1. Dirty Girl Interrupted


    Date: 9/21/2015, Categories: College Sex, Author: Metilda, Rating: 23, Source: LushStories

    leaving—and then it was just the two of us. “I don’t know why you’re standing there as if we’re going to have some sort of a heart-warming conversation over coffee.” I snarked at him, full of fight. He stood straight, the jagged sweeps of hair falling over one eye. “I just wanted you to know it’s no big deal... Don’t avoid me just because I—” I took a loud sip of my coffee, drowning out his words. He rolled his eyes and leaned against the door frame. “Don’t be a baby. It’s not that big of a deal.” “Yeah sure. To you it’s not a big deal.” I drained the last of my coffee and stood to chunk the mug in the sink. “Well... I know you’re upset and I get that. It’s just—” “Nothing!” I angrily wiped crumbs from the table and tossed them in the trash as I talked. “It’s nothing, okay? You saw me with my legs spread, on the couch, naked and fucking myself with a glass dildo. No big whoop. I’ve cleaned up your vomit and wiped your ass when you were too sick to think straight. Call it even.” Shoving past him, I stopped and turned, getting in his face. “I don’t need a lecture on why it’s okay to masturbate. Just don’t tell anybody.” I stalked off... and right as I got to my door he called out, stopping me with a cold sweat. “They already know.” A chill had raced out to my fingers before he even finished those shitty words. I stood still, just listening to him as he rattled out an explanation: he wasn’t alone: Jasper was with him, and so was Trevor. Fuck me. Trevor... My ex. Chapter 3 I ...
    think summing things up by saying I couldn’t function after that would be quite adequate. I tripped over my feet, skinned my knee like a little kid, banged my head on a table which promised to become a nasty welt. By the time I made it home I was none the better educated but all the more aggravated and exhausted. To top it off, I tried to relax by getting coffee in a shop off campus but the guy in front of me smelled like a goddamn office supply store. Not in a bad way, but that lovely way with the scent of ink and reams of paper. Then suddenly my hormones were in full swing, that cut-short, dissatisfied no-good ending to a toy session that I had looked forward to for weeks rushed back right as he was ordering. His voice was a deep buttery sort and I found myself deep in a fantasy—me and the stranger fucking on the coffee-shop counter. Oblivious to my smutty thoughts, to how well-endowed I imagined he was—the man ordered and paid and, moments later, walked past me. I had this heavy, intense, almost blinding urge to reach out for him—to touch him, that chill of a business shirt sleeve—and strip his clothes off. I had to genuinely resist the compulsion to do so. Instead of molesting a stranger, I watched him leave. Goddamn Trace! Dirty Girl! Dirty Girl! I suddenly needed nothing more than to get back home because like hell I could survive the rest of the day like this, I had already lost my mind. God knows what I would do next. Going home wasn’t a thrilling idea... but I needed to ...
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