1st look…

andscatterthechaos:

this is my first ever 1st person POV story and its inspired and plotted heavily from my dream. it does contain real people that i know in real life, and names are changed of course. it also contains a famous guest star who i do not know unfortunately, and how they fit into the story is of course fictional.

(this story will be nsfw overall but chap 1 is fairly tame)

enjoy.

this gif pretty much encompasses how i feel about mister JDM.

image

Keep reading

part 2, gets a little heated….

(the older woman/younger man applies to this part only. after that its all JDM and me…i mean Samantha…)

All packed up, now just loading the
buses.

Breakfast had been another affair
rife with giggles and whispers of gossip and ‘who do you like?’

I strolled the halls, making sure
no one had obvious things left behind in the rooms, and before I knew it, I’d
circled back around to the common room, where Art was lounging, with five other
friends.

The girls were crowding the couch
on the opposite side of the room, and suddenly I had the urge to scream at
them.

‘You’re
wasting your time pretending you don’t care! It serves
no purpose! Tell them the truth!’

But I didn’t.

I didn’t do anything, but stare at
him and try to telepathically communicate how much I was going to miss him.

He caught me looking, because of
course how he hadn’t even felt my eyes on him all last night and up until now I
hadn’t a clue.

“Sam. Hey. You all right? You look
stressed.”

I could have cried.

Damn my readable face.

My only weakness.

I had taken about three months of a
drama program in middle school, to get in touch with my emotions and learn to
control them, my parent’s words, not mine, like I was some kind of Jedi
preparing to go Sith or something of that vein.

Instead, I had perfected the art of
lying, and usually never gave anything away. I had a readable poker face.

But sometimes, with certain
people…who held my heart strings in their hands but didn’t know, I was an open
book.

He was one of those.

I smiled, fake, and shrugged,

“Just not ready to say goodbye I
guess.”

He stuck his hands in his pockets,
and I tried not to follow the movement with my eyes, pervert much?

“Yeah but at least you’re never
gonna have to go to school again…except college. I’m stuck here another two and
a half years.”

He said it like it was a bad thing.

Never seeing him again was a duel
edged sword.

Sure, I’d never have to pretend I
didn’t care, I wouldn’t have to have lunch with him and fight the urge to hang
on his every word, but also…never seeing his smile, his eyes, his broad
shoulders, strong arms, perfect for hugs…

I was so pathetic.

Leering after a child. I dug my
nails into my fists and tried to pretend I didn’t care.

I laughed, and it felt like
scraping my throat raw.

“Yeah true. Won’t miss that. School
sucks.”  

It was my lame attempt at
pretending we had anything in common besides school. But he didn’t bite.

“Well, good luck with that,
adulting and all.”

He reached out, and I almost
flinched away in shock, but he was just putting a hand on my shoulder.

I could have cursed aloud.

What was that?

A pat?

‘You go girl?’

Hell to the no.

I trapped his hand under my own
before I could think logically, and jerked my head,

“C’mon I want to show you
something.”

He followed, because of course, he
was curious.

The copy room was mainly for adult
use, not chaperon’s or kids, and so as all the moms were running around like
chickens with their heads cut off, was empty.

He said something clever,

“Need to copy the yearbook so more
people can sign the back?”

I just shook my head.

“I need to tell you something…Art…”

He was looking at me, with an
inscrutable expression, and I felt a burning need to just abandon words.

Fuck words.

I pounced on him, arms wrapping
around his neck, pulling him as close as I dared, and I mashed my lips against
his.

Far from my first kiss, but it was
my first kiss with someone I cared about.

Had more than a simple easy
interest in.

I burned for him.

Inside and out.

Never mind the fact that he’d just
turned fourteen and my eighteenth birthday was five months away.

I felt him pulling away, and I
instantly stopped, breaking the kiss to pant,

“Sorry. I just couldn’t leave
without doing that…at least once.”

He looked almost dazed, at a loss
for words, and instead of waiting to be rejected, I did the worst thing I could
think of.

I fondled him.

Well…we were still standing pretty
close to each other anyway.

Thank god the door was closed, but
I couldn’t remember doing it…had he?

Anyway…my hand slid down the front
of his chest, and before I could think about why this was a bad idea, I was
cupping the front of his jeans, below and left to the zipper, I could feel
definite hardness.

I gulped, and the next thing I
heard wasn’t a scream for help, it was the most desperate gasp of a sigh from
his lips. It was so damn hot.

“Ohhhh…”

His eyes rolled back into his head and
were closed for a good five seconds before I realized what the hell I was
doing, and dropped my hand. He’d definitely been on the verge of grinding
against it though.

He snapped back to alert attention
at once, and I smiled sheepishly,

“Bye then.”

Never had there been a more chaste
hug, before he left first, striding the hall with a confident swagger I’d never
seen before.

I on the other hand could not stop
smiling, despite how outright immoral I’d been.

I followed at a slower pace,
detouring to the front of the building, to check up on luggage and the younger
kids.

Right.

I’ve got a job to do.

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