This is the sequel to "Redhead Pressed Against a Window" (by request). I suggest you read it, but you don't have to.
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A new year in university -- back to residence. Since I was a third year now, I got an actual choice in where I could live. I chose the same room as last year... after all, it had all sorts of pleasant memories for me.
My friend Sharla had wanted me to move out into an apartment with her, but I turned her down. An apartment didn't have the same... sexual opportunities as a dorm room. And after last year's finale, I was hoping to have more.
Things were a little different, though -- I finally had a boyfriend. Tim and I had met this summer at a mutual friend's party and had hit it off right away. One thing that we had in common was an open sexual policy and a belief in freedom -- as well as a love of nachos and English beers. We both shared some sexual fantasies and made sure we helped each other. Tim was nice enough to fuck me in public places and I allowed him to spank me before fucking me wildly. It worked well for both of us. Tim and I were both okay with cheating as long as we got to share the stories afterwards. Since he was now three hours away at his school, I was doubly glad of our "open door policy." Not only that, I had already received an e-mail of a reunion at his fraternity that included a sexual tale that made me triple click my own mouse. I knew Eric, my fling last year, had finished school, so I had to find someone else if I wanted to indulge this year. I decided I would just stay ready and take any opportunity I saw. I've always been lucky -- one came around the next day.
I was working out at the gym on campus while reading a Cosmo when I saw a cute guy start working out on the bike next to me. I kept flipping through my magazine, including an article on modern Kama Sutra. As I was examining a pose and wondering if my wrists could hold out that long, he coughed politely. I looked briefly at the time (I still had ten minutes) and then looked at him. As I said, he was cute. Six foot, brown hair, decent build. He also had a great smile. Not bad at all. As I was contemplating doing the Crane's Dance with him (#4 in the Cosmo -- if my wrists could hold out), he said a word that confused me. I repeated it, looking flummoxed.
"Blackmail? Excuse me?" I took a swig of my water.
"I'd like to blackmail you," he said, still smiling.
"Blackmail me about what?" I asked, still wondering if this was some convoluted pick-up line.
"You're Andi Miller? Room 604 Thompson Hall?" Okay, this was getting creepy. And his smile wasn't half as charming as it had been.
"I know all of that," I said, with a chilly smile of my own. He tried to pass me an envelope, but my Cosmo was in the way.
"Hold this," I sighed, leaving the page where it was. As I opened the envelope, I noticed his eyes were drawn to the Crane -- maybe he knows a girl with wrists like Schwarzenagger.
Pictures. I looked around quickly -- Mr. Blackmail was the only person nearby. Pictures of... me. Pressed against a window naked, being fucked. Actually, they were quite nice. My lipstick looked a really sexy red and my tits looked amazing. There were even scenes of me stripping. I noticed him looking at me and I decided to play his game. I gasped dramatically.
"Where did you get these?" I asked, sounding horrified, while taking another glance at how good my thigh-highs looked. I was pretty sure he had taken them from the residence right across the road, but every woman I had heard on television in a situation like this asked that question.
"The better question is, what am I going to do with them?" he said, trying to sound tough.
"What are you going to do with them?" I asked, following along.
"How would your boyfriend like to see these?" he shot out.
Tim? I thought. Tim would love these. Obviously the man hadn't done his homework.
"You're going to show them to Tim? Please no! I don't have any money, though. What do you want?" I was getting a little tired of my hysterical woman role and wanted him to cut to the chase. Hopefully it involved him and me and a tub of chocolate sauce, since I was pretty sure he was my watcher from last year.
"This isn't about money... I know you're a slut..." he waited for my reaction. I gasped accordingly (while thinking "and...?").
"I want you to meet me at my fraternity house tonight at seven. Here's my address. I'll tell you more when you get there." Guess he didn't live across the road anymore. And with such cheesy dialogue, it was a good thing he was cute. Any second now, he was going to tell me to "come alone."
"Come alone -- just you. Here's an outfit -- wear it under a coat and I'll explain there."
He passed me a bag and walked out of the gym with an aura of menace -- well, I think he was trying for menace, but he tripped on someone's towel, so it came out a little dennis-the-menace. Still, a nice ass.
I looked in the bag and smiled. There was only one thing I didn't like about the conversation that that had taken place -- he had taken my Cosmo.
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