1 comments/ 48651 views/ 2 favorites The Next One By: ellasans Laura sauntered slowly towards the ladies' room, taking stock of the men around the hotel. Some were employees, others guests; all were possible playthings. None particularly got the 30-year-old's heart racing; one man even made her nervous by staring at her as she passed him in the hall. She determined that if the bartender were still at his post after she had touched up in the bathroom, she would take him on. Tossing her dirty blonde hair over one shoulder, Laura pushed into the room and stopped dead in her tracks. She'd found her toy for the evening. The woman was sitting on the counter of the restroom between two sinks. She wore a simple maid's uniform, the skirt of which was hiked up to her stomach, revealing a garter belt attached to stockings, and no panties. Her pussy lay bare, but it was her ass that had a trail of some man's cum spilling out of it. Laura looked up to her face. The woman's eyes were closed, but her face was relaxed and she was smiling, her short, dark, reddish hair all mussed up against the mirror behind the sinks. It wasn't as improbable a sight in a hotel bathroom as one might think, especially at the hooker hotel- a uniquely sexy place to stay, and Laura's favorite. "My dear," Laura said, crossing her arms. "We really need to get you cleaned up." The maid had started at the sound of Laura's voice, but relaxed quickly, even despite Laura's intentionally imposing stance. "Yes ma'am," the maid said in a shy voice. She looked perhaps 19 or 20 years old, Laura noted, but her voice sounded somewhat younger. The older woman smiled frostily and stepped to the bathroom door, which she locked. "Let's get those clothes off." The maid obediently stood and unbuttoned her uniform, revealing that the garter belt and nylons were all that she was wearing aside from a pair of barely-high heels. She let the uniform slip to the floor. "No," Laura commanded, almost as though talking to a dog. She stepped forward and swatted the girl's rear firmly, but not painfully. "Pick that up." "Yes ma'am." The maid bent over and grabbed her uniform, flushing a little in the cheeks...all of them. "Good girl," Laura said. "Now the stockings and whatnot." The young woman removed her stockings, high heels, and garter belt, holding them with her uniform. "Fold them and set them next to the sink." She did. Laura grasped the woman's wrist and marched her to the back of the restroom, which offered a shower. She turned it on, let the temperature get warm, and gestured for the younger woman to step in, which she did. The blonde then turned to her own clothing, stepping out of her high heels and removing first her suit jacket, folding it, and setting it down on a bench next to the shower. Next came her white button-down blouse—silk –and her pencil skirt and thin nylons. Each item was impeccably folded and set on top of the last, including Laura's green lacy panties. The matching bra was set on top of the stack like a cake with a cherry on top. Laura stepped into the shower behind the young woman, who was standing where Laura had left her, like a good submissive. "Let's get you cleaned up, Laura said, reaching around the girl to take the removable shower head. She started with the girls hair, which must have been recently dyed—just a touch of pinkish-red flowed from it along with the shower water. Once her hair was thoroughly soaked, Laura guided her to turn around by the shoulder and began spraying her neck, arms, hands, and breasts...Laura allowed herself a momentary distraction to fondle one as she washed, playing with the nipple and smiling as it grew firm and solid under her ministrations. The maid moaned and Laura gently smacked her cheek. "Shhh," she said. Laura made her way down the girls legs and back up, turning her around again and positioning her like a doll, just bent over at the hips, palms against the front of the shower. Laura spread the girls cheeks and ran the spray up and down from her ass to her pussy and back again, washing away the jizz someone had left behind. When she was finished, Laura hooked her arms around the girl. The arm holding the shower head was lower, and Laura used her free hand to spread the maid's pussy, exposing her clit to the spray of water. The maid cried out and Laura turned the spray away. "Ah-ah-ah," Laura said. "No reward if you're not good." The older woman watched the younger intently and when she'd bit her lip, Laura returned to stimulating the girl's engorged clit with the water. The girl remained silent as Laura sprayed around her clit and then moved down, spraying the sensitive area between the clit and the pussy's opening, then the opening itself, and then back up. Laura repeated this several times and heard the girl's breathing get harder, but she remained silent. Smirking inwardly, Laura turned the ring on the shower head, and suddenly the "gentle rain" setting was gone in favor of a harder, more focused blast. Laura turned this blast to the girls clit and wiggled her hand, moving the target just enough to flick all around the clit. The maid gasped and took one hand to her mouth, which she bit to keep herself from crying out. "Very good," Laura smiled. "Time for another reward." Laura moved the shower head down again, pausing briefly at the hole of the girl's cunt. Laura moved to the girl's side and switched the shower head into her other hand, then kept moving it around until it reached the girls ass. Spreading the cheeks again, Laura allowed the spray to shoot directly into her ass, and she let a moan slip. Laura yanked the shower head away and spanked the girl, a bit harder this time. "No," she said. "Bad girl." Seeing the maid's face shift into bliss, she spanked her again, eliciting another moan. Laura spanked her a third time and the girl managed to hold the sounds of her pleasure in. Laura shifted the girl back and sat in front of her, legs spread, arm stretched to offer the maid the shower head. "I cum first," she said simply. The maid hardly batted an eye before kneeling in front of the older woman and aiming the water spray at her new master's clit while Laura held her lips open for easier access. Laura wiggled her hips and moaned. "Jiggle the spray," she commanded, but the girl was clearly practiced at this and managed to arc the head around in a perfect circle around Laura's clit, leaving the older woman moaning and struggling to hold still. While still holding the water to her clit, the girl leaned forward, licking two fingers and slipping them inside Laura's pussy. Pleasantly shocked, Laura bucked up slightly as the fingers curled and massaged her G-spot, all while her clit was being rubbed better than any tongue could manage. After only another minute or so of these ministrations, Laura came, hard, and the maid turned the spray away to let her recover. Laura opened her eyes after a minute and saw the maid pleasuring herself with the shower head. "NO," she commanded, snatching the shower head away. "Get on all fours," Laura demanded. The girl obeyed, flushed by her water-based masturbation and by shame at having been naughty. Laura smacked her ass, just hard enough to sting, and the maid barely held back a moan. "No one will pleasure you but me," Laura leaned forward to hiss in her ear, "and that includes you." Leaving her on all fours, Laura held the shower head under the girl and blindly moved the shower head up and down, knowing that she was occasionally hitting the clit and occasionally missing it completely—intentionally frustrating the young woman. After a few minutes of this she moved the shower head more slowly and watched the girls reaction until she had the clit, which she sprayed directly, jiggling the head just slightly. It did not take much more for the girl to cum, which she did, violently, struggling to remain on all fours but leaning down and placing her head on the floor of the shower. Laura reached up and turned the shower off as the girl began to shake off her orgasm. Standing, she grabbed a towel off of a nearby rack and began drying. "Dry yourself off," she casually told the maid, which she did, slowly. When the girl made to move out of the shower and return to her clothes, Laura cleared her throat expectantly. The girl whirled around, confused for a moment, then smiling as she gained clarity. "Thank