The Journey… Chapter Four – The descent begins

I must say, I really kind of flourished in my first few months at Uni. Meeting so many new people, and being in a completely different place without any safety net – it just caused my personality to force itself to the surface, I came right out of my shell, and the sweet yet outgoing and flirty girl that I am today made her first real venture out into the world. I also took a much bigger interest in clothes and fashion, and how I looked and my appearance in general, which isn’t hard to do when you move to a much bigger city and find so many more options and styles available to you. So I was in the process of a transition from pretty but plain, to gorgeous little sex kitten.

My God, I think I became popular – no, it couldn’t be, surely!! Lol

But I really must have been popular in my group, because after striking up a friendship with one of the “mature students” in our class – he was well into his fifties, was semi-retired and just generally taking a part-time Uni course to keep his mind busy and follow his passions – I managed to get him accepted into our circle of 18-21 year old friends, purely based on my say so.

I liked him personally, he had such knowledge of the world, and was so interesting, so easy to talk to, and he was pretty much the only person I found at Uni who I could sit down for an hour or two with and just discuss books and random bits of literature with, he was a good intellectual foil for me. We met in one of my classes, he was treated like a bit of an outsider by everybody, despite his best efforts to be nice and join in the group conversations and discussions. But a few weeks in, we were given a little project to do in pairs, and I felt a little sorry for him as he sat there and kind of waited for everyone else to pair off to see who he was left with. So I strutted over to him (I say strutted because my new found popular “gorgeous little sex kitten” persona had somehow lead to me developing a bit of a “sex-kitten strut” – or it could have been that I’d started to wear heels on a regular basis for the first time ever and was struggling to walk properly! lol), with my long blonde hair flowing, my big eyes twinkling, and with my cute little smile, and asked if he wanted to team up with me.

So we did, and after class we went to the main Uni building, had coffee, and chatted about the project and our ideas, which lead to chatting about loads of other stuff, and we ended up enthralled in each others words for about 3 or 4 hours. That night I went back to my student accommodation room, and I masturbated myself into such an intense orgasm. It wasn’t even sexual really, I was only thinking about him talking to me, there was no sex involved in my fantasy, I just found his intelligence and interestingness (is that even a word? lol) the biggest turn on ever. My school-girl crush had began for this older married class-mate of mine. And two days later it was my nineteenth birthday, and I was stunned to find a huge bunch of flowers arrive from him, with the simple message “I really enjoyed chatting with you. Have a wonderful birthday!”. He wasn’t helping me fan the flames of my crush at all!

My mind set became quite similar to the crush I had two years earlier, and I desperately wanted him just to notice me. I wasn’t expecting it to go anywhere, and part of me didn’t even want it to go anywhere, just like when I was 17, I just wanted him to reciprocate my crush in some form or another.

But my submissiveness really did start to take over this time, as time went by, even though at this point I can’t say I really knew what “submissive” meant, nor did I know that I could possibly be one. My relationship with Tom (not his real-name, but it’s better than calling him the older married guy from Uni for the rest of this story!!) was just the normal friends relationship for quite a while, albeit a little bit flirty when we were away from other people’s company, and it was certainly the slowest developing relationship I’ve ever had – like I said, I don’t think either of us had any real desire to take this anywhere.

He became quite a fixture within our friendship group – not into the clubbing and bar-hopping part of it, but whilst at Uni and for drinks or coffee, or lunch after classes, he was readily accepted into the group as a friend and perhaps a bit of a father figure. He didn’t throw cold water on our shenanigans, he was a nice guy, and everyone liked him and didn’t shy away from any kind of conversation just because he was there – sex, girls, guys, we made him endure it all, and he chipped in when he could.

It was approaching Christmas-time when during one such group conversation about girls, how girls dress, and in particular high heels, Tom stated that he particularly enjoyed seeing girls in high heels and he was amazed at just how high the heels had become on the young girls of today. The next day when getting dressed for Uni I subconsciously pulled out my sexiest and highest heels to put on, which were only four inches high back then, and then thought to myself “why am I wearing these?” as they were purely going out shoes and not really Uni day-wear. I then remembered what Tom had said the day before, smiled to myself, and put them on anyway, and at Uni that day I made the effort to make sure he noticed them.

I carried on wearing heels every day that I knew I would be seeing Tom, even using it as an excuse to do a bit of shoe shopping here and there, and I think he appreciated it and realised I was trying to impress him a little. And shortly after that he started throwing in other “suggestions” about things he liked to see, sometimes in group situations and sometimes in general private conversations, but never implied to be anything more than a passing comment. It was a bit of a running “joke” between us that was never spoken about. He’d say something, the next day I’d do it, we’d share a little smile, but it never went further and was never directly discussed. Anything from wearing red nail varnish, to wearing red lipstick, to wearing my hair down instead of up, or if he was being more bold when there was just the two of us he might make a comment about the short skirt or the low cut top that another girl was wearing, and just give me a cheeky smile, and the next time we’d meet I’d be wearing a skirt just as short or a top with just as much cleavage on display. It was all quite low key really, but for me it laid the foundations of my submissiveness for the future.

I think we were both really enjoying the general fun and flirty, and weirdly D/s, relationship we’d generated, but I don’t think either of us really planned to step it up a notch or anything, there were a lot of factors that stood in our way – the age-gap, his marriage, sometimes I was in relationships as I did date through my first year at Uni, even if none of them were particularly serious, it was a pretty “off” year for me in that respect.

But needless to say, slowly but surely it did develop. There was no leeway whatsoever in how it had been going along, so a change had to come along at some point. And it came one day when he was driving me back to my Uni flat after class, I got out of the car and was about to walk away when he called my name. I looked in through his open window, and he said to me, “don’t wear a bra tomorrow”, smiled, and drove away without giving me the chance to respond. It was a fairly significant change to the dynamic of our relationship – never before had he given me a specific and direct instruction, they’d all previously been thinly guised as passing comments and nothing was directly said between the two of us that anything was happening between us.

So the next day came, and off to Uni I went, in a pretty strappy top with decent cleavage on view, and no bra underneath. I was a little worried that it was too obvious that I wasn’t wearing a bra, I had tried to find a happy medium, I didn’t want it to be too obvious to everybody, I wanted it to be a little more subtle, but I did want Tom to be able to notice without too much effort. I don’t think I found that happy medium though – everybody’s eyes just gravitated to my chest as I walked by. I found out something else about myself that day as well though… I actually loved the attention, I really did! As all the eyes lingered on me, my heart started beating faster and harder, and I was shocked to notice that my nipples stiffened almost instantaneously. My inner-slut came out to play, and it was a strange, strange feeling.

I didn’t speak to Tom when I got to Uni, the first time I saw him was at the start of class, and we were sitting about 7 or 8 seats apart – the seating was in a general semi-circle so we were slightly facing each other and only maybe 4-5 metres away from one another. My phone then vibrated, I opened up the unread message from Tom, and it read, “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were enjoying the attention, you naughty girl!”. I replied with “do I have your attention?”, and he responded “oh, something’s definitely at attention!”, and finally I texted back “Then I definitely AM enjoying the attention!”

This was another first for us, we’d never sent each other text’s of a naughty variety before. This was definitely a new chapter in our relationship, and I was definitely excited about what the future may hold now we’d turned this corner and were both fully aware of, and acknowledging, that there was something between us… even if it had taken 6 months since meeting to get here.

To be continued…