Tonight, You're Not Going Home
"Tonight, you're not going home." Carlyle's words carry no hidden meaning. They're literal, plain and simple. And with that, Bianca suddenly realizes something.
Now... well... Her face heats up for no reason, sweat starting to bead in her small palms. Tension coils inside her, inexplicably. It's the night she's been waiting for. Their first date since confessing their feelings. She'd anticipated this flow, even if they haven't been officially dating long. Their bond was already intimate. In a word, they'd crossed the line of kisses—and beyond—long ago. Sharing their hearts feels belated, almost. If anything, it's strange they're only doing this now that their feelings align. But life had been relentlessly busy: her mother visiting, finals prep. Those days passed, and finally, tonight arrived.
...Phew, thank goodness. Bianca thinks to herself, relieved. She's prepared, mentally. She didn't fuss over her underwear for nothing. Good thing she came ready. They already know each other inside out, know how amazing time together can be. Bianca knows it all. She's a woman now, Carlyle Schultz a man. She knows exactly what two young people like them can get swept up in. She's experienced it.
"..." A subtle silence lingers between them. Not awkwardness. Not a lack of words. Just anticipation and tension for what's coming, weaving this moment. Their clasped hands grip tighter instead. Without thinking, their eyes meet. Seeing the flicker in each other's gaze, they realize: You're feeling it too. Before they know it, they've stopped amicably in the middle of the street.
"Sh-shall we go?" Carlyle stammers, uncharacteristically awkward. Stuttering, even.
"Y-yeah!" Bianca stammers back, matching him. Her heart pounds wildly for reasons she can't fathom. Thump-thump— Because it's their first night together since confessing? She has no idea why, but the trembling is real. Carlyle clears his throat; Bianca rubs her legs together pointlessly.
Oh, damn... Realization hits, flushing her face crimson. She bites her lip lightly. She can feel it herself—down there, already wet. Ridiculous.
Am I really such a pervert...? Expectation for what's ahead. Just walking side by side like this has her body reacting. Her face burns with self-loathing, but even so, she toddles after Carlyle. Of course, Bianca has no clue, but Carlyle's side is no different.
His pretty, cute girlfriend. White beret, checkered beige skirt, soft pink knit top. Ivory cardigan, adorable brown flats. Feminine, fresh, prim yet endearing. Carlyle realizes today that she hits every one of his tastes. Bianca Shama is perfect. Too perfect a girlfriend. So beautiful he forgets his words, his heart racing. Her slightly flushed cheeks, trembling eyes. Earlier, seeing her like that, his heart had already plummeted.
And now she's clinging to him like she can't get enough. That's troubling too. Her soft, tiny hand. The faint scent of her body—fresh fruit, maybe flowers. So Carlyle is in a bind. Hence the pointless throat-clearing, one hand shoved in his pocket. In a way, it's both their first real romance. The other's their first love. Bianca's sure it's her first; for Carlyle Schultz, it's undeniably the first time he's been this serious. So they're both reacting with embarrassing intensity, caught off guard by themselves.
Strictly speaking, it's not even their first night together. But in a sense, as lovers, tonight truly is the first. They're hyper-aware of it. Still, they tuck those emotions away and stroll the evening streets amiably. They stop at a convenience store for snacks.
"What do you want, Bianca?"
"Hmm... something sweet."
They grab a bundle of ice cream and desserts.
"Ah, hold on." Carlyle heads back inside after stepping out. He returns shortly.
"Forget something?" Bianca asks, and he flashes an ambiguous smile.
"Bought something necessary."
"Oh, that...?" She gets it immediately. Her face gradually reddens as she blurts it out.
"Y-yeah." Of course it's necessary. Her mom had stressed protection before. And having once been a guy, Bianca understands why Carlyle went back just for that.
"...You're too thoughtful for this world." She can tell he cares, considerate to a fault. Maybe overkill, but sweet.
"So, you hate it?"
Bianca shakes her head, smiling. "No, I love it!" It's because you're so sweet that I love you.
Afterward, they head to the pre-booked hotel. Carlyle reserved it alone, really.
"I'll cover the room."
"No, it's fine."
He insists, but Bianca's already received too much from him.
"I'll really get mad...?" Aquarium, dinner, even character plushies and photos—all on him.
"Can't keep taking without giving back; it's embarrassing."
Bianca puffs her cheeks, hands on hips. Carlyle bursts out laughing, amused.
"Feeling competitive even here?"
"It's not competition!" she protests. "There should be give and take!"
Yes, really. She wants to give too. Always receiving feels off.
Hmm... uh... She hesitates, then adds, "Y-you idiot... I like you too. I want to do something for you..."
Embarrassing, but sincere. She doesn't work part-time, but has allowance. Compared to self-made Carlyle, it's meager, but she wants to contribute.
Carlyle blanks at her words, then a refreshing smile spreads. "Okay, got it. Room's on you."
"Great, leave it to me...!" Bianca strides confidently to check in. Relief washes over her. Then she takes his hand, heading to their room. Thump-thump— Heart racing again. She knows what's next. And she has no intention of refusing. Because it's Carlyle. Excitement builds. She realizes now: tension is just anticipation by another name.
