Best Summer of Our LivesbyGoodyGoodyTwoShoes©
Fisher wasn't the type of guy who fucked a girl just because she had a pussy and he had a cock. He was raised better than that. For that reason, and that reason alone, he had yet to have any of those college experiences that the lore speaks of.
That was, until he met Annabelle.
He'd always been a quiet, reserved kind of guy. He wasn't a virgin, but he had a lot less notches on his belt than other guys, so to speak.
Fisher had no idea how much his life, and sexual outlook would change when he enrolled for a summer semester course.
He made his way into the lecture hall, just as the other students were for history of western civilization. He took a seat in the center and off to the side.
Fisher was early. He was always early to everything, another trait his parents instilled in him.
One after another, students filed into the room, but his eyes were drawn to one.
He wasn't able to lock on one of her features. His eyes darted all over her as she bounced up the stairs at the side of the room. Her sandy blonde hair was pulled into a ponytail over one shoulder, the end of it stopped between her shoulders and chest. She wore jean shorts that weren't Daisy Duke's but they left plenty of her thick thighs for him to enjoy. Her generous cleavage jiggled happily beneath her tank top.
"Sit near me, please sit near me," his inner voice screamed, and then fought with itself. "No don't, please don't. I need to pay attention."
The young woman stopped on his row and he sank down in his seat.
"I'm a gentleman, gentlemen don't stare," he silently said while tapping his pen on his forehead.
She took a seat near him, leaving a desk between them. His heart sped up as he glanced over to see her pulling a spiral notebook out of her bag. From the corner of his eye, he saw her tits practically spilling out of the tiny top that she was wearing. He slumped further into his seat, anymore he would fall out of the chair.
She caught his eyes and smiled a bright smile. Love at first sight? Maybe. He never believed in it before, but if there was such a thing, the butterflies rapidly fluttering around in his gut and the tingles that ran throughout his being proved it.
Fisher took a quick moment to admire her luscious lips that framed her mouth. Her whole body glowed when she smiled.
The corner of his lips rose up in a lop sided smile. He tried for more, but couldn't seem to make his muscles work.
"God, I'm a dork," he thought as he turned his attention to the front of the room. "I can't even smile correctly at her."
The class went by typically.
Handouts were passed down the rows. His hand grazed hers for a spilt second. He swore that he felt sparks and by the pink on her makeup-less cheeks, he believed that she felt it too.
He struggled to pay attention to Professor Morgan for the first hour, while sneaking peeks at the pretty girl nearby. Each time he did, he mentally chided himself, and then chided himself for chiding.
When the students returned from their break, the professor told the class to get to know the people around them for study partners, for someone to call if they missed a class, and what not.
"Shit," he thought. "I have to talk to her now."
She immediately turned to the person behind her. He was thankful, for it would give him another minute or two to compose his thoughts.
He went through the motions of writing down names and phone numbers of various students around him. Then, she moved over to the empty desk that was between then.
He turned to see that same lovely smile greet him.
"Hey, I'm Annabelle," she stated, extending her hand towards him.
He took her hand in his and she immediately gripped his hand with a firm shake. He liked that. It showed confidence.
She withdrew her hand, and then twirled the end of her ponytail in her fingers. He got lost for a moment in a lovely set of green eyes that were set behind the purple frames of her glasses.
"Fisher?" She repeated his name with an adorable raise of a brow. Her voice was gentle. "That's an interesting name."
He shrugged it off, having heard that statement countless times in his life. "It's an old family name."
"Really?" Her expression lit up. "That's really cool. I wish I could say something interesting like that. Annabelle is just Annabelle." She waved her hand in front of her. "My parents liked it, that's all I got."
"Annabelle is a lovely name." He was nowhere near a master flirt, but he went for it anyway. "A lovely name for a lovely girl."
Her cheeks turned pinker and she giggled. He wished he knew what she was thinking. It would have either eased his nerves or set them bolting in a thousand different directions.
Annabelle was just so pretty. She wasn't the hottest girl on campus, but she could take a run at the most adorable. He was hooked, and he was sure that any man lucky enough to talk to her felt the same. She wasn't a tiny skinny model, she had meat on her bones, something to squeeze and hold onto. Another thing he liked.
