At one point in life people sacrifice their sense of self to fit in society. Depending where they are, they enjoy it for a little bit before regrettin... it for the rest of their lives. Greg couldn’t do that, he was weird but weird by choice. He was into conspiracy theories, rituals, more than questionable anime themes, something called “creepypasta” and he was very public about these things and people knew it. Now during that period in your life (middle school and high school) it’s obvious shit. I open my legs and curl my body inward so I can sit up, leaning on my hands without interrupting his pace. I look up at him and he knows what I'm trying to do. He shakes his head. "No Chanel." I give him my best persuading look and moan, "Please Ethan." Breathing hard he closes his eyes and shakes his head again. "Pleeeaaase let me ride you," I beg in a soft, sweet voice despite my heavy breathing. He opens his eyes and I bite my lip. "Ugghhh," he growls in frustration, but I've won. He. More

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