The first time I saw her was right after my English class. I was just leaving and she was just coming in. She was breathtaking. Tall. Blonde. Blue eyes (or so I imagined). Athletic. She could have been a volley ball player. Or a Viking warrior. I crushed out instantly and pretended I was organizing my bag while watching her approach my instructor. They obviously knew each other. Student? Friend? Lover? I had no idea. All I knew is I’d have trouble not thinking about her for the rest of the day. The rest of the quarter, even.
Not wanting to be too obvious, I hurried out of the room and headed back to my room in the dorm.
College. My first year. First time away from home, too, although not entirely away. My brother went here too. He was three years ahead of me and lived at one of the frat houses, so I had him to fall back on if I needed to. A safety net. Not that I wanted one.
One of the drawbacks to living in the dorm was having a roommate. I desperately wanted to get myself off while thinking about the tall blonde girl. Woman, really. She looked older. 25 maybe? To me, that was older. I didn’t dare, though. Not until I was alone. I liked my roomie Maggie, but at that moment, I resented her a little. I am sure she felt the same on occasion.
Thankfully, it wasn’t the last time I saw her. She visited the classroom every Thursday around the same time. Eventually I pieced it together after overhearing a conversation. Professor Booth was her mother and they met for lunch. I should have guessed. My English professor, although at least twice my age, was gorgeous and I’d had a few fantasies about her before I’d seen her daughter. It was obvious where she got her looks from. By then I’d fingerfucked myself about a dozen times, fantasizing about her.
At first it was just the usual. She’d seduce me and we’d fuck. Then, some of my darker fantasies crept in. Some of my… interests. I’d figured out a few years ago that I was submissive and that I liked to be tied up. I’d actually convinced a boyfriend to do it once. I’d liked it. Only once, though. Not long after that I’d realized that I liked girls more. I guess that made me bi? I was still figuring that out, to be honest. Once I saw her – Inga – something else I’d learned overhearing their conversation, the idea of being with a guy lost all appeal. Not that I had a chance with her. She was out of my league. Older. Hotter. And she was my instructor’s daughter.
That all changed one evening. My brother invited me to a party at his frat house.
“It’ll be fun, Amy. Lots of good-looking guys. When was the last time you hooked up with someone?”
I shrugged. Not since coming here. No one really interested me enough. No one but Inga at least.
“I guess,” I told him. Actually, it might be fun to let loose a little. Get a little drunk. Just.. have a good time. Maybe there’d be some cute girls to flirt with. I was still in the closet at home and as far as Brian knew, I was straight, so I couldn’t be too obvious.
She was there too… turned out her younger brother also belonged to the same frat as mine… I ran into her, almost literally, while getting a glass of ‘special’ punch. Not sure what was in it, but the first one had been really good and left me a little tipsy and I liked the feeling.
I wasn’t sure what to say. After all, I’d never actually met her. I had been right, by the way, about the color of her eyes. The color of the sky. Eyes I could get lost in.
“You’re the girl in my mom’s class, aren’t you.”
She recognized me? Had I been caught out?
“English. Yes. I guess?”
She laughed. It was a nice laugh. Warm but with an edge to it. A laugh that sent pleasant shivers through me.
“You’re always staying a little later than the other students. I wonder why.”
“I…” I felt myself blushing. Because I’m obsessed with you, I thought. Not that I’d ever tell her that.
“Inga,” she said, introducing herself.
I already knew. Not that I told her that.
“I’m Amy.”
“Scoping out the guys, Amy?” she asked, teasingly.
I shrugged. “Not really. That’s what my brother thinks, but…” I decided to take a chance. It was the punch. “More interested in the girls.”
“Cool. Me too.”
My pulse quickened. Her too. She was… fuck me. I took a drink. A healthy one.
“I was just about to leave. Not really my scene. Walk with me.”
She wasn’t asking. She was… telling me. Not that I needed to be told. I nodded, trying to look cool and collected. I’m not sure I managed, but maybe?
We walked. It was a nice enough night. It was still autumn and the party had given me an excuse to dress up a little. I had on a pastel green sundress and a pale yellow button-up sweater and heels to make me look taller. At 5 foot 2 inches I needed all the help I could get especially next to Inga. My guess was she was about 6 feet tall in bare feet. And she was wearing heels. I felt very small beside her. I kind of liked the feeling, though.
She was easy to talk to. Especially since I was a little drunk. She asked me all the usual questions, volunteering very little herself. Where I was from. What classes I was taking. What was my major. What kind of music I liked. Books. Movies. Hobbies. Before I knew it we were almost to my dorm.
“I live there,” I said, pointing.”
“Good to know. What room?”
“32. First floor.”
“I’ll let you go. It was nice meeting you. And now I have a name and an address for the cute little blond in my mom’s English class.”
