by Lolita Lopez
Like a belly dancer, she slowly gyrated while running her palms over the full curves of her breasts and along the gentle slope of her ribcage. Her fingers danced across her belly and hooked into the sides of her skimpy black shorts. With a forceful tug, Trini broke the Velcro side seams and crotch. Excited cheers and whistles resounded. A group of frat boys fought over the fabric scraps raining down upon them.
Trini strutted confidently along the ledge, showing off her gleaming, toned legs and the shockingly scant swatch of gold material covering her immaculately waxed sex. A cool breeze buffeted her body, highlighting the dampness of the material pressed up against her cunt and hidden between the cheeks of her ass. Her body hummed with arousal, fed off the vibrant energy of the crowd. The hardened peaks of her breasts poked against the thin material constraining them. Trini wanted nothing more than to slip her fingers beneath her g-string and strum her stiff clit.
But it wouldn’t take much to send her hurling over the edge—literally and figuratively.
Always careful, Trini balanced her sensual dance moves with the utmost caution. One wrong step and she’d tumble five stories. The injuries she’d likely survive but the humiliation of having her identity discovered would be an injury beyond convalescence. She doubted MIT would be very keen to enroll and fund a grad student embroiled in such a scandal at her previous school. And yet Trini couldn’t stop herself. The risk heightened the allure.
A quick flick unsnapped the front closure of her bra, freeing her breasts to the hungry eyes of those gathered below. Tiny painted renditions of the university’s logo concealed her nipples and areolas. Arms clasped in front, Trini hopped and wiggled, giving the crowd exactly what they wanted. Her bouncing breasts and jiggling ass incensed them. They hooted and hollered and whistled and begged for more.
Never one to disappoint, Trini turned her back on them and started to bend forward, granting them an exceptional view of her pert ass. Fingers on the waistband of her g-string, she prepared to teasingly remove her panties. She couldn’t wait to see the boys and girls below fight over them.
“COPS! COPS!”
Trini snapped to attention. Down below, the crowd scattered in a noisy panic. Not wasting a second, Trini leapt to the roof, slapped the stop button on the boom box, grabbed her backpack and jammed the stereo down inside. She fled toward the door and paused just long enough to snatch up the small wood wedge propping the door open before racing into the narrow stairwell. The door slammed behind her as she stuffed the wood into the slight opening in her backpack. She sprinted down the first two flights of stairs, swinging herself around the sharp corners, her gloves sliding against the metal rails.
Flashlight beams ricocheted around the stairwell a few floors down. Trini immediately stopped and headed back up to the fourth floor. She quietly opened the door and held it against her fingertips as she gently closed it behind her. Safe inside the hallway lined with administrative offices, Trini sprinted along the corridor, her bare feet slapping against rough commercial carpet.
Her mind reeled as she tried to work out her best course of action now that the campus cops were hot on her heels. Routes one through three were out of the question. That left her with one choice. Trini’s hand dove into her backpack and frantically fished for the polyester lanyard. She jerked it out and skidded to a halt in front of the first door she reached, not caring whose office it was. Trini tried to jab the master key she’d nicked a few semesters back into the handle. It wouldn’t fit.
“Shit! Fuck!” Trini’s irritated whisper pierced the stillness. Refusing to waste any more time, she moved to the next door. Again, the key proved useless. It appeared the locks had been changed since her theft of the key.
Trini glanced around anxiously. She spotted the main staircase heading back up to the fifth floor. It was her only chance. She couldn’t go back down since the fuzz was sure to have cordoned off all the exits. If she could just get upstairs, she might be able to find some place to hide. Hopefully. Maybe.
As she made a mad dash for the stairs, Trini couldn’t squash the grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. A hysterical laugh tickled the back of her throat. Bizarre as it sounded, she actually enjoyed the real sense of danger. Had everything gone as planned, it would have been exciting. This was exhilarating. All her well laid plans were going to hell in a hand basket. The threat of capture was a reality. Rather perversely, she found that invigorating.
