I ran a lot that semester. Sometimes I would pass her by the lake, throwing my arms wide in a ‘why not?’ gesture that she would shake her head at and then ignore. One of her professors was part of a poker club I belonged to, so from time to time I’d stop by the class to chat and, if she didn’t immediately disappear, strike up a conversation with her as she walked to her next class. It infuriated her to a degree, but there was also something in her – that deep, dark, demented part – that was drawn to my stupidity and my tenacity. I know this because she told me.
She told me one day while we were walking across campus. We’d just left the economics wing and I was trying to make conversation about a party I didn’t want to go to alone.
“I don’t even have to see you anymore,” she said. “I can just smell the desperation coming.”
I’d only been at this for a week or two. She wasn’t wrong, though.
Suddenly, she slapped her forehead. “Oh shit, I forgot to ask Tim if that paper is due this Friday or next.” She swung on her heel, and so did I.
“So about this party,” I said.
“Not a chance,” she said. “When do you and Tim play poker? He’s stupidly bad at answering emails.”
“Later tonight,” I said.
“Well if he’s not here…” She brushed open the door to the lecture hall – the empty lecture hall – and cursed. She swiveled on her heel again and then made for his office. I followed, feeling, as I always did, that I was straddling a fine line between being a pest (or at worst, a stalker) and being on the verge of a breakthrough. I was to find out that, either way, she’d give me an answer soon enough. She’d never once told me to get lost, which I found encouraging.
“This paper is kicking my ass,” she said, “and another week would be good. Plus there’s the fucking firm and their stupid party-” Stephanie worked, as near as I could tell, three different jobs, or two jobs and an internship, in addition to her course work and teacher assistant duties. She was Type A all the way.
“You need a date?”
“I have too much work,” she said. We entered the faculty offices and made a beeline for Tim’s door. “That’s all I do is work. I come home and Pam is sitting on the fucking couch whining about the last date that went awry. Like, I’m here to get a fucking job and as near as I can figure she’s here to find a husband or die. It’s gross.” She did that magical business thing where her face went from utter contempt to bright and bubbly as she saw a professor she was trying to secure another internship with. “Mr. Gaffley! So good to see you! Oh my gosh, how did your daughter’s recital go?”
I watched her chat with him like a machine, plugging in all the courtesies that were due and precisely working her way up from the personal to the academic to the brass tacks of her mission. It was cold, it was clinical, it was all bullshit, but it was bullshit that Stephanie used like a precision instrument. I wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d given her the internship on the spot. Instead, they made a lunch date with another professor and would take it from there.
And then, before my eyes, someone else she knew – a professor or near enough to it – appeared down the hall and I watched her create a whole other program to get what she wanted from him. It was mesmerizing watching her work. Once that was over, she tightened those perfect gams of hers and continued on her journey to Tim’s office. She scanned her watch, and then looked back at me to see if I was still there.
“Well done,” I said.
“Yeah, and now I’m late for my least favorite class,” she grunted. “I don’t know why I’m killing myself for these assholes. Oh right, because I fucking hate myself.”
She knocked on Tim’s door. After no answer, another knock, and no answer, she turned the knob and poked her head inside. Her shoulders slumped. “Well that’s just typical,” she said. “Your buddy’s gone fishing.” Instead of leaving, though, she strode inside and whipped her bag onto one of the chairs. “Get in here,” she said.
I did.
“Close the door,” she said. So I did.
“Why don’t you put that perpetual boner of yours to good use,” she said, as she grabbed my arms and forced me against the door. I wasn’t sure if it was a bite or it was a kiss, but soon enough I was tasting her. Her fingers dug into the back of my neck as she hissed into my ear, “If you’re bad at this I’ll slap you with a restraining order the next time I see you.” Her other hand was already undoing my belt.
“What if Tim comes back?” I said.
“What if Stephanie needs to cum right now?” she asked. She looked up into my eyes. It was a challenge if I ever saw one.
When she got my pants off, she bent down into a crouch and pulled my cock out of my boxers. She gripped it tightly, inspected it, top to bottom, side to side. “Good,” was all she said. “I hate tiny cocks.” Then she put her mouth on it, and I shivered all the way down to my toes.
She wasn’t at that long before she was up on her feet and tying her hair back in a ponytail. Then she pulled her shirt up over her head and threw it on top of her bag. “Help me pull these off,” she said, backing up onto Tim’s desk. She unbuttoned her shorts and put her ass up onto the desk as I slid them down her taut legs. Watching her extend those beautiful things only made me harder, and she noticed. I started on her shoes, but she shook her head. “I don’t have time. Just pull my panties to the side. I want you to eat my pussy, and don’t say you don’t do that. Pam talks.”
