Hullo, everyone!
Welcome to the third chapter of my real-life erotic journey. It's been a few weeks since the events of Chapter Two, so there's a gap between what's going on in my life right now and this journal. I hope to catch up a bit with this chapter. You guys won't get a chance to vote on my path this time around, since I'm just trying to fill in the gaps, but I promise, the next chapter you will!
It turns out that I'm a much busier girl than I first realized. What started out in my mind as a story about me choosing between a guy my age and a much older professor has blossomed into several little stories, and I have no idea where they are leading at this point. Naturally, I think it's all my fault because I have been reading entirely too many stories here on Lit, and I get these ideas and want to see how they'd work in real life. So, we'll take things one at a time.
First,
MrZ.
The week after MrZ and I had the texting convos from Chapter Two was pretty quiet. Not a lot of flirting going on, and I was beginning to think that maybe I had gone too far too fast and scared him off. Boy was I wrong! One of my Lit buddies suggested that I get him to buy me something, to get him more committed, which sounded like a great idea to me.
As it turned out, MrZ had plans all on his own!
The next day I waited after class. I only have a few minutes between that class and the next, which is on the other side of the campus, so I had to hurry. Imagine my disappointment when another chick waited after to talk with MrZ too! But all was not lost. He interrupted her and told me that if I needed help with my 'report' that I should attend his creative writing workshop, which is in the evenings on Wednesday. Score!
Still, I wasn't about to be deterred from my mission. The next day, I waited after class again. This time, while we were talking, I discreetly handed him one of the ads from Victoria's Secret that I get in the mail. He glanced at it and quickly stuck it in his pocket.
"What do you want me to do with this?" he asked.
I shrugged and stared at my feet, to hide the fact that I was blushing like crazy. "I think you can figure that out," I said. "I get the ads all the time, but I've never actually walked in the store."
I looked up, and he was blushing too. It was awkward and wonderful, and despite the fact that the students for his next class were already starting to file in, he nodded and said he would.
Another weekend passed, and as one of my advisers on Lit guessed, MrZ didn't make any purchases over the weekend. He was getting cold feet, I thought. It's one thing to flirt when no one else is looking, it's another to actually walk into a store and by lacy, naughty things for your student.
Once again, I waited until class ended. This time, the entire class left and we had a couple of minutes alone. I walked behind his desk and slid my butt up on his desk top as suggestively as I could without looking like a slut. I leaned back and asked if he had been to the mall recently. I tried to be casual.
"No," he said, very apologetically. He started to stammer, saying he intended too, but never found the time.
Then he said something like, "You know, Sara, I could get into a lot of trouble, with you being my student and all..."
I interrupted him and said, "MrZ, I'm not going to tell anyone, promise. Not a soul, not even my best friend has any idea that we talk."
Then I pinkie promised him that I wouldn't talk about it. It might not be a big deal to you, but to me, a pinkie promise is the next closest thing to swearing by your mom's grave or selling your soul or something. Seriously.
The week passed so quickly, and Wednesday was there before I knew it. That day, I wore outfit that is the guy killer. It's a classic Catholic school girl. Plaid skirt just above the knee, black, patent leather Docs, purple and black socks that go up to the knee, a white, button-up shirt, and darker colored bra. I put my hair up in a pigtail on the side of my head like the girl from Napoleon Dynamite. I wanted MrZ to see me in class and know what he was getting himself into that night. Oh, he noticed alright!
So that evening I got dropped off at school, so that way I wouldn't be lying when I said I needed a ride home. Risky, but I could always call one of my brothers to come get me if MrZ chickened out. The creative writing class is mostly for older peeps who aren't in school, for personal enrichment or whatever. I'll skip all the boring stuff in class, even though I love it, and go right to the end.
MrZ was putting his stuff away in his bag and I walked up. He smiled. He was expecting me. I told him that I needed a ride home. He totally balked, but I gave him my best pouty, doe-eyed look and he caved. The walk from the classroom through the parking lot to his car was quiet and filled with those awkward little attempts at conversation that I find so adorable. He knew why I was there, and wanted to talk about anything BUT why I was there. I spent the entire walk trying to keep my palms from sweating and wondering if it would be too obvious if I popped a tic-tac into my mouth. He opened the door for me and walked around to let himself in.
During the ride home, I slid down just a little bit to reveal some leg. I watched out of the corner of my eye while I fidgeted with the radio dial and caught him looking at me. Earlier in the week I actually practiced making my skirt ride up my leg without touching it with my hands. It's not easy to do, but an essential skill I think if you want to show a little skin and make it seem incidental!
We got to my neigborhood, and despite all my wishes and intense focusing of my jedi mind powers, he had not put his hand on my bare knee...sigh...what a gentleman MrZ is. Pay attention boys...nice guys do not finish last! It's such an unfair game, but if MrZ had come across as too pushy it would have ruined it for me. He asked where my house was and I took him down a few streets and pointed to a house. He pulled up in front and stopped the car. Then followed the tense, nervous silence of two very anxious people waiting for something to happen.
I thanked him for taking me home.
He said it was his pleasure, any time, all that good stuff.
I raised a brow and gave him that, 'well, what are you waiting for?' look.
"Sara, we're in front of your house," he said, somewhat dejectedly.
I shook my head and couldn't stop myself from grinning like an idiot. "No we're not, I don't know who's house this is, I just wanted you to stop the car."
I couldn't make it any easier for him.
He waited, just long enough for me to wonder if he was actually going to do it, then he leaned over and kissed me.
No, MrZ did more than kiss me, it was like he made love to me with his mouth. It was amazing. He put a hand on my waist and the other behind my neck and gave me the single most erotic experience of my life. I've kissed two other guys, but compared to MrZ, they were just boys. I melted into a little pile of goo and slid down to his floorboard. He could have kissed me for hours. He could have done anything he wanted to me at that moment and I would have let him. I've never felt anything like it. Who needs a g-spot when a guy can kiss like that?
