Did I Get Your Attention? (closed for Lustful_Intentions)

K

kiarabelle

Guest
The other girls' raucous laughter drowned out Sara's halfhearted giggle. She was too distracted to take her usual delight in hearing about one of Danielle's adventures. Instead she stared down at her phone, hoping for a call, a text, an email, anything from Greg telling her that it was ok, that they were ok. With each passing day, it seemed less likely. It had been four days since she heard from him, despite the many apologies she had left on his voicemail, begging for his forgiveness.

This had not been their first fight, just their most explosive in a series of fights, manifestations of the strain caused by distance and time apart. Meaningless and trivial things became a trigger for Sara to unleash her frustration and insecurities, and the longer they were apart and the more they fought, the more insecure she felt. If he forgave her this time, she told herself that she would be different. It had to be different. She couldn't bear to lose the only man she had ever loved, her first kiss, her prom date, the man she gave her virginity to.

"Looks like you need another drink, Sara," Danielle said with a smile.

"No, I'm beat. It's time for me to head back to my room," she replied, realizing how groggy her head felt as she got to her feet and took a moment to steady herself.

"If you really want to get his attention, send him a little something to remind him what he's missing," Danielle suggested while posing as though someone was taking her picture. "And if that doesn't work, get yourself laid, girl!"

Sara rolled her eyes and giggled. "You're such a slut, Danielle. Night girls!"

"You know I'm right!" she heard Danielle call after her.

**********************************************

Sara looked her slender curves and fair skin in the mirror and blushed. She couldn't believe she was even considering this. She took a deep breath and posed, then posed again and again. Frowning, she reached up and let her hair out of her pony tail, her wavy, dark brown hair falling to her shoulders. She practiced a few different poses covering her neatly trimmed pussy with her free hand, before going back to her bed and grabbing the pair of pink, lace panties that she had just removed and sliding them back on.

When she returned to the mirror, she stood with legs shoulder width apart, her weight on her left leg, forcing her hips in the same direction. Her green eyes looked bright, still wet with tears that had escaped when she returned back to the privacy of her own room. Her poses all looked so rigid and nervous. She thought back to how nervous she had been on their first date and how she had blown him a kiss from her parents' porch. In a moment of inspiration she puckered her lips and put her hand below her chin as though blowing a kiss, leaning forward slightly, then snapped the photo of her reflection.

She smiled at the result and attached it to an email. She quickly typed in his email address, along with the words "Yours and only yours - Love Sara", then hit send before she lost her nerve.

************************************************

Laying in bed, Sara already regretted sending the picture. It wouldn't do any good and was so, desperate. She tried to imagine life without him, imagined having to tell her parents that they had broken up and tears filled her eyes again and her heart ached.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Katy Perry's voice coming from her cell phone. Her breath caught in her throat, looking at the phone to see the name that she knew would be there. It was his ringtone. "Hello," she answered her words groggy.

"I'm sorry, Sara," Greg said. "I should have called sooner. I was doing a lot of thinking and I realize that I was being childish."

It was just like Greg to take the high road and not even mention the picture, but she smiled nonetheless. She beamed. It had worked, whether he wanted to admit it or not.

"So I take it you thought the picture was a good peace offering," she said finally after they had each gone through their series of explanations and apologies.

Greg was silent for a moment at the other end, before replying, "Picture?"

"The picture silly," she said, trying not to let her voice sound strained. She was tired and wasn't particularly in the mood for this act, especially right after they had made up. "I sent a picture that I thought you'd like."

"A text?"

"God no! I know how careless you are with your phone. An email."

"I didn't get it."

"Maybe the network is just running slow. Well, you should have a nice surprise waiting for you whenever it gets there."
 
The rattle on the bedside table roused Gerald from a deep slumber. It was 9AM on Saturday, the one day of the week he allowed himself to sleep in, and he was unamused by the sound.

After a week of midterms, most notably, Torts, Gerald was worn down. The week of grading undergraduate essays only made it worse. The second year of law school had been much harder on him than he'd expected, and as spring approached, he couldn't help but dread the trip he was due to the library today to work on a case with his study group.

