"Keep your eyes up, freshman!" That's what my life has come down to, hasn't it? Just being another freshman in a sea of frightened, twiggy underclassmen. Terrific: flippin' fantastic. When had my entire life been determined by what year of college I'm in?
The minute I joined fencing is what did it.
I slip the mask from my sweaty, matted head. I just let my opponent score a point off me, so naturally Captain is going to be on my case. This maybe only a practice, but with a tournament, he's going to be a nightmare in knee highs. Fuckin' psycho...
But damn does he know how to turn me on!
Jamie is the definition of the knight in shining armor in the fencing world; sharp sky blue eyes, naturally dark skin (considering he's half Irish... seems pretty impressive to me), cropped dark hair that flares at the edges; at least 5'10 with broad shoulders and muscular arms. When he holds his blade, he makes opponents tremble. That's why in his sophomore year, he is undefeated and unmatched as the Captain of our State school's fencing team.
And I also hear he is a fantastic fuck.
I admit I'm not perfect; I'm not petit or bizarrely shaped like other girls (or at least the girls in these kinds of stories). I have a curvy figure, about 5'6" with long-athletic legs and a slight tan from the summer. I have long hair that curls on its own and soft grey eyes. My most outstanding feature? My 40D tits. Not freakishly huge, not modestly small; a real handful of pillowy flesh that made all my boyfriends in the past drool.
But I wasn't thinking of them now, was I? I have my eyes set on that sexy, son-of-a-bitch. God, how I wanted him! And sometimes I feel he wants me too; like when his eyes would linger on my legs when I wore short-shorts to practice: or when he grabs my shoulders and leans in close to help me with my stance and grip. God, his breath and cologne make me shiver... There had to be a way to get him as mine!
Great, now practice is over! I pick up my towel and zip open my jacket. My friends in club make fun of me because I always seem to have barely any clothes on. I have tiny blue shorts and an almost sheer white tee shirt with a graphic design of the Singapore Merlion. My nipples seemed a little harder than normal and were trying to "come out and play" for everyone. Depressing, isn't it? I go to the closet to hang the jacket up with all the others, just as everyone else was saying good night and heading out to dinner, Christ do college kids eat a lot...
I almost got it on the hook, tiptoeing up to reach the rack that is inches above my hand. All of a sudden, a hand covers mine and helps me guide it upwards and sets it on my rack for me. My head turns abruptly and my eyes match the ones I've been longing for: Jamie is holding my hand... In a tiny closet... Alone... Holy crap this is too perfect! Almost bizarrely perfect... God his eyes are so heated-looking right now... "Jules, I heard your roommate kicked you out for the night."
Not like that isn't true: her boyfriend is up for the weekend and she is in desperate need of some "alone time." The tragic news is I have no place to crash. I lick my thin pink lips as he boors me with his gorgeous eyes. "Yeah... Kinda sucky for me, huh?"