by Autumn Avery
I’ll have to hold back from this position or else I’ll split her in two. But I’ll start slow and take long deep strokes, massaging her ass with both hands as I fuck her. Maybe I’ll lick my thumb and play with her asshole, just to show her that I know what the fuck I’m doing and have much, much more in store for her pretty little ass.
Fuck, I’m going to cum!
I feel my cock twitch again and grab my balls with my free hand. They’re full of cum and ready to burst. My shaft is coated in my slick precum and I’m right on the edge. As I picture my dick sliding in and out of Grace’s ass, and her face against the sheets, writhing in pleasure, it happens.
I cum. Hard.
A huge shot of cum spurts out of my cock and lands on my lower stomach. More pumps out right behind it, some spilling out onto my hand, giving me more lube to work with. My hips buck forward as I picture myself spraying my load into Grace’s pussy, and I cum like I’ve just fucked for an hour.
“Shit!” I grunt, clenching my teeth as the last twitch from my cock pumps the rest of my cum out and onto my hand. I look down at the enormous load I just blew and take a huge breath.
If only I’d dropped that on Grace’s tits instead of my stomach. Fuck – I need a shower.
7
Grace
Grace
* * *
Thank God it’s finally time for classes, I think as I walk across campus. Sociology 101. That’s where I’m headed. A breeze blows my hair into my face and I brush it away. No one told me how windy this campus is! My dorm is on a bit of a hill and the wind is up like there’s a tornado on the way or something.
After a twenty-minute trek across campus, I manage to make it to the sociology building, a big brick monstrosity that looks like it was built fifty years ago and never renovated.
The door sticks as I pull it open, and then gets caught by the wind and flies open so fast it almost knocks me over.
“Watch it!” Someone behind me grumbles as I filter in with the rest of the students.
Sociology 101, a sign reads with an arrow pointing to the right. The building smells musty with a hint of sawdust or old wood or something. It’s also humid. The air is thick like no one’s left a window open in ten years.
My feet squeak with every step on the tiled floor that looks like it’s been freshly waxed – probably the only thing in this building that has had any attention at all.
I follow the rest of the herd to an open set of maroon double doors that filter into the biggest classroom I’ve ever seen. Well – not a classroom. It’s a lecture hall, and it’s bigger than the movie theater back in my hometown. To be honest, I’m feeling a little intimidated.
Where do I sit?
There are some seats free in the front row, but the rest of the hall is filling up pretty quickly. I’ve heard through the grapevine that this class isn’t particularly difficult and the teacher is pretty chill, so I imagine it’s going to be a pretty full house.
I decide to grab a seat a few rows down in the middle. Who knows how these college classes are, and I don’t think I’m ready to put myself front and center right up in front of the professor.
I pull out my book, a used copy I managed to get, and my notebook and pen and instantly feel much more at ease. Class is where I feel most comfortable. Class, the library, or at home in my room with a book and some homework. Even if sociology ends up being awful, which I doubt, at least I won’t have Tommy Mason on my mind the entire time.
“Is this seat taken?” I hear a male voice beside me. Quickly, I grab my bag from the floor beside me and stuff it between my feet to make room.
“No, go right ahead—” I start to say, but when I turn to see the person now seated beside me, I almost die.
Tommy Mason.
“Yo,” he says with his trademark grin. “Same class! Imagine that.”
My mouth hangs open. I try to speak, but even if I could, I have no idea what to say. Class is where I was supposed to be able to escape – get my mind off Tommy and back on school where it belongs. And now here he is, sitting right beside me!
He’s so close I can smell him. And his scent is intoxicating. Whatever shampoo or soap he was using in the bathroom is there again, but this time there’s a hint of his natural smell underneath. The rest of the class melts away as I breathe it in and feel my primal side emerging.
What is this power he has over me?
I know I must look like an idiot, just staring back at him like I’ve been hit over the head with a brick, and a wave of self-consciousness hits me in the face like a bucket of ice water. I finally manage to stammer out, “Wh-what are you doing here!?”
“What, you think you’re the only one who goes to class here?” He chuckles, leans back in his chair like he’s the king of the world and it’s his throne. And I don’t think that’s far from the truth.
“No!” I blurt back. “I just – isn’t this a freshman class?”
“Eh,” he shrugs. “I didn’t take it last year, and I heard it was easy. So here I am.”
Here I am, he says. Yeah, like it’s that simple!
I feel my body reacting uncontrollably to his presence. My heart rate’s up, I’m flushed, probably blushing, and I’m sweating. My eyes move across his chiseled jaw and down his neckline to his shoulders. How is it possible for a man to be that in shape? His muscles looked like they were crafted by God and then placed on him perfectly.
“Grace,” he whispers in a voice that sends a shiver up my spine. “That’s your name, right?”
“Yes,” I whisper back, entranced by his eyes. “I—”
But I don’t get a chance to finish my thought. A door at the head of the class opens and the professor walks in.
“Good morning, everyone. I am Professor Gengris. You can call me Professor Gengris.”
Professor Gengris is a tall woman with broad shoulders, graying hair and glasses, and walks like she’s the Queen of Sparta. You can hear the entire class shift in their seats and quiet down.
