Amiga ISO Collection/AmigaDemoCD2.iso/ASCII/TEXTE/SEX/ADULTSHARE/O/OBSESSED.TXT

Text File | 1994-03-26 | 22.0 KB | 451 lines

@BEGIN_FILE_ID.DIZ
Subject: Obsessed,pt.1(ff)@END_FILE_ID.DIZ


                             Obsessed

    I am jolted awake by the insistent buzz of my alarm.  Dawn is
just arriving, gradually illuminating my third-floor dormitory room
through closed blinds.  It is just after six.  With a groan, I throw back
the covers and rise from the bed.  Why did she insist on leaving so
early?  My body protests as I leave the room and plod down the hallway to
the bathroom.  The tiled floor is cold.  My bare feet slap against it.
Why don't they put in carpet?

    The bathroom is empty--no surprise this early on a Saturday
morning.  I grab my things from my open locker--who's going to steal
shampoo?--and head for the third shower stall.  The third stall is the
best one.  The water is the hottest and the towel hook is the only one
that actually works.

    I hang my towel and strip off my pajamas, leaving them in a pile
on the floor.  I turn the water on just below scalding and step under the
spray.  All traces of sleep immediately vanish from my body.  The stall
quickly fills with steam.  For several minutes I stand there, turning
periodically so the water hits every inch of me.  Then I grab the soap.

    When the hot water begins to run out, I am forced to turn it
off.  I step out and dry myself with the towel.  When I have dried all
but my hair, I wrap myself in the towel, grab my pyjamas and head back to
my room.  I am glad that Alicia is not there--she slept at her
boyfriend's again--because I can use the hair dryer without fear of
waking her.

    My hair does not take long to dry--it is shorter than shoulder
length.  When I have combed it, I drop the towel and search for clothes
to wear.  Dress warmly, she said.  I end up in jeans and a heavy wool
sweater over a long-sleeved shirt.  In a duffel bag, I pack my pyjamas,
extra panties and bra, an extra shirt, socks, and various toiletries.
Everything I need for an overnight trip.

    The walk to Stacy's doesn't take long.  My pace is fast, for as
always I look forward to seeing her.  Today even more than usual.  It
baffles me how I can feel so strongly about her.  Nothing I've felt,
for a man or a woman, has ever compared.  I think back to the first time
I ever saw her...

                 *             *              *

    It was the first football game of my freshman year in college.
Of course I had to go.  A group of us from the dorms went.  We had only
known each other a couple of days, but all were eager to make friends.

    It was similar to the games in high school, only on a much larger
scale.  All the students sat together, cheering wildly for the home team
although many of them, myself included, didn't really know what was going
on.  We sat up near the front, which isn't a very good spot for a
football game but the only one available by the time we arrived.  I was
flanked by Alicia, my roommate, on my left and Peter, a guy who lived
down the hall from me, on my right.

    The cheerleaders began the game at the opposite end of the field
from us, but I didn't really notice or care.  At some point they came and
did their cheers almost directly in front of us, but I didn't pay
attention until Alicia nudged me.

    "Look at that guy," she said, pointing to the one on the extreme
left.  "Isn't he cute?"

    I looked over and saw that yes, he was cute.  But then I saw his
partner, the girl he lifted above his head from time to time during the
cheers.  I saw her in that very position, her right arm raised above her
head and a brilliant smile on her face.  The guy held her up in the
typical cheerleader fashion, his hand under her skirt on her ass.

    I can't say that I loved her at first sight, though it was
definitely the most intense case of infatuation I'd ever felt.  She was
dazzling in every way.  Her face was the embodiment of beauty--I can
hardly describe it.  It wore a smile as all the other cheerleaders' did,
but hers was different.  It did not look forced in any way.  Tied into
her hair on top of her head was a bright yellow ribbon, matching the
yellow and white outfit she wore, our school's colors.  The hair was dark
brown, almost approaching black.  It stretched down her back nearly to
her waist.

