Becoming a Good Girl Ch. 01

"Hey there princess." he purred as she came near him. Both Haylee and Tania held their breath batedly. Sam stifled a pleased grin and barely nodded in acknowledgment. Owen gaped slight and began to backtrack, now following the girls back down the hall. "It's - uh- it's me. The idiot with the cheap skateboard?"

Sam smiled vaguely and nodded; "Yeah, the freshman with a death wish. I recall."

Owen gasped exaggeratedly and stopped in his tracks, allowing the girl's to advance. "I'm not a freshman, freshman. You should respect your elders."

Sam grinned and turned to look at him as she reached the door which left the building. "Yeah, and you shouldn't make promises you don't intend to keep."

The ruffled boy looked extremely put out, and as she pushed open the double glass doors to let her new-found friends out ahead of her; Sam was sure she saw him mouth "fuck me" to himself as he stalked away.

Xxxxx

Sam dropped herself into her new coverlet heavily, spreading out like a starfish. Her seeking hands found the edge of the bed and she grinned, rolled over and pushed her face into the creamy fabric. The shopping trip had been entirely successful and Sam was feeling more settled in than ever. Her phone buzzed and she scooped it up, replying to various messages from her mother. As she was about to send the last one, Devon's five flashed on her screen and the saxophone began to wind it's tune from the phone. Sam moaned out loud in dread and he whole body filled with reluctance. It had been almost a week since she had spoken to him in person and she had almost forgotten that she had yet to break up with him. "Hello?" she swiped the screen and answered bravely.

"Hey there care bear!"

Sam gulped and walked slowly over to her little kettle which was set up against the wall opposite from her bed, alongside the mini fridge and the sink. She clicked it in and pulled a mug from the white cupboard as he spoke. "How is it? Do you have you tazer with you? The more I think about you being in dorms with all those other men the less I like it! You know I actually made a call and they said that if you went in before orientation began they might be able to transfer you to an all-female dormitory!"

Sam didn't have to reply often and Devon didn't seem to notice, blathering on about the beurocracy of universities and the rules. Eventually though the inevitable question came. "Have you made any new friends?"

She thoughts about simply saying 'no' and avoiding having to speak but she rather enjoyed speaking about her new-found floor-mates. "Yes, actually I have. The two girls who live across from me in room 118 are actually real sweethearts. They went shopping with me for-"

"Any male friends, then?" Devon interrupted bluntly.

"... uhm... not really."

"Not really?! What in the heck does that mean? You haven't made friends? Or they aren't really 'friends'. Let me tell you, I read this article that spoke about infidelity in women and they said that 80% of women who go to college in a relationship are unfaithful, now I'm not pointing fingers but we both know what a loose canon you can be and-"

Sam's ears buzzed with rage as he spoke. 'Devon it's over' she rehearsed. 'Devon it's over. It's over now Devon.' she repeated it over and over in her head before she finally began out loud.

"Devon-" she said boldly, cutting him off as he rattled off statistics for women who contract STI's while at college.

"Devon it's-"

"Quite right Samantha. I must be going. It's late. I'll call tomorrow again." he quipped, and hung up the phone immediately. She growled out loud and clenched her phone tightly in her first to stop from throwing it across the room.

Xxxx‎

She stepped out of the shower, as tense as when she had stepped in and now feeling clammy. Her skin inched uncomfortably as though the water had seeped into her pores and was boiling her from inside. She wanted to scream in frustration at Devon... She was glistening pink and practically evaporating the water around her with the heat of her anger. Sam wrapped her dark grey towel around her torso and scooped up her toiletries. She walked briskly out of the cubical and towards the mirrors. She stared at herself for a good few minutes, just observing the anger so plainly etched into her pink, sweaty face. She gritted her teeth and took a steadying breath. "It could be so much worse. He could be a cheater, a player, a real-life actual mistake maker. Not just a totally oblivious, insensitive idiot." she ground out to her reflection, biting her words through her lips. She continued to stare for a few moments before she decided she had calmed sufficiently and pulled her damp hair away from her face into a high messy pony allowing the end to play across her shoulder. As she padded along the quiet corridor towards her room in bare feet, she worked through the conversation she needed to have with Devon when he called the next day. Her fingers ticked against her small silky white toiletries bag. "113..." she read unconsciously, coming closer to her room. A voice broke the relative silence of the corridor suddenly, making Sam flinch slightly in surprise.