Fisher must have gotten lost in his thoughts, because she poked him to get his attention.
"You're not going to ask me for my number?" she teased. "I thought that was what we were supposed to be doing here."
"Oh, um, yeah," he stuttered. His fingers fumbled with his pen. The writing utensil betrayed him by rolling off of his desk and falling to the floor.
Annabelle giggled again. It wasn't at him, he didn't think, but he was still embarrassed. She had a cute giggle. He wanted to hear it more often.
She reached down to pick it up for him. On the way, he watched her tits again. Another mental lash.
"What's gotten into me," he mentally grimaced. "I'm sure guys look at her breasts all the time. I don't want to be every other guy." He shook off his thoughts as she handed the pen back to him.
They traded notebooks and Annabelle wrote her name and number upside down on the bottom corner of the page in green ink. She smiled to herself as she drew little daisies on each side of her name. Fisher wrote in his information in her notebook in a typical male style.
"Now that you have my number, you should call me sometime," she commented with a flirty wink as she handed his spiral back to him.
"Sure, I like to study with other people. It keeps it interesting." He said to his desk, and then mentally face-palmed himself, realizing that was his cue to flirt with her. Fisher tried for a smooth recovery before she had a chance to speak, "Or to meet up for coffee?" His voice rose up, unsure if he was asking a question or making a statement.
Annabelle's eyes traveled over to him again. Her eyes locked on his hazel eyes, which had a gorgeous amount of green in them. She considered his question for a moment, drawing out the silence to tease him a little. She smirked while looking over his neatly trimmed dark brown hair.
"I don't know," she paused again, "that sounds like a date to me." Her fingers tapped on her desk. "We've just met, isn't that soon to be asking a girl out?"
Fisher spoke slowly to make sure the words didn't come out all jumbled as he talked. "Lots of people study at coffee shops. I wasn't asking you on a date."
Her honey colored brow rose again and her lips folded into a pout. She slumped back in her chair with her arms folded under her chest. "Too bad," was her simple quiet remark.
Another mental face-palm for Fisher. "Fuck, what am I doing?" he silently questioned himself. He wasn't sure if she was teasing or if she was serious. What he was sure of though, was that she was getting under his skin in the best of ways. He always got nervous around girls and this was definitely no different.
Professor Morgan saved him from his mental whip lashing. "All right, everyone, the person you are talking to right now will be your partner for all of your projects for this class. The first one is due in two weeks, so you'll be getting to know this classmate extremely well in the coming weeks."
Fisher felt like he couldn't be any smaller at that moment. He felt Annabelle's eyes on him and heard a cute little excited squeal emanate from her lips.
"Looks like we will be buddies," she said, wiggling in her seat with excitement.
He looked over at her to make sure she hadn't begun talking to another student. He was still with her. Good. Well, good, with a little bad. He had already embarrassed himself, but hopefully with time, it would pass. Or, get worse. He wasn't sure which.
Annabelle stayed in the seat next to him for the remainder of the class. His sneaky glances continued for the next hour.
He felt like she was a year or two older than him. She didn't look older. However, there was something in the way that she carried herself that led him to believe that she was.
He also wondered how he would handle being her class partner. It definitely wasn't something to complain about. He felt lucky to at least have the excuse to be around her. However, he would have to keep his cool if he wanted to get to know her more than just study and project partners.
When class ended, Fisher packed up his backpack. Annabelle was waiting for him at the end of the row with a sweet smile painted on her face. His heart leapt into his throat as he approached her.
She waited until they had gone down a couple of steps before speaking. "Are you taking any other classes this summer?"
He nodded. His voice came out strained as he replied, "Just a boring marketing class. How about you?"
"No, just this one. I need to slip it in and don't have a lot of time in the normal semesters to get a lot of other courses in besides my English courses."
"Why is that?"
They headed for the door side by side. He held it open for her and she smiled again as she passed through.
"Well, when you have a full time job, and go to school full time, trying to get everything done gets tricky and takes a lot of planning. You know?"
