Introduction:
There are two perspectives in this story, which are noted by CAPITAL NAMES. Hope you enjoy, please leave feedback.
JOHN
Let me describe a woman to you. She's eighteen years old, about five-foot-five, and probably around a hundred and ten or so pounds. Now that we've gotten the statistics out of the way, let me paint her picture in your mind. Straight, black hair frames a pale face, whose complexion is dotted with hundreds of freckles. High cheekbones, large, piercing, blue eyes, full, pouting lips, and a thin, pointed nose, structure this canvas. Her ears perk out from her head wider than normal, but that only compliments her features. Her neck is long, thin and elegant, and sits atop a narrow set of shoulders. Moving down her frame, we see a bust that protrudes vulgarly from the yellow spandex of her shirt. Each dome is shaped perfectly; creasing at the center and bursting from the constraints of her clothing. Her belly is flat, and beneath the yellow tightness of her shirt, I can see the tone outline of an athletic abdomen. Further down, we find a set of wide hips. Adorning these hips, is the kind of ass that makes your mouth water. Full, thick glutes protrude in ovals that crease perfectly at the thigh. Her black, spandex, leggings seem to dig vulgarly between the division of these cheeks, and they each jiggle with a delightful bounce as she walks. Her thighs are thick and toned, and narrow into knees, which in turn, narrow into a pair of running shoes.
"Sounds great," you might say, "but why the fuck did you tell me what she looks like with clothes on?"
Well, reader; I don't know what she looks like naked. I don't even know her name. The deion I'm giving you is what I'm looking at right now, because this girl goes to my gym, and the only interaction I've ever had with her, has been awkward eye contact, and waiting at the drinking fountain. To put in nicely…I'm a fucking loser. You've heard this story before, haven't you? Right now, you're thinking: "This can either go one of two ways: he'll get the girl because she's secretly attracted to him, or he'll just straight-up rape her."
Well, reader, you're right on both accounts.
ALICE
Let me describe a man to you. He's in his late twenties, about six feet tall, and probably around a hundred and eighty pounds or so. Now that we've gotten the statistics out of the way, let me paint his picture in your mind. He's got a bald, shaved head that narrows into a tanned face, whose complexion is shadowed with a thick wrap of stubble. A pronounced brow, brown eyes, handsome nose and strong jaw structure this canvas. His ears press flat against the sides of his bald head, which gives him a very stream-lined look. His neck is thick, and falls into a pair of tapered traps. His shoulders slope slightly, but the tone of musculature is there, and they connect to a set of veined biceps and jutting triceps. His forearms are vascular and strong, and seem to ripple with tendons as he moves them. His hands are also strong; thin skin and scars revealing the hard conditions they've endured. Moving down his frame, we see a set of pecs that push his shirt forward from his chest. His cut-off T drapes over a toned abdomen that is only revealed when he stretches. Further down, we find a set of narrow hips. Adorning these hips, is the kind of ass that makes your mouth water. Firm, toned buns perch atop grizzled, thick thighs. His blue, loose gym shorts reveal the prize that rests between his legs: a bulge that sways teasingly back and forth as he walks.
"Sounds great," you might say, "but why the fuck did you tell me what he looks like with clothes on?"
Well, reader; I don't know what he looks like naked. I don't even know his name. The deion I'm giving you is what I'm looking at right now, because this man goes to my gym, and the only interaction I've ever had with him, has been awkward eye contact, and waiting at the drinking fountain. To put in nicely…I'm a fucking coward. You've heard this story before, haven't you? Right now, you're thinking: "This can either go one of two ways: she'll get the guy because he's secretly attracted to her, or she'll just straight-up fuck him."
Women can rape too, but I'd be hard-pressed to do that to this man. Anyway, the reason I haven't made my desires known, the reason I'm too scared to initiate conversation with him, is because I'm a virgin. I was a late bloomer, and the lack of experience in high school has made me painfully awkward. He's obviously an experienced man who would have no interest in me. I'm an undergrad at this university, and he's at least a graduate student, if not a professor. I don't see a ring on his finger, but that doesn't mean he isn't taken. I wish he'd take me. I wish he'd just…cut through the song-and-dance bullshit of flirting, and strip me naked in the bathroom. No…pull down my leggings and take me with my clothes on. Press my face against the mirror and force me to watch my defilement as my desperate breaths fog the glass.
OK; calm down Alice. This happens to me a lot. My sexual repression often manifests itself as violent pornographic desires. At least, that's what the school psychologist said when I had a breakdown sophomore year of high school. I just need to narrow my focus, and take it one step at a time. Do I want this man? Yes. How does a female usually get a man? By existing. Well if that's the case, why haven't I gotten one yet? Because you're an awkward mess of social anxiety who scares everyone away. Well, how do I solve that? You don't. You just internalize your problems, and then masturbate furiously in your dorm room; you fucking loser.
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BACK ON TRACK, ALICE! Sorry reader, my mind wanders.
So, how do I get baldy inside me? Maybe, if I lead him on, he'll get the message. I just don't have the experience to know how to do that. Hell, the only sexual experience I have is fingering myself in front of a computer screen displaying BDSM gangbangs. I like to imagine I'm the woman in ropes, dangling helplessly from some contraption, while the men brutally take their turns inside me. A man in my pussy, another in my ass…railing mercilessly into me…berating me, degrading me…
OK, where was I? Seducing the bald guy, that's what I was trying to do. If I do squats right in front of him, and really stick my ass out there, maybe he'll do something. If not…
Whatever; I'll just finish my workout and flick the bean in my dorm. It's just hormones anyway.
JOHN
The gym is quiet tonight, and the last man has checked out. It's just me and the girl, working out in a silent room, the only sounds are the clanking of weights and the muted blare of music from ear buds. She's doing squats in the mirror, her ass pushing out teasingly from her arched back as soft tones of feminine strain flow from her luscious lips. Her gaze levels with mine in the mirror, and then rapidly darts back to her own. She's not interested, will never be interested. I sigh to myself.
Whatever; I'll just finish my workout and jerk off in my apartment. It's just hormones anyway.
I finish the last set of my curls, and wipe my brow with the towel. I take one last greedy look at the best ass I've ever seen, and then head to the locker room. At least I've got something for the spank bank.