around, slamming her into the wall hard and pressing my body firmly against hers, grinding my erection into her hip.
“This has nothing to do with Amy,” I say, wondering why I still can't get that girl out of my mind. “I just don't like you getting involved with Mel and Kent's shit.” Mireya smiles, but it ain't a happy look.
“Because you're worried about me?” she asks, and I don't like where this is going.
“Shut the fuck up,” I tell her, grabbing a condom from my back pocket and unzipping my pants. I slip the latex onto my dick and grab Mireya's ass, lifting her up and slamming her back into the wall. “And stay out of that crap.”
“Is that an order?” she asks me slyly, wrapping her legs around me, so I can slide into her.
“Damn right it is,” I growl as I thrust forward and try not to feel like I'm betraying a girl I don't even know.
I don't know how to feel after my encounter with Austin. My heart is thumping and my body is pulsing, begging me to race outside the doors of the shoe shop and throw myself into his arms. I want him to bend me over again, fill me with his long, hard cock, and grind into me until I scream. At the same time, I feel dejected, almost miserable. Christy still won't look at me, and we end up spending our short outing together looking at black flats and fuchsia heels – neither of which I like, both of which I buy.
“Christy,” I begin when we climb into her car, but she doesn't want to talk to me for whatever reason, blasting the Christian rock station so loud that by the time we get back to our houses, my ears are ringing. I leave her sitting in the hot driveway without another word. Something's bothering my friend, but until she decides she wants to tell me, there's nothing I can do.
“Amy?” my mother asks when I step into the house, blinking the hot sun out of my eyes and passing over my shopping bag without a second thought. My mother always checks my purchases. Always. She nods her head in approval at both pairs of shoes and pats my hand with a smile. “Good girl,” she says, praising me like I'm a dog or something. I try to keep my expression neutral, but an itty-bitty frown manages to crawl onto my face. “Now, your aunt stopped by with your dress. It's on your bed, so be careful not to wrinkle it.” She pauses and watches me as I set my hand on the banister of the staircase, desperate to move up the steps and lock myself into my room, so I can think. Admittedly, I'm a bit confused at the moment, a bit unsure of myself.
Only one thing hasn't changed: I'm still leaving.
Christy, Austin, today, tomorrow – all of these things are small factors that I have to consider, but they will not affect the final outcome. I will be free.
“You're getting your hair done at six, so make sure you're up and showered.” I nod curtly and wait until my mother gives me some sort of sign that it's okay for me to go. This is the way things have always been, so it's the way they're going to stay until I leave. If I act differently beforehand, she'll know something is up, and she'll try to make me stay. I don't want to deal with that. “And paint your nails tonight. We don't have time to get them done.” Yeah, because you moved the wedding all of a sudden, presumably for my benefit. I feel a bit sorry for Jodie, but there's not much I can do about it. My family as a collective whole does not care about individual happiness. It's all about the image we present to the community and the rules that are carved into our souls with blood. “Now go along and get some rest,” she says, finally dismissing me from her rule.
When I get into my room, I drop my shoes to the floor and pull off my sweater, throwing it to the ground and opening the windows in my room wide, so I can lean out and feel the hot breeze against my cheek. I can still taste Austin's mouth, feel his hands on my hips and his body inside of mine. I want him so bad it hurts, and I can't tell if it's just the sex
“This has nothing to do with Amy,” I say, wondering why I still can't get that girl out of my mind. “I just don't like you getting involved with Mel and Kent's shit.” Mireya smiles, but it ain't a happy look.
“Because you're worried about me?” she asks, and I don't like where this is going.
“Shut the fuck up,” I tell her, grabbing a condom from my back pocket and unzipping my pants. I slip the latex onto my dick and grab Mireya's ass, lifting her up and slamming her back into the wall. “And stay out of that crap.”
“Is that an order?” she asks me slyly, wrapping her legs around me, so I can slide into her.
“Damn right it is,” I growl as I thrust forward and try not to feel like I'm betraying a girl I don't even know.
I don't know how to feel after my encounter with Austin. My heart is thumping and my body is pulsing, begging me to race outside the doors of the shoe shop and throw myself into his arms. I want him to bend me over again, fill me with his long, hard cock, and grind into me until I scream. At the same time, I feel dejected, almost miserable. Christy still won't look at me, and we end up spending our short outing together looking at black flats and fuchsia heels – neither of which I like, both of which I buy.
“Christy,” I begin when we climb into her car, but she doesn't want to talk to me for whatever reason, blasting the Christian rock station so loud that by the time we get back to our houses, my ears are ringing. I leave her sitting in the hot driveway without another word. Something's bothering my friend, but until she decides she wants to tell me, there's nothing I can do.
“Amy?” my mother asks when I step into the house, blinking the hot sun out of my eyes and passing over my shopping bag without a second thought. My mother always checks my purchases. Always. She nods her head in approval at both pairs of shoes and pats my hand with a smile. “Good girl,” she says, praising me like I'm a dog or something. I try to keep my expression neutral, but an itty-bitty frown manages to crawl onto my face. “Now, your aunt stopped by with your dress. It's on your bed, so be careful not to wrinkle it.” She pauses and watches me as I set my hand on the banister of the staircase, desperate to move up the steps and lock myself into my room, so I can think. Admittedly, I'm a bit confused at the moment, a bit unsure of myself.
Only one thing hasn't changed: I'm still leaving.
Christy, Austin, today, tomorrow – all of these things are small factors that I have to consider, but they will not affect the final outcome. I will be free.
“You're getting your hair done at six, so make sure you're up and showered.” I nod curtly and wait until my mother gives me some sort of sign that it's okay for me to go. This is the way things have always been, so it's the way they're going to stay until I leave. If I act differently beforehand, she'll know something is up, and she'll try to make me stay. I don't want to deal with that. “And paint your nails tonight. We don't have time to get them done.” Yeah, because you moved the wedding all of a sudden, presumably for my benefit. I feel a bit sorry for Jodie, but there's not much I can do about it. My family as a collective whole does not care about individual happiness. It's all about the image we present to the community and the rules that are carved into our souls with blood. “Now go along and get some rest,” she says, finally dismissing me from her rule.
When I get into my room, I drop my shoes to the floor and pull off my sweater, throwing it to the ground and opening the windows in my room wide, so I can lean out and feel the hot breeze against my cheek. I can still taste Austin's mouth, feel his hands on my hips and his body inside of mine. I want him so bad it hurts, and I can't tell if it's just the sex
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