This Could Turn Into Something (oneshots)

She is more than a one night stand

Racing Home

The heat made her clothes stick tightly to her skin. She had a hard time peeling off her gray sweatshirt to reveal a tight pink top. The neckline was low and without the looseness of the sweatshirt, her curves were on display. A few shameless boys had begun to crane their necks to get a better look. To make matters worse, the boy in front of her desk turned around to hand her a piece of paper. She took it, their fingers brushing lightly. His eyes lingered on her body before she scowled at him. Blood rushed to his face, he turned away while muttering an apology.

She scrawled the notes down and completed the lesson faster than most of the other students. As she got up to put her notebook away, she felt eyes on her skin. Her pants went down to her knees, however they didn't fit right. The pants hugged her wide hips and every other curve. She blushed on her way back to her seat.

The blaring ringing of the bell called for class to end and the next one to begin. Lazily, she grabbed her books, making her way through the crowd of gossipers. In the hallway, it was so much easier for people to say stuff to her and get away with it. Cat calls and whistles came in her direction. Yet, it wasn't as if she was the only girl with a voluptuous body. It didn't even matter that she had undulation in all the appropriate places. Even slender girls with tiny chests and narrow hips got suggestive gestures made at them from bold boys. She was just another victim.

The teacher in her next class droned on and on about things that wouldn't even cross her mind years from now. She just wanted to go home. Wanting to get a good grade, she begun doing her work. But, she could not focus. Doodles covered the rest of her notebook paper. The bell pulled her out of her trance. Happily, she put on headphones and made her way home.

The walk was long, but the weather was cooler than inside the school. With headphones in, she walked a but slower. There were certain songs that reminded her of some things. She reminisced on an earlier life. Other songs made her think of what would be a perfect music video. Then there were the songs that reminded her of her books. She would replay scenes that she had read over and over that fit to the music as if it was written for it.

Halfway home, she passed by a stranger. Her mouth was open and chomping loudly on gum. When the stranger walked by, she tasted the lemon cigarette. It was a familiar taste. Not that she has even smoked a cigarette, nor does she like lemon flavored anything. The events of last year flooded into her head.

Obviously, she was a year younger than now. And he was much much older than her. The two of them stood on the balcony. No one could see them or hear them. The balcony was low and not enough to see over the closely built houses. It was late afternoon. In this city, people were outside or working. The houses had their lights off and window shades down. One single strand of light poured in from the west. It made a square on the railing that continued to the floor of the balcony.

He wasn't the most attractive guy in the world. Compared to actors and models, he was average. Thin and tall. Pretty eyes and clear skin. They were just talking until he pulled her close and pressed his lips against hers. Her heart raced. She kissed boys before. Little pecks on the lips that really didn't mean anything. But this wasn't that type of kiss. In this kiss, there was tongue and teeth. Somehow, she couldn't stop herself. He had been the one to pull away and then pull her back in. He was a smoker, she knew. And he had just finished his lemon cigarette

She went back to the present. For a moment she thought about the staring boys. They made her skin crawl. She also thought about how she really wasn't any better than them. A living aphrodisiac was all she was to them. It wasn't like she never fantasized about boys. Maybe even a girl here or there out of curiosity.

A close friend of hers had taken off his shirt to go swimming. The darkness of his skin and each contour line of muscle was stunning. His swim shorts hung low passed his v-line. Now only if some how he would take the rest of his clothes off...

She thought back about the older guy on the balcony. He never talked to her again after that. It didn't bother her in the least. She wanted to see what the wild side of kissing was like. She had seen it and was done for now. With the other boys she met at parties, she kissed them like that. They seemed satisfied with her talents. Many of them tried to run their hands all over her. She wanted to have fun, but to an extent. She would make out whomever. But touching and other things seemed to be too much. It was too close to sex for her. Making out didn't mean much, but any further and she knew that she would regret it.

By some means, this labeled her as a slut amongst her peers. Whereas guys could brag about blow jobs and sex, she couldn't even mention that she kissed a total of two different guy in a month. She never meant to show off her body as it was displayed now. Other girls could wear those types of clothes and look like they are ready for church.

Perhaps, she was just one of those girls that were just always sexually harassed. She recalled middle school and all of the awkward looking boys who claimed to be her boyfriend. She was one of the first girls to develop breasts. She was skinnier then, too.

Nowadays, attractive boys go up to her and ask her out. She grew into her body and facial features. She was nice looking. All the awkward boys steered clear of her. Apparently, she was out of their league. However, she noticed that the awkward boys would always end up treating her with respect. The attractive boys just seemed to want to get in her pants.

A part of her wanted to get into their pants as well. On Facebook, the boys posted pictures of themselves. Shirtless glory. Each boy had at least a four pack. Some had happy trails which led to- well, you know. Their arms looked strong and it would be a dream to be carried in them.

It was strange. All of a sudden bodies became things to look at and get off on. Movies portrayed their leads as sex symbols. She might as well be a sex symbol, too. All girls were. She started to believe that guys really don't care about looks. If it has a vagina, then go for it. Looks really mattered more the girls it seemed. Girls claim that they want a guy with a great personality. In reality, they want a six packed and well hung sex god.

Maybe growing up was all about raging hormones telling you to sleep with this person because of their hotness. She shook all of these racing thoughts away. She had made it home.