Study Brea

Author's Note: I'm going to take a moment to recap, for two reasons. (1) A few of you may have skipped the first part just to get to the sex scene which I said would be in this chapter. (2) It's been a solid month since I posted the first chapter, and the more patient readers would probably like to be reminded what's happened so they don't have to re-read.

Vicky and Jonas have been dating for six months, but most of that time they've had to keep it secret under threat of them both being expelled from the university, on top of the possibilities of Jonas losing his job and Vicky being deported back to the UK. To make matters worse, in the past month Jonas has been neglecting Vicky's emotional and sexual needs in order to meet the demands of his graduate thesis. He's aware that she resents that and he's afraid she might break up with him.

And that pretty much catches all you guys up. On with the show! Enjoy!

#

I resolved to let fate decide. I continued working on my thesis, hoping that if our love was meant to be, it would endure and guide us through this sexual and emotional wasteland.

It was a week after I'd had to turn down Vicky in the classroom, and I hadn't seen her since, not even on the weekend. I was just too busy. The only contact we'd made was through some idle texting and Snapchatting that amounted to nothing and only reaffirmed the distance between us.

There was still a lot of work to do, and I was low on time—it was just a few hours till midnight. I had to rewrite the last few pages of a section that analyzed Lovecraft's use of old decrepit architecture in his settings. Milton sympathized that it was tough going, so he had loaned me his office for the past few days. It was more preferable to my shared cubicle in the grad student's bullpen, and the library too, which at this time of the semester was packed full of students doing the same thing I was—working on their term papers. Milton's office had all the reference materials I needed, his computer had undeterred access to JSTOR and other premium indexes, and to top it all off, it was private and secluded deep in the English Department building, with a coffee machine three doors down the hallway in the lounge. Instrumental music helped me concentrate so I had my earphones in and was completely engrossed by my work.

A shadow suddenly appeared over the keyboard and someone's hands grabbed my shoulders.

I jumped out of my chair, startled half to death.

"Whoa there," the owner of the shadow said. It was Vicky.

My heart was still pounding madly in my throat, but I tried to calm it down. "Sorry, I didn't hear you come in."

"Yeah, I saw that you had your headphones on," Vicky said. "What were you listening to?"

"

Death Note

score."

Vicky giggled, something very uncharacteristic of her lately. "Yeah, mix that ominous music with Lovecraft and you certainly have a creepy atmosphere." She looked down at the empty coffee cups on the desk. "Coffee jitters don't help."

I couldn't help but notice her demeanor. "Are you high?" I asked.

Vicky shrugged. "Meh... not even half-baked." Meaning she'd already had a puff or two.

But as relieved as I was to see her, and to see her in such a good mood, I couldn't help but be cautious. I closed the door to the office, but not before looking out into the hallway to insure we were alone. This late, the custodians were long gone, but the campus police did random patrols. "Why are you here, Vicky?"

"Rebecca's

'hosting a guest'

in our dorm—" She used air quotes, so it obviously meant her roommate was having sex. "—the Kappas are hogging the common room, and everything else is closed, so I just thought I'd pay you a visit."

"You know better than to do that, Vick. It's too risky."

"It's the middle of the night. We'll be okay, no one's going to see us together."

"The campus police—" I began.

"—have their hands full with the baseball regionals tonight."

"The CCTV..."

Vicky rolled her eyes. "They purge the records every week, and they don't look at them unless they have a reason to. They don't give a ruddy fuck who we are. Common sense. Jonas, would you relax, please?"

She took a step toward me, and for the first time I realized what she was wearing. A pleated dress, all black with matching Toms. Her nipples—perpetually erect because they were pierced—were poking through the thin cotton fabric, indicating she wasn't wearing a bra.

Vicky was no stranger to dresses, but she didn't wear them often. There had to be an occasion. "Why are you here, Vicky?" I asked her again.

"I told you," she said, hooking a finger around a button on my shirt and looking coyly into my eyes. "I came to see you. I miss you..."