He let out a deep sigh as he reached for his phone. Sliding his finger gently across the screen and punching in his security code, he brought the device to life. He gazed down at the lower left corner where he saw that eight new messages awaited him in his campus account.

Gerald groaned as he pushed down to bring up the account "Okay, nerds, what do we have for today, a day off from school, no less?"

He scrolled through the messages-two from undergrads complaining about their grades in Crim 201, as though he would engage the professor on his behalf. Three more from his study group, the last coming at 11:30PM the night before-discussing pre-work for the day's meet up.

Then, at 1:30 AM, from an address he didn't recognize, a message with an attachment. The small screen truncated the title, and all he saw was "Yours and only....". He didn't recognize the address.

Gerald swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood up. His short, dark hair was mussed from a restless night of sleep, and his legs ached from squeezing in a 4 mile run between classes on Friday.

"What is this?" he allowed himself to wonder. There had been some spam and security concerns at the university back in the fall, and Gerald wondered if he was looking at something of that nature.

As he stepped into the hallway of his small, off campus one bedroom, he considered this, and dismissed it. Refocusing his green eyes on the screen, he figured he was better off figuring out what this email was all about, and pushed his thumb down to open the message.

He was puzzled when he opened it-there was no message, only the small paperclip indicating an attachment. The full subject line was visible though "Yours and only yours - Love Sara".

"Who the hell is Sara?" He wondered aloud. Still, this seemingly had potential. He clicked through and opened the attachment, and as the image appeared onscreen, nearly dropped his phone.

Catching it, he caught his green eyes staring into a green pair on the screen, though, he would admit later, the color of the young girl's eyes in the photo at which he was looking was not the first thing he noticed.

Simply put, she was stunning. Young, certainly, but stunning. Dark, flowing hair, smooth curves, and full lips that drew him in. Yet, he knew immediately that he didn't know this girl. She was a stranger. He checked the email address-it was a university 200 miles west.

Gerald chuckled a bit and shook his head. This poor girl had made a terrible mistake. He certainly wasn't going to delete the message, that would be foolish. He was still a 26 year-old red-blooded male, after all.

The least he could do, he figured, was let the poor girl know that she'd screwed up. She probably had a boyfriend somewhere on that campus that she owed an apology to, but that wasn't Gerald's problem.

Clicking the reply button with his thumb, he quickly tapped out a message:

'Hi there, Sara (I assume),

I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I think you intended this message for someone else here at the college. Don't get me wrong, it's a lovely picture, and, were it intended for me, I'd be terribly flattered, but, I think you've made a small mistake here.

I hope that this realization doesn't cause too much trouble for you-but I suspect it might. Best of luck.

Regards,

Gerald'

Gerald considered the message for a second. It was a responsible response. That was all he could do for Sara, whoever she was.

He set the phone down on his kitchen counter, having wandered the apartment as he tapped the message. Reaching down, he hit 'send' and let out a deep breath.

Leaving the phone on the counter, he pivoted and headed back into the hall, towards the bathroom, thinking out loud.

"Interesting start to the weekend, I suppose. Good luck, Sara, but, it's out of my hands now. Time to grab a shower."
 
Sara only saw one email when she woke up in the morning. After they got off the phone, Greg had written her a sweet little note, beautiful and poetic. She memorized it and let his words run through her mind. "The sun reminds me of your warmth, the wind of your touch." She beamed, walking with a bounce in her step despite her mild hangover. The world had not only been set right, but better than before. "No matter the distance you are with me, because you are in my heart."

Her appetite was back as well and she had piled her plate high with blueberry pancakes. Danielle eyed her stack with a suspicious look. "You seem in a better mood. Trip and fall on a cock on your way back last night?" she asked sarcastically.

"Nope, Greg called." Danielle mocked surprise, and Sara proceeded to tell her about their conversation and the email Greg had sent.

"So when are you going to see him? Today's delightful news aside, you still do need to get laid."

