Dear Jane Doe

Today had been going completely fine until I found her letter. The sky held absolutely no cloud within the horizon as if even a mere smudge of white would ruin a perfect sea of blue. My ego had been boosted considerably after I was swarmed with high school girls and admired by all the guys. It was open day. Something in my brain should have clicked but I was too high on the sunshine and my ego.

“Hey Alec” Esmeralda, head cheerleader and one of the most desired girls in college, hollered at me with a meaningful look in her dark eyes. She was Hispanic, so short that she didn’t make it to my shoulder, but stunning in all her pouting glory. She was one of those girls that I’d deliberately targeted since the beginning of the year to no avail. But then nobody could resist me for long. Her resistance simply couldn’t take my dark hair and tanned skin hugged in with skinny jeans.

I cupped an arm proudly around her to show how I’d triumphantly caught Esmeralda. Everyone knew what would happen next. I was a legend.

I was correct in waiting so long for her. My 23 minutes in the Janitor’s closet were the most pleasurable I’d ever had. She was a dominator and, for some reason, this just turned me on infinitely more. But even at my second orgasm I couldn’t keep my mind off of my Jane Doe; I found that imagining it was her hands caressing my shaft and her legs wrapped around my waist simply prolonged my satisfaction.

Guys passed me in the corridor and stopped to pat me jubilantly on the back. I was more of ‘the king’ then I had ever been and it thrilled me to be so well respected. Nobody could mess with me; I’d just sexed up the hottest girl in college.

But little did others know that this triumph paled in comparison with my letters to Jane Doe. Just knowing that it was her hand that had traced across my notes, her breath which had come out in a small peel of laughter and her perfect eyes which had blessed these letters made me infinitely happy.

I was talking to her even if it was via paper and pen.

As I picked up the newest exchange the first thing I noticed was small water indents as if it had been raining. In confusion, I shot a suspicious eye at the sky which blazed back in all its clear innocence. It wasn’t the rain…

“I hate him. I hate that guy. It was an open day at the college and I saw him with a girl. She was beautiful; of fucking course she was beautiful. Oh how I wish you were with me to block out all this excess pain. You would never take advantage of girls in such a way as Alec Bradshaw does. Do you know of him? Probably since he is ‘the king’.”

I stared at it for some time in complete silence. My eyes traced over my name again and again before moving on to all the hurt she’d poured out to me. To this confidant. Then, with a jolt of horror, I realised the water marks were her tears. I’d made her cry!

Not only did I feel like a complete jerk for making her so upset but I also felt terrible as if I were somehow deceiving her into telling me such things. She had absolutely no idea of what my true identity was and she would certainly never trust me if she did. How she had no idea just what I’d give to really hold her through her tears. But even if I could she’d just push me away in disgust.

She fucking hated me.

And she was right about everything. I was a scoundrel to use girls like that even if they did know what they were getting into. It was just me being horny Alec Bradshaw who could get anybody that he wanted.

Suddenly Esmeralda’s earlier passion just made me feel dirty. No longer did it provoke a fierce pride that it should have done… would have done. And my Jane Doe was there all the time in the grounds. While I was with Esmeralda I could have been gazing at her with all this pent up infatuation until her body was imprinted on my eyelids.

'Do I know of Alec Bradshaw?’ I scrawled on the back of her note ‘you could say I know him better than anybody else. He’s a jerk; I’d never take advantage of anybody the way he used to do girls. But give him some time because I know he’s an evolving guy just late in the stages of development (mentally not physically as many of the girls probably know). Don’t feel pain over him, he isn’t worth your beautiful tears.’

With a finger I traced her tear marks. Never again would I be the cause of such hurt for my wonderfully pure Jane Doe. I cared for her more than I had ever cared for any girl in my life, she deserved so much more but I was still being selfish. I wanted her. I wanted her so bad my body shook with the desire.

“Give me time” I whispered into the wind “I’ll show you how I can change.”