I'll tell you right now, she was the cutest, sexiest, prettiest, sluttiest damn thing I've ever seen. Hands down. Her plump ruby lips with their smeared lip gloss, constantly swollen by his harsh kissing, will always be imprinted on my mind. Sometimes it looked like she was to the point of crying when he pinned her against walls with his big linebacker body, but then she'd be moaning those little moans like she always would. Any experienced girl could tell right away that she was faking, but not me. I wasn't experienced. I just wanted her. It was fun to imagine her being my first – a little comical even. To me, it was a silly, slightly embarrassing school girl crush that would go nowhere. I never expected Nowhere to be so…surprising.
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I had all these little spots. Behind trees, around corners, hiding amongst my circle of peculiar friends while I spied, then, of course, the occasional crouch behind a garbage bin. What? I'm tiny, I make it work. Don't think I haven't brought an extra bin liner and climbed IN one once. Anyway, today it's under the bleachers, staring up her skirt and being just a little surprised that she actually had underwear on. It's a thong, but it provided some coverage nevertheless. I thought she'd be all about easy access for him by now. She's eating lunch with the linebacker – big shocker there(bite my sarcastic ass) – and they've gone a full five minutes without a make out session. Unlike most creepy stalkers, I like to watch him shove his tongue down her throat. It brings on those sexy little sounds she likes to make to please him. Only she doesn't know that it pleases me just as much.
I'm still amazed I was never – not once! – caught doing this by anyone. You'd think people would take an interest in a chick with spiked bleach blonde and tye-dye hair staring up a jockie's skirt. Just as much as you'd think *WARNING: BIG BASH TO RELIGION COMING* people would stop praying to a naked man living in a magical land made of gold with other naked men and women kissing the ground he walks on. Sorry, I can't just subtly slip into the story that I'm an atheist. Naw, I have to do it with a BANG, but hey, that's just me.
Well, I guess that's a bit of a lie. No, not about the religion thing. Religion sucks. Boo. Go to hell and burn it from society's imagination, Religion. About her being a jock. I don't really know what to call her. I've never really been much of a labeler, except when it comes to preps and sluts. Those are easily categorized, but her. She was something completely new and different to the system.
Okay, okay, that might be taking it a little far, but really, she was amazing. Most days she looked a bit like a chav with her shoulder-length brunette hair covered by a variety of beanies. If there was ever a fashion show using strictly her clothes the preppies would run screaming in the opposite direction. "Oh how tacky!" I can see it all now. Let me enjoy this fantasy for a moment…
That was fun.
Alright, you'd be seeing a lot of black, but this girl was no little emo wah-wah. I'm talking cargoes, cargoes, and more cargoes. When there's no cargoes, there's sweatpants. She has the perfect body and tan to wear tank tops on a daily pattern. Sometimes there'd be a random tie thrown into the mix.
Soccer and tennis were her sports and the condition treated her well, but her teammates didn't. They all feared her, and those who didn't were soon given a reason to. That didn't stop them from treating her like trash and talking shit at every possible opportunity. This girl didn't play nice with other females and that was what drove her to hang solely with the dick-carrying gender. When you hang out with a bunch of dudes it's not hard to foresee possible dating in the future, but what she did was slowly make her way around her circle of friends until she'd dated every last one of them. This got her the classification of slut. Well, that and how she flirted with everything that had something hard and at least six inches long attached between their legs around school and bars. Yeah, some nasty rumor about her having a taste for "older," more "mature" men got out. I didn't want to know how true that was.
Now get ready for it. The but. Since she started dating the linebacker she's become more feminine with her attire(I started saving up for a gun when she walked into Chemistry with a pink shirt on. The gun's not going to be for her, but for me. Right here! Between the eyes! I'm ready!), a bit less slutty, a little better liked, a teensy weensy bit nicer. Like today. She wore a skirt and actually hesitated before shoving some preppy little girl that's been chatting her ear off lately when she tried to give her a hug. Geezus. It makes me want to cry.
Now, don't get me wrong. I'm enjoying the view the skirt's giving me right now, but it's just too awkward and so not her. I'm dying to ask her just one single question. "WHY?!?!"
Why has she changed so much for a JOCK? I thought she hated those bastards! I heard her exacts words "I hate those stupid cheerleaders." Now come on! That HAS to include the footballers too, right? It's not fair.
Oh yeah, and get this! She's slackened up on her training. I'm starting to see more pronounced curves, which is nice, but I don't get to see her run her ass off around the track after school hours anymore. I guess he's brawn enough for the both of them.
I'm seriously considering running off to pout, but the linebacker's finally finished his lunch and is hungry for a little dessert. Did I really just say that?
…I want some dessert…
While I imagine her swimming in a pool of wiggly jello, he's leaving the biggest damned hickey I've ever seen. No, I mean it. This thing was from hell. Within the day it'd be some huge purple demon ready to give birth to Satan's children on Earth. Yeah, yeah. This atheist is a walking contradiction. I don't believe in the son-of-a-bitch, but my homeboy(Or homegirl? Put down the torches, you don't need to burn your bras today, my crazy, feminist bitches), Religion, will probably be brought up abruptly at different times throughout the story.
NOOOO! You will not believe this. I just saw FINGER action. His sausage fingers went directly under the thong. Then they came right back out due to that fucking bell. Now they've started gathering their things and that's my cue to leave before I'm spotted. Psht. Unlikely.