momma's pride and joy

Guys DO NOT Understand Girls

When Tim returned to the car a few moments later, I immediately inquired, "Who were they?"

"The dark blonde-headed one stocks shelves with me at the grocery store and the other two have classes with me."

"I saw all of you look over at the car. What were you saying about me?"

Tim started the car and began to pull off. I sat back up in my seat and raised my legs, propping my feet up against to edge of the dash.

My skirt slid toward my waist and exposed the white gusset of my hose. I immediately pushed the material of my skirt between my legs to protect my modesty. My hose covered legs may be exposed all the way to my hips, but exposing my femininely clothed crotch area to my brother was too much.

I glanced at him and his eyes quickly returned to looking at the road. I'm pretty sure I heard him barely audibly mutter damn.

I cracked the seal on my drink and took a sip. I relaxed and gazed at my hose covered legs in thr light from the dash and center console, admiring how I thought they looked as sexy in hose as Raquel's, a girl in my class that frequently wore hose. I always got turned on staring at her legs and found myself severely disappointed when she came to school barelegged or worse, in jeans. 

That girl was, without any effort, naturally a seven, but when she wore hose under a dress or skirt, she was a solid 8.5 or 9. She was finer than a frog hair split three ways.

I admired my feet and began to imagine what they would look like with painted nails peeking through the threads of the hose. That was something else I enjoyed seeing on Raquel.

This thought only lasted a split second before Tim responded with an answer to my question.

"The blonde asked me about you. He saw you get into my car. He wanted to know who you were and if you were my girlfriend."

Before Tim could explain, I anxiously jumped in, "Well? What did you tell him?"

"The truth, Kerin. I told all three of  them that you weren't my girlfriend, you were family, more like a sister to me. Then I made some details up. I explained how you were actually a cousin, my momma's niece and that you had just recently moved here to help Ma take care of us for a while. He then made a comment that let me know he found you attractive and asked if he could come over to the house sometime and maybe meet you."

"What did you tell him?" I began to panic. "You said no, right? Please say you told him I'm not interested in dating or hanging out with boys."

"Oh, so you're a lesbian? The way you got into the role of a 'girl on a date with a boy' and enjoyed yourself tonight, I highly doubt you'd be a lesbian."

"What's that suppose to mean?"

"Let's just say I could see you going on a date with another guy, someone not your brother, and enjoying yourself just as much as you did tonight, or more. Admit it, you had a blast aside from the Madam Keezia incident. Besides, you never get a chance to have time away from the house, aside from tonight. You need a break once in awhile."

He paused and took a sip of his cold brew.

I didn't respond. I was pondering his last statement.

Tim began to talk again, "Tonight it didn't feel like I was at the carnival with my brother, I felt like I was really on a date with a girl. Several times I actually almost forgot it was you. When we were on the double ferris-wheel and you were so scared you hugged up tight aginst me for support, I wanted to kiss you. No, literally, I had to remind myself of who you were . . . Tell me you didn't love being out tonight as a girl, on a date with a boy. I know you did I could see it."

I tensed up and let my feet slip off the edge of the dash. What was he saying? Was he right?

"Besides," Tim continued after taking another sip, "if you're going to be a girl, you'll soon be dating guys and well, eventually pleasing them too, it's not only what a girl does, but I think it's what you want as well. I can see it, but if you're not ready for that yet, just look at it as a free meal and a chance to do something fun. I was trying to be a good wingman."

"What? You could see me pleasuring guys? Seriously? That's what you think?" Then it hit me, what else he was saying without coming out and just saying it. "Wait! You didn't tell him he could come over sometime did you? What the shit, Tim?"

Tim began to stammer, "I'm, I er... I was convinced that you wouldn't mind and I still think you'd enjoy it, and you need the experience so you can see what you are really getting into with all this, so yeah, I invited him to dinner Sunday night. The way you enjoyed tonight I figured you really wouldn't mind."

I crossed my arms underneath my "breasts" and turned away from Tim.

I was angry, but was it because he really didn't get it or was it because he was now causing me to face ideas and decisions I hadn't considered or was just afraid to face?

Either way, I couldn't believe he had the nerve to invite a boy to the house and just decided I'd be okay with it, all without any consideration for me, my thoughts, my desires, or even any input.

At this point I was unsure of what the future held, and I was scared, but most of all I was pissed off at Tim for treating me like he could make this decision for me, without talking to me about it.

"You know how they say guys don't understand girls," I asked Tim. "I'm not even a real girl, but now . . . I think know now what that feels like."