The library tended to be quiet on weekday evenings. It gave me the opportunity to daydream and fantasize without fear of interruption. You were there again, that night. Sitting in your corner, studying quietly. No matter how friendly I was, how attentive and eager I was for you to notice me, you were distant. Not cold or rude – just.. distracted.
I felt like I had tried every subtle way to get you to notice me the past few months – a little mascara and blush; better fitting clothes, heels so my legs looked longer and leaner. You were exactly my type – although it seemed I wasn't yours. You would be consumed by the books and your notes and the thoughts in your head, and not notice the shy girl behind the counter.
You had no idea of the dirty things I daydreamed about as I watched you. You couldn't possibly know how I straddled my vibrator before I went to sleep, grinding to orgasm, wishing it was your cock. Wishing that you would kiss me with the dedication and passion you showed your studies.