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"Hey," she places her hand on my cheek, "You're safe."

I nod to show her I understand, and Billie and I go our separate ways to our classes.

⚠️detailed descriptions of masturbation

For the rest of the day, I think about my conversation with Billie.

I think about all of the times I felt the throbbing or shut my legs when I was with her. When I was admiring her hands, when she was driving her car, when she talks to me a certain way, her jewelry. Oh, do I love her jewelry.

During lunch, we don't discuss our previous conversation, the unspoken preference for a more private location understood by us both. It was somewhat awkward, both of us ignoring the elephant in the room: our date.

I'm honestly so nervous, and I have no idea what to expect. I mean, how does one prepare for a date with Billie Eilish?

For one, stop thinking of her as Billie Eilish, and just think of her as regular old, beautiful, dashing, sensational, funny, sweet, sexy Billie.

Yeah, that didn't help.

By the time we get out of school, I've decided that I'm hopeless and there is no way to tame the hive of nerves buzzing in my stomach. I'll just have to wait it out.

Billie meets me at her car, and opens the door for me, once again. I giggle, "You don't have to do that every time."

Billie strokes my shoulder sweetly, "Yes I do."

I blush and crouch inside, letting her shut the door for me. The drive is quiet and awkward, but not cold. The date is so soon, and I feel excitement bubbling up inside of me. I glance occasionally at Billie to see a contented smile on her lips.

"I'm ex-xcited for tonight," I blurt.

Billie's smile grows, "Me too."

"What are we gonna do?" I ask, curious.

She smirks, "Nothing special."

I scoff, "I doubt that."

"Just wait and see, Sweetheart."

Billie rests her hand on my knee and rubs her thumb back and forth, managing to calm me and increase my heart rate at the same time.

"Is it throbbing?" She asks.

I expect a smirk, but look over to see her staring at the road.

I clear my throat, "Uhm, yes."

She smirks, "Fun."

"What did you mean when you said it 'feels good'?"

Billie pulls into my driveway, putting the car in park, "I can't quite explain it, and I can't very well show you."

"How come?"

She tilts her head at me, "I need your consent, but you can't give consent when you don't even know what will happen."

I tilt my head and she continues, "You wouldn't like it if some stranger touched you between your legs, would you?"

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