Riley on her Pallet


Riley Jo Givens woke up that morning with just the tiniest hangover sitting right in the middle of her head. She stuck her pink tongue out and smacked her lips a few times against the sand paper feel, dry and chalky in her mouth. She was alone in the single wide trailer she shared with her mother, Raylee, and her mother’s sometime boyfriend, Carl. The two of them had gone to the casino in Lake Charles for the weekend, leaving her to manage by herself and to care for the menagerie of cats, dogs and goats that wandered around her mother’s place on the edge of Mermentau, Louisiana. At the end of Railroad Avenue, to be precise. She burped and tasted beer from the night before gurgle up in her throat. Grimacing with a pained look in her green eyes, she rolled over on the floor and off the pallet of blankets she slept on, pushed herself up on her knees and fumbled around among the sheets and pillows for her cigarettes and lighter. She grabbed the bottle of water she slept with, twisting the cap and pouring the cold stuff down her throat so fast she almost choked. The coolness and kolej escort bayan wetness of it filled her mouth. She stuck a smoke in it and lit it. Inhaled the first drag with a deep sigh.  She wore a white tank top that didn’t cover her belly. She had picked it out of her almost clean pile in the laundry hamper the night before to wear to the keg party at the creek after the football game. The Mermentau Tigers were playing the Lake Arthur Wildcats, and she was leading the cheer for Mermentau. They were 12-1 this year, and she planned to inspire the boys on the team all the way to the championship, if she had to go running naked down Railroad Avenue in the middle of the night to every one of their houses, climb up a ladder and dive under the sheets with them to make sure they knew how important it was to her.  She had an inney belly button, pierced with a silver fleur de lis banglet hanging down on a short piece of chain and pointing toward the line of soft silky down hair that peeked out of her thin cotton panties. A pair of yellow shorts with LSU printed in purple across Escort sihhiye her ass clung to her thighs. Now the shorts were creeping up her crack. She toked on the cigarette and squirmed around on the pallet, pulling the shorts out and stretching the tank top to almost fit over her big breasts.  Bill Jenkins was at that game last night, and it was for him she’d picked the tank top. Well, and the shorts too, for that matter. Bill was a linebacker on the football team, and he was a tall dark haired dream of a boy, but dumber than a bag of bunnies. She squinted her eyes and blew a fog of smoke out toward the screen window of the porch. Now she couldn’t remember if Bill had even noticed, if he’d even been impressed. He wasn’t lying here on her pallet with her, flat belly and six pack abs under her hands, letting her lick on him like a popsicle, so she assumed he hadn’t been impressed enough. She tried counting on her fingers how many little red plastic cups of beer she’d drank, but couldn’t remember beyond the first three.  Melissa Whittle had been at that party though, sincan escort and Riley was pretty sure Bill was keeping more than just an eye on that slut’s ass. Her and Melissa had kept a wary distance from each other so far all year, even though they were both co-captains of the cheerleading squad, and Riley wasn’t about to lose what she and Bill had together just as their senior graduation plans started to come together.  She bit her lip, thought of his hands running down her back and settling on her ass, squeezing and pulling her up, up, up, till she stood on her tiptoes and felt his ragged fingernails dig into her flesh.  Ah, he should have come home with her, she thought, running her hand down inside her shorts and feeling the slippery wet between her legs. She let the finger flick her clit until she shivered and then slide inside her pussy. Her labia were so sensitive in the mornings lately, the fabric of her underwear waking her up sometimes like thorns brushing against rose petals, like busy little fingernails on a fleshy engorged chalkboard. Her breathing hitched in her throat and she felt the hangover loosening its vice grip on her head. She flicked her cigarette out the open screen door, the green eyes of a big tabby cat sitting on the ledge of the window widening as the butt flew past its head.

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