Taking the steps two at a time, Trini tried to outpace the cops she could hear thundering up the stairs, not far behind. Hoping for a break, she tried every door knob she passed, praying just one person had forgotten to lock their door at the end of a long workday. Her gaze darted from side to side, desperate for a hiding place. Even with all the furniture and potted plants decorating the floor housing the university president’s office, there were no options.
Suddenly, the door to the president’s office jerked open. A pair of arms shot out of the darkened room and wound around Trini’s waist. She stifled a shocked scream, unwilling to alert the police to her position even as the stranger dragged her into the office. A hand clapped over her mouth. The door closed. An unseen hand locked it from the inside.
“Don’t make any noise, Trini.”
Trini recognized the Australian accent. Her clamoring pulse slowed just a bit. But what was Dr. Menzies doing in the president’s office? His office was halfway across campus in the bowels of the physics department’s main building. And, more importantly, how the hell did he know it was her?
He palmed her waist and spun her around. Trini’s breasts rasped against the stiff cotton and hard buttons of his shirt as he pressed her back to the door. She gasped at the cold sensation of the wood against her hot, sweat-slicked skin. Trapped there, between his lean body and the door and the cops searching the building, she felt only the thrill of danger and not the fear. She flushed with desire and excitement.
When his fingers skimmed her face and traced her jaw, Trini gulped with apprehension. The room was dark but the slatted blinds allowed just enough moonlight and ambient light to cast a silvery haze of illumination. Through the slits of her mask, their gazes clashed, his pale blue irises against her deep brown ones. His blond hair looked carelessly mussed, framing his incredibly handsome face with boyish loose curls.
He whisked away the mask and dropped it to the floor. Trini’s tummy flip-flopped at the sensation of his fingertips caressing her face. His thumb moved across her lower lip, pulling it down gently, grazing his fingertip against her teeth. A shock of heat pierced Trini’s chest.
There it was: that spark of attraction Trini had experienced all those months earlier when they’d first been introduced by her mathematics mentor. As a professor of theoretical physics, Dr. Menzies often utilized undergrads from the math department in his research. They’d worked together for a semester, a stretch of weeks where Trini found it increasingly more difficult to deny her raging lust for him. She often imagined he felt the same. There were too many accidental touches, too many endearing smiles, and too much teasing banter.
And now here they were, pressed belly to belly, pulses pounding, gazes locked.
“How, Dr. Menzies?” Trini dared to break the silence.
An impish grin curved his lips. He bent his head and ghosted his lips across the small cluster of scars along her collarbone. She’d earned those as a freshman in high school when her dolt of lab partner had blown up a test tube. Scorching glass shards had made easy work of penetrating her t-shirt and tearing into her skin.
Trini shivered as Dr. Menzies pressed his lips to hear ear. “You’d be amazed what detail a person familiar with photo analyzing algorithms can bring out from grainy pics posted online. And it’s Simon now.”
Trini smiled, thoroughly impressed with his detective work. He’d probably spotted the scar during one of their evening number-crunching sessions. She’d often worn tank tops with her jeans and bared those scars without much thought as to their ability to identify her. Thank goodne
ss the campus police seemed devoid of any technological proficiency.
She yearned to touch him but her hands still grasped the strap of her backpack. As if sensing her need, Simon took the bag from her hand and gently set it aside, careful not to make any noise. He removed the gloves encasing her hands and dropped them too. For a long moment, they simply stared at one another. Unable to contain her lust, Trini pounced on him. Simon groaned into her mouth, his tongue searching for hers. The ensuing kisses weren’t particularly dignified or finessed but hungry and sloppy and desperate. They clutched and groped, Trini’s fingers fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, Simon’s hands kneading her breasts, tweaking her nipples.
With a slight shove, Simon pushed Trini’s back to the door. He dropped to his knees and grabbed the tiny elastic band of her g-string. As he jerked it down, Trini widened her stance and then lifted her left foot. The g-string remained hooked around her right ankle. Simon’s knuckles brushed downward over the bare lips of her pussy. She shivered at the contact.
