The Good Girl

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Simon Says: So I finally was able to finish Chapter 3 of this. Sorry it took so long. Let's just say I really wrestled over this one. Forgive me.

Some notes - - This chapter makes much more sense with the other two having been read first. - I switch perspectives once in the middle. It felt like the right thing to do. - I prefer the slow build and seduction to immediate 'banging' and such. There is sex in this chapter but it ends begging for more (for me anyway :) ). - I welcome all contacts and feedback. I answer all emails. And the perv in me loves to hear how my stories 'affected' you.

I think there will be one more of these .. but who knows? Happy reading all. :) +++++

'How is your day going?' I wasn't exactly an avid texter. Texting generally proved only mildly useful to me, but I knew Rachel's generation saw it as an essential for existence, so I decided to start the conversation. We had texted a few times over the last few days, trying to come to an agreed upon time.

Nearly immediately my phone vibrated. 'gr8 u?'

Yeah, so it took me a moment to do the license plate interpretation game. I think I can do this.

'Very well thanks. Looking forward to seeing you tonight.'

Buzz. 'me 2 :-O'

Ok, that one I couldn't figure out. The 'me 2' portion I got but . . . Should I ask? Eyeballs? And is that just a huge nose?

Apparently my pause in writing made it obvious. 'LOL that mnz im excited!'

'Thanks for the translation. :)'

'what should i wear?'

'Just come as you are. I will take care of the rest.'

'ooo ok' There was an extended pause, followed by another buzz. 'i cant wait'

'Neither can I. :)'

That was a completely honest answer. This girl had literally sent me into a tail spin.

The never planned aspects of life usually prove to be much more interesting and this without a doubt fit into that category. Rachel brought out. . something. .deep inside of me. A need that I didn't realize existed. I felt like I had been woken up from a dream and my new reality was a clear relational interaction with Rachel. That's it. That was my complete focus.

I tried to focus on classes and such but honestly only felt drawn to remembering, in great detail, every inch of that girl's body. The body I wanted to control, direct and enjoy. The body belonging to the girl whose personality, outlook, intelligence and everything just totally captivated me. Obsessed. I am pretty sure that was what I was feeling.

I had sent her my address and a time, now it was on me to be ready. There were no agreed upon rules of engagement here. Frankly I didn't think she wanted any, and I wanted to act on impulse. See what inspired me. Act out of raw emotion and need. She was going to provide me with plenty of inspiration.

So I ran around and straightened a bit as I thought through what dinner would entail.

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I opened the door to a sweet smile, flashing eyes and a beautiful girl attached to all of it. Rachel waited patiently with what was a very excited look on her face.

I paused and enjoyed the moment . . the one where she waited for me, the one where I got to determine the next steps. She seemed to be enjoying the same. This simple silent exchange really reinforced this odd relationship that had developed over two in-office encounters. I didn't know where things would go, but I certainly was enjoying the path to get to wherever that was.

I stepped to the side and motioned for her to come inside. She nodded, the smile never leaving her face. Her fingers fidgeted in front of her lap as she walked quickly past me. I quietly closed the door behind her as she stepped a few more steps into the apartment and stopped, waiting. The thrill began again.

"Turn for me, sweet girl." I quietly said behind her. She slowly turned around. My eyes watched her dress briefly lift as she spun, her shapely legs showcased a bit more for only a scant second. I brought my eyes up her body, past the front of her sundress and her concealed breasts, to her face. She was watching me, seemingly enjoying the inspection underway.

"You look lovely, Rachel. So lovely." I muttered almost just to myself.

She obviously heard me, her smile beamed in pleasure. "Thank you, sir." And the sound of 'sir' sent a small jolt through me. I hear that word constantly, but from her the layers of meaning were much deeper. More erotic.

I nodded and walked past her, my fingers briefly brushing against her arm. A gesture of ownership. And I heard her take a breath at my touch. Message received, it seemed.

I could take her now. Several times. And I would enjoy it immensely. And I am sure she would want that. But there was just something so much more . . . satisfying . . .. exhilarating . . . about taking my time. The slow burn. The long build-up. The journey.

