I first met her in a McDonald's in downtown Atlanta. I'd walked over there on my lunch break, intending to down some greasy, overcooked, under-flavored swill. The American way, right??
Anyway, this Mickey D's, located in the heart of the Georgia Tech area was always swamped at lunch. While I waited, I enjoyed the view in front of me. Two young, shapely female forms, obviously college girls. One blonde, one brunette. The blonde had short, boyish hair, while the brunette's was tightly curled in a perm, the kind popular about ten years ago. For some reason, I found it strangely appealing, and I continued to stare at both girls from behind -- but mostly the brunette -- as the line inched forward.
It was a hot summer day, the kind we get plenty of in Atlanta. My new friend was wearing short denim shorts and a white T-shirt, and I enjoyed the view of her shapely, well-defined legs and the ample curves of her ass as we waited for our cholesterol-laden meals.
Finally, the two co-eds reached the counter and placed their orders. The clerk slid two drink cups across the counter, and the blonde picked them up. "I'll get our drinks, Laurie. Diet, right?" she asked.
The brunette -- Laurie, I knew now -- nodded. "I'll wait for the bag, meet me out front."
In another minute or so, the clerk handed a brown McDonald's bag to Laurie, and I felt a flash of disappointment that I was going to lose my enjoyable view. She grabbed the bag and swiveled on her sandals to leave. I slid to the left to allow her room to pass; however, just as she started to step forward, so did a construction worker in the next line, trying to steal my spot at the register. Laurie didn't see him.
Her left foot came down awkwardly on his heavy construction boot, and she stumbled, the bag falling from her hand as she tripped forward.
On instinct, my right arm shot out and I caught Laurie around the waist, swinging her up and against the side of my body to keep her from falling. I felt the full weight of her breast pressing against my ribcage, and my cock swelled and throbbed inside my khakis.
"Whoa," I said, releasing my grip on her midsection and picking up her bag from the floor. "That was close!"
"Mmm hmmm," she said, taking the bag from me. "Nice catch," she said, smiling at me. Her light brown eyes sparkled with amusement, and I was captivated by them for a second.
"Oh, it was my pleasure," I said. Maybe I put too much emphasis on the "my," for she blushed, looking even cuter. Then she moved on through the crowd and out the door.
I ordered (and ate) my lunch in a daze, still imagining her blush and the feel of her body pressed against mine. I was useless the rest of the day, my mind filled with prurient thoughts of Laurie.
That night, I masturbated furiously as soon as I got home, picturing those eyes and imagining her lips wrapped around my cock.
It was the first time I'd felt alive -- truly alive -- since my divorce, nearly a year ago.
My marriage didn't even make it to the eleven-month mark. I came home early one day from work, intending to surprise Marla. I thought we might go to an early dinner and a movie, have one of those romantic nights like when we were dating.
She was surprised, all right. So was I.
And so was my neighbor Tim, who was furiously fucking my wife, doggy-style, Marla bent over the kitchen table.
Unbelievably, Tim pulled his dick out of Marla and actually tried to apologize to me. Apologize while he was standing there naked in my kitchen, his cock still hard and red and slick from my wife's pussy. I punched him in the mouth, knocking him to his bare ass on the kitchen tile.
Strangely, Marla said nothing. She just stayed where she was, cheek pressed against the laminate surface of the kitchen table, ass sticking up in the air, her pussy obscenely on display. It was a scene that would replay in my nightmares for months to come.
So, at 27, I was divorced. Damaged goods.
After the divorce, and the sale of the house, and the division of our possessions, I knew I couldn't stay in Chapel Hill. Too many bad memories, too many common friends between Marla and I. How could I face people who knew what had happened? I had to leave.
The only place I had any contacts was Atlanta, and even though I'd vowed to never live in that off-ramp of a city, I had no choice. So two months after catching Marla and Tim red-handed (or was it red-genital-ed?), I found myself teaching undergrad engineering courses at Georgia Tech.
The money was better than I'd made at UNC, and I wasn't tenure track there anyway. It was more expensive to live there than North Carolina, but Marla didn't fight for alimony, so I found a townhouse outside the beltway that fit within my budget. It meant a half hour each way on the MARTA train every day, but that was a hell of a lot better than fighting traffic all the way into the city.
