Tight Jeans (Take Them Off)

 “It’s a sin,” a girl said loud enough for only me to hear, hugging a biology book. We’re sitting in the library finishing our last assignment of the semester. This girl had dark hair, a black skirt, black lipstick, more than enough eyeshadow, and a dark-blue Hurley t-shirt. I was used to blonde hair and deep ocean blue eyes. The girls I’d dated had valley girl accents.

“Excuse me?” I said, raising a brow.

“That I don’t know you. It’s a sin.” The girl gave me a confident smile and a cocky wink. Sarah Coleman was the last girl to talk to me. We’d dated for five years, but we broke up last month. She said it wasn’t me; it was her. 

“Is this supposed to be some joke?”  A smile tugged at the corner of my mouth. “Who put you up to this?”

“Can’t a girl admire a cute guy with a nice ass?” She dropped her gaze and folded her lips under her teeth as though she was hungry to taste my chocolate skin. 

“But we’re sitting down. You can’t see my ass.”

“So, I may or may not have been watching you for a while now.”

“You’ve been stalking me?”

“You make it sound worse than it is.” the girl leaned across the table. “I want to lose my virginity to you. You up for it?” She leaned on the table, holding her head in her hands.

My eye bulged like Bugs Bunny, and I swallowed hard. “Okay, you’re smoking something because…”

“Don’t think I’m worth it?”

“No. I mean, yes. I don’t know. I mean, I don’t even know your name.”

“Ericka Easton,” she said.

I searched back through my memories for an Erika Easton. When I couldn’t match the name with a memory, my eyes went cold. “Not sure I know an Ericka.”

 “Well, there are over two thousand kids at school. You couldn’t possibly know everyone.”

“My name is…”

“Josh. I know.”

“What else do you know about me?”

“You’re the new neighbor?” I said. 

“Ding. You won the prize.” Ericka smiled. 

“Your dad went to college with my dad, right?”

“We just never had the time to come and visit. I’m their adopted daughter, so I’ve been with them for 8 years.”

“So, why would you want to lose your virginity to me?”

“My parents say I need a good guy, and I hear good things about you.”

I leaned across the desk and kissed her cheek. “Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

“Wasn’t expecting that.” Ericka blushed. 

“But you wanted to lose your virginity to me, so what’s a kiss?”

“Oh, that?” Ericka said. “I knew you were too good to go through with it. Besides, you think I’m a virgin?”

“I would say no, but I think it’s yes,” I said.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Ericka smiled. 

The bell rang, and we left through the glass double doors to a brisk September breeze. We passed stoplights and street lights through crosswalks to my front door. Ericka told me about her parents and how they’d wanted her to meet people that would respect Ericka for who she was, not for her parents’ bank account. 

“So,” Ericka said as we arrived at our houses, which were a stone’s throw away. 

Ericka looked down, then returned her eyes. “Listen”–she pointed to her house, then lowered her hand–“you wanna come over for a while?”

I glanced at my watch. “It’s…”

“No pressure,” Ericka said, holding her hands in front of her body. 

“You don’t have to ask me twice.”

Ericka clasped my hand with her soft grip, guiding me to her porch.  As she opened the door, she turned. “We haven’t finished unboxing everything yet, so…”

“Think this is bad; you should see my room.” 

“So you’re unorganized?” Ericka raised a brow. 

“No, not at all. You could say I’m reorganized.”

Ericka threw her head back, cackling. “Good one.”

“So, what is it you want to do?” I shrugged. “A movie? Tell me embarrassing childhood stories? Or…”

“Pull your pants down.” Ericka threw her hands on her hips. “Off. Come on.”

“That was quick.”

“No, not for sex. I want to see if I can fit into those jeans. I get wet any time I see you wearing…”

“Too much information,” I said. “Way too much information.” I laughed. I shook off the jeans, leaving my thigh-hugging boxers in place, drawing Ericka’s eyes to the bulge my jeans had been hiding in my jeans.

Ericka swallowed hard. “Nice. Nice…”

“Just try the jeans on already.” I blushed.

“Right. Try the jeans on.” Ericka struggled to shove her feet in my pants. 

“Don’t think they’d fit me.” Ericka frowned.

“Happens to the best of us.”

“Wanna try mine on?” Ericka raised a brow, and a grin tugged at the corner of her mouth.

“If you insist.”

“Good deal.” She stripped her jeans and handed them to me. 

“Here goes nothing,” I said. The fucking jeans wouldn’t fit me. She only pretended not to fit into my jeans. This was a trap. A clever trap.

“Come here,” Ericka said, pulling me with her finger and a come-hither glance in her gaze. 

“Wait a minute. We went to…”

“Elementry school together, that’s right.”

“God. How did I forget?”

“I was shy then, hardly said a thing.”

“I feel bad…”

“Kiss me.”

“This isn’t a test, is it?”

“Fuck it,” Ericka said, wrapping her arms around my neck. “I’ve had the biggest crush on you. Even though I moved to North Carolina, I couldn’t get those big brown puppy dog eyes and that tight ass out of my mind.” She kissed me as though she were telling the truth. I felt the passion in her lips and her trembling fingers. 

“Ericka! Josh! You two put your pants on!” a voice said. “Right this minute.”

“Sorry, Mom,” Ericka said in a caught-in-the-act tone. 

The redness on her mother’s face spoke for the awkward silence. “Let’s just pretend none of this happened.” She stomped to the top of the stairs. “I was a kid, once, too.” She shut the door.

