by Lexi Jordan
Without question, this was the most grueling game Dylan had ever put her through. The problem wasn't that it was uncomfortable or painful, quite the opposite, it felt really good. The problem was that it wouldn't stop feeling good. Who wanted to go through their entire day constantly on the verge of orgasm? When she was sitting, things weren’t so bad. But she still had trouble focusing in American Lit. One small shift in her chair and she was biting her lip, trying to stifle a moan.
She was fantasizing about Dylan retrieving the balls with his tongue when the Professor mentioned having fifty pages read by Wednesday.
Emma looked at her syllabus and realized there was a book for the class that she hadn't picked up, Language of Literature. She thought she'd gotten everything she needed during orientation, but now she had to go back to the bookstore which meant spending more time with those damn balls rattling around inside her.
When she reached the bookstore she marched directly to the section where her book would be. In and out, she'd be done before Jamal, who was picking her up, even realized she was running late. But when she reached the section with her class number, it only had the books she'd already bought. She didn't miss it; the damn bookstore didn't have it. She went looking for an employee. Two aisles over, she stopped in her tracks. There was a behemoth of a man, tall and burly, bending down stocking shelves.
Emma cleared her throat. "Excuse me."
The young man pushed a flank of hair out his face and looked up at her smiling. His kind eyes put her instantly at ease. "Can I help you?"
"Yes, I'm looking for Language of Literature, but it's not where it's supposed to be."
"Really? I could have sworn a saw a stack of them earlier." The man stood up and Emma read his name tag—Greg.
She followed him back to where she looked for the book, trying to walk and clench at the same time. When they reached the section she’d just come from, he bent over. Emma tilted her head checking out his round ass. Her lustful gaze followed him as he picked up a book and turned to hand it to her. "Language of Literature. Here ya go."
The book had been on the bottom shelf while her other ones had been near the top. "What's it doing all the way down there? I'm in 153, which is up here."
"150 isn't a class, it's the books shared by all the classes 151-156, so you're going to need these other two also." Greg put two more books on theory in her arms.
She smiled. "Thank you." Relieved she could finally go home.
"Happy to help. College can be confusing at first, but people are good about explaining things and you'll have everything figured out in no time. Don't worry."
Emma remembered back to what Violet had said to her earlier that day. "I have that new freshman smell, don't I?"
Greg laughed. "That new freshman smell? You sound like...nevermind." He sniffed in her direction. "More of a lilac smell if you ask me."
Emma blushed, hoping her perfume masked the smell of sex and cum.
"So you want me to check those books out for you?"
Emma nodded.
Greg took the books and headed towards the front of the store. The books weren’t that heavy, and maybe he was just being a good employee, but Emma couldn't help but think it was sweet. His long stride was hard to keep up with when she could barely move without fear of those damn balls falling out. She was going to get Dylan good for this one.
As he scanned her books, his thick brown hair fell into his face again. He pushed the errant strands behind his ear in a gesture Emma found strangely sexy.
He smiled at her. "So, are you staying on campus?"
"Yeah. Well no," Emma stammered.
"Which one is it?"
"I have a place on campus, but mostly I stay off campus with..." Emma wasn't sure what to call him. Her owner? Her boyfriend? The billionaire that bought her? When Dylan told Clay Forrester about their relationship, he'd called her a 'good friend'. There was no reason she couldn't describe him the same way. "...a friend."
Greg nodded. "Cool. That'll be $329.64."
Emma handed him her credit card and ID.
He read her name off the ID. "Pleasure to meet you Emma."
"You too, Greg."
He handed her the bag with the books and her receipt.
Right as Emma turned to leave, Violet entered the bookstore making a b-line for her. But she didn’t even seem to be aware of Emma, her focus was on Greg when she spoke. "You will not believe what they did!"
"What's wrong, Violet?"
"The classroom we're supposed to meet in, I went there to set up and it's a storage room. First they fire our faculty advisor and now they give us a closet to hold our meetings in. It's obvious the patriarchal system that runs this school will not tolerate any kind of descent."
Greg patted Violet's shoulder. "Calm down. We just have to find somewhere else to meet. Who in the group has a place on campus?"
"Most of us are still in the dorms. None of us has a place that can hold fifteen to twenty people. We should hold our meeting right in the middle of the admin office. Show them that we will not accept this kind of treatment."
"You could use my place." Emma just blurted the words out.
Violet turned to Emma, acknowledging her existence for the first time since she'd come in. "Your place? Where is it?"
"Across the street from the Art building."
"Wait. You live in one of those condos? I thought only professors and staff could rent those."
Emma shrugged. "It has a lot of room. The living room can hold twenty people without a problem, will have to move some chairs around though."
Violet squeed. That sound and that face did not match. She pulled Emma into her arms and hugged her, which made Emma feel much better than it should have. "Princess, you're a life saver. What's your address so I can text it to everyone?"
Emma gave them the address, and then she remembered Jamal. "I have to go to the parking lot for a minute, but I'll be right back."
"Why?" asked Violet.
Emma really didn't want to answer. Violet has already made enough assumptions about her. "I need to tell my driver that I intend to stay on campus for a couple more hours."
Violet didn't say anything, but her grin said a thousand words.
For a brief moment, as Emma had watched Violet and Greg together, she'd almost forgotten about the Ben Wa balls inside her. But as she walked outside, the damn things started clanking again and she was once again made fully aware of them.
