Masuk
Mia
The hallway was quiet, but inside the student bathroom, my heart was screaming.
I was pushed up against the cold porcelain surface of the sink. My skirt was hiked up to my waist, and my breath was coming in short, jagged gasps. I’m Mia, would be 21 in two months.
I'm the girl most people would term the secret whore of the school. But I didn't give a fuck. At least I was better than Sarah—the open whore. I fuck only ‘dicks that matters.’
Jax, the school hockey captain, had his hands buried in my hair, pulling my head back so he could bite at my neck.
"Ahhh fuck! Yes… oh, fuck yes…" I moaned. “Go faster Jax. Fuck… oh… fuck.”
"Bring your voice down, Mia. Someone’s gonna walk in," Jax whispered, even though he didn't sound like he cared. He was moving inside me, hard and fast, his thrusts making my face slap against the porcelain surface.
"Let… ah… fuck… them.. hear," I shot back as I arched my back, pushing my ass further against him, inviting him to go deeper. I loved the risk. I loved knowing that at any second, a janitor or a Dean could walk through that door.
He groaned, his grip tightening on my hips. He was hitting that perfect spot, and I was seconds away from losing my mind.
“Oohhh ohhh ohh yes… faster Jax ahhh Yesss ohh I'm.. ahh… yess. Oh..”
My eyes were squeezed shut, my fingers clawing into the smooth surface of the sink. I was already feeling the waves of release coming at me.
Bang!
The heavy door swung open.
Jax froze. He stopped moving instantly, his body stiffening, but he was still solidly buried inside me. He hid his face in the crook of my neck. I knew he was terrified, especially with the way he held his breath.
We were waiting for a shout, a lecturer’s voice, or the sound of someone running to get the Dean.
My eyes flew open, and I looked straight into the big bathroom mirror. Through the reflection, I saw the door.
A man walked in.
He wasn't a student. He was older, tall, and built like a hulk in a perfectly tailored ash suit and a dark tie. As he walked in, I expected him to freeze, or maybe gasp—anything.
But he didn't.
He didn't stop. He didn't even look in the direction we were in. He absolutely did not acknowledge the fact that a girl was arching her naked ass up for the school captain right in front of the sinks. In the school bathroom!
"Jax," I whispered, my pussy already pulsing at that level of nonchalance. "Keep going."
"Are you insane?" Jax hissed, his voice low but trembling. "There's someone here!"
EXACTLY! That was the main reason why I wanted him to keep going. I looked at the man in the mirror, and a thought flashed through my head: I wanted him to see. I thrust my hips backward, forcing Jax to move.
"Ahhhhhh… Jax!" I let out a loud, shaky moan as I watched the mirror.
The man walked right up to the sink next to us. He was so close I could smell his expensive cologne. He turned on the faucet, and the water gushed out. I watched him as he pumped soap into his large, steady hands.
Fuck. Why am I imagining those hands on me instead of Jax’s?
I pushed myself deeper, slamming back onto Jax. "Ohhh… fuck… mmmnnn…" I moaned.
I watched this strange handsomeness as he began to wash his hands, slowly rubbing his palms together and cleaning between his fingers as if he were alone in his own house. I kept moving against Jax, my eyes locked on the stranger, waiting for some kind of reaction. But none came. If he wasn't washing his hands right now, I would have thought he was blind.
He didn't flinch. He rinsed his hands, reached for a paper towel, and dried them with calm, deliberate movements.
Then, he dropped the towel into the bin, turned, and walked out without a single glance in our direction.
The door closed shut.
"What the hell was that?" Jax panted, sliding out of me in a flash and pulling his pants up. He was shaking. "He saw us. He definitely saw us."
I was already feeling empty from his cock pulling out. "Yeah, I know, but he didn't act like it," I defended, moving vkosere
"I'm getting out of here," Jax said, wiping sweat from his forehead. "That was too close, Mia."
"At least let's finish up!" I yelled after his bolting figure. "Fuck! I was so close to my O!"
But he was gone. This was one of the reasons why I hated these school guys—always running off, always unable to give proper satisfaction. All muscles and no stamina.
But then, who the hell was that man? The question sat heavy in my chest. My clit was still pulsing, throbbing from unsatisfied pleasure. I debated between giving myself a hand and going to look for someone else, to fuck me till I cum. but it was too late already.
The bell rang. Fifth class started in five minutes.
Ten minutes later, I was sitting in the back of the lecture hall. It was my favorite position to sit because it allowed me to do what I wanted, whenever I wanted.
The Dean stood at the front of the class, looking excited.
"Students," the Dean announced. "We are very lucky today. The man who is about to speak is a world-renowned expert in human behavior. He has advised kings and presidents. Please welcome our new visiting professor, Professor Kelvin."
My heart stopped.
It was him. The man from the bathroom.
He walked to the front of the class, but he wasn't in that suit anymore. He had it hung over his arm, his white shirt sleeves rolled up to show those strong, veiny arms. He looked even more intimidating under the bright lights of the hall.
"I am Kelvin," he said. His deep, smooth baritone made my body vibrate, sending jolts of electricity to my pussy. "I’ll be your Human Behavior lecturer from now on."
