Sara frowned as she looked into her drink, slowly swirling it. Her sorority sisters dragged her along to this campus mixer, but a quick look around the room revealed that the only guys here were the usual losers trolling for sex at the local bar they frequented. She'd been counting the minutes til they were going to leave, so she'd taken a seat by the punch bowl hoping to drown her sorrows while passing the time.
"Um, excuse me, miss..."
It seemed to take her longer than normal for her to raise her eyes to meet those of the man before her, slowly drinking in the view. He seemed to be about 6'4" with short, chestnut hair, fashionably cut and dark eyes you could get lost in.
"Is this seat taken?"
Sara caught herself staring and stammered, "No, it's free..."
"Thanks. Are you here by yourself? It seems you've made yourself at home by the punch bowl."
"Haha, no, my sorority sisters dragged me here, but there's nothing but creeps who've tried to hit on me before here." she said with irritation clearly in her voice. "But I haven't seen you around before."
"Ah, my frat brothers convinced me to come, but I knew it was a bad idea. They thought they needed another wing man."
"Bad idea, huh? Is that code for you have a girlfriend?"
"Haha, no, it's just not exactly my scene..."
"Oh? Why's that?"
"Well, for starters, I'm gay, and this place isn't exactly the best place to find a boyfriend."
"Oohhhh. Well, yeah, that makes sense."
"Yeah."
Damn, there goes any chance of salvaging the night, she thought while looking over this clearly fit guy, tracing the veins up his muscled arms.
"So...you're gay? I really wouldn't have thought that at first glance."
"Haha, I get that a lot. People say I don't really look gay. Usually they say I have a 'boy next door' look, that or a football player."
It made sense, Sara thought, with his mid-western accent and clean shaven face with just a touch of stubble. Not to mention his physique and hair. It looked like he could model for Abercrombie or Calvin Klein.
"Are you one? It looks like you work out from how fit you are."
"Nah. I did wrestle in high school, but I'm just keeping up what I built from there."
"Wow, I wouldn't have guessed that, but it explains the arms."
"You mean the guy magnets?," he smirked, flexing a bicep.
She chuckled, "You don't really use that line do you?"
"Haha, no, I'm not that kind of guy. I like to look nice for myself, but I prefer someone with a brain. The only guys that would attract are jerks."
"Tell me about it. Brains, huh? What major are you?"
"Economics, junior, you?"
"Wow, really? Same here, junior. Watch out for Mr. Brannigan, I took his class last year and he's a hard ass. Not the good kind."
"I know! I just started his class!"
Talking to him was starting to cheer her up. Chatting up a hot guy, even a gay one, was better than the alternative. Maybe this evening wouldn't be a total waste...
****************************************************
It was about three hours later and they hadn't moved an inch. Talking the whole time even though all but a couple of people had left.
Sara looked around at the empty room, "Oh my god, have we been talking the whole night?"
"Haha, it looks like it."
"Well, you know, despite everything, I actually had fun tonight. Thanks to you."
"Thanks, I had a good time, too. It really beats sitting here watching my frat brothers fail at picking up women."
"Right? Well, I guess I should head back since it's getting late, but here, let me give you my number. You can text me if you have trouble with Mr. Brannigan. Or if you just want to talk again."
"Wow, thanks. I'll probably take you up on that. Oh my god, I totally forgot to ask your name," he said while passing her his phone.
"Haha, it's Sara," she laughed, typing her info in.
"Well, nice to meet you Sara. I'm Marc. I'll text you later. Make sure to stay safe on your way home," he said, showing that gorgeous smile that seemed to make her knees weak repeatedly through the night.
"Thanks Marc, looking forward to it. Hope you have a good night."
She returned his phone, her hand lingering on his more than she intended. She blushed slightly and left quickly before he could see.
"Goodnight..." She was out the door before he could get the word out. Must have an early class, he thought to himself.
On the way back to her soroity, Sara mind was occupied by the encounter she'd just had. Her thoughts were filled about how she was obviously crushing on this gay guy. It had been a struggle the whole night to fight the feeling coming over her.
She knew she didn't have a chance with him, but for some reason the thought of being with him stuck in her mind as she got home and slipped into bed. Logically, she knew she had to get over it. They were only going to be friends no matter how attracted she was to him. Thinking a good night's sleep would help, she put the thought in the back of her mind. She had drank a lot tonight and she'd probably think more clearly in the morning. It took all she had to force herself to sleep instead of giving into her hand which had been lingering near her crotch that was growing warm beneath her covers.
