(This story is a sequel to "Plain Gold Ring".)
Rosita felt like everyone was staring at her as she walked rapidly down the hallway, her body propelled by an intense sexual energy so powerful that she was certain she would have to run a marathon to burn it all off. It seemed to gather around her like a storm cloud of electric, sensual heat, so big and bright and obvious that she had to imagine that everyone who saw her noticed it. As if they just looked at her blushing, tawny cheeks and the way she carried her taut, tense muscles and said, 'Oh yes. There's a woman who needs to get fucked crazy bad.'
She slipped into the bathroom, darting into an open stall and pulling out her phone to check the time. She had forty minutes until her next class. The walk across campus took... what, ten? Maybe fifteen? She had time. It wouldn't take her long. Rosita pulled up her skirt and pulled down her panties, sitting down on the toilet and letting her fingers find their way between her slick, soaking pussy lips. Her free hand pulled up the messaging app, scrolling up with her thumb to the start of today's chat with Mateo while her other thumb rubbed in a similar fashion on her clit. God, it wasn't going to take long at all. She bit her lip to stifle a moan.
It wouldn't really sate her, either. Nothing did, not since that magical evening in Mateo's apartment where the cute Guatemalan boy with the long soft hair and the round, chubby cheeks put Rosita into her very first hypnotic trance and showed her a whole world of possibilities that she'd dismissed up until then as fun, kinky daydreams. It hadn't been five minutes before she'd admitted to him that going under was turning her on, but he hadn't taken advantage of her blank, eager state of relaxation. Instead, he'd woken her up, thanked her for her honesty, and promised to talk over coffee the next day.
But the next day, Rosita's manager had called her in on short notice for a double shift to cover Domingo's food poisoning. And the day after that, Mateo was scheduled to cover a local film festival for the campus paper. And the day after that, Rosita had a physics final she had to cram for. And then they were both off visiting their families for spring break, and then Rosita had a period so bad she had to call in sick for two days, and when she recovered from that Mateo had to fly home for his abuela's 80th birthday, and suddenly it was six weeks later and they hadn't seen each other for more than ten minutes.
Six weeks of waiting. Six weeks of fantasizing. Six weeks of yearning and daydreaming and masturbating whenever she could, sometimes three or even four times a day, each time picturing herself chanting mantras of lust and obedience while she gazed into Mateo's deep brown eyes and felt that warm, delicious feeling of sleepy, sensuous relaxation stealing over her soft, drowsy mind. Six. Goddamn. Weeks. Honestly, Rosita would have thought that Mateo was trying to ghost her if not for the texts.
Today was a perfect example. Mateo sent her a message right before class, a class he fucking knew for a fact she was acing so hard that she could sit in the back of the massive lecture hall and spend her whole time texting back and forth with him and not have to worry one damn bit if her concentration slipped and she lost herself for long stretches in fantasyland. 'What do you want to do while you're hypnotized?' he asked. Rosita gave up on paying attention to her professor for the day.