by Lux Zakari
“Right now?” he echoed as she unzipped his jeans.
Breeze nodded, her teeth grazing her lower lip as his other hand slipped under her shirt. She shivered when his palm smoothed over her skin. “Right now, right here, behind this building. Consider it us christening the campus. Is there a problem?”
“None.” A gusty breath escaped his mouth as Breeze pulled his cock from his jeans. “I’m just glad to know we’re getting the school year off to a good start. I think I like college already.”
She drew his bottom lip in between hers, and Michael couldn’t fight the moan that had been building in him as she eased her hand up and down his cock. The slow, liquid feeling in his head made every stroke feel even more intense, more erotic.
“Touch me.” She guided his hand to the front of her pants.
He deftly undid the buttons and slipped a hand inside her panties, unable to fight his grin. Even though he and Breeze had been dating for years, she still made him feel like he had the first time they’d ever fooled around.
Breeze tossed her head back, reminding him of a Breck model. “I love it when you touch me like that.”
“Like this?” His fingers found her clit and moved in slow, torturous circles.
“Yes.” She pushed her hips against him as she continued to stroke his cock. “Exactly like that.”
His hand still on her clit, Michael inched her pants down to midthigh, as far as they would go. He eased a finger inside her pussy, already wet with want. His heavy-lidded eyes watched as Breeze hissed out a “fuck” and writhed atop him as his fingers dipped in and out of her body. The drug combined with his lust made the moment feel otherworldly. For a moment, he could almost believe he and Breeze weren’t themselves, but rather a random, faceless couple sharing an illicit tryst on school property. The mental transposition sent another electric-like surge to his cock.
Breeze pulled away from him and rolled backward into the overgrown grass. “I can’t wait.” She pushed her pants down her legs then straddled him once again, her corduroys and her underwear pooling around one of her ankles.
His hands greedily rubbed the length of her bare skin, from her smooth calves to the backs of her thighs to her ass, the skin there growing cold in the morning air. He attempted to swallow an impatient moan in vain.
Breeze grabbed his cock, slowly guided him into her and cried out at the initial contact. She mumbled his name, her words sounding like whimpers as she pinned him against the concrete wall and rotated her hips over him.
He tensed as he slid deeper into her wet pussy, and his fingertips dug into her hips. “Jesus, you’re so fucking sexy.”
Breeze let out another moan, louder than the one before, the primal noise causing him to stifle one of his own.
“You’re gonna get us caught,” he whispered to her.
“I can’t help it, baby, I’m so close.” She braced herself against the wall, pressing her palms against the concrete for leverage as her movements became quicker. He bit his lip as his orgasm raked through him, the pot he’d smoked earlier making it feel like fireworks exploded inside his body. Breeze followed suit, letting out a scream of pleasure, and then collapsed against his chest.
They stayed like that for a moment with their damp foreheads pressed together, panting and waiting for their heart rates to slow while students shuffled around nearby, shouting to each other.
“Think they heard?” Breeze murmured.
“Probably, but so what? Put your clothes on and if anyone asks, we’ll say you were screaming because you hurt your leg sprinting to class.”
She giggled as she rolled off him and stuffed her other leg back into her pants. “Do you really want me to put them back on?” She pulled the corduroy to her knees and turned around to shake her bare ass at him, her summer tan lines still fresh on her skin. Her days spent in the sun, slick with baby oil, to achieve the golden brown look that made all the boys hungry had been well spent.
He leaned forward to smack her bottom, and she yelped and fell over in the grass. “Fuck yes, I do. I don’t want some horny loser to see and jerk off to you before English Comp or whatever.”
Breeze turned over onto her back, her pants still tangled around her legs. She remained gloriously naked from her breasts to knees. “That’s better than me jerking them off myself, right?”
“You have a point.” He tucked away his now limp cock and zipped his jeans.
Breeze let out a sigh as her hand traveled to the area between her legs and her fingers dipped inside her pussy. “I can’t put my pants on now. I’m a mess.”
