With your thong stashed in my room where no one should find it, I spend the rest of the day trying not to think about the crust dried on my chest. I still want to find you, but it feels like you’re intentionally avoiding me, maybe even watching me, waiting to surprise me with some other treat. At least now I know you live in the same building.Tuesday drones on until evening with nothing eventful and finally eating dinner in the cafeteria, I people-watch as I sip a warm cup of tea. I should have thought of staking out before, but hormones make my head turn to steam. I watch every woman who steps through the doors until they remove their coats and I can see they aren’t you.Every parka that escapes the cold outside Yozgat Escort with gusts of frigid wind and rustling leaves slipping inside makes might heart leap with hope. But every hood that’s removed disappoints. Now that I think about it, I’ve only ever seen you dressed appropriately and in a normal context once. Though my context at the time was butt naked and cumming on a window. . . .My face burns and I shake my head to clear it. I look around furtively, hoping no one else saw me through my window. I don’t remember anyone else being in the quad, but I only had eyes for you then.Tea growing cold in my cup, I drain it and take my dishes to the tray return, buttoning up my coat and marching Yozgat Escort Bayan through the cold back to my room. I replay last night’s excitement and think about your thong, hidden under my mattress. Maybe I can jerk into it? Though I won’t want to do that too many times without washing, and I don’t really want to wash it after what you did in it.I climb the staircase in the warmth and turn into my hall. Brushing past a few giggling girls going the other way, I see what they are laughing at. My door has a sock over the handle, which means I should wait in the hall or lounge for a while. At least this time, Eric remembered the sock.I fall onto the couch in the lounge and scroll through Escort Yozgat social media. I’ve never used them very much, but I like to have them to keep in touch with old friends when needed. As I glance over photos and skip social justice propaganda, people come and go, stomping on the stairs or letting the fire doors slam shut behind them. It’s noisy, but at least it will drown out the moaning from my room down the hall.I never think about Eric in that context, and until now, I’ve never thought about his girlfriend. Ever since her panty comment, I’ve seen her more as a sexual woman than just a face that shows up in my room too often.My heart starts to race. I really hope she doesn’t find your panty. She shouldn’t think it’s hers, but what if she did? I couldn’t care less what she thinks of me for having it, but I don’t want her to take it from me.What if she puts them on? My temples throb with my pulse, thinking of your juices mixing with hers, unbeknownst to her, of course.