Jasmine leaves the professor's office feeling a little weird. She thinks,
Maybe I ate something bad earlier... I need coffee. A little caffeine always straightens me out. MMM... a vanilla cappuccino, and then I'll add a little half and half and extra sugar. Or not. My belly could be a little smaller, especially if I want people to look at me.
She suddenly realizes that she has not really wanted to be looked at recently, that she's been ashamed of her appearance. I mean of course she wants positive attention, just like everyone. She wants to be pretty and for people to give her things and fall a little in love when she walks by. But lately she hasn't been feeling too good about herself. That's why she keeps shoving sugar into her face, to complete a self-fulfilling prophecy that she is fat and unlovable.
But then she looks down and sees her curves, and instead of feeling lumpy, she feels luscious. Her belly isn't big, and as she watches her hips sway from side to side, she feels entranced like she's watching a big pendulum. Then she turns around and sees a boy walking behind her. She can't tell if he is looking at her but she wants him to. She starts placing one foot in front of the other and making sure her butt bounces as she walks.
She goes to the gym every day, and swims a lot, so she knows she has a fine posterior. She feels like she can hear the heavy click of a pair of white PVC boots carrying her forward, but when she looks down she sees her thick snow pants, heavy jacket, and worn out snow boots and thinks no one will look at her in that, and she wants to
show off her body
...
Ooh that was weird haha.
And as she opens the door to her favorite coffee shop, she laughs a little. She feels
sexy.
In the shop it is warm enough for her to take off her coat. I mean it isn't super warm, but nobody will look at her with that frumpy thing on. She goes up to the barista at the bar to order a coffee. Vanilla cappuccino... no, she doesn't need that, she doesn't deserve a reward, she hasn't done anything yet. She can have a reward when she works out.
"Hi, how can I help you," the young man with maroon velvet glasses asks her.
"I'll take an espresso please." He looks a little nervous, maybe he thinks she's cute. She should test it out. "Nice glasses by the way, I've never seen anything with velvet rims before, where'd you get them?" She asks and leans forward a bit to show off more of her cleavage, before she remembers she is wearing that unflattering black long sleeve. Her outfits will have to change.
"Oh yeah, I made them myself actually. If you look closely, you can see stitching," he says and takes them off to show her. They start talking and Jasmine tries them on and then goes cross-eyed and sticks out her tongue as a joke. He becomes silent and she immediately feels embarrassed and apologizes for her stupid behavior, but then he breaks into laughter.
Some crotchety old man behind them asks if they can hurry up and she says goodbye and gives the glasses back. Jasmine then sees her friend Annie in line. She is about to wave to her but then she hesitates.
She loves Annie, but it always takes energy to be with her and she doesn't know if she has that right now. Jasmine knows Annie would do anything for her- she goes to Annie whenever she has to study and doesn't want to be alone, needs a shoulder to cry on, or is sick and needs food. Annie is an expert networker, and especially likes to recruit shy nerdy guys into her circle, first becoming their friend, then expressing in little ways she thinks they are cute. Often, she sleeps with them, then references their intimacy in public settings to embarrass them and hits on them whenever they get into other relationships.
I don't think the men can tell they're being manipulated a lot of the time, too entranced by Annie's giant tits and ass, her tiny button nose, big cartoonish eyes, puffy lips, and constantly seductive attitude. She then uses these men for her career advancement, help on her projects, or to make other men jealous. However, she is never frugal about putting these men at Jasmine's disposal, as long as Jasmine knows Annie is in charge of them.
If a man gives Jasmine any attention, Annie will be on them (literally and figuratively) before Jasmine can get a chance. Annie brags a lot about how much sex she has and prides herself on both the quantity and apparently the amazing quality of her love making. She says she is into sado-masochist shit, whether she is slapping some big army son of a bitch in the face or asking to be choked out and used like a fucking finger puppet. But, in the end, after the men have gotten their rocks off, she has to be in control.
Jasmine hates how much time and thought she devotes to Annie. Ugh, love and hate, two sides of the same coin.
"Hey Jasmine," Annie whispers in her ear. It sounds moist.
"Ah!" Jasmine screams, startled by Annie's entrance.
"You're so cute when you get scared! I gotta do that again and record it and make it my ringtone, or maybe I'll record a bunch of them, make a deep fake of you masturbating and then use them like the cute little anime sounds you make when you jack off!"
"You're crazy, how do you come up with shit like that?" Jasmine asks laughing, but without finding it funny. She finds it disturbing, partially because it tickles her pussy.
"I saw you talking to that boy over there, want me to get his number for you?"
For me. Sure, for me. If you get his number you're probably gonna text him for me, and taste his dick for me too- to make sure it's not poisoned.
"Annie, naw it's alright. I'm staying single for the moment. Ya know, so I can focus on myself."
"C'mon, you don't have to marry every guy you text. Here, you'll thank me later," Annie says and sashays over to the guy at the counter. She is wearing a black leather jacket with roses on the shoulders and a white tank top underneath that compliments her medium-dark brown skin. She is also wearing white khakis that hug her ass, big chunky black sneakers, and her nails are painted white and black.
God she is so cool, I need to fucking tear burn my closet and buy all new shit.
Jasmine sees Annie standing in front of the barista, giggling her ass off- that bitch even reaches over and touches his shoulder. Annie walks back waving his number on a napkin. After the nine digits it says "For Annie Jasmine".
That fucking whore, I'm supposed to be the slut
, Jasmine thinks in anger.
Annie's always using her body to get what she wants, and hear I have these firm tits, tight ass, a bomb style, and abs that I refuse to use!
When Annie walks up, she gives Jasmine the man's number and suggests they play a game of tennis later, the three of them. Jasmine says it sounds like a great idea.
I'm such a pushover
. Jasmine grabs her espresso and chugs it. It burns and it is sour, but life is meant to be hard.
Jasmine goes to her dorm, changes, and heads straight to the gym. First, she heads for the yoga mats and does sit-ups until she feels bruised on the inside. Then, she goes over to the squat machine and starts working on her quads, adding more weight until she is shaking. She sees a boy standing behind her, checking her out. She lowers the weight so she can do her squats more controlled, leans forward a little bit, and bends low so her butt makes a heart shape as it approaches the floor.
She watches the boy in the mirror behind her, his hard dick twitching every time she lowers down.
I bet he wishes he was laying naked under me right now, his hard dick pointed up, my legs spread wide, lowering onto his cock over and over. Fuck, now I'm a little wet.
Jasmine stands up and looks down at herself. She was dripping with sweat, but her washboard abs looked tight and the sweat stain on her shirt formed a V and showed off her tits.
God I love showing off
.
Just then Annie walks up to her. She had changed too, except instead of into black sweatpants, green sneakers, and a gray tank top like Jasmine, she had put on white pleated tennis shorts that rode well up into her thigh and a white sports bra trimmed with pink around a deep U that exposed enough of her pillowy breasts so you could fit your whole face in her bosom if she let you.
"Ready?" Annie asks, spinning her racquet around.
"Fuck yeah." Jasmine says, with the uncontrollable urge to destroy her friend.
They go to the courts where the cute barista is waiting. Annie suggests she play on the side of the barista so Jasmine can face him.
Ok Annie.
They play for a while, but it becomes immediately obvious this is Annie's game of choice. Jasmine is hopping all over, huffing and puffing, and Annie is sending the balls over the net at top-speed like it's nothing. The barista sucks, but with Annie on his side he is winning.
