5
Susie
* * *
I pace back and forth in my room anxiously. It’s been a week since I sent Brady that care package and I haven’t heard anything back. I tried to take deep breaths and remind myself that Afghanistan is a long ways away and he’s probably been busy. He’s on the front lines, for crying out loud. My needs and wants pale in comparison to what he’s going through.
Or maybe, I totally embarrassed myself and he’s laughing at my stupid note and picture with his buddies. I slap myself on the forehead. How could I have been so dumb? I mean, who am I kidding? Brady has probably been with a slew of women that are way more mature, beautiful, and amazing than me. They’re probably nowhere near as desperate either.
Suddenly, a small knock comes from my door. I turn around and see my mom poke her head in. Her brown hair is blown out, even if it looks a bit stiff. She’s wearing a loose-fitting black tank top and white sports bra. Her wide hips and round butt are packed away tightly in some pink yoga pants.
“Hi honey, are you okay?” she asks, reading the worry on my face.
“Oh yeah,” I say with a smile. “Nothing much, just some boy drama. Why, what’s up, Mom?”
I am surprised to see Jackie. With her new summer hours, she’s hardly home. If she’s not volunteering, then she’s at the casino with my dad. This is the first time I’ve seen more than just her shadow in two weeks.
She frowns at me, her pink frosted lips pursing.
“Well, you know boys your age are basically twelve mentally. Don’t get too caught up in that drama. It’ll do nothing but drain you and distract you, my smart little Susie Cue.”
I smiled wryly at my dreaded childhood nickname.
“Don’t worry, I’m not wasting a second thought on my male classmates. Anyways, did you need something?”
My mom nods.
“Oh right, that’s why I came in here. You have a letter, sweetheart. From Brady Firestone? Isn’t that our neighbor whose house you watch?” she asks, handing over a dirty white envelope.
I take it from her with shaky fingers. Holding it in my hand, I read my name and address written in black, scratchy ink. Brady actually responded? I am so nervous I think I stop breathing for a second. I can’t even hear my mom anymore, my heart is pounding so loud in my ears. She looks at me oddly again.
“Why is Mr. Firestone sending you mail from Afghanistan?” she asks casually. “I didn’t know you knew each other that well.”
I stammer.
“Um…I…it’s because I’m taking care of his house. So, you know, I sent him a letter basically saying everything is okay. Oh, and um also, I sent a care package. You know, part of my summer volunteer work. Like what we did for Junior League a while ago,” I stammer out.
She nods, still looking a bit suspicious. But Jackie knows the veterans’ project that I have been participating in for the last couple of years.
“Oh, that’s right. That’s so nice of you to do that, sweetheart, especially while you have free time. You could be doing anything, like hanging out with your friends or chasing boys. But instead, here you are, making cookies for our neighbor fighting overseas. Oh my Susie Cue, how did I end up with such a perfect daughter?” she kisses me on the forehead.
I shake my head. “Mom, I’m not perfect. I’m like every other young adult out there.”
My mom beams.
“You’re perfect to me and that’s all that matters. Think about what you want for dinner and tell me what Brady says about the cookies! I remember when you made them. They were delicious, and your best batch yet!”
I smile weakly at her.
“Oh definitely, I’ll make sure to tell you what he says. And thanks, I just used your recipe.”
My mom smiles at me, tapping her index finger on her chin and twisting her mouth.
“No wonder! I thought they tasted familiar. Anyways, think about dinner and I’ll leave you to it.” She smiles one last time before turning and leaving my room, closing the door softly behind her.
As soon as I hear the click of the door, I instantly rip open the letter. I have to see what he said. Right before I take the note out, I pause, suddenly nervous. My heart pounds loudly in my chest and my blood is pulsing quickly through my veins. I feel my breath catch as I slide the piece of paper out of the envelope.
With shaky hands, I unfold the letter and begin to read his scratchy handwriting. I get more and more excited with each word.
* * *
Dear Kid,
* * *
Well I should probably stop calling you “Kid” as you are far from that Susie, the Girl Next Door. You are sexier than you know. I’ve been thinking about you too, ever since you came flouncing out your house in those tiny shorts and even tinier top. I know exactly what you were doing, and I think you do too. Watering flowers? I don’t think those begonias saw a drop, Kid.
Anyways, I’m writing this letter to say thank you for the cookies. They were delicious and I ate them all in one sitting. I also want to say I’m looking forward to the other cookie that you told me about. I’m sure that cookie is warm and smells just like vanilla. I promise you, when I see you next, I will serve you something you couldn’t bake in your wildest dreams. Wait for me, Susie. Meanwhile, I look forward to your next batch of goodies.
* * *
Brady
* * *
I read the note over and over again, feeling an intense pulse between my legs. I ache for him so bad, and I don’t even know what it feels like for someone to be inside me. But there’s definitely that special spark that I’ve been waiting for. I put my hand on my mound and feel my wetness through my cotton panties. I start rubbing my clit in slow, small circles, moaning quietly as I release some of the tension building up between my legs.
I open my eyes and look at the letter again. I scan down to the very bottom of the letter and realize he’s left me a p.s. that says to look on the back. I flip the letter over and gasp at the image that’s on the opposite side.
Oh my god, there’s a full-size drawing of me! My features are slightly exaggerated, but I can absolutely tell that it is me. What I can’t take my eyes off of is the fact that I’m topless. Brody’s drawn me with my voluptuous breasts swinging freely. In the picture, I’m sitting with my legs open with just a tiny thong covering my womanhood. Long locks of hair drape all over my shoulders, and in the drawing, I’m looking directly at the reader and blowing a kiss. He’s shaded my cheeks to show how flushed I can be when I’m aroused.
“Holy shit! Is this how he sees me?” I whisper breathlessly. Looking at this drawing, I instantly get turned on again. I imagine Brady’s strong hands scooping up all of me and carrying me into his house. Once inside, I see him gazing into my eyes, before seizing my lips with his own. We’re swept up in a passionate kiss even as he strokes my body, making me purr.
These X-rated thoughts overwhelm me. I fall onto my back in my bed and push my hand down my panties. I’m soaking wet and my hand sinks into my soft warmth. I rub my clit, slowly at first, imagining Brady here with me, and inhaling his masculine scent. As I imagine him touching me and sliding his hand down my terry cloth shorts, I move my hand in smaller, faster circles. A rippling sensation begins in my core, as my toes curl and my back arches.
In my imagination, I see Brady picking me up and walking me to the bed, sitting me on his lap. He gently slides me down on top of him and then eases all of himself inside of me. The stretch is delightful, and I moan a bit with pain as he allows me to adjust. Then, he does this again over and over, easing in and out. Facing each other, he fills me up, and we move in unison, rhythmically grinding back and forth, faster and faster. He pulls me close until we both climax at the same time, me shuddering in his strong grasp. This final thought pushes me over the edge, and I orgasm, my entire body stricken with pleasure that pulses all the way down to my toes.
I run my hand up and down my mound, feeling how wet I am from nothing but Brady. I feel so relieved, but like I’m still missing something. I feel like a vegetarian, full but never completely satisfied. I know that I want him and that I need all of him. There’s no question in my mind: I’ll wait for Brady no matter how long it takes.
When I come back down from my erotic exploration, I run over to my desk and furiously begin writing him another letter, this one even steamier than the last one. When I’m satisfied with the note, I spritz it with a small puff of my vanilla perfume.
Then I go to my dresser and set up my camera. I decide to be even bolder this time. I’m going to give Brady Firestone something he can’t resist and a sly smile crosses my face as I begin to click the shutter.