I was in the parking lot, in Tyler’s Mercedes, when I saw her for the first time. He parked in the back row, I was between classes and Tyler was blowing his off to stick his dick in me. He was in the driver’s seat and I was on his lap. I’m short, just 5’5” so I can straddle a boy in the front seat of a car and rock his world, even when he’s driving. But like I was saying, I was getting some vitamin D, Tyler was breathing into my neck and holding onto my hips while I milked his cock and I was looking out the back window, when I saw her walking toward the arts building.
I don’t know why I paid attention to her. I mean, there wasn’t really anything remarkable about her. She was cute in a teacher kind of way. She was older than me, maybe ten years, she looked like she took pretty good care of herself. I don’t really know why she caught my eye though. She had a confident walk, like she was still proud of her tits and her ass, which she had every right to be. Maybe that was it - she was confident, like me.
Of course, I didn’t even know who she was then. I guessed a teacher because of the outfit, but that didn’t mean much at a school as large as mine, she could have been an older student who dressed like a teacher, or maybe she was one of those women that works in admin or as a teacher’s aide. But she had piqued my curiosity and I made up my mind right there that I was going to find out who she was.
“Oh, I’m gonna cum!” Tyler’s fingers dug into my flesh.
I had completely forgotten about him steadily pumping his adequate dick in and out of me. His face that sad, almost pained look, and I could feel his cock twitching deep inside me. I sat back and ground my hips into him, squeezing him tight. “Do it, baby.” I leaned forward and licked his lips. “Give it to me.”
Tyler was one of five. What can I say, I like some dick in my life. He was a junior studying economics and wealthy, which made up for the fact that he was only alright in bed. Like most guys with too much money, he was raised on porn which makes him think he knows what a girl like me wants, when in reality, he has no idea what he’s doing. Thankfully, he also liked to impress me with his daddy’s money and he had a pretty long cock, I mean a solid eight inches, and I liked it when he went deep.
So, yeah, that was the first time I saw her. She was walking into the admin building and I was fucking one of my five. But I already knew what was coming. I knew it like I knew I knew the sun was going to rise the next day. My world and Olivia Jacobson’s world were going to collide. I was going to see to it.
So, it was pretty simple. I mean, it was the first time I had done it myself, but it was easier than I thought it would be. I decided to do it a few days after the first time saw her. I cut through the Arts building on my way to volleyball and she was standing outside of a classroom on the phone. She saw me walking toward her, we made eye contact, and she smiled at me.
I was so nervous. I mean, it’s a big deal, marking someone as your own. It’s like picking a mate or getting a puppy, everyone always said there was a lot of responsibility that goes along with it. And so, yeah, I was super nervous.
But I had never experienced anything like what I was feeling. She was all I had thought about for three days. Seriously, I had done everything I could to forget about her, but I couldn’t. It was like every time I closed my eyes, I saw her and I wanted her, and I wanted her to be mine. I couldn’t stop thinking about her.
I went to volleyball practice and kept wondering what she was doing. I fucked number four, and while I was buried between his thighs, sucking his cock while he licked and devoured my cunt, all I could imagine was Olivia between my legs. I sat in class and wondered how she would smell. It was insane, I couldn’t get the woman out of my head.
And normally, it would have been an easy thing to get over. I mean, I had lost boyfriends and girlfriends before. I had had crushes that didn’t work out or that I had to fix, but nothing was like this. I was obsessed.
I even tried to talk myself out of marking her. I mean, it didn’t take rocket scientist to know that none of it was really possible. I mean, I was a student, she was teacher, and she was so much older than me. I mean, I didn’t normally go after older women. She was probably straight and I was whatever I was. But in the end, none of that mattered, I had to mark her. I had to make her mine. It was the weirdest thing that ever happened to me, the overwhelming desire to mark someone else. It didn’t make sense, but then there’s a lot about being me that doesn’t make a whole lot of sense. But we’ll get to me later on.
So, I made a plan, well an outline, I had an idea of how to do it. It was tricky cause I didn’t want her to know. I mean, she could have known, I had heard about people volunteering to be marked, but I had no idea how I was supposed to broach the subject with a total stranger. So, I went for top secret route.
She had no idea when it happened. It’s not a complicated thing. I mean, if this was a movie, there would have been some special effects, I would have probably had to wear some kind of hooded-robe, and maybe a candle, and there could have been an altar. But in reality it was nothing.
Like I said she was standing in the hall on the telephone, a student clumsily tried to slip by her but the folder he was carrying fell and dumped his papers all over the floor around her feet. I was passing at the same time and stopped to help.
Olivia was still on the phone, looking back and forth between us while we tried to get the papers off the floor around her feet. And she reached down and picked up a piece of paper at the same time I did. Our hands touched. And I muttered the words under my breath, barely loud enough for anyone to hear. And that was it. There were no strange lights, no clouds of magic smoke, nothing.
That was where it started, the first real step toward where we are now. One moment, two seconds of physical contact, and a few words no one could understand except me. And then I walked away, fast, like I was on fire.
My stomach was a tangle of knots. I couldn’t believe I had done it. I had marked someone, a woman, a teacher, that I barely knew anything about. I mean, I only knew her name because it was on the name tag outside of her class.
I skipped the rest of classes that day. I went back to my room and just sat there, wondering and worrying. I tried to remember what I knew about the way marking worked. When did the person show the first signs? What was going to happen next? I paced the floor. I tried to eat but wasn’t hungry. I tried to do some homework, but that wouldn’t work. Number four called but I made an excuse.
And then it was morning. I had worried all night.
My alarm went off and I couldn’t believe it. That’s when I realized that I was going to have to let it go. And then I had to let it go, which wasn’t even, not by a long shot. I mean, I had marked her, or I was pretty sure I had, but I had no real idea of what happened next. I mean, it had been years since I had met someone who had been marked. I was nervous. No, fuck that, I was scared half to death.
It was like one of those things you are confident about until you do it, like gambling, you make a bet and then wait, and second-guess yourself, and wish you had made a different decision. That’s how it was for the first week.
Every time I had five seconds to think, it was all I worried about. I had no idea what was happening, how it was supposed to happen. I mean, the mark was a big deal, it bound us together, but there was no signs that it had happened or that it was working. I saw her in the hall the next day and she didn’t even notice me. She also didn’t look any different than the day before, maybe a little more tired, like she hadn’t slept well, but I was expecting more.
And then I noticed the ring on her finger and my stomach flipped. She was married. My heart sank. I hadn’t even thought about the fact that she might be married.
It’s a common problem with me. I tend to do things without really thinking. It’s been that way forever. I mean, I get an idea and I just do it. I don’t know why. I try to think about stuff, you know, plan stuff out, but it’s not what I’m best at.
That night, the second day after I had marked Olivia. I decided that it must not have worked. That I must have messed something up. I almost convinced myself that I had done it wrong, that maybe I hadn’t touched her long enough or that I had said the words wrong or maybe she hadn’t heard them, she was on the phone after all.