    Every part of her skin that showed was tanned the same golden
brown color.  The short yellow skirt offset her skin color nicely.  Her
arms and legs were slim and toned, no evidence of even the tiniest bit of
excess fat.  The uniform she wore was stretched taut over her chest, her
breasts a pair of perfectly round globes straining to be freed.

    I took in all of this in a single glance.  It surprised me that I
was so greatly affected, though not because she was female.  I had been
attracted to many females in the past.  In fact, my first crush had been
on a girl in my sixth grade class.  My sexual preference seemed to
fluctuate for no apparent reason.  At times I would crave the strength
and powere of a man, yet at other times I would long for the soft touch
of another woman.  Several times I had ended relationships because I
could no longer stand intimacy with a man.  I had not felt repulsed by
men at that point, at least not until I saw her.

    Alicia broke me out of my daze with a jab to the side.  "Hey,
Jamie!  Did you hear me?"

    "I'm sorry, what?"

    "I said, do you think I should go meet him after the game?"

    "Whatever, if you want."  I was rude to her, but I didn't want
her to bother me.  I spent the rest of the game watching Stacy and her
partner.  Every time he lifted her, I dreamed of being the one to hold
her up.  I dreamed of how her sweet ass would feel against my hand.
Every time her skirt twirled up and revealed her white panties, I dreamed
of slipping my hands inside them and touching her furry center.

    When the game ended, I regretfully left with my friends.
However, I knew I would see her again the following weekend.  And I would
be sure to sit up close.

    That night, after Alicia had gone to sleep, I slipped a hand
inside my pajama bottoms and slowly brought myself to a remarkable
orgasm.  While my thumb circled my clit, my thoughts were filled with
Stacy's body.  I imagined myself licking every part of her, feeling her
skin pressed against mine, her lips against mine.  It was difficult for
me to remain silent, but I managed out of fear of waking Alicia.  My
dreams that night and for many nights to come were filled with Stacy.

              *            *            *

    My knock is answered quickly.  Stacy is there, wearing a black
and red checkered wool shirt tucked in to a pair of brown shorts.  The
shorts are rolled up on her thighs.

    "Hi, Jamie," she says, cheerful as always.  "Come in.  I'm almost
ready to go."

    I enter her apartment and she shuts the door behind me.  On the
floor I see laid out a pair of backpacks and all the gear to go with them.

    "You can use this one," Stacy says, indicating the smaller of the
two packs.  "Since you've never been backpacking before, I'll carry most
of the stuff.  You can carry your clothes plus your sleeping bag."

    That's fine with me.  I know she is stronger than me, anyway.
While I watch, she makes final preparations for the trip.  She fills the
packs with all the gear then straps on the sleeping bags and the tent.
My pack looks huge, even though it's smaller than hers.  I wonder what
I've gotten myself into.

    We carry the packs to her car and get in.  She tells me it's
about an hour drive to the trailhead, and that if I want to sleep it's
okay.  I don't really, but my reminiscing has gotten me in the mood for
more, so I close my eyes and think back to how I got to know her...

        *        *        *

    It turned out that I saw her a lot sooner than the next football
game.  Classes began the Monday after I had first seen her.  I arrived
early for my 9 a.m. math class and sat near the front of the class.  I
wasn't doing anything in particular, just watching people come into the
classroom, when I suddenly froze.

    It was her.  She was wearing tattered cut-offs and a t-shirt.  A
wave of desire passed over me.  I was instantly wet.  I've always gotten
extremely wet at the slightest arousal, more of a curse than a blessing,
really.  I went through underwear faster than most, and once the arousal
is gone, the damp feeling is unpleasant.

    She sat a couple rows in front of me and to my left.  The room
was a lecture hall, so the seats were like those in a movie theater.
Thus, I could only see her from the shoulders up.  I marvelled at how
straight and shiny her hair was.  I had trouble concentrating on the
professor the whole period.  Instead, I watched her the whole time,
catching a glimpse of her face whenever she turned her head to the side.