Sara rolled her eyes and took out her phone. "I don't know. Hopefully soon."

"Surprise him. Plan a trip out there and rock his..." Sara heard herself gasp as she read the email, cutting off Danielle mid sentence. "Oh god, what now?" Danielle asked with a hint of annoyance in her voice. "You and Greg can't already be fighting again."

Sara tried to hide her shock and push back the wave of panic that had almost knocked her from her seat. "It's, um... It's nothing," she said, her voice soft and clearly shaken. She could feel her hand trembling as she clutched the phone and thought she might get sick.

Danielle's tone softened with concern. "Sara?"

"It's nothing."

"Seriously, you look like you saw a ghost. What's going on?"

"Nothing," Sara snapped more loudly than she had intended. Some of the people that were sitting nearby turned towards her, but she was already out of her seat and storming towards the door.

On her way back to the dorm she had decided to ignore the message, pretend it never happened. She would tell Greg that it had just gotten stuck in her outbox and resend it. It had never happened. How could it have? How could she have mistyped her fucking boyfriend's email address so badly? She was lucky that the man who received it had simply brought it to her attention and deleted it. It could have been a lot worse.

She froze, a second wave of panic overtaking her, and opened the email again. She frantically scanned the message for the words that she had been sure she had read. The message itself was unemotional, written as though crafted by a lawyer. "I hate to be the bearer... It's a lovely picture... Best of luck." She briefly hoped that he might have forgotten to specifically say that he was going to delete it. He had gone through the trouble to notify her that she had "made a small mistake here." The impersonal tone had implied that he would delete it, hadn't it?

Her eyes fell on the last line again. "I hope that this realization doesn't cause too much trouble for you-but I suspect it might." If he were simply deleting it, why would it cause trouble? To say that she was embarrassed was a gross understatement, she was mortified, but she'd get over that. It wouldn't cause her... She had to know.

'Hi Gerald,

I'm so sorry my email was sent to you in error, and thank you so much for letting me know. It's so nice to know that there are people that wouldn't take advantage of a tired and emotional girl making such a silly mistake. I guess I need to be more cautious because next time I might not be so lucky, and it truly might cause me trouble. I'll be sure not to send any more clutter to your inbox.

Sara'
 
Gerald stepped out of the shower, shivering a bit from the chill. It unseasonably cold, even for mid-March, and the chill from outside easily made its way into the old apartment building that he and a number of classmates inhabited. He quickly dried himself, wrapping his towel around his waist, and stepped back into the hallway, making his way towards the kitchen.

From the refrigerator, he grabbed a half-gallon of milk. Working down the small row of cupboards, he grabbed a bowl and some cereal before reaching into the utensil draw for a spoon. He paused, glancing at his phone, still sitting there on the counter. Looking down at his already full arms, he shrugged, and walked back to the living room, towel hung loosely from his hips. The advantages of living alone, he'd mused.

Settling in on the his worn, third-hand brown sofa, he set his breakfast on the coffee table and reached for the remote. Flipping on ESPN for background noise, he poured himself a bowl of cereal, drowning it in milk, and let out a deep breath. Undoubtedly, he had a long day ahead of him.

He reached for his lap top, flipping it open, and punching a key to revive it from sleep mode. It was a well-worn machine, and had seen him through the last two years of undergrad, the interstitial year where he contemplated law school, and the first year-plus of the subsequent regrettable adventure.

He pulled up a Chrome window, navigating to his campus email account once again. No telling how many of the undergrads had risen and fired off missives questioning their grades. Gerald waited a moment for the window to load and present him with the day's challenges.

And then, there it was. A response. 'Re: Yours and On....'

Gerald actually felt a catch in his stomach. He slid his finger across the track pad and clicked to open. What would have prompted this girl, this young woman, to message him back? His eyes scanned Sara's message, narrowing slightly at the remark about 'taking advantage of a tired and emotional girl' before his mouth curled into a slight smile at her closing. Any more clutter? Well, sure, he'd not expected to hear from her again-she was a stranger, after all. Still, she sounded a bit like a nervous teenager, which, Gerald admitted, she likely was-even if she were an adult, and a college student herself.

