Frida and Zecora Meet

‘It’s just some woman,’ Frida thought to herself as she ran across the roofs, making sure she had the specific taxi in her sight the whole time. ‘Why am I doing this?’

She never believed in any of that love at first sight bullshit. Love is an over time thing, not a smack you in the face out of nowhere event. But for some reason… she felt she had to meet this woman. Not just the body either, though that was eye catching. The air she carried herself with, the vibe she gave off. As if she needed a release from the day to day slog of life.

It’s the exact same air Frida knew she once had before she found her calling.

She didn’t know if this would result in a relationship. Hell, she didn’t even know whether or not it would end in sex. But she knew inside her that regardless of the end result… she needed to do this. She’d always wonder if she didn’t try.

Zecora

Far from the most impressive I’ve seen and I didn’t put out for them either string bean!

With that message sent, she blocked the number and practically threw her phone onto the seat next to her. Why is it so hard to find even a halfway decent person these days. Sometimes she wished she had been given an average body.

Sure, when she first started developing, it was nice. She won the unofficial vote in school for best booty and came in second for best chest. That’s not including her most likely to succeed vote in the class yearbook.

Once she hit the real world though… attractiveness became just as much a curse as an asset.

Jobs? Harassment. Dating? Nothing but sex sex sex. Family? Hell, her mother’s last few boyfriends only dated her mom to possibly get Zecora herself alone. Did her mom see it like that? No. She thought Zecora just had a fetish for older men and lured them in by wearing sexy clothes that accentuated her rear.

As if sweat pants weren’t the only thing that had a chance of hiding her ass! And it’s not like she could wear those to work or job hunting or what have you. And heaven forbid if she wanted to go swimming.

At least she still had her passion, but even that was starting to be eaten away. Half the time, her class wasn’t even paying attention to what she said. The only words going through their minds were “Jiggle jiggle jiggle.”

Some had even tried grabbing her ass or even turned in dick pics with their homework. She couldn’t even report these assholes since Principal Sombra would just chew her out for showing off. As if she hadn’t tried dressing more casual, but “Empire’s School for the Gifted doesn’t allow their faculty to dress like common street walkers.”

Damned if you do, damned if you don’t.

She didn’t want to hate her body. She knew it was one any woman would kill for. But Zecora couldn’t help but sometimes wish she didn’t have to deal with it.

When the taxi stopped, she gave the driver his money, and a middle finger when he said she could pay another way, before stepping out into hell.

Frida

The taxi finally stopped in front of a snobby looking school and Frida growled when she saw it. This school for privileged assholes. Joy. She almost wanted to walk away, thinking that if that chocolate goddess worked here, she must be just as much of a stuck up prude.

Then she watched her get out and flip off the cab driver. Perhaps a more wild side? Frida could see the look on her face even from here as she stormed into the building. The air she carried herself was clear. She hated this place.

Guys followed the teacher (for that’s what Frida assumed she must be at this school) with their eyes while girls flared in jealousy and Frida saw the teacher adjust her stature.

Frida knew that walk. Slumping over a bit so your breasts don’t stick out. Purposefully avoiding swaying her hips. This woman wasn’t happy with her body. Another thing Frida knew something about.

Well, that would just have to be another thing Frida helps her with.

Deciding that enough was enough and that she needed to talk to this woman, Frida grabbed a drain pipe, and slid down it like a fire pole.