Despite her lighter spirits at the moment, it still broke my heart to hear her say

I miss you

—which she had been saying a

lot

for the past few months; I heard it almost as much as

I love you

. "Look, I miss you too, but I have a ton of work to do. And I have to finish it all tonight."

"See, I heard different. Rebecca said the grad theses and dissertations aren't due for another two weeks."

"Due in two weeks for the committees. I still have to turn in my final draft to my advisor for review. That deadline is in the morning, and I still have a few pages left to rewrite. I'm gonna be up all night."

Vicky perked up. "But that means that you're going to be free for the weekend, right?"

"I'm actually going to take that time to catch up on grading papers..."

"Such bollocks," Vicky grumbled, letting go of my shirt and lightly punching me in the chest.

"I know, I'm sorry." I withdrew from Vicky and took a sip of my coffee. It had gone tepid but I didn't care because I needed the boost. Just talking about deadlines was stressing me out more than Vicky's presence. I took off my glasses and rubbed the bridge of my nose.

"You really need to relax, sweetie," Vicky said. "And that's the other reason why I'm here." She reached into her canvas tote and pulled out a glass pipe and a little pill bottle of marijuana buds.

"I can't afford to get high right now; I need to concentrate."

Milton had a small sofa in his office, for guests and reading (we English majors did a lot of that), so Vicky sat down on it and started prepping the pipe.

"This is really mellow stuff, I swear. Really low key," Vicky said. "It'll calm you down. Being chill and slow-baked will do more good for your concentration than being sober and stressed out—trust me, babe."

I had to admit she had a point. "Okay... Just a hit or two, I guess."

"That's my boy..." Vicky smiled and patted the cushion next to her.

I pulled out my zippo—which I always had on me—and took a seat next to her. Vicky immediately handed me the packed pipe. I lit up and took a moderate hit. It smelled heavy and tasted really sour, which I didn't expect. I exhaled, coughing softly a few times. "I thought you said this was light stuff. What's it called? Tastes familiar."

Vicky took the pipe. "Jabberwocky, I think. Not sure. And I meant the

high

is low-key."

She brought her legs up onto the couch and took a hit herself, a deep one. Before she exhaled, she grabbed my chin and brought my face close to hers. She passed the smoke to me through a shallow kiss, something we frequently liked to do. I drew back and held it in, which was tough because there was no oxygen in it. Vicky undid the first few buttons of my shirt, slipped her hand in, and rubbed my bare chest as I exhaled.

We had gone so long without physical contact—a solid week, and even then it was that unfulfilling snog in the classroom—that Vicky's smoky kiss and gentle touch on my chest had me reeling. Or maybe it was just the weed.

Either way, something was stirred in my loins and I was beginning to get turned on. Unfortunately, I still had work to do, and promised myself only a couple puffs.

"That'll do it," I said with finality, getting off the sofa. "Got to hit the books."

Vicky looked disappointed again, although not as bad as before. "But I just got here. I thought I'd have a little more time with you..."

I cracked open the window behind Milton's desk. I didn't want to trigger the smoke alarm, or let the smell set in on his furniture. "You can stick around for a while if you want, but I have to keep working."

"I guess that's okay." Vicky shrugged while looking around the office.

"Did you finish the reading I assigned? You could work on that."

Vicky scoffed, but smiled. "This is what I get for a dating a professor..."

I reached into my backpack and handed her my copy of the textbook. "Lucky for you you've got the instructor's copy to read. Annotated and highlighted by yours truly."

Vicky flipped through the pages and scoffed. "This right here is exactly why the university doesn't want us dating each other."

"It's not exactly cheating," I said, sitting back down at Milton's desk. "You'd get the same tips from Spark Notes."

Vicky didn't reply; she had already started reading, so I got to work as well.

It wasn't ideal, but considering that the only time we had physically seen each other in the past two weeks was during our shared class, it was a blessing to be in the same room as each other, alone, even if circumstances forced my attention away from her.

Except I couldn't keep my attention on my thesis for longer than five minutes at a time. I hadn't thought it through. Vicky's very presence was a distraction.