"Hey... look... it's our own resident princess."

Sam looked down from the numbers on the doors to see Owen perched near the window, two doors away from her dorm room. She hoped that it was dim enough to disguise her blush at his comment and having been caught in her towel. Owen stood up from the window sill and strode over to where Sam had slowed her walk. "How are things shaking, princess?"

"Is there a chance you can not call me that?"

"Well ... I don't know your name. So that'd be a no-can-do."

Sam chuckled and shook her head, her long ponytail slipping off her shoulder to hang between her shoulder blades. She had no intention of introducing herself to cheap-skateboard-guy. She walked past him and waved vaguely in her departure.

"Hey!" he reached out and gently grabbed her elbow, pulling her persuasively around to face him. She clearly looked as shocked as she felt because he laughed. Sam was now a single door away from her room. Owen grinned at her winningly and she pressed her knees together as a gentle pull from her stomach made her thighs tingle. Was she *attracted* to him?! She was shocked at herself. She began to panic slightly.

"I'm Sam." she muttered, pulling her elbow from the warm palm that had conveniently forgotten to drop away.

"Owen." he said automatically, not allowing her to shake his grip and moving his hand up her arm and to her shoulder. Her skin woke up as his fingers grazed up her arm sensitively. His palm rested heavily there for a moment. "I'm Owen."

"Yeah, I've heard."

"Oh? From who?" he asked cockilly, tilting his head towards her.

"Well firstly you just said so... and from all the other girls who have tried to run you over." she snipped, pulling away from his hand deftly and walking backwards towards her room... "I have to go now. I really do."

"Invite me in, princess." he called playfully, his lips curling over his shiny teeth in a way that made him appear predatory.

"I told you not to call me that. And... I have a boyfriend." she whisper-shouted as she unlocked her door.

"I don't like your attitude Princess. I am punishing you."

"Well you aren't doing a very good job." she laughed, opening the door an inch and looking at him over her smooth shoulder.

"Invite me in, and I'll take you over my knee." he quipped. She raised an eyebrow and shook her head in distaste, struggling to suppress her chuckle of delight. Her pony tail whipped back and forth and she watched his eyes follow it. "Go away dude. It's too late for this."

She stepped inside and watched his face as she swung the door closed. He was grinning at her, his hand on the wall where it had been in her shoulder.

Xxxxx

She leaned against the door, grinning, and waited to see if she could hear his footsteps. She turned slowly and pressed her ear to the door. She was sure she heard breathing. She pulled away, shocked. Was he right outside her door?! Should she lock it? She stepped back hastily, tossing her silky white toiletries bag onto the big round table which served as her breakfast table. She kept her eyes on the white door for a moment and then took a steadying breath. What was he going to do, break in? She chuckled to herself and placed a thin hand on her heaving chest comfortingly. "Calm yourself girl. You are too paranoid. He's nowhere near your door." she said out loud.

Once she was dressed she found herself laying on her bed in the dark, thinking about how quickly her seething anger had melted into happiness at his carefree nature and his jokes. She replayed seeing him on that windowsill, the way he had his one leg propped against the glass so that his jeans pulled tightly over this thighs. She found herself thinking about what size his legs must be in comparison to hers to look such a way when bent. She pictured him standing beside her and imagined that her legs must be at least half the size of his. She wasn't badly built, and had spent most of her adolescent life on her bicycle or her skateboards... but he was built like a sportsman, something which she was not. She wondered if he was a swimmer or a cyclist, if he shaved his legs. She tried to remember if he had hair when she had knocked him over and he had been wearing shorts. She recalled his scuffed elbows and the thin hair that she had noticed all along his forearms.

