Markus leaned back in his chair, stretching out. Finally done with that damn paper, he thought. Standing, he walked around the room a couple of times, then decided that he really needed to get out. He had been cooped up in the damn room since coming back from class before lunch, and had not left since. Even the air tasted stale to him. But all his work was done, and he could do something else now.
Slipping into his running shoes, he walked outside, realizing for the first time that the sun was setting. Damn. He set off at a slow pace, building to his full speed as he headed down the hill that the college sat on. His feet beat out a steady rhythm as he traveled down the main street of the small town that had provided support to the school, turning to hit the trail along the river. River was actually a pretty strong term for the trickle of water, but what did he care? He was a business major, not environmental studies.
Coming back up on the backside of campus, he ran by the buildings letting out students from their evening classes, several dorms lit up by students inside, finally coming to a stop before his own home.
Probert Hall was the oldest dorm on campus, and it showed in the high ceilings and elaborate moldings. The whole building looked like a miniature Biltmore, but it was considered an honor to live there. To get in, you had to apply, show great academic promise, and all that horse shit. Everybody in the building at communal dinner, and professors came down to talk to the students, encourage their studies, and provide support.
He hated that whole part, but the academic opportunities truly were great, and the interactions with the professors' fun. A couple of Graduate Assistants and brand new instructors actually lived in one wing of the building, so if you had a question you could just walk down the hall.
One such GA was Andrea Clausen, who was sitting on the porch as he walked up. She was still dressed in her school clothes, as she called them, fashionable heels along with a dark skirt, and a matching top and jacket. She waved to the boy when he walked up, and he headed in her direction. Andrea was the TA for his Economics class, which he had slaved over all afternoon.
"What's up Markus?"
"Nothing much. Just trying to relax after finishing that paper."
"How did it go?"
"Pretty good. I think I got my idea across."
"I can look at it if you want."
"Really? Can I bring it by after dinner?"
"That'd be fine. Just bring it to dinner, we can take it up to my room and look at it afterwards."
Markus thanked her, then walked inside, needing a shower before they rung the bell for dinner. She watched him go, watched strong legs propel a narrow waist forward, watched his shoulders roll with each movement, and licked her lips. He would do nicely for her appetite. Very nicely.
Dinner was a form of controlled chaos, with people sitting at long tables that were clustered into three groups in the big hall. There was no assigned seating, but the instructors and GA's spread themselves evenly throughout the room for maximum interaction with the students. Markus had to wait until dinner was over to find Andrea, and she told him to meet her upstairs in a couple of minutes.
He killed the time reading over his paper one more time, trying to decide if his argument for property rights reform was really all that solid, then knocked on her door, and entered when she pulled the door open.
Unlike undergrad rooms, she lived by herself. So instead of two beds, there was a bed and a couch, and only one desk, which was bigger then his. She also had a TV stand, and a small dresser. He commented on her set up, and she laughed.
"It does have its advantages. Education pays off." She smiled, then took the paper and dropped onto the couch, waving with her hand for him to do the same. While she read, chewing on the end of a red marker, he took the time to look her over again.
Andrea was an attractive young woman, with brunette hair that reached halfway down her back, tanned skin, and lively brown eyes. Her small nose and prominent lips sat upon a face that smiled most of the time, a most pleasant smile. The rest of her body was not bad, either, with a nice chest, flat stomach, and legs that were well formed and toned. She had slipped out of her professional outfit from earlier, and the gray boy shorts she wore now hung close to her hips, with the pink t-shirt revealing her tummy, and the glittering navel ring she sported.
"Very good." Her voice interrupted his ogling of her body, and he wondered if he had been caught. "Couple small things. Here on the second page, you explain property reform in Chile, but you don't go anywhere with it." She pointed out the page, and he scooted closer to get a look. Scratching his head, he tried to remember what he had been trying to say, but he suddenly realized that he could see down her top, and that her tits were beckoning him.
Before his mouth dropped open he managed to catch himself, and said something about bad editing and Pinochet, and growth of poverty. She only smiled, flipped the page, and asked about establishment of the rule of law and property rights in Somalia, sending his brain spinning again.
She had scooted closer to him, and her body was now pressed against his, the only thing separating her tit from his arm being the thin fabric of her t-shirt. He could feel the heat, feel her breath across his skin, and smell her hair. His cock was rock hard in his pants.
Again he managed to mumble some answer, and again she only smiled. Standing slowly, she walked right in front of him, her ass shaking its way across the room as she picked up one of the classes textbooks, and came back over to him. He leaned back, hoping his boner did not show, as she stood right in front of him, flipping through the pages.
He was painfully hard now, his cock twitching in his pants, as he was almost perfectly eye level with her crotch, looking at it, his young mind racing in circles with sexual overload. She was sliding the pen she had been chewing on in and out of her lips in a subconscious demonstration of an obscene act, and he almost started sweating.
