For a school assignment I had to write a piece of historical fiction (ugh) which I was initially not looking forward to because we had to pick slips of paper from a hat with specific times and locations on them, we couldn’t choose our own. I just wanted mine to be relatively modern so I wouldn’t have to attempt to write something that sounds authentically dated. I lucked out though, I got September 11th, and that was 2001. When it was my turn to tell the class what I’d picked, I followed it up with “I’m happy, this is so recent” and I heard some of them laugh a little. The girl with the best ass laughed, I glanced over to make sure. I may be wrong, but I think she has the kind of body you get from doing nothing and being lucky. She wears pants that really show off her pussy and I wonder how tight she is.
I was relieved to get a historical event that I actually remember—I was 8 when it happened (I turned 9 less than a month later). There was a vague announcement over the loudspeaker at school and we all got sent home. When I walked in the house, my dad was standing up in front of the TV watching the news and the guy who was there to paint our house was on the telephone. He has family in New York, my dad said. My bedroom was being painted that week and afterwards I got new carpet, too. Previously it had pink walls and pink carpeting although I had asked for purple or red and I always hated it because it was too hot of a shade. Like a somewhat muted fuscia. The new walls were white and the carpet was green with a leaf pattern.
That evening, a girl from the neighborhood came over unannounced on her Razor Scooter. It was late in the day but the sun hadn’t gone down yet. Still, it was weird that her parents let her out by herself at that age, kids in my neighborhood didn’t do that. I had never much liked her and dreaded when her mom called mine and forced me into playdates. That girl has such huge tits now, but she’s still annoying. She even had pretty big tits in 7th grade.