How Diana Overcame Her Shyness Ch. 02

CHAPTER TWO

As it turned out, there never was a third date. Not as such, anyway.

For Diana the next couple of days were a blur of desire and confusion, with more than a little bit of guilt mixed in. She was conservative by nature and nice girls simply didn’t do what she had done, in her opinion, especially with a man she hardly knew. She felt as though she were blushing continuously, as images from that evening appeared and reappeared in her mind, over and over.

And yet, she realized, James had been right: she felt calmer, more centered and more self-confident. She was aware of a new sensuousness in her walk, as if someone had lubricated her hips. This proved to be a source of distraction, however, as it also constantly drew her attention between her legs, an area she had largely ignored in the past.

This in turn became another source of embarrassment and guilt. She had woken up the next morning, still half-dreaming, to discover her nightgown rucked up and her hand cupping and squeezing her vagina. And instead of quickly removing it she had allowed herself to drift back into her dream/memory of James touching and tonguing her there, using the tip of her middle finger to stroke her clitoris as she did so. But she had stopped almost immediately when a moan tried to force its way past her lips, as her roommate was still sleeping just a few feet away.

And it had been like that for two entire days: desire and guilt, guilt and desire. She was normally an excellent student but the memories and fantasies left no room in her mind for anything else.

She had to leave one class in the middle of a lecture when she suddenly became aware that beneath her desk-chair she was using the edge of her thumb to stroke herself through her pants as she re-lived, over and over, the moment when James had yanked off her panties and spread her legs apart; the way she had felt, looking up at him, completely surrendered to whatever he might choose to do with her. As she’d snapped out of her feverish imaginings she’d been horrified to look down and discover that she’d become so aroused that some of her moisture had leaked entirely through her panties and created a very small but entirely visible dark patch in the crotch of the light tan fabric of her pants. She’d had to pick up her books and notebook and flee, holding everything awkwardly in front of her, and retreat to her room to change.

She desperately wanted to see James again, of course. She wanted to tell him everything she’d been going through; wanted to see the understanding and acceptance in his eyes; wanted him to hold her and soothe her and tell her that everything was all right.

Wanted him to…

But he had told her to take at least a few days, and they had made no specific plans as to when they would meet again. And Diana knew that he had just been trying to help her, that there was no romance involved, no future to the relationship. He had no idea of the upheaval he had caused in her life. She might not have been crazy about the person she had been but now she had no idea who she was.

That evening she was sitting at her desk, trying, with a complete lack of success, to focus on her homework, as she had been for the past hour. Suddenly she slapped the lid down on her laptop and stood up, startling her roommate, who was reading on her bed. “I need some air,” Diana said, and hurried out, forcing herself not to slam the door behind her.

Diana knew exactly where she was going, even though she had no idea what she was going to do when she got there. She hurried across the campus, her mouth set in a determined line. It wasn’t until she actually reached James’ dormitory that her footsteps slowed and she began to second-guess herself. It was a warm, humid night and she felt sweaty and even less attractive than usual. And of course before leaving she had given no thought to how she was dressed: an old black t-shirt with a bust of Beethoven on the front, an even older pair of raggedy denim cut-offs, and rubber flip-flops.

Not very enticing, she thought.

She didn’t care.

She marched through the entrance, took the elevator to the floor where James lived, entered his suite and, forcing herself not to think about what she was doing, knocked on his door. It wasn’t until he answered that Diana’s resolve deserted her.

James seemed mildly surprised to see her there, but certainly not unpleased. He smiled warmly at her and said, “Hi, Diana. How are you doing?”

Her mind, of course, went completely blank. Then she tried desperately to come up with an innocuous reason for her visit, but she knew “I was just passing by and thought I’d say hello,” wasn’t going to fly.

Fine. She’d come this far, and hesitating wasn’t going to make it any easier. She forced herself to meet his gaze, opened her mouth… Then closed it again and looked down. Raised her eyes and lowered them again several times in succession. Considered turning tail and running away.

No.

Finally, clenching her fists at her sides, she managed to say, “I…I w-want you to…teach me… I want you to sh-show me how to…d-do…d-do things for you.”

Once she had forced the words out Diana was terrified. Would he just laugh at her awkwardness and tell her to go home?

In some ways his initial reaction was worse; his expression as he looked at her was one of concern more than anything else. He looked past her, gazing thoughtfully into the distance for what seemed to Diana to be an agonizingly long time. Then he returned his attention to her, nodding slowly and saying quietly, “Yes, that would make sense, after…” He left the sentence unfinished, then went on, “I’m really slammed with homework right now though, so maybe in a couple of…”

He stopped as he saw the expression on Diana’s face. “Oh.” He nodded again, his expression sympathetic. “Yes, of course. Come in.”

He stood aside and Diana entered. She stood in the center of the small room, her hands clasping each other tightly at her waist, while he closed the door. He came around and stood facing her, then opened his arms and gathered her into a hug. Diana gratefully surrendered to his embrace again, resting her head on his shoulder and allowing her breathing to settle as she basked in his warmth. He held her like that for a long time.

Eventually he withdrew slightly, taking her by the shoulders and looking into her eyes, asking without words if she was ready.

Diana nodded, hoping that she was right.

Releasing her, James took the chair from his desk, turned it around and sat down, looking up at her. There was so little room between the desk and the bed that his knees were only about a foot from hers. He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his thighs and interlacing his fingers.

“Take off your clothes,” he said quietly.

What? Diana went into shock. Was he asking her to stand there right in front of him and just…strip naked while he watched? Actually, no, she realized. He was telling her to do so.

She blushed violently, tried to speak, “I… B-but…”

James just sat there looking up at her, saying nothing but raising his eyebrows slightly as if reminding her that this was what she had asked for. After a moment, when Diana had stuttered out a few more unintelligible syllables and then fallen silent, he said, “Start with your sandals, Diana.”

Well, that wasn’t so bad, even though Diana knew what would inevitably follow. She slid out of her flip-flops and nudged them aside with her foot. Then she stood there, nervously twisting her fingers together.

“Pull down your pants.”

Diana fumbled with the button on her shorts and managed to undo it, but her hands were shaking so much that she had trouble grasping the tab on her zipper.