Emma used to be a wholesome girl. She was no angel—she'd fooled around with a few guys, and although she was going steady with Darren, she was no prude. She sucked him off once or twice a week, although she made him wait two months for that, and still wouldn't let him fuck her.
She was saving sex for marriage, real sex, like a lot of girls her age—sweet seventeen, just about to turn eighteen... tomorrow. Marriage, or maybe the prom. Well, maybe marriage now—since she just found out Darren had been fucking around.
Happy birthday.
Emma cried for a long time and screamed into her pillow afterwards. What an asshole. Worse, he had been fucking around for a while—at least the last month—and with that stupid slut Sara.
She didn't drink much, but had a flask she'd bought for the odd party, and snuck it full of whiskey from her dad's stash. Her parents and brother were watching a movie, but she begged off and locked herself in her room, crying in jags and guzzling long shots. Emma hated being drunk, and usually stopped after a few sips, but tonight felt different.
Darren had been the one for her, she thought, they had even talked about going away to college together. But now, with six months left of high school, she didn't know how she'd deal with seeing him in class all the time.
If only Sara, that stupid whore, had fucked off after she graduated. But no, she hung around town in her shitty apartment and twirled her gum in her fuck-me boots at the bowling range. The stupid slut wasn't getting enough cock from those middle-aged bowlers, she had to pick up on the high school guys too. What a bitch.
As Emma got drunker, and grew more upset about Darren, she also got angrier at Sara. Finally, sloshed, she decided she should just go confront the bitch. Let her know how much pain she'd caused. Maybe she would fuck off and Emma could patch things up with Darren.
She slipped out the window and made her way down the street. Everyone knew Sara lived in an apartment above the bowling alley she worked at, and Emma's house was not far away. She stumbled up the stairs to Sara's apartment—the lights were off but she started hammering the door anyway.
After a few minutes an annoyed Sara opened the door in her nightgown. "Who the hell are you?"
Emma had thought she would stand up to Sara and shout her down, but she surprised herself by starting to cry. Sara was beautiful, with long black hair with dyed red streaks, a slim figure, and full breasts. She looked kind of like a gothy Betty Boop. Emma could see Sara's tits straining against the sheer nightgown, the nipples hardening in the night air. How could Emma compete against that? Sara noticed her sniffling and waved Emma inside.
Once on the couch, Emma tried to apologize. "I'm sorry, I... my boyfriend is Darren."
"Who?" asked Sara, settling into a nearby chair.
This shocked Emma. "Darren, he—you—I found out he was, he was..."
"What? Fucking me?"
Emma choked up. Sara didn't even care. How could Darren have thrown her over for this bitch?
While Emma sobbed a little, Sara disappeared into the other room. She came back holding a bottle of wine, already open. "This is from last night, it's still good." She poured Emma a glass. "Don't take it personally, girl, but I fuck lots of guys. Guys like Darren, who just want to have fun. I don't go around stealing them from their girlfriends either. They just come by and try to pick me up at the alley, and if I like them I bring them up here."
Emma gulped down the wine. "I just thought he liked me."
"I'm sure he liked you fine. You've got a killer body with a tight ass. I bet you look pretty when you aren't drunk and crying too. You seem like you might have some perky tits, but the ass especially. Did he ever try to fuck you in the ass?"
"We didn't do that. We just... I just sucked on him a bit."
"Shit, well, then maybe you should blame him for wanting some pussy, but you shouldn't be surprised."
Emma wanted to hate Sara but she had been thinking the same thing. That was why she'd blown Darren in the first place, to try to distract him from wanting more from her, at least then. "I'm not a prude you know. I was going to let him fuck me soon, after the prom."
"Let him fuck you? Didn't you want to fuck him?"