"Here, here it is." She turned so he could read the page, bending forward to bring it closer to him. His eyes tried to track her fingers, but her tits were right above the paper, looking down at him, and he could not resist but look back. He could see her hard nipples trying to poke through, and he was not strong enough to focus his concentration. So he only muttered in agreement, and promised himself to look it up later. There were only seven hundred pages in the book, how hard to find could one paragraph be?
She turned back around, but instead of replacing the book, she sat down, dropping into his lap. He almost moaned out as her firm ass pushed against his cock, but he just bit his tongue instead, as she flipped to another page, and pointed out another passage.
With all his mental might he focused on the written words, trying to string them together into coherent sentences, trying to make them make sense, trying to pull the lesson here, but his mind failed him as all blood was recalled from one head, and sent to another. She was subtly shifting herself, moving around on his lap, and it felt as if she was jacking him off.
He was about to lose it when she stood up, placed the book back in its place, picked up his essay, and handed it to him.
"Any other questions?"
"No, aahhh. No. Thank you." He stood slowly, not sure if he might lose it yet or not, as he walked to the door. She was saying something about class tomorrow, and he nodded. The door seemed to be calling for him, his escape. Was it only him, or was it hot in here? He did not have the moisture in his mouth to say anything, then he was at the door, pulling it open.
"See you tomorrow." She smiled at him again, that million-watt smile that seemed to just kick him into neutral, make him stand still and smile back. He felt her hand on his ass, and it felt like fire, as he almost fled her room.
He did not know it, but behind him she closed the door slowly, locking it. Walking back over to the couch, she sat where he had sat moments before, closing her eyes as she slipped her hand into her shorts. The poor boy had been about to blow his load, it had been so delicious. Her fingers found her clit, and she squeezed herself, her mind reeling with the feeling, and the sensation of power she had held over him. Yes, he would do nicely
The Econ room was an efficient modern classroom, with the tables set up in a square, so that everybody could look at each other. Everybody came into the room, sat down wherever they felt like, and then pulled out their laptops, one of the things that the school was big into. The wireless network that covered the whole campus was an integral part of this class.
After everybody logged in, they would download the notes for the class for that day, unless you were a super-student, then you already had them. Markus did not consider himself a super-student, but when he checked his emails in the morning, he would normally go ahead and get all his notes for classes for that day.
So he slipped into his chair with time to spare, pulled out the Dell, folded it open, and waited for his log into come up. He used XP, and had two profiles set up on his machine, one called Student, one called Markus. Student was what he used during the day, and he had banished all forms of game or other entertainment from it. Otherwise he had found that he would just sit in some boring finance class and try to conquer the world all day.
Professor Duren was along shortly, as always a couple of minutes late. But his students did not mind, he was a great professor, and once he did come into the room, class got going. Everybody emailed in his or her papers, and Andrea came into let them know that she had gotten them all. She smiled at Markus, and he instantly got hard again, then she walked out of the room.
The professor was at the huge dry erase board that covered one side of the room, drawing out graphs and figures that somehow related to the class when Markus realized that the TTC icon had popped up. TTC was short for Tiger Talk & Chat, the schools instant messenger that every student had to install. It was meant to allow students to study in various places and still talk about what they were doing, but in actuality it had become a way for students to pass notes in class without having to kill trees.
He tapped on the little bubble that had popped up, and saw that he had a message from "Andrea Clausen," her name displayed prominently in red letters. Student names came in blue letters. Everybody had two accounts, one to be used in class and other formal occasions, with your own name. Then everybody had their 'chat' names, which allowed anonymity when posting on school message boards and complaining about the faculty and the food in the cafeteria, and were meant to be used as an alternative to services like AIM and MSN Messenger, which the school administration feared would stream viruses into the servers.
He looked to his left and right for a second, but the students were either enraptured by the professor, or having their own IM conversations. He double clicked the icon, watched the chat box pop up.
Andrea: 'Hey little boy.' He slumped back in his chair. What did that mean?
Markus: 'Hey.' Standard response, he thought. Was this about his paper? Somehow he didn't think so.
Andrea: 'Class boring?' He almost laughed at that one, but controlled himself. It was a common game amongst students to see if you could get somebody to laugh or respond in some outward manner to something you IM'ed them. There were some seriously disgusting and disturbing pictures making the rounds that way.
Markus: 'Naturally. Your office any more fun?'
Andrea: 'Not really. Reading peoples essays.' There was a short lull, and he used the time to check if Duren had put anything of substance up yet, but he was safe. The man took a good twenty to thirty minutes of the seventy-five minute class period just to get warmed up.
Motion on his screen caught his attention, and he watched as she sent him some kind of file. McAfee flashed in the bottom corner, telling him that she had not tried to virus-bomb him, and he double clicked it. A pair of ridiculously high-heeled boots popped up, made of black leather, with a zipper down the side.
Andrea: 'You think I would look good in those?'
Markus: 'I think you would look good in anything?'
Andrea: 'How about nothing?'
