Untitled – Ch. 1


I knew that I loved her the second I saw her. The blonde hair, the cute little ass, the perky C’s.

I’ve met a lot of girls like her.

Last month I met a real hottie. We rode the same bus home from campus. I couldn’t keep my eyes off her: those tiny Florida Gators shorts, her dainty, tan legs—and a rack bigger than most Orientals. Around her neck was a modest pendant with a name. Ashley. She had a small mouth and nose, with big eyes that hid behind her glasses. She was on her way home from the gym—beads of sweat still dotted her forehead. She looked confident, content.

We met eyes; they were amber oceans.

I wondered how I never met her before. I ride the bus a lot. I pick a seat and just ride and ride and ride. You can watch a whole city on the bus. You see the , the fat old people with canes, the nerdy losers and the frat-y douches, **descriptions of people, conversations overheard in bus.

But everyone’s riding to somewhere.

We got off at the same stop. It was so convenient! I tried to keep my distance—gentleman-like. She lived in a small single story apartment complex. Two rows of apartments sat facing each other with a parking lot in the middle; bushes lined the face of the building. I watched her saunter into hers. I looked for a good window to peak through. There wasn’t much space between the bushes and the building, but I managed to squeeze my way through and found her bedroom window. The curtains were closed, but they were thin, and at the spot where they met you could see a sliver color. I crouched next to the corner. The only thing louder than the rocks under my feet was the beating in my chest. She appeared moments later. I watched the silhouette of her body get undressed and instantly got a hard-on. The outline of her supple breasts, those pointed nipples, and the sweep of her hips. I didn’t do it there. Not on the first date. See, when you meet girls like I do, you have to take it slow sometimes.

She went to the bathroom and took a shower.

I repeated this courting process at approximately 5:00pm every day. I didn’t always get a such a wonderful show. But just being around her, I felt like I had purpose. I felt excited. I was alive around her. But one day, just as I was getting ready to take our relationship to the next level—pants down between a prickly bush and concrete—she saw me. The look of terror on her face…

That was the end of our relationship.

But this girl, Blondie, I think she’s really the one.

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