Regardless, Gerald felt that she deserved a response. The tone of her email struck him as being from someone in need of reassurance.

'Hey Sara,

It's not a problem, really. I just thought there was a chance that you might have to do some damage control, given that you were clearly trying to send that picture to somebody.

Let me reassure you-the picture is safe with me. You'll not see it pop up on a message board somewhere, or anything like that. I might hang onto it myself, as, I confess, I find it to be a particularly beautiful photo-certainly, it doesn't feel like 'clutter' to me. You're quite attractive, and that's certainly nothing to be ashamed of.

I wish you the best of luck with whatever this photo was attempting to resolve-as judging from your email, I get that this isn't a normal practice of yours.

Best, Gerald'

With that, Gerald flipped closed the laptop and finished up his breakfast. He was going to be late for his work group if he didn't get moving.
 
Sara felt her stomach knot as she read his email, although she wasn't really surprised. "Fucking asshole," she muttered to herself in disgust. And who was he to tell her not to be ashamed? Just because he had seen more of her than any man other than Greg, he now thought he was qualified to tell her how she should feel? It was kind of pathetic really that one picture of some girl that he would never meet, let alone touch would be worth keeping. She pictured a man with nothing to do, holed up in his room with her photo on his computer screen, staring at her while he stroked himself, his cock big and hard for her. She shook the image from her head. "Pathetic," she muttered.

She let out a heavy sigh. There was nothing she could do now. She couldn't make him delete it and as long as he kept it private it wouldn't do her any harm. "Enjoy those pixels pal," she said spitefully just as Danielle burst into her room.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Danielle said in a quiet but angry tone. "If you're not on meds, you fucking need to be. Your happy, then freaked out, then angry, then you make a fucking scene when I ask what's wrong?"

"I'm sorry," she said. Then proceeded to tell Danielle the whole story: how she had taken the picture and sent it (which obviously delighted Danielle), how Greg had claimed that he never received it and how she hadn't really believed him, how she had received an email from someone else at Greg's school telling her that he had received it and how it was "safe" with him.

"Wait, what was that look?" Danielle asked.

"What look?"

"You're blushing."

"I'm embarrassed. I sent some random guy at Greg's school a picture of myself wearing nothing but panties." Danielle eyed her suspiciously, but said nothing. "And in the second email he sent..." She trailed off. She hadn't meant to admit that she had contacted him afterwards.

"Second email? Why was there a second email?"

"Well, he was replying to the one I..."

"You replied! Holy shit," Danielle said quietly with a wide grin on her face. "You weren't blushing because you were embarrassed that you sent the picture. You were blushing because you like that he saw you, and I'm guessing liked what he saw."

"I think you know me well enough to know that isn't true. Just because you'd like it..."

"Your eyes don't lie. There's a part of you that loves that he's keeping the picture."

"Fuck you!"

"That loves it," she continued insistently. "That loves that some strange man is going to fantasize about you while he..."

"Ok, ok. Maybe I am just the slightest bit flattered," she replied before the image came back to her mind. "But that's well behind humiliation in my range of emotions. I'm 99% humiliated and 1% flattered. Happy?"

"I just wanted you to admit it." Danielle grinned with a satisfied look. "You know, he's probably jer..."

"Ok, stop!" Sara said with a giggle, feeling herself blush again.

"You're going to show me the picture, right?"

"Get out of here." She picked up a tank top that was lying on her bed and threw it at her friend, but she was smiling now.

'Hi Gerald,

Thanks for keeping it safe. I appreciate it. I suppose you deserve the kiss I was blowing in the picture. Just try to ignore those pesky naked parts ;-)

Sara'
 
The morning had dragged into early afternoon for Gerald. Sitting in a study room at the university library with three classmates, he felt his eyes grow heavy as they debated the merits of the defense in this case and that case for the better part of three hours. He was tucked in the back corner of the room, furthest from the door in an 8x8 box that, in some European countries, would be considered to harsh for a prison cell.

