I was lying in my bed, fantasizing as usual, when I came across this totally erotic scene in my head. When I sleep over my friend’s house I usually sleep in a sleeping bag on the floor. My friend, her name in the story is Monique, has those glow in the dark stars and planets all over her ceiling. Which lead me to thinking about sleeping outside under the stars, which somehow lead me to thinking of sex outside under a blanket of stars. I don’t know why, I’m a pervert, whatever. Anyway, this was my inspiration for the story, glow in the dark stars and a sleeping bag, enjoy.
“Monique! Where the hell did you hide the sleeping bag?” I yelled, looking through the messy hall closet.
“It’s in there, damn Mel calm down!”
“Shut up, I found it,” I said, picking the sleeping bag out of the mess and walking back into Monique’s room.
Monique was wearing her usual, silk pajama shorts and a silk tank top in break-your heart-tart red. Her breasts pointed out, almost pouting with her nipples poking through the smooth material. Her black hair was pulled up into a sloppy bun and little curls fell around her face. She had long, smooth, tanned legs that were thin and delicate looking. The skimpy shorts were slung low on her hips, exposing her lower abdomen and her belly button, the scanty tank top skirting high on her stomach. Perfect, was all I could think, she’s perfect. I looked at my reflection in the mirror, my oversized T-shirt hid most of my figure, or what there was of it. The hem hung down low over mid thigh and my skimpy little Victoria’s Secret panties with a delicate feather pattern weren’t visible. What there is of my figure is long legs, much too long and too toned, too athletic to be sexy. Large hips, an ass like a shelf, and abs that were too defined. My breasts are too full and are often in the way and look like if I stood up straight I should fall forward. Dark red hair that framed a white and freckled face, dark blue eyes that are plain and a bottom lip that’s too full. I’m not like Monique, in a word she’s desirable. In a word, I’m awkward.
“A shot for the birthday girl!” Monique chirped cheerfully.
“A shot? There better be more,” I said with a laugh and tossed back the shot. The liquid burned my throat and left a cinnamon after taste in my mouth. “More.”
“Drunk,” Monique accused with a laugh.
“I won’t deny it,” I said and poured myself another. There was a knock at the door and I hid the shot glass, no one should be home.
“Relax, it’s me,” Monique’s older, and might I say hot, brother said, stepping in the room with a brown paper bag in his hand. “Hey Birthday girl,” Shawn said and beamed his radiant smile at me. “Got you a present.” His green eyes sparkled wickedly. He had shaggy black hair, an angular face, and a nice toned body. God, I thought.
“Oh, thanks,” I said. Awkward, yeah that’s me, can’t even look at an attractive guy without getting all flustered. I’ve had sex before, I’m not inexperienced, but I’m not Monique. No, Monique is what you’d call a sex connoisseur. I’ve had sex a whopping six times, but I’m used to masturbation. I started early, learning my body’s wants and needs, so I pretty much ruined it for any other guy.
“Here,” Shawn said, handing me the brown bag, snatching my hand, and pulling me into his arms. He laid his lips on mine, sucked my bottom lip between his and nibbled. I melted…
“Happy Birthday,” he said with a grin. He slapped his hand against my ass with an audible ‘crack’, and broke the embrace. “We’ll finish those spankings later when Monique’s snorin’.”
“Stop hitting on my friends you little slut,” Monique said and threw a pillow at her brother.
Shawn didn’t break eye contact with me until I looked at the floor and then at Monique. She wasn’t mad? I thought. Man….
“What is it you girls do in these all night chick rituals?” Shawn asked.
