Seduced In College (Campus Dorm Room School student One Night Stand Erotica Girl Romance Sex Stories series) (2 page)

“Do you want something else?” 

“No.  Why?”  He looks at me as if I’m from Mars
or something.

I pull my chair over and sit really close to him.  I
want to embarrass him.  I want to find out how much this traditional man
can control himself and for how long. 

“Mr. Watson,” I touch his hand with a finger. “I have a
question for you.”  I really want to tease him.

He pulls his hand immediately away like he was being
burned by a hot stove.  He tries to move his chair away, too.  But
the dorm room is really small.  So he has
no
room to move away at
all. 

Mr. Watson stands up.  He paces a few steps, takes a
quick look at his watch, and says, “I guess Emilie is going to be back soon.”

I’m laughing big time in my mind.  Now Mr. Watson is
pretending because… his cock stands up already.  Well, not all the way up,
but I can see it sticks out.  And it’s growing bigger every second, too.

So… I want to tease him more.  “Don’t worry,” I smile
at him innocently. “Emilie won’t be back for at least twenty minutes.  Or
maybe thirty.”

Actually, this is a little lie.  I know the class is
to be over in just a few minutes.  Emilie may be back in about ten minutes
or so.  But I’m taking the chance.  I know Emilie likes to hang out
with boys.  They may go to that secret classroom and do something really
exciting, too.  So, if that happens today, she won’t be back any time
soon.

“Really?” Mr. Watson seems really happy to know his dear
daughter is not coming back soon.  His eyes shine. 

My, my, my… This is the true Mr. Watson.  He is not
that traditional at all.  He pretends he is because he doesn’t want his daughter
know his “polluted mind”.  Let’s not use the word
dirty
here,
okay? 

He sits on his chair again.  He turns to me, looking
at my eyes, then my lips, then my neck, then my boobs.  Finally, he moves
his eyes back to my face and asks, “You said you have a question for me?” 
Naturally, his hand grabs mine.

I can tell right away that Mr. Watson has a ton of
experience dealing with girls.  He knew I wouldn’t be offended by what he
did to me. 

“Did I?  Did I have a question for you?” I ask.
“Come on, Megan, you just said that.”

“Okay,” I look into his eyes and say, “you have to be one
hundred percent honest with me.  Promise?”

“Promise.”  Mr. Watson sounds so honest and
confident.

“Tell me,” I say. “what’s in your mind at the
moment.  You have to be one hundred percent honest, okay?”

Mr. Watson smiles.  He grabs my hand and put it on
his chest. “Can you feel my honesty here?”

“Yes.”  I slip a finger under his shirt.

He pulls my hand away immediately but still holds it
tightly.  “Look, Megan, this is not what I want you to do to me. 
This is not in my mind at the moment.”

“Really?” I am a bit surprised.  Actually, I’m
confused.  Come on.  You are holding my hand.  And you are
telling me you don’t want me to touch your body?

I pull my hand off.  But Mr. Watson won’t let
go.  Instead, he pushes my hand down.  All the way down. 

His cock is now thick and hard.  Really hard.  I
grab it.  Mr. Watson let go my hand.

I’m a quick girl.  I do everything fast.  In
seconds, his thick cock is in my hands.  

I sit on my knees on the floor.  I massage the head
carefully.  Liquid leak out.  It is warm and sticky.  I lick it
off.  But more comes out.

Mr. Watson closes his eyes.  He spreads his legs wide
to make it easy for me to do my job. 

I touch the eggs.  They wiggle.  I begin to give
them a good massage.  I’m quite sure Mrs. Watson hasn’t done this for him
for a long time—had she ever done it at all.  I feel I’m taking care of a
man really in need. 

Suddenly, I hear footsteps outside.  I freeze. 
“Emilie!”  I can barely keep my voice down.

Mr. Watson jumps up and pulls his jeans.  But he is
in such a rush, his zipper catches the pubes and stops the half way.

We watch the door in horror.  After a few moments, we
hear the footsteps moving to the next door.  That must be some other
student coming back from a class.

That student must be cursed.  Not once, but once
every
day.  He (Or she?  I don’t really fucking care.) almost gave poor Mr.
Watson a heart attack.  Emilie almost lost her honest daddy.  It was
a
real crime
. 

I help Mr. Watson to zip his jeans properly.  I check
to make sure he looks absolutely normal and traditional.  I steal a few
kisses with him.  He is not rejecting my kisses but he looks so scared.

Finally, everything is back in order.  Mr. Watson
sits down on his chair and whispers, “Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh…”

“Come on, Mr. Watson,” I smile. “Be a man, okay?”

He calms down bit by bit and then smiles.  He takes a
big sip of water and then says, “Megan, I’m sorry for what has happened.”

“You don’t have to feel sorry, Mr. Watson,” I put my hand
right on his cock, which is almost back to its normal size.  “We will
continue.”

“Continue?”  Mr. Watson sounds surprised.  But
he looks really excited.  “You mean… continue with our relationship?”

“Why not?” I stick my hand in and grab his fast-growing
dick. “Don’t you feel good?”

“Yes, yes, yes…” that’s all Mr. Watson can say.

