Granola Girl

By Janey O'Mara

After getting dumped by his girlfriend, Jim wants nothing more than to spend the weekend in his dorm moping, but when his hippie classmate Heather gets kicked out of her apartment, he agrees to let her crash in his room. He doesn't expect anything in return, but when Heather offers to sleep with him he can't very well say no. And then she breaks out her collection of sex toys.

Jim's about to learn the hard way that hippie chicks are super freaks.

(Also available in the collection, "I Was a Co-ed Nympho.")

• Language: English
• Publisher: Pulp Electronique
• Release date: Feb 11, 2011
• ISBN: 9780463249154

Janey O'Mara

Janey O’Mara was, until five years ago, a stay-at-home mom in Hemingford Home, Nebraska. She first got into writing erotica through the world of Supernatural fanfic. “Yeah, I was big on the Wincest for a time,” she tells us. Eventually she decided to venture into writing original erotic fiction.“I was a quiet girl in college–that was how I was raised, girls don’t speak up. My family was a hyper-traditional, get dressed up for church every Sunday sort, so I didn’t go out and party while I was at college myself. Really, I only there to get my M.R.S. degree. It was only years later that I regretted that, so my first erotica was about college girls being big ol’ sluts. That’s still my favorite genre.”Janey’s stories were among the first published by Pulp Electronique when we opened in 2011, and her “Losing It” remains one of our all-time best sellers. Since then Janey has rewritten her entire life.“Once I got into erotic publishing, I wanted to expand my horizons, go out and experiment. Gain those experiences that I missed in my youth. But my husband wouldn’t have anything to do with it. So we got divorced. I waited until our kids were in college, then I left him. Now my sex life is nearly–nearly–as exciting as my fiction. I’m not gonna tell you my user name, I but I’m an active participant on Fetlife. I’ve got my pets, guys who’ll do whatever I ask of them.”What does the future hold for Janey O’Mara?“Oh, I definitely want to explore more kinks with my fiction, stuff I’d never try in real life but’s fun in fantasy.”

Book preview

GRANOLA GIRL

JANEY O’MARA

Text © 2011 Janey O’Mara

Cover art © 2019 Sean O’Hara

A Pulp Electronique Book

Smashwords Edition

Also by Janey O’Mara

Easy A or Easy Lay? *

Granola Girl *

Dungeons, Dragons & Lesbians *

Losing It *

Mud Puddle Reunion *

I Used to Be a Good Girl *

Coed Needs Cash

My Best Friend’s Sister (Is a Kinky Slut!)

If My New Neighbor Is a Total Nympho, Should I Care That She's on the Spectrum?

She’ll Do It Anywhere

1. Training (forthcoming)

Truth or Dare Orgy:

1. Public Display of Affection

2. Full Service Pizza Delivery (forthcoming)

Blackmailed!

1. Shoplifters Must Pay!

2. Christmas Train (forthcoming)

* Also available in the collection I Was a Coed Nympho

GRANOLA GIRL

I was getting up to leave class when the girl next to me said, Say man, do you know where there’s a post office around here?

Heather was a hippie chick. She always had a vacant look in her eyes that made me question the quality of any college that would accept her as a student. Despite being as white as a glass of milk, she wore her hair in dreadlocks—or at least they were supposed to be dreads, though it came off looking like she hadn’t washed her hair in months. I don’t think she owned an item of clothing that wasn’t tie-dyed or made of hemp. And though she was always talking about how she didn’t eat anything except nuts and grains, she tended towards the tubby side—not quite fat, but she had lots to hold onto, if you know what I mean.

I’d never talked to her outside of class—never really talked to her in class for that matter, except that one time we were assigned a group project together—so I was a little surprised at her starting a conversation with me. As I slung my backpack over my shoulder, I said, There’s one in the student union in the Village.

The Village?

The main dorm area.

Oh, she said. Then, I don’t live on campus.

Come on, I said, suspecting I was going to regret this. I have to go that way for dinner.

I led her across campus, trying to be polite and strike a conversation, which morphed into a debate on the merits of Pink Floyd vs The Grateful Dead. Being a hippie, Heather believed in the primacy of Jerry Garcia over every rock musician ever, a contention I found frankly absurd. But we did find common ground on the fact that anyone who listens to Phish is a superficial poseur.

Once we reached the SU, I led her down to the mail room. After performing my weekly check of my mail box—nothing but junk—I excused myself and slipped off to the