I could not help but pass a fleeting look at the boy, just one more time. His thin, beautiful lips were gently pressed against the blonde's puffy, pink, and glittery ones. His eyes were halfway closed, and he seemed to be looking down the blonde's shirt out of boredom. His dark lashes flickered, and in an instant, he was looking right at me with those piercing, dark eyes.
I froze on the spot. I was standing transfixed in the back of a pizzeria, staring into the eyes of a total stranger who was madly kissing another girl who could not satisfy him. I could not see his face clearly, as the girl was in the way, and he had long, dark hair that obscured sight of his thin face. We simply stared at each other for a few seconds, and his eyes clearly screamed at me that he wanted to get out of his situation. Slowly, his eyes traveled down my face, from my cheekbones to the tip of my nose and rested on my lips. He stared hungrily at them for a while, and then closed his eyes and groaned slightly while the blonde giggled because she thought she had produced the moan, and stuck her tongue further into his mouth. I could tell that the moan was produced by me, as the boy had clearly been imagining what it would feel like to kiss my lips instead of those sparkly flavored ones. I smiled. It was so dark in the back that he couldn't have possible seen who I was, and besides, it was dark outside.
I could have screamed at her. She was doing it all wrong! The boy opened his eyes again and I detected a bit of disgust in them as he proceeded to massage the blonde's tongue with his own, but she was jabbing it around in his teeth for some reason. The boy glanced at me again, and I pretended to have dropped something on the floor. I bent over, pretending to look for something under the next table, and I noticed the boy turn his head slightly to see me. His gaze traveled down to the tight wifebeater I was wearing, In which I had stuck safety pins decoratively, along with many colored patches and sashes. It was ok to wear, since it was still August and warm out. My silver Nirvana pendant was hanging from a black leather string around my neck, and when I leaned over, I stuck my butt out in the air a bit sluttishly. I knew I had hooked the boy by the way he half- turned in his seat (while still having the blonde poke her tongue in and out of his mouth) to get a better look at me poke around under the table. I was wearing tight dark blue flair capris that showed off all of my curves, and I could feel his stare on my butt and rockin' new hips, and anyone could clearly see my lacy black bra through my shirt. His eyes finally seemed to be enjoying themselves, and he looked positively aroused!
I sat up on the floor in my navy capris and pretended to look around mournfully for something. I felt the boy's gaze land on my lips again. He looked positively hungry for some proper loving. His eyes traveled downward and rested on my boobs, which were rather large for my age. I could sense him contemplating if it was really my bra he was seeing through my shirt, or some trickery in the fabric. His eyes lingered there, and his hands started moving in circular motions on the tabletop. I knew he was imagining that he was fondling them. He looked down his girlfriend's shirt again, as if comparing the size, and settled his eyes on mine again. His eyes quickly darted back up to my eyes and he had a slight bad-boy look in his, as if he was looking for an answer to whether it was okay to look at my boobs like that, but also giving the impression that he would do it anyway, even if it wasn't, because that was what he always did. I saw a lump rise in his baggy jeans underneath the table.
In response, I licked my lips, trying to act like a vixen. I knew I was seducing him, and it was working. I dived back under the nearest table as I saw the blonde get up and make her way to the bathroom. Her shirt was pink and had "Limited Too" written on it and it was surrounded in sparkles. Her makeup was hideous. When I was sure she had waddled her way to bathroom and closed the door, I came out from under the table on all fours, and the dark-haired boy greeted me with a, "Hey, sexy."
I had my curtain of hair hanging in front of me so he couldn't see my face, and I could barely see his. I stood up at full height, which was about 5'5" (because I was 13 at the time), smacked my hand against my ass, and started to walk away. He called after me, "Hey, wait, don't go. Can I at least get your number?" I wheeled around. He had stood up, and had his arm out toward me. I nearly had an orgasm on the spot; he was such a sexy beast. He stood about 5'8" and had a thin, but muscular body. He wore a big black shirt with a dark blue skateboarding emblem on it, tinged with orange. His shoes were black Vans and he looked like the hottest guy I had seen in a while. I was positive he had a six pack. He had on dark blue jeans, and I expected he was very warm, as it was August, but he did not show it.
For some reason that I could not put my finger on, he seemed familiar. I could not see his face clearly, and I didn't want him to see mine yet, so I kept my hair where it was. I beckoned him to leave with me. He cast a guilty look at the bathroom door, but came to me. I waved goodbye to my friends, and for some reason, they looked scared and nervous when they saw me with the guy.