Lost Cherry
by
Melissa Constantine
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2011 Melissa Constantine
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Lost Cherry
Milani studied the books on the shelf above her desk as she waited for Marcus to come get her. The books represented her entire education at the Academy, and although she knew them forward and backward, she was nervous that her upcoming tests would be too much for her without her textbooks. I just need to stay calm and remember my training, she told herself, and idly picked a text to flip through. She glanced at the cover. Oral Exercises, she thought. That was an interesting class. Milani smiled as she flipped through the textbook and examined the photos within, searching for her favorite: a point-of-view shot of a thin young woman pleasuring a man, her cheeks hollow from the suction and a thin stream of saliva leaking out of the corner of her mouth. Every time Milani looked at this photo she felt herself grow warm and her nipples stiffened up against her shirt. The girl in the picture had her eyes open, looking right at the viewer, and Milani felt a kinship with her. It hadn't escaped Milani, of course, that with her waves of rich brown hair and delicate green eyes, the girl in the photo strongly resembled her.
She checked the clock. Five more minutes, Milani thought. Her counselor Marcus was to escort her to the final meeting for the students before they began their excursions into the Outside World, and there was much to discuss. Marcus had been her guide at the Academy for as long as Milani could remember, protecting her and advising her, acting as a mentor when she needed it and a friend when she needed that. When the soft knock came on the door, Milani nearly ran to the door and threw it open.
Marcus stepped in and the two embraced as they kissed each other's cheeks. "How time has flown," Marcus said, reaching out to stroke Milani's face. "I can remember when you were just a plebe, running around in your red shirt and scrubbing the floors," he said. Marcus took her by the shoulders and turned her around so that both of them could see Milani's figure in the full-length mirror that stood in the corner. Marcus hugged her from behind, resting his chin on Milani's head and slinging an arm over her chest. "Now you're all grown up and ready to take your place in the upper ranks."
Milani took Marcus's arm and pressed it tightly to her chest. "I hope so," she said. "But there are thirty upperclassmen and only one space. Those aren't great odds."
Marcus kissed Milani just below the ear. "I don't care about the odds. I wouldn't bet against you."
Milani turned and nestled into Marcus's arms, only the thin fabric of their shirts separating them. She could feel the rise and fall of Marcus's chest as he breathed, and she felt his groin against her belly. As happened so often, she wondered if he was as well-endowed as the rumors around the Academy said. Of course, she didn't know yet, since Milani hadn't completed her practicum and thus wasn't qualified to accompany a faculty member like Marcus. Yet.
"We should go," Marcus said, placing a final kiss on Milani's forehead. "We can't keep Salah waiting."
The two hurried out of the room and through the halls of the Academy, red-shirted plebes scattering out of the way of the higher-ranked pair. They arrived in the meeting hall and took their assigned places in an alcove along the wall which allowed them to view and hear everything that happened in the hall but also afforded them some privacy. Milani had never seen the meeting hall decorated like this, with banners and hangings that illustrated the history of the Academy and Milani’s upcoming tests in the Outside World. The rich murals told the story of how the Carnal Academy came to be in the midst of the Supertechnical Revolution, when the Machines had come into power and outlawed the ancient ways of physical love. Milani felt a strong sense of pride that she was hopefully about to join those guarding the traditions, waiting for the sexual renaissance to flower in the Outside World in order to go out as missionaries and retrain humanity in all the glorious variations of sex. The alternative to success—permanent demotion to plebe, with a red shirt and years of floor-scrubbing to look forward to—was too scary to contemplate.
As the Dean entered and moved to the podium to address the crowd, Milani glanced across the room and saw Tira and her counselor in the alcove opposite to her own. Among all the students in Milani’s class—nearly thirty young men and women—Tira was the only one Milani didn’t like. Truth be told, she was intimidated by Tira. Nearly everybody was. Milani still clearly remembered how she had been accosted by the other girl months earlier, when the first rumors had begun to circulate about the final exam.
Tira was a tall, lean Mediterranean beauty with thick dark curls and rich brown eyes. She was one of the most attractive girls in the Temple, and she wasn’t afraid to remind people of that. She went around the Temple as if she owned it, barking orders at the lower-ranked red-shirts and even her own classmates. Although Milani found her attitude towards others repulsive, she had to admit that Tira was gorgeous and a strong pupil—as strong as Milani, which created some competition between them. So when she had returned to her dorm room one afternoon and found Tira waiting for her, sitting on Milani’s bed, Milani hadn’t known what to think.
Tira rose and went to greet Milani, kissing her on the cheek as was customary in the Academy.
“Milani, I’m happy to see you. I’ve been waiting,” she said, squeezing Milani’s upper arm.
“Really? What for?”
Tira gave her an odd look. “You don’t know?” she asked, taking Milani’s hand.
Milani was confused. Tira had rarely spoken to her before today, which she guessed was fortunate, since Tira spent most of her time running down her classmates. Yet here she was, holding hands with her in her bedroom.
“Tira, I really don’t know why you’re here. You’re going to have to tell me,” she said.
“You’ll figure it out,” Tira said, opening her shirt and placing Milani’s hand on her breast. It almost took Milani’s breath away. The students were only supposed to be studying and learning now—not practicing, let alone with each other. Still, it was amazing—Tira’s warm, soft skin felt wonderful under Milani’s fingers, and she could feel herself getting aroused. Tira massaged the other girl’s hand into her breast, as if trying to convince her to feel her up, but there was no need—Milani had begun to freely grope the other girl, cupping her breasts and rubbing her stiffening nipples.