Happily Never After

[monique_minx]

[[OOC: Closed for Minx & shizzz, please PM any feedback to either writer]]

Imogene Gaines sat quietly, chewing on the end of her pencil while lost in another fantasy. Her bright hazel eyes were drilling holes in Sam Mitchell’s back where he sat two rows in front of her. Imogene typically sat in the front row where she could pay the best attention to the lecture but not in Ethics class, in Ethics she always sat in the fourth row which was exactly far enough that she could hide her fantasizing and close enough that she could sidle by and smell his cologne at any point. It was a pity Sam didn’t know she existed.

Right now, all she could imagine was Sam talking to her, they sat in a quiet and dimly lit classical library (like the one in Beauty and the Beast) and Sam was reading Shakespeare to her…

“O Mistress mine, where are you roaming?
O, stay and hear; your true love’s coming,
That can sing both high and low:
Trip no further, pretty sweeting;
Journeys end in lovers meeting,
Every wise man’s son doth know.

What is love? ‘Tis not hereafter;
Present mirth hath present laughter;
What’s to come is still unsure:
In delay there lies not plenty;
Then, come kiss me, sweet and twenty,
Youth’s a stuff will not endure.”

He shut the book and looked deep into her eyes, “That was surely written for you.” In that husky voice she imagined he'd use in the bedroom.

“Then, come kiss me, sweet and twenty…though you are 19 Miss Gaines. Come and kiss me Miss Gaines…” Sam told her softly and she reached forward until their lips pressed together.

“Ms. Gaines?” Her lecturer asked again.

Imogene was snapped from her reverie and blinked rapidly as she tried to focus her attention on her professor, clearing her throat quickly, “Sorry, what Sir?”

“Please try to pay attention Ms. Gaines. I asked you what the difference between morals and ethics is.” Mr. Martin Hull looked at her expectantly, he was an aging man of about 40 with a dusting of grey to his short brown hair and was likeable enough – if you were paying attention.

“Ummm…morals is the way we act in the moment and ethics is the way we think we should act.” Imogene reeled off deliberately, attempting to quote her textbook.

“Excellent. Excellent. Now can anyone give me some examples?” Martin’s attention was off her and in search of other prey, Imogene breathed a sigh of relief and looked over at Sam again with a soft lament for him and him alone.

Finally class was dismissed and Imogene couldn’t escape the room fast enough, she stuffed her books into her bag quickly and barely paused to pick up her pencil when she dropped it before she dashed from the classroom – eager to get home before work. In her scuffle, she didn't even realise that she'd dropped her diary when she'd bent over to collect her pencil and it remained discarded under a front row desk next to the aisle.

Imogene lived about a 15 minute walk from campus and kept a brisk pace the whole way, she arrived in a record time and tried the door. Locked. Sandra must have been out. She put her key in and pushed the door open before she shut it behind her and dropped her bag at the door. Imogene raced upstairs and kicked her shoes off just inside her bedroom which was fairly ordinary, a double bed that had a lame green spread, a desk and bookshelf covered with textbooks and older classic novels.

Imogene slipped beneath the covers of her bed and looked to her alarm clock, it was 4:20pm which meant she had exactly an hour to eat, shower and get ready for her shift at Officeplex (an office supplies store) – she had the late night shopping shift. Imogene grinned, it was plenty of time.

Her fingers slipped down and nimbly undid her jeans before she slipped them off entirely, her middle finger made way beneath her panties and Imogene began to work her finger over her clitoris furiously, her eyes shut as she reimagined the scene with Sam. She gasped and moaned loudly, her panties soaked by her ever flowing juices and she got more excited. Before long, her toes were pointed and she was squealing with her head thrown back as waves of ecstasy washed over her shaking body.

“Fuck me Sam…” She whispered as her fingers moved to work herself up all over again.

 

[shizzz]

Sam listened to his professor dole on as he glanced around the classroom. He was always on the patrol for cuties the first few weeks of class as the semester kicked off.

He stretched his 6’2 muscular frame as best he could in the chairs. His thickly muscled frame ached from the workouts and the football season. It was the spring semester and their season had ended just before the semester started, but he still ached from it.

The white shirt pulled tight on the swells of muscles at his arm and chest as he ran his fingers through his long blond hair.

He took his time in leaving as the professor released them. He found it was the best way to see if there were any cuties in the crowd. He eyed a red head just before getting up himself. As he moved up the stairs he saw a notebook on the ground. He picked it up real quick, and used it to go after the red head. She had a nice ass that he had noted as she had gone up the stairs earlier.

“Hey. Did you drop this?” He asked as he caught up to her in the hall

She shook her head after looking at it

Well damn, he thought as he turned and walked off. He started flipping through it, when he saw his name.

He started reading as he walked, headed to the fret house.


He had found her name in the notebook after awhile, Imogene. He hadn’t recalled hearing her name at all. But he did see that she had a student profile, and an email….

His evening had picked up once he’d walked in the frat and after several hours, and the gym/shower/bar his night was winding down.

He stumbled into his room, and eyed the notebook. He smiled as he pulled up an anonymous email account he had

“Imogene, I stumbled across your diary today. I gotta say Sam would really love to know how interested you are in him.

