I pulled the door closed and stepped outside the house into darkness. My right hand dug into my jean pocket and pulled out a cheap cigar. I expertly punched a tiny hole in one end (which yields a much better smoke than a cut) and put it between my lips. With the same hand I pulled out my lucky red lighter and lit the tobacco filled stick. My other hand held a Bud Light.

            I heard the door open and close again. Casually, I leaned back against the brick wall of the house, bending my left knee so I could plant the sole of my sandal against the wall. Rebecca, a girl with short blonde hair with just a hint of curls walked outside and looked around. “Damn” came to my mind when I saw her walk out.

Rebecca was wearing a short jean skirt, tight enough so that it showed every curve of what little it actually covered. Stretching out from under the skirt were her well-muscled tan legs, ending with her feet in a pair of sandals. Her pink tank top showed just how skinny she was, and it made her blonde hair stand out even more, even though she was a fake blonde.

I saw her look around in the yard before turning around for the door again. From my view, I noticed two things through the smoke I was blowing out as she turned. First, I noticed her breast, which bounced as she turned despite the tight pink tank top. Second, I noticed her look of disappointment turn into one pleasure once she saw me leaning against the wall. “There you are!” Rebecca said, flashing a perfect white smile. Her freckles even highlighted the curve of her lips on her narrow face, making her seem innocent.  “What are you doing out here smoking? There are a lot of people out on the back porch.”

With a quick jerk of my head, I threw my light brown hair out of my eyes. I ashed my cigar and took another puff. “If those guys knew I had cigars, they’d keep asking for one, so I came out here.” It was a complete lie, I came out here to see if she would follow me, playing the oldest trick in the book – playing hard to get.