His eyes scanned the crowd. His gaze moved across the rows until it landed directly on me.
Most people would look away in shame after what happened in the bathroom. But not me. Not Mia Gonzales. I stared back.
He held my gaze for three long seconds. His expression didn't change, but I saw his eyes darken. He knew exactly who I was. And he knew I was the same person from ten minutes ago who was being fucked in the bathroom.
A few minutes later, he started his lecture, talking about the "hidden impulses of the human mind." Occasionally my eyes met his, and he diverted them.
Inwardly, the whore in me was making plans. I wanted to know what it would take to make that calm, cold face finally break. What would it feel like when that cold, calm man had his dick buried inside of me?
I wanted to see that face drenched in pleasure—pleasure that came from me.
The fourth night arrived, and the air in the bedroom felt thick enough to choke on. I lay there, my skin humming with a nervous, electric energy. Every time the floorboards groaned, my heart skipped a beat. I was waiting for him. I was addicted to the fear and the heat of it. Then, I heard his mattress creak. The sound of his footsteps was like a drumbeat in the dark. He didn't hesitate. He came straight to my side and sat down, his heavy heat radiating through my thin blanket. "Hello beautiful, I can't get enough of you, Amy," he whispered, his voice a deep, gravelly rasp that sent a shiver straight to my core. "I tried to stay in my bed. I really did. I swear. But you're like a drug. You're so addicting, just lying here like a silent little prize. I need to feel you." I kept my eyes squeezed shut, my breathing shallow. I felt his large, warm hands reach under the covers. He found the waistband of my panties and began to slide them down. He moved with agonizing slowness, the fabri
The third night arrived with a heavy, suffocating heat. I lay there, my skin sensitized and my mind a mess of dark thoughts. I wasn't even pretending to try to sleep anymore. I was just waiting for the sound of his feet on the floor. My heart was a hammer in my chest, and every time the house creaked, I felt a jolt of electricity go straight to my gut. Then, I heard it. The slow, rhythmic rustle of his blankets. He was coming. Elias didn't waste time with whispers tonight. He walked over and sat on the edge of my bed, his weight making the mattress tilt. I kept my eyes shut, my breathing shallow and practiced. I felt his hands reach for me, grabbing the hem of my pajama top and pulling it all the way up until I was half bare from the waist up. The cool air hit my skin, but it was quickly replaced by the furnace-like heat of his body. "You're waiting for me, aren't you, Amy?" he murmured, his voice a low, gravelly vibration. "Even in your sleep, you look like you’re begging for it.
The second night felt different. The air in the room was charged with a heavy, electric silence that seemed to press against my skin. I lay in my bed, my body stiff, listening to the clock on the wall. Every tick sounded like a heartbeat. I wasn’t trying to sleep tonight. I was waiting. I was waiting for the rustle of the sheets, for the shadow to move, for the pervert I let into my house to come back for more and finish what he started.When I finally heard it—the soft, predatory slide of his feet on the carpet—my stomach did a somersault. I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing my muscles to go limp. I had to look like a statue. I had to look like a woman who was dead to the world, even as my blood began to boil with anticipation.He moved with a terrifying confidence that told me he knew exactly how much he could get away with. I felt the mattress dip as he sat on the edge of my bed. He didn't start with my hand this time. I felt his fingers reach for the hem of my thin nightshirt, slidin
I was drowning in bills. My landlord had given me exactly seven days to come up with the full rent for my one-bedroom apartment or I’d be sleeping on the sidewalk. I had no choice. I put out an ad for a roommate to share the tiny space. But then there was a huge problem.Every single person who applied was a man.Yes. I had to live with a man.But… with time running out, I finally picked one. His name was Elias.When he showed up at the door, my heart stopped for a second. He was fine—too fine. He had sharp features and a body that looked like it belonged on a billboard. I wondered why someone who looked like that was looking for a cheap room to share, but then again, handsomeness doesn't amount to richness. He must have been desperate like me.I showed him around the small space. We spent the afternoon moving furniture, pushing my bed to one side to make room for his mattress. I gave him the rules: no loud music, clean up after yourself, respect my space. He just nodded, smiling a bi
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I woke up in the pitch black. The house was silent, but something felt wrong. The air in my room felt heavy, and there was a warmth beside me that hadn't been there when I fell asleep. I stayed perfectly still, my heart thudding against my ribs, until I felt a hand.It was large and warm, sliding slowly up my thigh. My breath hitched."James?" I whispered, my voice cracked and thick with sleep."I told you to dream about it, didn't I?" His voice came out of the dark, a low, rough rumble right next to my ear."How... how did you get in here?" I asked, trying to sit up, but his arm draped over my waist, pinning me down. "I locked the door. I know I locked it.""Your brother has a spare key in the kitchen junk drawer, Amy. You really should be more careful." I felt his smirk against my neck even if I couldn't see it. His hand didn't stop moving; it slid higher, the silk of my nightgown bunching up until his fingers met my bare skin. "But you’re not actually mad that I’m here, are you?""
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