“Two words of advice for surviving this class,” she goes on, addressing us with both hands on her hips. “If you don’t read the syllabus, you’ll most likely fail. And if you don’t do your reading – you’re fucked.”
Whoa!
One-half of the class gasps and the other laughs nervously. My teachers back in high school would never swear around us, and the first thing out of Professor Gengris’s mouth is the f-bomb? I guess college really is different.
“Now, first things first,” she says. “We’re going to be doing a semester long research project in groups of two. So look around, introduce yourself to someone and—”
“We’ll be partners!” Tommy blurts out from beside me, raising his hand into the air. I whip my head to stare at him but he’s not even looking at me.
“Ah, Mr. Mason,” Professor Gengris says with a knowing smile. “Found yourself a hostage, have you?”
“Ah, come on, professor,” Tommy chuckles. “You know everyone wants to be with me.”
The rest of the class laughs. I guess Tommy really is a star here.
“All right, Mr. Mason. What’s your partner’s name?”
“Grace,” he replies, not giving me a chance to answer. Professor Gengris looks down at her computer.
“Grace Kennedy?” She asks, looking up at me. I’m in such shock all I can do is nod.
Why aren’t I protesting!? I am screaming at myself inside. But what am I supposed to do? I’m shy and don’t want to start making a fuss on the first day of class, before I’ve even really met the professor. And what is everyone else going to think if I start saying I don’t want to be partnered up with Tommy Mason?
With my luck, I’ll end up being that weird girl that wanted another partner instead of the basketball stud on his way to the pros. Not to mention I’m still in utter shock at Tommy’s bold move.
It’s pretty clear at this point that what Tommy wants, Tommy gets.
8
Tommy
Tomm
y
* * *
Man, that was priceless!
The look on Grace’s face when I signed us up to be partners – man, I wish I’d had a camera ready. The look she gave me when she saw me sit down beside her was great too, but it was nothing compared to that.
The rest of class was awkward, to say the least. She tried her best not to acknowledge me or talk to me, but she didn’t do a great job. I caught her checking out my bicep when I lifted up my sleeve to scratch my shoulder. As soon as our eyes met she looked back down at her notebook.
“Aren’t you going to take notes?” She muttered to me at one point.
“I’ll copy yours later,” I told her. I knew that would piss her off.
“If you think I’m doing all of the work on this project—” She started to yell at me under her breath. But she stopped herself when she saw me smiling at her.
I did my fair share of checking her out too. She definitely doesn’t know how to dress sexy, and to an untrained eye you’d think she didn’t have much going on under there. But I know better. I know how to spot ‘em.
She had black yoga pants on and a pair of ugly slipper style boots. But hey, I’m not a foot fetish kind of guy so who gives a shit? Up top she had a gray tank top covered with a cardigan, and with one glance, I could see – she’s got a killer rack under there.
Most guys don’t take the time to check out a girl’s tits if she’s got a sweater or a coat on or something. But if you take an extra second to really give her a onceover, you might find yourself a hidden gem. And that’s what Grace is; a diamond, rough, just waiting for some polish. And I’m just the man to do it.
I spent most of class trying to get an eye down her shirt as she took notes or bent down to get something out of her bag. But she was on to me. At one point she gave me a stare that meant death and pulled her cardigan tight across her chest. All I could do was smile.
But when class let out, and she stood up and turned away from me, I got the money shot.
What a fucking ass!
Whoever invented yoga pants and convinced girls to wear them is a fucking genius. It must have been a guy. But either way, Grace has a butt that could send men to war.
She’s got the kind of hips that just taunt you, just daring you to spread them open and get between her legs, and an ass that’s got some real umph to it and all I’ve been able to think about for the entire walk back to the dorm is how it would look from behind and how badly I want to spank it.
Grace got out of there the second Professor Gengris dismissed us. And I know why. She wanted to avoid having to walk across campus with me. I don’t know if she thinks she’s fooling me or fooling herself trying to act like she doesn’t totally want me, but it’s not fooling anyone.
Okay, she’s a virgin. She’s shy. She doesn’t know how to act around guys. But if she thinks I don’t know she’s interested in me, well, then she’s just insane.
As I was coming out of the building, she was already halfway across the quad heading toward the co-op. By the time my dorm was in sight, she was already inside. I wonder what she’s telling her roommate about what happened. I smile to myself as I picture that conversation and pull open the outside door to the dorm.
I’m on the verge of cracking up the entire way up the three flights of stairs to my floor, and I half expect to find her standing in the hallway ready to chew me out. But I don’t. Her door is shut and I decide not to knock. I’ll let her stew in this for a while. That will make things so much sweeter. There’s no way she’s getting out of being my research partner and I want her to realize that.
I push open my door and find Joey laying on his back, a stupid look on his face. And I already know why.
“Closed the deal, huh?” I ask him.
“Dude,” Joey says as though he’s about to hit me with some serious shit. “Those tits…”
“So Cindy let you get a slice, huh?” I tease him.
