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I wanted to feel that skin, covered only by a black tank-top and leather skirt that hugged her legs down to her knees, her body was accentuated by those 4 inch red stilettos. She seemed to deflect others, skillfully moving around the bar until she knew she would be left alone with her dirty martini – a woman like that would drink a dirty martini – classy, yet with a mysterious bitterness that assaulted and caressed your tongue. She lifted the olive from the glass, perching it between her teeth…I could see her tongue moving over it slowly before she took it between her lips, painted red, sucking it into her mouth. I could feel myself getting hard just at the sight of her – that marvelous sight. I was almost afraid to imagine how good it might feel to approach her, to touch her, to be touched by her. That was absurd… I imagined her moving to the dance floor, my drunken eyes following her sleek form as she attempted to disappear into the crowd. She didn’t want the attention; she only. Wednesday morning, Joyce was directed to the ballroom in the StudentUnion building for class registration. There was already a large crowdof freshmen waiting by the time she showed up. She was handed a coursecatalog, and told to stand in one of lines, which were organizedalphabetically by last name. Her line was on the far side of the room.Melanie was a few spaces ahead of Joyce, but dropped back to join her.Her t-shirt today said 'I think I've finally lost my mind. If you seeit, don't tell it where I've gone'. Joyce spied Lauren standing near thehead of the queue. Looking around the room, Joyce spotted Jamie a fewrows away and waved to her; she smiled and waved back.The line moved slowly and while they waited, Joyce and Melanie lookedthrough the course catalog together. The curriculum for each majorseemed pretty rigidly set. They both found they had only a fewopportunities each semester for electives, and only a few classes tochoose between for those."At least that makes things easy,.
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