Educating HG – Part 9

You may recall that I had resolved to seduce each of my university girlfriend´s housemates.
A man should have aims and since she was in the sustained devaluation that meant there
was no shackle on me engaging in such activity. She had five housemates, five targets that I
would own and possess. I already knew them of course, they were NISS in my fuel matrix
but it was now time to move each of them up a level and make them IPSS, the question
would be just how intimate I would become with them.

I decided that a structured approach would serve me best, rather than waiting for
opportunity to make an appropriate move, I would make things happen. I hate waiting,
waiting is a waste of one´s time and resources. Accordingly, I decided I would pick them off
one by one and I would start with Joanne.

Joanne was actually American. She was born in the United States, I forget where, as her
father was from the United States although her mother was British. I remember that her
father was called Dennis because she explained that as a child she thought all of the fire
engines belonged to her father as they had “Dennis” on the front of the vehicles. Well,
Joanne was blonde.

She was physically attractive. Long blonde hair which was slightly curled, blue eyes and a
trim figure. An inviting backside made for spanking and pert breasts, naturally, youth
remained on her side, thus everything was where it should be. She was around 5ft 6 in
height and often wore tight fitting jeans. She was studying economics. She put me in mind
of Claudia Schiffer in terms of looks, although she was a little more horsey around the
mouth than Schiffer, but the overall affect was still pleasing to the eye. What proved most
appealing about Joanne however was the fact that she was attractive, both in terms of
physical looks and demeanour and she gathered significant attention from male students
but she never had a boyfriend. Repeatedly, her housemates would suggest suitable
propositions to her but she always dismissed them. I would listen as they would debate
certain individuals, pretending not to pay attention as I watched television but making
careful note of her protestations and reasons for rejection. What was clear to me was that
she wanted to be regarded as special, not in a self-absorbed fashion but rather she evidently
regarded herself as not special and for that reason craved to be treated as special, by
somebody. Although she had been born in the United Stated, her parents divorced when
she was a young child and her mother took her back to Britain, hence she spoke with a
south-eastern accent, no hint of the US evident about her. It was clear she adored her father
but had grown up with a geographically distant relationship with him which evidently lay
behind her mistrust of men as a whole and a desire to be treated as special.

I had always got along perfectly well with Joanne. I made her laugh and took an interest in
her. She regarded that as friendship whereas I was naturally using her as the appliance that
she and everybody else is. I would occasionally catch her watching me as I interacted with
my girlfriend, I could see her regarding me out of the corner of my eye and when I would
turn my head to meet her gaze she would quickly look away and blush. Her reaction fuelled
me and also told me that there was something more than friendship that she desired.
From time to time she would be a little high-handed with my girlfriend, something my
girlfriend would confide in me.

“Oh, I suspect she cannot help feeling somewhat envious of you and the other ladies who
have boyfriends, “ I would explain.
“Well, she could easily get one herself, “ my girlfriend would respond.
“She is scared to do so,” I continued.
“Scared?”
“Yes, she wants it to be perfect. She is a child of divorce, she does not trust relationships
and therefore it has to be perfect otherwise she will not even try. She would rather miss out
than risk getting it wrong.”
“Hmm, do you think so?”
“Oh yes, that is why she gets a little shirty with you, she wants what you have?”
“She wants you?”
Naturally she does but I knew better than to suggest that to my girlfriend, I did not want her
watching my interactions with Joanne and getting in the way of my plan.
“No, not me specifically, she wants the relationship that we have.”
“And what is that?” asked my girlfriend.
“Special,” I smiled and kissed her before hugging her to me as I looked over her shoulder
and smiled at myself in the mirror. She held tight on to me, not a sensation I particularly
enjoyed but the urgency by which she gripped me signalled just how much she remained
under my control, even though I found her increasingly irritating.