“Yes, ma’am,” was all I said, as I bent down to Stephanie’s shaved vagina and lovingly traced her clit with my tongue. I heard the sharp intake of breath that might have signaled I was on the right track. She buried her fingers in my hair and shoved me between her legs.
“Fuck,” she said. “Deeper.”
My tongue probed into her, the sour, acid taste of her, and soon her vulva was enveloped by my mouth. “Mmm,” Stephanie moaned above me, and I moaned into her pussy. She liked that, so I did it again, and again as her thigh rubbed my cheek.
“Poor little Pam,” I heard her murmur. “You’re my little fucktoy now.” She pushed forward with her pelvis to signal me to get up. I stood, my cock swinging, and she gave an appreciative raise of her eyebrows. “Now you get to do what you’ve been jerking off to since we met.” She turned her back to me (Jesus, that ass) and pulled her panties down. Not all the way, though, not down to her ankles. She pulled them just low enough to give me access and then bent over Tim’s desk.
I caressed that perfect ass and spread her cheeks, opening her up to see her asshole and her pussy. “Mmh,” Stephanie groaned. “Have you been jerking off to me?”
“You know I have,” I said. I encircled her wet slit with my pulsing cock.
“That gets me wet,” she said, as I pushed inside her. “Aww! Knowing you want it so bad. It’s that s-stupid – ah – tenacious-n-ness – fuck! – that -” I shoved my full length inside her, not waiting for her to get used to me, and she stopped talking for a few seconds to quiver over the desk. “Ahhhnn,” she groaned. “Didn’t even… give me a… ahhhh.” I pulled out and slid it back in. “I got so wet when I realized you were just staring at my ass,” she said. “Listening to you fuck Pam, I, ahh! You creep. You’re in-inside me now, I- ah!”
“Stephanie?” I said, leaning down over her ear. I was balls deep inside her, one hand on her hip, the other on her shoulder.
“Nn?” she said.
“Shut up.”
I covered her mouth and began to fuck her hard. Stephanie moaned. She screamed. She cried bloody murder as I thrust and thrust, her thighs trapped by her tight panties tightening with every plunge, squeezing me deeper inside the constricting walls of her vagina. Her pelvis banged against the desk. Her knuckles turned white where they gripped the lip of the wood, and her ass turned red from my repeated poundings. I spanked her, I squeezed her, I used her with all the pent-up lust I had stored away for this day, and somewhere in the bewildering tangle of minutes it must have triggered the release that she craved. When she came, I felt her do it: A warm, thick flow dribbled over my balls and oozed down her thighs. “Ahhhhhh,” she cried into my moist palm. “I’m so late for class…”
I pushed and pushed, riding her sweet canal until she had me to the hilt. Her legs went straight as I pinned her to the desk. She was balancing on the toes of her shoes. Breathless, she felt me nearing my end, and stammered into finger, “My ass. C-cum on my ass…”
It was painful to pull myself fully out of that tight, athletic body, but I obeyed, grasping myself and exploding across her beet-red buttocks. I heard another cry from her as my semen splattered against her skin, as if this too triggered another release. I came again and again, and she jerked with every new ejaculation, reeling from micro-orgasms that sparkled their way down her legs.
When it was over, I had to hold myself against the desk, my cock shrinking against her buttocks. Stephanie recovered more quickly, though she continued to pant for the ensuing minute.
Eventually she regained enough composure to reach across the desk for tissues. She handed me one and told me to clean up my mess. I grinned as I polished the sticky cum off her muscular ass, and she didn’t seem to mind when I gave it an appreciative pinch. She slid a few tissues between her thighs, cleaning up her own cum, and then took a few more to dab at her forehead and under her eyes. I was treated to the mesmerizing sight of her shimmying her panties up her luscious legs and then stepping into her shorts.
“And that didn’t even cost you dinner,” she said, reaching up to pull her hair out of its ponytail. She combed her fingers through her brown tresses.
I buckled my belt and slung my bag over my shoulder. She grabbed her bag and gave the room a once-over, checking that everything was in place. “I hope Tim doesn’t mind that sex smell,” I said.
“You can ask him when you see him tonight,” she said. I opened the door for her and she stepped out, checking both ends of the hall and walking with only the slightest hint that she’d been fucked like a prize mare.
As if she could read my thoughts, she gave a polite cough and rearranged herself, making sure to check no one was watching. She glanced at me over my shoulder. “Not bad, Johnny.”
I grinned and fell in step beside her as we exited the econ building. “You know, I still want to take you to dinner.”
“Oh, why spoil a good thing?” she said. “You got what you wanted, after all.”
“And what do you want?” I asked.
“I want things to be simple,” she said. “Efficient.” Tentatively, she reached out and put her hand on my arm. “I wouldn’t mind more of that, just like that.”
“I want to see you in heels,” I said.
That might have been one of the few times I saw her smile without reservation. “I know you do,” she said.