by Leyla Hunt
“Yup,” he squeaked rather than spoke.
I let him go, and he jumped off the chair. “That’s quite a grip you’ve got there, Marc.”
“Sorry,” I mumbled, my eyes on the floor as heat crept over my cheeks and chest. “Thought you were going to topple over.”
Apart from the ticking of the digital clock reminding us time was running out, there was a palpable silence in the room. “I got it.” He waved a piece of paper in my face, and his cologne, which was something spicy, wafted over me.
Suddenly, I wasn’t interested in the challenges we faced in order to beat the clock, and as I took the clue from his hand, my fingers brushed against his palm. Our gaze locked on one another, and as I stared into his deep brown eyes my breathing sped up, and I tossed the paper on the floor.
Steve gulped, and I paused. What in the hell am I doing? I was going to kiss a stranger. And I was sharing a locked room with him. Someone I’d met minutes before. He could be a serial killer. “I…,” I croaked. I didn’t have a lot of experience with relationships and certainly not with hooking up. Is that what this is? I was wavering.
“You were saying?” Steve had almost lost interest in the clue, and he moved closer to me. His breath on my face. Minty. He’d brushed his teeth before he came.
“Good hygiene is important.”
“Sorry, what?”
Shit, I’d said that out loud. “D-Don’t mind m-me,” I stuttered.
“But I do. Mind you.” He grinned. I’d describe it as wicked. And then he pursed his lips. Oh God, I so wanted to kiss that luscious pink mouth. Was he doing that on purpose to taunt me?
“What’s going on in that head of yours, Marc?”
One head was wobbling from side to side. The other in my pants was trying to get out of its own escape room. “Just that...” I had to ask permission. Alphas in movies often slammed their mouth on omegas without asking. But that wasn’t me. Gathering up my courage, I blurted out, “I wanted to kiss you.” Now came the part where Steve yelled to be let out of the room, grabbed his stuff, and ran off yelling, “Fucking creep!”
“I’d like that too.”
“You would?” I couldn’t believe he’d said that.
“Don’t sound so surprised.”
I removed my glasses and placed a hand on his lower back, but he didn’t wait for me to pull him closer. He pressed his hips against mine. The hard ridge in his pants dug into me. My dick, which was struggling to get out, swelled, and Steve raised a brow.
Now what? I’d never been in this position. But once again, Steve saved me and took the lead. He curled a hand around my neck and pulled my head closer to his until my mouth was an inch from his lips. That was an open invitation and even I couldn’t mistake the signals he was sending.
It was a soft kiss which didn’t reflect the frenzy that was growing inside me. I nibbled at his lower lip as Steve ground his hips against mine. I moaned and my lips parted, and Steve’s tongue invaded my mouth. A fleeting thought raced through my mind, he’d done this before, but as his tongue flicked mine, as if he were daring me to a duel, I lost myself in the sensations that were flooding my body.
Grunting and gasping accompanied our kiss, and as it deepened, I wanted more of this man. We pulled apart. The skin around Steve’s skin was smudged with scarlet splotches, and I was worried I’d hurt him, but he panted, “You are a great freaking kisser, Marc.”
My confidence soared, and I curled a finger in his belt loop and pulled him against me once more. Placing my mouth on his ear, I stuck my tongue in the hollow, and he shivered. I nibbled the soft part of his ear as he mumbled, “I want you.”
I froze. More? He wants more? But before I could respond, Steve undid his jeans and took my hand. I allowed my fingers to be placed inside his briefs. Warm soft flesh. A patch of thick, wiry hair. And his cock. Hard and throbbing under my fingers.
I pulled his pants over his hips, and his dick sprang free. Oh God! We’re really doing this. I fell to my knees so I was level with his length. My fingers slid over the shaft to the base, and Steve pushed his hips forward until the tip stroked my cheek.
His musky aroma filled my nostrils and spurred me forward as I stuck out my tongue and licked the head. Pre-cum on the tip coated my tongue. Steve planted a hand behind my head and pulled me closer as I kissed down one side of the shaft and along the other.
