Chapter One: Friday Night Pahhrty
The night I first met Cynthia, it was truly lust at first sight. Strangers to each other, we'd both been invited to a party thrown by a mutual friend. I'm a Humanities professor at a small university and these gatherings were often held at the Dean's sprawling estate on campus. The main house was so large that the running joke was that it was seven o'clock in the dining room and nine o'clock at the back door... These 'get-togethers' were intended as a way for faculty to blow off a little steam, but usually degraded into something of a one-upmanship contest between the different departments before the night was out. This night was no different. That is, until Cynthia arrived. I remember the night as if it were yesterday.
It was unusually hot, even for August. I was sitting on the expansive deck outside our host's living room, sipping on a gin and tonic and doing my best to catch whatever breezes kicked up....which were few and far between. The inside of the house was quite comfortable, being fully air conditioned, but it was the oppressive boredom that eventually drove me outside. Maybe it was me, but it seemed that everyone I came into contact with had a burning need to discuss quantum physics or Shakespearean literature or some other subject that simply didn't fit into my Friday night mind. Call me on Monday, Einstein, and I'll make your head spin. On Fridays, beginning at sometime around ten o'clock in the morning, I begin to think about the weekend.
Since it was close to ten in the evening, and I had a cocktail or two or three under my belt, my mind was focusing more on comely females than quantum physics. I'd just finished my drink, and made the decision to leave. I turned to walk back inside and say goodnight when I saw Cynthia through the window....
I stopped dead in my tracks and stared like a ten year old with his first Playboy. I felt my mouth getting dry and the sweat that was running down my back was not entirely from the heat. I watched through the full windows as she moved through the room on the arm of our host, smiling and stopping occasionally to chat with another of the guests. In a nutshell, she was stand up and drop dead gorgeous. I decided then and there that if this was my last vision on earth I could die a happy man...
She looked to be in her mid to late twenties, with long, and I mean long-to-her-waist long, hair, as black as a moonless night cascading over her shoulders and almost reaching her magnificent ass. Her thick, shining mane jiggled and flowed each time she'd laugh or toss her head. She was wearing an ivory colored, button front dress that stopped about mid-thigh and hugged her contours like a Porsche does the road. She'd left enough of the buttons on her crisp, cotton blouse undone to expose just a hint of the swells of her breasts. In a word, this girl was HOT! The cocktails had made me much more handsome and debonair than I am normally, and I felt a Friday night kind of stirring inside my pants...
I picked my glass up and slid the door open. I sighed out loud as the refreshing feel of the cool air greeted my damp body. Our eyes met when Cynthia heard my sigh and she turned to look at me. I grinned and bowed my head slightly in her direction, and she answered with a smile of her own, her eyes flickering over me as if she were checking me out. Then, just as quickly, she was gone. Off with our host to meet the other dreary guests I supposed. I would have bet a month's wages that she'd have boredom written all over her face by the time she returned. Definitely not a "quantum discusser" I judged.
I got myself another cocktail at the bar which the host had generously provided, and sat on one of the many couches in the great room, making conversation when I had to, but focusing the majority of my attention on Cynthia as she moved through the masses. I must say, I was very impressed with how she handled herself with all those stuffed shirts. Still, I smiled smugly to myself, just KNOWING that soon she would turn to look for some relief.
(Yep...here I am! Your Friday night dream come true! No quantums here! Nosirreee!! It's Friday, I got a blank mind full of 'duh' and pants full of dick, and I'm all yours!!)
I tend to get a bit smug and self assured when I'm with this crowd, especially after a cocktail or two. This night, I'm afraid, it backfired. Cynthia was perfectly at ease, discussing whatever subject was presented with a smooth grace and an intelligence that was obviously impressing everyone she came into contact with. I decided to have another cocktail and rethink my strategy... For some reason, the ingestion of a few cocktails always makes me think that another cocktail will help the thinking process. I sauntered back to the bar to think...
Half an hour, and two cocktails later I finally got my chance to meet her. She was standing at the bar, ordering a drink, when I walked over and introduced myself with a bit more slurring of my voice than I would have preferred. Cynthia though, responded with a dazzling smile on her lips and a gleam in her eye as she offered me her hand. She sat on a stool and I leaned on the bar next to her as words stumbled out of my mouth like those of a schoolboy on his first date. Rarely am I at a loss for words, especially after a cocktail or two, but I knew that any words relating to her beauty would simply sound like some over-worn cliché, spilling out of my mouth and flopping onto the bar like so much roadkill. And since her beauty was the only thing my subconscious mind wanted to form words around, my conscious brain cleverly opted to mumble and stutter like an idiot.
Cynthia was very gracious, grinning sexily and patiently waiting for me to calm down until my word streams began to assemble themselves into recognizable patterns. As we chatted about all the things I secretly hated, I suddenly found myself talking just like those people that tended to bore the hell out of me. I was enjoying the opportunity to strut my stuff to her, and was pleasantly, although somewhat chauvinistically, surprised by the sheer volume of her knowledge. Cynthia not only kept pace with my conversation but, if truth be told, was really running circles around my own knowledge base. It turned out Cynthia had so many degrees she could start her own heat wave...
It was an odd combination of stimulating conversation and being soundly put in my place, academically speaking. And actually, that was only adding to my own stimulation... For here was a woman who personified every physical fantasy I dreamed about, seemed to have the ability to keep up with my bad drinking habits and, at the same time, had the ability to make my head spin intellectually. I began to think that I could learn a lot from this girl... Of course, I tell myself now, one reason she was able to make my mind stutter and halt was that half of my mind was totally focused on her physical attributes. And that half was the sober half. The drunken half of my mind was already undressing this beauty and laying her back on the bar top! Luckily for me, she couldn't read my mind, though. Or could she...?
As we talked, my eyes focused on her full, red lips. She had a way of smiling and licking them as she talked that was driving me crazy. I could just imagine them sliding wetly over my cock...
We conversed for about fifteen minutes as I nursed my cocktail. The possibility of spending more time with this angel overturned my previous plan to simply get hammered, and I knew I needed to slow down just a bit. I was already painfully aware of how silly I'd recently sounded. I knew that I hadn't dazzled her, but I was catching a glimmer of something in her eyes that I hoped was interest... Cynthia had been drinking white wine before she sat down, but had switched to gin and tonics as we talked. She'd finished two in the short time we'd been chatting, and had just ordered her third when another guest called for her to meet someone new. I held on to the impression that she might be interested in talking again later, and my feelings were confirmed as she walked away to greet the other guest. I was staring at her ass as she walked, when she turned around to face me, catching me in the act.
