I like this boy named Quinoa. He’s cute, he likes the same bands that I do, and he’s amazing. I usually just stare at him from afar hoping one day he’ll come up and talk to me. I might have an obsession… Sometimes I fantasize about us, and here’s one of the things I think about a lot.(By the way he plays football before school’s starts and ALWAYS wears a yellow Twenty Øne Piløts hat)

I’m sitting, my back against a wall, a book in my hand, and my eye on a boy. I just love the way he looks when he’s happy. The way he looks in his hat. How it fits him perfectly. How it makes him look adorable. I love it more when he takes his hat off. The way he brushes through his hair with his hand makes me shiver with delight. He’s just perfect. I just wish he knew how much I love him.
I notice Quinoa walking toward me. This helps me snap out of my stare and look back at my book. Quinoa sits next to me.
“Hi. I like your jacket,” He says to me. (Everyday I wear the same Twenty Øne Piløts jacket, just like him)
Quinoa’s friends notice that he left their game of football to sit with me, of all people.
“You know,” he looks away and blushes, “I notice you look at me a lot, and I really love your jacket. Would you mind going to the dance with me this Friday?” I pause. I try to register what’s happening but my mind doesn’t know how. QUINOA JUST ASKED ME TO THE DANCE!! My heart races and I don’t say a word until Quinoa breaks the silence, “Oh, I’m sorry I assumed. I understand if you don’t wanna go with me. Maybe you’re just interested in my jacket, but that’s okay.”
“I’ll go with you,” I mumble.
Quinoa looks shocked, “Really?” I nod slowly, “Wow! Okay thanks. I guess I’ll see you this Friday!” Quinoa runs off back to his friends to play football.

Friday night. The Dance.

“MOM!! I CAN’T FIND MY DRESS!” I yell at my mom.
“Honey, I thought you weren’t going to the dance,” my mom calmly explains.
“Well, I am! So where is the dress?!” I yell angrily.
“It should be in the closet under the stairs,” she replies.
I go in the closet and find a strapless, really beautiful red dress that cuts up the leg, and red flowers on the front. The chest piece glitters and sparkles. I put the dress on and do my hair and makeup. Right as I finish, I hear the doorbell ring. Quinoa.
I answer the door, and get in the car with Quinoa. He’s wearing a flawless black and white suit with a flower in the breast pocket.
“You look nice,” he flirts.
“Right back at you, handsome,” I reply. He blushes.
We finally get to the dance everyone is dancing and having fun, and Quinoa and I are too.

Okay, no more dancing and fun. Let’s get to the good stuff. 😉

“Hey Quinoa?” I yell over the loud music.
“Yeah?” He reply’s.
“Do you just wanna go to my house? I bet we’ll have an even better time there,” I ask, flirtatiously with a wink.
“Yeah,” he answers and he leads me to the car.
When we finally get to my house, I lead him to my bedroom.
“Whatcha wanna do?” I ask, bored.
“I have just the idea,” He says.
Quinoa leans into me, and kisses me. We passionately make out for a bit. He makes his way down to my neck, and it doesn’t take him very long to find my sweet spot. I let out a soft moan into his ear. He comes back to my lips and makes out more. He brings his arms to my back and fiddles with my zipper. The finally manages to unzip my dress. He then effortlessly takes off my bra and throws it to the side.
“Oh my god, you’re t*** are huge!” He exlaims. I blush brightly and continue to make out with him.
He takes off his shirt, and throws it. He starts to fiddle with my breasts, and I let out a moan into his mouth. He let’s go of the kiss, and takes mine and his pants off. I stand up off of the bed. I get down on my knees in front of him. With my teeth, I pull down his boxers, and his enlarged p**** pops out. I lick the sides, and tease him by tickling the tip with my tongue. In his eyes I can see desire. He doesn’t like my teasing. He just wants me to s*** him. I continue to tease him. I love the look of begging he gives me.
“Just take me, please,” he begs. I smile.
I unexpectedly put my entire mouth over his p**** and I s***. He lets out a loud moan.

I’m tired of writing. Let me just say, after that we f***.

The End!