She woke with a start in the morning, waking suddenly from a dream. She'd dreamed of Marc. And a sex dream at that. She never had sex dreams. Slowly she began to remember. He had been licking her pussy, something most guys she'd been with were terrible at. After fingering her expertly with two fingers for a time, he had dove in and lapped at her juicy cunt, taking his time going from one delicious fold to the next, slowly savoring the sweet taste before finally reaching her clit. It was agonizingly slow and as he took it in his mouth all the pleasure that had built up erupted. She had saw flashing lights and a white hot feeling, that's when she woke in a sweat. Reflexively she reached down to what had been filled with so much pleasure moments ago. It was wet. Positively dripping actually. Had she actually come? And from a dream about a gay guy? And where did a gay guy learn to please a woman like that anyway?
After calming down, the thought in her mind only strengthened. How come it was that she'd finally met a great, genuine guy that was smart and handsome, but sadly, gay. It didn't make sense. Guys that looked like him weren't gay. And had he really not felt that same spark of attraction last night? If he even felt a fraction of what she was feeling, he'd understand. Well, being stubborn like she was, she decided not to give up.
Looking over at the clock, she saw her phone was lit up with one unknown text. It was from Marc:
"Hey, it's Marc. Texting you so you'd have my number. Thanks again for saving my night. Look forward to talking more. <3"
She smiled. She now knew she was doing the right thing by not giving up. She wasn't going to let this sweet, handsome man get away, even if he was gay. Plans started formulating in her mind. All it would take was the perfect moment to strike. She must sound crazy, but she was setting out to turn a gay guy straight. Besides, if he was that good in her dreams, imagine what it'd be like in real life.
...
It had been about a couple weeks since the mixer and while they hadn't seen each other in person, they had been texting back and forth constantly. Several nights they had stayed up late texting. Even called a few times just to complain about their school and work. Sara was amazed at how much they had in common, though. Movies, music, books, it seemed they all liked the same things. He'd seen that one foreign film with subtitles she liked that none of her friends would watch with her and talk about. And they opened up to each other about deeply emotional things, too. He had told her about how he was from a rural town in Kansas. How his father drilled the importance of being a real, strong man into him by grooming him to like sports, weight lifting, trucks, and even took him hunting, while snuffing out his interests in art and music at an early age. How he had to hide his sexuality from his conservative family for fear of getting disowned, even going so far as telling them he was too busy to even think about dating when they asked about girls. They'd been getting along so well and connected so perfectly you would have thought they'd been friends for years.
All the more reason not to give up, she thought, looking in the mirror. She'd been paying extra attention to how she looked lately. Never wanting to run into him not looking her best, she had even been exercising more, hell, she'd even been shaving her pussy all the way clean which took so much damn time. She took a few minutes to admire herself in the mirror before she left. What man could ignore this body? Her lithe, tight body had never looked better. Her hips and ass curved in just the right places, her perky C cup breasts, perfectly round, flawless with pretty pink nipples, all crowned by her gorgeous face and sultry brown hair that she usually kept up in a pony tail. Not an imperfection to be found. She turned heads wherever she went, making all the boys drool. She was even the envy of almost all the girls, so she should be able to at least get a second look from a queer, she mused.
All this extra prep was making her late for class again. She rushed out of her sorority house and made her way to the economics building. On the way there she had to pass through the quad to save a few minutes and maybe make her class on time. Rushing as fast as she could, she payed little attention to what was going on around her. Then she saw him. It was Marc. This wasn't her usual route, so she hadn't seen him in person these past two weeks. He was playing disc golf with what looked to be some of his frat brothers. And they were shirtless. It had been an especially hot summer, so it wasn't really a surprise, but she stopped in her tracks anyway. His taut, tan body seemed to glisten in the sun. Even though they were all shirtless and dripping in sweat, he stood out among them. He obviously had the best body out of all his frat brothers. Those straining biceps, full pecs with a fine coating of hair, rippling eight pack abs, all on a pair of strong, sturdy legs. He was absolute perfection in her eyes, the perfect example of masculinity. Thinking about how he put all her exes to shame and wondering what was hiding under those basketball shorts lit a fire in her. Lost in a lusty daze she was startled when the bell rang. Shit, not again. She ran towards the building in a hurry, not noticing that under her skirt, a damp patch was forming on her new white thong.
***********************
Marc had been in the library for two hours already. He was a pretty smart guy, but for some reason he couldn't wrap his mind around the way Mr. Brannigan taught. So unfortunately, most of his free time had been spent in the library lately. He liked a challenge as much as the next guy, but this was getting ridiculous having his nose this deep in a book on a Friday night.
"This seat taken?" came a voice beside him.
Marc raised his head from his book and was taken by surprise. It was Sara, but somehow she looked different, better somehow. He almost didn't recognize her form the mixer. Maybe she changed her hair...
