With no more thought or consideration I started to unbutton my crisp, white blouse. My fingers were shaking terribly as they worked the buttons; despite my reputation I was relatively inexperienced, but I wasn’t going to let that hinder my plan. Mr Francis paused, and for the first time since I’d known him, a look of genuine confusion swept across his face. I’d unbuttoned my blouse to my chest by now; the white cotton of my bra was clearly visible as it cupped the soft curve of my small breast. I was still sobbing a little, but by this point most of the tears were purely for show as a way of underlining my ‘fragility’. “Charlotte Reid, w-what on earth are you doing?” Mr Francis finally exclaimed, the phone still pressed to his ear, his fingers had paused mid-dial. The lowest button on my blouse finally squeezed through its eye and I let it fall open seductively. “P-please don’t call my father, Sir” I purred quietly. I suppose retrospectively, dear reader, you could view my strategy. Despite being only two years apart - at the time I was twenty and he was eighteen - we were not close. There was no animosity between us and we got along okay. We were just two different people with very different interests. Our parents had gone on a cruise and we had the house to ourselves during their week-long trip but hadn't interacted much.I was a quiet, nerdy guy who preferred video games, sci-fi movies and the fandoms associated with them. Most of my friends were cultivated from online forums and chatrooms. I was also gay, having come out years ago to no one's surprise. Carl, on the other hand, was a stereotypical straight guy who bordered on being a jock. He and the group of guys he hung out with had been the popular k**s around school and they all had just graduated. From what I knew, they each had girlfriends and a few on the side to satisfy their teenage libidos. They were loud and rambunctious, and as the noise rose from downstairs, I tuned them out as I always did.They.
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