He zoned out, then drifted to the image of Sara, slightly bent at the waist, sumptuous lips puckered. At that point, he was far away from torts, or case law, or whatever it was that was up for discussion at this point.

"Gerald? Dude! Wake up!" Eric, one of his better friends in the school of law, kicked his chair under the table. "You with us?"

Gerald smirked "Yeah, sorry. I'm...I'm here." He shook his head, dragged his hands over his eyes. "I'm just feeling a bit fried, we've been at this for a long time. Can we get a break?"

Eric looked at Halle and Frank, "What do you think guys, maybe we give it 15? Seems like we're due."

The pair nodded their assent and rose, Halle looked at Gerald-she was a sweet girl, but maybe trying a bit too hard to fit in with the boys, "Try to stay with us next time, okay?" she barked at him before turning on her heel and heading out of the room.

Eric looked at his friend. "You okay, man? You've seemed distracted all morning."

Gerald nodded, considering this. Did he tell Eric about the emails from the strange girl? No-he'd just want to see the picture, and, though he didn't know Sara, he'd promised that he'd keep the photo private. As much as he wanted to commiserate on the fact that he'd had this very unique experience, he really didn't know what to say about it. Given that, Gerald decided that the right answer was to say nothing.

"Yeah, I'm okay, thanks. Just a long week. I think I need a break or a vacation. Something like that."

Eric snorted, "You realize your in law school, right? Year two? Good luck getting a break." Eric put 'break' in air quotes, indicating how silly it sounded.

His friend rose, "Want to run downstairs to the cafe? I need a bagel or something."

Gerald stood, reached into his pocket, "Actually, I'm going to stay here, clear my head. Can you get me something? Just some water and a Powerbar, please."

Eric took the money, and nodded, "Sure, if you say so. I'll see you in a few."

Gerald sat back down and flipped up his laptop screen, clicking through. In a moment of honesty, he confessed that he wanted to see if he had a message from Sara. It was a foolish hope-this girl was a stranger, and, most likely, had a pretty serious boyfriend somewhere. If not, she was quite possibly a bit off, which wouldn't do Gerald any good either.

There it was-another message from Sara. It was short, but sweet, to be sure. He read it a few times, digesting it, smirking at the use of the emoticon. It was practically playful, almost as though Sara had accepted that the photo was out there, and decided to simply enjoy his compliment.

He considered his response-certainly, he kept the photo because it was lovely. There was no doubt that, at some point, he would use it for stroke material. She was too pretty, too well toned, for him not to come back to it.

Gerald took a minute, clicked back up the message chain, and looked at it again-she had a lovely intensity in her green eyes, and her lips were full and puckered just right. Of course, the curve of her backside and the pertness of her breasts here impossible to ignore.

'Hey Sara,

Certainly, no trouble keeping an eye on it for you. And, again, nothing for you to worry about. If I shared it, then it wouldn't be our little secret, and what fun would that be? I will do my best to ignore 'those pesky naked parts', as I am quite flattered by the air kiss. That said, those naked parts are very nice-they tend to draw the eye a bit. I hope you don't mind me saying that :)

Best,

Gerald'
 
'Wow, babe! You look amazing. I'm going to have that image in my head all day. I've missed my angel's sexy little body. I still can't believe you did this. You're full of surprises and I'm glad I'm the only one that gets to see this particular surprise. Next time, lose the panties. There's something under there that I'm dying to see again :D

Love,
Greg'

Sara imagined watching Greg's face as she slid down her panties for him, feeling her body tingle with anticipation as he reached out to touch her. She unbuttoned her jeans and slid down her zipper, letting her hand slide down her panties. She hadn't realized how wet she had become and let out a soft moan as she pushed two fingers inside. She closed her eyes, letting her imagination carry her love into the room with her, imagining it was his fingers, his co.....

"I can't do this now," she whispered breathlessly. "Later. I'll do this later." She stood and fixed her jeans, looking at herself in the mirror as she ran her fingers through her dark hair. Danielle would be there any minute and she had answered enough of her questions for one day. She took a few deep breaths to compose herself, although they did little to help.