But I don’t even know who you are. So I’ll meet you in class. I’ll wear a white shirt and jeans with a black hat. I want you to wear a white tank top and jeans shorts. Something skimpy, that might just turn Mr Mitchells head your way, you know, like something from one of your daydreams you wrote down’

He clicked send, then stumbled to his bed

 

[monique_minx]

Imogene stumbled home tired after her shift, it had been uneventful and dull all told. An incredibly slow night for her where she spent more time rearranging pens that kids had left in the wrong places than she had actually serving customers. She let herself in and saw Sandra's sports bag dumped on the couch which meant she was back from her basketball practice and probably sleeping so Imogene was as quiet as she could be when she crossed the living space to get to her room.

Sandra would be grumpy if Imogene woke her and she wouldn't hear the end of it for a week. She softly closed her bedroom door and pulled her laptop over to her bed, illuminating the room with only her bedside lamp. She wrenched her shoes off her feet and dropped them to the floor before flipping open her laptop. Imogene checked her assessment list and then opened her emails with a tired sigh.

Her bleary eyes opened just a bit wider when she saw an email from an account she didn't recognise, the subject line was 'Your Diary'. She frowned and clicked it skeptically.

'Imogene, I stumbled across your diary today. I gotta say Sam would really love to know how interested you are in him.

But I don’t even know who you are. So I’ll meet you in class. I’ll wear a white shirt and jeans with a black hat. I want you to wear a white tank top and jeans shorts. Something skimpy, that might just turn Mr. Mitchell's head your way, you know, like something from one of your daydreams you wrote down’.

Now her eyes were wide open and she gasped. Imogene shoved her laptop aside, flipped her feet off the bed and went straight to her bag. She tore it open and started pulling out the contents, her books spilled haphazardly across the floor as she frantically slid each one aside.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck! No, no, no! Where is it?!" She said loudly, desperately, completely forgetting about Sandra.

She looked everywhere and finally sat back on her heels in defeat, "Oh no...fuck."

She reluctantly went back to her bed and pulled her laptop in front of her with a groan. Imogene's hands splayed across her face and ran down it, she was completely anxious now, no one was ever meant to see that diary. It detailed every sordid, perverted thought she'd practically ever had and most of them were about or involved Sam.

She clicked the sender but it was from a free email service provider so the sender could have been anyone. They talked about Sam like they knew him, like they were friends with him and that scared the fuck out of Imogene but it also enticed her. His clothing request was unusual and specific too, she exhaled and shut the laptop before switching off her lamp and laying in bed.

"My life is either fucking over or..."

Or what? She wasn't sure what the alternative to being absolutely humiliated in front of the entire college was. She found it hard to believe Sam would be interested in her at all. She'd never even had the guts to say hello to him and had often written in her diary about how pathetic even she thought that was. A thought Sandra often echoed back to her too - they were roommates but not really friends.

The next morning Imogene found a slightly off white tank top and some denim shorts though and put them on.

"In for a penny..." She mumbled as she appraised herself in the mirror.

"I could...just not wear it, he doesn't know who I am..." She considered that for the hundredth time and just like the other ninety nine times, she discarded the idea.

"He might not know but if he puts it on the internet, someone will know..."

She couldn't risk it, she grabbed her trainers and popped them on quickly before she hustled out towards her class. Sandra was already long gone so Imogene locked up behind her.

She found the knot of dread in her stomach was swelling as she approached her classroom, she was early and no one was there yet so she found a seat up the very back of the class praying she'd go entirely unnoticed. It would also give her the advantage of spotting 'black hat' first - at least that's what she hoped.

 

[shizzz]

As Sam woke up the next morning he grabbed one of the frat lackies, one of the new kids.

“Hey. I need you to sit in on my ethics class. I need you to wear a white shirt and black hat. “

He didn’t tell him anything else. He was going to watch and see who this girl was. To determine just how he wanted to approach this situation.

The things she had written. If the least of it were true…..even if she wasn’t hot, the idea of having a flesh puppet was very very enticing. A girl who would consider his attentions a blessing.

He had decided, after reading all of the diary last night, and having at least one dream he could recall of getting his cock sucked in class, that he was going to pursue this opportunity

He tossed on a pair of slacks and a dark polo shirt that hugged his frame. Not toooo small of a shirt, but definitely close to that.

He pulled his blond hair back in a pony tail and then headed to class. He walked with Chad, the new frat boy in a white shirt and black hat. When asked why he had to wear those things Sam told him some girl was asking after him and he had wanted to see if he knew her first. He instructed Chad to play dumb if he was approached.

Sam had already thought up the email he would send.

He’d tell her to lose the bra, then meet him in the basement of the library, in the archives, the letter ‘S’

There she’d either find her diary and maybe something else. If he really liked her and she was ‘half’ the girl in this diary, he was gonna have a good day

Once they got there, they entered through different doors, and Sam took a seat near the back, but not in the last row. Chad went and sat in the third row. Sam didn’t look around not wanting to be obvious. He opened his laptop as he kept his eyes on Chad, waiting