my first foray into kink romance literature - Camgirl Story: Chapter 01

[Penner]

One day I watched way too much Community roughly at the same time I had a bunch of kinky ideas. This is the first chapter of the result, and the first kink thing I've ever published! Much thanks to Gomai and FreshOuttaHex, who looked over this before I finished it. - http://fav.me/ddby54p

I've included the first quarter of the text here, as a clever ruse to potentially get readers to click the link and check out the rest of it. I don't go all hot-and-heavy right off the bat, but I hope you like character arcs and world-building that don't jam themselves into your face; I can do those all day. I hope you enjoy it!

***

We'd first met at the dining commons, though we hadn't known at the time. She was busy on a laptop and I was busy eating. Her attention only wandered from her work to watch me valiantly try to finish my sandwich before it collapsed into a disaster of cold cuts and tomato slices. I repeated the performance, much more messily with a meatball sub almost a year later, and jogged her memory.

Our accounting classes were where we acquainted ourselves. At first we'd just find ourselves within a few chairs of each other, both of us staking claim to nearby clusters of seats as creatures of habit. Sitting behind her one day, I caught a view of her notes from over her shoulder. Figuring that she looked to be working as hard as I was, as opposed to mentally storing data and delineating the lectures down to necessary bullet points in seconds like the savants composing most of our classmates, I said hello and started a chat.

“I'm Will,” I'd said toward the end of the conversation.

“You and half the guys in the south dorms,” she'd said.

“You know half the guys in the south dorms?” I'd said.

She’d blushed a little, waved it off, tried not to look embarrassed. “Sorry! I'm, uh, Anna. I've got to run. My next lecture is across campus. See you next class?” She’d taken off as I’d waved her goodbye for the first time. She was surprised when I later told her the whole interaction left a sour taste in my mouth, because apparently I left a good first impression on her.

***

I want to get this out of the way: using responsible pragmatism as a bad faith pretext for cozying up to someone is a garbage idea. I really was just interested in her notes at first.

Our friends ragged on us after we got together. Said they saw it miles away. Said they thought we were dumb for taking so long. Said I should’ve asked Anna out the second I met her. That’s not how we worked when we met. She wasn't interested in me, and I wasn’t interested in her. Her sense of humor, heavy on the snarkiness, wasn't my thing at first. It took getting to know her better for me to appreciate it.

Besides, outside of class, I'd learned to dress to flatter myself the year before. I was drawing more and more gazes from unexpectedly pretty women. It was nice, feeling attractive all of the sudden! Without any mutual interest between Anna and me, what other choice was there but to focus on the women who were focusing on me?

When I was first getting to know her, Anna was more unassuming than most of the classmates I had met by then. The craziest thing about her that I knew early on was that she went clubbing sometimes, but only with friends; never alone. She wore sweatpants and oversized hoodies to our shared lectures most of the time. She didn't seem to be hiding much underneath the baggy clothes besides snark and smarts.

I did spot her downtown once during the fall. I was surprised to see her in slim-fit jeans and a tank top. Pretty, absolutely, but I didn't find her rail-thinness particularly eye-catching. I would learn later that this was a trick.

We both joined a study group later (how we met most of our mutual friends), because Business Statistics was awful. We hated it, and in our shared hatred we sought others whose loathing was similar in measure. After a couple of weeks of getting to know one another, we'd all head downtown to the Barracuda or the Dauntless and get drinks once the studying for the day was done. Everyone would chatter, banter, get close as a social circle, you know.

The lot of them caught me staring down the shirt of one of our hostesses one night, as she threatened to wobble out of her boatneck shirt while delicately setting down a tray of drinks for us. Everyone gave me miles of shit the second she was out of earshot. I took the ribbing well; it was worth the laugh. That moment followed me around for the rest of the year, someone poking me about it if we did as much as wander past a bosomy mannequin.

The later we stayed out, the more the others would trickle out until it was just Anna and me. That's where we got to really know each other, in those hours when the sun crept off toward another hemisphere, leaving us to our extracurriculars without disturbing us.

She learned that I got into the Accounting major because I'd wanted to make decent money. I thought that putting myself near it would help with that. She tried to restrain herself, but she couldn’t hold back the eyeroll when I said it.

Anna though, I learned, was majoring in Web Design, with an Accounting minor. She wanted to start her own web business and to be as self-sufficient as possible. I thought it was admirable, though she was cagey on the specifics. In and out of class, she was whip-smart and decisive, qualities about her that I really liked. She's funny, warm when it counted, and… really pretty, you know?

***

Late February, the flu hit like an unstoppable, sputum-dribbling serial mugger, robbing students things like health, comfort, and the useful application of their time. It would set a campus record. Some folks suspected it was a new archuman, a bacteriopath or something, testing out developing powers (I suggested to friends that if that were the case then maybe whoever it was didn't understand how to control it). It turned out that it was just one bastard who got sick and decided licking all the doorknobs in his dorm hall would make for a great prank was all. I think there was a lawsuit involved? I didn’t follow it.