    That class met three times a week, so I was able to see her quite
often.  I always made sure to be in class early so I could see where she
sat.  She generally sat in the same area, so I did as well.  I would
never have found the courage to speak to her, but as it turned out, I
didn't have to.

    About three weeks into the semester, we had our first exam.  The
class period before the test, she sat next to me for the first time.  All
thoughts of math were gone from my head.  Trying not to be obvious, I
spent much time staring at her legs.  She was wearing shorts, as always.
So wrapped up in them was I, that I didn't notice when the class ended.

    I was brought back to reality by the sound of her voice.  "Hi,
what's your name?"  she asked me.

    She was speaking to me!  "Jamie," I managed to reply.

    "You want to study together for the test, Jamie?  I could really
use some help."

    I couldn't believe my luck.  "Of course."

    "Great.  Let me give you my address."  She wrote it down on a
piece of paper and handed it to me.  "Why don't you come by about 8?"

    "Okay, I'll see you then," I said.  She got up and left the
room.  I hungrily watched her ass move beneath her shorts as she walked.

    I agonized that evening over what to wear.  I wanted to look
good, but it couldn't be too provocative, because she just wanted to
study.  To me it was much more, but I would never presume to make any
sort of advance.  Besides, at that point my interest in her was entirely
physical.  I didn't know her at all.

    I eventually decided a simple, knee-length skirt would be best.
I didn't want to wear pants because I was afraid I would soak through
them by the end of the night.  I knew that just being in the same room as
her for that long would be torture.  I didn't wear panties under the
skirt, figuring they would just get soaked anyway.

    I arrived at her apartment shortly before 8.  I knocked, and when
no answer came after a while I knocked again.  Puzzled, I was about to
leave when I heard her voice come from inside.

    "Coming!" she yelled.  I had expected to be turned on when i saw
her, but what I got was more than I was prepared for.  She opened the
door and stood there soaking wet, wrapped in a towel.

    "Sorry," she said, "I'm just getting out of the shower.  Make
yourself at home, I'll be out in a few minutes."

    Then she headed back to the bathroom.  The towel was short,
barely covering her ass in back.  I felt like I would die if I didn't get
some kind of relief.  When the bathroom door shut, I went and sat down on
the couch, being careful not to catch my skirt between my legs as I did
so.  I spread out my math materials on the coffee table and waited for
her to return.  I wanted desperately to reach up under my skirt and
pleasure myself, but I knew that I would not have time to complete the
job before she returned.

    As I'd expected, that night was pure torture.  I tried my best to
concentrate on math, since we did have a test coming up, but I couldn't
ignore the constant throbbing in my cunt.  Once I overcame my initial
shyness, I discovered that Stacy was very nice.  We talked like we'd
known each other for a long time.  By the time we were through studying,
I had a new problem.

    I won't say I fell in love with her that night, because I think
that takes a long time, but the process did start.  I left not only
needing to see more of her, but needing to know her better as well.  I
couldn't be sure how she saw me, but she seemed friendly.  Every time she
smiled, a new wave of desire would hit me.  My thighs were smeared with
my fluid.  I was afraid she would smell it, but she didn't appear to.

    I practically ran home when we had finished, eager to experience
the orgasm I'd been waiting for all night.  Alicia was awake in the room
when I got home, so I went to the bathroom and locked myself in one of
the stalls.  I put down the toilet seat and sat down, hiking my skirt up
around my waist.  Then my fingers were a flurry of activity, stroking my
clit and thrusting up into my cunt.  It was a short time before I came,
suppressing a moan and arching my back.  The orgasm was huge, waves of
pleasure radiating out from my center.  My only thought then was when I
would get to see her next.

    As the semester progressed, Stacy and I became quite close
friends.  We not only studied together, but hung out together often on
weekends.  One of her favorite activities was to go dancing at a local
pub.  She always flirted heavily with the guys.  It made me insanely
jealous, but I had to hide it.  There was no justification for it--in her
mind we were close friends, and she had no idea that I would even want
something more.