I stepped towards the couch and leaned against the arm. She remained firmly in place where I left her, her eyes tracking my movements, her lips parted a bit. Good girl.

"Rachel . . . " I motioned to the stool by the kitchen island. She immediately nodded and sat down.

I had picked this for a few reasons, most notably that her dress rode up nicely on her legs showing just a hint more of her thighs., which were quite amazing . . Just like the rest of her. And even more importantly, it felt like I was putting her on display for myself, which I literally was. She crossed her legs in a rather demure and ladylike fashion. My eyes lingered briefly on her creamy thighs, but then quickly moved back to her face..

"I would like to spend a few minutes talking about. . this." I motioned at the two of us as I tried to find the right word for what we were. No reference point. No precedence. Whatever we were was completely new to me. And seemingly to her.

She looked at me expectantly, her fingers fidgeting in her lap located just above the amazing legs mentioned above. My eyes kept darting down to her slender fingers as they pulled at each other. Then back to her eyes. She just watched me.

"As we both seem to be . . . enjoying this . .. . arrangement . . . . I think we need to set up some guidelines for how this works."

Her brow furrowed ever so slightly. I smiled and raised my eyebrow causing her immediately to nod that she understood, "yes sir, of course."

"Good girl," I nodded. I stood up and slid my hands in my pockets, noting that her eyes seemed to watch them disappear from view. A small smile formed on my lips. She and I were developing quite an effective nonverbal communication channel.

"Rule number one . . . " I continued looking off into space as I thought out loud, "while I enjoyed you beyond measure in my office . . twice . . . it is best to not repeat that anymore." I moved my eyes back to her face, flushed red with the memory. Yes, I fondly remember those encounters too, Rach.

I started pacing, almost as if I was in lecture mode. "So that means we must meet here or . . . " I glanced at her sending one of those silent messages. She immediately caught on. "Oh . . um . . I live by myself." She still sounded very nervous, which did nothing but excite me more. It gave rise to that protection mode I had recently discovered.

"Good." I nodded, returning to lean back against the arm of the chair. "We can meet there too, but when we do we will need to exercise more . . .care."

I locked eyes on hers to emphasize my point. "As much as I am enjoying this . . . and believe me I am . . . I want to continue with my career." She nodded. "Yes sir."

I nodded again, continuing, "So while I will not necessarily be in disguise I will want to be discreet. Does that make sense?"

She nodded immediately. "Yes sir, it does."

"Good . . . also . . . my rules at either location. What I say goes. Understood?" I think I saw her gulp. She managed another quieter nod, if that's possible.

"Are you sure you agree?" I looked at her rather intensely simply because I felt intense. I wanted her to follow my lead. Completely. No exceptions.

She nodded, her lips parted again in an unfocused way. "Yes sir. . . I do."

I returned to my feet, my hands remained in my pockets. "Good." I smiled and held out my hand to her. She looked at it for a second as if trying to process if what it looked like was actually what it was, or if she was missing a silent signal from me for something completely different. She made her decision and placed her fingers in the palm of my hand.

I felt the warmth of her soft skin beneath my fingertips. This immediately brought to my mind the soft warmth of all of her skin. Her skin. Or rather, the skin that now belonged to me. On the girl that now belonged to me. My skin. My girl.

I gently moved her to the table where salads and a pasta dish sat ready to go. She looked down, smiled with pleasure and looked me in the eyes. "Looks delicious."

"Certainly does." I smiled at her and she blushed as she sat in her chair.

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The subsequent conversation proved lovely. We actually connected quite well, which begs the question of whether we would have connected well before we experienced the intense shared delicious moments, or if this relaxed connection was really a natural byproduct of such an intense event.

It didn't matter. I thoroughly enjoyed her. She was young but spoke of older things, like dreams of the future, plans. She exhibited thoughtful wisdom and a sensible realist's outlook on life now and after school. She truly was a strong woman.

Her eyes bashfully watched me as she answered all of my questions and even asked her own. The interesting silent undercurrent of communication continued and my desire and need only rose.

At the end of dinner she glanced at me, "Sir, may I clean up for you?" I nodded and smiled, sipping my after-dinner coffee.