“That is so good,” he gushed.
Four
Steve
The alpha I’d met less than an hour ago was on his knees, his tongue sliding over my cock. And it was so freaking good. I leaned my ass on the table ‘cause I didn’t think my legs would support me. Despite Marc being kinda shy, his tongue was masterful, both in my mouth and on my dick.
One hand crept to my balls and cradled them as I moaned and raked my nails through his hair. After lapping at the head of my length, his lips swallowed me, while his tongue continued to lick and flick. Give this man a medal!
I pushed forward wanting more of his mouth on me and gently pumped my hips, fearing if I shoved my dick too far down his throat, he’d choke. Don’t deep-throat the guy, Steve.
Marc’s hand left my balls and crept over my ass, pinching and squeezing. Pain. His mouth performed amazing tricks on my cock. Pleasure.
His fingers trailed down my ass crack and he grunted with what sounded like frustration, but it sent a tingling sensation from my cock to the rest of my body. I didn’t know him well enough to understand what he intended with that grunt, but he pulled me away from the table, and his fingers crept to my hole.
With my thoughts consumed by the man at my feet giving me a blow job, I was barely aware of the slick coating my butt. Marc’s hand slapped my ass making me squeal, and when he brought his fingers over my hip, a trail of shimming slick blanketed my skin. His fingers were coated in it, and he dragged them from my hip to my thigh.
On a whim, I grabbed his hand and brought it to my lips. He glanced up, his mouth full of dick. With our eyes on one another, I stuck a finger in my mouth and mimicked his action of licking down one side and up the other. His lips trembled as he pressed them on my length. Harder. And I did the same.
But as I pulled out one finger with a pop, I shoved in two more. Ha! Gotcha there. He grinned and scraped his teeth over my shaft, making me forget what I was doing. My knees trembled as his mouth sped up. Sucking hard, using his tongue and teeth. And then he moved his hand to the base and tugged as his mouth worked its magic.
My eyes glazed over and my tongue lolled over my lips. Saliva pooled in the corner of my mouth as he pumped, sucked, and licked.
“M-M-M…” My brain couldn’t focus on his name. Was it Mike, or Marco, or Michael? It didn’t matter, only that his mouth and hand were bringing me close to orgasm. My body was on fire with flames licking at my skin, my insides and head in a frenzy as I clutched at his hair, groaned and thrust my hips forward. One final pump of his hand and I exploded in his mouth.
“Oh my God, yes,” I screamed as I emptied my load. His lips stayed on my length, pressing gently before releasing the pressure and his grip. I whimpered at the loss of him, and when I glanced down he was swallowing. Wow!
He stood up, wiping his mouth with his hand, a huge grin on his face. “That was amazing.”
“I agree,” I warbled as my shaking fingers attempted to pull up my underwear and jeans.
He smacked his lips and said, “We still have time.”
“For another blow job?” I wasn’t up to it. Oh, he probably wanted me to get him off.
“No. On the timer.”
Holy shit! I’d just had a stranger suck me off in an escape room. “I think we’ll have to forfeit and admit we can’t finish.”
Marc smirked and whispered, “I’m glad you finished.”
“Me too.” I elbowed him, suddenly overcome with shyness, which wasn’t like me. “We probably should get out of here.”
There was a sudden clearing of a throat. “Hey, guys, everything okay in there? I hear
d some very weird noises, and I was about to come in but then one of you shouted, ‘That’s it. Right there,’ and I knew you were making headway. Well done.”
I caught Marc’s eye and we burst out laughing. “Yeah, we’re all good in here, Kenny, but we took a little detour and we’re probably not going to finish on time.” Marc emphasized the word finish.
Poor Kenny. Thank God there were no cameras installed.
“That’s a shame,” said Kenny’s tinny voice. “Maybe another time.”
“Let’s hope so,” Marc agreed.