The workload was heavier at Tech; I was teaching three courses instead of two. But I didn't care. I had only one friend in Atlanta, had no interest in dating, and just wanted one day to pass into the next. I really wanted the world to just leave me the hell alone. Fuck Marla, fuck Tim, fuck them all.
Thoughts of suicide entered my mind more than once; and if I'd had a supply of sleeping pills or a gun, who knows what might have happened.
Yet somehow, Laurie got to me. The mere sight of her had awakened feelings I'd thought were gone forever. Over the next few days, I felt like a teenager again -- I was horny all the time. I masturbated as soon as I got home from work. I wanked off in a bathroom stall at work. I stopped wearing underwear, just because. For the next three days, I was hard the entire ride on the MARTA train, thinking about what I'd do when I got home.
I went to Mickey D's for lunch every day that week, but never saw Laurie or her friend. I did, however, see the construction worker that'd tripped Laurie; I wondered, should I thank him??
Thursday, three days after I'd seen Laurie in the McDonald's, my cock was hard and throbbing, crying out for release as I found a seat on MARTA's North Line. I had just placed my backpack in my lap, trying to cover the embarrassing lump in my pants, when I felt the bench seat move as someone sat down next to me.
"Well, well, if it isn't my hero," she said.
I turned my head to see Laurie sitting next to me, a smile quirking up at the corners of her lovely mouth. I swallowed with some difficulty, and I felt my cock get even harder.
"H... Hi," I stammered out.
"I'm Laurie," she said, extending her hand. "From the McDonald's the other day?"
"Of course," I said, as if I could have forgotten. I took her hand in my own; her skin was smooth and soft and cold and her nails were tapered and painted a lovely shade of pink. "I'm Jack. Jack Wilson."
"Good to meet you, Jack," she said.
"You too," I said, functioning on auto-pilot as I checked her out. She was dressed similarly to how she had been on Monday, this time wearing a grey Tech t-shirt and pale denim shorts.
We rode in silence for a few minutes, the train car noisily clicking and clacking over the rails. I racked my brain trying to think of intelligent conversation, something to say to this lovely girl sitting next to me.
"So..." we both started at once, and then laughed. My anxiety level dropped a notch. "Go ahead," she said, still chuckling.
I nodded at her chest, then immediately blushed. "Are you... a Tech student?" I asked.
Her smile widened a bit before she answered; I wondered if she'd figured out the reason for my blush. "Yes," she said, finally. "I'm in the architecture masters program."
"Ah, good program," I said. My heart lifted a bit at the news she was a grad student; I didn't feel like quite as much of a pervert anymore.
"And you?" she asked.
"Other side of the lectern," I said, smiling. "I teach in Mechanical Engineering."
Laurie blinked, looking at the backpack on my lap. "You're a professor? You don't look any older than me."
I grinned. "Thank you. I'm not tenure track or even a Ph.D. yet. So technically, I'm an 'instructor, ' not a 'professor.'"
"Do you like it?" she asked.
Still a little on auto-pilot, I answered honestly. "It's okay. The department was better at UNC, but I had to leave North Carolina."
"Why? Were you wanted by the law there? For seducing your students or something?" she said, winking at me.
I laughed out loud, causing the other passengers on the train to stare at me. "No, nothing that exciting. I needed to move because... because of... personal reasons," I said, lamely.
"Ah, I see," Laurie said. Her eyes flickered downwards towards my left hand, which was resting on top of my backpack. If I hadn't been watching her eyes so closely, I might have missed it.
The awkward silence that followed was broken by the electronic voice over the speakers. "Dunwoody, next stop. Doors open to your right. Dunwoody, next."
"My stop," Laurie said, nodding towards the exit doors. She gathered up her backpack and stood to leave.
"I've got two more to go, I'm at North Springs," I said. I tried to think of something else to add, but by then the train had stopped and the flow of passengers was carrying Laurie towards the exit. "Have a good evening," she called out over her shoulder.
.... There is more of this story ...