My ex’s hottest law school classmate… PART 2 [MF]

*Thanks so much for reading! Part 1 here: https://www.reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/zqz9w0/my_exs_hottest_law_school_classmate_mf/*

*This installment is a little bit of a slow burn… but I’m almost done with Part 3, which (at least IRL) was a worthy payoff. So, stay tuned…*

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The morning after the law school formal event, I left on a short business trip to interview for an out-of-state job. The day I got back, my girlfriend Liz had already departed for a weeklong law clinic trip, providing legal services in an impoverished part of the state for class credit. So her friend and classmate Margaret happened to be dog-sitting for us.

Early in the afternoon, my phone buzzed.

M: Hey!! Liz said you’re back

M: Happy to keep watching the pup, but feel free to swing by anytime if you wanna get her

I texted her back that I’d be right over. She didn’t respond, but she’d said “anytime”… so I grabbed my keys and walked over, through the parking lot, past the pool, to Margaret’s end of the complex.

Knocking on the door, both my dog and Margaret’s started to bark, and I thought I vaguely heard music. Then it abruptly turned off, and the door opened just a crack.

Margaret stuck her face cautiously into the opening, smiling broadly and opening the door wide once she saw who it was.

“Oh hey, Scott—you saw my text,” she said. “Come on in!”

It seemed like I’d half-surprised her.

“Yeah, sorry—I texted you back, but maybe it didn’t go through?”

The dogs both greeted me as I stepped in the door, so I was distracted for a second. But then I looked up at Margaret, who was checking her phone where it was plugged in on a table… and I realized her hair was wet, and she was wearing nothing but a white towel. Which explained why she’d been weird answering the door.

“Yep, there it is!” said Margaret, holding up her phone and turning it around to show me my own unread message. “Texted you just as I got back from a run, so I hopped in the shower without checking my phone. Sorry to be randomly naked.”

She laughed, totally confident—since I was dating her friend—that it wouldn’t be weird that she answered the door in nothing but a towel. Maybe I was reading too much into the “hippie” impression I had of her, but she seemed like somebody who would be very comfortable with casual nudity. Or maybe she was intentionally teasing me.

I laughed with her, and then turned around to grab the dog’s leash and toys and other things. Whatever her intentions were, all I could think about was the fact that Margaret was just… right there, completely naked under that towel.

“Hang on, you need your dog bowls!” she said, turning to go into the kitchen and adjusting her towel. As she did so, between the adjustment and her movement as she started to turn away, the towel flicked up very slightly and I was treated to a fleeting (if partial) glimpse of Margaret’s perfect pussy mound—a quick flash of blonde pubes, the faintest hint of lips beneath.

*Was that an accident?? Had she flashed me on purpose?*

Either way, it was like a prayer had been offered and immediately answered.

I felt a little guilty about how excited I was getting, since I had a girlfriend, but told myself I’d never actually cheat. Besides, it couldn’t hurt just to look, if she was OK with it and totally comfortable around me—which, clearly, she was.

When Margaret came back with my dog’s bowls in hand, I drank in her bare, sexy shoulders, the swell of her breasts where the towel covered them.
And when I looked up, worried I might’ve been too obvious in staring at her, I seemed to catch Margaret subtly checking out my crotch.

It was just a split second—and then she was opening the door and saying a cheerful goodbye.

But as I walked back across the parking lot, I looked down and saw that, yes, the outline of my mostly-hard cock was indeed faintly visible through my gray sweatpants. Not obviously or egregiously—but it sure seemed like Margaret had noticed. Which made me rock hard and provided for an intense masturbation session as soon as I got back home.

Later that same afternoon, Liz called me—and everything fell apart. All of the issues and resentments and incompatibilities that had been magnified by moving in together were just too much. We wound up breaking up over the phone, since her retreat would last another four days, but agreed that we’d keep things civil when she got back—and that I would stay in the apartment but sleep on the couch until I managed to find a new place (ugh).

That night, I got good and drunk, upset about the breakup. Feeling like streaming a movie, I opened Liz’s iPad—she’d left it behind and brought her laptop instead—and spotted a bunch of message notifications from someone she was clearly cheating with, at the retreat she was currently on.

This story is true… but it’s not about the breakup. So I’ll spare you the betrayal/pain/etc. I went through that night and instead get to the fun stuff:

*Revenge.*

The next morning, I went down to the pool to relax for a couple of hours… secretly hoping I might run into Margaret in a bathing suit.

