whether she
even batted for the same team as me. I’d heard rumors about her but had no
concrete proof. She’d been really nice and helpful toward me ever since I’d
arrived at the academy, and we’d spent a lot of time together as a result of her
mentoring, but I still wasn’t sure. I was never sure, actually. I didn’t seem
to have the functioning gaydar that many people had, and as a result I’d spent
most of my adult life as a somewhat sad singleton. I was no virgin but I’d only
had a handful of encounters and they’d all been instigated either by the other
woman or alcohol.
I suspected some of the latter would be essential for me to
actually get the answer to my question. Especially since, if I got confirmation
from Nadia that she was into women, I then had to find out if she was into me .Christ, relationships were such a minefield. It was no wonder I couldn’t
remember the last time I’d had an orgasm that hadn’t been sparked by my own
hand or a sex toy.
After a glance at my watch told me I only had an hour to go
before the party started, I closed my eyes, put my hand into the wardrobe and
resolved to wear the first dress I touched. When my fingers brushed fabric I
opened my eyes and pulled out the dark-purple number I’d blindly selected.
Grabbing a pair of shoes that would go with the dress from the closet floor, I
closed the doors, hung my dress from the handle and put the shoes down. Then I
stripped off the clothes I’d worn all day and headed for the shower.
I deliberately took my time, washing and conditioning my
hair, brushing my teeth, applying body scrub all over—except my sensitive bits,
of course—shaving my legs, armpits and pussy then applying a generous layer of
shower gel. Once I was done, I was massively tempted to masturbate but I reasoned
with myself. The arousal that pumped through my veins, swelled my pussy lips
and resulted in a delicious sensation between my legs could be to my benefit.
That horniness would only increase when I saw Nadia, and perhaps the aching
need of my neglected body would spur me on to achieve my goal—getting into her
knickers. Or her heart, whichever came first. Or easiest.
Arriving in the function room five minutes into the party, I
was pleased with myself. One, for not being too early and looking like a saddo
or an alcoholic, and two, because I looked good. I didn’t often think that, but
the purple dress and black patent high heels made my legs look slim and a mile
long, and emphasized my athletic frame and ample chest. I showed just a hint of
cleavage—enough to entice, hopefully, but far from enough to make me look
cheap. Taking a deep breath, I headed straight for the bar and ordered a vodka
and Coke, my poison of choice. The bill for the party was being footed by the
academy and Travis Connolly’s sponsors, so I didn’t even have to pay. I could
get well lubricated for free before I executed my plan.
Knocking back the first drink, I signaled for another then
carried it farther into the room, subtly looking around to see who was already
there and who was yet to arrive. Unsurprisingly the main man hadn’t yet graced
us with his presence. Nor had Marie, and a smirk took over my lips as I
realized why. They’d just got engaged for heaven’s sake—they were probably
fucking each other’s brains out up in their hotel room. I couldn’t say I blamed
them. It had been an exciting day, especially for them, and they probably had
lots of adrenaline coursing through their veins. What better way to make use of
it?
Hoping I could make my day more exciting, I continued
to look around the room, which was filling in dribs and drabs. Austin and a
bunch of the academy staff and athletic sponsors were at a table in the corner,
already making a good start on bottles of expensive champagne by the looks of
it. In another corner, to my surprise, I spotted Peter Ross and Rufus Lampani
looking pretty cozy. As I tried to reason that maybe they were just
even batted for the same team as me. I’d heard rumors about her but had no
concrete proof. She’d been really nice and helpful toward me ever since I’d
arrived at the academy, and we’d spent a lot of time together as a result of her
mentoring, but I still wasn’t sure. I was never sure, actually. I didn’t seem
to have the functioning gaydar that many people had, and as a result I’d spent
most of my adult life as a somewhat sad singleton. I was no virgin but I’d only
had a handful of encounters and they’d all been instigated either by the other
woman or alcohol.
I suspected some of the latter would be essential for me to
actually get the answer to my question. Especially since, if I got confirmation
from Nadia that she was into women, I then had to find out if she was into me .Christ, relationships were such a minefield. It was no wonder I couldn’t
remember the last time I’d had an orgasm that hadn’t been sparked by my own
hand or a sex toy.
After a glance at my watch told me I only had an hour to go
before the party started, I closed my eyes, put my hand into the wardrobe and
resolved to wear the first dress I touched. When my fingers brushed fabric I
opened my eyes and pulled out the dark-purple number I’d blindly selected.
Grabbing a pair of shoes that would go with the dress from the closet floor, I
closed the doors, hung my dress from the handle and put the shoes down. Then I
stripped off the clothes I’d worn all day and headed for the shower.
I deliberately took my time, washing and conditioning my
hair, brushing my teeth, applying body scrub all over—except my sensitive bits,
of course—shaving my legs, armpits and pussy then applying a generous layer of
shower gel. Once I was done, I was massively tempted to masturbate but I reasoned
with myself. The arousal that pumped through my veins, swelled my pussy lips
and resulted in a delicious sensation between my legs could be to my benefit.
That horniness would only increase when I saw Nadia, and perhaps the aching
need of my neglected body would spur me on to achieve my goal—getting into her
knickers. Or her heart, whichever came first. Or easiest.
Arriving in the function room five minutes into the party, I
was pleased with myself. One, for not being too early and looking like a saddo
or an alcoholic, and two, because I looked good. I didn’t often think that, but
the purple dress and black patent high heels made my legs look slim and a mile
long, and emphasized my athletic frame and ample chest. I showed just a hint of
cleavage—enough to entice, hopefully, but far from enough to make me look
cheap. Taking a deep breath, I headed straight for the bar and ordered a vodka
and Coke, my poison of choice. The bill for the party was being footed by the
academy and Travis Connolly’s sponsors, so I didn’t even have to pay. I could
get well lubricated for free before I executed my plan.
Knocking back the first drink, I signaled for another then
carried it farther into the room, subtly looking around to see who was already
there and who was yet to arrive. Unsurprisingly the main man hadn’t yet graced
us with his presence. Nor had Marie, and a smirk took over my lips as I
realized why. They’d just got engaged for heaven’s sake—they were probably
fucking each other’s brains out up in their hotel room. I couldn’t say I blamed
them. It had been an exciting day, especially for them, and they probably had
lots of adrenaline coursing through their veins. What better way to make use of
it?
Hoping I could make my day more exciting, I continued
to look around the room, which was filling in dribs and drabs. Austin and a
bunch of the academy staff and athletic sponsors were at a table in the corner,
already making a good start on bottles of expensive champagne by the looks of
it. In another corner, to my surprise, I spotted Peter Ross and Rufus Lampani
looking pretty cozy. As I tried to reason that maybe they were just
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