There she was, as fresh as a spring morning, as ripe as a juicy apple and as hot as an afternoon in the sauna. Sitting in the cafeteria of the gym, in a just a little bit too tight summer dress that strained the front button row around her chest in the most hypnotic way, I knew that there was no turning back. I had to have her, or at least die trying.
Charlotte, a named that had echoed between my ears and between my legs for four months, three days, forty seven minutes and twelve seconds. Ever since I first lay my eyes on her, I had wanted her. Not her heart and soul, although I'll have to admit that I was more than a little infatuated by her lovely personality too. But what haunted my mind were other burning questions. How would her lips feel against mine? How does her nipples look under that dress? Does she scream when she cum?
Of course, I could say that she looked like a fashion model, and most of you would get the picture. But the truth is, a runway model today looks like shit. They are skinny boys with tits. Small tits too. No, Charlotte was a goddess, a nubile, curvy wet dream of the good old beauty ideals. Think classic, think Marilyn Monroe, Birgitte Bardot, anyone from that era, or older, Greta Garbo even. All of that, but without the air of unreachable glamour diva that they possessed. Charlotte Stetson had the kind of pulse-racing beauty of someone who didn't know, or didn't care, that wherever she went, every man and half of the women that saw her dreamed about having their way with her.
I wanted to have my way with her too, I dreamed every night of taking possession of that golden tanned skin, rip the clothes of her and explore every square inch of her voluptuous body. And in that sudden, lust drunk moment when I saw her sitting there, waiting for me, I made up my mind. I just couldn't go on like we had those last months, pretending like she didn't drive me up the walls with pent up lust every damn night and day of the week. I'd find a way, at least to find out. So maybe it would cost us our friendship, but then I wouldn't be in this weird-ass Limbo anymore.
Ok, maybe I should tell you a little about myself too? Time for a little re-wind then.
The name is Nina, I'm a 20 year old student at the UC, majoring in Tech, but I'm not at all the geek girl that you might think. Although I don't claim to be of supermodel status, I do turn a few heads of my own. Anyway, I came here form up north, with my then boyfriend, two years ago, to study and have a life on our own, in sunny, sexy LA none the less. But there is one thing that you got to know about this city. Unless you want to live in a gang infested, downright dangerous neighborhood, Los Angeles is expensive. I have a steady but small stream of cash from my family, and a small scholarship that pays for a lot, but not for decent lodging. So Brian and I decided to team up and rent a small two room apartment. We both had after hours jobs to pay for the place, and it was quite a bus ride from school. But it was ours and it was private.
And then, the inevitable happened. Brian, and that pretty rich Sandra bitch, that's what happened. Yeah sure, they were only going to do a lab report together. Yeah sure, they were naked because our AC was acting up. Yeah sure, she tripped and landed on his cock. Well, that was it, exit Sandra, exit Brian, and I had the whole apartment to myself.
Which also meant that I had the whole rent to pay, something I had no chance in hell to manage. It was either finding a cheaper place, a dorm even, or start looking for a roommate. I decided on the latter.
Said and done, a few posts on a student web board, and I had more interested tenants than I could ever ask for. Unfortunately, I forgot to mention that I wasn't interested in male applicants, so I could easily cut away two thirds of the maybe 50 emails I'd gotten. After making a few calls, I had screened out the party animals and total bitches, and had narrowed it down to five names. The first name read Charlotte Stetson, so I called her up and asked when she could come over and have a look at the place. Her reply was "How about right now?", and I had no objections to that. She had a car, and twenty minutes later, I heard her knock on my door.
What met me when I opened it is a sight I will never forget. A raving beauty like you only see in the movies. Long, flowing golden hair, a perfect, pearly white smile and full red lips to kill for. And those almost glowing bright green eyes. She wore plain jeans and a sweater, but I could see her breasts pushing out in front of her, and the fabric hugging her forms in the same way I wished I was. I did my best to keep my breathing intact, and opened my mouth, hoping that something coherent would come out.
"Hello, you most be Charlotte," I said.
Well, fucking duh! Ok, at least it sounded normal.
"'fraid so," she answered with a knee weakening smile. "And you're Nina?"
"Yep. Come on in. I'll give you the grand tour, and then we can have a little talk."
She liked the place immediately, and started asking if she should bring any furniture, about room for books, and such things, so it was apparent that she was interested in the place. She was really easy to talk to, and we instantly got along very well, so I had no argument. To make a long story short, I decided to skip the other viewings and make Charlotte my new roomie. All that was left was moving in.
"Oh, and one more thing." I said, while she scanned the yellow pages in search of the number to someone who could help her with her bed and some other stuff. "Just so you know, I'm bi."
"Huh?" she said and pried her eyes away from the phonebook.
"Bi. Bisexual," I explained.
"Oh, I know what that means. I'm just surprised you brought that up. Who cares?"
"I didn't want you to find out at a later point and freak out, that's all."
"Nono, I'm cool with that." she said and returned to the matters at hand. "I'll just make a mental note about not running around naked in here."
"Bummer."
That made her laugh, and I knew that I was going to like her. I already did.
Well, that was almost half a year ago, at the end of the last semester. Now summer crept closer, as well as my filthy fantasies about the sweet girl. As every Thursday night, she had come by to pick me up from the local gym, where I worked as a beginner's instructor. But she didn't look like her sparkling self this evening.
"Hey, C," I said, as I walked up to her. "What's the matter?"
"Oh nothing," she replied with a sigh. "just bored, I guess. I miss Denny."
Denny was the on and off flirt. A nice guy, but nothing really serious went on between them anyway. Charlotte had decided to call it quits and officially break up with him two months earlier.