you, ma'am." The Next One Any university is covered in beautiful, blossoming babes, but Omnibus University was a standout. Healthy men and women on the cusp of erotic discovery, they displayed cut-offs and acres of toned skin on this first day of September. Sunny mornings would find swarms of delectable, curvaceous cleavage, jiggling as crowds moved back and forth past rugged brick buildings, muted only by the large oaks and willows surrounding the long sidewalks. Furtive glances and blatant stares were everywhere, as ripe, sinuous curves undulated under skimpy outfits and muscle shirts. A quiet hush of boots crushed the early fall leaves, piles rising and falling in the wake of endless swaying and rotating of hips, breasts, and thighs. Men on campus were outnumbered; women flashed sultry gazes, trying to spark interest from the males. School had just begun, all the activities for the coming year fought for prominence. Like any other college, Omnibus had sororities and fraternities, some unique to the school. One of them, Io Alpha Hetaera, or the 'ash's' as they called themselves, was in the middle of rush week. Candidates to join had to pass unique challenges. Fear and anticipation ruled the incoming freshers. Legend had it that some of these rushes dared on the illegal side, no one talked about that. Hetaera prided them on wildness; they threw the best parties, found the best men, and made them. It wasn't enough to have beauty; brains were part of the package. Three young candidates sat in the cafeteria, facing the front door. Something was going to happen, something wonderful. Zara, a 'mentor', looked at the glass doors, staring at each man as he entered. She idly pushed her dark hair away from her eyes, pushing her glasses back into place. She hunched substantial breasts over the top of the table, causing a sigh of dismay from Abrielle, the blond to the next of her. Abrielle knew something was up, but not what. They asked questions, but Zara remained silent. Abrielle stared at the ceiling, trying to ignore the woman, unless she spoke. On the other side, Ellie stared at the door, lost in her own thoughts, to judge from her expression. At 2:56 in the afternoon, the clock alone moved. The initiates had been staring at it for twenty minutes, while Zara sat sphinx like between them. Two minutes later, the mentor spoke. "Listen, Io Alpha Hetaera was formed in 1958. We are the sorority, the best, and the most popular. To enter our halls, you must face a challenge. Here it is. I'm going to assign one of you to do the next guy that comes through the door. Two minutes after that, the second will do the next guy. Any questions?" "Besides why?" Abrielle asked. That might not be so bad; a lot of well-hung studs are running around here. Zara smiled. "Think of it as the charity portion of being in the sorority. You're going to give a man the ultimate gift. You bring proof back, and you're in." Ellie frowned. "So I'm going to fuck a total stranger? To get into the house? What's up with that?" She leaned away, appalled at the suggestion. Zara looked over, leaning an elbow on the table, causing one of her boobs to slip off the table and jiggle. "Well, you have no obligation; I mean if you want to pledge at another house, that's fine. But we've had a tradition, since back in the 50's; every one of us has done the door. Your choice." Ellie bit her lip, and thought for a while. Resigned, she nodded. "I can't fucking believe I'm doing this. Why now?" "It's 2:58, and that's the time set for the challenge. The door's opening." Two women came through, heading for the snack isle. Zara shook her head. "Too bad, we can't get proof from a woman, so we'll have to wait a while longer. "Imagine my relief," Ellie said, her brows narrowed. Abrielle watched the door, wondering which one of them would get whatever it had to offer. She stared at it as if it awaiting some monster; her insides felt uneasy. What if it was some ugly guy? A gay guy...that wouldn't get her in. She started hoping it would be some Adonis. That would be more like it. The door opened, and in walked a member of the football team; tall, muscular, and confident. Yes! Abrielle thought. She turned to Zara, who wasn't facing in her direction. "Ellie, that's your ticket. Take this, and bring it back with his cum in it." She handed the candidate a condom. She smiled back at the mentor. "I can do this..." she said, surprising Abrielle. Slipping the package in her purse, she started sashaying towards her target. Abrielle sighed, and hoped his friend was behind him. Zara looked over, and smiled, "don't worry; someone's outside arranging things. It's a loose secret as to what happens about now; guys fighting to 'accidentally' make it. But we'll give you something challenging." "Challenging? I'm not sure I like the sound of that." Zara laughed. "Meeting challenges is part of being in any house. We show you're capable of handling things than you think you are. We haven't lost anyone yet. Some of them even hooked up, got married, and had kids. You never know when true love is..." Her face looked dark for a second, as if she remembered some distant pain. The door swung open, and Abrielle's head swung around. "No..." she hissed, "oh fuck no, don't even think." Zara put her hand on Abrielle's holding her in place. "Remember what I said about challenges." "But Zara...he's...a hundred or something! The challenge would be getting him hard!" Zara chuckled at that. "You might be surprised. Take a look at him. No pot belly, his legs work; all right, he's missing hair, but you know what they say, that's just too much testosterone. He's got glasses, so he's fairly intelligent." "Zara, please! My father's that old! It would be...just too creepy. What if I can't get rid of him? Do you know how embarrassing it would be to have a geezer like that following me?" "He's not your father, Abrielle. But he's the challenge. Go get 'em, tiger," she smirked. Abrielle stumbled back, shocked. Did she want to go through with this? What the hell would they say? The 00s? He probably didn't even have a tablet or a phone. She tried to get her legs to work, but she stood there, stiff, contemplating the awful fate in front of her. She felt a hand on her back, and turned around to Zara standing next to her. "Besides, every old guy's fantasy is a young thing like you. It's like shooting fish in a rain barrel. This is going to be easy! How could he possibly resist you?" She looked at Abrielle, pushing her forward. How indeed? Starting to calm down, she grinned. It's just sex, right? And she could blow him off afterwards. She was still looked young enough to pull the 'under 18' ploy, even if she wasn't. He'd be a dust cloud on the horizon by the time she got her license out. I must be fucking out of my mind, she thought, as she started towards him. Ronald Twixt was a lecturer, in a dry field, who taught dry students to become dry, like him. Robot design was still paying, but not like it did in the early part of the century. He'd just finished the first day of class; already saw the type that gravitated to it, mostly men, few women. Studious, shy, and scary smart. There'd be a few non-majors there, curious about how to make a robot run, or just padding their resumes for the eventual job search. He brushed the top of his head, still missing youthful hair. All these decades after, and they still couldn't make something that would grow it back, and make it stay. He started towards the snack lane, just in to pick something up for the afternoon, finalizing the next classes' lecture. Nutrisoda, and an empty-calorie safety snack...damn, he missed junk food. Waving his phone over the cashbot, he picked up a tray, balancing next to his backpack. He should get a briefcase; backpacks were so 'turn of the century'. Keeping the whole mess level, he started towards an empty table, not too far from that stacked woman. Why couldn't he get students like that? It would make class time a lot more interesting. The bold ones in his class looked at his shoes instead of their own, when they were talking to him. "Excuse me, is this seat taken?" he heard. Standing in front of him was...his brain went on hold. The young blond in front of him stood, top unbuttoned lower than the crisp air outside could warrant. She held a nutrisoda, her head tilted invitingly to the side, showing him some