Chapter 3 Oh, Boy:

Laramie:

I arrived back at my dorm a few hours later after having had dinner with my dad. He excitedly spoke about starting his new job, getting settled into his new apartment - which was also on campus, only a few minute's walk away from my dormitory, and how much he looked forward to a new start.

I listened absent-mindedly. I agreed when I had to, nodded my head when he expected a response, and said a few words here and there to create the illusion that I was taking part in the conversation. But in truth, my mind was nowhere near. Instead, it was back at the college bar - the bathroom to be exact.

I simply couldn't get what had happened in there out of my mind. Images of him touching me, entering me, and devouring me kept swimming around in my mind.

My skin still tingled where his hands had touched me. I could still taste him on my tongue - feel the size of him between my legs. My nipples once again strained against the soft fabric of my bra, yearning to be caressed between his skilful fingers again, and I had to cover myself with my jacket to keep my dad from noticing.

As much as I enjoyed spending time with him, all I could think about was getting out of there and back to my room so that I could be alone...

I was relieved to find that the dorm was empty, even though the other side of the room had been filled with my roommate's many, many possessions. The bed was made with pink and white bedding and scattered with colourful fluffy pillows, various bright posters adorned the walls above the bed, and a string of fairy lights had been put up casting a soft glow across the entirety of the small room.

I stripped myself naked and climbed into bed without taking a shower - I wasn't ready to wash the scent of him off just yet. I closed my eyes and allowed the coolness of the sheets to envelope me completely. My body longed for his touch. My loins ached to be filled by him again.

The feeling was desperate - all consuming, threatening to drive me mad.

Slowly, I began to slide my hands up and down my body imagining that they belonged to him. I cupped my breasts and massaged them, gently twisting my nipples between my fingers. Keeping my eyes closed, I recalled every detail I could about him: the intensity in his eyes, the warmth of his breath against my skin, the softness of his hands, his musky scent - and my body reacted accordingly.

I could feel myself getting wet, soaking the sheets beneath me. With one hand I continued to fondle my breast while the other made its way down between my legs. Using my fingers, I made slow, soft circles around my throbbing clit - the hunger inside me grew out of control. It was more than I could take, and I needed that sweet release.

So, I plunged my fingers into my folds and moved them with urgent purpose - my clit wanted more so I released my tender breast and circled my clit once more with my fingers. The feeling was delicious. I pressed my hips into my hands, letting my knees fall open onto the bed. My orgasm was relentless as it tore through me, making my entire body quacke with pleasure. I fell back against the bed breathlessly, my hands trembling. I could still see the frame of his beautiful face in my mind, and just like that, my body wanted more.

I repeated the act of playing with myself over and over again until my body was spent and my mind finally emptied. Sleep came easy after that.

The next morning I woke to an empty dorm once again, but this time the bed had been slept in and left unmade.

I stretched and yawned, my body aching in the best way possible. The day before felt like a dream, like it had happened to someone else, and I was only allowed to watch. I felt rested and ready for my first day of classes. I hopped out of bed and headed for the showers - determined to put the handsome stranger and what happened between us in the back of my mind, remembering it as nothing more than a reckless moment in time.

I came here for a fresh start - for the promise of being able to reinvent myself. And that was exactly what I planned on doing.

My first class was Contemporary English Literature, and I was thoroughly excited. The auditorium was packed by the time I arrived. The voices of so many unfamiliar faces filled the room as they chatted happily - some meeting for the first time, others clearly having known each other before that day. The air felt heavy with the excited anticipation of young minds eager to learn.

I found an empty seat somewhere in the middle and immediately bussied myself with unpacking my bag.

"Apparently he's really hot, the professor."

I heard a blonde-haired girl in the row in front of me whisper to her friend.

"Oh, he absolutely is. I've seen him. Why else do you think the front row is so full? Englist Litt really isn't that interesting."

Her friend replied. I smiled, shook my head and sat down. A hot college professor - how cliche.

After a few minutes, I became aware of a strong male voice introducing himself as Professor Ethan James. By the time I looked up, he had his back turned and was writing his name on the board - something about him felt vaguely familiar. I pushed the strange feeling aside and looked back down to open my text book. A deafening, uncomfortable silence fell across the auditorium then.

When I looked up again, my heart stopped. The blood coursing through my veins ran ice-cold.

He was staring at me. So was everybody else.

It was him - the stranger from the bar. The man that had ravished me so completely that no other man will ever be able to measure up again.

But he was a stranger no more. He had a name: Professor Ethan James.

I wanted the world to open up and swallow me whole...