18+
Strong Language, Sexually Explicit Content
Story #1 in my "Alphabet Series"
Carter has wanted his best friend Amy from the time they were thirteen and she asked him to help her pick out bikinis for their annual beach trip. But despite them bei...
This chapter will be even longer than chapter 2. There's so many details i want to get into this story that it will make for lengthy chapters.
This chapter in particular is pivotal in Carter and Amy's relationship. And a lot of things will be happening here that will set up the rest of the story so pay attention... and surprise! I said 3 of six chapters would contain smut making this book have a 50% smut rating but... why not make it 66.67%???
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I have to take a sleeping pill in order to calm my nerves enough to rest.
I'd stay up all night otherwise, and there's no way I could possibly drive the four and a half hours to the condo on zero sleep.
And just the same, there's no way that I'd ever ask Amy to.
I wake up to the sound of my alarm beeping in my ear. I swipe my finger across the screen and drop my phone on the bed, I put my forearm over my eyes, taking a few minutes to fully wake up.
It doesn't take me long, and I'm wide awake and out of bed.
Standing in front of the mirror in the bathroom, I take a long look at my reflection.
New clothes-things I'd never normally wear but that don't look as out of place as I figured they would.
Uncomfortable risers in my new shoes that boost my height by at least two full inches, putting me right on scale for Amy's height requirement.
I damn near blind myself putting in the cosmetic colored contact lens, but I finally manage to pop them in after at least a dozen failed attempts. And I don't even want to think about taking them out, but the box says they are good for a week. All I know is that they better be.
I even take a few extra minutes to style my hair I a no-effort look, like the Smartcuts stylist did. Typically, I'd just run my fingers through it a few times and call it good enough.
And as I stand back, checking out the completed look, I begin to feel as different as I look.
I guess there really may be something to the old saying "look good, feel good," but honestly, I think it's mostly a mixture of anxiety and nervous excitement.
I grab my duffle bag and switch off the light, ready to get this day, this week, with Amy started.
I load up the car and go back in to tell mom and Aunt Mary goodbye and let them know we are getting ready to leave.
I walk into mom's room expecting to find mom curled up in bed, sleeping off the remains of the flu, but what I walk into is something I wasn't expecting in the slightest reaches of the dark corners of my mind.
I never knock; it's not a good habit, I know, and it's a habit that i will live to soon regret and immediately do as soon as I open the door and start to walk in and see Aunt Mary with her hand under mom's gown.