I didn't really have a foot fetish, but in an effort to get more comfortable while reading, Vicky had taken off her Toms and was lying on the sofa with her bare feet crossed at the ankles and propped up on the armrest. The elegant profile of her smooth flawless legs was accentuated this way, and it was

very

distracting. Her fair skin made the coloring of the sugar skull tattoo on her thigh more vibrant, which was peeking out of the ridden-up skirt of her dress.

I went back to work, but my eyes were drawn back to her when I heard her shift position on the sofa to get more comfortable. I already mentioned that she wasn't wearing a bra underneath her dress, but I could now see that she wasn't wearing any panties either. With her skirt ridden up, I could catch a glimpse of her pussy peeking out at me from the bottom curve of her ass-cheek. It was enticing.

It's needless to say that by then the boner in my pants was rock hard and throbbing. I hadn't had sex in two and a half weeks, and I had been so busy, stressed out, and tired I couldn't find the time or energy to masturbate either. All that pent up sexual energy was now bubbling to the surface and was making it extremely hard to concentrate.

I took off my glasses and rubbed my eyes, stealing another glance at Vicky. I had hoped she was too busy reading to notice me ogling her again, but it was as if she was waiting for my attention. There was a mischievous little smirk on her face.

"You seem distracted," she said, looking down at my boner.

I shifted in my chair to hide it, pretending like it didn't exist. I didn't want to tell her she was the distraction, so I said, "Just... frustrated, is all. This paper is brutal." I replaced my glasses. "Listen, I know your dorm-mate is hogging the room, so why don't you just take my car keys and head to my place? I'll take a cab home when I'm finally done."

"I'd rather stay." She adjusted the strap of her dress, in effect making me look down at her bust.

"Listen, Vicky, I..." I couldn't finish my sentence because she had gotten up from the sofa and was slowly walking over to me. God dammit, the way she looked in that dress... It was relatively chaste, but I knew

exactly

what was underneath it.

"I've got an idea," she said, wedging her way into my lap. "Why don't we get rid of this annoying little bugger here..." She wiggled her ass, which was sitting right on top of my erection. "... and then maybe you can get back to work."

She grinded her ass into me a bit more, causing me to wheeze out a little moan while my eyes involuntarily rolled into the back of my head. "But I have to—"

Vicky silenced me with her lips, holding my chin so I wouldn't turn away until she was good and finished. She worked her tongue into my mouth only for moment before she finally pulled away and said, "Look me in the eyes right now and tell me you don't want me to suck your cock dry."

God dammit, that's exactly what I should have said, but I couldn't—and not just because I desperately wanted the blowjob, but also because I was simply rendered speechless. Her ass sitting on my cock, that apple smell that always seemed to linger around her, the taste of her lips, and the smoldering look in her golden brown eyes had stolen my voice. Not to mention the deliciously filthy thing she had just said—made only sexier by her accent.

"I thought so," Vicky said, sliding to the floor, purposefully dragging her body over my erection as she did so. I nearly came right there.

I watched in aching anticipation as Vicky worked her way through my clothes towards my cock—undoing my belt, unbuttoning and unzipping my fly, pulling aside my shirttails, and finally pulling down the waistband of my briefs.

My fully erect cock sprang free and Vicky smiled. "Hello there, big boy... did you miss me?"

Before I go on, let's get something straight. I'm not the best endowed but I'm not pathetically small either. Vicky went back and forth between calling my average-sized (6.5 inches) penis "little bugger" and "big boy" as she saw fit.

That night however, "big boy" was appropriate. I was so god damn horny and backed up, my cock had swollen beyond its usual limit to a solid seven inches with a bit more girth—maybe. I didn't have a ruler with me at the time.

Vicky slowly, lightly—and excruciatingly—wrapped her hand around it. The result was my cock twitching violently, threatening to explode then and there. Vicky giggled. "I've missed you, too..."

She gave it a long stroke, and I groaned out loud. "Jesus fucking Christ..." The sweet torture!

