Hearts On Campus

Chapter One

Katelyn

It’s my sanctuary, outside of the main campus library.

My dorm room.

I wouldn’t have made it until my final year if it wasn’t for this, having my own space. The only spare residential assistant room on campus.

It was an issue for all the other girls in the dorm until they decided amongst themselves that no one would want to share with me anyway, so they left me to my misery.

“Weirdo.”

“Nerd.”

“Lard ass.”

I can still hear it all muttered whenever I walk past anyone in my year.

Most people on campus, if I’m honest.

They snigger and giggle as they pass comments still, after four years they haven’t grown out of it, and I’ve never gotten over it.

Just learned to try to ignore it.

My room is my world when I don’t have to be out of it. The only place I feel safe and the one place nobody bothers me.

But an extended weekend, and everyone in the dorm leaving Campus except me?

Heaven.

It happens so rarely, I relish the idea and count the days until it’s finally the Friday before the weekend and there’s a sudden, almost eerie calm throughout the whole campus.

Throughout the whole world, it feels like, a majority of campus students and staff take three days off to do whatever it is they do outside of making my life miserable.

I’m caught up on all my assignments and there’s no need to study for finals any more than I already do.

Having a fuller figure and my own dorm room isn’t the only thing my fellow students hold against me.

This plain, slightly thicker nerdy girl is also no slouch when it comes to her grade point average.

Computer science is mostly a solo subject, but even my professors let me work alone on group projects because they know it’s just easier that way.

It does get lonely though sometimes but I have my books.

And not computer science books either.

My real books.

Books about real men, and how they treat their women.

How they spoil them. How they want them and most of all, how they pleasure them.

I used to think it was silly to fantasize so much about the ideal man, but when you’ve got nothing to work with but your imagination, it’s actually more rewarding than I first thought.

Except for the lack of a man in my life, but hey a girl can dream.

There is one real man on campus though.

But it’s silly.

I don’t ever dare think about that for too long. I’ve only seen him maybe once in four years.

He does sometimes pop up in my romance fantasies though when I read.

Sometimes.

Okay, like every time.

He’s the senior coach for the men’s gymnastics team. Don’t even know his name but every time I think about him I need to open a window, or my legs.

He’s an older guy, forty I’d guess. Built like a real athlete too, not like the football coaches who shout about their past achievements but only have a beer belly to show for it today.

No, this is a real man like I said.

Well over six feet, short dark hair, and a V-shaped torso that flexes under his tracksuit showing every inch of him is pure muscle.

I passed the gymnasium one time, taking a shortcut I daren’t repeat ever again.

It was after classes and he was on his own, didn’t see me watching him.

He’d stripped down to an athletic shirt and short shorts, using his huge powerful arms to mount the pommel horse after dusting his palms with chalk.

I held my breath, not daring to make a sound as I watched his powerful legs drawing closer together, his shoulders expanding as they took his weight.

The front of his shorts moving too, a different kind of weight moving there.

I shivered, feeling a slick wet heat forming instantly in my own front.

He used all his strength to hoist himself perfectly upright before he let out a disgusted cry of defeat and dismounted, clutching at his back.

Cursing himself for even trying.

His growl of failure met my own involuntary sound, more of a soft moan as I felt something deep inside me move with him.

Our eyes met, but only for a moment before I scurried off like some startled fat rabbit.

A guy like that, older or not. What could he ever possibly see in me?