Date: Mon, 15 Feb 2010 02:56:27 -0700 From: ecclectic_soul@hotmail.com Subject: Secret Admirer: Chapter 2, The Note Hey everyone! Sorry for the wait! Like before, any similarities to real people or circumstances are merely coincidental. This story contains graphic sexual content which is not appropriate for minors. I hope you enjoy this next installment, and I'd love to get any feedback, encouragement, criticisms, etc. if you have any! Secret Admirer: Chapter 2, The Note "Secret admirer is the Disney calling card for a stalker, Cynth." Ever since that strange night at Pine Peak Bar when what bar back Mike tagged as a `guy in a dumb jacket' dropped fifty dollars for our tab without so much as a hi, my best friend Cynthia was like a chipmunk on helium. "Oh my God, oh my God, oh...my...GOD!" Her familiar dog whistle squeal made me wince. "I'm so excited for you! I've never had a secret admirer, but they give so many gifts and love letters..." "...and visits in the middle of the night with masks and sharp objects. We don't even know who he is! All we know is that he apparently has no style." I was determined to steer Cynthia off this track. We were sitting toward the back in European History, the only class we shared. It was held in a semi-circle lecture hall with Mr. Mendel, our apathetic professor who always droned on as if he had lost all hope in humanity. Luckily, if you received good grades (which we did), he rewarded you by letting you do whatever you wanted to during class. Cynthia and I jotted down a comment he made about French Victorian politics before quietly continuing our conversation. "I think you're just afraid of someone liking you that much." "Well of course I am! Haven't you ever read the Stalker Handbook?" I teased. "No, but I'll be sure to check it out sometime." Cynthia rolled her eyes before turning back to the presentation. Just then, the door to the class opened, drawing everyone's curious eyes. In stepped... I gasped softly, blushing in shock. It was Hazel Eyes, the new boyfriend of snotty Hannah Remington...and one of the two people I couldn't get off my mind. I had tried to banish those full lips and hypnotic eyes out of my thoughts, but it seemed impossible. I mentally slapped myself for having it in for yet another straight guy. To make matters worse, instead of the letterman's jacket and jeans he wore to the bar the other night, he had opted for signature dark wash Buckle jeans and a white button-down shirt with a gray and black argyle sweater over it. In short, he had in the space of a minute just graduated from merely hot to dangerously attractive. I sank slowly down into my seat, trying to distract the growing feeling in my pants by reciting my notes. Cynthia glanced over at me and stifled a small giggle. "Uh, you look like you have indigestion." "I'm fine." "It would make sense if you did. Hannah's boyfriend just had to transfer to our class, didn't he? Are we being punished for something we did in a past life? It's moments like these that I wish I had brought a cocktail to class. Or that my boyfriend was in the mafia. Oh well, I guess it could be worse...or not. What's wrong, Jay? What's with the my-ulcer-just-popped look?" "I'm fine." My impatient, will-you-please-stop tone caused her to tilt her head with confusion before rolling her eyes again and turning to peer down once more at the new student. Mr. Mendel motioned for him to find a seat, and then turned back to the overhead projector. His piercing eyes roamed the class before he took a lone seat a few rows down from us. But the distance did nothing to stop my dick from pushing stubbornly against the crotch of my jeans. It was painful as my heavy, hardening cock pulsed with the thought of his sexy crooked grin and that tight ass cresting the back of his pants. I adjusted my position, lifting my feet and placing them on the head of the chair in front of me. Damn it! I thought, mentally punching myself for the twentieth time that day. Cynthia's concerned whisper was at my ear. "Seriously though, are you okay? You keep getting that look." "Look?" I questioned with fake innocence. "Yeah faker, that look like someone just drop-kicked you in the gut. I know you too well for you to hide an expression like that." I sighed, shaking my head. "I'm alright. I guess I've been in kind of a funk lately. I'm not sure why, though." "Well, you better shake it off soon before I really drop-kick you in the gut. The game is tonight and we're having fun, whether you want to or not. Tommy is going to be there..." She trailed off, grinning wickedly. "Tommy Salami? I'd like to be able to walk a straight line this week, Cynth." We burst into hushed laughter, ducking down and covering our mouths as the teacher glanced up at us before telling the class about the next homework assignment. Tommy Salinger had been my on-and-off fuck buddy for about six months. His only redeeming quality, seeing as he had an ego the size of Alaska, was that he sported a massive cock to match. The reason he was on-and-off was because every time he fucked me, my ability to walk became on-and-off. That, and the only thing he could ever manage to talk about was himself. Class ended soon after, my spirits lifted as we reminisced and laughed about my awkward limp three weeks earlier. Grabbing my tan Aeropostale messenger bag and slinging it over