Goodbye, Miss Granger - Part 2 - Sex Stories

Goodbye, Miss Granger - Part 2

... talk to. As I searched the faces, one guy stepped through the crowd, searching around like he was lost. He was pretty short, about 5’6”, but still taller than me even in low heels. He looked well-dressed in jeans and an open collar shirt that showed off a strong neck and a little bit of hair on his chest. His beard made it hard to tell the shape of his face, but he had cute cheekbones, dark eyes and thick, wavy, dark brown hair. Still scanning the faces in the crowd, his eyes passed straight over me and then, like a delayed reaction, I saw them widen and flick back again, almost imperceptibly dropping to take in the tight bodice of my dress before he locked back onto my eyes. I almost looked away, but with the boldness gained by a couple of cans of beer I kept eye contact and smiled. He was cute and exactly the type of guy that Belinda had brought me here to meet. Miraculously, he came towards me. Oh shit, here goes. I wish I had another drink. “Hi,” he said simply. “I’m looking for someone.” Oh my goodness, that was bold! I guess I came here looking for someone too, but I’m hardly about to march up to a stranger and announce it. “Well, perhaps you’ve found her,” I smiled. Holy crap! Who said that? ‘Cos it sure as shit wasn’t the Jeannie I grew up with! “Pardon?” his eyes widened with surprise, not quite sure he heard that right. “My name’s Jeannie,” I said, moving my lips closer to his ear, ostensibly to make sure he heard me, but also to smell his aftershave, which was ...

... something woody and reminiscent of the outdoors. “I’m Kevin,” he copied my action by leaning close to my ear and I felt a tingle of excitement wondering if he was smelling me too. “I’m sorry,” he continued, “but I have to confess that I don’t know you.” “What?” I smiled, but I was confused. “Well that makes us even.” “No,” he shook his head. “I don’t recognise you. I mean, I know you’re some kind of celebrity, but I’m not very good with names or faces.” This was entertaining. I usually get told exactly who I look like, but this was almost the exact opposite. “Then how do you know I’m not just some boring Pure Maths post-grad?” I grinned playfully. “Because there’s a life-sized cardboard cut-out of you beside the sign-up desk,” he informed me. “That’s why I noticed you when I came in. I thought you were another cut-out until you moved.” “Oh!” I said, disappointed. “Is that the only reason?” “Um? Oh, no,” he backpedalled. “Just at first. Your dress; it’s … um … very …” “Conspicuous?” “Striking, I was going to say,” he laughed, recovering nicely. “But yes, that too.” We looked around together at the collection of t-shirts and jeans, plus a small number of Hogwarts school uniforms like Belinda’s. “Why are there school kids here drinking Jimmy-and-Coke?” I suddenly understood the last minute of conversation; he doesn’t know Harry Potter or Hogwarts, and he certainly doesn’t know Hermione Granger. “Kevin,” I laughed. “Do you know what party you’re at?” “Hags?” he asked uncertainly. ...