Kenny let us out and we thanked him and collected our things. Outside, we stood awkwardly as I pointed to my bicycle, and Marc said, “This is me” and leaned on a gray car as he pushed his glasses up.
“Well, I’d better get going.” I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to say, and I assumed he didn’t either. “Bye.” Without a backward glance, I pedaled away and headed toward campus. I had planned on having dinner with my friends, but as they had a flat and there were no messages on my phone, I decided to head to the library. Its dark cavernous ceiling and carpeted floor would be the perfect place to unpack what had happened and hopefully do some studying.
But as I chose a cubicle and opened my computer, a poster on the far wall caught my eye. Something about it was familiar. I got up and wandered over. It was advertising a talk by an author tomorrow evening in one of the lecture halls. The author was a college professor from the English Department. In the middle of the poster was a smiling face, one that I’d seen earlier. The same one who’d wrapped his mouth around my cock.
And while I was an older undergraduate student, well into adulthood at 25, it was frowned on if a member of staff and a student had a relationship. Not that he was my professor so probably no one cared. But didn’t have one, though. A blow job was not a relationship.
Five
Marc
My hands trembled as they grasped the paper containing my speech. This is crazy. I’d delivered countless lectures over the years, and yet here I was readying myself for a talk about my new book and I was nervous as a kid headed to kindergarten on the first day of school.
But my head was back in the escape room. Steve’s swollen cock poking out of his underwear. Me licking it. Him coming in my mouth. Me taking everything he had to give and swallowing.
The memory was ruined by the aftermath of me putting my weight on one foot and then the other as we gathered our things and he sped off on his bicycle. I cursed myself for not speaking up and saying something. Anything at all.
I’d watched him cycle away until he turned a corner and I lost sight of him. As I got in my car, I was tempted to follow, but I dawdled, and as I sat with my hands on the steering wheel, a thought hit me. Having given him a blow job did not give me permission to stalk the guy.
I blinked as I stood just outside the lecture hall, and I bounced on my heels. After opening the rear door a crack, I gathered the hall was almost full which was amazing.
Being a professor at a small-town college many people outside of academics and prospective and past students had never heard of, having this much interest in my book was mind-blowing. Wrong word as it took me back to Steve coming.
My publisher had set up a table outside the entrance with hard copies of the book. If only a few of the people who’d come to hear me talk were planning on buying the book, I’d be over the moon. But with an extensive library, both digital and physical—thanks to a generous endowment—I suspected most of them were students and would be borrowing the book.
There were a few faces I recognized, some of my first-year students and one or two staff. A general hum of people chatting to their neighbor and greeting friends while shuffling along rows and getting seated filled the hall. “Ready, Professor Shuster?” a voice at my back asked. It was Frank, the guy who dealt with the lighting and audio systems at the college.
I gave him a thumbs up and Frank dimmed the lights, and a bright light aimed at the lectern where I’d be speaking honed in on a spot on the floor. The murmurs died away, and taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm my nerves, I walked out.
This is a piece of cake, Marc. You’ve got this.
Arthur had sent his apologies saying he’d be late as he had to proctor an exam for a colleague who’d been taken ill.
“Good evening, and thank you for coming.”
An image of my hardcover book flashed onto the screen behind me. I’d thought it a bit much. But my publisher overrode my concerns.
I gripped the lectern and began. I’d lived, sweated, and loved my novel for two years, and this was my comfort zone. After twenty minutes of me talking, the lights brightened, and I opened the floor up to questions. We had a lively discussion, and I was pleasantly surprised how engaged the audience was.
“We have time for one last question.” Multiple hands went up, and I skimmed over men and women who were eager to speak. And that was when I saw him. Last row, on the left. “I… ummm… ahhh…”
My mouth was suddenly dry, and to bide for time, I sipped the water Frank had thoughtfully left for me. Was Steve here to embarrass me? I chewed my lower lip as the seconds ticked by.
“Professor?” a woman in the front row asked. “You okay?”
