Mira's Thing Part 1
"I knew moving further north would mean brutal winters. I didn't think the brutal part would mean me slipping on the ice in front of a pretty girl," I say. The girl who had swiped me into our dorm building smiled at me. She's short, latina and something else, brown wavy hair, and has hips hips hips. She lives a floor below mine which I only know because she's fucking gorgeous, and maybe gets more of my attention in passing throughout the school year than an average stranger would.
"That was almost a good save." She says, still smiling, "Are you good?"
"Yeah, I'll be fine, I should probably sit down right over here." I gesture to the benches just inside the door, hiding my grimace of embarrassment. I step over to them. Ordinarily I would try to chat up this girl, but given the pain in my ankle, this feels like not my best chance at making a good impression. "You're a queen for letting me in, I don't think I had my key-card so--..." When I sit down I realize she's followed me over the bench. She sits very close next to me. I trail off. "Hi."
"Hi." She smiles, this time with sympathy.
"Uhhm, what are you..."
"I'm making sure you're okay. The elevator's under maintenance, and you have some stairs to climb... if that's okay with you." She trails off, looking me in the eyes for confirmation. I'm flattered she's paid enough attention to know I'm on the fourth floor.
"Yeah, sure, I mean, that's great you're welcome. Uhm, so what are you studying?"
Mira and I talk for maybe half an hour. Mira K, she calls herself. With how flirtatious she's being, I feel a little weird having this conversation in the entryway of the dorm, seeing familiar faces walking in and out, but ultimately my mind can't focus on that. She's studying to be a computer science major and has a lovely smile. It's rueful, mischievous even. She's originally from upstate New York, where she played soccer and learned to put her hand on my thigh whenever she laughs. We follow each other on instagram. She's super easy to talk to. I find it difficult to keep my eyes on her face. She's perky, and clearly not wearing a bra, and the flirting is very deliberate. That's all I'll say.
"Do you think you're ready to try the stairs?" The university shirt she's wearing under her unzipped snow jacket is dark maroon, but I keep my eyes focused on her face.
"I think so, my ankle is feeling sort of numb. I think getting somewhere warmer would be nice." I stand, reaching into my jean pocket to pull my erection into my waistband so it doesn't stick out as I straighten up.
"Here, put an arm around me," she says, pulling my gloved hand over her hooded shoulders. She accidentally pulls the glove off my hand.
"Ah, sorry." She's looking right at me, I can see her big eyes next to me, but I can't look or our noses will touch.
"Don't worry about it, they're oversized anyway."
We start up the stairs. Jackets swishing together, I'm acutely aware of my dick throbbing in my pant leg. Everytime we turn in the stairwell, I swear it pokes her hip. I don't even notice my ankle.
"Here's your glove back," she says at the top of the stairs, stuffing the hand with her glove into my pants pocket. I open my mouth to stop her, but it's too late. With her hand barely inside my pants pocket, she stops our walking, forcing me to turn towards her. Her hand is cold against my dick. Our faces are very close together, but before either of us can say anything, the door right in front of us swings open, and five to six people file out past us down the stairs. We don't break eye contact for a second, although in my peripheral vision I recognize a few of my floor mates and their friends. They're pointedly ignoring us. Her hand wriggles in my pocket to feel the head of my dick. I don't dare to breathe, but I close my mouth. She's staring at me with a face I can't read.
Without saying a word, she untangles herself from me to take me by both shoulders, straightening out our bodies. Then she rams her knee into my groin.
"Uhh, Fuck." My stomach immediately feels like it's on fire. "Hey, I'm sorry," I whisper, bent into her nylon shoulder of curly hair. She leans back, and walks me against the wall, still leaning into me so all I can see is her mess of hair, she pushes her knee between my legs, and then knees me in the balls again.
"Uhh, Mira... I wasn't trying to be weird, you just reached in there I wasn't going to come on to you or anything." She lifts my head out of her shoulder and slaps me on both cheeks before responding. I'm relieved to see her smiling.
"If you don't want to tell anyone I grabbed your dick and then kicked you in the balls without asking, I'm fine with that." She grins up at me. I'm flustered. Then she turns and opens the door, and I follow her out of the stairwell, still stunned.
"You kicked me twice actually," I say to her nice butt as I follow her down my hall. She laughs and turns to me as I catch up, limping slightly. "It looks like I fixed your ankle though, it could be worse."
"Oh, yeah, thanks. Actually it was your magical presence that fixed my ankle, that nut tap is the only reason I'm limping right now." She laughs, turning to walk next to me.
"If it hurt so bad you wouldn't have been staring at my ass just now."
"I'm sorry."
"I'm flirting with you dumbass. Which of these rooms is yours?"
"442, I'm around the corner. You can come inside if you want. I can make hot chocolate or something." She rolls her eyes, making me squirm inside.
