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Everybody Wants You

You stare at your sorry reflection in the bathroom mirror. Your eyes are red and your cheeks are streaked with a mix of tears and mascara.

“Bitch! I’m just as pretty as her, aren’t I?” you ask yourself, sobbing. For a while you just watch yourself cry in the mirror, reveling in your misery. Then you sniff and wipe away the dirty tears with the back of your hand.

You clean your face with a warm, wet washcloth and scrutinize yourself again.

“She is prettier!” you howl, and start sobbing anew. You manage to brush your teeth while continuing to cry. Girls are good at multitasking.

You spit the toothpaste into the sink. “That fucking Jennifer. What’s she got that I don’t? What’s wrong with meeeee?”

Deep down, you know why your boyfriend Dan dumped you for Jennifer. It was an upgrade, in pretty much every department. There’s nothing especially wrong with you, she’s just better. And that last blowjob you gave him was pretty awful, to be honest.

“Everyone loves her,” you moan bitterly. “And all the guys want to fuck her! Who’s gonna think about me when she’s around?”

You rinse your toothbrush and stare at the swirling whirlpool of water escaping down the plug hole.

“Please God, let them want to fuck me, not her! I wish that I was the one that everybody wanted to fuck!”

There’s a sudden buzz in the air, like from an electrical transformer, and a brief gust of wind tousles your hair. It’s odd, because there’s nowhere a draft could come from. You feel a prickling on the back of your neck, like there’s someone behind you. You look back nervously, but there’s nobody there.

You suddenly feel very silly. Saying those words out loud made you sound incredibly slutty and jealous. Luckily nobody heard you! You give your reflection a rueful smile. “He doesn’t deserve you, Emma,” you tell yourself.

Your heart still feels broken, but not so bad that you cry yourself to sleep. Tomorrow will be a better day…

The next morning you wake feeling refreshed and you practically jump out of bed. It feels like springtime in the air. You are surprised to find yourself singing in the shower.

The sun is out, so you decide to wear a miniskirt and a cute halter top. Feeling daring, you decide to see what it looks like to go bra-less under the top. You check yourself out in the bedroom mirror and bounce up and down experimentally. There’s definitely some sway and jiggle, but it isn’t too obvious.

Then you try bending over, looking back over your shoulder. The skirt rides up, but not quite far enough to expose your panties unless you bend right down. It always pays to check!

Your little dog Scruffy pads up to you and you bend down to scratch him behind his ears. “Hey Scruffy, how’s it going?”

Scruffy makes a strange gurgling sound and promptly attaches himself to your leg. He’s never done that before!

“Ewww Scruffy, what are you doing?” you cry as he humps away. You can feel his stiff little thingy rubbing against your calf. There’s a weird look in his eyes. It’s like he can’t control himself!

“Scruffy, no!” you shout, trying to kick him off, but the little dog hangs on for dear life. Then he starts panting and quivering, and you are dismayed to feel something warm and wet trickling down to your ankle. Scruffy lets go, then starts licking his doggy sperm off your leg.

“Ugh, Scruffy! That’s disgusting! Bad dog!”

You leave the naughty dog in the bedroom, where he’s snuffling away at your discarded panties from the day before. After a quick visit to the bathroom to clean up, you eventually find your way into the kitchen for breakfast. Your mother has her back to you, frying some eggs on the stove. Your father has his face buried in the newspaper.

Yes it’s true — you are still living with your parents. You tell yourself it’s only temporary!

“Hey, wait ‘til I tell you what the dog just did!” you say.

Your mother turns around to greet you. She looks you up and down admiringly. “Morning Emma dear. My, my! You’re looking very sexy today.” She then addresses your father. “Doesn’t your daughter look fuckable today, dear?”

“Mom!” you gasp, mortified. She’s never said anything like that before.

Your dad looks up and leers at you. “Well, well… little Emma is all grown up. How about you come over here and sit on your daddy’s lap for a cuddle?”


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