interest. What the fuck? "Uh, no," he got out, "plenty of room." Something was up, he thought. This was some sort of setup, it was rush week, after all. So what could they possibly want with him? He looked over at her, giving her a quick once-over, and appreciating the view. Long blond hair (thank heavens it was back in style), not a bad rack, plenty of cleavage. Nothing like the twin zeppelins anchored a few tables away, but when was the last time someone that desirable had paid attention to him? Aside from the occasional offer of a bj from some student who was failing, that is. Man, if only he wasn't working here. Well, jobs had been scarce for nigh on forty years, increasing automation had done away with so many of them. So he'd have to be cool, if she...well, ever said anything else. "Hi, I'm Abrielle," she said, extending a hand. My, wasn't she formal today? "Roger Twixt. I teach robot design. Do you want to get in the Intro class? We still have a few openings." Her face hardened, so that wasn't it. So what did she want? He found a table, dropping his pack onto the seat next to him. "I'm sorry, it's my first time away from home, and it's kinda lonely to be sitting by myself. You know?" She blushed, mirroring his movement. Daddy issues? Girls like this didn't go for guys like him, even when he was her age. Must be something else. Ah, and as an official 'old guy', I'm safe, he thought. Twenty years ago you might have had to worry. "Ok, I'm just making some notes for tomorrow's class. I'm not going to be much company." He bent down to look over his pad, considering the key points of the lecture. There was a tiny click, and he looked up furtively, and saw another button loose on her blouse. Fuck, what a pair. He could imagine his hands roaming over those creamy globes, squeezing and fondling... He shut his eyes, trying to concentrate. Wait, wasn't she just sitting with that ultibod there? They should have had a lot more in common. Glancing over, the woman stood up, faced him, and...Winked? Now he knew there was something going on. Her face reminded him of someone, but whom? "So, you going for a sorority?" he asked her, noting with satisfaction the sudden flash of fear. So that was her game? "Excuse me, I'll be back..." she whispered, and stalked back to humongo-tits. They had a relatively quiet but stimulating discussion, arms waving, those colossal tits jiggling, worth the show itself. Looking back at him, Abrielle's face went from angry to sugar-coated sweetness in a heartbeat. Watching the body language, he could sense that Miss Mountains wanted Abrielle to do something, something involving him. The slumped shoulders told him she didn't want to. Some silly sorority prank. Well, this might be interesting. Turning off his electronics, he saw Abrielle coming back to him, a smile pasted on her face As she sat, she looked at him. "Miss Abrielle? I think I see what's going on. I've been at Omnibus for ten years now. Pledging for...Io house?" Even he'd heard of the initiation rites. The large crowd of agitated men outside should have told him. How he got in front of them, he didn't know. "How? How did you..." He put up a hand. "They have certain...reputation, shall we say. You can imagine the lineup outside; I had to muscle my way in." She turned beet red, holding her hands in front of her face. "Yeah, Zara, the woman I'm with...she's a mentor and she told us we have to..." "Abrielle." he said. "What?" "You have my curiosity. You have to do something you don't want to, don't you?" He leaned forward, to talk more intimately. "I have..." she stopped, and leaned forward, "I have to do you." "R-really." he stammered, "I didn't think they went that far nowadays. When I arrived, it was usually underwear, something like that." She moved closer, sitting down opposite him. "I'm embarrassed. We're supposed to do it, and bring back proof." "I'm all ears. How can I help?" He adjusted himself, trying to hide a growing boner he hadn't enjoyed in years. "Take me home?" she batted her eyes, over the top, but the way she leaned forward, he could take in her nipples, a pink edge around the horizon of her bra. He was weakening, she sighed, moving those delicious globes up and down. The view was worth it. There it was. It was charity, but fuck! Just a one-time deal, but what a fantasy! He was undressing her with his eyes, his good name didn't matter that much anymore. "You've got a deal, Abrielle."She beamed satisfaction enough. He got up behind her, keeping a careful distance, passing Zara, and gave her a surreptitious thumbs-up. He carried his pack low over his crotch, trying not to advertise a raging erection. He didn't catch what she did with that, but at least he knew who to thank. The doors swung shut behind them, as Zara allowed herself a tiny smile. She'd been notified about the blond as soon as she arrived. Give her a hard time, Zara had been told, make it 'fun.' Give her a challenge. And don't worry if she failed. Abrielle allowed herself a chance to check him over as they walked...to wherever his place was. She shook herself; imagining him naked. Ugh...well, she could always close her eyes, make him do all the work. It's not like I'm supposed to enjoy it, she thought ruefully. He might have been cute once, she considered, looking at his hair. There was a hint of muscle, long gone, under his frame. Tired eyes, an interesting shade of blue. She darted her gaze aside, sensing him looking back at her. "What is it?" he asked her. "Nothing, just thinking about what we're going to do." She smiled. "Well, we're about where we need to be. My common sense has finally caught up with us." He scanned the sidewalk outside the cafeteria. None of the other girls had followed them. A mass of young male bodies clamored to get in, blocking the door. "I don't understand." He put his hands on his hips, putting down his papers. "Abrielle, someone's conning us. I don't know which of us it is. But that woman that set you up, she's not your friend." "Well, it's not supposed to be fun. It's a test of character." She shifted, wondering. "Character doesn't involve seducing middle-aged lecturers. I'm up for tenure...finally, and I don't want to uh, ruin it... I'm flattered, but I'm afraid I said the things I did because her watching. You seem like a nice girl..." "Wait a fucking minute! Are you turning me down?" She looked up at him, furious and hurt. "Are you gay or something?" No one had ever turned her down. How dare he? "Abrielle, why do you even do that? No, for the record, I'm not, but why should that matter? You're being asked to do something you find repugnant, and did you ever consider how that might make me feel?" "It's just sex," she replied offhandedly, "you don't need to get into some sort of complex about it." He sighed. "Abrielle, you're young..." "I'm not that young, mister. I'm a woman, why can't you treat me like one?" She considered saying 'fuck it' about the whole thing and go pledge somewhere else. He stared at her for a second, softening. "Very well, you're a woman. That was never in doubt. There's so much you don't know about love, sex, and..." "I know where everything goes, if that's what you mean. And I'm not a virgin. Why can't we just do it, and I can get to my homework?" He chuckled. "Abrielle, there's a lot more to sex than tab 'a' in slot 'b'. I have to admit I'm tempted," he started, "but I have a lot more at stake. I can lose my job; I can go to prison, even. That's the way it is. The one thing holding me back, besides that, is because you hate it, not because you want to." "I don't hate sex, I love it! I just like to find guys who are..." she stopped. "Young? I gathered that. Listen," he looked around, "if you really wanted to do it, you could..." he stopped. "Hi Ron, what's going on?" An older woman was approaching, in good shape for her age, a hint of gray at the temples. Another professor, from the looks of it. She carried herself with exaggerated poise, standing next to Twixt. Abrielle noticed a pin on the inside of her collar, but couldn't read it. "Gladys, hi. Can't complain, how are things with you?" She slowed to talk, as Abrielle shrank back. Great, now she'd have to listen to ten minutes of conversation about old people, none of whom she knew. The woman gave him a look, predatory, like she wanted him. Well later, honey, he's all yours. Do