Without warning, Simon delved into her dripping cunt, swiping the length of her slit with his pointed tongue. Trini stifled a surprised moan, now only vaguely aware of the other voices in the building. Simon clasped the back of her right knee and guided it up and over his shoulder. Trini hooked her left knee in the same way.
Suspended on his shoulders, she sifted her fingers through his soft blond hair and enjoyed his jaw-dropping cunnilingus skills. His thumbs held her open, baring the dewy petals of her sex. He lapped gently at her clit then drifted lower and circled the opening there. When his tongue dipped inside, tasting her, Trini hissed. The velvet sensation of his tongue drawing circles against her inflamed clit made her toes curl. He alternated delicious swirls with pointed flicks and sometimes sucked her pleasure button between his lips, heightening the sensation even more. There was no hesitation or uncertainty from Simon. He ate at her cunt with wicked abandon, lavishing every pink inch with attention. Trini’s thighs tightened. Her calves flexed against his back. She was going to come—and hard.
Suddenly, a pair of male voices sounded outside the door. Trini expected Simon to pull back, to halt and nervously wait it out but he didn’t. Instead he went wild on her clit. Her palms flew to the door, nails clawing at the wood. Teeth biting into her lower lip, she tried to fight an impending orgasm. When the door handle rattled, a quiver of fear shot through her. That was all it took. An orgasm crashed down over her, swallowing her in its intensity. She convulsed silently, breaths arrested in her throat, mouth open but no noise issuing forth.
The police moved along, and Trini slowly descended from the pinnacle of her orgasm. Simon continued his leisure licks until she slipped her left knee from his shoulders and awkwardly regained her balance. Squatting down, she slipped an arm around his waist and pulled him close for a kiss. She loved the taste of her cunt on a lover’s lips. To her, there was no moment more intimate than the one shared after oral sex.
Later, when Trini remembered their illicit tryst, she couldn’t quite recall how they’d ended up on the floor, Simon supine beneath her. His unbuttoned shirt fell away from his body, revealing one hell of a sexy washboard tummy. Trini nipped and licked at his rippled abs and surprisingly sensitive nipples. She unbuckled his belt and lowered the fly on his trousers. The cotton boxers beneath surprised her since she’d always pegged him as a boxer-briefs sort of guy.
As she tugged his trousers and boxers down around his hips, she heard the faintest crinkling noise. Curious, she dug in his left pocket and discovered a condom. Holding it up, she smirked. “Rather presumptuous, aren’t we?”
He sat up and tangled his hand in her hair before kissing her. “Just prepared.”
Trini laughed and shoved on his shoulders, forcing his back to the carpet. She scooted down his body until her lips were just centimeters from his erect cock. Silver light splashed across their bodies and brought attention to the shimmering drop of pre-cum crowning the head of his penis. Desperate for his taste, she gathered it upon the tip of her tongue. Simon trembled at her initial touch. Power vibrated through Trini.
With a broad swipe, she licked the length of his erection. She ran her tongue across his tight sac and pulled first his left then right ball into her mouth. His salty taste and musky scent aroused her. She pooled a bit of saliva on her tongue and allowed it to dribble onto the head of his penis. Licking her palm, Trini slicked her skin before wrapping her fingers around his thick cock and stroking loosely. She took just the top of him into her mouth. Her tongue swirled as she applied suction. Using her hand and mouth, Trini worked Simon into a frenzied state. His hips pumped. His fingers clenched and unclenched. She paid attention to his body language, careful to keep him aroused but never letting him get too close.
“Enough,” Simon interrupted, panting with need. “Fuck me. Ride me.”
Trini didn’t have to be told twice. She frantically patted the carpet for the condom and quickly handed it over once she’d found it. Hands on his chest, Trini balanced over his sheathed erection, her feet planted firmly on the ground. She reached between them to guide his stiff rod into her wet heat and sunk down in one breathless move. Both groaned with pleasure.
Not wanting to waste one second of their interlude, Trini immediately bounced up and down on his cock. With each stroke, she bottomed out on him. The little pleasure/pain shock of his dick bumping her womb intensified her pleasure. Each strike of her clit against his pelvis rekindled the embers of arousal hidden deep within her. Like a well-oiled piston, she rode him. Simon caressed her body and played with her breasts. He pinched the hardened peaks of her breasts, sending electric shockwaves straight to her weeping cunt.
