Meredith was a goddess. She knew it. Her boyfriend knew it. The creeps who sent her hundreds of dollars for pictures of her feet and cleavage knew it. Everyone who saw her knew it. She was fucking beautiful. Long dark hair down her back, gravity defying breasts the size of watermelons, wide breeding hips, and a big juicy ass. She had the curves of a chubby girl, but she kept her figure too. She had abs for fucks sake. She worked hard to capitalize on her natural beauty. Green eyes, plump lips, beautiful pale skin. She was a fucking goddess. Everyone knew it. Apparently, so did she.

Meredith, for the life of her, couldn't remember the girls name. Some nobody bitch from highschool. A loser. Unpopular, weird. What was her name? Some of the other girls bullied her, Meredith might have too, but she never went out of her way to. This girl, what the fuck was her name, had always been beneath Meredith’s notice. In fact, Meredith hadn't thought about her in years. Or ever really. As soon as what's her face was out of view, she was gone from thought. The living embodiment of out of sight out of mind. No, Meredith didn't think about this girl, but apparently the reverse wasn't true.

The picture was two years old. Meredith in a tiny black bikini at the beach. Her hair whipping in the wind, the sun and sand behind her, showing her off in all her glory. It was a good picture. Sexy. It had lots of likes, at the time. And a new one. She got the alert on her phone. She was bored that night. Curiosity got the better of her. Who was liking a two year old picture? Her creepy step dad? Some stalker? Maybe what's her face was a stalker. As far as she knew, Meredith had never been stalked by another woman before. Why was the thought exciting? She shouldn't, but…

“Hey you. I don't remember your name. But clearly you remember me. You know that picture is two years old right? That's really creepy you know, going that far back on my page. Are you some kind of pervert? I guess it's ok though, you're not the only one. Maybe if you beg, and send me fifty dollars, I'll let you see what I'm wearing right now. And don't keep me waiting, I'm not going to want to play with you if something better comes up.”

Meredith hit send on the message. She wouldn't have to wait long for a reply. Nobody ever keeps a goddess waiting.

(No chats)