She opened Greg's email again and smiled. "My angel." She loved when he called her that, but as she closed his message, should couldn't help but feel guilty. When she saw the messages in her Inbox, she had opened Gerald's first, a morbid curiosity she had convinced herself, and was embarrassed by how her own flirtatious email had emboldened him. This wasn't who she was, how she behaved and less than 24 hours since they made up, she felt like she had already betrayed Greg. "I don't feel like an angel," she muttered shaking her head in frustration. "No more. No more emails to him, no more reading his emails. This has already gone too far."

***************************************

Danielle walked out of the dressing room with the confidence of a girl that was used to drawing her share of attention. She posed in front of Sara in a lavender bikini, running her hands through her long golden blonde hair. "That one looks great too. You do realize that there isn't a bikini on the planet that you don't look amazing in."

Danielle smiled her eyes catching one of the men in the store staring at her. "This would be more fun if you'd try a few on with me. You're going to need something to wear in the hot tub at my parents' place in the mountains."

"I have a bathing suit, thanks."

"Ugh... You're not talking about that thing you wear while you swim laps at the gym, are you?"

"It's a bikini and I'm not trying to impress anyone."

"Two-pieces doesn't make it a bikini," she said sarcastically. "You're not competing in a triathlon, it's a fucking hot tub and I'm sure that your one and only wouldn't mind if you showed a little more skin."

"Think I've shown quite enough skin for today thank you."

"I'm not asking you to flash anybody, just... Ugh. I forget that you're 18 going on 35." She let out a heavy sigh. "Grab that light green one there, the one with the pink straps and pink sun on the breast." Sara unenthusiastically grabbed the suit." Perfect, now come with me."

Before the door had even closed, Danielle had pulled a flask out of her pocketbook and handed it to Sara, who took a long sip of the Bailey's they had stashed away for their shopping trip. "I never realized why you liked shopping so much," Sara said with a laugh. "Then I realized my two mistakes, I was spending my own money and was doing it sober."

Danielle had already let her top fall to the floor and was thumbing through the other 5 or 6 suits she had yet to try on. She took back the flask and took a long sip of her own. "Go ahead and try that on, it is going to look amazing on you."

Looking at herself in the mirror, she had to admit that her friend was right. It fit her perfectly and managed to make her breasts look a little fuller, and showed just a hint of her ass. Of course, it was hard to feel too good standing beside her friend who was just as slender but a full 6-inches taller and two cup sizes bigger. "Buy it, Sara. You need that suit. Greg's jaw will drop to the floor when he sees you in it." Sara smiled.

****************************************

Sara opened her email, staring again at the side by side messages from Greg and Gerald, deciding to open Gerald's one last time before deleting it and him from her life forever. She blushed again as his pun about "keeping an eye on it." The whole thing was so flirtatious, so fun. "One last message back," she said to herself.

'Glad that it is in safe hands. Hope those hands don't get... full :D

Sara'
 
Gerald wiped the sweat from his brow and slumped against the bleachers, glancing up at the gymnasium clock. It was nearly 6 PM, and, if he was honest with himself, he was spent. He'd been at the campus recreation center since 4 PM, having finally abandoned the study group to get in a few quick games of pick-up basketball.

Taking a pull from his water bottle, Gerald looked around the gym. The game was going on with out him-his pick up team lost, and he was contemplating heading home. This was one of Gerald's favorite things to do-get together with a group of guys from the law school on Saturday afternoon and run up and down, even if half of them had no business near a basketball court.

Eric flopped down next to him, breaking Gerald from his temporary daze.

"So, bar tonight? We can watch the game." Eric posed. It sounded more like a statement than a question.

Gerald considered it for a moment. He did feel like he needed to get out of the house, but, an evening out with the law school crowd sounded tedious. Barely half of them would be bothered to watch the game, most focusing on who could get the most drunk and argue about summer internships.

"I don't know, man, I'm kind of beat right now."

