Comparative Analysis of Electoral Systems.
Caitlyn read the title of the assignment for the fourth time, tapping her fingers on her desk. The essay was due in a few days, but it was unlikely for Caitlyn to leave things until the last minute. She typed a few words, then deleted them. The list of recommended reference books taunted her.
She needed them, but she hadn't dared to step foot back in the library. It was one thing to be a lesbian, another thing to have a crush on the librarian, but it was an entirely different matter to pursue her. If Caitlyn stood in front of that information desk one more time, she wouldn't be able to control herself.
Additional attempts to craft an opening paragraph proved futile and she considered giving up for the evening. But her eyes were drawn to that little icon in the corner of her screen, the private browser she'd been visiting too frequently. She looked from the blank page to the icon and shook her head as if to dispel her ridiculous inclination.
Focus, Caitlyn.
Even if she didn't work on the paper for the rest of the night, there were surely other things she could do. Other than opening that tab again. Other than spending hours at a time reveling in the range of things women could do together. As she contemplated going for a quiet evening walk, compulsion tapped at the glass of her mind, incessant and frankly, annoying. She just wanted one day where she didn't feel the urge to touch herself.
Today was not that day. The wetness and aching between her legs felt constant, even though her pussy had been rubbed raw from overuse. She berated herself as she opened the browser and logged in. Yes, logged in. Never in a million years would Caitlyn be someone who had an account on a porn site, yet here she was, scrolling through the carefully curated videos in her favorites list.
It would hurt to play with herself, so she decided that she would just watch and bathe in the feelings of arousal. She was partial to the romantic videos, as they felt safer in some way. Simply two people sharing passion with each other. But curiosity swayed her and she chose a video that ventured into rougher territory.
There was little build-up. A forceful tongue kiss was the only foreplay before the blonde pushed the brunette's head into the couch as she fucked her from the back with a strap-on. The woman's moans and cries rattled inside Caitlyn as her face flushed. Her nipples were getting harder, sensitive against her bra. She groped herself roughly, then undid the clasp, pulling her bra off through the bottom of her shirt.
Her eyes reflected the light of the computer as she tracked the women's movements. Lightly, she ran her fingers over her nipples poking out through the soft material. She pulled the fabric back and forth so it teased her breasts and she moaned quietly. In her early, experimental years of masturbation, she discovered that the feeling of a thin shirt against her erect nipples was one of her favorite things. It also meant she could never go out without a bra, lest she be constantly aroused in public.
"Cait?"
Her father's voice came through the door of her bedroom, and Caitlyn hurried to shove her discarded bra behind her bed and cross her arms over her chest before her father entered. God forbid he wait until she answered.
"Hi sweetheart. Writing your paper?"
Caitlyn slammed her laptop shut, thankful that the audio was routed to her headphones. "Uh, just finished actually."
"Your mom and I are going out with the Tollivers tonight and probably won't be back until late. Call if you need anything, okay?"
"Of course. Have a good time."
At the sound of the door closing, Caitlyn dropped her face in her hands, feeling the heat on her cheeks. The near-disaster of almost being caught fondling herself should've been enough to turn her off. Instead, an excited shiver traveled down her spine and she pressed her thighs together, squirming. Fuck.
Two hours passed, and Caitlyn tortured herself deep into the evening. Video after video of blissed-out faces and thrashing bodies had her playing with her bare nipples and shaking with multiple mini-orgasms. Finally, her laptop shut down, and Caitlyn was confronted with the fantasy she'd been trying to avoid. The fantasy of her.
But the teasing and partial pleasure was driving Caitlyn insane. She stripped off the rest of her clothes and spread her legs on the bed, finally touching herself despite the tenderness. With her parents out, she let herself speak as she imagined those warm, soft lips trailing down her neck.
"Miss Georgia, take me. Put your tongue in my mouth. Fuck, please let me kiss you all over, every inch of you. I want to take off my clothes for you, Miss Georgia."
She barely recognized her own voice, thick with lust. Deep in the scene behind her eyes, Caitlyn's excitement built up as she imagined Miss Georgia's long, slim fingers caressing her tits, trailing down her stomach, settling on her protruding clit. Caitlyn's own fingers worked twice as hard despite the twinges of pain.
"Fuck, you're making me feel so good. I'm so goddamn horny all the time and I can't get enough, you make me so fucking crazy. Please Miss Georgia, I need you inside me."
Inching closer to the edge, she was taken back to the cafe, taken back to the moment right after Caitlyn choked out her thanks.
Good girl.
The rush of these words set Caitlyn off and she pummeled her fingers into her flooded cunt relentlessly, bringing her ever nearer to climax. She began to babble.
"I'm your good girl, Miss Georgia, I'll be so good for you. Ohh dammit, fuck! Christ, I'm so close, please watch me cum, please, please, oohhh fuck, shit, fuck, I'm gonna cum, gonna - Uh! I'm cumming for you, Miss Georgia!"
Caitlyn's mind broke. Pleasure moved through her in a heavy surge as her orgasmic fluids gushed onto the bedsheets. Skin burning, muscles convulsing, she writhed in delirious rapture and moaned with abandon. All that existed was want, was need, was Miss Georgia.
Then the room went black.
Caitlyn woke up some time later, dizzy and lightheaded. Her body still tingled with delightful sensitivity as she laid there, running her hands down herself. In her hazy, post-sex state, all anxieties and reservations were muted and before she could stop herself, she typed out a message into her phone:
I think I need you, Miss Georgia.
* * *
The only circumstance she could reason was that some malicious spirit had possessed her to follow through to this point, which admittedly wasn't very rational. In actuality, Caitlyn was on a primitive kind of autopilot, an instinct she couldn't help but follow. But she couldn't (with sober mind) admit that to herself.
She stood in front of the walkway of Miss Georgia's home, shivering from nerves. Her parents had been informed that Caitlyn was spending the evening at Molly's house. In turn, Caitlyn told Molly she was going out to hook up with Reed. It was a wildly lousy excuse that Molly almost didn't buy, but Caitlyn sold it as much as she could, (which wasn't very much, considering the new things she had recently discovered about herself). Caitlyn heard the sound of her own boots and noticed she was moving toward the house.
What the hell am I doing? I'm out of my mind. Turn around, walk away. Turn around, walk away.
Turn around, walk away.
"Hello darling," Miss Georgia gave a shining smile as she opened the door.
Caitlyn, a step lower, was eye-level with the deep blue satin that covered her breasts. Disoriented, Caitlyn only saw Miss Georgia's face for a second until her eyes dropped to those full, heavy tits agin. She froze in embarrassment and looked back up at her.
Miss Georgia laughed and shook her head as if responding to the antics of a playful child. She slipped her hand into Caitlyn's and led her inside.
Caitlyn felt fragile, like she was about to pass out.
The older woman led her to a red Victorian settee. "Sit, Caitlyn."
So Caitlyn sat just like last time, thoughtlessly obedient. As Miss Georgia walked toward the minibar, she tried to breathe deep and evenly as she took in her surroundings. The house was surprisingly gothic and unsurprisingly dimly lit. The furniture was needlessly ornate and Caitlyn imagined there was probably a taxidermy mount somewhere in the house. Though it was just an excuse in the cafe, Miss Georgia's sense of style in all ways was truly admirable.
She didn't ask if Caitlyn wanted a drink, just handed her a glass of rosé. Without hesitation, Caitlyn sipped it.
"Wow," Miss Georgia said.
Caitlyn looked up at her. "What?"
"You're trusting. I could've drugged that."
Fear shot through Caitlyn. How could she have not considered that at all? She placed it gingerly on the side table.