people that age even hook up any more? It bothered. Abrielle started, the woman spoke to her. "I'm professor Berkins. And you are?" Gladys said. "Abrielle, ma'am." She felt like curtsying, it would fit the language. "What brings you to talk with Ron? You don't look like the Robotics type." Her eyes narrowed, in some sort of judgment of the girl. Before she could dig out, Ron spoke up. "A new student. I'm sorry, I didn't get your last name?" "Norden, sir." Formal, keep it formal. This is so fucking embarrassing! "Yes, Miss Norden may take a Robotics intro class. She's interested in motivational controls. I was explaining what she might study, in order..." "Yes, I'm sure she was," Gladys replied smiling. "Not like you're trying to..." she let an accusation hang in the air. "To what?" Ron said, edge in his voice. His expression would have been the envy of any poker player. "Never mind, Ron. We'll meet in the next faculty bash. Goodbye, Ms. Norden," she added, before walking away, with...was she actually adding a sway to her stride? That hadn't gone well. "I don't know the first thing about robotics," Abrielle hissed, as the woman went out of earshot. "What was all that?" "You think professors don't gossip? That's what I'm said. You think college is a big party, but to the residents, it's a small town, everyone knows your name and business. If she'd suspected for a second that I..." Abrielle watched the retreating backside of the departing professor. It was sad, in a way, clueless. "Did you ever try to go out with her?" she asked him. "Gladys? Why?" His eyes opened wider, shocked at the suggestion. "I think you might think about it," she giggled, "she was trying to get you away from me." "You're kidding." He looked down the sidewalk, but the show was over. "Nope," she popped the 'p' in it, "you don't know a lot about women, do you?" She turned away from the retreating teacher. "You'd be surprised. I was married once." He looked down at the ground, frowning. "What happened?" "I'd rather not talk about it. If she was still alive..." "Oh." She left that alone. What was she doing, trying to bring up his old love life? Maybe I just don't want to fuck a total stranger... Turning to face the sidewalk again, he started forward. She watched him walk away...wait! "Hey, what about me?" she stumbled, trying to catch up. "I thought you got out of your predicament, Ms. Norden. Find a guy, jack him off, and make him cum in the rubber. Who's going to know?" "I am, for one." She stood in front of him. "Look, you're not diseased or something...are you?" "Not much opportunity for it. What are you getting at?" He stopped, looking back at her. She smiled. "Look, students get lonely. I'm not saying this'll be more a one-time thing, but maybe we can help each other." He stopped short, looking at her. "You're serious. This isn't about 'hump the geezer; anymore?" The Next One She scanned the sidewalk. No one showed for as far as the eye could see. "Yeah, I'm kinda curious, you know? And no one can say I didn't give it my best?" "I'm listening." He continued walking, turning down a side street. "K. Give me an address and I'll meet you tonight at...nine?" "All right. I can make dinner." He smiled, something that improved his looks. "You cook?" she reconsidered. Microwave 101 with this guy, she thought. Did they even have microwaves when he was young? "I'm no master chef, but I can chop veggies and make a full meal. Any preferences?" "Surprise me," she said, thinking about it. I can eat something before, in case he can't cook. "Well here's the address," he said, handing her a piece of paper. She took it, and started off to her dorm, a sway in her own ass, since she had more to work with, and a lot more in shape. Eat that, Gladys! Arriving back at her dorm room, she found Zara waiting, along with Ellie. She looked flushed, but bummed out. Zara looked at Abrielle. "So?" Her eyebrow raised a question mark in her expression. "This one's going to take work," Abrielle said, looking over her shoulder. Zara frowned. "Ellie's already done. He couldn't get it up?" "Haven't got that far, yet. He's more..." she thought for a second, "complicated." "He's an old guy," Ellie said. "How hard can it be?" They both laughed at the double entendre. "I don't know yet. I've got a dinner date at his place, then..." she let the rest hang. "You don't have to start a relationship with him," Zara pointed out, "just fuck him. Or is the cafeteria food that bad?" "Look, is there a time limit on this?" Abreielle complained. "Well, the record is two days, but that was back in the 50s'. With most guys, ten minutes is all you need." "Well, I'll bring back the goods, Zara, don't worry about that." "Just get it done, or we'll consider other candidates. I've got to go." Like a wooden figure on a sailing ship, she turned her twin orbs towards the door, leaving Ellie alone with Abrielle. Watching her go away, Abrielle grabbed Ellie's arm. "Tell me all about it." Ellie brightened some. "Well, you know the thing about long earlobes and long hands? Well, it didn't extend to his dick. He was enthusiastic, but I expected more." "I see." You lucky bitch. "He was 'wham, bam, and not even a thank you ma'am. You ever had a guy come and fall asleep on top of you?" Ellie rolled her eyes. "You're kidding." "I wish I was. I was all hot and bothered; he hadn't even made me come. The fucker was heavy! Plus, he snores!" "That fast? Usually I get some pillow talk, at least." Abrielle plunged into the overstuffed couch, nearer to her friend. "Abrielle, he looked great! But it was all about him, you know? I mean, I don't mind blowing a guy, but he was on a trigger. It took me twenty minutes to get him up again. Well, at least I can say I've done deep throat now. Not like it was a challenge." "Lucky you, Ellie. All I had to do was fake an interest in robotics, dodge a female professor who has the hots for him, and argue about was I woman enough for him." "What an asshole!" Abrielle winced. "Well, it does sound like it. He's sweet, but I wouldn't make him a habit. And he's been married, his wife died or something. I'm sure she taught him something, at least I hope so." "Does he remember your name?" She leaned forward, trying to keep the conversation private. "Yeah, he does." "You lucky bitch, beefcake minor didn't even remember mine. I hope you have some fun tonight." Abrielle smiled. "Not as much as I do." She looked away. Was she actually looking forward to tonight? He was a creepy old guy...sorta. Well, something...she went upstairs, deciding what to wear. It was just sex...right? There's a sort of language to dressing which men may not understand. A wardrobe makes a statement. Casual? Maybe, but you want him to light up when he sees you, she thought. Not slutty, they'll think you have a thing for him, and you'll never hear the end of it. For the next five minutes she mixed, matched, and put together something that said 'call me, maybe', she giggled. Her mom always went on about that song, even though it was older than she was. So she went out the door in a slightly casual dress, but with something to open up to display her charms, if she needed. Her phone gave her directions to his place; she took an odd turn and doubled back in case someone was following her. She wasn't paranoid; she just didn't want any juicy details to get out before she had a chance to acknowledge them. The street was quiet, unusual for 8:30, she was late. He's old-fashioned, he won't mind. She wondered, was he too old to get it up? Mom had been complaining about Dad in private, while she was holding her ears, making it quite plain she didn't want to know...yech. Still, he was...old. Who knew what kinky things they did back in the...00s? If she had to cosplay for him, no deal. Her low heels clicked on the asphalt, still glistening from an afternoon rain. She breathed in a chilly breath of air, breathing in the odor of cut lawns, last of the season, and thought about past boyfriends. According to the faint glow of her phone, she was there. Interesting, an older home, one of those humongous things from the turn of the century. It probably didn't even have a computer, or smart appliances. Well, then he did look like a geek, so maybe he...she stopped. Why the fuck am I interested? I'm just going to jump in, jump him, and get lost. Shaking her head, she started