Alas, no luck.

But that afternoon, walking the dog, I was almost back to my unit when somebody called to me in the parking lot.

“Hey, Scott!”

I turned around to see Margaret and her dog coming toward me, having just finished a run. She was wearing the same revealing running gear I’d seen her in before. Her nipples always seemed to be hard after exercise.

My heart skipped a beat and my cock began to swell. That brief glimpse of pubic hair from beneath her towel flashed across my brain.

“Hey, Margaret,” I said. Before I could share the news about Liz and me, I caught a concerned and pitying look on Margaret’s face and realized she wasn’t stopping to chat a few feet away. She was coming in for a hug.

“Liz texted me that you guys broke up!” she said, holding me tightly, her breasts squeezed against my chest. “I’m so sorry. How are you holding up? Do you want to talk about it?”

I shrugged, feeling the anger start to return.

“I mean, it’s fine,” I said. “Turns out she was cheating on me.”

Margaret gasped, breaking off the hug and grabbing me by both arms in shock.

“Oh my God, what??” she exclaimed. “She told me you guys were just fighting a lot! That’s so terrible—here, come with me. Tell me everything.”

I started to talk, spilling it all as she steered me back toward her apartment with the dogs. Every once in awhile, she’d interject with an “oh my God!” or a “she lied to me, too, that fucking bitch!”

“Have you confronted her yet?” Margaret asked at one point, her eyes flashing. “I wonder if she’ll fess up or deny it. Please tell me you’re gonna get back at her.”

“I… I don’t know,” I said. “I haven’t decided how to deal with it yet. But I guess there’s part of me that does want to get back at her. Somehow.”

“Well, keep me posted,” she said. “I can’t stand cheaters. Happy to help.”

I had no idea quite what to make of that, but she didn’t give me time to react.

Fumbling with her keys, Margaret opened the door and let her dog inside and flicked on the light, then turned back to me.

“Sorry—I didn’t mean to kidnap you,” she laughed, beckoning me in. “I just have a study group later. So I couldn’t, like, hang out and talk in the parking lot.”

“Right, of course.”

“Anyway, I’m so fucking disappointed in her! Keep talking while I get ready—I’m listening even if I’m in the other room.”

She spent a few minutes flitting around refilling her dog’s water bowl, hanging up the leash, getting down an open bottle of wine and a couple of glasses. I kept talking, working through the breakup in real-time, as she poured us each a hefty amount of wine and came to sit beside me on the couch.

“Good riddance!” she said. “To an ex-girlfriend and ex-friend!”

We clinked our wine glasses and each took a drink. Then Margaret stood up again.

“Gimme a quick second to grab a shower, and then we can finish the wine while I throw some things in my bag?”

“Of course,” I said.

She went into her bedroom and shut the door, so I sipped my wine and kept half an eye on the dogs while playing with my phone.

I heard Margaret turn the shower on and felt myself getting hard again at the thought of her stripping off those sexy running clothes.

*What if I just… I got up and went in there? Open the door, catch her naked, ravage one another’s bodies?*

*Maybe that’s what she wanted me to do. Maybe this was an invitation?*

Alas, before this fantasizing could play out any further, I heard the shower turn off. So I imagined her stepping out to towel herself off, water droplets running down her body…

My cock was rock hard in my sweatpants. Fortunately, it would take Margaret a few minutes to get dressed, so I’d have time to think about baseball (or whatever) to make it go away until I could get home and take care of it.

To my surprise, though, the bedroom door burst open and Margaret came walking out in nothing but a towel, just like the day before—her hair wet, her body still glistening from the shower. My cock throbbed at the sight of her soft skin, her ample cleavage, her sexy legs, the thigh gap right where the towel came down, tantalizingly close to the curve of her ass.

“Sorry, don’t mind me—gotta grab some undies out of the dryer,” she said. “And in the meantime, you were telling me you wish you’d seen this coming because of how incompatible you were? If you don’t mind me running around, keep talking while I get ready.”

I could swear she snuck a quick glance at the bulge in my pants.

“Sure, yeah,” I said, taking another sip of wine and watching her disappear into the other room, presumably to root around in the dryer.

“You were saying it wasn’t just the fighting,” she said, at a bit of a shout, from somewhere behind the open door.

“Yeah, I mean, we also had some sexual issues,” I said, then realized with horror what this might imply. “I-I mean not *issues*, just incompatibility.”

