“I’m going to remember this as the worst time in my entire life. The very worst.” She shook her head. “There is nothing I can do to change that. Girls my age are playing sports, going to dances and parties, kissing boys. And that’s never been me. I’ve had a full time job at the grove and a part time job at the Stop-N-Shop. I’ve done nothing over the last few years except work my ass off and watch my family fall apart. Just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse…now all this.” She waived around to the house and to me and let out an awkward laugh. She took another hit off the bowl, passing it back to me. Her coughing much less than it was on her first try.
“Ti, how old are you?” I asked, clearing my throat as I ventured into territory I knew I shouldn’t. She was a pistol, even if she was a sad one, but there was a wave of innocence about her that had me both feeling bad for her and salivating for a taste of her.
This is for her, not you. I told myself. It was only a partial lie.
“Seventeen,” She said, sniffling. “Eighteen soon.”
“You ever been kissed?” I asked, her eyes met mine. “And not a peck on the cheek or a brief smack of the lips, but a real fucking kiss? One that leaves you without air in you lungs and your thighs pressing together in search of more?” I said, my voice coming out deep and strained. My cock coming alive at the thought of tracing my tongue along her pump lips.
“Why?” She whispered, and as soon as the words left her mouth I knew there would be no coming back from what I was about to do.
I pushed off the fire pit and pulled her up off the chair, pressing her tits into my chest and my straining cock against her stomach. I tipped her chin up and looked into her confused emerald greens. She followed my thumb with her eyes as I traced her bottom lip. There were too many lines marring her face, questioning what it was I was up to. I knew she would try to pull away at any second, try to stop me. But it was too late for that.
I was beyond stopping.
Just one taste.
“Answer the question,” I pressed.
“No,” she said with a slight shake of her head, and before she could try to argue, I leaned down and pressed my lips to hers.
I was already going to hell.
Might as well enjoy the ride there.
T.M. (Tracey Marie) Frazier resides in sunny Southwest Florida with her husband and three feisty fur kids.
She attended Florida Gulf Coast University where she specialized in public speaking. After years working in real estate and new home construction, she decided it was finally time to stop pushing her dreams to the back burner and pursue writing seriously.
In the third grade she wrote her very first story about a lost hamster. It earned rave reviews from both her teacher and her parents.
It only took her twenty years to start the next one.
It will not be about hamsters.