        *        *        *

    We arrive at the trailhead at seven-thirty. She tells me it
usually isn't very crowded, so we won't have to deal with many other
people.  There is one car there when we arrive.

    I find the air a bit chilly, even through my heavy sweater.

    "Aren't you cold?" I ask, indicating her shorts.

    "No, I always hike in shorts.  I'm used to it.  Here--take this."

    She hands me my pack from out of the car.  I put it on, and take
a couple of steps to adjust to the weight.  The straps dig into my shoulders.

    "You have to fasten the waist belt," she says.  She walks over
and grabs the two parts of the belt hanging loose from the pack.  She
pulls them tight and fastens them together in front of me.

    "Thanks," I say.  The weight is more evenly distributed now,
between my hips and my shoulders.  Stacy puts on her pack, and says,
"Ready?"  I nod, and follow her off down the trail.

    It's difficult to talk while hiking in single file, so I spend my
time instead staring at her ass swaying back and forth as she walks.  My
thoughts drift back to the first time I ever saw her drunk...

        *        *        *

    I took a sip from my beer and grimaced, a process I'd repeated
numerous times over the previous hour.  It was only my second beer--I'd
never been a big drinker, and had never gotten used to the taste.  It
seemed that everyone around me had no problems with it, though.

    The party was huge.  It was put on by some fraternity, I didn't
know which.  It'd been Stacy's idea to come to it.  Speaking of Stacy, I
thought, I hadn't seen her in a while.  I scanned the room looking for
her, but she was nowhere to be seen.  I wandered through the rest of the
house trying to find her, and finally succeeded.

    She was in the kitchen standing next to the keg, talking to some
guy I didn't know.  I walked over to her.

    "Jamie!  Hi!  Meet my new friend!  This is Roger."  It was
obvious that she was more than a bit tipsy.  I ignored Roger.

    "Stacy, are you okay?  How much have you drank?"

    "I'm not fine.  I'm great!  Watch this!"  She brought her cup,
about half full of beer, to her lips and drained it in one long gulp.
Then she went immediately to the keg and refilled it.  "Try it, Jamie!"

    "No thanks," I said.  "I'm just fine."

    "Suit yourself.  Hey!  Did you know Roger here belongs to this
frat?  Isn't that cool?"

    "Yeah, whatever Stacy."  I patted her on the shoulder and walked
away.  I didn't particularly enjoy watching her make a fool of herself,
though Roger didn't seem to mind.  I decided I should keep an eye on
her--no telling what could happen if she got too drunk.

    At the start of the evening, I had been thrilled by her choice of
clothes, but now I was beginning to think it wasn't so smart after all.
She was dressed in a tight black miniskirt and a white halter top,
leaving her midriff bare.  Those clothes attracted too much attention for
my taste.  I hated seeing her get pawed all over my guys she didn't even
know.

    I watched Stacy and Roger from a safe vantage point in the next
room.  Her back was to me.  He ran his hand down her back and patted her
ass lightly through her skirt.  I was disgusted, but she obviously
wasn't.  She just laughed, and stepped a little closer to him.  Taking
this as encouragement, his hand returned to her ass, gripping it this
time and holding on.  I silently pleaded for her to break away, but to no
avail.  She let him hold on, and wrapped her arms around his waist.  He
leaned down and whispered something in her ear.

    She stepped away from him, and for an instant I thought she was
rejecting him.  However, she drained her cup of beer then refilled it,
then took Roger by the hand and led him out of the kitchen.  I moved to
where I would not be seen as they passed through the room, then followed
to see where they were going.  To my dismay, she led him up the stairs.

    I was in a dilemma.  I didn't know what to do.  It was really
none of my business what she did with him, but I didn't want her to get
hurt.  Still, I knew she would get mad if I interfered.

