Introduction:
CAPITAL NAMES means the story is being told from that person's perspective. I'm thinking about writing a sequel to this story, but I might leave it as a one-off. Please leave your comments and constructive criticisms; I always want to hear people's opinions whether they be negative or positive. Hope you enjoy! .
LAURIE
My brother is shy. Shyness is endearing up to a point, but at eighteen years old, it goes from cute, to m. You think he’d get out of his fucking shell by now, but nope; Tom is still the awkward, apprehensive boy he’s been his entire life. He’ll be heading off to college soon, and if he doesn’t open up, the best years of his life are going to be spent jerking it in a dorm. He’s a sweet kid, (listen to me patronizing him; he’s a year older than me for fuck’s sake!), but sweetness doesn’t get you very far in this world. He’s not a child anymore, and he needs someone to kill the boy and uncage the man. I guess that’ll have to be me.
Before your dirty, little mind runs rampant with incestuous fantasies, let me tell you now, that I have no intention of fucking my brother. Would you fuck your brother? I didn’t think so. That being said, I am going to get that poor bastard laid. I have a friend who needs to go to the prom. This friend had an incident earlier this year that made her quite unpopular with…everyone. Eleanor is this unfortunate moron, and ignoring the aforementioned incident, she’s actually quite the catch. Let me describe her to you; she’s looking away from me now, so I feel safe giving her a once-over. Don’t judge me for ogling; this is for your benefit.
She has red hair that flows from the crown of her head in an even part, and then bows inwardly at a sharp, angled cut, just below her jawline. She has pale, freckled skin, apple cheeks, a pointed nose, and full, luscious lips, which she keeps sheened with a layer of red lipstick. Her eyes are large, and sparkle with green irises that cement her obvious Irish ancestry. Pretty cute, huh? Well, her face could certainly be described as such, but her body requires more…adult adjectives. Her neck is long, and elegantly slopes into a delicate collarbone that connects two, narrow shoulders. Her breasts protrude from her chest in full D-cups, though their size does not feel exaggerated. She’s no athlete, so her abdomen isn’t toned, but it’s flat and layered with silky skin. Eleanor often brags that her best asset is her ass, and makes sure to add an affectation in the word “ass-et,” just for good measure. I can’t disagree with her; her ass is great. Full, thick glutes round together in supple domes that curve teasingly from her hips, and crease vulgarly into the crack between them. They seem to perch just above her thighs in a gravity-defying bulge, and when she walks, they flex in a teasing cadence of alternating lasciviousness.
Did you get a good picture? She’s pretty hot, huh? Well, she certainly thought so when she decided to go streaking during the Class A semifinals, and ended up causing our starting quarterback to break his tibia. Yeah…it’s a long story, but you can get why she’s unpopular at the moment. Maybe unpopular enough to lower her standards to a lonely, pathetic senior who needs a date to the prom.
“Psst, Ellie,” I whisper to her in chemistry class, “you got a date for prom yet?”
“You know I don’t,” Eleanor hisses back, “and you don’t need to be a cunt and rub it in.”
“I can set you up with a senior,” I smile, “a good-looking boy who just needs a girl with a pulse to hold his arm.”
“Ew,” Eleanor says, making a face, “you’re brother?! I can do better.”
“Don’t be a bitch,” I giggle, “Tom’s a nice guy.”
“That’s exactly the problem, Laura,” Eleanor frowns, “what the fuck am I going to do with a nice guy?”