Ericka and I laughed until we couldn’t.

(Thanks for reading. If you like the story, for whatever reason, please hit the like button. No, I don’t care about likes in the way one might think. I am not trying to be popular, but become a better writer. If people like the story, I know I’m on the right track. If you don’t wish to like my posts, no pressure.  You can check out my edited short stories on Amazon. Also, here’s my Wattpad page.)

Revenge (It’s Not You, It’s Me)

 “Your dad is in a better place, and I’m sure he’s looking down on you from Heaven,” I said, massaging Leah’s shoulders at her father’s funeral. 

“You really believe that shit?” Leah said, raising a brow. “I shouldn’t even be here.” Leah folded her arms.

“Have I ever been wrong before?” I gave her a confident smile and a cocky wink.

“You know what?” Leah said, stroking her chin. “I’ve got a fucking plan.”

“Language,” I whispered, placing my finger to my lips. “We’re at a funeral and the pastor is still here. Besides, plans and you don’t work out so well.”

“Since when?”

“The last time you had a plan, I wrecked the car running from the police. That’s when.”

“Thought you’d gotten over that.” Leah closed the distance between us, fixing my collar. “I’m not wrong, not this time.”

I rolled my eyes and blew out my lips. “This had better be good.”

“I know who the killer is,” Leah said.

“That’s great. I mean, let’s turn him in, and let the cops handle it.”

“It’s rare for a person to get the death penalty in Washington State, and if the person who killed my father doesn’t deserve the death penalty, I don’t know who does.”

“You can’t be serious.” I rubbed my eyes. “This can’t be happening.”

“As a heart attack, that’s how serious I am. As a fucking, I mean, heart attack.” Leah’s ocean blue oval eyes turned to crinkled slits. “You in?” Leah raised a brow. 

“We gonna get caught this time?”

Leah rolled her eyes hard. “Let’s go,” she said, navigating me by my sleeve through a sea of people who came to see if Mr. Jenson left them anything in his will more than they wanted to say goodbye. It’s not as though I have a choice. When Leah asked me to do something, anything with her soul-piercing pupils, I couldn’t resist. 

The brisk September air hung with a still breeze, caressing her sun-kissed skin. I guess we’re Bonnie and Clyde. “Where are we going?” I said. “Seattle is back that way.” I pointed to the general direction of the last off-ramp. 

“It’s a surprise,” Leah said. 

“The killer–“

“What about the killer?”

“We’re going to get revenge, right?”

“Oh, that, yes.” 

Leah blinkered to an exit near a lake. “Almost there.”

“Leah, you’re starting to scare me. What’s going on?” I shouted. “You don’t know who the killer is, do you?”

“Oh, I know her alright.”  

“Her? It’s a she? I guess I don’t understand.” 

Leah rolled to a stop and placed the car in park. She slid her hand down the small of her back, retrieving her Smith & Wesson. “But you would have soon put the pieces together, and–“

“You?” I said, shifting my body in her direction. “You killed your father, didn’t you?”

“Took you long enough,” Leah said, giggling in a tone I hadn’t heard since she killed a cat in the 5th-grade. 

“I guess I don’t understand.”

“You would have put the pieces together, and your empathetic side would have turned me in, eventually.” Leah raised the pistol to my chest. “I couldn’t take any chances. He left me everything in the will.”

“No. You forged the will!” I said. 

“Should have been a detective,” Leah said before a firecracker echo shocked my chest with the pull of the trigger. 

I grabbed my chest as blood pooled my jacket. “Why. Why me?”

“Say hello to Dad for me,” Leah said, brushing tears away.

I saw black, then nothing else.

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When you can’t get parental permission to get an abortion so you become a parent yourself

Watch “Trump’s ‘America First’ Hypocrisy EXPOSED!” on YouTube

Let’s Go With, Lexy

Natalie looked down and away as tears streamed from her cheek to her jacket, resting on her tight blue jeans.
“I’m sorry I lost the–“
“I’m not worried about–“
“That’s what I thought. You didn’t even want the baby.” Natalie held her head in her hands, letting out the tears that trickled through her voice.
“I wanted the baby more than anything,” I said louder than I wanted to. “I picked out a name for her, and–“
“Her?” Natalie raised her head, locking her glassy eyes with mine. A grin tugged at the corner of her mouth. “Thought it’d be a girl?”
“Lexy. I’d thought about naming her Lexy, or the name around to see what you thought.”
“And father-daughter dances?”
“What?”
“Would you take her to father-daughter dances, too?” Natalie raised a brow.
I choked back a lump in my throat. “Of course. Bet she’d be as beautiful as you.”
“Really wanted a daughter, didn’t you?” Natalie brushed her tears with her finger.
“Move over, spacehog,” I said, lowering my body beside her.
“Sit next to me while you still can,” Natalie said.
“Oh, stop it. You’re not fat.” I nudged her shoulder.
“Will be.”
“We’ll exercise.”
“Won’t help.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m…God. I don’t know why this is so hard for me to say.” Natalie blinked back tears, making them fall faster.
I reached my arm around her, gripping the warmth of her body. “You’re scaring me, Natalie.”
“I’m…I’m pregnant.” Natalie extended her hand to grip my chin, staring into my eyes. “Not too soon, is it?”
“Are you kidding?” I said, waving my arms. “This is amazing!”
“Lexy, huh?” Natalie said, resting her head on my shoulder.
“Lexy, it is.”

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