Disappointment mingled chaotically with hope. The ice had been broken, at least. When I got to my room there was a note from Maggie. She was visiting her parents until Sunday evening. I didn’t waste any time crawling onto my bed and fingering myself into a frenzy over the image of Inga ravishing me. The orgasms – plural – were spectacular. Finall,y I drifted off into a semi-drunken slumber and dreamed of a tall blonde goddess named Inga. The next morning I didn’t even bother getting out of bed until I’d fingered myself to three more powerful orgasms. I was more than obsessed. I didn’t care. Wednesday, the day Inga usually visited her mother, couldn’t come fast enough.
It was torture waiting, especially since, with Maggie back, I was forced into celibacy once more. I felt on edge most of the time. And not being able to masturbate didn’t mean I wasn’t constantly thinking of her. Constantly aroused. To be honest, I was surprised no one seemed to notice that I gave off the scent of pussy. Or that I had to change my panties two or three times a day after they’d gotten too damp to wear.
Eventually, Wednesday did arrive and, like usual, I hung back in class long enough to get a glimpse of Inga. Not just a glimpse, this time. A smile and a hello as well.
“You look nice, Amy,” she commented.
“Thank you,” I said, well aware that I was blushing. I did look nice. After all, I’d dressed up a little just for her. Nothing that stood out too much. A modest black skirt. Pleated. And a short-sleeved pink blouse. The day had been cool, so I’d thrown on a red sweater.
She looked nice too. She always did, of course. Jeans that hugged her hips. A white cotton tee that was a little snug in all the best ways. And a charcoal hoodie. Sometimes she wore her long blond hair loose. Today she wore it in a braid draped over one shoulder, viking-style.
“Plans for the weekend?”
“I… umm… not really?” I answered, a little tongue-tied in her presence. She couldn’t help but notice. She looked down at me with amusement, sharing a smile that was meant only for me.
“You are adorable. Would you like to go to a party? A much more interesting one than last time?”
“I… yeah, sure,” I managed, my heart beating against my ribs so hard that I was surprised she didn’t hear it. Maybe she did.
“I’ll swing by your room. Saturday around 5. Oh, and Amy?”
“Yes?”
“Look nice for me.”
My throat went suddenly dry. I swallowed, nodding, not daring to say anything. And then, she was gone or rather, she was walking towards her mom, leaving me a mess. Was it a date? Just a friendly invitation? I didn’t want to think about it too much, but it was all I could think about for the rest of the day. And the day after and the day after that. And then, it was Saturday and I had all day to think about it some more. Another day of enforced celibacy, unfortunately. Or maybe not, considering what happened that night…
I spent the day nervously wondering what would happen, my head full of erotic thoughts. Foolish thoughts. Perhaps. Eventually, I got ready, giving myself plenty of time to change my mind several times. In the end I picked out a lavender form-fitting mini-dress and some nicer underwear. Not the usual cotton bra and panties I usually wore, but pink lace. If she never checked, no harm no foul. And if she did… That said, as short as my dress was, she might get an eyeful either way.
I painted my nails, fingers and toes, pastel pink, doing my best to match my panties. Pink lipstick. Eyeliner. Mascara. A pair of white sandals. As an afterthought, I tied my light brown hair back in a ponytail with pink ribbon and added a necklace. An ‘A’ for Amy on a silver chain. Because of my size I usually tried to make myself look a little older. I wasn’t just short, I was petite. Slim with small breasts. Impulsively I went in the other direction. I could easily pass for 16 right now.
She arrived a few minutes early. Thankfully my roommate was out with friends when she did.
“You look adorable,” she said, obviously pleased. I blushed a little under her appraising gaze, but managed to not stumble over my words.
“You look stunning,” I told her. It was the truth. She was wearing a black dress. Not as short as mine. Midthigh. It showed off her legs nicely. Her boots were black leather and went up to just below her knees. Of course they had heels. Three inches if I was to guess. She was wearing a coat. Charcoal grey and as long as her dress. It had been a bit cooler lately.
“Put on a coat, baby girl.” That was the first time she used that name. Not the last, though. I wasn’t sure if I liked it or not. Not right then. I’d soon discover that I’d grow use to it.
I only had two nice coats. She chose for me, telling me to wear the white one. It was a little longer than the dress I was wearing. Not much, though. She even helped me into it. It was feeling more and more like a date. I began to get my hopes up.
“Where are we going?” I asked, curious.
“My parents are out of town for the weekend and asked me to look after the place. So, of course, I had to throw a party. It’s expected, right?”
I had to laugh at that, thinking of all the parties my brother had thrown while mom and dad were on vacation. Some of them had gotten a little out of hand. I’d gotten drunk for the first time and lost my virginity all on the same night.
“Sounds fun.”
“It will be.”
She drove a black SUV. She put on music – Billie EIlish – and chatted off and on. I was still nervous. I know she could tell, but she didn’t say anything for which I was thankful.
