Author's Note: This is a shorter story than many of those I've shared, somewhere between a mix of plot and sexual content. It's not a sudden, sexy read but there's a faster progression with characters leading to intimacy. Of course, same thing as usual, please bear in mind that this is adult content so don't read this if you're not of legal age. Enjoy!
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Chapter I
Drenched in sweat, I wake in a mass of sheets with the cotton fabric stuck to my back, heavy with sweat. The dreams are gone now and once again I don't really remember them. This is the seventh night I've woken in heavy darkness, a racing heartbeat the remnants of what must have been a powerful dream. I shudder, the coolness of the air in my room settling over me as I untangle myself from the sheets to sit up. I crawl across the bed to get my phone from the bedside table. The time reads five fifty seven, with only three minutes until the morning alarm on my smartphone is set to go off. I scramble to turn off the alarm before it sounds out, stagger up and proceed to get ready for the rest of the day.
As the effects of my morning coffee begin to stir me into action, I follow through with the process of my daily fitness routine. After I've completed pushups, pull ups and a run on the treadmill for twenty minutes I'm satisfied that I've done enough for a Monday morning. After showering I get ready to leave the house, the cool fall air refreshing against my face.
Now's probably a good time to talk a little about who I am. I'm Jess Blaine, a twenty two year old studying social work in college. I'm tall, a couple of inches away from being six foot, lanky to the point where working out is a necessity to build muscle to give the impression that I'm not a twig. I'm kind of a huge lesbian when it comes to appearance. It's pretty obvious I'm queer, with my dark hair trimmed extremely short around the back and sides and slightly longer on top. It's the stereotyped lesbian look which speaks for me, as opposed to me having to open my mouth and say it. It's not quite a punk rock look, not quite the stereotyped classic conservative men's hairstyle either.
I also happen to comfortably wear clothes designed and sold with men in mind. Generally, because I'm so slim I try to seek fitted items of clothing, since I have a vastly different body than what men's clothing is designed for. I'm no fan of wearing tent-like outfits, but that's just me. Anyway, enough of how I look, there's more to all of us than appearance.
It took me three years after finishing high school and working in several different fields (most of which weren't that great) to decide what I wanted to make a career out of. The idea of being a social worker or a counsellor of some kind seemed like a good idea since I imagined that helping people would be a worthwhile career choice. And so here I was in my first year of study, already realizing that I was in it for the long haul and I had better do the best I could, so that a Masters in social work would be an option.
I suppose you could say I'm not really someone who knows what path to follow until I spend a lot of time thinking about what choices are available. I'm not indecisive, just willing to keep my opportunities open in life-it's hard to cut out options when you see so many possibilities. I'm not a quiet person, in fact, I'm pretty outgoing, energetic even. But, when it comes to a lot of things in life, I find it hard to be objective and plan ahead with concrete ideas-I'm always thinking about 'what if?'
I drive to university, not particularly keen for the day ahead, with the week about to grind into a start. I grit my teeth and bare it as I arrive at the campus, thankful that I'm able to find a park before piles of cars invade the car parks. I double check to make sure my parking permit is visible on the front dash, grab my bag and shut the door, looking around at the car park.
I lock my car and slip the remote into my jacket, turning to head to the library for some study before my first lecture of the day. Looking up, I notice a woman walking across the car park, through isles of cars a few metres ahead of me. She's slim, not particularly tall, but small and light on her feet as she moves. She wears a dark jacket and as she moves between a gap of cars, I see she's wearing dark jeans and shoes. I don't really know what makes me notice her, as all I can see is the back of her as she walks away from me. All I can determine is a pale shapely neck and short, dark hair shaped into a softer style than mine.
Just as I wonder what her face looks like, she looks over her shoulder, a pair of light blue eyes scanning her surroundings and falling on me for a brief moment. She looks like she's in her early thirties, slightly past the fresh stage of adulthood and closer to the more mature side. Her features reveal nothing directly, in the way of emotions, but perhaps I can see the faintest of smiles rising from the corner of rich, red lips. Then she turns, moving just as swiftly into the grounds. I suck in a slight breath, feeling slightly dizzy. I'm confused at the feeling, but I figure it's probably just the cool air and the heaviness of the laptop in my bag, or something along those lines. The woman disappears into the main campus building ahead of me as I continue on my way to the library, a nearby, albeit separate building.
