Desire - Chapter 2

Amaya slung the backpack on her shoulder and went into her dorm. She still had reservations about leaving her old bag there but she wasn’t about to break the rules now. The young woman was feeling a kind of high that she hadn’t felt since winning a tennis match. It made the ache in her limbs only seem inconvenient.

Her unexpected victory today had another effect: it made Amaya incredibly aroused. Despite her bad shape, she had still won! It was the first really good thing that had happened to her since starting college and the best thing was, she had earned it all herself. She was feeling so turned on and excited, the adrenaline racing straight to her libido.

Amaya went to her dorm room and shut the door. Helen still wasn’t there and Amaya was relieved. She quickly stripped out of her wet shirt and put on a much darker shirt. Her nipples were aching and Amaya moaned as she felt the dry shirt slid over them. She hadn’t been this aroused since the last time she had sex with John.

When Amaya pulled down her pants, she was amazed at how wet she was. She touched herself and shuddered. Sensitive to the slightest touch, her pussy felt terribly empty. Standing in front of her dresser, Amaya stroked herself once.

She stroked herself twice and wondered what kind of a man Wesley was.

Amaya stroked herself and wondered what he would do with her sweaty panties and bra.

Amaya stroked herself and wondered if any of the guys who saw her today was thinking of her now.

She had a climax within a minute of stroking. Amaya cried out before remembering how thin the walls were. She bit her lip and kept stroking. She had another climax was almost instantly.

And another

And another

Amaya pulled up her pants and sat down on her bed with the reddest blush. She prayed that Helen wouldn’t walk in right now. The room smelled of sex and sweat and Amaya knew she wouldn’t be able to deny masturbating. She opened a window and turned on the fan and hoped the smell would fade.

The backpack caught her eye and she wondered about the trade she made. She picked it up to examine it and found a startling surprise inside. The backpack was stuffed with bras and panties of multiple colors.

Amaya looked in amazement as she pulled out a rainbow of bras. The bras were in different sizes, an equal amount that centered on a C-cup. About ten of them fit her and Amaya realized Wesley must have guessed her size. Amaya felt a guilty pleasure in finally owning the colored underwear that she had always wanted as well as the decadent manner in which she earned them.

She examined the panties next and noticed something right away. They were all thongs. Purple, green, black, blue, pink and white; they were all thongs.

Amaya tried a green one on and moaned as the tight string slipped between her buttocks. The thong was tight and every time she took a step, the thong pressed against her sex. Amaya was still sensitive from her masturbating but in a good way. She took a few steps and shivered. The thongs were hedonistic and were going to be distracting but Amaya was looking forward to the adventure.

Her stomach growled and Amaya smiled. It was time to collect her real reward. Amaya wondered if Wesley would be at the restaurant he recommended. Perhaps the mystery man was waiting for her.

She decided to find out.

Amaya woke from a strange dream and turned off her alarm. Helen hadn’t budged from her bed. Amaya took a moment to wake up and realized that this was the first morning in weeks that she didn’t have to have crackers for breakfast. That was when she remembered everything that had happened yesterday.

When she rolled out of bed, she felt her thong tug on her pubic hair. For a brief second she wondered if her memories of yesterday had been a dream but the thong dispelled that idea. While waiting for her financial aid, Amaya had dreamed of receiving her money almost every night. The disappointment that accompanied waking up had become a habit. Now, as Amaya dug into the take-out box of refried rice that was left over from last night, she realized that she didn’t have to wake up disappointed ever again.

On the other hand, there was the disappointment of last night. Amaya had gone to the restaurant that Wesley had recommended but she didn’t see him. Well, she couldn’t even be sure of that. She saw one handsome guy sitting alone at a table but he never looked at her. Amaya kept waiting for Wesley to appear and come to her table but after a half-hour, she had to admit she wasn’t coming. At least the food was good.

She selected a purple bra to wear today along with a black Sailor Moon t-shirt. Amaya picked the shirt in case Wesley had her getting sweaty again. The thong tugged against her sex and she was surprised to find herself already wet. She briefly wondered if Wesley would make her get sweaty on a more intimate level.

Amaya’s eyes widened as she realized where her thoughts were headed. It was foolish of her. All she knew of Wesley was that he was willing to give starving co-eds money in exchange for their underwear. She remembered how he knew she used to be in the tennis squad, which meant he had done some research on her. All of Amaya’s common sense told her that Wesley was a stalker at the very least if not something meaner and potentially nastier.

“But he had such a nice voice,” Amaya whispered in the early morning. He did have a nice voice. Deep, kind and just a little Southern, Amaya had warmed up to him instantly despite his strange commands. He was encouraging and he didn’t gloat at having her do things. Amaya felt like he was pulling for her, even though he was the one setting the game.

“God, I must be lonely,” Amaya said. She reminded herself that this was just a game and that she was going to quit as soon as it got weird or dangerous. Three hundred dollars was enough to carry her till her check came in. There was no need to get any more involved than she was with this stranger.

Amaya headed to the showers and tried to put Wesley in the back of her mind. All the money he could offer wasn’t as important as getting her mind back onto her classes. She reasoned that he might not even call today, he certainly didn’t specify.

Amaya took the cell phone to the shower anyway, just in case.

The classes dragged that day. Amaya was usually an excellent student but she found her attention wondering. Professors talked but Amaya didn’t hear what they were saying. Each professor was a possible suspect for the mysterious Wesley. Was it Professor Gering who always called on her first? Could it be Professor Rendell who had the same accent as Wesley? Amaya watched each one carefully but couldn’t find any clue that they might be her benefactor.

The thong was another sweet distraction. Amaya didn’t know how women wore them everyday. For her, the thong’s constant tugging of between her buttocks and the tight pull against her pubic hair was like foreplay. By her second class, Amaya was squirming in her chair and fighting the urge to slip a finger between her thighs.

All day long she kept the cell phone on her hip but it never rang. Amaya was tempted to call Wesley herself but she didn’t know if it was allowed. She was too afraid of jinxing the game to try.

Amaya hated how badly she wanted him to call. She knew that it was her fault. Most of her friends had gone to State but her scholarship was from here. Amaya had entered this college without friends and despite what popular television would have you believe, making friends in college was not easy. Most students assumed she was a foreign exchange student and treated her more like a curiosity than a person.

She had lunch at McDonald’s just because she could afford it. French fries never tasted so good. As a child, Amaya had horrified her mother with her preference for chicken nuggets. Now with a purse full of money that she had earned, Amaya ordered a twenty pack just so she would have more than she could possibly eat.

When her classes were over, Amaya headed back to her dorm. She had high hopes for what might be in her mailbox. It could be another package. It could be a mailed request to start her on another game. Amaya checked her mailbox and sighed when she didn’t see anything from Wesley.

It was halfway up the stairs that she realized that there wasn’t a financial aid check either.