“Look, I have this plan,” I push my boobs on his chest and
begin to tell my secret plan…

Emilie is back after forty five minutes.  She looks
so tired.  I can tell right away that she was in that secret classroom
with some boy.  What a waste of our time.  Had I known it took her
that long to come back, I would have had a great time with Mr. Watson.  

Emilie is very happy to see her dad.  She jumps at
him and gives him a big kiss.  “Daddy!”

She’s the kind of girl calling her parents “Daddy” and
“Mommy”.  Very innocent, isn’t she?  I bet you have to agree.

Mr. Watson is now completely back to a normal,
traditional, old fashioned baby boomer kind of daddy.  He smiles
conservatively and talks like a real dad.  Oh, well, he
is
one
anyway.

Emilie doesn’t feel any difference.  I did an
excellent job to wipe out all the traces from her daddy.  I not only
washed his face, but also his dick.  Well, you may argue it was absolutely
unnecessary.  But that was for fun, okay?

“Daddy, did you wait for long?”

“Yeah, for some time.”

“Did you get bored?  Sorry, I don’t have a TV or
newspaper.”

“Don’t worry, Emilie.  I chatted a bit with
Megan.  It was fun.”

“Thank you, Megan!” Emilie jumps over to give me a big
hug.

“My pleasure, Emilie,” I sincerely smile.

I’m surprised to see how romantic Mr. Watson is.  He
keeps texting me the whole day—and night, too.  Once in a while, I have to
check my text messages in the night because my iPhone beeps non-stop. 

“Got a new boy, huh?” Emilie smiles sweetly. “Is he hot?”

“I will let you know,” my eyes are busy scanning through
the hot messages.  My fingers dance really fast to reply.

“You better,” Emilie pulls her beautiful face, trying to
give me a stern look.  She’s sure she’s going to see my new boyfriend
because we share them every time.

But, hey, not this one.  Poor Emilie doesn’t know I
almost fucked her daddy.  She doesn’t know Mr. Watson and I are in a
volcano-eruption hot relationship, either. 

By the way, he is no longer Mr. Watson.  He is now
Bob.  He made it very clear, “Unless you call me Bob, no talking.” 
So… Mr. Robert Watson is now Bob. 

I have to admit it’s hard to make the justification. 
At the very beginning, I kept calling him Mr. Watson in my text messages. 
But he shot back those angry little faces.  You can call them smileys or
whatever you want.  But they look angry.  Very angry.

So, I begin to call him Bob.  Each time I send him
something, I call him Bob; such as, a close-up of my lips, my nipple (yes, the
whole picture for
one
nipple), and my pussy, of course. 

I end up with
Bob this
and
Bob that
the
whole day.  In fact, some time I get
Bob requests
, too.  “Hey
honey, show Bob your armpits now!”  I will have to drop everything to
shoot the picture. 

I end up going to the girl’s restroom a lot.  I
didn’t realize that until one day, Emilie cornered me after a class and asked,
“Megan, are you sure you are not infected?”

“Infected what?” I was not pretending.  I was totally
confused.

“That.”  She touched her own private.  “I don’t
want anything bad happen to you.”

“Nothing happened.  Why?” I shook my head. “Did you
hear a rumor or something?  There is nothing wrong with that. 
Absolutely nothing.”

“Oh, come on, Megan,” Emilie shook her head in huge
disbelief.  “You are going to the girl’s restroom every twenty
seconds.  Tell me nothing is wrong with that.”

Oh… I see.  
I almost giggled. 
Don’t
you know I’m busy making your daddy happy?
  “Don’t worry,
Emilie.  I know my body.”

“You better go see the doc,” Emilie threatened. “I don’t
want to get any of that.”

“Sure,” I agreed quickly. 

Two minutes later, this interesting conversation went to
Bob.  He replied with a zillion smileys.

Bob is definitely smarter than merely sending
smileys.  He sends all kinds of absolutely romantic text messages. 
Let me share a couple with you (But you have to promise to keep them absolutely
the top secret.):

“I can’t live without you.”  This is a dumb lie
because he had lived for at least twenty years before I was born.  But I
like it.

“You are the most beautiful girl in the whole
world.”  I’m not sure about that.  But, again, I like it.

“I dreamed about you last night.”  This could be
true.  I do hope he didn’t say
Megan, my baby, Megan, come over…
 
This is no joke—what if Mrs. Watson happened to be awake at the moment?

“When I was fucking my wife last night, I felt I was fucking
you.”  That was quite possible.  Men are all like that.  They
always fuck a girl while thinking about some other girls to make their moment
more exciting.

“I can’t wait to fuck you.”  That I believe is pretty
much true.  I can imagine his cock was hard and thick when he was writing
this message.

“When do you think I can strip you, my baby?”  Oh,
well, this is a good question.  The problem is that Emilie and I are
always together.  Before Mr. Watson turned into Bob, I always thought I
was lucky to have Emilie as my best, best friend.  But now, I really want
to make her
disappear
—at least once in a while, when her daddy and I
have to share some special moments undisturbed.

I’m a smart girl.  I was admitted to the pre-med
program for good reasons.  This
when
question is challenging but I
can find an answer for sure.  After a few serious brain storm sessions, I
decide to use the event when I’m going to enjoy the night with Emilie’s and my
boyfriends.