The Adventures Of A Promiscuous Teen Girl

Chapter One - Daddy

Lexi's POV

I lowered my sunglasses to protect my eyes from the glare of the sun, my heels clicked almost impatiently along the pavement. Shit, I thought, I'm late. My footsteps sped, and I ignored the ache and dull cramping in my left foot. A light sweat formed above my upper lip and I began to regret my choice of clothing: black jeans, heavy duty leather high heeled boots, and a thick, tight, black leather jacket. Yes, on the one day that England decided to grace us with beautiful weather.

Younger girls are out today, clad in denim shorts that barely cover their smooth skin. I don't like them. The girls, that is, the shorts on the other hand, I was all for. Perhaps I was a pervert, and my eyes wondered too far, or maybe it's just a perk of been attracted to both sexes.

Who am I kidding? I'm definitely a pervert.

I laughed to myself, and got an odd look from a stranger, I glared back and continued walking. As I walked passed him, I glanced over my shoulder and caught him checking me out. Bloody cheek! I winked.  He blinked back and I smirked. I never understood men like that, he clearly thought I was odd, but was shamelessly goggling my ass. Surely that's double standards on my behalf though, checking out girls who I clearly don't like.

Who am I if I don't appreciate a piece of good ass?

It had been too long since I'd even touched another girl's ass, downs of having a boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend; I corrected myself begrudgingly. I dumped him and still have feelings for him, long story. I pushed him out of my mind, enjoying the day and all the long legged girls wondering around in shorts and crop tops. They were probably all straight.

I caught a girl's eye and winked, testing her for a reaction. She looked at me with disgust! Bitch. I stuck two fingers up at her and proceeded to lick in between them. I then walked on, swinging my hips. Why can't a girl come up to me and just kiss me? Maybe it was because I looked like a skinny, sweating pig in a leather jacket; the very definition of sexy. It's probably inappropriate of me to think of our last Prime Minister after that sentence.

I finally saw my college in the distance, deciding I'd rather be a couple of more minutes late than sprint there. I really didn't have the energy, especially after a night of procrastinating about work and life, and then doing nothing but make tea and watch Netflix. I knew that I was going to be in trouble, and I nearly didn't come in, but I got a call from my dad and that was enough to get me out.

Caroline, a popular girl, was hanging around outside of college smoking what smelt like a splif. Her top was a tiny croptop that barely covered her breasts, she was wearing a pair of shorts that fit her round ass, and some gold gladiator sandles. It was a rare occasion, as she wasn't wearing makeup, and I could actually see her face. She was sort of pretty, I guessed.

As I sauntered into reception to sign in, the office ladies glared at me, looking me up and down in disapproval. I raised an eyebrow at the one in front of me as I signed in. She was wearing a worryingly curtain-like, floral, pink and green cardigan. Now, I may have looked a little like an escort, but at least I had some kind of standards. I mumbled a quiet "thanks" before making my way to class.

Mr Edwards was midway through a sentence about Internet safety when I came stumbling in the door. "What time do you call this?" He raised his voice. I looked at my phone. "Umm, well I'd call it 9:30am and you'd probably call it after school detention for an hour" I lazily looked up at him and he was fuming. "You're 45 minutes late Lexi, damn right you'll be in after school detention, but for the rest of the week!" I wasn't bothered by him. "Woah, okay Sugar, calm down! I think you need to take a chill pill." At this point I was playing with him, because it's fun to see how far he'll go. "You must address me as sir." He said in an unsteady voice, trying to be calm. I walked over to his desk, my heels click clacking along the ceramic tiling. I bent over his desk, earning a wolf whistle from behind and leant in close to his ear. "Honey, if I you want me to address you as something you're not," my breath was hot on the side of his face, tingling the fine hairs that he missed while shaving this morning, "then I'll call you daddy".