Age is just a number. Or at least that's what Maxwell Cooper thinks whenever he hits on his best friend's mother, Amanda, who is very much divorced and extremely attractive in his eyes. Amanda, highly aware of the obvious infatuation that Maxwell has on her, tries to avoid his advances towards her given their conflicting age differences. She speculates that Maxwell's attraction towards older women is deeply rooted to fact that he might just have some 'Mommy issues'. Maxwell refutes the hypothesis by claiming that he's only attracted to her , not older women in general. Both are put to the test when Amanda , returning from yet another failed date one night, runs into Maxwell who notices the tears in her eyes and proceeds to comfort her. This leads to her inviting her to her house which would be a convenient move seeing as Zac, Maxwell's best friend and Amanda's son, had gone to visit his father in New York for the weekend, leaving her alone for the weekend. They end up sharing a bottle of wine, getting drunk while reminiscing on the simpler days. A kiss is shared during the vulnerable moment between these two, which would lead to regrets and broken friendships.
View More"Lay down and let me take care of you," Surprisingly enough, just hearing her say those words to me was like music to my young , adolescent ears, its ring swimming inside my neurons, down my spine in a cold shiver before encircling my heart to pump unwanted blood between my boy parts, if you know what I mean. She became this sexy nurse as she led me to my bed, gently laid me down, securing a pillow under my head before seating right beside me, her warmth staining through my sheets and over to my garments before clinging there, like clingy ex girlfriend. Her scent was like this haunting cloud encapsulating us in a welcomed embrace , sliding into my nostrils , bathing my sinuses with its alluring effect and I wanted to dive my nose into the crook of her neck and drink in the scent of her perfume. Unlike Roxie's cheap perfume, Amanda's was intoxicatingly good as I got drunk in its effects. Probably that Victoria Secret perfume I saw on her nightstand whilst 'accidentally' spying on he
They say too much of something is annoying, well, I found that out myself when I decided to crawl out of bed after three hours of non stop interaction with it. I never thought I could hate my bed given its comforting nature and tranquility but here we are. Unmade, with food scraps dusted all over it, I detested it for the first time in years. Turns out, having a sick day isn't as glorious as they make it out to be. I trudged down the stairs and into the kitchen, my tired eyes spotting a yellow sticky note plastered on the refrigerator door , mom's handwriting adorned over it;Remember to reheat the chicken noodle soup, don't eat it cold!Incase of emergency, call me. Love, Mom. True to the letter, the soup sat idly by inside the microwave with another note stuck to the soup bowl, reminding me yet again to reheat the soup. I mentally rolled my eyes at how overbearing mom can be. Ripping it off, I crumpled it into a tiny ball before tossing it into the trash and proceeded to preheat t
I was thinking of ways to kill myself...or at least ways to get myself sick so that I won't have to go to school today. Google wasn't offering much and YouTube had given me a few ideas like licking door knobs and maybe the toilet seat because germs seem to take solace in such places, with fruitful results . One thing for certain is that there's literally no way I was going to bend down to lick any toilet seat. I'm not that desperate.Actually, I kind of was.The impending anxiety attack I was about to suffer made me feel all nauseous , stomach churning violently in dire need of some bathroom relief in the form of explosive diarrhea. My heart rate increasing exponentially aggravating the already worsening stomach ache. And I tossed and turned in bed like a chicken rotisserie , occasionally stealing fearful glances at my alarm clock as it draws nearer and nearer to the time of my waking. I really dreaded my morning alarms, dodged them three times before reluctantly heeding to its dema
When you're high, everything around you seems...magical!The walls are breathing, boasting with purple and pink glittery showers on their surface and the ground feels like marshmallow, if that makes any sense. Of course, it doesn't , taking it in retrospect seeing as I am stoned right now and my visual imagery in this current state might not be any way sensible. But here I am, recovering from that highly coveted state by any addict undergoing drug withdrawals, as I gulp down as much water to get rid of this cotton-y feeling inside my mouth. Two tall glasses of water down.Everything is still, the sound of the quiet kitchen providing the perfect ambience to any horror movie. I hate that I'm standing right here, alone, in the dark and the paranoid soul inside my body is begging for me to just bolt back upstairs and hide under my bulky beddings because it swears it heard something rustling outside the kitchen window. I don't do that , though. I'm not really scared of the darkness. Nob