Her parents lived out in the suburbs. Two-story house. Nice neighborhood. A nice yard. Enough space between houses that, unless things got really out of hand, no one would probably complain.
“You eat?”
“I… no. I forgot?”
She laughed at that. “There’s leftovers in the fridge. I’ll heat some up. Got about an hour before anyone shows up.”
We had leftover chicken with rice. And a salad. Inga poured some wine. It was good. Something expensive, I think. It loosened me up a little…
This time, she talked a little about herself, but she didn’t really give away much. I learned that she had been on the volleyball team and that she’d gotten her degree in computer science with a minor in art. As for her age, I was close. I’d guessed 25. Two years off. She’d just turned 27.
“Tonight’s sort of a belated birthday party. Not that I’m making that big a deal out of it.”
“You should have told me. I would have gotten you a present. Or something.”
“The night is still young,” she said, quietly, gazing across the table at me. There was a look of hunger in her eyes. One that made me shiver a little with desire. And maybe a little fear…
“What do you think is going to happen tonight, Amy?” she took me by surprise with the question. I shrugged, not quite sure what to say.
“Let me rephrase that. What do you hope will happen? The truth, please.”
“I…” I wasn’t really sure how to answer that. I knew what I hoped would happen, I mean. I just couldn’t say it out loud.
She laughed softly, an amused look on her face.
“I’ve seen how you look at me. I’m not blind. I see the lust in your eyes and I can fill in the blanks. Let’s try again. What do you hope happens?”
Nervously, I took another drink. And then another, finishing off my glass while she watched in silence. Patiently waiting.
“I… I like you. I mean, not just like… ever since I saw you that first day I’ve had a crush.” Once started, the words just started spilling out. I couldn’t stop them.
“I wasn’t sure if this was a date? I think about you… a lot.”
“Do you want it to be a date?”
“Yes,” I said, nodding, saying nothing more.
“And tell me what you do when you think about me.”
It wasn’t a question. Our gazes locked and I could see that this was one of those moments that could change my life, depending on how I answered.
“I masturbate,” I mumbled.
“I guessed as much. How often?”
“It’s hard to get any alone time. Whenever I do… I do. A lot.”
“Good girl,” she praised, another phrase I would get used to very quickly.
“You don’t think that’s… creepy?”
“No. I’m flattered. Ready for dessert?”
The change in subjects took me by surprise. I wondered, briefly, what she meant. Was it like one of those lines from a cheesy porno?
She put out a couple of slices of cheesecake, grinning at me, as if she knew what I’d been thinking.
“Happy birthday,” I told her, giggling a little.
“Happy birthday to me,” she replied, a predatory smile on her face. I shivered, feeling desire rising up within me. I wanted her. I wanted her to fuck me in the worst way. And I knew she knew it.
The party was… fun. Her friends were all her age. I was the only one under 25 here. Definitely the only one under 20. They didn’t seem weird about it, though. There was wine and beer and mixed drinks. I stuck to wine. I didn’t want to get drunk. Tipsy was nice, though. It kept me loose.
“Open your mouth, put out your tongue,” she told me after most of the people who were coming seemed to have arrived.
I did exactly what she asked, curious. She dropped a gummy bear onto my tongue. “A little present. You ever get high?”
“A couple of times. In high school.”
“Your first college high, then. Having fun?”
“Yes.” I must have sounded surprised. She laughed and ran her fingers over my arm, starting at my shoulder, then slowly down to my forearm.
“Good,” was all she said.
As for me, I was suddenly aware that my panties had gotten damp somewhere between ‘having fun’ and ‘good’.
I’d like to say I was sociable, but mostly I stayed near Inga. For one, I felt a little shy. For another, I just wanted to bathe in her presence as much as I could. Not that she seemed to mind. She gifted me with more touches. The brush of fingers on my shoulder. The back of my hands. Running briefly through my hair. Not necessarily sexual, but they had that effect on me. I felt my arousal growing. Not only that, the edible that she’d given me was taking effect. In other words, I was getting high for the first time in over a year.
“It’s less crowded upstairs, Amy.”
I took the bait and followed her up the stairs, my panties getting damper with each step, my heart beating against my ribs in anticipation, pretty sure I knew what was going to happen once she got me alone. She’d been toying with me all evening after all. It wasn’t just hope. I knew. Or at least I thought I did…
I was wrong. Not entirely, but no, we didn’t fuck, much to my disappointment. We found a bedroom and closed the door. She sat me on the bed while she pulled a chair up in front of me. She’d brought a bottle of wine and a pair of glasses with her. She poured me a drink, then one for herself.
“My old room. Now it’s a guest room. Not a lot of me left in it,” she mused before regarding me for a moment, running her tongue between her lips as if deep in thought. Then, as if she’d reached a decision, she placed her hands in…