my shoulder, I walked out with Cynthia among all the other chattering students. I didn't risk a look back at those hazel eyes for fear that I wouldn't be able to walk straight for another reason. We walked up a flight of stairs, since our classroom was on the basement level, and headed toward the entryway. Cynthia smiled happily over at me, glad to be out of our last class for the day, and then glanced down with a look of puzzlement in her bright blue eyes. "Hey, where's your textbook? Did you actually use your bag?" Her tone said she didn't believe that was possible. I stopped before the entryway doors, patting my bag to feel for the textbook inside. Naturally, it wasn't there. "Oh shit, I must've left it. Go outside and wait for me--I'll be right back!" I was already jogging down the stairs as I said this, hitting the hallway on the bottom floor at a run. Moving swiftly through the empty corridor, I sped around a corner and ran right into someone coming the opposite way. "Whoa there, buddy!" A deep voice exclaimed, chuckling softly. Oddly, that voice sent a chill of pleasure up my spine. I looked up, apology on my face as I opened my mouth to say sorry. I froze...couldn't speak...couldn't even breathe. Those same hazel eyes, now so close to my face, swam with flecks of gold that glimmered brightly as he smiled abashedly at me. Even in the sterile lights of the Core Humanities building, his skin still looked so warm. "Oh! I'm...God, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to...I wasn't paying attention! Sorry!" I finally clamped my lips shut, looking down as an embarrassed flush crept up my neck. "Hey, no worries! It was my fault, not watching where--" "No, no!" I laughed nervously. "I was like NASCAR around that corner, and--" "Nah, you're cool! I..." His voice trailed off as he cracked a grin and brushed his hand against the back of his neck. He cleared his throat. "Yeah...anyway, I gotta get going. Sorry again. But hey, I'll see you in class next week? I promise I won't clip you at the door." I couldn't help but laugh a little. "Yeah, same here. Uh...yeah, I'll see you Monday." I slipped around him before I could embarrass myself anymore and walked up to the classroom door. Chancing a quick glance back, I saw that he had gone with only the memory of his heart-stopping grin and sensually warm cologne left behind. I closed my eyes and shook my head, refusing to replay the awkward scenario that just took place. Enough, I told myself before stepping into the empty classroom. I ran up the stairs and down the aisle back to where I had been sitting. My forgotten textbook was on the ground propped up against the side of my chair. Sighing, I reached down and grabbed it. As I picked it up, a small envelope slipped from between the pages and fell at my feet. I didn't remember having marked my pages with anything, let alone empty envelopes. I swept it up off the floor, and turned it over in my hand, staring at both blank sides curiously. I started in surprise as I realized it was sealed; I definitely didn't bookmark my textbooks with mail. Pushing my index finger under the seal, I broke it and lifted the flap. Inside the envelope was a folded note. Looking around the empty classroom and wondering who was playing the joke, I sat down and unfolded the note. Ever since I first laid eyes on you, I can't get you out of my head. I want to run my hands over every inch of that perfect skin, force open those soft lips with my tongue, slipping my hands down your pants and massaging your tight little ass with my fingers. I want to feel you ride me, feel your hard cock pressing against mine. I want to slip inside you from every angle, make you beg for it, tease you with my hard cock until you can't stand it anymore. God baby, I'm strokin myself right now just thinking about it. All I want to do is fuck you so good you won't want it from anyone else ever again. If I can have that tight ass wrapped around my wet fuckin cock just once, I can die happy. You're all I want baby, and I'm gonna show you. I was speechless, letting my hand say the things I couldn't manage. My right hand had a tight, spit-soaked grip around my throbbing cock--I had never been so hard for anything in my life. My hand whipped across every slick inch of my dick, twisting across the pink head as I read the note over and over again. My imagination ran wild, imagining all the dirty things I wanted to do with this person, this man I had never seen or met but who I couldn't stop thinking about. I could feel it now, a sensation building at the base of my cock and deep in my balls. I squeezed my dick harder as I pumped my hips up and down, pushing all eight inches into the tight wet hole of my hand. Then, in the middle of an empty classroom holding a stranger's note with my jeans around my ankles, I shot the most intense cum I'd ever had, white ropes spewing from the head of my cock as I threw my head back and moaned. Shakily, I pulled my hand back and let my dick fall onto my thigh. I was gasping, not only for air but for an explanation...a sign that I was just dreaming and none of it was real. But all I had was an unsigned note, cum all over my legs in a classroom, and the knowledge that I was falling for someone I'd never even seen. One unsteady word escaped my lips, one that summed up the entirety of that moment. "Shit."