“Dude, a slice!?” He exclaims, rocketing up into a seated position. “You don’t even know. She told me she wanted to show me her new tits! She took me into the bathroom and just whipped them out!”
“Wild,” I chuckle, shaking my head as I set my bag down and take a seat.
“Six hundred CCs, dude. You have any idea how big that is?”
“No clue,” I admit.
“Okay,” Joey says, leaning forward, his hands clasped. “Four, 450 is like a double D on any normal chick. She has six-fucking-hundred!”
“So they’re big?”
“Monsters!” Joey cackles, collapsing back onto his bed. “Say, what happened to you? Everyone was saying you just left or something?”
“Yeah, I wasn’t feeling it,” I say, telling a bit of a half truth as I stretch, feeling the knot in my back that’s been annoying me since pre-season.
“What, are you going soft on me, buddy? The year hasn’t even started yet!”
I have to laugh. Joey is the most determined partier I’ve ever met. The guy basically has the three Bs on his mind: booze, broads and basketball – and boobs. Okay, the four Bs.
“Nah, I dunno I just –” Should I tell him? He’ll definitely think I’m going soft if I tell him I was pining away for some virgin freshman that doesn’t even know who I am…
Ah, fuck it. He’s going to find out sooner or later.
“It’s this girl, man—”
“Gahhhh!” Before I can even finish, Joey’s groaning. I knew he’d react like this. “Dude, it’s opening weekend! And you’ve got ‘a girl?’ What are you talking about?”
“I know, I know, I know,” I say with a deep sigh. I mean – he’s right. “But I’m not off the market yet. I just…I have to land this chick!”
“So what’s the problem? You’re Tommy Mason…”
“She doesn’t know who I am!”
“Say what!?” Joey can’t believe it.
“She knows now,” I explain. “But there’s another thing. She’s a virgin.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Joey says. “Pump your brakes.”
Eyes wide, Joey actually gets out of bed and stands right in front of me. He’s looking at me like a visitor at the zoo looks at a poisonous snake they’ve never seen, or some sort of rare breed of dog that they’re not sure how it’s going to behave.
“A virgin!?”
“Yeah, man,” I say. “And I know what you’re going to say. But you should see this girl—”
“I don’t care if she looks like fucking Kate Upton! What the Hell are you thinking?”
“Dude, she lives right down the hall—”
“What!?” Joey clasps his head like it’s about to roll off his shoulders. I have to stop myself from laughing. “This just gets worse and worse!”
“Skip me the lecture, man. I just got back from class.”
Joey starts to speak – but stops and sits down on his bed. He looks at me, thinks, frowns, then sighs.
“This must be some chick,” he finally says, giving in slightly.
“She is, man,” I think, smiling to myself. “And she’s gonna be mine.”
9
Grace
Grace
* * *
Partners, I think. I can’t believe it.
“You should e-mail your professor,” Shannon tells me, pacing the tiny amount of floor in the center of our room. I told her the whole thing. How Tommy sat down next to me, volunteered us as a team and spent the rest of class trying to look down my shirt. She was furious, but I’m not really sure if I’m mad or not.
Sure, he’s presumptuous, cocky, domineering and unapologetically arrogant. But…when I think about his eyes going over my body as I tried to take notes, I find myself smiling.
Tommy is the biggest guy on campus – and not only by reputation I’m sure.
And he’s got his eyes on me. Me! Grace Kennedy, the shy, blushing virgin from smalltown Connecticut. Who wouldn’t be flattered?
“I don’t know,” I tell Shannon. “Do I really want to be that girl on the fir
st day of class? The one complaining about her partner being the hottest guy on campus?”
“Hottest guy on campus!” Shannon mutters to herself. “Look, I’m just trying to look out for you! I don’t want to see you getting hurt.”
“I know! And I appreciate that. You’re being so sweet.” And I mean that. I’m so happy to have ended up with a wonderful roommate like Shannon who I actually get along with and who cares about me.
“I mean – I get it. You’re flattered. I would be too! But how do you really expect this to work out?”
Shannon pulls her chair up beside me and takes a seat. Her face twists up like she’s trying to remember how to balance a chemical equation.
“Like…Tommy Mason, famous player and basketball star, sets his sights on you, Grace, the freshman virgin.” I cringe slightly at her summary of the situation. “He decides to what – give up his playboy ways, date you, take your virginity and stick with you? Marry you before he goes pro and starts fucking every model and actress in the country?”
Wow, way to just crush my soul, Shannon!
“I mean, when you put it that way…” My voice trails off as I think about what she said. It does sound ridiculous. Tommy barely knows me. Why would be care so much about me to give up on all the hordes of screaming fan girls ready to rip their tops off and pull their skirts up at the sight of him?
Maybe he likes a challenge?
But is that all I want to be to him? A challenge? That’s not sustainable. Once the thrill of trying to get in my pants wears off, he’ll be back to his old ways. That’s assuming he even sticks around long enough to convince me he’s a good guy.
It’s bugging me that I’m even thinking about this. For some reason I feel like it shouldn’t even be a thought in my mind. Tommy’s reputation alone should send me running for the hills. But there’s something very attractive, on a purely primal level, about a guy who has as much experience as he does.