Today started like any other: the hum of campus, the chatter of students passing Bonin Hall, and my roommate blissfully unaware in her own world. I, on the other hand, had a plan.
Mr. Meraux .The has this way of moving that makes the floor feel like it’s shifting under you. Not loud, not flashy, just… deliberate. The kind of stride that says he knows exactly what he’s after, and the world might as well move aside. I saw him on campus today, leaning against the corner by the library steps, a crooked smile playing at his lips, and I swear, Diary, my stomach dropped.
By the time I got back to Bonin Hall, my roommate was out. Empty room. Quiet. Perfect. The trust in my gut told me this was safe, that I could let the day take me wherever it wanted...
I felt the pull before I even thought about it. That rush, the knowing, the heat curling up and down my spine. There’s a side to me that’s careful, the “good girl” side, but today, she didn’t stand in the way. My body aligned with his movements, the sly, patient way he takes his time, how he knows exactly when to press, when to pause. And in that quiet, alone space, I let myself lean into it, let my senses guide me without shame.
I got lost in it... The way he does things...the subtle power, it’s addictive. All those little things you don’t notice until you feel them inside. And I’m all in, every nerve and pulse, taking it slow, savoring the ride, my body marking the path he’s left behind, wanting more with every thought.
By the time the evening rolled in, I was still floating, still carrying him in every small motion I made across the room. My heart was racing, my skin buzzing, and that quiet confidence... unashamed.
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