" What the actual fuck!" A guttural growl she made at the catastrophe that befell her shirt, noticing the water had spilled all the way down to her torso, missing her pelvis by a fraction but that wasn't better. Her hands raised to her sides, Amanda gazed back down at the mess that embraced her attire. Right there and then, the shrill cry of the school bell pierced through the already chaotic atmosphere as students rushed to their classes, except for me and her , leaving us to assess the damage of the situation. That's when I realized the eroticism of this mess. Her shirt was see-through. Her shirt was fucking see-through! You know what that means? I got a detailed sight of what hid behind that white crisp button down shirt of hers that was soaking wet and to add spice into the already arousing sight, the fabric of wetness appeared to be clinging onto her like a second skin. I couldn't peel my gaze away from her. I was momentarily hypnotized by the evident black bra that was callin
" Vagina or Dick?" That was today's topic of heated discussion amongst our friend group. You'd think we'd have better things to discuss, you know, stuff like Global warming and its causes or how we could stop it, or Increased inflation rate and how it's affected our economy,or high costs of living or how Joe Biden is slowly ruining America but after an hour of weed smoking, our brains fried, we chose to discuss the reproductive systems; because why not? Which is the better one? Why is it better than the other one and all that nonsense. The back building was like our little oasis, cloistering us from the good kids. We were the school's degenerate gang and mixing the good fruits with the rotten ones guaranteed a possible epidemic of decaying students. So we separated ourselves from the good harvest, sprawled out in the grass behind the back building, Tyson rolled up a joint and passed it around while Emerald chugged down the alcohol she snuck to school this morning. After ten puffs
Chapter may contain explicit scenes.You have been warned. " You're very late, again! " She was standing behind her desk, arms crossed under her plump breasts, stilletoed foot tapping impatiently on the linoleum floors, regarding me with her infamous glares. " I'm sorry, traffic was crazy this morning," Having made my way over to my desk, I slumped down on it, shrugging my backpack off as it fell to the ground in a blunt thud. " I'm not buying that excuse again, Young man," I wince at the sound of the title Young man. " That's what you said yesterday when you showed up in here forty-five minutes late." " I'm sorry, I truly am," I breathe a sigh of frustration, raking my hand through my dishevelled hair. I hadn't slept well last night, my alarm was messed up and everything was a bit overwhelming with the end of semester exams crawling in the corner. I manifested another D minus grade, seeing as I hadn't glanced at my books in the name of studying . That would further earn me a po
" God, you look like you got hit by a make up truck!" Roxie doesn't hesitate to throw a sharp punch on my shoulder at the insensitive comment aimed at her lack of make up applying skills. Honestly, even a clown make up was far more impressive that whatever she had on her face, in the name of make up. " And you look like you buy your clothes at the school's lost and found section," Her pathetically drawn eyebrows shoot up, seemingly impressed by her below average insult at my clothing option of a sky blue button down shirt that was well tucked in inside my brown khakis, black loafers snugged under my feet, no socks because my pigs were sweating like mushrooms. " Hey!" Mom shouts from above the stairs, putting on her golden loop earrings on her left earlobe, gingerly descending down the flight of stairs. " no fighting tonight. Or else I'll be forced to ground both your asses till you graduate." Once she reaches the last staircase, she takes one look at both of us, a halfhearted smil
"Son of a biscuit!" Crouched down with a socket wrench tightly gripped in her hand, Amanda cursed angrily as she surveyed her front left tire that seemed to be flat. Call me a misogynist but I have never seen a woman change a tire before. They don't really have the manpower to do that sorta thing so watching from afar as Amanda struggled to loosen some lug nuts on her flattened tire, I couldn't hide my amused smirk at the scene. God,she looked so helpless right now but then again , aren't all women? " Fuck!" Another curse disguised as a cry for help , dropping the socket wrench on the ground as it clanked loudly at the impact of the hard cemented ground. Her hair formed a translucent veil over her face , obscuring her priceless facial expression, taking away the joy of me laughing at her angered face. She's wearing red heels and a nice professional dark blue short sleeved pencil dress that was riding up her thighs enticingly as she crouched down, exposing a fraction of that smooth f
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