flicked it, and crept her way back into the bed where the blanket was hastily tossed over her. ”Christina?”
Avery Machale poked her head into her daughter’s bedroom only to find Christina sleeping like a baby. Avery closed the door with a smile, glad to know that in the grand lottery that was childbirth that hers was so well behaved.