“Here.” Michael pulled a piece of orange cotton from the back pocket of his jeans. “Use this.” He tossed the thin square of paisley fabric in her direction, but it fluttered in the air and fell a few inches from her outstretched fingers.
“You’re lending me your emergency bandanna?” Breeze snatched his offering and used it to wipe her upper thighs dry. “You’re so thoughtful.”
“So you’ve noticed.”
She balled up the used handkerchief and threw it at him, and he stuffed it back in his pocket as he watched her lift her pelvis toward the cloudless blue sky and yank her pants over her hips. Then he dove on top of her and she let out a squeal of laughter. His mouth found hers, and her shrieks died off, replaced with soft moans and giggles as their legs entwined. A cool waft of late summer wind swept over them, rustling through the tall grass and tickling their flushed faces. Comfortable drowsiness floated through Michael and went straight to his lips, his kisses becoming leisurely.
Breeze eventually broke away from him and brushed a strand of hair from his eyes. “We better get to class.”
He sighed. “You do-gooder.” He moved off her and slid his aviator sunglasses back into place. “This college thing better be worth the effort.”
“I’m sure it’ll be hard to surpass the vast opportunities presented to you by Gas ’n Go, but give it a whirl.” Breeze stood, scooping up the notebook she’d thrown aside earlier, and ran her fingers through the underside of her hair, fluffing it back into place. She buttoned her pants and bent to check her appearance in the reflection of Michael’s sunglasses. “You’re on your way to improving your life.”
Michael leaned back on his hands. “Are you suggesting I don’t already have it all?” He gestured to the trees and the building like a remiss game show host.
“Stop it.” Breeze wrapped her hand around his left wrist and tugged him to his feet. “You’re starting to make me really worried. You’re finally going to college and you’re acting like you’re heading toward the gallows.”
“What do you want me to do, skip to class? It’s not that big of a deal.” He slid his wrist out of her grasp and pressed his palm to hers, curling his fingers.
“How can you say that? Don’t you ever want to get out of Kenton?”
“Yeah, and I will. Don’t worry about me.”
“I can’t help it.” She sighed as Michael slid their clasped hands in the pocket of his fraying suede coat, and they left their spot by Rightmer’s wall and walked toward Verget Hall’s entrance. “You’re a part of me, so worrying about you means I’m technically worrying about me.”
“At last, your selfless side is revealed.”
“How am I not selfless? I’m willing to wait for you to finish school. Come on. I’m really uncomfortable with you not having a plan for the future.”
“It’s my life,” he said with an edge to his voice.
“Yeah, and it could be part of mine.” She tightened her grip, nearly crushing their entangled fingers. “My dream can be big enough for the both of us, you know.”
Michael could hardly keep from laughing as they stepped through Verget Hall’s double doors. He didn’t bother to remove his sunglasses. “Sorry, I don’t see how I fit into your dream of becoming an airline stewardess. What am I supposed to do, help you pass out pillows and bags of peanuts?” They merged into the swarm of bustling students. “Glad to see you’ll be putting that ever
useful psychology degree to use, by the way.”
Breeze glared at him. “If you think my plans are so stupid, figure something else out, then.” She shook her hand free of his pocket. “And fast.”
She quickened her pace and walked a few steps ahead of him, adding a subtle yet effective twitch to her hips clearly designed to serve as a reminder of what he could be missing post graduation. Michael rolled his eyes in response, but couldn’t tear his gaze from her anyway.
While Breeze caught up with a few friends in front of their classroom and gave them all one-armed hugs, Michael leaned against the cool, painted cement-block walls opposite the girls and looked up and down the hallway. The cream tiled floor smelled of Murphy’s Oil and was already specked with clumps of dirt and a fresh layer of grit. Rushing to class, students zigzagged from one end of the hallway to the other, the double doors creaking open in protest and slamming shut.
