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Obviously, since I had been out of school so much, I needed to make up a lot of work, and I was staying after school nearly every day. Too bad my teacher decided to meet with me during lunch that day, and I decided not to call my mom, but just to read in the library. That was mistake number three. He came into the library and sat down next to me, and began to work on the computer. I would occassionlly watch him, but he would close any files when I looked. He then left the building for two minutes. I quietly read, minding my own business. He came back inside, I guess he had been looking to see if anyone was out there. I grabbed my arm and told me to come with him. I refused, with a smile, telling him to cut it out. He didn’t listen. It was cold out there, but my fate was even colder and crueler. He pulled me into the woods, and I meekly followed, since he was a lot stronger than me. I had a boyfriend at the time. A nice fellow. He had a strange name, but that didn’t bother me. So. She’d smile at him, just a little, as he passed, like he was just a blip on her radar screen. But when he turned, there was no embarrassment in his expression. There was no awkwardness in his body language. In fact, he radiated that same quiet confidence, that insistence, that was the defining characteristic of his voice. His eyes rested on hers for a moment, and then floated down her body, frankly appraising her modest dress, her curves, and then resting again on her face. His expression went from mild curiosity to mild realization, and a subtly lurid smile touched the corners of his mouth. She felt like a deer in headlights, unable to move. The flush of embarrassment that should have been his rose in her own neck and cheeks. He knew she’d been listening. Somehow he knew everything. ‘Yes darling. Now I want you to touch.’ And oh, that voice, and his eyes, and the thought of that woman touching herself for him on the other end of the line, her legs open, gleaming naked and wanton.
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