I watched her athletic form move around the small kitchen (an open layout that included my dining room and the kitchen attached to the side), rinsing dishes, putting food away. She seemed to be completely in tune naturally with layout and function as she shifted quickly from one task to another.

Her hands plunged deeply into the warm water as she wiped down the pot and colander used to cook the pasta. The urge. It just came washing over me as I watched this girl. I really couldn't stop the compulsion.

I stood from my seat and quietly moved towards the kitchen I watched her body shift before the sink, nearly bouncing a bit as she worked on the pot.

I quietly moved closer, immediately behind her. Her hands slowed as she undoubtedly focused on my presence. She continued to clean the pot but she seemed more like an animal listening in the forest for potential danger.

I wanted her. I wanted to touch her. I wanted to feel her. I wanted to posses her. This girl, merely washing dishes, suddenly shifted into the most intoxicating thing I had ever seen.

Her blond hair cascaded down past her shoulders. My eyes rested on the glimpse of her rounded cheek, her face not very visible from my angle. I moved my hands to her hair and gently moved it to one side, exposing the back of her neck. I ran a single finger along the back of her neck, admiring the smooth silky nature of her skin, the warmth against my fingertip. She stopped cleaning altogether, drawing a breath and holding it, her hands just now submerged in warm soapy water.

I moved my hands to her hips where my fingers gently pressed against her. She held perfectly still.

"Keep washing please."

She nodded, moving her hands slowly, still not breathing. She didn't seem to be paying attention at all to the actual dish as her movements seemed robotic. Obviously her attention had shifted, and I was glad.

My fingers moved across her stomach, feeling the soft fabric of the sundress shift across her perfect stomach. I found the shape of her navel through the thin material of her sundress. She let out a very small sound, like a small moan, her hands no longer able to continue washing now gripped the edge of the sink itself.

I pressed my body up close behind her, my presence now nearly completely surrounding her, my arms on either side keeping her close.

I slid my fingers up her bare arms to her shoulders. My fingertips found their way beneath the straps of her dress, gently tugging them out and down her arms. Her dress immediately began to fall, eventually pooling at her feet.

No bra. Cotton pink panties. My fingers moved back down her sides and behind her. She squirmed a little, probably in anticipation. Her fingers gripped the sink tightly as if she was bracing herself.

And she should.

I reached around and passed my fingertips across her now exposed breasts, her nipples practically reaching out to greet my touch. I gently held her breasts for a moment, enjoying the feel of her hard nipples beneath the palms of my hands. My lips pressed against her exposed neck. I couldn't get enough of her. I moved my hands down her stomach and around her hips.

I grabbed the back of her panties and pulled them down. Her beautiful bottom now inviting me. Beckoning me. I unbuckled and unzipped, pulling pants and boxers down in one movement. My very hard cock immediately bounced back into position once freed from the confines of my clothes.

Not bothering to remove anything, my pants and boxers tight against my thighs, my shirt still in place, I moved the head of my cock between her thighs. I felt urgency. I wanted to have her now and undressing, moving out of the kitchen and getting comfortable seemed all to be complete wastes of precious seconds of pleasure with her.

I felt the tip of my head brush across her inner-thigh, a small bit of wetness inevitably left behind in a faint trail as it moved closer to where it needed to be. Her breathing ragged, she remained still. Ready for me. Waiting on me. The tip of my cock pressed against her pussy, slightly between her lips. I could feel how her flower opened just a little to me. Intoxicating.

I pulled back and I could almost feel her disappointment. "Turn around for me please."

She didn't speak but immediately turned. I stepped back and let my eyes roam down the naked beauty. Completely naked. Perspiration already forming on her stomach, her neck, across her perfect breasts.

"I am going to fuck you now, Rachel." Her lips parted but she seemed to be incapable of speech. This just spurred my lust on even more, my fingers needing to grasp her, my cock needing to be buried deep inside of her.

I stepped forward, her hands immediately coming to my hips, sliding beneath my shirt tails. My pants and boxers remained held up by my thighs. I pressed forward with my cock sliding beneath her pussy lips, naturally pushing up between the lips. But the head of my cock travelled past her slit and rested for a moment, until I guided it by hand up inside of her.