"What? Come on. It's Saturday, you've got student loan money burning a hole in your pocket, and there'll be beer. And girls. And beer." Eric was clearly going for the hard sell.

Gerald stood, grabbing his sweatshirt, "Maybe-we'll see." He threw the grey hoodie over his head and reached to pick up his cell phone, noting that he had new email messages.

"Right. It's a 7:30 tip. We'll see you over there."

Gerald just gave a small laugh, shook his head, and started out.

"7:30!" Eric shouted, "Be there!".

Flipping his hood up over his head, Gerald started down the sidewalk. Living off campus, but close, he'd the advantage of still being able to walk to most of the amenities the school offered. Absent-minded, he drew his thumb across the screen of his phone as he hiked the three blocks to his apartment.

Again, he found himself surprised-another email from Sara. A short one, this time-even shorter than the others. On first read, it seemed a throwaway-a 'okay, this has been fun, but I need to get on with real life now' sort of message.

On second, third and fourth reads, it was clear what it was-a flirtation. Gerald chuckled slightly, surprised at the smile that crossed his face. It had been easily a year and a half since he'd so much as flirted with a woman, or even felt inclined to do so.


Climbing the stairs to his apartment, he rolled her words over in his head. Obviously, she'd expected that he was pleasuring himself to her photo. It's not that the thought hadn't occurred to him. She was beautiful, after all, and in quite a provocative state of undress in the photo. It was simply that he'd not had the opportunity to do so, and, being honest with himself, wasn't sure how that would feel-knowing that the girl didn't intend the photo for him.

Gerald stepped into his apartment, slipped his shoes, and moved into the bathroom. Setting his phone on the vanity, he pondered the possibility of touching himself to Sara's image, then dismissed it. He reached into the shower and turned the handle, letting out a deep breath. It would take a few minutes to warm up, like it did in all of these older, brick buildings.

He slid down his shorts, stripping off the hoodie and the t-shirt underneath. Gerald looked in the mirror-he was in better shape than he'd been in since high school, with just a hint of muscle tone along the length of his torso, arms and legs. The basketball and the running had helped with this. Forgetting to eat because of long law school hours had likely contributed a bit as well.

Scrolling back up the message chain, he found Sara's picture again. Looking down, he noted that the running thoughts, coupled with his picture, had left him with a growing erection beneath his compression shorts. A crude thought occurred to him so quickly that he'd not even time to dismiss it.

Raising his phone, his thumb swiped and prodded to activate the camera. He positioned himself against his reflection in the mirror. He had to work quickly-steam was coming from the shower. His left hand cradling the phone, his right moved to his erection, the thick shaft pressing against his left thigh, and gently wrapped his thumb and forefinger around it. Before he could stop himself, he clicked the picture-his naked torso, green eyes and cradled erection all visible.

Gerald let out a quick breath and smiled. Nothing to do now but send it.

He attached it to a reply window, and tapped out his response to Sara:

'Well, I wouldn't go so far as to say 'full', but, certainly, they may perhaps be busy, and, I might add, quite capable. :)

Have a wonderful Saturday night Sara-stay out of trouble :)'

Gerald smiled at his boldness, closed his email, and stripped off his shorts to prepare for his shower. Hell, he deserved to go out for a beer or two after that.
 
With her eyes closed and head tilted back, she let her fingers casually glide across her collar bone as the steady stream of water hit her shoulders and cascaded down her body, its path altered by each subtle twist and stretch of her muscles. A hot shower always relaxed and soothed her, rinsing away the day's anxiety and although the haze of the steam turned the space around her dull and grey, it brought her mind into focus. Here, her sins against Greg didn't seem so bad, less an act of betrayal and more an innocent flirtation, no more dangerous than a smile at a party. Gerald could not see any more of her than the glimpse he'd been given in that single picture, nor could he touch her, excite her, know her, love her. She had no feelings for him, it was a virtual dance, a sense of false intimacy that gave the illusion of being more dangerous than it was, words on a screen and nothing more.

