by Mia Ford
“Hey, Rebecca,” Rob said, smirking at my younger sister. “You look good. Remember me?”
Well, any guys except for Rob, I guess.
“Yeah,” Rebecca said. “What do you want? Why are you over here?”
“I’m starving,” I said, walking into the kitchen. “Come on, tell me Molly has a cake or something hidden in there.”
“Jesus! Stop it,” Rebecca snapped. “You have to promise to be good, or I’ll throw you out.”
I shrugged. “Whatever,” I said. “Make some pasta, will you.”
Rebecca seethed but after a moment, she stepped into the kitchen and set a large pot of water to boil. Rob kicked back in the living room while I looked through the fridge and found a six pack of light beer. Grabbing two cans, I tossed one to Rob and settled down on the couch.
“Hey,” Rebecca called. “That’s Molly’s beer! Don’t drink it all!”
“Molly likes beer?” I popped the can open and slurped some cold suds down. “No shit!”
“Yeah,” Rebecca said, eyeing me warily. “Just be nice, okay?”
I gave her an innocent smile at batted my lashes like a girl. “I am nice,” I said. “Right, Rob?”
“Huh?” Rob turned to me, his lids hanging low over his eyes like he was stoned.
“Never mind, retard,” I said. “I was just saying how nice I am, that’s all.”
“Oh. Oh, yeah, Alex is real nice,” Rob said.
“Shut up, fucker,” I said. Getting to my feet, I stretched and belched loudly before pouring the rest of the beer down my throat and sauntering down the hall.
“Molly, oh Molly, where are you,” I called, glancing into each room as I passed.
“Leave her alone!” Rebecca called from the kitchen. “I wouldn’t blame her if she was hiding in the closet because of you!”
I burst out laughing. “Unlike you, darling sister, I’m pretty confident Molly never had to worry about being in the closet,” I called back loudly. “We all know you’re a pining dyke, but Molly is straight as an arrow.”
Just as I was about to open a closed door at the end of the hall, it swung open. Molly stood there in cotton shorts that rode up her round thighs and a faded t-shirt. Her tits hung heavily, the nipples poking through the cotton. A wave of molten lust crawled through my body at the sight of her scantily-clad frame.
“What do you want?” Molly asked.
“I wanted to see you,” I said, leaning against the doorframe and smirking. “Come on, I’m sorry about last time. I shouldn’t have made you cry.”
Molly didn’t reply.
“How was your date, anyway?” I asked casually, leaning against the doorframe. “Have fun?”
Molly narrowed her eyes. “Since when do you care?”
“Hey, I’m a nice guy,” I said, cocking my head to the side. “And I’m interested in the little sister of my best friend.”
Molly’s eyes went wide and her mouth formed a small ‘o.’
“What?” I asked. “I’m your friend too, right?”
“She’s not your friend!” Rebecca yelled.
I stepped closer, close enough for my hand to brush against Molly’s bare, plump thigh. Up close, she smelled like strawberries and vanilla and my cock started to throb in my pants.
“Well?” I asked softly. “Are you?”
“I don’t know,” Molly said. She bit her lip.
“Tell me about your date,” I said. Suddenly, I was dying to know. I wanted to know if Molly had been fucked so hard she couldn’t walk away. I wanted to know if she’d moaned and sweated and called a male name loudly into the air.
“He was gay.”
My eyebrows shot up. “What?”
“You heard me,” Molly said warily. She took a step back and I looked over her short frame into her room. It was girlish – lots of pastel pink and tulle everywhere – and I could smell a sweet, musky scent coming from the bed. It made me want to lie down and hump the mattress until my cock was bloody.
“So, he was gay and he still asked you out? What happened there?”
Molly flushed. She gnawed on her lip with creamy white teeth and I was tempted to tangle my hand in her hair and pull her close, kiss until she began to moan.
“I asked him out,” she said in a voice so quiet I could barely hear her.
“My sister’s making pasta,” I said. “Come out of your room, have a beer with me and you can meet my friend Rob.”
Molly bit her lip again. The temptation to grab her and pull her close was stronger than ever before but I ignored it, willing my cock to go flaccid so Molly wouldn’t see.
“Come on,” I said. “A little spaghetti to soothe the pain of your homosexual date?”
Molly burst out laughing, then gave me a guilty look. “I shouldn’t have laughed at that,” she said, shaking her head and letting her brown curls fall over her shoulders. “But I was so surprised.”
I got the impression that Molly wasn’t used to being candid with anyone except for Rebecca.
“Well, tell me about it,” I cajoled. “Come on, over a snack.”
Molly sighed. She closed her eyes and a deep crease appeared in her forehead. Against my better judgment, I stepped forward, wrapped my arm around her thick waist, and crushed her to my body. Molly barely had time to cry out before I pressed my lips to hers, tasting that strawberry and vanilla, tasting her secret self.