towards the yard, then stopped as she noticed someone already knocking on the door. Slipping out of the glare of the streetlight, she hid behind a tree, as she noticed...that bitch again, Gladys. Did he invite her over? Were they an item or something? She was just close enough to see the door open. "Gladys? What brings you here?" he said. "Oh, I was just in the neighborhood. I was sorry about the way I acted earlier today. I just wanted to apologize." You should, bitch, Abrielle thought. "That's quite all right, I was just explaining..." "Robotics, to that young chippie?" Gladys concluded. Chippie? What the fuck is a chippie? It didn't sound polite, whatever it was. Back to bitch the older women went. "Well, nothing like that. She's not even a tech major, just being polite." Thanks for nothing, dude. "May I come in?" No! Not now! "Well, I was about to make dinner and work on my lesson plan..." "Oh, I'll just be a minute..." and breezed past him, before he had a chance to stop her. Bitch! That fucking bitch! It was bad enough she had to go through with this, without some dried-up crone muscling in on her...obligation? She only wants him 'cause she thinks I want him! Back off girl or else! She peeked around the trunk, looking to see if she could see where they'd gone. There was a window open on the side of the house. She crept up to it, trying to see or hear. "...so I just realized that there might be something after all to you, Ron." Well, that explained it. The old biddy saw a young thing paying him attention, and decided to cut in line. Is she really going out with him? Something is going wrong around here, she mused. Why do I have to be the seal of approval? She heard the clink of crockery, and something grilling on the stove. It smelled good, and after a week of cafeteria food and delivery, she found her mouth watering. Fucking bitch; I could have least got a good meal out of it. She found a cinderblock propped next to some garbage cans, propped it next to the wall. At least it didn't look dirty, so she could sit on it. She cringed as it made a stone like grind, but the two in the kitchen didn't hear. Gladys had him circled and staked out, in for the kill. "So, I was wondering Ron, are you seeing anyone?" "Well, not at the moment, but there's not a lot of time in our profession. Why do you ask?" "Well, there's enough food here for two, for starters." "It's all for me, Gladys, I came by this potbelly honestly." Echh...that's disgusting, the student below considered. She leaned against the side of the house, her blood starting to boil. Was he that innocent? "Well you shouldn't eat all that yourself. Why don't I help?" "Gladys, I..." he shuffled his feet. Well that's rude...fuck the man and eat my lunch. "Oh, you've got plenty. I'm a girl with appetites too, you know." "Gladys..." "Just a taste? It smells yummy from here." I'll yummy you into next week, you filthy cunt! She heard something being put down, clacking on the table. "Well, I can give you a serving, but I've really got to get to work, you know." Gladys giggled, further incensing Abrielle. It's not funny when you do it, grandma, she thought. "Nonsense, its Friday night. Mmm...This is good, Ron. A man who can cook is too good to go to waste." Aaiigh! She projected Just let me get some dick, and I'm gone, you fuckhead, this is embarrassing enough! A chair groaned, and she heard heels walking across the kitchen. A rustling of clothes, and she heard Gladys whispering, but she couldn't make it out. What was that asshole doing? "Gladys, I...this isn't professional." "We're not at work, Ron. And I've had my eye on you...oh, my. I didn't know you were so gifted!" Oh that does it, she's dead, dead dead! Hands off the dick! She heard a cloth like rustling, and the unmistakable sound of a zipper. More rustling above had her worried. Old guys were...well, they were only good for one time, right? If the old lady got her mitts on him, she'd have to work half the night! This isn't fair! "Gladys...oh, fuck, don't...please...please don't stop." A slick sound up above, sucking, and pops and slurps made it clear what she was up to. Gladys moaned softly as she worked. Fuck! Gladys one, me nothing! Overhead, lip-smacking noises and moaning made it clear what was happening. What to do now? Would she spend the whole night? Zara gave her the weekend, then she'd have to try pledging somewhere else. I'm on a timetable here, bitch. Just take your dentures out and suck him off, she thought. Despite the anger she still felt building, she noticed a growing moistness between her legs. I'm getting turned on? "Mmm...damn you're big, Ron. I can barely get you into my mouth!" "Gladys, we shouldn't be doing this," he said, and Abrielle heard a chair move. Maybe he's pulling away, maybe she'll stop. "I agree. Which way is your bedroom? I've got it just as hard as I want it. Let me show you what I can do with a mattress..." Oh, she does not talk like that! She's got to be pulling 50, not just pushing it... Abrielle's fists were clenched, all the better to pop that ancient slut a good one in the mouth. Two sets of feet walked down the wooden floors, off into the distance. Well, that was it. What to do now? She got up silently, brushing the cinderblock dust off of her ass, started back up the sidewalk. She made a note of Professor Bitch's car and license plate. Deflate her tires? No, that would only make her stay there longer. Hold that thought for another day. Dejected, she slunk back to her dorm room. Only a solitary cricket, the last of the year, chirruped behind her, before it died, like her hopes. I'm going to have to face her, so I might as well face the music. Paging Zara, she found the woman upstairs, alone, in her own dorm room. It was sparsely decorated, a lot bigger than Abrielle's, and was filled with antique furniture, an illegal hot plate, and even an espresso machine. Stacks of books lined one wall, mostly history, management, and psychology. "Well, do you have the package?" Zara asked, an eyebrow rising. "No. The bastard was grabbed by a female professor. She was fucking blowing him in the kitchen." Zara smiled at that, averting her eyes. "And then she left?" Abrielle snorted. "She's probably starting round two by now. So I wanted to ask you..." she pulled herself up straight, hands on hips, "if I can just select another guy." Zara's eyes rolled, which probably counted for a 'no'. "Listen, part of this whole exercise is to see how you handle diversity. It wasn't meant to be easy." "Well, Ellie didn't seem to have any problem." Zara motioned for her to sit. "Ellie's a legacy; her mom was here in around 2014 or so. You're not. We naturally set higher standards." "A washed-up limp dick geezer like that? How is that adversity? Ten minutes with a hand job and I would have been done." "Then why haven't you?" She drew back, crossing her arms. "I..." she grew silent as she realized she'd sprung a trap."Well, he was hardly alone, was he? Every time I tried to make my move, this bitch sidles up in the way. He's going to be dry by the time that one is done." "Well, you might be careful who you call 'bitch'," Zara said, leaning towards her charge, "is she going to spend the night?" "How the fuck would I know?" "Listen, Abrielle, here's what we're testing. Life is not a picnic. Thing get in the way, don't go as planned, you're going to face adversity, opposition, even create enemies. To show the kind of attitude we want, you have to show us that you can face and overcome challenges. We want to know that you can go outside the program, and show us innovative ways to solve the problem we've set for you." Abrielle leaned back, frowning. "You make this sound like a job interview or something." "It is. The Greek system is designed to pick the exceptional and give them every advantage in life. The one thing we can't guarantee is how to handle things when they don't go as planned. That's what you have to show us. Also, you're going to find that your way to the top is often blocked by guys his age. You have to be clever, and you have to know your enemy." She looked into Abrielle's eyes, right at the word 'enemy.' "How long have I got?" Zara smiled, eyes narrowed. "The record is two days. That gives you..." she looked at the clock on her tablet, "about thirty-nine hours." "It's also about eleven. He's no doubt out for the