A sudden onslaught of panic filled Michael’s chest. He couldn’t think of another place he least belonged. The frustration he’d felt during high school and thought he’d finally forgotten crept back to him. He took a deep breath and tried to remind himself that college would be effortless, much easier than his last four years spent trapped in the Kenton public school system. He was four years older—thus smarter—and in just two years he’d be a free man, able to do whatever he pleased, although he wasn’t quite sure what that was yet.
But graduation day had never felt more far away than it did right then.
“Ready?” Breeze asked him once she had finished socializing.
Michael shrugged his indifference. He let Breeze latch onto the front of his Allman Brothers t-shirt and tug him into the classroom where they’d both be fulfilling their history course requirement. He chose a seat in the back corner near the window while Breeze took the desk beside him, and he closed his eyes behind his sunglasses, hoping he’d be able to make it through what seemed like an already long school year.
The heavy wooden door to the classroom slammed shut, signaling the arrival of their teacher. Michael opened his eyes to see a blond-but-balding bespectacled man in his forties write Dr. Cantarella—presumably his name—on the chalkboard with a minimal amount of screeching noises.
Michael also happened to notice when the young woman sitting in front of Breeze crossed her legs beneath her short denim skirt, one of her clogs dangling from her toes. She looked vaguely familiar, but he was positive he would’ve remembered meeting her. Her hair was straight and dark, and her legs were the longest he’d ever seen. She twirled a pencil between her fingers and rested her chin in her other palm, tapping her nails absently against her lush, full mouth while watching Dr. Cantarella pass out the syllabus.
Michael heard Breeze clear her throat and turned to find her glowering at him. “See something you like?” Her voice dripped saccharine.
Before Michael could respond, the girl turned around, and her body gave a surprised start as her green eyes widened. A blush spread across her face and she quickly faced front again, the clog slipping off her foot completely to reveal pale pink toenails.
“Excuse me, gentleman in the back.” Dr. Cantarella gestured toward Michael, his hairy hand flitting like a butterfly. “I realize only surgery could probably remove those sunglasses from your face, but try your hand at it anyway. I want to be able to see your eyes sparkling with excitement over the Industrial Revolution.”
The whole room held its breath as the other students stared at Michael, who reluctantly removed his sunglasses. However, the aviators slipped from his fingers and skittered across the floor, landing next to the long-legged brunette’s shoe. He swallowed hard and stood slowly, his hips bumping into the desk. He could smell the girl’s perfume—something reminding him of oranges and sunshine—as he bent to retrieve the sunglasses, and he made sure to get a close look at her creamy legs before he stood. She didn’t look at him, but her face was bright red as she stared at the cover of her thick notebook. He took his seat, again bumping his hip off the desk.
“Jesus Christ,” he heard Breeze mutter.
“I didn’t realize, sir, that your sunglasses held the key to your grace,” Dr. Cantarella quipped as the other students tittered with laughter. “Obviously, you pose a safety hazard.”
“What can I say?” Michael flashed a grin. “I’m a dangerous guy to know.”
When the class came to a close, Breeze shut her history book and cast a look at Michael while shaking her head. “Well, that was charming.”
“What?”
“The little show you put on for us. You should’ve taken out accident insurance with the way you were falling all over yourself to get that girl’s attention.”
Michael looked to the brunette to see if she’d heard Breeze, but she was already halfway out the door, her notebook pressed tight against her chest. He turned back to Breeze and huffed an impatient sigh. “Breeze, don’t be like this.”
Breeze raised her hands. “Whatever, baby.” She slid out of her chair and sauntered out the door, not waiting for Michael to catch up.
* * * *
“Wait.” Shannon latched onto Valerie’s upper arm as she met her friend outside Verget Hall. “Do my eyes deceive me or is Michael Vartanian checking out your ass?”
“Shh.” A slow burn crept into Valerie’s face as she tugged Shannon away from the congregation of students gathered outside the building. “Do you want the whole world to hear?”
“Oh my God.” Shannon put a palm to her forehead, her eyes wild and wide as she looked behind them. “I have so many questions about this. What is he even doing here?”
“It’s a college campus, what do you think he was doing? Going to class.”
