For a long time now I've been wanting to write something based on my life. Well, I finally got around to it. As of now it's 1200 words and PG rated, no sex yet. Tell me what you think, go easy on me, and don't worry, it's gonna get hot pretty soon.
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Amy and James
A Romantic Novel by Old J
Prologue
They met seven years ago, when he was 9 and she was 8.
He was a young boy, in body and in mind. He often questioned things like life, his religion, and who he was, but he had strong control over his thoughts, and was never worried with such things, only aware of them. He had dirty blond hair that faded to gold in the summer, lips the curved up on the ends from his perpetual smile and full, blue eyes always caring and attentive. He was thin but proportionate, able to run and jump like an average boy. His name was James
She was a young girl, small even for her age but wise and imaginative. She could comprehend complex things but didn’t willingly think them up, she was more concerned with what was around her, and her future. Her body was fragile and new, and she inferred she would mature later than most girls. Her hair was long, dark-brown with a hint of red and soft like well-cleaned silk, her mouth was small but able to announce her feelings and her eyes were green polished marbles often questioning or confused. She was named Amy.
Their parents were friends from church, and they met when James was sent over to Amy’s while his mother was at work. They were both friendly, sharing similar interests and personalities, and in no time they were best friends. Every visit they would swim together, play on the swing set, and roleplay as magicians or monsters. They grew older but their activities stayed the same, they denied the fact that other children had changing interests and continued to play with stuffed animals or mini-golf on the computer.
Things started to change as grade-school passed and middle-school ended. The two had remained friends, their bond growing stronger as the world around them molded their growing selves. James’ interests had changed from role-playing to video-games and computers, and Amy’s to Medicine and her future career. The had a common interest though, the opposite sex. As their bodies continued to grow, hormones were released telling their bodies what to change and how to think, and soon sex was a new thing to be on the mind, a nagging bulletin tacked up in the far reaches of their minds read “Now is the time when reproduction should begin.”
Chapter 1
At least one-fourth of the school knew his name, James. He was tall and lanky, but he ran now and was building a foundation for the man he would become. He gained knowledge everyday and applied it to the way he acted around others, a different person to everyone he knew, never truly being himself. That’s probably why so many people liked him. He was funny, sarcastic and always the first person to ask how you were. His eyes were ponds whose floors could not be reached, dark deep bodies that seemed to focus on only you. This wasn’t the truth, however, James hardly ever cared about what it is he was looking at. He looked at things because he knew it was required to fit in. He made eye contact, looked intrigued when a teacher spoke, and overall always seemed to have focus. If he could have things his way he’d have his eyelids shut day and night. Nowadays he had figured that cheaters did prosper, and although he learned everything that was taught to him, he never did work and home and was constantly selling answers to classmates. Even in IB classes he slacked off, enjoying the challenge while not trying to hard, a gifted student in every subject. He had joined the track team to stay in shape, and while he likely the one of the worse runners on the team, he gained skill and personal gratification. He was often out late with friends at a movie or relaxing at someone’s house. At home he played video games and browsed the internet, while dabbling in video production and animation. On the off-chance he wasn’t busy with any of that, he felt sorry for himself as he didn’t have any truly close friends, a thought the outside world would never hear about.
And when he was doing that, he was fantasizing about sex.
Every day he touched himself. Without it he could hardly get through the day, seeing ghosts of himself violently rape classmates or slip a hand in a girls bra. He had trouble holding himself back from doing what he daydreamed. When he was by himself he could control it, make a scenario and act it out without anyone knowing. What he longed for now was something real.
Amy. The name of his best friend since he moved to town seven years ago. Hers was the first name he hadn’t had trouble remembering. They were best friends, comics, often coming up with funny short movies that they filmed and watched. She had changed too. Physically she was filling in, her womanly features becoming more prominent. Her thoughts didn’t change as radically as James’, now she cared more about having a boyfriend than anything else. She didn’t feel complete when she was single. She had a prior relationship or two. She never liked anyone she went out with, though, always rushing into things. James was different . She had admired him since they met. His humor, kindness, wit and multi-faceted persona came together to make the perfect boy. He didn’t look too bad either, his hair had grown into style from its old semi-bowl cut, and his bones were widening canvases for muscle to form on. His only problem was perhaps his over analyzation, which she was willing to overlook. As time went by, she thought she may be falling in love with him as they shared more secrets and grew closer and closer.