“Y-Y-Yes,” I stuttered. “Too much talking on my part.” I nodded at her. ‘You have a question?”
It was a softball one which I answered easily while avoiding glancing at Steve. After thanking everyone, people gathered around and asked me to sign their books which had me chatting about everything and nothing.
The crowd dwindled, and after signing the last one, I glared up at a figure leaning against the wall. Shit, it’s him. Something that hadn’t occurred to me wormed its way into my head. Was he a student? But not one of mine. Definitely not.
But if I had to guess, he was in his late 20s. So, not an undergraduate, though he might be a mature student. In the world we lived in, many kids couldn’t attend college straight after school and had to work and save money before going to university.
I gulped as he took a step toward me. Frank barged out and asked, “All done, Professor Shuster? Great talk, by the way.” He glanced at Steve. “My apologies, I thought everyone had left.”
“It’s okay.” I gathered my notes and addressed Steve. “Hello.”
“Hi.”
“Did you need me to sign my book?” I enquired.
He shook his head. “Sorry, I didn’t buy a copy.”
“No problem. I hope you enjoyed the discussion.” I headed up the center aisle and paused. Again, jumbled words and thoughts filled my head but they tied my tongue in knots. “Coming?” I asked. Bad choice of words, and I nibbled a nail as I headed toward the entrance, Steve keeping pace at my side.
“I’d love to. Again.”
I froze, and papers drifted from my trembling hands. Glancing over my shoulder, I noted Frank who was the only other person in the lecture hall. He was packing up equipment and not paying us any attention.
“But I don’t want to be greedy. It’s your turn.”
“That… that would be… agreeable.” Fuck! Someone says they want to make me orgasm, and I answer agreeable.
“Is your office near here?”
“Other side of the quad,” I replied.
“Well, if it’s agreeable,” and he emphasized the last word, “perhaps we should go there.”
“That’s… yes, that’s fine.” I hadn’t been planning on going back to the office tonight but…
“Marc? Sorry I missed it. Did it go okay?”
Fuck, Arthur. Not now. “It went great,” I told him. “Talk tomorrow. Got urgent business to attend to.”
Steve sniggered while Arthur gave me a weird look as I hurried past.
Six
Steve
I’d never been much of an athlete, but I raced across the quad at Marc’s side and followed him into an older building, one of the college’s first, built a century ago
A bank of ancient elevators lay ahead of
us, but Marc turned to the right and yelled, “Stairs.”
By the time we reached the third floor, both of us were panting, his face scarlet with exertion. I was hard, my cock was straining at my jeans. Putting a hand to my cheek, I guessed my face was as red as Marc’s.
He fumbled at a door with a nameplate that read, Professor Marc Shuster. After reading the poster yesterday, I knew who he was, but seeing it spelled out on the door made it real. He was on staff and I was a student. But he wasn’t my professor so I doubted the powers that be would care—or know.
“Hurry,” I begged as his trembling fingers dropped the keys. I picked them up, but my hands were no less shaky than his.
My hand found his ass, and he groaned, “If you want me to unlock this door, you’ll have to stop doing that, or we’ll never make it inside.”
The corridor was deserted, and I considered the possibility of dropping to my knees, but decided getting our gear off behind locked doors was preferable. When Marc finally got the door open, we fell into his office. His briefcase slammed on the floor. The room was in complete darkness apart from a stream of bright light shining in from the quad.
There was a distinctive click of a lock being engaged, movement as he walked away from me, the swish of curtains being pulled, and then a lamp was switched on. My eyes darted around the room that contained a large desk piled high with reams of paper, bookcases groaning under large tomes, a fireplace at the other end, and a couch, along with two overstuffed armchairs. And one large knotted rug laid out between both chairs.
Now we were in his domain, his expression changed. This was his lair, and it was where he was most comfortable. Though his hands were still quivering, he rubbed both palms on his chinos and my gaze locked onto his crotch. He was aroused and very much so based on the ridge in his pants.