Helplessly, her brain conjured a hand to reach out and touch those light hairs. She bit her lip and closed her eyes tightly, attempting not to imagine it. However, her lusty mind had other ideas. She imagined slipping a hand up his arm and feeling his bicep, the curve of his shoulder. Pushing his sleeve up and feeing his sharp collar bones. She breathed in sharply through her nose... She could almost feel his breath on her cheek as she touched him. The place where is hand had grazed up her arm burned warmly and she found herself stroking it, replaying the action and the way that his eyes followed the fingers, followed the trail of warm gooseflesh that his fingertips had delivered to her skin. A lone finger trailed down her arm and met her other fingers... She remembered hauling him to his feet from the asphalt, felt his strong hand wrap around her small fingers and watched his arm tense as he braced his weight against her strength. God, why was strength so attractive?!

An image of him lifting her from behind her knees, folding her against his abdomen while she clung to him entered her mind. She imagined him holding her weight up, her legs bent over his arms, as he drove himself roughly into her wetness. ‎She snapped her eyes open, looking down at herself to find that the hand which had laced finger with its partner had since ventured down and was poised inside the inner waistband of her underwear. She pulled her hand away and gulped, staring at it as though it was a criminal. "You wanted to do *that* about him? No, no, we just met him!" she spoke to the hand as she shoved herself up and placed herself against her pillows. Her doughy thighs pressed themselves together and she had a gentle stirring in her belly. She looked down at that hand skeptically. "What the hell." she ground out between her teeth and scooted down her pillows. She yanked her underwear down to her ankles and bent her legs. She placed her left hand on her breasts, over the fabric, and sucked gently on the forefinger of her right hand. She closed her eyes and imaged him again. He was above her in her bed, his hands on her slim waist. He was looking down at her with that cocky grin.

Her finger slid between her slit and found her soft, damp clit.

She imagined his chest, covered in soft hair. She wondered if he had any tattoos... immediately, without her conscious permission she imagined riding him, splaying her fingers in that muscular chest and pulling gently at that hair. She imagined his face when he found out how fierce she was, how hungry...

A single finger pressed against her entrance and pulled away slick moisture, she played it over her clit and bit her lip harder.

She imagined his hands on her hips, forcing her down onto his lap hard, she imagined his pretty hair and his grin... and his dark playful voice mocking her lovingly. "Is that was you want, princess?" she imagined him say.

Her finger moved faster.

She imagined him pulling at her hair and she heard her voice begging him to cum.

She slipped the first segment of her index finger gently inside herself and then out again, going back to rubbing her clit. She began to wriggle on the bed as she pictured it. It was at that moment that she remembered what Tania had said.

She pictured him fucking her from behind with a fistful of her dark hair pulling her head back, his free hand on her ass, teasing her hole. She whimpered in her fantasy and softly in real life 'fuck me daddy' and came in both realities with such intensity that her legs shook and her back arched. She covered her mouth with her left hand and didn't stop touching herself. "Oh god! Daddy!" she whimpered between her fingers, rocking her hips and panting as she rode her orgasm hard. Her eyes fluttered and she thoughts she might scream, her whimpering grew louder and louder... until eventually it waned and she was left panting and shivering.

Owen was lucky that it was so late and the corridor was deserted or he would have been forced to leave Sam's door mid-orgasm... he had his ear pressed to the wood gently and his one hand over his cock, through his pants. He imagined he might faint from the size of his erection and the lack of blood flowing to his brain. This girl had to be a gift from the gods. Could anyone more perfect exist? He removed his hand and promised himself he wouldn't cum until she was directly the one responsible. He was going to have her.

Xxxx

It would be two more days before she saw him again, and she had never been more thankful. As very often happens, once Sam had cum she felt wholly ashamed for having done so. She set to work amending her violent onslaught of arousal for Owen by ignoring that he existed at all; which as it turned out was not a challenge if she stayed on her floor and within the boundaries of Tania and Haylee's small pot-addled world. She spent Thursday and Friday eating brownies and writing out class schedules in Haylee's pink glitter gel pens. However she could not escape from her own mind, and her fantasies about strong, cheeky Owen recurred every time her mind was idle. She saw him fuck her in the showers, she blew him in her own bed and every windowsill she passed held his image, grinning and asking her if she would invite him in. Beyond that, It was a rather enjoyable time and allowed for a reprieve as neither of her friends asked too many questions. It was Saturday afternoon when she was forced to acknowledge his existence again, much to her secret delight. All three women were spread out on a large blanket on the lawns in front of the dormitory. Haylee was asleep while Tania lay on her belly smoking a skinny cigarette and Sam pulled apart a bunch of red grapes above her book. The sun was warm enough to be uncomfortable and they had set up camp under the coverage of a generous tree. Owen's intrusion was a lot less blunt this time around and when he called to her, she looked up smiling. "Hi again princess, what are you reading?"

