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I had a crush on Jason. And who wouldn't, really? He was tall, buff, a tiger, with soft blond hair that sat over the top of his forehead.

He was perfect, in other words.

Also perfectly perverted. There were a lot of stories about him going around, about how he liked to peek into the girl's bathroom after a group of them went in there. How he would follow women into their bedrooms. Typical teen boy stuff. Except Jason was 21 and should have grown out of it by now.

All new freshmen were warned against him. Most of them listened, including me. Now it was three years later and I wish I hadn't.

The strikes against him had grown long and dangerous and no woman worth her salt would be caught dead near him. At least, not on purpose.

I saw him once in the library. He was browsing through the books along the same aisle as another student, a female ferret. She was wearing a mini skirt and was nose deep in a book.

I was just around the corner. I hadn't intended to watch, but I couldn't help myself. I had heard about Jason's exploits for years but I had never seen the guy in action.

He just walked right behind her. Or that's what it was on the outside, if you weren't looking close enough.

But once you were looking close enough, you could see his hand at work. It slipped right underneath the hem of the woman's skirt and flipped it up high enough just to reveal just a sliver of her lavender-pink panties. I saw her stiffen and her fur rise on edge; she felt it. Her head was just turning over her shoulder as Jason's phone slid out from his pocket. There wasn't a flash. There was barely a camera sound.

The woman turned full on around, the book clasped hard in her hand. "How dare you," she hissed at him. Her cheeks were a bright red, from embarrassment or anger I couldn't tell.

Jason shrugged innocently and lifted up his hands. His phone had vanished back into his pocket, so he was holding nothing. "What?" he asked innocently.

And the woman stomped away.

My panties gushed. I wanted someone to do that to me. I wanted Jason to do that to me. I wanted his hand on my skirt, flipping it up and revealing my panties to the world. I wanted him to come up to me when I least expected it and do something revealing and humiliating.

I squeezed my knees together. I needed him to violate me. I needed it.

I didn't know when I was going to get my chance for the longest time, but then I finally heard it. There was going to be a Christmas party at the end of the calendar year. It was being hosted by one of the frat houses. Everyone was invited. Well, ostensibly everyone. I was a no one. I had very few friends, and those friends had very few friends. By all accounts I had no right to be there.

But I went there anyways. I was a woman with a mission, and that mission was to get Jason to do something creepy to me so I could slink home and cherish that memory forever. I would masturbate to it so many times, I could tell. I wore a mini skirt, so there were chances for upskirts. I didn't wear a bra so my nipples would poke through my top.

I made a game plan: I would never close the bathroom door all the way, I'd take off my shoes by putting my foot on a chair, I'd walk by him any chance I could get. Hell, I'd spill punch all over my shirt if it would entice him to take a secretive picture of my barely-hidden chest. I couldn't throw myself at him, oh, no. He wanted to do it covertly. I wanted to do it covertly. Really, we were on the same wavelength.

How would I react? With shock? Offense? I wanted to see that devilish little smile after he had gotten away with it. That no one bothered to stop him. Maybe I would yell at him to delete the picture. Maybe I would call him a pervert for staring at my punch-soaked chest. "Why invited you anyways", "Who gave you the right", I had so many options.

The house was crowded and what seemed to be hundreds of people were milling around, talking. The heavy smell of booze lingered in the air. I was tempted, but I didn't want to accidentally miss a single beat of tonight's events.

I could feel people pressing in on me from every angle. It made me hot and uncomfortable, how many eyes could be staring at me right now. Could they see my nipples? Could they smell my arousal? I couldn't tell. But there was one man I definitely wanted to notice me.

And I spotted him, sitting on the couch. He was talking to a friend of his, a male friend, someone he wouldn't quietly assault in an empty hallway.

So no current competition. Bingo. God knows how many pictures he'd taken of low cut shirts already that evening, but that didn't matter. His next picture was going to be of me.

I sat down next to him. I had grabbed a cup of punch just in case I needed the prop, but I didn't think I'd need it. Just sitting down next to him should draw his attention.

And it did. He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye, then did a double take. His gaze first landed on my knees and the bare stretch of thigh above them.

My pussy tingled underneath his gaze. He was looking just right below it. A little bit higher and he'd be staring right at my crotch itself.

I bit my lip and glanced up at him, watching where his eyes went.

His look crawled slowly up my body and I could feel him undressing me in his mind, seeing me naked and vulnerable. It made my heart pound. His gaze stopped at my chest. My nipples were poking through my shirt, and I could have sworn that they grew three sizes in the fraction of a second he was looking at them.

When he looked away I let go of a breath that I didn't know that I had been holding. Holy shit. My entire body felt like it was on fire. I had never been creeped on so hard by someone else in my life. There was that internal desire to get away battling the need for more inside of me. That was covert. That was overt. He openly stared at me, leered at me. There were no pictures on his phone, but he had a picture in his mind, and it was all of me.

My panties were soaking wet. I was starting to get worried that they were going to drip down onto my skirt.

I didn't know what to do next. He was talking to his friend again and I was just sitting there like an idiot. It was going to be obvious soon that I was just sitting weirdly close to Jason for apparently no reason. I was sure most women who were stared hard at like that left in disgust, but I was too overwhelmed by pure humiliating arousal to move.

Thankfully Jason got up instead, resolving my little problem. As he did the back of his hand brushed against the side of my breast. I had no idea how he did it. It wasn't like his hand was originally anywhere near my chest, yet there it was, large and hot. His knuckles just barely touched my nipple.

I swear to God I just about came right there on the couch. Electricity filled every single inch of my body. I was offended at his impertinence and oh-so-very turned on.

I put my cup down on the coffee table. The tension was too much for me, I needed to get off.

I beelined my way to the bathroom, but there was a line. I huffed. There was no way a fraternity house had only one bathroom, so I went upstairs where it was quieter.

I'd go in there and take care of my business. Was I going to shut the door? I didn't know. Maybe I should leave it open and--no, did I want him to break the mystery? Did I just want him to lust after me?

I stopped in the middle of the hallway. What would I want him to do if he found me? But he wouldn't even do anything, I could be spread-eagle on the toilet with my fingers deep inside of me, and he would stand outside the bathroom with his phone out, taking pictures--

Okay, door stays open, just a touch--

Someone was behind me.

I froze. Two hands landed on my shoulder, then pushed me swiftly around until I was pressed face-first into the wall.

"What--" I managed to get out. The hands left my shoulders then slid under my arms until they each grabbed a breast.

They both gave me a painfully hard squeeze and slid off, pinching my nipples as they went.

And then they were gone.

My face was still against the faded wallpaper of the wall. I felt flush and hot all the way through, and my heart was pounding.

What did--

He tou--

My nipples felt like they were going to explode.

He touch--

My underwear was a complete mess and was dripping moisture all down the inside of my thighs. I toddled to the bathroom and closed the door and locked it behind me. I peeled my panties away from my crotch and the heavy smell of my arousal filled the air.

"God," I muttered. My face was bright red. My breasts ached heavily. He touched me. He had really touched me. My nipples were an angry purple color, ready for attention. I brought my hand down between my legs and slipped a finger inside of myself. It came out soaking wet.

He had touched me.

And I wanted more.