"You broke his fucking arm!" She yelled, pushing out of the apartment into the dimly lit hallway. It had gotten late, and emerging from the celebration made the corridor feel eerily empty.
"He was touching you!" A tall blonde shoved through the door, pursuing her down the staircase. She made no move to lose him, but pushed on all the same.
"We won the match, John has a fucking ego, and I know how to take care of myself!" she turned quickly, just stopping herself from running into him.
They stopped abruptly, chests heaving from the pursuit. She could feel how wild she must have looked, her hair falling out of its ponytail, fire in her eyes from the fight. He wasn't wrong, they'd all had plenty to drink, and John got a little too handsy with her.
"Most girls just say thanks," he mumbled, finally gaining some humility now that they were removed from the situation.
"Thanks." she snapped, still glaring at him.
The situation changed faster than her mind could follow. One minute, he was meters away, approaching with apprehension, and the next, the air between them flickered with electricity. As he came closer, she felt the space around her close in, give away, until it was only them. And for the life of her, she couldn't remember why she was angry, only that her head was fuzzy, and she had never noticed the way his face softened when he looked at her.
"Are you okay?" he whispered, so close now that the air from his mouth brushed against her forehead. She shivered, recognizing this moment for what it was. It was her last year of college, and she was not a virgin. She had been in this moment before, the calm before the storm, but never like this. Never with her friend, the unsaid burning in the last inches between their skin.
"No," her voice escaped, a hoarse sound from deep within her throat. Before she could stop herself, her lips closed the distance between them, and she could feel him tense in response. It was only a brief moment, and then he was spinning her, forcing her back against the wall of the corridor.
The kiss was not a light reassurance. It was grounding. She felt a need unlike anything she'd known flow through her, forcing a fire into her movements that she hadn't thought possible. Everywhere his stupid lips touched her sang, her skin cold where he left teasing kisses. She moaned as his teeth grazed her neck, a firm touch that she didn't anticipate. He pulled back in response, eyes blazing with the same passion he'd had as he came to her rescue moments before.
She was moving before she knew where she was going, pulling him back into the apartment. At this point, she had forgotten whose house it was. Nobody noticed as she dragged him into the nearest room. It looked to be someone's office.
"Here?" He scoffed, letting his fingers linger on her hips as she locked the door behind her.
She lifted herself onto the desk, biting her lip and pulling him close in response to his questioning. She dug her ankles into the backs of his legs, pinning him to her. With a shift of her hips, she was able to grind herself against him, finding his already hard erection pressing against her. A gasp escaped her and he seized it, pressing his lips against hers and sliding his tongue in easily. He groped at her sloppily, but she didn't care. She only felt a growing need to be closer. And they just had so much clothes on. She pulled her jersey over her head, still gritty from the game. He didn't care. His hands were too busy trailing patterns along her bare skin.
She reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling it up in a fruitless attempt to get closer. He laughed into her mouth before leaning back, removing the top. And suddenly he was so warm against her, his arms pulling her close in an embrace that she ached for. She sighed in his arms, kissing him more softly now. But she noted to herself that she didn't want soft assurance right then. She wanted him. So she let her fingers trail along his stomach and to his shorts, tracing the outline of his straining cock. A deep moan rumbled through her lips from his, and she grinned, stroking him again.
Then he was clumsy for reasons other than the beer she tasted on him. His need flowed into hers, and his hands were slipping into the hem of her shorts, pulling them down. And then his fingers were slipping between her folds.
He was slow, and torturous. He dragged his fingers along her slit, and traced the wetness around her.
"You're soaked," he whispered in her ear, and it shook her to the core. There were no doubts that it was all because of him.
"Then you'd better do something about it," She giggled back to him. And he grinned mischievously. Then her friend trailed kisses down her neck, pulling her shorts and panties off. She tensed in anticipation. Nobody had ever done this well for her before. No man had ever had his face so close to her shaking thighs, and she could barely contain herself. He gently spread her legs, taking her in.
"You are the most fucking beautiful thing I've ever seen," he looked up at her, naked and panting on a stranger's desk, spread for him. She knew he was lying, because the most beautiful sight she'd seen was his face between her legs. He neared her, and shivered from his breath against her wetness. His lips lightly brushed her, sending a shock through her body.
Her excitement was built so high in her head that it didn't take long. Despite what most men thought, external stimulation really was the way to go. And holy hell did he know what he was doing. She felt the slow build inside of her as he licked her from bottom to top, hard and slow, and her thighs clenched around him. He flicked his tongue quickly just above her clit where the hood was beginning to retract. She moaned loudly at the movement, pulling away from the intense sensation, but he held tight to her thighs, holding her at his mercy. He was a fast learner, she reasoned. He found his goal quickly, positioning his mouth so that she felt the movement throughout her whole body, earning him a squirming, panting woman. She was so close, and told him that, throwing her head back as she grinded against his mouth, searching for a deeper friction.
She felt herself close now, panting and grabbing her sheets with her second hand.
"I'm gonna, I'm gonna," she whined, grinding shamelessly against his mouth, clutching the desk for dear life.
"Then do it," he murmured quietly against her, his voice vibrating in her core. And that was her undoing.