Sam looked up and her sunglasses slipped down her nose, she flipped them up to the top of her head and gazed over to the direction of his voice. Tania practically sneered at him as Owen began to walk from the tarmac where he had been standing, across the grass.

Sam scooted up from her belly to her knees and lifted her hand to her forehead to minimise the glare. "Hey there stranger." she greeted, moving over and patting the spot where she had been laying a few seconds previous. She picked up her book and showed him the cover. He didn't recognise it at all and simply nodded. He then looked over at Tania sneering and sat down anyway. The dark skinned beauty rolled over and ignored the two of them. Sam flipped her sunglasses back on and offered Owen a grape. "Stalking me are you?" she drawled, leaning back in one arm and crossing her legs as he pulled a deep red fruit from the stem and she placed them back in their bowl.

"We live in the same building princess, it's almost a challenge NOT to follow you."

Sam wanted to grin widely but sacked in her bottom lip and bit it hard to stop herself. She nodded slowly without responding, attempting firstly not to think about how close he was to her.

"What brings you out today?" she asked after a moment.

Owen looked back to where he had been standing before he relocated and Sam noticed that a bit of a group had gathered. "I was actually headed out to a party, to be honest. But we just heard that we got the times wrong. So I have a few hours to kill."

"Oh yeah? Whose party?"

"Collin Claire's. You know him?"

Sam blushed. "To be honest everyone I know is on this picnic blanket right now."

Owen laughed and shook his head. "That can't be true! You don't have any high school friends who followed you here?"

"I don't have any high still friends - period." Sam giggled, lifting her hand to cover her mouth as she laughed. When she lowered it, it landed on top of Owen's; their fingers overlapping lightly. He looked down at them and she quickly snatched her hand away, averting her eyes as a flash of her fantasies leapt through her mind.

"I - uh- yeah no. No friends from high school." she blathered, blushing deeply. Owen was shocked that the girl who came calling 'daddy' blushed when she touched his hand. He was suddenly slightly concerned about the state of her chastity. She continued to talk but Owen stared at her, tuning out her voice and observing her as though there might be a way to tell if she was a virgin or not. He glanced at her outfit. A thin white tank top, a size too big, with a hefty black patterned push up bra... his eyes darted down to her hips, looking for signs that her underwear matched. Her jean shorts were snug but in a way that showed that she tried all her clothes on before she bought them. And she was barefoot. Something about seeing her slender pale feet bare made Owen wish the rest of her was. Could she be a virgin? Owen didn't like to date virgins, he felt like his kind of expectations were too hefty for someone inexperienced. Or at least for someone who doesn't know what they like yet.

He was suddenly aware that she had stopped talking and looked up to her face. She was blushing again, pulling strands of her dark hair behind her ears and not looking at him. He gulped down his arousal and had to fist his hands to stop from touching her. "Well, you know what, you should come with us." he blurted out.

"Come to the party with you?" she breathed, clearly taken aback.

"Yeah of course. He said to bring as many people as we wanted. It's a house party. It's free booze and there's a pool... your friends can come too." he added quickly, seeing Tania roll over to look at them out of the corner of his eye.

Sam spun around and grinned at Tania. "Yes! We'd love to go-"

"No- no-" Tania started, but Sam jumped up and started to practically bounce on the spot.

"Okay then, it's settled. Would you like me to take you guys?"

Sam immediately shook her head. "Give me the address."

Owen nodded and stuck out his hand for her phone. She picked up her cell from next to her book. He entered his number at the speed of light and called himself. His phone rang in his pocket and he handed her own phone back to her, answering his. "Hello princess, the address is 19 queens lane, silvermore estate."

Sam laughed and nodded, hanging up the call.