count." "I'm sure you have ways of reviving boyfriends who leave you stranded?" she smirked. Abrielle stood up, facing her mentor. "Well, yeah...but older guys, they don't come back up as fast. From what I hear," she said. Thanks, mom, she thought. Zara turned away from her, looking out the window. "Consider it a challenge. Now you have to go; I'm expecting my second date in about twenty minutes." Abrielles eyebrows peaked. "You've already had a date, and now..." There could only be two big reasons for that. "Sometimes you can't do just one. Now shoo, as grammaw used to say." Closing the door behind her, the pledge shook her head. "She's just showing off," she grumbled, until she remembered what her own grandpa used to say..."it's not bragging if you can do it." "Well, gramps, let's go rustle up the elusive trouser snake." She checked again to see if she had the condom, then strode back out into the night air. A few blocks later, she was back in front of the professor's house, and Gladys was gone. There was a light still on, so with luck, the man was still up, or soon would be. She checked herself out, lowered her top to expose more cleavage, and went to knock on the door. She didn't hear anyone, so again with the knock. Someone came to the door, irregular shambling footsteps... She looked behind her; no one was out on the street at this time of night. The door opened, and professor Twixt looked out at her. "Oh." He looked out, scanning the neighborhood. "Come in. Listen, about tonight..." She put a hand to his lips. "Yeah, Gladys stops by, eats all the food, shows you a good time and leaves. Are you sure she's not a he?" It sounded like some of her dates in high school. He looked at her, surprised, at a loss for words. "Ah, no...I can categorically state that Gladys is a she, she supplied ample proof." Sitting down on the hall bench, he looked over, fatigue in his eyes. "I think it's been a while for her." He looked towards the kitchen. "She didn't even leave any leftovers." "Forget about that. I still want this," she put a hand on his crotch, "and it...hmmm...it's bigger than I thought." He was thick, not too much for her, but round and long enough. This would fill her, and then some. If she didn't look at his face, she could probably get off on this salami. He moaned, hands reaching for her tits. Let him, she thought, I could use some attention. Fuck, it's been a while for me too. She leaned down, her lips only a touch away from his, warming her face. Then they touched her own lips, pressing hard against hers, the tongue parting her own, as they began to dance. Hmm, he's a good kisser, she thought, slipping into his arms, pulling him closer. The kiss went on, warming her up, making her moist. Nothing tentative about it, he knew what she wanted; exploring her body, learning what thrilled her, stroking the already-hard nipples, sending shivers of lust straight down to her pussy. She moaned against him, guiding his hand to both breasts, starting to melt against him, breaking the kiss. "Bedroom, now" she croaked, shaking with anticipation. She followed him down the hallway, watching his butt move the way she liked, though she had to admit that it wasn't as firm as it could be. Still, it would be a good handful, when he was inside of her, and that counted. He opened the door, gesturing towards the bed. She watched his face, looking at his eyes shining. He wants it, she smirked, and he wants me. Not like some dried up old... Behind them, a knock sounded at the door. "Shit!" they said together. Ronald looked panicked. "I hope it's not..." the door rattled again. Someone was insistent. "Ron, are you there?" a voice called out, loud enough to hear in the bedroom. "Coming!" he called. He turned to look at her. You've got to hide in here," he said. He opened a door to the closet, dark and musty. She didn't want to be locked up in there. "But..." "I'll try to get rid of her," he hissed. "It won't be long." "Good, but don't forget me." She got into the closet, closing the wooden door. The world grew dark and spooky; there was nothing visible except some faint light through the keyhole, and under the door. The wooden floor was hard and cold, she'd better not have to be in here very long. Well, at least I'm in. Now a few feet, we're on the bed and...She clamped her thighs together. She was almost ready, and then this has to happen! "No, really Ronald, I couldn't concentrate. That big, hard cock of yours, I just can't leave it alone." Abrielle could hear cloth rustling, footsteps coming towards the bed. "Gladys, I need to get an early start in the morning, I don't think I can get another..." "Oh, I beg to differ professor, its hardening up already. You thinking of me? Let me see it." She heard Twixt moan in protest, then a long, wet, slurp. "I want this," Gladys panted, "inside me. Fuck me, fuck me now." There was a long, extended sigh, and a prideful laugh. "Oh yes, that's just where it belongs." "Uh, don't you want the bed?" Sock-clad feet stumbled against the floor; two shoes were kicked, clattering against the closet door. Abrielle gasped. Don't throw them in here! "I don't think I can wait that long, Ronald. Right here, right now." Something hit the wall. Probably her fat ass, Abrielle thought. A rhythmic bumping sound started, meaty smacks as two hips rammed against each other. A slick, liquid sound as he plunged over and over into her wetness. "Yes, yes, that's right, ram it in there, stud. Oh, it's so big, fuck me with that cock." The female professor wasn't at a loss for words, "Ohh, yes, right there, let me, mmm, fuck yeah. Harder, do it harder!" she squealed. The pounding got faster. The Next One Inside the closet Abrielle seething with anger and embarrassment. Why can't that be me? Why does this nosy bitch keep getting in the way? She was still turned on after playing with that huge boner, which would feel so good in her pussy. Her insides wet, she moved a hand down to clamp between her legs. Shit, I'm ready now! She realized. She eased her zipper open to get at the hard clit and swollen lips. Oh yeah, I'm ready, she mused. Moving in slow circles, she listened to the hard fucking outside, picturing herself impaled on that mighty organ, getting filled in the best possible way. She panted as she played with herself, stroking up and down every part of her soaking pussy, silent breaths, not wanting to get caught. Fuck him, and get out of here! She raged against herself, her hips already starting to move with the pleasure radiating through her legs. That feels so good, she thought. "Yes, oh, Ron, I'm gonna come, I'm gonna come all over that beautiful cock of yours, don't stop, don't you dare stop!" The wall was shaking now, fixtures and pictures scraping as they fucked even harder. Now that's the way I'd like to be taken, Abrielle moaned to herself, to be wanted that way, oh yes. She eased her pants open, getting a finger inside her slick pussy, clamping down on it like a cock. Her other hand moved faster, slipping and sliding over her hungry clit, waves of ecstasy starting to build. Oh, this is gonna be a good come, she thought. Fuck that cock, fuck it! If only it were her. "Ah, yes, ah yes," Gladys was yelling, "I'm gonna, oh, oh, oh...YES! YES!" she howled, "Oh fuck yeah! That's it! So good, so good!" The wall rumbled as Gladys' fleshy hams rocked back and forth, helpless in the throes of her intense climax. "Oh, gawd that's good!" Ronald was gasping, still pounding her against the wall. Gladys moaned. "You haven't come yet, you scamp? Well, keep fucking, give me all your come, I want every drop. Come for me, baby. "She started coaxing him, pleading with him to fill her. A question exhaled from him, the shaking stopped. "What the fuck are you doing?" he blurted. "You've never had a finger up your ass, hon?" Gladys giggled. "It makes you come so much more. Feel that." "Huhn...oh fuck, that's..." He started pounding even harder. Abrielle's hands were a blur as she fought to come herself; she was that close, it was just a matter of seconds...she bit down on a sports coat to keep from screaming. Her own hips started bucking against the clothes, the climax taking control of her body. Outside the closet, Ronald Twixt came harder than he had since he was a teenager. He roared as his cock slammed deep into her, pussy grabbing and milking every jet of hot come