Margaret laughed and came back into the room holding what looked like a lacy black bra and thong.

I tried to maintain eye contact.

“When you say ‘compatibility’—do you just mean, like, being into different things? Like she’s not into butt stuff, you’re not into leather?”

I laughed.

“No, not really,” I said, trying to figure out how to put it delicately. “We were always into the same stuff…”

“Right, I mean, she was kinda braggy about it,” Margaret replied, disappearing back into her bedroom… but leaving the door open this time.

“Wait—Liz told you about our sex life??” I called after Margaret.

“No, not really,” she said, coming back into the room still wrapped in her towel.

She sat on the couch next to me for a moment and picked up her wine, taking a long drink.

“What do you mean?”

“We never, like, swapped stories or anything. She just bragged about it.”

“About… our sex life?”

“Sorta,” Margaret shrugged. “But mostly about… you know. IT, it.”

At this, she glanced directly at my crotch bulge, raising an eyebrow for humorous effect.

“Seriously?”

“Yep,” said Margaret, setting down her glass, getting up again, and heading back into her room to resume getting ready.

“She bragged about… my dick?”

“Sure did,” called Margaret from her room. “Said it was almost as thick as her wrist.”

I guffawed. “Well, that’s rich.”

“What do you mean?”

“She loved it at first, but complained about it nonstop ever since.”

At this, Margaret popped into her doorway. She was still wearing the towel, but she now had earrings on and was holding a makeup brush in one hand.

“Wait—are you fuckin serious? She complained about *what*, exactly??”

I shrugged.

“That it hurt her cervix. Made her so sore we almost never had sex,” I said—a little worried this was too much information, but titillated enough to go there anyway.

Margaret’s expression was difficult to read, but her mouth was slightly open and her blue eyes held mine… before drifting very obviously, once again, to my raging hard-on.

She smirked and looked back up, resuming eye contact.

“I mean I guess it’s like, half the size of her *entire body*. Which would hurt,” she smirked, then turned back around and went into her room. “And it’s true that bigger is not always better! Come stand in the doorway so I can finish my makeup.”

“Oh, come on—it’s basically average,” I said, a little red in the face, getting up and grasping my glass of wine. It took me a second to arrange my throbbing cock in my pants.

“Sure, but Liz is so tiny—and it’s the *girth* that gets you,” Margaret said. “*Trust* me.”

I couldn’t remember ever being so horny, as I reveled in talking about sex with my ex’s gorgeous friend.

Standing in the doorway of her bedroom, I could see past the nicely-made bed through her bathroom door, where a light was on and her face was reflected in the mirror over the sink as she did her makeup.

“Well, I appreciate that you’re not making me feel like a freak who can never have a healthy sex life,” I said.

She laughed, finishing up what she was doing and then ducking away from the mirror.

“I’m being serious! You just… need to find a woman who appreciates you,” she said.

Then, reappearing in the mirror but facing away from me—did she not realize I could see her??—Margaret dropped her towel.

I had to stifle a gasp. She was putting her hair up, arms over her head, with her naked back and supple ass reflected in the mirror.

Then she turned slightly, revealing first a swell of sideboob, then both of her glorious breasts, pink nipples erect, and finally rotating her wide hips so that she was fully facing the mirror again.

I drank in the sight of her—the alluring “V” of her hips and mound of Venus, with just a tuft of the blonde public hair I’d already glimpsed. Her sexy stomach and flawless tits, just a hint of goosebumps on her areolas, the erect nipples I’d been fantasizing about under her workout clothes.

Her gorgeous face, those voluptuous, slightly parted lips—and the fierce blue eyes that, I suddenly realized, were staring right back at me in the mirror.

I must’ve looked startled, because Margaret nearly doubled over in laughter.

For a second, she turned away and I saw the bathroom light flick off. Then she reappeared standing in the doorway, looking in my direction across her bedroom.

“You don’t seem to be getting it, so let me say that again a little slower: You just need to find a *woman*… who… *appreciates*… you.”

Her eyes smoldered with desire as she stood before me, completely naked. My erection swelled.

I reached back and shut Margaret’s bedroom door behind me. So the dogs wouldn’t interrupt or distract from what was about to happen.

– –

*Thanks again for reading! Reactions/comments/DMs always appreciated and motivate me to write faster — but Part 3 coming soon, regardless!*

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/zsvapq/my_exs_hottest_law_school_classmate_part_2_mf