*All characters are the age of 18 or above*
Emma's relationship with Ricky was none too easy. She met him when she was a sophomore in high school and he was a senior. Now she is the senior and he is a sophomore in college. They hadn't begun dating until a year ago.
Emma had light olive skin from being half Italian, but was neither pale nor tan. She was 5'3, relishing in the fact that almost all the guys she'd ever meet would be taller than her. She weighed 100 pounds from being naturally thin and had slight curves on her waist and hips. Her hair was a few inches below her shoulders with straight bangs and it was all a dark brown. Her large brown eyes reminded people of a doll and her lips with its cupid's bow made Ricky hard.
Her boyfriend, Ricky, had around the same kind of skin. He wasn't pale as he spent time in the sun, but he was never "tan." He was 6'1" and had a swimmers body from high school and college athletic swimming. His black hair was kept at medium length, just long enough to cover his ears and sometimes his eyes, but he normally pushed it all back when it fell forward. His eyes were so blue they looked like ice and it often intimidated Emma.
Ricky was a very jealous person. He didn't like Emma to talk to any guy unless it was him, her father, his father, or a teacher. Sometimes he didn't even like her speaking to a male teacher. He liked to where she was at all times and who she was with. And he was very rough with her at most times, though he never hurt her. However, sometimes, very rarely, he would be gentle with her and he was her first and she loved him and she grew accustomed to his ways.
A single text ruined all of that, though. Emma's phone received a text message from a number she did not recognize. Opening it, the text revealed a picture that shocked her. In the picture was a girl with blonde hair and tan skin she only vaguely recognized from school the year before, naked, on her knees giving someone head.
The angle is pointing down on her, so the guy getting the blow job must have taken it. His hand was on her head and Emma knew the tattoo on his arm instantly. Ricky had the same tattoo on the same arm in the same place. Looking at the background of the picture, she also recognized it as Ricky's apartment. Ricky took the picture.
Everything after getting that text was a mess. Emma called out Ricky for cheating on her which he, of course, denied. She showed him the picture, shouting "You're the one who took it!" This was followed by a dramatic and stressful breakup.
A month later Emma's friends dragged her to a party she really didn't feel like going to. They claimed there would be a bunch of cute guys, college guys, for her to dance with to get her mind off of Ricky. Once there Emma soon forgot about the troubles of her breakup and relaxed, dancing to good music with friends and guys.
Her friends had dressed her up for the party. On a normal day, Emma would wear skinny jeans and a tee shirt with some converse, maybe once in awhile she would wear shorts. Her friends put her in a red camisole with no bra as her 34B breasts were perky enough to not need one and a black skirt that although was safe enough to bend over in showed a lot of thigh. Emma was not used to wearing skirts. Her friends also made her wear black wedge heels that made her go from 5'3 to 5'6.
From across the crowded living room where the majority of the party was contained, a very angry Ricky leaned against a wall. He watched Emma dancing with men, letting them touch her arms and her shoulders. Every time she so much as smiled at a guy he felt his anger grow. He stood with a circle of friends and among them was the slut he cheated on Emma with.
He had cheated on his ex girlfriend to test her love for him, to watch her beg him not to leave her for another girl, but the plan had backfired. His ex girlfriend didn't love him enough, apparently.
"Ricky, baby, I'm getting bored of this lame party," the slut whined, hanging on his arm. With a look of distaste, he removed his arm from her grasp and put his empty red cup in her hand. "Go get me another drink." He didn't even look at her, just continued to watch Emma, smiling at some guy she had been talking to for the last ten minutes. He watched as the guy leaned in close to her and whispered something into Emma's ear. Ricky was already planning on how to kick this guy's ass. Emma looked like she had gasped, but she smiled and put a hand over her mouth, while using her free hand to playfully push the guys arm. How dare he make her laugh like that!
That was it. Ricky started making his way through the crowd.
Emma was giggling at every word this guy was saying. She couldn't remember his name, and she couldn't really care. She wasn't actually interested in him, but he was a nice distraction. He was going on and on about his schools lacrosse team so she wasn't paying attention, but then he leaned down and whispered "If I'm boring you, we could do something else." His tone was a teasing one, though, so she didn't take offense.
"Hello, Emma." Ricky's voice surrounded her. Her face paled and she turned her head to see him glaring down at her.
His arms were crossed over his chest and he did not look happy.
"Ricky? What are you doing here?" She gulped down a lump in her throat, trying to not sound intimidated.
"Me? It's a college party, what are you doing here?"
"My friends invited me. Now, if you'll excuse me, I was talking to someone." Emma turned back to the guy she was with.
"I want to talk to you." She ignored him. "I need to talk to you." He continued.
"Want to or need to? Ricky, I-"
Emma was cut off when the slut who ruined her relationship walked up, placing a red cup in Ricky's hand. "Here, baby, I got you vodka." She leaned her head on his shoulder and gave Emma a vicious sneer.
"You can talk to her." Emma turned to the guy she had been speaking to. "I'm sorry, but if you'll excuse me?" She turned from all of them, walking through the crowd, through the kitchen, and out into the empty backyard.
The music from the party could kind of be heard from outside, but it was faint and muffled as the owners of the house the party was at didn't want to get a noise violation. Not wanting to go back inside, Emma pulled out her phone to call her friends. She wanted to go home so she could cry and not let everyone see mascara and eyeliner run down her cheeks.
