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She was so incredibly smooth and soft, but there was an unmistakable firmness to her body.

I reached out as she worked, my hands enclosing her narrow waist and sliding up her body.

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Several unfortunate and demoralizing incidents throughout my high school days had made me quite socially passive. I learned later that she'd been both a gymnast and a ballerina growing up. The clasp had these strange designs on it, almost like waves in an ocean, and strategically placed little green gems. Because I spent fifty minutes every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday staring at the back of her head, that's how. I later found out that he'd gotten a ticket for speeding. Delaying the professor definitely fell into the category of public service.

I met Teresa (her friends called her Tessa) early in the first semester. Her body was beautifully proportioned, not exactly voluptuous, but slim and athletic. I made a mental note not to oink the next time I passed one of their cruisers. I got about halfway through when Tessa turned around.

My ankles were spread wide and bound to the bed posts via thick cords. I was so nervous and scared and wanted to beg off the whole thing, but something kept me silent. I came to college with two very achievable goals in my minds: getting my degree and getting laid. Computer science seemed as good a degree as any, and I'd had some light programming classes in high school. She was such a sweet and innocent thing, almost angelic, when I thought about it.

I was completely helpless, completely at her mercy. Something let the ass play continue and let the fucking to come draw closer.

But I soon discovered that in college those problems weren't nearly as prevalent.

Most people mistook this as snobbish and uptight, which was so not true! Total tripe, of course, but hey, I'll take what I can get.

I think they're multimillionaires, actually." She had an apartment paid for in full by someone else?

But she did smile at me, making eye contact with those deep blue eyes of hers.

There I was, leaned over the side of her bed, legs spread wide, bound and blindfolded. She'd put these bondage cuffs on my wrists and ankles; ones that had metal fasteners to either be clipped together or restrained to something else. She'd guided me to the bed, drunk and horny, and had maneuvered me into this mess. The oval black-rimmed glasses she wore gave her a wonderful air of sophistication and intellect. She'd wore this one before, a genuine silver article . My mind busily tried to conjure up some excuse to start talking to Tessa.

She'd stretched me forward, sprawled me over the bed and locked my bondage cuffs together and to something on the other side. But apparently, no one had informed her of this universal rule. * * * Like many episodes of exploration, experimentation, and discovery, this one started in college. Quiet and subdued, she was almost always smiling, as if the world at large delighted her. Now I just had to build up the courage to talk to her (and find an opening when our calculus professor wasn't droning on). I opened my calc book, rifled through it, glanced through my notes. I should have left some of the practice problems undone.

I was pretty sure she already had something picked out.

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