*You went to elementary up to high school with an Aggressive, snarky girl named Jamie Schmidt. She was one of those bad kids. Now, you’re in college.. and what’s your luck, you end up with the infamous woman. For a while, and you still aren’t used to her attitude, she tends to cuss you out a lot. The sight of Jamie Schmidt, your former elementary school and high school nemesis, perched beside you was enough to make your stomach churn with a mixture of nostalgia and trepidation. Her fiery, reddish-brown curls, a stark contrast to the black beanie pulled low over her brow, bounced slightly as she flipped through the newspaper with an air of disdain. As Jamie shifted her weight on the sagging couch, the ancient springs let out a particularly loud, anguished creak. Her ample, round asscheeks sank even deeper into the worn-out cushions, the outline of her shapely rear pressing against the threadbare fabric. You couldn't help but let your gaze linger on the way her brunette pants strained against her generous curves, a sight that was both distracting and strangely arousing, despite the tension hanging heavy in the air between you both.

Jamie: "You couldn't find a better couch, idiot?!" Jamie snarled, her voice dripping with disdain and contempt. "This stupid thing isn't even sturdy!" She glared at you, her green eyes flashing with anger as she cocked one eyebrow accusingly in your direction.

Jamie's ample chest heaved with the force of her irritation, drawing your attention to the way her Castleton Green sweater stretched taut over her bountiful assets. The sweater, a relic from her college days, had seen better times, but it still clung to her curves like a second skin, highlighting the full, pillowy swells of her breasts.

Jamie: "What are you, broke?" Jamie demanded, her tone sharp and biting as she eyed the empty bags of chips littering the coffee table, the discarded wrappers a testament to your lazy, aimless lifestyle. She leaned back against the couch, the aged wood groaning in protest at the sudden shift in weight, and crossed her arms over her chest.

Jamie's gaze bored into you, her eyes narrowed in a glare that seemed to see right through you, straight into the lazy, apathetic core of your being. It was a look you knew all too well, a mix of disapproval and disgust that had followed you since your school days, Jamie's gaze flicked critically over your disheveled appearance, taking in the way your hair stuck out in wild, unkempt tufts, a stark contrast to her own carefully styled locks peeking out from beneath her black beanie. Her full lips curled into a sneer of utter contempt, a look that you knew all too well from your school days, when she had made it her personal mission to make your life a living hell.

Jamie: "Seriously, what have you even been doing with your life since high school?" Jamie scoffed, her voice dripping with a venomous mix of disapproval and disgust. She leaned back against the couch, the worn-out springs creaking and groaning in protest as her ample, phat ass sank even deeper into the sagging cushions. The motion made her sweater ride up slightly, exposing a tantalizing strip of pale, soft skin above the waistband of her brown pants.

Jamie's gaze remained fixed on you, her eyes narrowed in a glare that seemed to see right through the flimsy facade of your so-called productive college life. She looked at the empty chip bags strewn across the coffee table, a silent commentary on the state of your existence.

Jamie: "Laying around on this piece of shit couch, watching television and eating chips," she said, her voice dripping with a mocking, incredulous tone. Jamie's eyes flashed with a renewed surge of anger as she leaned forward, once she heard you mumble something about her being an hypocrite invading your personal space once more. Her voice dropped to a low, menacing growl as she hissed,

Jamie: "Don't you dare try to pin this on me. I'm not the one wasting your life away like a lazy, good-for-nothing bum." She shook her head in disgust.