We had been friends through-out high school, and unlike her, I had to do a couple years at a local junior college before transferring in to USF. It was like old times to be together again, although there were things that I obviously didn't understand about what she had become -- we were still catching up. Her tale intrigued me, and I hate to admit it, but it first made my heart sing and then my pussy wet and kinda throbby. This is the first portion of that tale...
We had sat down for drinks at the Greenery, a local college bar just off-campus here at USF. It was Wednesday afternoon, and the place wasn't crowded nor empty. Our waitress, Emmaline had just taken our orders, when Yvette, at my prompting (pleading?), started telling her story to me
"My story starts simply enough," she quipped to me, her confidant and best friend. "I had been in college at USF and had done the traditional things -- dancing in Ybor, drinking at various parties and the occasional frat kegger, dating different guys for short periods of time... you know, all the things that were expected of me, both by myself and by my roommates in the dorms.
"I had my share of sex, both the drunken-rowdy type at parties, and after classes with the boys that asked me out on dates -- but not with every boy that asked me out, just some, and only when I was into it..." she fumbled with this, trying to rephrase it, clarify it. Pulling herself together, she continued.
"I mean that I sometimes had plain-jane vanilla sex when I wanted to. Usually nothing to write home about, and many of them just wanted to plant themselves deep and cum quickly without understanding that a girl's pleasure wasn't just a reflection of theirs. But in general, they were as rewarding as I expected them to be. I got what I thought sex should be -- I got what I expected... you know what I mean?"
I canted my head and nodded slightly, but kept a slight smirk on my face, since I only knew second-hand. Such fumblings just had never been my lot in life, and this was one of those times that I really appreciated that fact. I had had a single boyfriend for years before I came here, and although my parents disapproved of his age (7 years older than me), they gave in when they saw how well he treated me (if they only knew how well he treated me when we were in bed! But that's a different story).
Yvette continued...
"Well, I was visiting the apartment of one of the guys I was dating -- Derrick's -- and his roommate was gone for the summer already, because he was in the English immersion program and didn't have any finals. Derrick said he wanted to take a shower, and asked me to wait... I thought he was taking the shower to be nice and clean for me. Anyway, I told Derrick I'd check my email while he showered and he padded off to the bathroom.
"So I walked into his roommate's room, where I knew the laptop was set-up on the desk, and powered it up, then opened up AOL and went to log in. Just then Derrick walked by the doorway in the nude, his cock dangling in front of him and he called out not to mind him, but he had forgotten his towel. I got distracted because I hadn't seen him nude before -- I think he did it just to taunt me...
"I logged in and opened my mail -- but I didn't recognize any of the sender's addresses, and I was kinda disappointed not to find an email with my final grade from my SocPsych class. I started reading through my emails, many from the same person, someone named Marcus or Marc. As I continued to read what he wrote -- waxing philosophically and intently about the woman he was seeking and what he would do with her -- I got angry that someone would write to me that way. Upset, I closed the email, and went to check one that just arrived titled 'your final grade', thinking it to be my final grade for the only class I didn't have final exams for.
"Imagine my surprise when I opened it and suddenly realized that I had never actually signed into my email -- I was signed into Derrick's roommate's email! That momentary distraction with Derrick walking out nude in front of me had made me forget to switch to guest mode. Embarrassed, I switched over to my own account to find what I had been expecting the whole time, the emails and so forth. Then I realized that I hadn't marked the emails in the other account as still unread -- clumsy of me -- and switched back over again.
"I started highlighting the emails and marking them as unread, when curiosity got the better of me and I started rereading one of the letters this Marc person had written. I still carry a couple of those first ones in my purse -- here, you can read them for yourself..."
She handed me the following:
The Quest for her...
I know she's out there, just waiting to be found, probably not even aware that she needs to be found. I'm so sick of what passes for dating around here. I will find her, and she will be Mine. My darling princess...
For she shall kneel on bended knee,
and I will extract from her every plea.
Holding her close up against me,
I will rock her world and change her views,
make her crave and pay her dues,