Thus, over the coming weeks, I encroached on the world of Joanne. I would meet her gaze
across the room and smile, she would always return the smile and then look down in a
bashful manner. When I passed her in the kitchen for example, I would place a hand on the
small of her back as I moved by her, it was a gentle touch and appeared innocent but it
prompted her to twist her head to look at me and react with a warm smile. I would sit and
talk with her, listening to her concerns about her course work, the subject matter was deatly
dull but I would occupy myself picturing me undressing her and having her, it certainly
proved a much more enjoyable image than the relevant economic principle she was
describing. None of this interaction was done in an excessive manner, it would appear to an
onlooker that we were simply friendly which was to be expected, after all, I would regulalrly
be at the house and it is always preferable for your boyfriend to get along with your friends,
yes? Yet, I was steadily connecting Joanne to me, my tendrils wrapping around her, creating
link after link after link.

It was an autumn afternoon when my girlfriend had departed to the university one
afternoon for a couple of lectures. I had undertaken mine in the morning and already
completed the reading that I needed to do, when I called around at the house to see my
girlfriend, well, I made it seem that that was the case but my aim was to see Joanne. With
my girlfriend gone, I waited in her bedroom to ensure she did not return and then made my
way on to the landing. There was a second, steep staircase which led to two bedrooms at
the top of the house, one adopted by the gothic Nicola and the other by my target, Joanne. I
knew Nicola was out, there was only one other person in the house, Veronica, whose room
was on the ground floor. She was a bookworm and would have her head stuck in her
anatomy books, the likelihood of being disturbed was very low indeed. I reached the top of
the stairs and decided that I would place the ironing board which was propped up against
the wall outside of the two doors across the top of the stairs so that on the off chance that

Veronica did come to see Joanne, she would have to move it out of the way which would
make a noise and allow me to take appropriate action.

With the ironing board in position I approached Joanne´s door and knocked.
“Come in” she said from inside her bedroom.
I pushed the door open and walked in.
“Oh, Hi HG, I hadn´t realized you were still here,” she said smiling.
She was lying on her bed reading a novel, but rose to greet me as I entered the room closing
the door behind me, cutting off the world from the two of us.
I asked her about the book she was reading and feigned interest in her responses. After a
short while I walked to the window. Her room was at the rear of the house, up in the roof
space and afforded an excellent view across the spires and towers of the city. The trees
dotted the cityscape, the leaves russet, gold and brown as Joanne came and stood next to
me. She placed her hands on the window cill and I mirrored her, allowing my right hand to
just touch her left hand. She did not move it.

“Such a special view,” I remarked.
“It is, sometimes I just like to stand here and look out over the city, wondering what goes on
under the different roofs.”
“Oh, all manner of clandestine deeds I should imagine in this city,” I smiled and she gave a
gentle laugh.
“You know,” I continued as I took her hand in mine. She accepted me doing so. There was
no resistance, “it is a view which will live long in your memory.”
I turned to face her and maintained my steady unblinking gaze on her. She looked back at
me. I saw uncertainty but also excitement flicker across her face. She pushed at her hair
with her free hand, making no attempt to break away from my handhold.
“Why is that then?” she asked.
“Why do you think?” I replied continuing to look at her. I knew what she wanted, I knew
that by my sheer presence her feelings would be a maelstrom, a reaction to the tour de
force that stood beside her, towering over her.
“I´m, I´m not sure,” she said.
“You know,” I repeated, “I regard you as special,” I remarked still staring at her. She smiled
self-consciously and looked away and then straight back at me as if to check I had meant it.
“Really? Why?” she asked.
I took her other hand and she accepted it.

“Words are very unnecessary,” I added. I knew she would get the reference. She liked them
too.
She nodded and I knew then that was the green light. I moved forward and slipped my arm
around her back, pulling her to me, she tilted her head as I placed my mouth on hers and
kissed her. She immediately put her arms around me as I kissed her, our mouths moving
together, my left hand pulling her t-shirt from out of her jeans and my hand slipping
underneath so my fingers could slide up and down her back. The first murmur of delight
slipped from her mouth as we stood kissing at the window. I continued, my tongue slipping
into her mouth and meeting her own, I pulled her tighter to me as my right hand went to
the back of her neck.

I then lifted my mouth from her and she looked at me as if slightly disorientated. I said
nothing, I paused and then she moved her mouth forward wanting more, wanting to feel my

full lips pressed against her own, her hands rubbing up and down on my broad back as we
resumed kissing and so it happened in that small room atop the house on a crisp autumnal
day.

First one down.