If it were the old me... Until now, she's always been swept away. No real difference. But her mindset has shifted—accepting it fully. In the elevator, silence reigns. Their earlier lively chat feels distant; now, breaths feel stifled. Tension everywhere. Every inch of her body hyper-aware. Of the hand in hers. Bianca sees him as a man; Carlyle, her as a woman. The one and only, her perfect match.
Breaths grow hot. Lips dry. Sweat slicks their knuckles.
"Bianca."
"Yeah...?"
"Just... calling your name."
Silly exchange. Ding— They step out. Glancing sideways, eyes meet. Carlyle smiles faintly, fingers interlacing tighter. Bianca's heart tickles; she ducks her head. Her lower belly tightens oddly. Awkward, shy, but not weird—it's Carlyle beside her. He always makes her feel like a woman.
And I see Carlyle as... a man. This thinking feels natural now. Natural enough to love him, anticipate what's coming. Heart pounds fiercely—might burst out. Thump-thump— Small heart's roar in the quiet hall. They walk silently. He leads slowly; she follows with light steps. Hands firmer than ever. Intimate. Cautious. But both know: calm before the storm.
Click— Door cracks open. They enter. It shuts. Bianca meets his burning golden eyes. Carlyle, eyes hungry for his woman. No sooner than the door closes—he pulls her into a fierce embrace. Lips crash. He'd held back too long. Bianca's no different.
"Nnh—"
Of course her eyes flutter shut in surprise at his ambush.
Thud— Carlyle's bag hits the floor. Ice cream inside? Irrelevant now. Wet lip smacks echo. Bodies blaze; she doesn't know what to do. Unaware, her arms wrap his broad neck, slender back pinned to the wall. His solid chest dips to claim her cherry lips.
"Hnn... haht."
Breaths mingle in mouths. Bodies grind, feverish. No space between, craving deep. His love. Validation. Her beret falls. Ivory cardigan follows limply. His large hand cups her soft breast.
"...!"
Bianca startles but doesn't push away. Clings harder, on tiptoes. I love it, love you. Wishing he knows, feels it. Carlyle peppers forehead kisses, nuzzles nose—showing love. How long? He wanted bed midway, but her clinging made it impossible.
"More, more..."
Bianca Shama loves kisses, after all. Her pleas keep him locked in. Fierce making out leaves them breathless. They pause, panting.
"Haa... Bianca."
His low voice thrills. Body reacts. She pants, trying to meet his eyes. Reason returns slowly. Hot lips touch her forehead again. His strong arms pull her waist close—pure bliss.
"...I love you, Bianca."
She knows, no need for words. Instead, hugs tight. She's always the one embraced—he's big, sturdy; she's small, delicate. Inevitable. But she tries hugging back.
"I love you too..."
Hearts match. Love overwhelming. Rare intimacy fills her. Pausing before next step, every second drags sweetly. They could kiss all night. Lips might swell, but it's fine. Not rushing to bed feels masterful; savoring after so long. They giggle facing each other. As he leans for more, she blocks with her hand.
"W-wait..."
Not the bag. That doesn't matter. But she wants a shower first. Another kiss, and she might not stop.
...We've been out all day; might smell sweaty. She worries, voices it.
"Hey, Carlyle. Can I shower first...?"
Cute girlfriend's request. He nods. "I don't mind... if you want."
But his heated eyes add, "Plenty of time."
She playfully thumps his chest with tiny fists. "Don't say embarrassing stuff like that!"
"What's wrong with it?" He chuckles low.
Moments later, she's in the bathroom. Spotless. Luxurious. Dim crimson light reflects her body.
...Everywhere I look, a woman. Bianca reaffirms. Utterly female. Curves supple where they should be. Slim limbs, delicate waist. Hips and breasts proudly feminine. This is Bianca Shama. Her now. And outside: Carlyle Schultz. The rascal who made her this way. But she won't push him away. Embraces it warmly. Face flushed, she washes extra thoroughly—more than usual. A past memory makes her chuckle.
Long ago now.
Why'd I do that then...? Wizni Park hotel, relieving herself alone in the bathroom. Laughable now. Mindset's worlds apart. But unchanged: weakness for Carlyle. Slick lubrication flows from her secret folds.
"Ah... mm..."
Feeling it, embarrassment heats her face.
If I go out like this... She'd lose control completely. She always does in bed. Meaningless, funny even—but solo defeat stings. Humiliating if she peaks alone. She wants him equally undone. They're equals now. Make Carlyle lose it like her. Lover's pride?
Anyway, he likes me too. How? How to steal his soul like that?
Be more aggressive... That should work; he likes her. She recalls her last small victory. Washing, pondering, she spots something odd.
"Why's this here...?"
A TV in the tub. Bizarre. Curious, she dries her hands with a towel, fiddles. New world wonder.
"...!"
Speechless. Touching randomly pulls up video. Given the spot: adult content. Skimming curiously, she hits the scene.
Wh-what...? Too bizarre to look away. Woman mouthing man's thing.
Twoong— Culture shock.
What the hell is that...? Incomprehensible. Weird. But eyes glued. Man's face blissful.
-How's it feel, good...?
-Urgh, yeah.
Mesmerized, the couple moves to main action.
-Hnn, aaah...!
Loud moan erupts; Bianca frantically mutes. Don't want Carlyle misunderstanding—like I'm doing it solo.
"Bianca, what're you doing...?"
His voice; she blurts, "N-nothing!"
But eyes devour the lesson. Woman's moves, whispers. Probably her first real porn.