For a moment, all is still. My breath catches in my chest as my cock continues to throb in my hand. My mind is foggy with the lingering orgasm and your bright blue eyes locked on mine. I freeze under your gaze and just hope you don’t scream.
Your eyes dart to my crotch and your jaw drops in longing. You tremble, your legs going weak, and drop limply on the ladder. Those blue eyes roll back in your head and you bite your lip as you throw your head back again. You manage to keep your feet on the ladder and your hands wrapped around the handles, one still quite slippery, and hang your ass low.
I’m still able to see everything up your skirt. Your round ass and that frustrating strip of thong between your legs. You gasp and squirt pours through your panties. Apparently, the sight of me catching you and jerking off with you has sent you into another orgasm.
Panting, you rest your face against your arm and look at me with heavy eyelids. I’m dumbfounded. Your performance and raw reaction are more than I could have ever imagined. I have to know who you are.
The door handle clatters, startling both of us. I jump to my feet and zip my pants, backing down the aisle to hide. A dainty brunette fumbles with the door as she struggles to open it. Once through, she stomps around the basement before turning down this aisle.
“Have you seen a girl around here?” she asks, ignorant of the aftermath on every surface around us.
I turn to point you out, but you and your book are gone. Without a word or phone number, you’ve vanished. I don’t miss the squirt sprayed all around the aisle, so I know you were real, but my heart drops, thinking I might not find you again.
Your roommate walks off to look for you somewhere else, and I quickly find the book I was coming for. I check out and hurry back to my dorm, hoping no one notices the cum on my leg.
I finish my paper after struggling to focus, too distracted by what I’ve seen and done. After I submit it, I scour the student directory for you. After half an hour and three passes through every student attending the university, I give up in despair.
Maybe you aren’t a student and are just some girl using the archives as a sneaky place to masturbate. As I lean back in my chair and stretch my neck, my crotch hits the drawer of my desk. Thinking about you has gotten me rock-hard again.
My roommate is off at class so I have some time to get off again. I lock the door and pull up a site to watch. Whipping it out, I can smell the remnants from the library. This smell has never bothered me, but now I’m wondering if I stank when I was near you and if you noticed.
For now, I ignore it and start to jack off. No matter what I watch or how much I focus, I can’t make any progress. After an hour, knowing my roommate will be back soon, I close my computer and tuck myself away. Frustration seeps into my veins. Did you ruin me? And am I now going to suffer because I might never find you again?
Wrestling with these thoughts, I decide to get food and head to the cafeteria. Despite my inability to cum earlier, my dick won’t calm down. It presses against my belly, pinned under my waistband. My usual attire, including a sweatshirt, is enough to give me peace knowing no one should be able to see, but I still avoid raising my arms too much as I get to the door.
To my surprise, it’s night already. I shake my head and stuff my hands in my pockets. I hate living so far north. It gets dark at four in the afternoon and the sun doesn’t come until nine in the morning.
When I get to the cafeteria, my heart sinks. It’s closed. I check my phone and realize it’s hours later than I thought. I run my hands over my head and sigh. I must have taken a lot longer to write my paper than I thought. Now, my only option for dinner this late would be going out for a burrito.
Unfortunately for me, I don’t have a car, which means I get to walk a mile in forty-degree weather, hungry and horny. Fuck my life.
To save myself some misery, I cut through buildings on campus to enjoy brief warmth and steel myself against the cold. It’s an indirect way to get to the taco shop, but it’s worth it if the leaking on my dickhead doesn’t freeze.
As I exit the last building and can see the streetlights illuminating the way to dinner, I decide to cut through the student parking lot. I peer longingly at the cars lined up and down the aisles. Most are beaters since we are just university students, but a few nicer cars are mixed in. Personally, I like mid-two-thousands tuner cars. I watched a lot of Fast and Furious over the years.
A specific car from the most recent film sits in the far corner, outside the reach of the security lights, and tucked under some low-hanging branches. It’s not fixed up like in the movie, but it’s the base car, and one car I’d like to get as my first.
Intrigue overpowers my hunger for a moment, and I jog over to inspect. It’s even the same color as the one driven in the movie by my favorite character.
As I approach, I notice something odd. The car is rocking from side to side. The lights are off and I can’t hear the engine cooling, so it hasn’t been driven recently. I creep closer, now feeling like a creep.
The windows are all steamed up and someone is really moving inside. I crouch low to avoid being seen as several terrible scenarios run through my head. I get right up against the car and slowly rise to peek through the window.
It’s you. Riding the gearshift like there’s no tomorrow. I bite my fist to stop myself from cheering in triumph. Though watching you now, you might not have even noticed.
I can’t see the action under your skirt, but it’s clear you’re loving it. My cock swells in my waistband and tingles at the sight of you. Oh, so now you’re good to go?
I really want to join you like before, but I’m not inside a car. I can’t risk getting caught like this. The proximity alone may qualify as a crime.
As hard as I am, I pull my eyes away from you to check your car. Of course, you would drive this car. You’re probably a dominant, too.
Tires crunching over the pavement warn me just before the headlights cross over your dancing car. I’m able to leap into the bushes to hide before the light falls on me, and to my absolute joy, I see a student parking sticker on your bumper.
To my great horror, you’re pressed up against the window, staring at me with as much shock as me. I must have pushed off on your car as I leaped out of the way. The headlights approach down this far aisle and before you and I can officially meet; I slip through the bushes and sprint toward the taco shop that will close in twenty minutes.