    I decided a little more beer would lighten me up a bit, and my
problems wouldn't matter so much.  I started drinking faster, hoping to
lose my worries to the alcoholic haze.  It worked.

    A half-hour later, Stacy and Roger were still upstairs, but I
didn't care quite as much.  I think a drunk female is like a magnet for
guys, because once they saw me down a cup of beer, they began to take
more notice.  One came up and introduced himself.  I didn't hear his
name, but it didn't matter.  I decided I could have a little fun and it
wouldn't do any harm.

    We sat on the couch, and his hands were quickly exploring my
body, testing the limits.  I let him fondle my breasts through my shirt,
and to my surprise, I was becoming quite aroused.  He then tried to push
it a little farther, untucking my shirt from my jeans and slipping his
hand up under it.  I didn't resist, and his hand cupped my breast through
my bra.

    I would have let him go further, but at that moment Stacy came
back downstairs.  There was an obvious cum-stain on her skirt, but she
didn't seem to notice.  She walked a bit unsteadily, holding on to things
to keep her balance.  Needless to say, the guys moved in for the kill.

    She latched on to one of them and his hands were all over her
immediately.  He reached up inside her skirt and she squealed with
delight.  I no longer had any interest in the guy beside me.  I
extricated myself from his grasp and followed Stacy and her guy upstairs.

    I wasn't sure exactly what I was going to do, but I had to follow
them anyway.  They went into a bedroom and closed the door behind them.
I put my ear to the door and listened.  For a while there was nothing,
but then I heard Stacy moaning softly in a regular rhythm.  I knew what
was going on.

    Strangely, I didn't find myself feeling repulsed by that
knowledge.  It must have been the alcohol, but for some reason the
thought of Stacy spreading her legs wide to receive a long, hard cock was
getting me hot.

    They were both making enough noise that I thought I could open
the door a crack to see what was going on.  I slowly turned the door
knob, being careful to make no sound, then opened the door the tiniest
bit so I could peek through.

    Luckily for me, they were both facing away from the door.  Stacy
was on her hands and knees on the bed, and the guy was standing behind
her.  He was gripping her at the waist, pulling her forward as he
thrusted into her.  She grunted with every thrust.

    My desire fed off Stacy's.  As she got closer and closer to an
orgasm, I got more and more aroused, and I had to do something.  Ignoring
the fact that I was in plain view of anyone who came upstairs, I slipped
a hand down the front of my jeans and started masturbating.

    I timed it perfectly so that her orgasm triggered mine.  She
stiffened on the bed momentarily, then ground her pelvis against him
roughly, letting out a series of high-pitched squeals.  He pulled out of
her cunt and let his semen fly all over her back.  At the same time, I
clenched my hand tightly between my legs and grabbed the doorjam for
support.  My climax continued as Stacy's faded.  An involuntary moan
escaped my lips, and the guy looked up.

    He had heard!  Quickly, I ran to the bathroom and shut the door
behind me.  I waited there for several minutes until I thought it was
safe, then i came out.  Just as I did, Stacy was coming out of the bedroom.

    "Jamie!" she cried, as though she hadn't seen me in years.

    "Come on, Stacy, we're going home."  I grabbed her by the arm and
led her downstairs and out of the party.  She protested mildly, but was
too drunk to really care.  I took her home and made sure she got into bed
okay.

    The next day, predictably, Stacy was quite sick.  When I asked
her what she remembered about the party, she said, "All I remember is
drinking a lot.  Oh, and there was this guy.  Oh, Jamie, I didn't do
anything with him did I?"

    She seemed terrified that she might have.  I decided it was best to
lie.  "No, of course you didn't.  I didn't let you."

    "What would I do without you!  You're a great friend, Jamie."

        *        *        *

To Be Continued...



DISCLAIMER:   I did not write this story,  nor do I condone its actions.
These files were archived several months ago,  it is now time to kill
the archive,  I am posting and then deleting these files.  requests
for reposting will be ignored.  - These stories belong to whomever they
belong to.  enjoy!