Frantic for more contact, Trini shifted her legs so that her knees rested on either side of his thighs. She bent down and captured his mouth while rocking her pussy and clit back and forth. The crisp hairs covering his chest teased her nipples. He latched onto the sensitive curve of her throat and sucked hard, no doubt intent upon marking her. His possessive act made her even hotter.
When he released her skin with a noisy pop, Trini sat back and rested her hands on his thighs. The change in the angle of penetration was just what she needed. With each movement, his cock slid against her engorged g-spot. She loved that sharply intense sensation. Trini moaned at the feeling of Simon’s thumb against her clit. Her pussy clenched as the coil in her belly tightened. Frenzied, she sat up, her hands on her own breasts now, and went wild on Simon’s cock. His thumb flicked with increasing speed.
“Come for me, Trini,” he gruffly ordered.
And she did. Wave after wave of rapturous pleasure inundated her writhing body. Simon gripped her waist and snapped his hips, pounding his cock into her soaking hole again and again and again. With a strangled growl, he came, jerking once, twice, and then holding perfectly still, his hips still elevated, cock buried inside her.
When he finally relaxed, Trini tumbled off of him and rolled onto her back. No longer lust drunk, she felt the burning ache on her kneecaps. Rug burns, she realized with a wince. Well worth the price of such a torrid affair she reasoned. She could only imagine how she must have looked at that moment, hair wild, skin flushed. Thoroughly debauched, she supposed.
Out of the corner of her eye, Trini noticed Simon dealing with the aftermath of their copulation. She hoped he’d get rid of it somewhere outside of the president’s office. No doubt it would raise eyebrows if a condom was found in the old curmudgeon’s trashcan.
Simon climbed over Trini, pinning her to the floor with his weight. He stared into her eyes, as if gauging her response to him, to the scorching sex they’d just shared. Starting at the tip of her nose, he kissed his way down her body, pausing at her toes and working his way back up again. He pressed playful kisses up her thighs and around her belly button. She toyed with his hair as he placed his cheek to her tummy and wrapped his arms around her waist. They stayed that way for a while, both enjoying the gentle intimacy of the moment.
Soon, reality
struck. Simon helped her stand and they went about the business of righting their clothing. Trini pulled a pair of yoga shorts, a tee, and flip-flops from her backpack and quickly dressed. She grabbed her gloves and mask from the floor and stuffed them into her backpack. She glanced around in search of her g-string but couldn’t find it. A movement caught her attention. Simon had his back to her so he didn’t see her watching him slip the g-string into his pocket. She shrugged and zipped up her bag. If he wanted a keepsake, she wasn’t going to stop him.
They stood awkwardly at the door. Crazy as it sounded, Trini wasn’t one to indulge in one-night stands or casual sex. Taking her clothes off for strangers was one thing. Sleeping with them was quite another. Was that what this was? A one-off? Or something else?
“So,” Simon said eventually.
“So,” Trini repeated uncertainly.
“I suppose I won’t see you again until convocation.”
Her chest constricted with disappointment. “Probably not.”
“And after?”
Trini detected the hopefulness in his voice. She swallowed hard. “After?”
“Maybe you might like to have dinner or something?”
Excitement bubbled in the pit of her tummy. “Dinner sounds nice—and something too.”
Simon grinned, seemingly relieved. “Good. Great.” He unlocked the door and poked his head out into the hall. “Coast is clear. Let’s go.”
They walked down the dark hall, hands and arms bumping. Simon interlaced their hands. Trini marveled at the absolute oddness of this night. She’d expected to go out with a bang but this was just out of this world.
“You know I fancy a bit of exhibitionism myself.”
Trini glanced up at Simon. “That so?”
He nodded. “I’ve got this bay window at my house that would make the perfect backdrop for a naughty little shadow puppet show.”
Trini’s belly clenched with excitement. “Oh really?
