It's been a recent fixation, this desire to be with another woman. I'm 24, slightly older than your average college student. I made the decision to go back after I found how tough it was to get a job without that piece of paper.
So now, here I am, going for my bachelor's in psychology.
And I'm surrounded by beautiful, intelligent, *sexy* women.
I'm not a gold star. I've dated a few men, lost my virginity when I was 19 to a guy I met at work. It was pleasant. I can't say I've got a burning desire to repeat the experience.
But...women. Lately, since I've been here, it's all I think about. And I've been wanting to feel it for myself. To open another women's flesh. Part her legs with my knees and thrust inside her. Turn the tables. It wasn't penis envy, so much. I didn't really need that inconvenient member, springing up at odd times, disturbing my sleep, tagging along for the ride. But I wanted to fuck a woman. Slowly, achingly, teasingly. Rub against her clit, make slow circles with my cock, trail my way up and down her warmth, drive her crazy. Even, perhaps, be sucked off by her, have her tongue rub up and down the length of me, until I came in her mouth.
Distracting thoughts. Especially when I'm sitting in the library computer lab, late at night, working on a paper. Looking at the gorgeous woman at the computer next to me. I saw her in here often at this hour, and we'd exchanged hellos a few times. Blonde curly hair to her shoulders, green eyes hidden behind wire rim frames. Small breasts, a voluptuous ass and curvy hips. Not much makeup, just a little lip gloss, but deliciously feminine. A teasing smile that flashed now and then when she read something on screen that pleased or amused her.
Enough of that. I sighed and went back to my paper.
"Excuse me." Her voice was soft, tinged with just a little bit of Mississippi accent.
"Hmmm?" I looked up, and she was hovering over my shoulder inquisitively. I felt her breasts press lightly into my back, and I jolted slightly as I felt their unconfined sway, and surprisingly, the points of her nipples. She was aroused. Or cold. Her breath tickled my neck.
"I was wondering--I've seen you pull journal articles from the library's website. I'm having a little trouble finding this citation. Think you could help me?"
I turned slightly, and she was leaning over my desk, her lips inches from mine. "Sure." I murmured. My mouth felt dry, my palms sweaty and hot. "What's the journal?"
As I began to search the database, she watched over my shoulder, making suggestions as we looked. She reached over me to get a pen and paper, and again I felt the weight of her breasts. If I hadn't thought better of it, i would have guessed it was deliberate.
Deliberate or not, it was making my crazy. I looked furtively around the mostly empty lab. No one was watching. What if I just...
"Hey." She put a hand on my arm.
I turned and stared at her. "Kiss me." I thought. "Tell me you want to get out of here and find someplace to go."
"Thanks for the help. Want to go get a beer?" She smiled. I nodded, foundering. Anywhere. Anywhere where these fluourescent lights would stop flickering and we could sit and talk, and I could feel her leg bumping mine under the table and I could fantasize about what would happen when we left the smoky, crowded bar.