The knowing smirk that appears on his face when he passes me in the hallway is almost too much. The way he makes me feel completely transparent, too easy to read in the split second my eyes meet his. I turn away, every time, barely supressing a shudder. I smile at my friends and pretend to be just as upbeat and cheerful as I was a moment ago, while at the same time, I feel as if he's reached out with a cold finger and touched my very soul. It chills me, reminding me of everything he stands for, of those dirty secrets that I have.

We swore that we would never have any secrets from each other, my friends and I. I've told them about every crush I had, all those little indescretions a high school girl finds worthy of confessing. We still giggled at the mention of sex until our sophomore year, at which point it turned to expectant hushing and silence, and breathless waiting for an arousing or at least scandalous tale. Even now, none of us will admit to masturbating, and I can only take a guess at which of them actually do it. We turn and face the wall when we change after gym class, trying not to look at each other, or at least not to get caught doing it. If I brought up this secret, all the things I've done, that he has done to me, I don't dare imagine how they would react.

*****

He is good at fueling the alienation, the growing doubts I have at fitting in with my friends.

"Imagine if they saw you now," he teases me, massaging my clit with one hand, which almost makes my sore arms buckle. He's just laying there, amusing himself by watching me. I'm bent over backwards and on all fours, directly above him. His lubricated cock slowly slides further into my ass as I just don't find the strength anymore to hold myself up.

"I love that slutty ass of yours," he tells me. "Imagine what they'd think of you if they knew how much you love a cock up your ass."