Molly wilted in my arms. She threw her wrists around my neck and swooned. I slipped my tongue into her mouth and Molly moaned.
She’s never been kissed , I realized. This is her first time .
The kiss was sloppy, but intoxicating – like strawberry wine, or peaches and cream. Sliding my hands down Molly’s back, I cupped her ass and squeezed the skin in my hands, kneading her cheeks through the thin shorts until she was squirming and whimpering into my mouth.
Yeah , I thought. Yeah, girl, you like that? There’s a whole lot more for you .
“Mmmm,” Molly purred. She broke away, her lip glistening with saliva. Her pale cheeks were bright red and she was breathing hard. My cock twitched stiffly in my pants and I suppressed a groan. I wanted to throw her over my shoulder and right into bed, but I restrained myself. Molly slowly pulled away. Her eyes flicked over me like that of a nervous doe’s.
“What was that?” Molly asked. “Why did you kiss me?” Her voice was barely above a whisper.
“I wanted to,” I said with a shrug. “Was it okay?”
Molly squirmed. Her flush deepened to a crimson red and she bit her lip, licking away the taste of me.
Stepping close, I took Molly’s wrists and pushed her backwards. She cried out in surprise as she fell on her bed. In second, I climbed on top of her and pinned her down.
“You’re a virgin,” I growled in Molly’s ear. Gently nipping and sucking at her earlobe, I traced my tongue around the hot spiral of flesh.
Molly didn’t answer with words, only a whimper. She arched her back and her enormous tits pushed against my chest, driving me wild.
“I’m going to fuck you,” I whispered in her ear, trailing my fingernail down Molly’s exposed neck. She was breathing hard and a warm, musky scent filled my nostrils – the scent of her pussy juice, waiting for me to lap it up like a hungry dog.
“Mn,” Molly whimpered.
“And you’re going to like it,” I added.
For a second, we lay tangled like lovers. Then, with a breathtaking amount of restraint, I climbed off the bed, walked out of Molly’s room, and sauntered down the hall.
“Hey, Rebecca,” I called. “Forget about the pasta. Rob, let’s go.”
Rob glanced up. “Why? I’m having fun,” he said, gesturing towards a basketball game on television.
“Well, fuck that,” I said. “We’re leaving.”
As Rob and I let ourselves out of Rebecca’s apartment, I couldn’t stop thinking about Molly and the sweet, sweet scent of her cunt.
Chapter Six
Molly
After
Alex left, I couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened. My pulse was racing and my whole body was trembling for want of his touch. I never would have expected him to kiss me…not in a million years! And not only had he kissed me…
He’d held me down in my bed and told me he wanted to fuck me.
“Molly!” Rebecca called. “They just left! It’s okay, you can come out now!”
I swallowed nervously. I was afraid to open my mouth, to let the ghost of Alex’s kisses escape.
“Okay!” I called back. “Thanks! I’ll be out in a minute!”
Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath and forced myself to sit up. My head was still spinning and goose bumps broke out over my body as I wrapped my arms around myself and hugged tightly.
Alex had told me he’d wanted to sleep with me.
But why?
Why would he want someone like me? Heck, why would he actually want me? Did he have a secret fat girl fetish? Was it some kind of elaborate stunt, like a joke?
Or did he just get off on seeing me squirm?
I didn’t understand any of it. The whole time I’d known Alex – practically half my life – he’d always had gorgeous girls hanging off at least one of his arms. They weren’t even normally beautiful girls – they were like supermodels. I remember there was one time where I could’ve sworn that he was walking around with pre-meltdown Britney Spears hanging off of his arm.
“Molly, it’s really okay!” Rebecca yelled loudly. “You can come out, I swear, it’s fine!”
“Just give me a minute!” I yelled back. “I’m doing something in here!”
Suddenly, for what felt like the first time in my life, I was annoyed with my best friend. As soon as I realized it, the guilt hit me like a ton of bricks.
It’s not her fault – she has no idea how you feel about Alex , I thought to myself as I rolled my legs off my bed and climbed shakily to my feet. And if she did…god, I can’t even begin to imagine how angry she’d be!
Swallowing nervously, I walked over to my mirror, expecting to see a completely different Molly. I felt like a completely different girl – a sensual girl, a sexy girl that men want to grab and squeeze and kiss and fuck.
But I looked exactly the same. My drab brown hair fell to my back in loose ringlets, and my pudgy face looked even chubbier since I was so pale.
I really should try to lose some weight, or get a tan or something , I thought as I cocked my head to the side and scrutinized myself. If Alex is going to pursue me, won’t he want me to look better?
Then a strange thought came into my head. What if he didn’t want me to lose weight, or anything like that? What if he just liked me because of…well, me?
I shook my head. No – there was no way that was true. Alex wasn’t that kind of guy. In all the years I’d known him, I’d never seen him with a girl bigger than a size two.
So, what was it, then?
I could practically feel Rebecca’s irritation streaming in from the kitchen, so reluctantly I walked out into the hall.