She found Jamal leaning against the Lexus. Before he could open the door for her, she stopped him. "I'm staying on campus for a while. Don't worry about picking me up. I can get a ride from someone else."
Jamal gave a small bow. "Turning into a party girl already, huh?”
Emma laughed, shaking her head as got back into the car and drove away.
By the time she’d walked the block and a half from the parking lot to the bookstore, (with her legs crossed) Greg's shift had ended, so she took them both over to her campus apartment.
Dylan had spared no expense when furnishing her place. The main room was massive. In the center of the room was a depression in the floor that held three couches, facing an entertainment center with a 60 inch television. The far wall was covered with windows that stretched from the floor to the ceiling.
A small glass dining room table sat in front of them, overlooking a gorgeous view. Her kitchen was against the back wall. A long black marble counter with barstools separated it from the living area.
Violet walked around like she owned the place. Emma followed her from room to room as Violet bounced on her bed, went through the drawers in her kitchen and touched the paints in her private studio. "Self-made? Huh, Princess?"
Emma rolled her eyes. "I never said that and I wish you’d stop calling me Princess."
Violet draped her arm over Emma’s shoulder. “Princess was only an insult when I wasn’t benefitting from your wealth. Now that we’re holding a meeting in the most smoking pad I’ve ever seen, Princess is a t
erm of endearment.”
Greg placed two bags on the kitchen counter. "Let's get unpacked for the meeting."
Emma finally decided to ask. "What's this meeting for anyway?" It didn’t matter. More than anything Emma simply wanted to fit in, even if they were holding a meeting for the Charlie Manson Fan Club, she would have let them use her place—then changed the locks.
"The campus feminist club," Violet said as she pulled a pretzel out of the bowl Greg had just filled.
Emma looked at Greg with surprise. "You're a feminist?"
He asked with equal incredulity, "You're not?"
Emma shrugged.
"Do you believe women and men should be treated equally?" Greg asked.
"Yeah, I do."
"Then you're a feminist."
"That's all to it?"
"Yep."
"Anything else is propaganda created to get women to act against their own self-interest," Violet added.
Before Emma could say more the bell rang. "I should get that."
One by one, people started to filing into Emma's apartment. Emma wanted to be polite and greet them all, but the Ben Wa balls rattling around inside her made that impossible. She parked herself on the couch and crossed her legs.
Greg sat down next to her and not at a friendly distance either. His wide strong arm was pressed against hers. He thrust his plate in her direction. “Chips? Dip?”
She took one of the chips and ran it through the ranch dip. “Thank you.”
“You know, I really like your hair.”
Emma ran her fingers through her curly mane. “Reggie showed me how to do it. It’s just wash and go with a couple of well-placed pins.”
“Reggie? Is that your boyfriend?”
Emma chuckled at the thought. “No, he’s my stylist.”
“Good. Well next time you go to him, tell him he does a fine job.”
“I’m sure he’ll be happy for the compliment. You know…” Emma took one of the butterfly pins out of her hair and crawled to her knees on the couch. She took those disobedient strands that loved to fall into Greg’s eyes and pinned them back.”
Greg smiled and asked, “How do I look?”
Emma laughed, shaking her head as she sat back down.
Violet stood in the center of the couches and started the meeting. “This is an awesome turn out for this year’s first meeting of GEM.”
Greg leaned down and whispered in Emma’s ear, “Gender Equality Movement.” His breath was warm and kind of minty. She realized he had gum and was holding out on her. She held out her hand and he immediately knew what she wanted and gave her a piece.
Violet continued. “There are a couple of things I want to go over before we get started. Ms. Philips is on sabbatical. The person who is taking over her classes is also our new faculty sponsor and advisor. Mrs. Randall texted me that she was running a bit late, but she will be here soon.
“Ms. Cobb here, who prefers Princess, but will accept Her Majesty, has graciously offered this space as our yearlong headquarters. And for that we will love her forever.”
Emma covered her face, smiling.
“The first order of business is recruitment. There is an campus fair this weekend and I’ve already gotten us a table between Health Services and the credit card apps because I’m a pro. Between the free condoms and free t-shirts, it’ll be the most packed spot on the quad.”
“The only problem is I’ve already agreed to help at the LGBT table, so Greg will need someone to pitch in.”
Greg turned to Emma. “You busy this weekend?”
“She probably has to wax her sports cars or something,” Violet teased.
Emma replied in her haughtiest voice. “Violet, darling, I have people for that.” Everyone laughed and for the first time since the day had started Emma felt as though she really fit in. “Sure Greg, I can help out this weekend. But I’m afraid I don’t know much about the club, this being my first meeting and all.”
“That’s fine. We can meet for lunch tomorrow and I’ll tell you all about it.”
Violet clapped her hands together. “Well, now that that’s settled—” The bell rang. “That must be our advisor.” Violet went to the door and pushed the talk button. “Who is it?”
“This is Mrs. Randall.” Even though there was a lot of static, the voice had a familiar ring to it.
Emma watched the door as Violet opened it and greeted the woman on the other side.
Miranda stepped into the apartment and scanned the room. Her eyes locked on Emma and her mouth fell open.
Emma didn’t know what to do. But she knew she wanted this woman out of her house. She ruined everything she touched.
Emma jumped up from the couch, ready to toss Miranda out on her ass.
Clank.
Clank.
The sound of two Ben Wa balls hitting the hardwood floor.
[End]
Thanks for reading. If you want to know when my next story comes out, check out my webpage: LoveLettersFromLexi.com