hosing into her. Spurt after spurt filled her aching pussy, dripping down her legs, dripping on the floor. "Fuck yes!" Gladys said. "Yes, fill that pussy with your come, give it all to me. I want it, I want it," she cried into his ear. "Oh, that's so wonderful; you came so much for me, I like that." Abrielle fought to control the gasps of her climax from giving her away. Damn, that was so good, but yet...she still felt unfulfilled. I'm going to get a complex from this, she moaned. All that come going to waste. She bit her lip in frustration. "So, Ron, what do you like for breakfast?" Gladys said. "No!" Abrielle yelped, hoping she wasn't heard. Outside the closet something slumped against the wall, someone sighing. "Did you say something, hon?" Gladys asked. "Are we alone?" She padded a few steps forward. "You don't have that jailbait girl here, do you?" "What sort of question is that? Do you think I have hot and cold running coeds through here? I teach robotics, Gladys. It's not high on the list for dalliance, or so I've heard." There was silence for long, pregnant seconds. Abrielle didn't dare even breathe. Jailbait? Oh, that was over the line. "Ah, I don't know. I could have sworn I heard someone." There was a noise rustled, someone on the bed. "Sure you won't mind some company tonight?" "Gladys...I'm sorry. I'm going to have to get up early; I've got thirty-four robot proposals to do..." Silence, then the sound of clothing, then shoes on the wooden floor. "I get the picture. Well, I have work to do too. I'll just let myself out?" The rustling sounded again, Abrielle heard angry steps behind, heading for the door. The front door shut with a click, and the footsteps returned. The closet door opened as she pulled on her pants. She stood, dodging a rack full of polo shirts and suits, her panties still sticky from her last orgasm. "Well, that's one," he said, holding the door. "You're kicking me out too?" she said, looking up into his eyes. "Young lady, I'm not seventeen any more, I just got molested twice tonight, and my balls are so dry you could use them for an ocarina." She giggled, thinking of the image. "I've spent half the night trying to get in here. Every time I try to do this, that woman jumps in line. If I didn't know better..." "Gladys and I have known each other for a while. We're not an item, though after tonight," his eyes grew soft, and a smile quirked on one side of his face. "Look I just need one time, that's all. You can both go down the yellow brick road after that, for all I care. I have ways to make your stalk," she whispered in his ear. She drew a fingertip down his chest, low over his thighs, to stroke his shaft through his sweats. "Mmm," she cooed, "this is a big, fat cock. I think I might even enjoy this." She rubbed it back and forth. Twitching, it starting to swell. "Hmm...Maybe you are seventeen after all." Ronald grabbed her by the shoulders, breathing faster. "Look, here's the deal. If you can get me hard, and get me off, you're welcome to all the..." he blushed, "jism you can collect. I'm just saying there's not going to be much to brag about." She grinned. "Works for me. Why don't you get out of those soggy things, and watch?" She saw desire beginning again, feeling satisfaction as she slipped the bottoms off him. Looking downwards, she smiled as she saw what she'd waited all night to find. It was thick, oh my was it, not as long as she'd hoped for, but once it was hard, she'd be filled more than she ever had. She took her hand and pushed him onto the bed, seeing him start to rise, hardening under her fingers. Could she get this monster in her mouth? Her lips pouted as she considered the thick head bobbing in front of her. Closing her eyes, she licked the front of the shaft, just below the head. Guys always liked that part, she knew, he was no exception. I could just lick it like an ice cream cone, she thought. The musky male scent of it started her poor puss to moistening again. This was a thick one, she imagined how it would feel inside her, she'd be stretched, fuller than any guy she'd been with until now. "Ohh, that's good," she hear him encouraging her. Her shaft filled her hand; she made short, teasing slurps on the bulbous head, pumping up and down the hardening meat. It stiffened under her fingers, growing under her ministrations. She got wet; giving head always got her excited, sometimes she forgot to stop until the guy came. Not this time, this would be an inside job, of her. Oh, harder...make it harder! She started rubbing herself, trying to get wetter. This would need a lot of girl juice to fit; it was a real hole-spreader. She stopped teasing, and opened her mouth wide to get the head in. It filled every bit of her mouth; she couldn't even get the shaft into her throat. Her eyes flew open as she licked around the tip, drew back with a gasp. "How does anyone suck this monster?" she muttered. "Oh, don't stop," he said, hands on her shoulders. Good touch, he wanted it, but if he'd grabbed her head she might think twice. Beg for it, she thought, don't force me, I know what I'm doing. She opened as wide as she could, got the head in, and an inch of shaft. It just wouldn't go any further. Mewing, she pulled back, attacking the head with her tongue. His hips were starting to move, she didn't have much time left. I knew there was some life left in him, she mused. She pulled up, perched over him, hand still busy in her bush. "Could you get me ready? I mean go down on me?" She lay back, watching him raise, in every sense of the word, his face slowly approaching her thighs. "Another few seconds, and I might have come," he said. "Let's see how close I can get you." He brought his lips close to her; she could feel the hot breath just out of reach. She groaned, moving her hips up to get his mouth in contact. "Oh, don't tease me," she said, grabbing his hair, pulling down into her. Sure if she grabbed his head, that was ok, right? She felt his tongue slide over her clit, making her jerk in anticipation. What kind of head would he give her? She moaned as she felt him lick everywhere, up and down the lips, darting into the hole, lapping up her juices. The man had talent, or maybe this mysterious wife had trained him well. Whatever the reason, he soon had every delightful inch of her on fire, waves of pleasure radiating from her center, opening her. She started to move, feeling another orgasm approaching, just out of reach. She gasped as he drew away, softly blowing against her clit. Fuck, I was that close! She growled, pulling his head back into place. He continued to work on her. Once, she'd dated a guy who tried to write the alphabet with his tongue, it was exciting the first time, but stopping after each letter almost made her want to clobber him. Not the professor, at least he was using cursive moves with his tongue. So much more civilized. She felt herself growing close again... "Are you ready?" he asked. "Oh fuck yeah, fuck me, fuck me..." she slapped the mattress."Fuck me! The condom!" She hated having to get up and leave the bed, just to get the evidence bag. Part of her wanted to just forget it, and have him bareback, but she couldn't afford the consequences. She rummaged through her purse, insides throbbing, until she found it. Pushing him down, she slipped it over his now rock-hard member, at last! She drew herself over him. "I'm so ready," she gasped, "just let me get used to it, ok?" He nodded, taking in the sight of her lowering herself over it. She felt the head begin to enter, wider, and still wider, until her eyes crossed. And I still have to get the rest in! She shut her eyes, concentrating on opening up. Oh yeah, it filled her like none of her other men, she winced as she pulled another two inches. He undulated under her, hands holding her breasts, flicking the nipples, lovingly. She wanted to lower them down to him, have him lick and suck them, but right now, she had to...ohhh...get the damn thing inside her. She grunted, as the last inch overfilled her, clit tight against the hardness. "Oh, fuck, it's so big." "Just relax, give it some time, you'll get used to it." he said, still sending tingles through her breasts. She leaned forward, looking into his eyes. "Go ahead, suck them, and let me feel it." She was stretched, open wide, the tongue tip flickering over each nipple sent horniness right to