James had gone out with a girl or two, and while he was very smooth and on a “good friends” basis with most of the girls he knew, relationships never worked for him. He couldn’t be restricted, not allowed to flirt and responsible for keeping someone happy. Want he wanted was a best friend and a sex slave. Fortunately there was a girl out there that met the description, willing to do anything for him, as long as he was happy.
Chapter 2
An electronic buzzing noise rings softly. Again it buzzes, louder and shaking James’ arm. His cellphone, signaling the beginning of a new day of monotony. He opens his eyes and closes his mouth, tasting the stench of dust and spit from his snoring. He showers and gets dressed: blue jeans, a gray tee and running shoes. Today he takes a nap and ends up being late for school.
“Shit.” He mutters as he glances at his bedside clock.
He sprints out the door and jumps into his car though the passenger side window, a trick he worked on over winter break. His backpack is in the trunk and his Creative Zen is plugged into the stereo.
“Let’s roll.”
He bolts down the main loop in his development and pulls up to Amy’s house.
“What took ya?” She questions as she slams the door behind her, throwing trash in the back seat and setting her purse on the floor.
“I, uh, had some homework.” James lies.
The two pull out of the neighborhood and race down the highway. James goes 20 miles over to make up for lost time. It took him a long time to get his license, but he designated himself his friend’s chauffeur and learned how to drive like a street racer.
Next stop is Mitch’s house. Mitch is the closest male friend James has ever had, even though he has only know him for less than 4 years. Mitch has Xantho-Melanistic Albinism, and therefore has pale blue eyes, bright-red hair, and bleached-white skin. He wears black clothing to protect his skin and listens to industrial rock. He was the most gothic kid in school until he joined the wrestling team.
Mitch is at the end of the driveway, holding his gym bag and 2 foam cups of coffee, both with 2 sugars and 2 creams, his way of paying for rides.
“Hey there kids. Lovely day for exams isn’t it?” He jokes while handing out the fresh-brewed beverage.
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Amy and James
A Romantic Novel by Old J
Prologue
They met seven years ago, when he was 9 and she was 8.
He was a young boy, in body and in mind. He often questioned things like life, his religion, and who he was, but he had strong control over his thoughts, and was never worried with such things, only aware of them. He had dirty blond hair that faded to gold in the summer, lips the curved up on the ends from his perpetual smile and full, blue eyes always caring and attentive. He was thin but proportionate, able to run and jump like an average boy. His name was James
She was a young girl, small even for her age but wise and imaginative. She could comprehend complex things but didn’t willingly think them up, she was more concerned with what was around her, and her future. Her body was fragile and new, and she inferred she would mature later than most girls. Her hair was long, dark-brown with a hint of red and soft like well-cleaned silk, her mouth was small but able to announce her feelings and her eyes were green polished marbles often questioning or confused. She was named Amy.
Their parents were friends from church, and they met when James was sent over to Amy’s while his mother was at work. They were both friendly, sharing similar interests and personalities, and in no time they were best friends. Every visit they would swim together, play on the swing set, and roleplay as magicians or monsters. They grew older but their activities stayed the same, they denied the fact that other children had changing interests and continued to play with stuffed animals or mini-golf on the computer.
Things started to change as grade-school passed and middle-school ended. The two had remained friends, their bond growing stronger as the world around them molded their growing selves. James’ interests had changed from role-playing to video-games and computers, and Amy’s to Medicine and her future career. The had a common interest though, the opposite sex. As their bodies continued to grow, hormones were released telling their bodies what to change and how to think, and soon sex was a new thing to be on the mind, a nagging bulletin tacked up in the far reaches of their minds read “Now is the time when reproduction should begin.”