In the library I get to work with finding some source material for a current essay. After fifteen minutes I'm deeply engrossed in reading through a chapter for some content worthy of using within my essay when I notice muffled footsteps nearby. Thinking nothing of it, I begin slip the book back into place in the isle when I freeze, noticing a pair of blue eyes directly in front of me. I feel my own widen in surprise, as I almost drop the book, the cover opening with pages springing outwards. I fumble and make sure I haven't creased any pages, and by the time I look up again, it seems that in that moment the eyes have gone.
I slip the book back in its place, hands suddenly clammy, heart racing with awkwardness. I take a deep breath and wander to the end of the walkway, but when I take a look down the aisle where someone had been, all I see is a deserted space. I scratch a sudden, eerie tingle at the back of my neck, scanning the rows of books before me. There's not a sound to be heard and not a single person to be seen. I sigh and glance at my watch, before hurrying to my lecture, not wanting to be late. During the lecture I'm restless, not entirely sure why, although I have my suspicion that I know why I'm uncomfortable.
That night I dream of bright blue eyes and red lips and when I wake with the memory of the dreams, I'm not drenched in sweat with fear. Instead, I wake with a nervous tremor in my hands and the dull throbbing of desire roaring through me. I blink away the visions, but the feeling's still there as I recall the woman I saw the day before. Slim, graceful and fleeting, like an apparition borne from imagination. I lie there, very still, in the middle of my bed, reliving the moment I saw her in my mind's eye. With my eyes shut, I give myself over to the feelings of lust circling through me, letting my self-restraint slip away.
My fingers trail along my skin, through the singlet I wear, down and along my abdomen, until they find the band of my underwear. Slipping down and into the fabric, I explore the wetness, surprised by the sheer amount of it dripping out of my pussy. The dream really got me going, it seems. My fingertips are drenched before they enter me, and as I push two fingers of one hand up and along my depths, I groan, air hissing through my teeth. Instantly my fingers are coated in slick juice.
My hips jolt as I brush gently past my sweet spots, my ass rising slightly off the bed, as I begin to slide my fingers along my walls. With my breaths becoming louder and faster as I move quicker and increase the pressure, the feeling of the throbbing amplifies with every moment. Perspiration forms across my body as I moan louder still, my hips trembling as I continue to push and swirl my fingers faster still, as my groans become whimpers. The climax is sudden, halting my breath and rushing past my eager fingers, which slow to a gentler pace as I gasp for air. I lie there for a moment, before deciding it would be a good idea to change the sheets.
I spent the day attending lectures and planning assignments with fellow students. Near the end of the day, I feel an odd pull to go to the library, just to check for another couple of books for the essay I've almost finished. I arrived not long before library closing time, but I knew I wouldn't be hanging around long, since I knew exactly where to look for books in the topic. I head to the isle where I figured there'd be the most books and proceed to check the spines of various titles. I'm fairly engrossed, but I turn to see the very same woman from the day before, approaching to place several books on the shelving several steps away.
I try to function as my concentration slips away from me. She's definitely real, I realize, taking in her graceful movements thanks to my peripheral vision. I force myself to look down at the book in my hands, feeling the sweat prickling my skin along my back. Cut it out, a voice in my head tells me, as I feel my pussy beginning to throb slowly. I'm never really this self-conscious around women and it aggravates me to no end that I'm suddenly unable to control my body's reactions. My mouth's run dry with nerves, which is an odd contrast to the wetness threatening to ooze out of me elsewhere.
She kneels down and shamefully, I enjoy the tightening of the denim jeans around her behind, the delicate shapeliness of her figure reeling me in. She finishes sorting the books, before standing. Relieved, I expect she'll be on her way, but I'm surprised when she turns to face me. My eyes move faster than I ever thought they could, as I fight the rushing heat within my cheeks. I swear it, I did not just look at your ass. Cringing a thousand times within myself, I hang in a dubious moment of suspense as I wonder if she's noticed my glance. I regulate my breathing, but damn, it's difficult. How can I control my thoughts and actions at the same time when my body's out of control?
She approaches me and I bring myself to look at her over the book, stupidly smiling slightly, autopilot willing me to be friendly and approachable. It's odd, but of all the times, I wished she wasn't looking directly at me, not with those ice blue eyes as I'm melting into a puddle right before her.
"Hello," a voice of mellow tones says calmly, her lips opening to speak the word.