her clit. She rocked her hips above him, relishing the feeling. The slick sound seemed to make him harder, she continued to rub him against her, sinuously rocking a rhythm as old as time. As much fun as getting her tits sucked, she felt the gnawing hunger of her cunt take hold. Exhaling, she sat straight above him, rocking forward and back, more aroused with every stroke. She moved up and down, finally fucking it into herself, feeling her vag expand and contract against it. He started moving against her, plunging in again and again, making her see stars, falling into step with her own stroke. They were together now, connected, each showing the other how good it could be, syncopated with lust and desire. "Oh fuck yeah," she rasped, "that cock, that beautiful cock." She was gone, slamming it into herself, wanting him to come, not just for the prize, but because of the pleasure, fulfilling her needs. Her tortured clit was as hard as his cock, rubbed and lubricated; she felt the beginnings of her long-deprived climax getting closer. A red haze settled over her. She wanted that orgasm, she'd have it. She tried to clasp him with her interior muscles, which increased the throbbing goodness. Meaty slaps of thighs on thighs filled the room, the wet sounds echoing through the house. She could smell herself, shuddering close, the scent of aroused woman growing stronger. "I'm gonna....oh fuck, I'm gonna come!" she shouted, out of control, loving every second of it. She slammed down once, twice, and her pussy exploded around him, causing her to shriek in welcome. "Oh yeah, oh yeah," she repeated, her insides milking him. He was still as hard as ever, he hadn't come! Looking down at him, she saw his gazed fastened on her, absorbed, intent, wanting her. She tumbled into his arms, legs still open wide. "You didn't come?" "I told you it might take awhile. How about," he sketched out another position, she nodded. This guy still had a boner, and she'd already come. Most guys her age were already out. True, they could get hard faster, but they didn't last nearly this long. She stood in front of the bed, hands grasping the railing, exposed to him, waiting for him to...oh yes, there's that big fat fucker, right where it belongs. She braced against the furniture, feeling him slide deep inside, farther than before, his speeding up driving her crazy. Again and again he pushed deep into her, until she felt a second orgasm start to build. No wonder miss granny-panties couldn't get enough of him, addicted to it. She tried to hold back, make him fight for the climax; she wanted to come when he did. She wondered how guys held off; there was no pretense in this one. He wanted to come as much as she did; he wasn't faking or thinking of baseball statistics. "Oh, oh, yes," she cried out, her pussy tensed again. Abrielle started pushing back against him, letting him know how much she wanted it. "That's it, fuck it, fuck it hard. I want you to come for me, come inside me, oh please..." "Almost there," he got out, "there it is, oh yeah..." he called out; she felt his cock twitch, all the way in, doing its best against her pussy. She came again, and a third time, a multiple orgasm. I've never had one of those before, she marveled, I like it! She felt the hardness subside, shrinking; though she had to admit she was still fuller than most guys, even when hard. Her thigh muscles were protesting, a counterpoint to the warm glow of her climax. She pulled herself off the thick organ. It was sad in a way, but he sounded like he'd run the marathon. Now the tricky part. She grabbed the condom, catching it to hold in the evidence. Not much there, but he's been half fucked to death, she thought. Well, they didn't say anything about quantity... She regarded him, half out of it already, laying himself down on the bed. "Is that what you needed?" he said. He grimaced, groaning as his head slipped back. "I don't mean to be rude, but I've had enough excitement for one day. I have a feeling Gladys is already on her way back." He was half under the covers already. She pouted. He won't even kiss me goodbye? It wasn't fair. He was drowsy, just like the other guys. That's the real 'Eve's curse,' she concluded, all fuck and no cuddle. Two or three times and they go all wobbly. But then she wasn't going to be making this guy an item, was she? He was in his fifties, get real. Gladys could have him. I can do better, she reasoned, definitely younger. "Well, thank you for being a good sport," she said, seeing him nod. "Good luck with Gladys." He groaned, and drifted away. She turned out the light, and closed the door behind her. Heading down the hall, she turned out lights as she went, opening the front door. No, the bitch's car wasn't anywhere she could see. At least she was spared that... the click of the front door closing behind her sounded loud as thunder against the quiet. Time to start home. She checked her tablet, 2:45 am. Fuck, good thing they didn't have curfews, or she'd be... "So, what did you think?" a voice from the front yard shadows called. No, you've got to be kidding me...The professor stood there, hands on hips, staring at the young student. "Ms., uh, professor, uh..." Gladys came out into the streetlight, smiling. "I think after what we've shared between us, sister Norden, we Hetaera can go by first names." "What?" Abrielle hissed. "You mean, you, you're..." "Io Alpha Hetaera, class of '15. Zara told me to test you, and it sounded like fun." She opened her collar, showing the pin, exposing the writing. She jerked a head towards the house. "I only have one question." "Uh, what's that?" Abrielle found herself bracing for something. "You're not going to want him, are you?" the professor's face froze, composing into careful neutrality. Her hands curled into fists, braced on her waist. "No, I mean, never!" Abrielle held up her hands to fend off the possibility. "He's uh, all yours ma'am." "Well, that remains to be seen. You forced my hand; I'd had my eye on him. But he's not done yet." She crossed her arms in front of her. "Listen, between us girls, Zara had reservations about you. Something to do with your Mom, when she went here. Walk with me," she commanded. Gladys started towards campus, so Abrielle was compelled to follow. "I have a question too," she asked. "That's fair. What is it?" They passed out of sight of the street, the sound of their walking absorbed into the stillness. "Why him? And why you?" She shook her head. "I mean, most of the other girls got students, and I have to go and do an..." "Old geezer? Like I said, Zara made the pick, not me. And I think we can both agree there might be snow on the roof, but the furnace still works." The image made Abrielle stick out her tongue. He wasn't all that gray, but still... "Like I said, there's bad blood between your mom and Zara's. Oh, nothing drastic, just some hard feelings over your mom and a guy a quarter-century ago. When you decided to pledge for Hetaera, Carolyn couldn't resist some payback." "What does it have to do with me?" Abrielle wanted to shout. Instead, she said "What my mom did back at my age, that's something she did. I don't think it's fair." "Fair had nothing to do with it. Life isn't fair. But I hope you've learned that there's a history behind people. As a Hetaera, I'm going to recommend you to the house. It's not a decree, but it has some weight. You'll probably have a pin like this soon enough." "Why so nice to me? I mean, I did your boyfriend, you should hate me." It seemed obvious enough. "I'm not happy about that part, Abrielle," Gladys said, "but he's going to seeing a lot more of me, if I can help it. You put the idea in his head. I'm just picking up where you left off. As long as you understand enough to stay away from him." "I'd be too embarrassed. And if word got out, I'd be gone, and him too. Mom would kill me!" She stepped away. "You don't have anything to worry about." The dorm was coming up. Gladys looked down at Abrielle, studying her face, making up her mind about something. She nodded slowly. "I'm glad we had this talk. Good luck with college. Remember, Hetaerae stick together. You may find yourself doing something like this one day, so be ready." "I will," Abrielle replied. "Until the next one." The professor turned to leave. "Whoever he may be." Then she headed out of the commons, out of sight.