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Tuesday, October 5, 2010
I watched her walk inside the coffee shop. I didn’t know the pretty blonde’s name but I was sure we had a few classes together.
As she walked to the counter a strap of her backpack caught the top of her t-shirt, pulling the material tight against her left breast. It lifted her shirt, showing a little of her soft stomach. She stopped walking and stood still while she yanked the bottom of her t-shirt back down to her waist. Her left hand tugged vigorously at the backpack. I heard her groan as the strap stayed in place, holding her plump, massive breast captive.
I chuckled as I took a sip of my iced tea. After a half hour of studying the not-so-exciting world of municipal bond markets, my classmate’s struggle was a welcomed distraction.
My eyes focused on the gorgeous breast twenty feet in front of me. It was covered by a thin, pink cotton t-shirt that did nothing to hide the firmness of her nipple. She wore a white hooded sweatshirt over her t-shirt. It didn’t look heavy enough to keep her warm on such a cold day.
Should I try to help her? Surely I was strong enough to loosen that stubborn backpack. And, in doing so, I could make a clever comment about how cold it must be outside for her nipple to get so hard. She’d laugh and toss her head back. Her long blond hair would fall off her shoulders onto her back in slow motion. Thankful for my help, she’d lift up her shirt to give me a better look at her tits before I rip her clothes off and throw her down on the dirty hardwood floor.
Shit, I gotta stop watching so much porn. My cock tightened against my zipper. I shifted my weight in my chair, trying to move things around without being obvious.
Finally, her backpack let go of her shirt. She shook her head and walked toward the counter, carrying the backpack on her arm like a purse.
“You alright?” The barista chuckled. “Havin’ some trouble today?”
She smiled. “Yes, actually. It’s been one heck of a day already.”
He leered at her as she read the menu on the wall.
“I’ll have a large iced latte,” she said.
“You want whipped cream? It doesn’t come with it but I’ll give it to you anyway,” he said.
Does he really think that’s impressive?
“Aww, that’s so sweet of you,” she said.
“No problem.” He gave her a dorky smile. “What’s your name?”
“Susie… I’m Greg. Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you, too.” She smiled at Greg, then slung her backpack over her right shoulder and walked away from the counter, stopping a few feet from my table.
I saw her scan the room, biting her lower lip. I turned around in my chair to assess the seating situation. I hoped she needed to prepare for the next day’s test in Finance 202 so I could invite her to sit with me without looking desperate. I imagined her tits accidentally brushing against me as we huddled together to discuss our questions. Maybe I could reach across her for a pen while her hard nipples casually dig into my arm…
I felt my cock push against my metal zipper again.
“Susie! Iced latte!”
She gave Greg a little wave and another smile and picked up her drink. I glanced at the table to my right and saw a guy lean forward in his chair, watching her intently as she stepped away from the counter.
I knew it was time for me to pounce before the other guy could offer her a seat. I waved. “Need a place to sit?”
She turned toward me, her head cocked to the side. “Yeah. Do I know you?”
I extended my hand and rose slightly from my chair. “Tyler Campbell.” It took all of my effort not to stare at her chest as I introduced myself.
“Susanna Lombardi.” Her hand felt cold from being outside but her skin was soft. I gently moved my arm up and down to see if her tits would bounce a little as we shook hands. They did. I’m evil.
“Lombardi? You don’t look Italian.” Shit, my flirting skills are rusty.
“Yeah, I get that a lot,” she said. Her voice was low for a woman, with a hint of a Southern accent.
She sat down across from me and put her backpack on the table. While she was busy getting her books out, I used the opportunity to stare at her for a few seconds, unnoticed.
Her t-shirt fit loosely, showing her supple, milky white skin down to the top of her cleavage. I imagined those huge, milky white breasts attached to her soft, plump body, bouncing up and down on top of me.
My eyes went from her cleavage to her eyes as she continued. “I know I’m too light to look Italian. A lot of people think I’m nuts for not trying to be darker. But I don’t wanna look like a leather purse when I’m 30.”
“There’s nothing wrong with your paleness,” I said. “You shouldn’t try to change the way you are. It’s very nice.” I wanted to pay her another compliment but I was too distracted by my visualization of her soft, naked body and the thought of my tongue gliding across her hard nipple. I couldn’t remember another time when I’d been so flustered by perverted thoughts of a beautiful woman I’d just met.
“That’s sweet of you. But it’s easy for you to say. Tans are favored in this college town.” I could see straight down her shirt when she leaned across the table, casually laying her forearm across mine. “See the difference? You make me look like a ghost.”
After a few seconds she drew her arm back as if nothing had happened. I hope I don’t have to stand up for a while. I hadn’t gotten hard in public since the tenth grade.
I’d never been so attracted to a girl who looked like her before. Skinny brunettes with dark complexions usually caught my eye but I couldn’t remember reacting to any woman like I had the soft, curvy blonde with ivory skin sitting across from me. It didn’t help that a subtle, peachy vanilla scent lingered in the air after she leaned across the table.
Susie took a long look at my hair. “I love your hair. It’s so healthy it makes me sick. You don’t see many long-haired guys around here.”
My hair was long but not quite halfway down my back. I wore it down that day instead of my usual ponytail.
“I’m Indian,” I said. “Uh, I mean, American Indian, mostly. My mom is half Indian and half something else. We’re not sure what.”
She laughed, to which I responded with nervous chuckling. Damn, I need to be careful before I say something really stupid. I picked up my iced tea and took a drink, trying to get my thoughts in order.
“Well, Tyler, whatever genes your mother gave you, they’ve made you very handsome.” Without pause, and without eye contact, she changed the subject. “So, are you studying for the test in McCray’s class tomorrow?”
I wondered if I should respond to her compliment. I decided not to, considering how quickly she’d moved on. But at least I knew what she thought of my looks.
“Yes. You?” I asked.
“Yes. I should’ve studied more for the last one. I won’t be caught off guard this time. He’s tricky but as long as you work through the examples in the book, his tests are no big deal.” She paused to drink her frozen coffee before continuing. “I did that for the first test and got a 98. I got a 90 last time because I was lazy. Don’t spend too much time on the lecture notes.”
“That’s good to know. I’ve gotten a 92 and an 84 so far. Maybe we could go through the examples together?” I asked.
“Yes! I’d love that.” Her gray-blue eyes widened.
The way she smiled and responded to my unusually dorky conversation made me breathe a little easier. “So,” I asked. “You said your name’s Susanna, but I heard you tell Greg at the counter that your name is Susie. Which do you prefer?”
“I don’t care, really. Susie’s fine. But it sounds like a little girl’s name. Call me whichever one you want. I just ask that you pick one and stick with it. I’m like a trained dog. If I get used to your voice calling me Susie, I won’t know who you’re talking to if you call me Susanna.”