talked natural y and freely, fil ing in the silence as they completely ignored her and tried to find new ways to casual y put their hands on her body.
When she had explained the math problem to nobody’s satisfaction, she stood and stretched. The seated student jumped to his feet, put his hands on her waist, and gave her a kiss. Then she kissed her first friend again, and final y broke free.
She shook her head with a broad smile.
“One side effect of al the rules,” she whispered, taking my hand, “is that I’m the most popular study partner in the class. Everybody but everybody needs my help.”
“They’re total y in love with you.”
She laughed. “I think they’re taking advantage of me.”
“That’s wonderful,” I said.
“Yeah. No! I mean, did you see them? According to our rules, I have to talk to guys, and they picked up on that rule in the first thirty seconds. They sensed that I wasn’t saying ‘no’ to anything. So they’re always talking to me about the assignments and asking for help with their essays. I should get paid as a teacher’s assistant for al the guys in class.”
“Oh. I thought they were taking advantage because they’re touching or kissing you al the time.”
“Probably that too,” she shrugged. “The kissing is easy. I’l have to take your word about the touching.”
“No kidding? You didn’t notice them taking epic feels off you?”
“Not any more than usual,” she said. “I mean, since I started wearing these little dresses, I have no personal space.
I’ve noticed that other girls have two or three feet between them and the guys they talk with. I have about four inches, at most. Usual y I’m skin-to-skin with everybody. It’s nothing serious, I got used to it pretty fast.”
“That’s so hot,” I said.
“But for me, it’s business as usual.”
“That’s what’s so hot about it.”
The next day, we went to the Student Union for cokes. Carol was wearing a short, flower-print dress with leather shoes, and looking quite enticing about it. As I studied her shape inside her translucent dress, a hand came sliding around her waist.
The hand, flat-palmed on my girlfriend’s body, went on a journey across her torso, catching a stupefying feel along the way. It came to rest on her stomach, a little below her bel y button.
My dick was hard enough hammer out dents in cars.
I tracked the hand back to a young, Guido-looking Jersey guy with an open col ar and gold chains around his neck. His face was mere inches away from hers, and his toothsome smile made me think of a man-eating shark.
“Emmeline,” he said, “have you given any thought about tonight? Or tomorrow night? Or the night after? Or ever?”
“I’l tel you later,” she said. “This is Trapper, my boyfriend.”
“Oh, hey,” he said, backing off. He met my eyes with a hard stare, as if I wanted to steal his food.
“Hi!” I held out my hand, and he took it, suspicious.
Emmeline said, “Trapper, this is my friend from class. He wants to take me out to dinner.”
I smiled at him. “Just make sure it’s a nice place. Emmeline deserves the best.”
He nodded uncertainly. He was, obviously and reasonably, confused by Emmeline and me.
“Sure, ‘Trapper.’” He clearly disapproved of my name.
“See you later, sweetie,” Emmeline said, and kissed him.
As he walked away, she said, “Sorry about that.”
“No big,” I said, wrapping my hands around her shoulders. A pre-Emmeline Trapper would have felt a little hurt at being dismissed; new-Trapper didn’t actual y give a shit about testosterone-ridden, social y inept Jersey kids. “Did you notice how he just grabbed your stomach, rather than saying hi?”
“He always does that. I think he has a thing for my tummy.”
“You should wear a crop-top for him, or a half-shirt. So that next time, he wil get a hand ful of skin.” She looked thoughtful at that, and didn’t answer. I realized why: she liked him! Him! There
When she had explained the math problem to nobody’s satisfaction, she stood and stretched. The seated student jumped to his feet, put his hands on her waist, and gave her a kiss. Then she kissed her first friend again, and final y broke free.
She shook her head with a broad smile.
“One side effect of al the rules,” she whispered, taking my hand, “is that I’m the most popular study partner in the class. Everybody but everybody needs my help.”
“They’re total y in love with you.”
She laughed. “I think they’re taking advantage of me.”
“That’s wonderful,” I said.
“Yeah. No! I mean, did you see them? According to our rules, I have to talk to guys, and they picked up on that rule in the first thirty seconds. They sensed that I wasn’t saying ‘no’ to anything. So they’re always talking to me about the assignments and asking for help with their essays. I should get paid as a teacher’s assistant for al the guys in class.”
“Oh. I thought they were taking advantage because they’re touching or kissing you al the time.”
“Probably that too,” she shrugged. “The kissing is easy. I’l have to take your word about the touching.”
“No kidding? You didn’t notice them taking epic feels off you?”
“Not any more than usual,” she said. “I mean, since I started wearing these little dresses, I have no personal space.
I’ve noticed that other girls have two or three feet between them and the guys they talk with. I have about four inches, at most. Usual y I’m skin-to-skin with everybody. It’s nothing serious, I got used to it pretty fast.”
“That’s so hot,” I said.
“But for me, it’s business as usual.”
“That’s what’s so hot about it.”
The next day, we went to the Student Union for cokes. Carol was wearing a short, flower-print dress with leather shoes, and looking quite enticing about it. As I studied her shape inside her translucent dress, a hand came sliding around her waist.
The hand, flat-palmed on my girlfriend’s body, went on a journey across her torso, catching a stupefying feel along the way. It came to rest on her stomach, a little below her bel y button.
My dick was hard enough hammer out dents in cars.
I tracked the hand back to a young, Guido-looking Jersey guy with an open col ar and gold chains around his neck. His face was mere inches away from hers, and his toothsome smile made me think of a man-eating shark.
“Emmeline,” he said, “have you given any thought about tonight? Or tomorrow night? Or the night after? Or ever?”
“I’l tel you later,” she said. “This is Trapper, my boyfriend.”
“Oh, hey,” he said, backing off. He met my eyes with a hard stare, as if I wanted to steal his food.
“Hi!” I held out my hand, and he took it, suspicious.
Emmeline said, “Trapper, this is my friend from class. He wants to take me out to dinner.”
I smiled at him. “Just make sure it’s a nice place. Emmeline deserves the best.”
He nodded uncertainly. He was, obviously and reasonably, confused by Emmeline and me.
“Sure, ‘Trapper.’” He clearly disapproved of my name.
“See you later, sweetie,” Emmeline said, and kissed him.
As he walked away, she said, “Sorry about that.”
“No big,” I said, wrapping my hands around her shoulders. A pre-Emmeline Trapper would have felt a little hurt at being dismissed; new-Trapper didn’t actual y give a shit about testosterone-ridden, social y inept Jersey kids. “Did you notice how he just grabbed your stomach, rather than saying hi?”
“He always does that. I think he has a thing for my tummy.”
“You should wear a crop-top for him, or a half-shirt. So that next time, he wil get a hand ful of skin.” She looked thoughtful at that, and didn’t answer. I realized why: she liked him! Him! There
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