Chapter 1
At least one-fourth of the school knew his name, James. He was tall and lanky, but he ran now and was building a foundation for the man he would become. He gained knowledge everyday and applied it to the way he acted around others, a different person to everyone he knew, never truly being himself. That’s probably why so many people liked him. He was funny, sarcastic and always the first person to ask how you were. His eyes were ponds whose floors could not be reached, dark deep bodies that seemed to focus on only you. This wasn’t the truth, however, James hardly ever cared about what it is he was looking at. He looked at things because he knew it was required to fit in. He made eye contact, looked intrigued when a teacher spoke, and overall always seemed to have focus. If he could have things his way he’d have his eyelids shut day and night. Nowadays he had figured that cheaters did prosper, and although he learned everything that was taught to him, he never did work and home and was constantly selling answers to classmates. Even in IB classes he slacked off, enjoying the challenge while not trying to hard, a gifted student in every subject. He had joined the track team to stay in shape, and while he likely the one of the worse runners on the team, he gained skill and personal gratification. He was often out late with friends at a movie or relaxing at someone’s house. At home he played video games and browsed the internet, while dabbling in video production and animation. On the off-chance he wasn’t busy with any of that, he felt sorry for himself as he didn’t have any truly close friends, a thought the outside world would never hear about.
And when he was doing that, he was fantasizing about sex.
Every day he touched himself. Without it he could hardly get through the day, seeing ghosts of himself violently rape classmates or slip a hand in a girls bra. He had trouble holding himself back from doing what he daydreamed. When he was by himself he could control it, make a scenario and act it out without anyone knowing. What he longed for now was something real.
Amy. The name of his best friend since he moved to town seven years ago. Hers was the first name he hadn’t had trouble remembering. They were best friends, comics, often coming up with funny short movies that they filmed and watched. She had changed too. Physically she was filling in, her womanly features becoming more prominent. Her thoughts didn’t change as radically as James’, now she cared more about having a boyfriend than anything else. She didn’t feel complete when she was single. She had a prior relationship or two. She never liked anyone she went out with, though, always rushing into things. James was different . She had admired him since they met. His humor, kindness, wit and multi-faceted persona came together to make the perfect boy. He didn’t look too bad either, his hair had grown into style from its old semi-bowl cut, and his bones were widening canvases for muscle to form on. His only problem was perhaps his over analyzation, which she was willing to overlook. As time went by, she thought she may be falling in love with him as they shared more secrets and grew closer and closer.
James had gone out with a girl or two, and while he was very smooth and on a “good friends” basis with most of the girls he knew, relationships never worked for him. He couldn’t be restricted, not allowed to flirt and responsible for keeping someone happy. Want he wanted was a best friend and a sex slave. Fortunately there was a girl out there that met the description, willing to do anything for him, as long as he was happy.
Chapter 2
An electronic buzzing noise rings softly. Again it buzzes, louder and shaking James’ arm. His cellphone, signaling the beginning of a new day of monotony. He opens his eyes and closes his mouth, tasting the stench of dust and spit from his snoring. He showers and gets dressed: blue jeans, a gray tee and running shoes. Today he takes a nap and ends up being late for school.
“Shit.” He mutters as he glances at his bedside clock.
He sprints out the door and jumps into his car though the passenger side window, a trick he worked on over winter break. His backpack is in the trunk and his Creative Zen is plugged into the stereo.
“Let’s roll.”
He bolts down the main loop in his development and pulls up to Amy’s house.
“What took ya?” She questions as she slams the door behind her, throwing trash in the back seat and setting her purse on the floor.
“I, uh, had some homework.” James lies.
The two pull out of the neighborhood and race down the highway. James goes 20 miles over to make up for lost time. It took him a long time to get his license, but he designated himself his friend’s chauffeur and learned how to drive like a street racer.
Next stop is Mitch’s house. Mitch is the closest male friend James has ever had, even though he has only know him for less than 4 years. Mitch has Xantho-Melanistic Albinism, and therefore has pale blue eyes, bright-red hair, and bleached-white skin. He wears black clothing to protect his skin and listens to industrial rock. He was the most gothic kid in school until he joined the wrestling team.
Mitch is at the end of the driveway, holding his gym bag and 2 foam cups of coffee, both with 2 sugars and 2 creams, his way of paying for rides.
“Hey there kids. Lovely day for exams isn’t it?” He jokes while handing out the fresh-brewed beverage.
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