Meet Tiffany at the mall.
From Create Your Own Story
You decide to go see Tiffany at the mall. After all, what better place to spend the money that's burning a hole in your back pocket? Last week you'd turned eleven, and that means you have two hundred dollars from your grandparents. It would have been more if you'd done better on your first semester tests at school, but scraping by was all you'd managed. Fifth grade was just too hard. And boring. You'd spent more time gazing dreamily at the boys than you had at the blackboard or textbooks.
Sighing, you walk swiftly toward the mall, driven by images of all the things you could buy. Too many things crowd your mind, which is why it's good Tiffany will be there. She is three years older than you, always knows what to do and isn't shy about ordering you around. Since she's already in junior high she's easily the coolest friend you've had - and the only one you have since moving here just after Christmas - and you're terrified she might dump you if you don't continue to show her how cool you are.
Which is why you being a virgin is a problem. Tiffany talks all the time about boys and sex, and gets so incredibly graphic that you just know she's been fucking for years now. You'd listen, embarrassed and turned on as she talked, your panties getting wetter and wetter until you had to be very careful not to let her see the wet spot on your jeans. Since you're still wearing last year's jeans that makes it even harder. You might have no breasts to speak of but you've gained an inch or two of leg over the last year, making the jeans skin-tight. Now if only you weren't the shortest girl in your class and didn't still look like a kid.
Arriving at the mall you dash through the doors, thankful for the mall's air conditioning. Being in the south means hotter temperatures than you're used to, and you forgot to bring a hat to protect your pasty white skin.
Pausing, you send a text to Tiffany, asking her where to meet. She immediately replies and you walk over to the food court, sparsely crowded this early in the day.
"Hey, Stephi," Tiffany drawls, not looking up from her phone.
You really want her to call you Steph or Stephanie, since Stephi sounds like a little girl's name, but you don't have the courage to object, just like every other time you've wanted to. Besides, you're too busy trying to close your mouth. Your jaw dropped as soon as you saw her sitting there. Not because she was gorgeous, though she is pretty. It's because she was wearing a short skirt (as usual) and had her feet up against the table, meaning anyone could look under and see her panties.
If she's even wearing any, you wonder.
"H-hi Tiff. What's up?"
"Oh, just texting some guys. We had fun last night," she grins, and you feel your heart-rate pick up in anticipation of juicy details. You've been absorbing her tales like a sponge ever since you first met, so much so that you've tried spinning a few tales of your own. They sounded fake to your ears, and probably too embellished and sluttish, but the approval in her eyes when you told them to her just led you to make your adventures bigger and crazier. Now she thought you were a bigger slut than she was and was always pestering you for stories about your sexual adventures from before moving here and you weren't sure how to fix it. Just because you wanted to lose your virginity didn't mean you wanted to be a slut.
"S-so, what're we doing today?" you ask, striving for casual.
"You got that money from your grandparents, right? Let's go get you a wardrobe"