“He barely went to class when we were in high school, so excuse me if I’m a little mystified.” Shannon studied Valerie’s face. “And he certainly was scoping you out.”
Valerie’s heart tripped over its beat. “He wasn’t. You’re being silly.”
“No, you’re being naïve. Even if he’s a total loser who’s been wasting away at the Gas ’n Go, I still wish I was making Michael Vartanian’s jaw drop. He’s undeniably fuckable. Don’t you think?”
“Shannon Rink!”
“Don’t ‘Shannon Rink’ me, just answer the question. Isn’t he fuckable?”
“I don’t think that’s quite the way Browning would’ve put it.”
“Well, to me, Michael’s body is poetry. If this was a perfect world, and I wasn’t in love with Rick, and if Michael were interested in me, and if Michael wasn’t still dating that slut Kim Breza... Let’s just say a grand ol’ time would be had by all.”
Valerie tossed her friend a dubious look. “Those are a lot of ifs.”
“So what? Anything can happen in this crazy world.” Shannon winked. “So let’s have it. Who would you rather lose your virginity to—Michael Vartanian or Daniel Travato?”
“Shannon!” Valerie gave her friend a whack in the arm with her notebook. “I’m not talking about this with you right in the middle of the quad. Anyone can hear us.”
“Fine, we’ll talk about it at lunch then. Oh, wait, we can’t, since Daniel tricked you into hanging out with him under the guise of chatting about your summers.” Shannon’s lower lip jutted out before she broke into smile again. “I got class in Myle. I’ll see you at One Down tonight, okay?”
Valerie gave her friend a nod before walking the rest of the way to her sociology class, her body buzzing with self-consciousness. She couldn’t help feeling like everyone was staring at her. After all, long gone was the chubby, chipmunk-cheeked girl with the mousy hair. The diet and exercise program her aunt Linda—a nutritionist—had put together for her had certainly worked a miracle.
“Just you wait. You’re on the brink of changing your whole life,” Aunt Linda had promised her in early spring.
That was what her aunt always said when dispensing her advice, which ranged from what courses Valerie should take to getting a certain kind of haircut or dress in order
to be more stylish. Although Valerie had to admit her life hadn’t exactly been changed by any of her aunt’s previous suggestions, she realized that following the woman’s most recent regime was obviously a smart decision. After all, in all the years she had known him, Michael Vartanian had never looked at her the way he had that morning.
She knew it was likely he was just shallow. He probably didn’t really remember her at all, but she couldn’t help feeling giddy. She’d been drawing gazes from boys during the last leg of her summer vacation, but Michael was different. Although she’d never admit it to Shannon, she had noticed Michael Vartanian a long time ago when he first stepped foot into their eighth grade classroom with his tidy, Ken-doll haircut and dark eyes gleaming with both mischievousness and an inexplicable sadness.
Since then, his impish albeit clean-cut ways had melted away into something much more smoldering and almost downright forbidden. Nowadays, his mop of dark hair fell just above the collar of a faded t-shirt advertising a favorite band, and a pair of well-worn jeans hung off his hips. His eyes always hid behind those aviator sunglasses, but thankfully nothing could mask those lips: a full mouth that always looked used, like he’d been kissing someone all day. Maybe he had.
Valerie was aware of how warm her body had suddenly become, and her face flushed at knowing her rise in temperature was, in a way, Michael’s doing. She knew it was wasteful to spend her time thinking about him in such a way. There were plenty of reasons why a girl like her should never fall for someone like him. Besides, Michael had never bothered to even look her.
Until today.
Still, Valerie refused to entertain thoughts he might ever be interested in her, especially since she didn’t know what she’d do if she had him. She knew of Kim Breza—better known as Breeze—and couldn’t think of two people more different than her and the popular, talkative blonde, whose sexual appetite was no secret. She had heard Breeze broadcast her erotic escapades in the women’s bathroom, the hallway and just about everywhere else. Thus, Valerie knew Michael and his girlfriend had done practically everything under the sun during their on-again, off-again yet somehow enduring relationship.
