A Cowboy's Princess

Chapter 1: New York Culture

"Fuck,." I moan out as Will, my casual hookup, thrashes his hips into mine.

"Come on baby, arch that back for me." He whispers.

And let me tell you that doesn't turn me on. I should be in excruciating pleasure for me to arch my back. Will has made me come twice in the time we've been together. That means twice in six months, mind you we have sex at least once a week. The sex is good, I think, it makes me feel good but knowing he's seeing other girls and makes it known that he is, really turns me off.

I moan again to make him feel good about himself as I arch my back doing as he "commands' '. And you're probably wondering why he's my casual hook up and not some tall, dark, and handsome man. Well to put it quite simply, he's easy and reliable. If I need to fuck, he's down and I don't have to put in any effort in winning his affection. Also, being a fashion major at NYU - it's difficult to even find the time to fuck a medicore business major Will.

Like there's no reason I should be able to have coherent thoughts as a man is rocking my body and just as I'm thinking to myself... I feel Will pull out and shoot his shit across my stomach and no, I didn't come.

"Fuck that felt so good. You're the hottest girl I've been with, I swear. Did you come?" Will almost chuckles out of breath, rolling onto his backside.

"Yeah, duh," I try not to say in a monotone as I tug his sheet up past my chest.

I glance over at him and he's not even paying attention. He's rolled onto his side reading text messages and from the recipient it says "I asked Santa for your cock". I internally gag in my head but I can't blame the girl. I'd be a hypocrite if I did blame her. His cock was just in me.

"I'm heading out," I say rushed, throwing on my dress from the night out.

"Mhm, see ya," Will says, nodding his head - still not looking in my direction.

What an ass. Whatever. I wouldn't be pissy if he just took the extra minute or so to help me finish. Makes me wonder if he ever helps girls finish... Eh, it doesn't matter. That's their problem.

Tomorrow, I head home to Oakley, Tennessee where my parents live. My parents are very philanthropic, traveling to underdeveloped countries to uplift their medical and educational needs. They even have their own nonprofit organization - which is probably the sole reason I'm attending NYU. I wouldn't be without the help of "daddy's money". Yes, I'm the silver spoon kid of rich parents. I'm not a dick about it though. Trust me, I've met plenty of people who are, like Will. His dad is a stockbroker and will causally lose millions at 9am on a Monday and not even flinch a muscle. And Will being Will, he'll let you know what his daddy does.

Anyways...I have a flight tomorrow into Nashville and about a 4 hour drive to Oakley. For some reason my parents wanted to live in the middle of nowhere with their manor and not in Nashville with Taylor Swift or Reese Witherspoon being our neighbors. I mean come on, we've all seen Legally Blonde, iconic. The land we live on is supposed to be for a farm but my parents like the emptiness. I think it has to do with their views against capitalism. I could go more into that but I'm sure dad will bring it up during dinner conversation casually.

I pick up my purse and keys and pretty much bolt out of Will's apartment. I have no desire to run into his roommate, Brad. If you know a Chad, let me tell you a Brad is worse and somehow he thinks the girls Will has over will want a second round right after with him. Horrific. I slid into my KIA Soul and yes, the square car. My parents made a point at the car dealership to say that it's a dependable car so I just nodded my head and here I am with a KIA Soul. And I actually love it but she's really not the cutest thing.

As I drive home, I overthink way too hard. I'm 100% sure that if girls don't come they have the same effects when guys get post nut clarity. Shit just begins to make so much more sense. What am I doing with my life? I literally live in New York - the city that never sleeps. I could be romanticizing the shit out of my life. Meet random strangers, dance the night away, and feel euphoric without being a single drop intoxicated. Yet, I'm leaving a fuckboy's apartment heading home to my parents telling them that I finally drew up some of my first sketches for school...most of the other girls in my program have been sewing since they could write. Not me. I didn't know what I wanted to do with my life but I love clothes because who doesn't and here I am. I still don't even know what I want to do past college but it's only my sophomore year so I don't have to worry about it (I took all of my preliminary classes freshman year). And oddly, I'm so lonely. I think that's something that needs to be talked about more. Living in New York, everyone is going. No one is stopping to think about anyone or anything. So for one, I barely have time to fuck and two, so does everyone else so I don't have any real girlfriends. The other girls in class intimidate me with their talent anyways.

Fuck. I still have a knot in my stomach. I honestly wouldn't be surprised if I was turning myself on. I know I'm hot (after an immensely long journey of self love, some middle school bullying, and several sexual relationships). As I drive with one hand, my other hand slips between my legs to my clit - softly rubbing in slow, circular motions. I try not to moan so I don't close my eyes and you know crash so instead I bite down on my lip hard. Then I immediately stop to turn with both hands, breathe, and go back to rubbing and tugging at my clit.

I pull into my apartment complex and pretty much bolt out of the car, simply excited to finish by myself. I shakily try to jam my keys into the keyhole of my apartment.

"Fuck. Just go in. Damn you," I cuss out my house key.

Finally, the door jiggers and I drop everything at the front door and hurriedly head to my room. I don't even bother peeling off my dress. I actually start rubbing myself through my dress and the pressure is just perfect.

"Mhm, fuck you're good," I moan not sure if I was talking to myself or hoping it was someone else.

I slowly lift my dress up, finally feeling my heat. I slowly pump in a finger then two. I'm way more wet than I anticipated. I toss my head back, closing my eyes to heighten my senses.

I just want to feel something. Anything.

I then take my other hand and begin to tap lightly on my clit which sends me into overload. My breathing quickens and because I'm already over this night I pump myself quicker. That sends me over the edge and I come on the spot.

I breathe out one heavy breath and look lazily around the room, still questioning everything. I can't wait to go home to feel something constant in my life. To be around my loving parents who I haven't seen in so long.

I'm too tired to get up and shower so I just fall asleep at the exact spot I just had my high. It's that kinda tired where once you close your eyes it feels like a reward and every muscle in your body thanks you by relaxing. It makes me pass out.

I wake up to my alarm beeping - honestly screeching at 4:30am.

"Shit. Shit. My flight," I say hurriedly.

I totally forgot to pack. I told myself that I'd pack last night after I came home, seeing as how my night ended, I understand how I forgot. Completely besides the point, I don't have enough time to thoroughly plan out any of my clothes. I whip out a suitcase near the front door closet and take a handful of clothes, dump them in, and zip the suitcase shut. I leave my apartment in such a hurry that I almost forget to lock my apartment as I'm pushing the elevator button so I run back and lock it.

"Dear God, please help," I pray into the elevator door.

How much worse can this week get?