Emma was in my art studio class in my last year at community college. She was a freshman, straight out of high school of which she was homeschooled. She was only taking classes in subjects that she liked to pass the time until she found a man to marry and give her children to raise. I found her fascinating.
She was a classic beauty, clear skin on a slightly tanned oval face, vibrantly white teeth, hazel eyes with long lashes and a beauty mark right underneath the left one, all framed with slightly curly reddish blonde hair. Her body was just a miracle, at least I assumed from the snippets that could be seen with her modest clothing choices. Emma came from, what I could tell, a very religious upbringing and that made her conservative in the way that she presented herself. But her breasts were large enough to swell against her sweaters, even with her long skirts you could see the how voluptuous her ass was, and on the rare occasion that she wore a pair of khaki pants you could see how curvy her legs were.
Oh yes, she fascinated me.
I wanted her, of course, but I didn't fit the criteria that she had in mind for her future husband and she was in no way looking for a causal relationship. Even if she was, I doubted she would ever actually let me see more of her mysterious body than she let the average person. But, I still tried. I flirted, I made advancements. I wanted to be the one that introduced her to life outside of her family and church. I wanted to awaken things inside of her and show her how colorful the world actually was.
Speaking of color, she was a fantastic artist. I often told her that she should sell her work but she'd just laugh. Her idea of being a woman meant that she had to take care of the family and nothing more. She could dabble in the arts for fun, but never for profit. Profit was for the husband to bring home.
Secretly, I think she liked my compliments and flirtatious banter. She'd always blush deeply and shoo me away with a small smile on her adorable face.
To be honest, I was just getting tired of the game of cat and mouse that we were playing. Knowing that I would never succeed in getting what I want, but seeing it every day drove me insane. I became obsessed. I even followed her home one day, just to see and learn more about her. What started out as a crush became a full out need by the end of the semester. So, I hatched my plan.
The class period that we received our final assignment, I knew she would stay late to work on it. The building closed at 11 pm, and she would usually scurry out at just a few minutes before then, all bundled up in a long coat and scarf. I knew that she always took the same path to the parking lot, and always parked in one of three parking spaces at the very back of the parking lot. I decided to wait in the dark parking lot for her to come out, and snatch her up right then and there.
Nervous as hell I went to class that fateful day, knowing in my mind exactly what was going to go down later that night. I had packed a ski mask, some latex gloves, a set of black clothes and a realistic looking water gun. I doubted that she had ever seen a real gun anyway, so it should work. I took my seat at a drafting table a few behind her, and stole a cheeky look at her backside.
I suppose because of the bitter cold outside, her rare khaki's had made an appearance that day. They were tucked into a pair of flat brown boots. She had on a grey argyle sweater atop of a white button down shirt with the collar and sleeves extending past the sweater. In my mind I started peeling away those clothes like a present, and felt an erection rise in my jeans. Not the first time that had happened to me while gazing at the beautiful Emma, but no less embarrassing than any other time.
Class started and we were handed out a stapled set of four papers that laid out the parameters for our final project. Everyone got to work immediately, including myself. Even with perverted plans up my sleeve, I wanted to pass the class. In fact, time flew while I was doodling and messing around with paint colors. I lost track of time until I saw the professor packing her things together in the corner of my eye.
Class ended at 8:30 pm, I still had two hours before Emma would even start to think about leaving. I said goodbye to the professor and kept working along with Emma, and a couple other serious students that decided to stay late.
At a little after 10, I packed up. Walking past Emma's desk, I patted her on the shoulder and blew her an exaggerated kiss goodbye. That well known blush crept onto her face and she looked away quickly, as if embarrassed by my actions. A smile formed on her lips and that seemed to make her blush even harder.
The student parking lot was a little ways off from the art building that we had class in. It was a pretty well-lit campus at night, but the parking was fairly dark, especially in the back where she liked to park. At this time of night, there was only four cars left, mine, hers, and what I assumed to be the security guards that would stay inside all night. I found her car in a matter of minutes, and ducked into the woods just behind the lot to change.
Because I walked her to her car on numerous occasions, I knew her that she usually opened the closest backdoor first and threw her backpack and supplies onto the backseat, so I decided that wouldn't be the smartest place to hide. She'd open the door, freak out and run before I even managed to get in a standing position. Instead, I sat by her backdoor on the furthest side. When I heard her open and close the other backdoor and then open the front door, I would quickly jump into the backseat with my "gun" pointed at her.
In no time, I heard a little pattering of footsteps getting closer and closer to the other side of the car from where I was perched. I heard the awaited sound of the other backdoor opening and closing, knots tightened in my chest as I realized exactly what was happening and how close it was to happening. I thought about just scurrying off, I still had a chance to not do something this horrible and drastic. I could act like this never happened. The front door opened.
As quick as lightning, I jerked open the backdoor and lunged into her backseat, gun at the ready. Her head whipped around to take in the commotion, eyes wide with fear at the sight of my black ski mask. I placed the gun directly on her forehead with my left hand, hoping the close proximity wouldn't allow her to get a good look at the thing. I closed the door with my right.
"Start the car." I demanded in the deepest voice I could muster, hoping I didn't sound too much like myself.
"Wh...what do you want...?" She immediately started the car without turning her head too much. She was obviously trying not to make any sudden movements, unsure of how to respond.