Satisfied that she had regained her bearing, she shut off the water and stood motionless, taking five long, slow deep breaths feeling goosebumps rise on her skin as the cool air rushed in to replace the dissipating steam. It was her own little ritual that she had been completing ever since she was a young girl. Then with a smile and renewed sense of confidence, she grabbed her towel and dried off before walking down the hall to her room, towel wrapped tightly around her. She tried to force herself to slow her strides, like she had seen Danielle do countless times, trying to show herself that she was unembarrassed of being seen like this, but her heart raced and her legs soon followed, and she closed the door to her room behind her with a slight giggle.

She leaned over her desk and opened the latest message from Gerald. Her jaw dropped she felt herself blush. "Oh my god," she whispered, closing the message before opening it again for a second look and quickly closing it again. In a heartbeat, the flirtation no longer seemed so innocent. "That asshole," she said angrily under her breath. "He took it too far." She looked back at her computer. "That asshole," she repeated desperately trying to direct her anger at him, even though she knew that she was mostly mad at herself for letting it get this far and for how she felt when she saw the picture, the thought of how she had made him that hard.

She shook her head. "No. No, no, no. This ends here," she said quietly even as she nervously bit her lower lip and resisted the urge to open the picture again. "I'm not doing this anymore," she said as she closed her laptop. She took a deep breath, let her towel drop to the floor and started to get ready for the party.
 
Gerald stepped through the heavy wooden door of The Finish Line, the sports bar located just three blocks from his apartment, away from campus. It was located in an old building with a brick exterior and an interior that had the consistently light musty smell of a building that had seen hundreds of thousands of beers consumed by young adults over the decades. In any other setting, the smell would be off-putting, but, in the context of local watering hole, it was comfortable.

He spotted Eric, holding down a four-seater high-top close to the bar. He was with Kent, a stocky ginger with a penchant for getting over-served every time Gerald had the misfortune to encounter him.

Tonight is either going to be a very short night, or a very long one.
Gerald's internal monologue offered.

Gerald slung his jacket over the barstool, ignoring Eric's snark directed at him.

"Hey, nice of you to join us, Ger. You know it's almost 7:45. Lucky for you, all of the TV bullshit means they haven't tipped the game off yet."

"Yeah, good to see you too." The response dripped sarcasm. "We got a server? Or do I need to go up to the bar? Hey, Kent." Gerald was trying to be efficient-if he was going to be here for any measure of time, he was going to need a beer. The hello to their third was a throwaway out of politeness. Kent merely nodded and grunted a response, already well into a 32-ounce Labatt draft.

"We're close enough to the bar that I think Cher's just going to take care of us." Eric nodded to the bar where Cher, a tall, thin blonde was busy filling a tray with beer bottles for the table next to them.

Gerald looked around-that made sense. After all, the bar was barely half full. It was too early in the evening for a place like this to fill up, even with its proximity to campus. Fortunately for Gerald and Eric, they'd frequented this particular hole-in-the-wall often enough that they were on a first name basis with the regular bartenders, which made getting served significantly easier.

He caught Cher's eye and asked for a New Castle. Cher nodded, gave a tired smile, and told him she'd bring it to the table in a minute.

Gerald turned on his heel, instinctively pulling his phone from his pocket. The screen came to life at the touch of his thumb, and he quickly looked to see if he'd a response from Sara, even knowing this was unrealistic. He was unsurprised to see nothing, even if he found the discovery a touch disappointing.

As he settled into his seat at the table, his mind wandered. Had he crossed a line with Sara? Did it matter? Was he making what was likely a younger girl simply enjoying a bit of attention into something more?

Cher set his glass on the table, brushing his arm lightly, "Here you go, Ger, drink up, it's early".

Gerald took a quick pull from the glass-it was cool to the touch, and the brown ale was slightly sweet on his tongue, the caramel of the malt soothing him. He looked at his phone again, finally putting it back to sleep and placing it face down on the table, reminding himself to put it out of his mind.

He raised his glass, took another swallow, and looked at Eric, his mood shifting, "So, you're buying, right? Let's tie one on."
 
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