“I can't believe we're doing this,” I said to Noelle, my nerves already shot. “This is so crazy.”
It was the next day, Sunday, just after noon, and the two of us were lurking down the street from Tim's house. We were half-hiding behind a huge magnolia tree as if we were just two goofy girls playing some kind of game.
We were both in skimpy shorts and halter tops, Noelle's idea. Our blatant sex appeal apparently had a great deal to do with her plan.
Which, she assured me, was brilliant. Whatever it was.
“It'll work,” she insisted. “You just don't get how sexy you really are. Or how beautiful. I'm telling you, you're impossible to resist. But when we meet him, just let me do all the talking.”
“We're like stalkers,” I said.
Of course, that was true enough of me anyway.
Over the last couple of weeks, ever since the handsome dark-haired boy I was in love with silently walked away from me, and then came back only to catch me having insane sex in the old van, I'd found myself spending time in his neighborhood.
Near his house, near his school, even hanging around at the Greenbriar Mall more than usual. Hoping against hope to see him. To, by chance, talk to him.
But it was crazy and I knew it.
No normal 6th-grade boy (still hopelessly naive at that age) could watch a little 5th-grade girl he cared about being eagerly pin-cushioned by three boys' stiff cocks and ever forget it.
Or forgive it.
It was painfully clear I was just too much of an out-of-control little cock-crazed dirty slut for a normal relationship with a normal boy. And I knew it.
“But what exactly are you going to say?” I wanted to know. “Please…”
But, instead of answering me, Noelle pointed.
“There he is,” she said, and I looked around the big magnolia tree. It was Tim all right, walking the other way. In the direction of the Greenbriar Mall. “Come on, Maureen,” she said. “Let's go.”
“Oh, God…”
Inside the Greenbriar Mall, Noelle and I followed Tim at enough of a distance so he wouldn't know we were there.
He was in the standard almost-a-teen outfit, jeans and a black t-shirt, his tennis shoes untied in that 'cool' way that might one day get caught in something mechanical or dangerous that'd kill him. But, besides that, he looked great to me.
So much so, in fact, that I was having trouble catching my breath.
“I can't breathe,” I gasped to Noelle. “Seriously, I have to sit down.”
She just gave me a look. Then she pointed to a wooden mall bench.
“Stay here,” she advised. “I'll go talk to him right now.”
“You will?” I stammered, but dropped down onto the bench. “I thought we were both going to do it…”
Noelle smiled down at me.
She looked genuinely irresistible in her skimpy cotton shorts, light blue, with both the butt and the crotch of them clinging to her in a way that left little to the imagination. As gorgeous as she was anyway, the obvious bulge of her clearly defined cameltoe at the front of her flimsy shorts made her even more divine.
Sexually, at least.
And her large round boobs, under a halter top that displayed her slim middle but was barely able to restrain either their size or their heaviness, made her look every bit as if she was a well-endowed young adult. Instead of the mere 14-year-old schoolgirl she really was.
I had to shake my head with a little laugh, thinking about it. Noelle was really something, in anybody's book, but she was still just a kid. But then, with a start, I realized the same could be said about me.
God.
“I'll bring him over here to you,” Noelle promised. “Once he sees you in those little shorts and that halter, without a bra or panties, it'll kill him. I want to eat you up myself, just looking at your crotch and your tits. He'll be dying to go with us ”
I looked up at that.
“Go with us?” I asked, puzzled. “You didn't say anything about that before. Go where?”
The super-hot 14-year-old cheerleader, my friend and lover, just shrugged.
“You'll see,” she told me. “Just sit tight. And try not to wet your pants. On second thought, go right ahead. A nice wet spot on the crotch of those tight little shorts couldn't hurt.”
And then she walked straight over to where Tim was looking into the window of the video game store.