A secret admirer

Dear Diary,

I have never been so bored in my entire life. The Monsoon is barely half over, and I've been stuck in my room studying endless strings of calculations concerning gravitational lensing. Its been quite a shock to go from the wild frivolity that Cordelia seems to bring with her to the buttoned down drabness of intellectuals. What's more, my flirtations and invitations have gone unaccepted. It was only yesterday that I was informed that most of the students here take a sedative, not unlike the ones we used on the Irish, to keep their minds on their studies and not on each other. Its illegal, but I've been told its the only way some of them would ever finish their assignments. If it weren't for my weekly visit to Mr Drake at the Grand Wellington Hotel, I would surely go mad. At this juncture, I'd even opt for a repeat of that most exhausting incident with Chauncey and the guards if only to break the monotony. What a little tart I've become!

Dear Diary,
Write. Write. Write. All I do is write equations and read the Classics. My poor Eliptirod has given up the ghost. I miss my sweet love Cordelia. To be in her arms again. Wayland has yet to visit, informing he that his research is at a critical juncture and that he simply cannot be distracted; noting that I could be expelled and him reprimanded now that I was a student and he a research assistant to Professor McGuinness, when in reality I'm certain that he is the one doing the important work and research.

To make matters worse, I've not heard from Cordelia. I am beginning to worry that she has forgotten me, and is busy enjoying herself with some American cowboy. I understand that all mail must go through the newly established embassy, but by now I truly did expect to get some letter full of saucy details. Perhaps embassy life is just as dull as academia.

Dear Diary,

It seems I have a secret admirer. I was darting under the balcony of the Sometics building when a Hindu message boy ran up to me, trying and failing to keep out of the wind and the rain. "Ms Hughes?" he said, ducking under the balcony to avoid being fully soaked. He produced a letter, and waited patiently. Confused, I opened it, and began to read as a crack of thunder resounded through the empty courtyard.

"To the Angel of my Dreams,

I've watched you move about the campus, your books held tightly to your chest as you walk. In truth, I am much too shy to simply approach you and make proper introduction. My heart of hearts prays that one day you'll catch my gaze, and our eyes will meet, and you'll grace me with your lovely smile. University life is difficult, to be sure, especially as no one truly believes it a place for a lady, but to see your lovely face so grim is unbearable.

Take this token as a gift from your secret admirer, and perhaps one day I'll work up the courage to give it to you myself. I'll be watching for your reply, though you will not from where.

-An Infatuated Admirer"

Once I closed the note, the Hindu boy stepped close to me, and slid his hands over my sides, pulling me close to him. His lips touched mine gently before he drew back, leaving me with my eyes closed and my cheeks flush. There, in the rain and the thunder, I drew the boy back to me, kissing him deeply as I encircled his neck with my arms. I looked around. There were dozens of windows surrounding the courtyard. My admirer might be looking down from any one of them.

His hands traveled up my body, wetting my dress as we kissed. He started kissing my neck and shoulders as he pulled my top down, freeing my breasts to be sprinkled with rain. I didn't care who else might have been watching, though I should probably be more discrete. His mouth found my hardened nipples as I pulled his shirt from his waistband, letting my hands roam his thin form before working his belt. A student walked out of a building, and was quite shocked to see the display I was putting on. He checked his timepiece, and grudgingly kept moving to his next class. I laughed as I freed the messenger's penis from its confines, stroking it to erection.

He gathered up the front of my skirt, and his own hand found my warmth. I gasped as his fingers slid into me as I pumped him. "Miss, class will be letting out any moment." he said, taking position between my legs. I pulled his hips closer, and stroked hard and fast. His hand speed matched my own as his fingers dipped into me. I could see faces in windows now, quietly watching.

"Curse my luck that you didn't arrive sooner." I said. "Still, inform your employer of this." I lifted my leg, and impaled myself upon him. "Tell him how warm and wet and inviting I am." I said, sliding myself up and down his length. "Tell him I am on the third floor, room 20, and that my door will be unlocked tonight."

The bell in the tower sounded, and I lifted myself off of him, barely able to replace my dress as students poured out into the courtyard. The poor messenger awkwardly stuffed his slick member back into his pants, and scurried off.

Needless to say, I am starting to like the college life; and discretion is not all that bad.