He nodded. He understood, though he didn't have a job. His father was putting him through school and his only focus was to graduate. He didn't have much else to worry about.
Annabelle continued before he could get a word in. "This should be my last year, I hope. Or, maybe a year-and-a-half." She sighed. "I spent two years not knowing what I was doing, so I took a lot of classes I didn't need. Trying to feel things out. I settled, finally on creative writing, but now, I want to get done as soon as possible."
Fisher tried doing the math in his head to figure out how old she was. Two years, but still taking an introduction course, a necessary class for all majors, but she seemed ready to graduate. She was still talking and he felt rude for not listening. He shut off the worry he had about her age. After all, age was just a number.
"I also was wasting a lot of time during the 'feeling things out,' process. I took lots of classes and spent a lot of money, which I'll be paying off until the day I die. Sure, I learned a lot, but now I sometimes feel like I pinned myself into a corner. My advisor suggested I take summer courses, so here I am. I have to work a lot in the summer, so I didn't want to overload myself. Honestly, didn't want to take a summer class at all, which is why this is my first one."
They went down two flights of stairs and then a few steps over to the doors leading outside. He held the door open for her again. She looked up a few inches to his eyes and thanked him with a bow of her head as she passed through. She liked that he opened the doors for her.
Fisher once again walked next to her, unsure of where they were going as Chicago's blue sky and June sun bathed them with warmth. But, he wanted to keep talking to her, or listening rather, as it had been so far.
Annabelle pushed her glasses up on her nose. "So, that's my story. I've been blabbing your ear off. Tell me about you."
He hooked his thumbs into the bottom of the straps of his backpack and shrugged. "There isn't much to tell, really."
She chuckled, "Aw, come on. I'm sure there is."
"Well, I'm pretty boring. I don't know what to say."
"Everyone is a little boring. Come on. Tell me, something, anything." She flashed him that pout again. "Don't make me feel bad for blabbing."
"I'm studying business. My favorite color is blue. I have a younger sister who goes to UIC."
The pair passed by the courtyard where some students were playing Frisbee, and a few others scattered around in small groups enjoying the sunshine.
Annabelle laughed again. "Okay, well, maybe you are boring."
Her tone was teasing, but he slumped his shoulders a little bit.
She reached over and patted his shoulder over his t-shirt. "Calm down, I was joking." Her hand lingered for a moment before she pulled away. "I do that sometimes, you better get used to it if we're going to be buddies."
Her touch had sent a shockwave of warmth through his body.
"I'll try," he said, trying to tease her back, but he was pretty sure that it didn't come out that way.
They walked in silence for a couple of moments before she turned her head to him again.
"Are you following me?" she asked with a playful smile. "Can't get enough of me already?"
He was following her. There was no way he would admit that, but he was. "Actually, umm," an awkward pause lingered, "I was going to grab some lunch and that's in this general direction."
"Ah, so you are following me. I'm doing the same. I'm not in the mood for a sandwich at home."
They shared smiles and chuckles, and then continued their way to the student union. Fisher followed her to the food court area where they each picked up a meal He stayed near her the entire time, not wanting to seem too clingy, but he didn't want to lose her either.
"Would you like to eat lunch with me?" Annabelle smiled, holding a chopped spinach salad in her hands.
Without hesitation, he answered, "Sure."
After paying for their meals, they found seats at a table among a herd of other students.
Fisher opened up his chicken nuggets after placing a napkin underneath his French fries. He watched as she drizzled dressing over her salad, put the lid back on, and then shook it to spread the dressing around. He had never thought of doing that before and made a mental note to give it a shot next time he had a salad.
The pair shared common conversation about their lives. He learned that she had an apartment in the city, worked as a manager at a bookstore, and had a crazy, but loveable dog. She did most of the talking, as he fought with his nerves, too scared to say anything stupid to a pretty girl.
Annabelle stabbed her fork repeatedly through her salad. "I really love giving blow jobs. It's my favorite sexual act." Her tone was shockingly casual. She filled her mouth with spinach greens and chewed with her eyes locked on his, gaging his reaction.