“Hey,” I said.
Rebecca narrowed her eyes. “What was all that about?”
I shrugged. “Sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to bother you. I guess I’m just not feeling very well.”
Rebecca nodded heartily. “Yeah, tell me about it,” she said. “When my brother showed up, I thought I was going to be sick! And did you see his weird best friend, Rob?”
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I didn’t come out of my room, remember?”
“Oh, yeah.” Rebecca sat down and frowned. “Hey, I was thinking – we should go out somewhere. Dress up a little, maybe just have a couple of drinks.”
I laughed. “Are you trying to set me up with someone?”
“No,” Rebecca said. She shook her head. “I just thought it might be fun. We never go out, Molly.”
“There’s a reason for that,” I said. “I hate bars – they’re full of loud, obnoxious guys cheering on some stupid sports team that they care about because they’re dumb savages.”
Rebecca laughed. “What if we find someplace quiet? Like, a wine bar? Wouldn’t that be fun?”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, because pretentious hipsters with berets and glasses of fifteen-dollar house wine are totally our thing.”
“Molly, give it a chance,” Rebecca said. “Look…” She bit her lip, looking away. “I know you’re lonely, okay? I am, too. But we’re never going to meet anyone if we don’t go out. I’m not saying that we go poach husbands, or anything. But it might be nice to make a new friend or two.”
I shrugged. “I’m not lonely,” I lied. I’m just horny and desperate and I want to have sex with your brother more than anything else in this world .
“Well, no harm done then if we don’t meet anyone,” Rebecca chirped. “Come on, up with you.”
I sighed and got to my feet, breathing heavily from the small effort.
“Okay,” I said, holding up my finger. “One drink, and that’s it. You got it?”
“Two?” Rebecca smiled, looking at me over the tops of her glasses. “Come on, Molly. It’s not much. My treat.”
“Okay,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Let me go get ready.”
It was a relief to be back in the privacy of my own bedroom, away from Rebecca’s relentless optimism and chirping. I loved her – I really did – but I was starting to wonder if maybe I wouldn’t be happier living in my own place.
That’s ridiculous , I thought. I’ve lived with Rebecca since I was seventeen! I can’t move out just because I keep fantasizing about Alex!
But even though I knew it was dumb, I couldn’t stop myself from thinking about it. Maybe I’d get a little studio, someplace small, that wouldn’t be too hard to clean. Maybe I could even get a pet. I’d always wanted a cat – childishly, I was afraid of large dogs – and then I’d have my own space.
And then reality sank in. I wouldn’t be Sexy Molly, out on the town, always fending off suitors. I’d be Lonely Molly, curled up with a cat in an apartment that reeked of cat piss and dirt. I’d be Repulsive Molly, sitting in front of the television with a giant bag of potato chips, weeping at old I Love Lucy reruns.
Shuddering, I forced the image out of my mind. Shedding my t-shirt and shorts, I looked down at my belly. It jiggled when I walked – and my stretch marks looked like the craters on the moon. Hot shame flooded my body. There’s no way Alex would still want me if he could see me like this , I realized. No way in hell .
I opened the doors of my closet and peered inside. I didn’t really have any nice clothes. After my failed “date” with Dan, Rebecca had suggested a makeover…but I hadn’t exactly taken her suggestion to heart. I frowned as I pulled out a short purple dress that flared out from the bust. It didn’t exactly hide my belly, but it did make me look slightly more streamlined and less heavy. With a pair of Spanx underneath, I almost looked like a normal girl.
Rebecca was tapping her foot impatiently by the door when I emerged from her bedroom.
“You look nice,” Rebecca said. “Is that new?”
I wrinkled my nose. “You know darn well it’s not,” I said. “I’ve had this for years. You look nice, too, though.”
Rebecca nodded. “Thanks,” she said. She looked down at her outfit – white skinny jeans with an oversized t-shirt. “I feel so self-conscious in these pants. I can’t wear white without suddenly fearing I’m about to get my period!”
I laughed. “I know exactly what you mean,” I said. “Let’s go.”
Rebecca and I took the shuttle to campus, then caught a cab downtown. Rolling Hills wasn’t much – mostly, if people were looking for excitement, they just went into New York. But it was something, and the downtown had recently been revamped with a whole new line of fast-casual restaurants and stores with clothes that wouldn’t fit me in a million years.
Rebecca led the way into a little wine bar – Le Cirque – and I nervously followed behind, glancing around to see who was staring at the whale and her peti
te friend. To my pleasant surprise, we only attracted a few looks as we walked to the bar and sat down.
“I’ll have a glass of…” I trailed off, looking down. “Actually, do you just have beer?”
The bartender smiled and handed me a different list. After choosing a Belgian white, I settled into the barstool and turned to Rebecca.
“This is nice,” I admitted. “Maybe it was a good idea that we got out, you know, just for a little bit.”
