In the days following our first encounter, I beat my dick raw. I mean, we're talking "within an inch of its life" territory. Anything at all reminded me of how badly I wanted and needed to find my way back between her thighs. I knew there had to be something that had attracted her to me in the first place, but frankly, I was entirely convinced she'd find me boring given another 5 minutes with me not spent naked. I wasn't going to let that happen, I couldn't. She seemed pretty into the school thing during the limited time we had spent together, and I figured I could knock off the deadbeat slacker routine and give her a more cerebral reason to keep me around. So I hit the books. Well, I went and bought them anyway, and only a few weeks into the term later than I was supposed to.
In the next few days, I found some passion back, genuinely, for my major. Who knew there was so much to know? I was voracious in a way that very nearly took my mind off the need to lick her again. We had been texting since that night, in the flirty way that horny freshmen do. She sent me a beautiful picture of her pussy a few days later, with the panties she'd modelled for me earlier pulled just to the side. I told her, truthfully, that I hated that my tongue wasn't on her clit that very moment. Like a true tease, all she said was that she'd be late to class if she let me. So I jerked myself off and hit the library again.
Halfway to campus a day or two later, my phone vibrated again, her name there on the screen. Hoping beyond hope for another glimpse of her body, my heart did sink mildly to see it was clothed pic. The disappointment ebbed swiftly though, as I looked more closely at the body I had been daydreaming about every waking minute all week. The dress she wore was incredibly tight on her already tight body, fabric stretchy to the point of its tensile limits across her perky chest. I bit my lip; she was so fine, it was hard to imagine she was real. If I hadn't just seen my cock disappear in her throat, I'd swear she wasn't. She asked if I was coming out tonight in the accompanying message. It was Friday, and I was likely to end up at the same dirty little hole with my pals as always. I knew she meant to a club, which wasn't my thing, but you're out of your mind if you thought I was going to say no to her. So, I said yes, and asked where to meet her. She was getting ready at home, and I was welcome to come pre-game there, which meant roommates in all likelihood, and not a great chance to have her. Still, I was thrilled to be meeting her friends, and showing my quality as an actual person, even if I felt I would be bumbling along a bit.
When I got there, a few of her friends sat around in the living room; I said hi and they informed me that my...date?...was in her room down the hall. She herself wasn't there, as it turns out, but she called me to the bathroom where she stood at her mirror curling her dark brown hair. Her smile melted me and I'm sure I said something stupid because she further destroyed me by giggling at whatever nonsense had come out of my mouth. I decided she must have bad taste in men when she said she was glad I came. We made small talk while she continued curling and I leaned in the doorway with a cheap beer in hand that had been passed to me by another guest. Just as I thought she was nearly done, she voiced frustration to the fact that she'd forgotten to shave her legs. I said I could step out if she wanted to do it, I didn't mind mingling. I don't think I ever would have noticed any hair on her legs anyway; the dress really was the kind of tight that only a 19 year old ever thinks to wear, and she had tights on besides.
No, she said, stay.
She smirked.
I could help.
Standing, tights off and skirt hiked above her waist on the edge of the tub, she instructed me to find some shaving cream in the vanity. I found it and tried to pass it to her, true to character, before she gave me a look that said plainly that I needed to hurry up and take the hint.