He cocked his head back at the sudden way that she brought up the topic of sex. He wasn't a prude, but talking about sex with a practical stranger wasn't something he was used to. His mind started reeling, picturing her licking, teasing, kissing, and sucking his cock.
She liked his shy silence. After she swallowed, she continued as she filled up her fork again, "I don't get why some girls don't like it or are grossed out by it. There's nothing like hot flesh on my tongue and hearing a man groan for me while I pleasure him." She visibly shivered. "Or of course, looking up into his eyes with his cock buried in my throat."
Fisher shifted in his seat as his member began to fill with blood. He felt his cheeks heating up and rapidly changing different shades of red. His thought process was filled with nothing but imagining her lips wrapped around his flesh.
Her fork hung in the air, as if eating was a side note to her at the moment. "What I don't get even more are girls who are afraid of cum. It's delicious. I adore a man's seed and it should be treated with respect, not spit out or washed down the drain." She closed her eyes and whimpered softly. "I love the taste of it, the warmth, the texture." Her eyes opened again. "All of it."
"Uh huh," Fisher mumbled. He blinked his eyes repeatedly. He hadn't taken a bite since this part of the conversation had begun.
Annabelle smirked at him, and then took the bite that she had been holding on to. She gave him a couple of moments to speak and inwardly smiled as his cheeks continued to change colors. Her eyes trailed down to her salad before returning to his.
"Am I making you uncomfortable?"
"No, no. I just," he looked for the right words, "I've never met anyone who talked so openly about sex before."
Her shoulders rose up in a shrug as she dropped her fork on top of her half eaten lunch. "Why shouldn't people be? I mean, everyone does it, whether they admit it or not." She sipped from her water bottle. "Everyone has their opinions, their ideas, just like politics. And, it's a hell of a lot better to talk about than politics."
"You're right," he said. His eyes fell to her breasts for a second and he watched her chest rise and fall with her breaths. He could have sworn that she pushed out her chest, presenting it for him. His gaze wandered around to the other people sitting nearby.
"Of course I am." Her tone was pleased and pleasant. "So, what's your favorite sexual act?"
Fisher wondered if this was a test that she gave to guys she would consider dating. So, he answered honestly after his eyes settled back on her face. "Kissing."
Annabelle pursed her lips to one side and nodded. "Kissing." She repeated with her lips rising up into a smile. "Kissing is probably the most intimate act between two people. Funny, because it's usually what comes first. But, compared to penetration, which can be done from multiple positions, multiple ways, when you kiss someone, it's a deeper connection."
They continued their conversation throughout eating lunch, drifting back and forth from sex to more common topics. The pair stayed and chatted a little longer until Fisher bid her farewell for the day because he had to get going to his next class.
Before separating in the sunshine, Annabelle stopped in her tracks. He realized that she wasn't walking anymore, and then turned to her.
"Can I give you a hug?" she asked sheepishly in a cute little girl voice.
"Absolutely." He smiled broadly.
Annabelle stepped into his embrace and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. His arms went around her lower back and he held her to him, enjoying the feeling of her body pressed against his. She didn't move much, but enough to softly rub her breasts into his firm chest. The top of her head was nestled just below his chin. He didn't want to let go, but released her at the first sign of movement.
She pulled away and grinned up at him. "Thanks. I hug my friends."
He matched her smile and his heart warmed up from her words. "I'm your friend?"
"Oh yes." She kissed his cheek. "Have a good day, Fisher. See you in class."
He wanted to say something in response, but all he got out was, "You too," before she was bouncing away.
"Wow," he said with a heavy exhale. "She's something special."
He spent the rest of his day with his mind filled with thoughts of his new friend. Of course he wanted sex with her, she had done a fantastic job at planting that seed, but he also wanted to know everything about her. Fisher knew that he wasn't the type of guy to fuck a girl just because he could. He needed a connection with the girl. Though, his mind toyed with the idea of being inside of her.
Fisher was just about to leave his dormitory on Thursday night to grab some dinner when his cell phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and to his surprise, he saw, "Annabelle" lighting up the screen. His heart sped up and he took a couple of deep breaths before answering.
"Hello," he said as calmly as he could.