I dodged the flu though, and so did Anna. We were shocked at how empty the lecture hall was the day after the administration announced that the illness was officially a problem. I was also shocked at how she'd dressed for class.

She walked in wearing a loose, draped cowl-neck top and these tight black hip-huggers. The top was the flashiest thing I'd ever seen her wear: electric blue, shimmering, and plunging in the neckline. If I was a collarbone man, I may have been riddled with furious lust then and there. She took a seat behind me, getting a whole empty row to herself.

“Did I mention that you look great?” I said, getting in conversation before the lecture started. “Because, honestly, wow.”

“Thanks!” she said, smiling. “I figure I ought to dress to kill, seeing as how we're rapidly dwindling on the healthy male front. Gotta edge out every other pretty coed before the rest of you die off.”

I let the joke hang in the air for a moment, as was our custom when we said patently ridiculous things.

She shrugged, still smiling. “I'm going clubbing later tonight with a few friends. Gonna do my hair, trowel on some makeup in the bathroom, get drinks, and dance with boys.” She snapped her fingers and bobbed her head to some imaginary beat. Our professor started the lecture shortly afterward.

As I thought about her outfit in an amount of depth that was… obvious in retrospect, I felt confused. Hip-huggers, though? I didn't remember her having hips. Granted, I was working off a flash of memory several months old and she was clearly making it work in the here-and-now. I shrugged it off.

I was completely unaware of the mischievous smile crossing Anna’s face, though down the line she'd happily tell me all about it.

“Hey, do you have a pen I could borrow?” she asked.

I fished into my bag for a spare. When I turned to hand it back to her, I couldn't help but hesitate. Her arms were crossed under her chest, gently squeezing herself together. The satin of her top was pulled tightly across her breasts, and the material seemed… less rumpled than it had been? I'd never seen her cleavage before. I didn’t think she had cleavage to see. It was, uh, quite nice.

She stared back, into my eyes and heavy on the disapproval. “Dude,” she said, hands motioning from her chest to her face. “Eyes up here. Pen please.”

I blinked and remembered myself. “Oh, I'm so sorry,” I hastily apologized, handing her the pen.

She snatched it out of my hand, faux-indignant. “Whatever,” she said.

After maybe fifteen minutes of lecture, something whizzed by my head. It landed on my shoe before clattering to the floor at my feet.

“Oh dammit!” Anna whispered from behind me. “That was mine, I’m sorry. Could you pass that back?”

I was reaching for it, a palm-sized pocket calculator, before she even asked. I turned to hand it back to her, and my mind.

Stopped.

I could’ve sworn that the material of Anna’s top wasn’t stretched over her breasts like it was now. It made her seem… stacked? The kind of stacked that got nasty pornstar- and back-pain-centric remarks. Cantaloupe-sized. That couldn’t be right. I mean, where the hell could she have been hiding them?

I went physically slack-jawed. I was staring, and staring really hard.

And she caught me staring, snapping at me like a sexy, inviting bear trap. Her hands shot up in the universal what-the-hell-is-wrong-with-you gesture, and her breasts moved. They jerked upward and jiggled so much, I swear they took full seconds to stop moving completely.

“What,” she quietly hissed. “Is your deal today? I swear, I show up in something low-cut with a push-up one day and suddenly you can’t take your eyes out of my cleavage.” I didn’t notice her trying really hard not to smile as she reamed me out.

“Uhhhhh,” I said, suffused with the most confused, uncertain sense of arousal I’d ever felt in my life.

Anna leaned forward to reach for the calculator, and her flesh tremulously lurched forward and bulged. Bulging in that taut, shimmering shirt. She noticed, rolling her eyes as she grabbed my wrist in one hand and yanked the calculator out of my grip with the other. “You are such a boy, christ.”

She then slid it down into her cleavage. When she pulled her fingertips out from between her breasts, that calculator was nowhere to be seen. My eyes, wide, were unblinking. I felt them begin to gently itch.

She jabbed her finger toward the front of the class. “Stop looking, pay attention,” she tried to hiss, suppressing giggles I was too gobsmacked to process.

Something in my brain was still working though, and I slowly turned back to mindlessly watch the professor talk. I eventually recovered my senses, but didn’t dare look back to Anna for the rest of the class. When the lecture wrapped I felt something drop in my lap: my pen.

“Thanks,” I heard Anna say.

I reflexively looked back to her, only to watch her sauntering down the row of seats toward the nearest exit.

She later told me that she hadn't decided I was cute yet. She did think it was a hilarious trick to pull on me though. I thought I was going crazy, I really did. Anna thought that made it even funnier.

***

[SinisterTwin]

Thanks for posting! An interesting story so far, looking forward to seeing more.