One of her hands moved behind my neck and held me tight, moving fingers in the back of my hair. Her face buried into my neck as I pushed my hard cock deep inside of her. I felt her hot breath against my skin. And even some small kisses. And at once point just an open mouth pressed against the side of my neck. God this girl was perfect.

I pushed up deep inside of her and felt the warmth of the wet walls of her pussy press snugly around my shaft. We fit perfectly.

I slowly pumped into her. Each thrust brought moans from her. And from me. I had never been so vocal before, but she literally pulled it out of me.

Her bottom pressed against the edge of the sink as I continued to thrust deep inside of her. My balls pressed underneath her. My fingers holding her body still as I pushed. And she held on for dear life, her arms, face and body all pressed into me.

I felt the increase. The oncoming waves. I felt the nearing explosion. And as hard as I tried to hold it off the delicious girl who was literally snugly wrapped around my cock was making it impossible. And so I let it.

I came. I cried out. I moaned. My neighbors had never heard such vocalizations before, but I imagined it would not be the last. I held onto her tight and continued to thrust through the orgasm, feeling her get wetter and wetter.

I heard her whisper in my neck, "sir?"

I grunted out a 'yes' and immediately felt the throbbing of the walls of her pussy encasing my cock. The sensation almost made me cum again. I continued to thrust even after I started to soften a bit, even after I had nothing left inside of me. Slowly the two of us stopped squirming against each other and instead I merely held her body tightly against mine as I kept myself inside of her.

I felt her quick breaths on my neck as she recovered, her face still nestled against my neck. Her naked, perfect breasts were pressed tightly against my chest. My hands cupped her firm bottom, holding her in place on my shaft, still buried inside of her.

I brought my hand up and gently stroked her hair, but she clearly wanted to remain firmly locked into place.

"Thank you, my sweet girl." I literally felt her lips move into a smile against my neck.

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"He is fantastic, Lauren. You will see." Rachel was being her usual emphatic self, desperately trying to convince me that this older guy . .this former professor of hers . . was just pure awesomeness. I obviously wasn't buying it.

I mean seriously. Girls our age with guys his age? And there was the whole student/ professor paradigm, while not technically an issue anymore really precipitated the whole relationship in the first place. So this whole thing really seemed to be the textbook case for a relationship disaster.

"Look Rachel, I get that he makes you feel great and all, but you know this is a bad idea. You really have to know it." I was holding her hand as I pleaded with her, hoping that she would come to her senses. My mind and my heart were screaming at me that this was a catastrophe waiting to happen for her. And I didn't want to see my closest friend's heart broken.

Rachel often deferred to me on issues where she knew that acting with her head was the right answer, but she felt a need to act with her heart. And she had a big heart, so my words of wisdom often needed to be repeated. And often. But this one seemed to be a deep-rooted heart issue. She just couldn't seem to see a reason to get out of it.

I knew that it began in his office . . That it was spontaneous for both of them . . That even though she didn't want it to continue that they experienced a full repeat the next week . . And that she goes to his apartment several times a week. I also knew that he had begun going to hers too now that the semester was done and the more official nature of their relationship had concluded.

She just smiled and shook her head. "You will see Lauren."

I seriously doubted that. I held her hand longer but smiled in some support. "Rachel, please keep telling me everything. I want to be here for you, ok?"

She seemed to pause for a moment as if she considered telling me something, which of course set off blinking red lights and loud a-ooga alarms. She hadn't told me everything. And she was easy to read.

God please do not let it be some awful evil crazy terrible thing. I loved Rachel. She was more than just a best friend, she was THE best friend I had ever had. We clicked together, where one was weak the other was strong. And we were very much in tune with each other. So when she felt pain and sadness, I felt it right along with her.

"What are you not telling me, Rach?"

"All is good, Lauren." She put on the stupid completely transparently fake all-is-good smile. And I, according to our normal process in such a situation, raised my eyebrow in doubt. This is the cue for her to then work through whether she was going to tell me. Which she usually did.

But apparently not this time.

She squeezed my hand and smiled. "All is good, Lauren. Trust me." She smiled again.