*I’ve never written erotica before, so I’m open to suggestions; this isn’t a true story, per se, but there are elements of truth in it. I’m really curious to know what you think of it, even if what you think about it isn’t very complimentary. Incidentally, I’m a guy; I just think the point of view of the woman in this story is more interesting to write from, and I hope I did that well.*
I’d noticed him from the moment he came into the class, really. I didn’t want to notice him, I wasn’t looking to notice anybody, but there it was.
I was a freshman. Still living at home, because I couldn’t afford the dorms, driving into school every day, parking, fighting traffic, just to get this mystical degree that would change my life. My mom was pushing for it, of course; I was a first generation Cuban girl, of course she wanted me to get the education she hadn’t gotten. She didn’t know what that entailed, really; there was no money for tuition, no understanding that it was going to be hard to work full-time and to go to school full-time. But I was a good daughter, and I wanted to make her proud of me. I wasn’t going to school to meet people or to be distracted. I was there to learn.