Witch's Link

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Chapter 2 ~ The Dorm

I wake up startled by the blaring of my alarm clock going off! Music comes on, and it’s ’Uninvited’ by Alanis Morissette. Isn’t that ironic?

I had a feeling I wasn’t going to have time to take a shower this morning. So, I took one late last night before I crashed in my bed, only wearing a tank top with no panties under my pajama bottoms.

My hand is down my pajama bottoms, it was there when I awoke. My body is burning with a sexual fire that needs to be quenched. The thought of HIM, my mystery man, has my body primed for a release.

I close my eyes. My index and middle fingers circle the area in which my desires are most rampant, making my breathing start to become deeper. My fingers play all around my erotic zone as I press down on my clit every so often, feeling it pulse with my heartbeat.

I am rubbing, and it feels so good, but it’s not enough. So with my eyes closed, I think of my mystery sex beast. In my mind, I continue the fantasy.

He lowers himself down to my panty line. My fingers rub and rub..... He slips them off of my tight calves that feel his caress. My mouth opens to exhale, then I hold my breath again. His head disappears between my legs. My orgasm is starting to build as I feel his hot breath on my lady parts down low. His tongue slips out of his mouth, like a snake’s tongue, and flicks my......

“Buzz… Buzz…” Interrupts my thoughts, the sound of my cell phone vibrating on the nightstand, dancing around, like it’s going to fall off the edge.

“DAMN!” I say as I grit my teeth, and rub more fervently, trying to get myself off. I lost it… my orgasm. But most importantly, I lost the fantasy with him.

“Great,” I say to myself.

“Another wet dream, and no satisfaction.”

I roll over, hitting my face into the pillow. “FUUUUUCK,” I shout as hot air heats up my face from my exhalation, turning it pink. Laying there frustrated and tired, I roll over in a huff.

I calm myself by taking in deep breaths and sit up slowly, toss the covers off of me and hesitantly throw my tight legs off the side of the bed.

“My God, I’m so tired,” I whisper under my breath, letting out a sigh while wiping away the evidence of uneasy rest from my eyes; watering as I yawn. The sun shines brightly through the window as I watch little dust particles swirl around in its warm rays, and head to the shower to clean up my sticky, sweaty body, from my failed attempt of release.

What good did it do me to take a shower last night? I had to take one this morning anyway.

I say with a gruff voice, “Mmmm... Co-ff-eeee!”

Toweling off, I wrap it around my still damp body, tucking in one of the corners between my breasts. Flipping my head over, I grab a neatly folded Turbie Twist. Placing the cap at the nape of my neck, and push my long wet hair into the folds of the towel. I twist it and stand up as I take the end with the elastic loop, and stretching it over the button to hold it in place.

“Whoa!” head rush. I grab onto the counter for stability, with my eyes closed and my head down. It only takes a few seconds before I feel clearheaded and make my way to the bedroom.

I made my bed quickly and straightened the picture of my mother and I, sitting together on the porch swing at grandmother’s. I must have knocked it over while I was sleeping. She looks so frail. Her eyes and cheeks sunken in on her gray, ghostly complexion. Her hair had finally started growing back in, and she let me help style her short, dull, chemo curls.

“Practically skin and bones,” I mutter, kissing my fingertips, placing them over where her heart would be.

“I miss you, mom.” The picture was taken just a few months before she died. I turn away from her picture. Looking around my dorm room, I wondered what my life would have been like if she were still here. Would I still have ended up here, or would I be going to a public school and not have everything I ever need or want, here on campus? Grandmother spoils me.

My room is compared to a luxury suite at the most prestigious hotels. It should have a couple of twin beds, dressers and I would typically share the closet with some stranger, but not me. I have my own suite, a queen bed, comfy plush couch, entertainment area and even my own ensuite. That’s just a fancy word for a bathroom. All of this, does it make me content? I mean, most of the time I am alone. I’d much rather have my mom back.

Don’t get me wrong, I am happy. Happy enough, but I’ve always felt a yearning. Most of my life, I have had this feeling that I am missing something. That I am not whole. A nagging, aching feeling, like I am searching for something or someone. Sometimes I feel like I’m not really alone, and I’m not talking about not having any friends because… sure, I have them, I mean who doesn’t, right? It feels like someone or something is watching me. My own personal guardian angel, I guess.

I walk over to the bench, at the end of my bed, picking up the clean underwear and bra laying next to the clothes I left there last night.

My phone started to vibrate, and I knew it must be another text message from Brian. Picking it up, I read.

---- Friday, March 30 ----

Brian: We need to talk

Brian: Don’t ignore me, Sam!

I reply quickly to get him to stop texting me. I place my hand, the one not holding my phone, on my belly. My stomach feels queasy just thinking about it. No! I don’t want to deal with this. Not right now!

Me: I’m busy. Not now!

Speaking of friends, Brian Conners had been my guy friend for the last year and a half. Yes, he was my friend. At least that is how I saw it, but he thought of us more as ‘friends with benefits’ or wanted it to be. It almost ended up that way because we went to a party one night, off campus, where things got a little wild. Wild for me, that is.

I shake that thought away as I hear footsteps in the hallway and grab my jeans, still sitting on the bench. I slide into them like a glove and head to the walk-in closet for a blouse.

“Sam!” I heard from the doorway as I frantically brushed my wet hair and threw it up into a ponytail. “Samantha! Are you ready?” It was my house mate and best friend, Josie.

“Just a minute,” I said through a mouth full of toothpaste. What good did it do me to take a shower last night? I had to take one this morning anyway. Since I haven’t been sleeping well for the last several months, due to the romantic rendezvous with my mystery man. I asked Josie to make sure I was up this morning, before she left for work.

Josie Maine has been my best friend since kindergarten. She is like my very own overprotective sister, except we don’t look anything alike. She is beautiful; has dark black silky hair, emerald green eyes, flawless porcelain skin and a cheerleader’s body. Although she is a bit taller than me, we share clothes, and she looks amazing in whatever she wears. That’s my jealousy seeping out, if you didn’t notice.

Our moms were the best of friends. Her mom always looked at me with sad eyes, like she knew something I didn’t know, and it made her feel sorry for me. I remember asking my mom about it once, and she just shrugged it off like I was imagining it.

Josie and I live in a dorm, but really it’s kind of like an apartment because we have the whole first floor to ourselves. There are three other identical bedrooms besides ours, and I never really knew why they were not occupied by other students. Maybe my grandmother had something to do with that? Anyhow, I like it this way. We can be as loud and obnoxious whenever we want.

I head to the common area, a place I would just call an open concept living room and kitchen, but Josie likes calling it the common area. I pour myself a huge cup of caffeine, not really paying much attention to what I am doing. I stare off and try to remember the explanation for my sleepless nights…

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