With a smile on her face, Vicky snaked out her pierced tongue and dragged the stud along the underside of my cock. I clenched my teeth and dug my fingers into the chair's armrest to bide the pleasure.

When she finally finished slithering her tongue up the length of my cock, Vicky licked the pre-cum drooling out of it, puckered her lips, and pushed the head inside her mouth.

God damn it. I was in Hell... or Heaven... it was heard to tell. It was hot, wet, tight, and tingly inside Vicky's mouth and the urge to drown her with two and a half weeks' worth of cum was too tempting.

For a minute she just massaged the tip of my cock with her tongue and lips... then she began dragging it back and forth, in and out, slowly—torturously—taking my cock deeper each time. Pretty soon she was bobbing her head up and down the length of my shaft, the tip tapping her throat every so often.

Vicky didn't like to deep throat, but I was okay with that, her taking most of my cock into her hot wet mouth was more than enough—plus neither of us liked the mess or the sound.

As I moaned and groaned at her machinations, Vicky began to moan and hum and pant. I realized that she had started playing with herself. The skirt of her dress was ridden up and her arm was moving furiously. I could hear a wet schlicking sound.

Knowing she was getting off on this too only amplified my own pleasure... Or maybe it was just the sexy, naughty noises she was making... It could have also been that she had started stroking the remaining length of my cock that didn't fit in her mouth with her free hand. She was always so good at multi-tasking during sex... probably because she always wanted to expedite it in order reach her orgasm as quickly as possible. I wish I had that luxury. My cock throbbed and strained against the tight tunnel Vicky made with her hand, lips, and tongue, until finally I couldn't bear it in any longer.

"Oh... God..." I was breathless already. "I'm gonna... cum..." I warned, my cock already twitching in preparation, my back was arching, my toes were curling.

"Mmm... you taste so good today..." Vicky cooed, momentarily withdrawing to lick and kiss my cock like a lollipop. "What if I let you cum in my mouth?"

Damn, that would be a treat. Vicky blew me often, nearly every time we had sex, but she rarely let me cum in her mouth. She either would let me unload onto her hand, face, or chest, then clean herself up with a towel we kept under my bed—or I would hold out to cum inside her later. She would sometimes let me do both, because I usually had two cumshots in me a night, three at best.

That might not be the case tonight, though. The jugger-nut I'd been building for the past two weeks threatened to leave me drained after only one orgasm. "Are you sure?" I asked.

"Mm-mm." I couldn't discern if she had said yes because my cock was back in her mouth, nor I could I tell if she nodded because her head was bobbing up and down.

It finally reached the point where it didn't matter. Vicky pulled off her "move," the one she only did when she let me cum in her mouth.

She backed up till only the knob of my cock was in her mouth and proceeded to massage it with her lips and tongue (really getting the studs of her piercings in there) while one hand rapidly stroked my shaft and the other massaged the base of my ball sack.

My orgasm was a blindside even though I had been ready to cum the second Vicky had sat in my lap earlier. There was no delay between me relinquishing control and the semen shooting out of my spasming penis. It was probably because I was fighting it this whole time.

"AAARGH!" On the second spasm I involuntarily cried out and grabbed a handful of her hair, holding her firmly on my dick—softly, don't worry.

I could see Vicky's surprise, but the kinky girl soldiered on, clamping her lips and hand tightly around my convulsing dick as it blew load after load into her hot wet mouth. I could feel my warm thick cum splash back against the roof of her mouth and coat the head of my cock.

It felt like I rode that orgasm for an eternity, but in reality it could have only been a few seconds. "Oh man... That was fucking amazing," I said, while I wiped the sweat from my brow.

Vicky pulled back, mouth clamped closed.

"Oh, sorry, just a sec," I said. Vicky didn't normally swallow, so I reached around and grabbed a discarded coffee cup from the desk for her to spit into. "Here."

But Vicky held up a finger, telling me to wait a second. She made a weird face... then gulped down the cumload in her mouth.

All I could say was, "Whoa." Not only was this a rare sight—she had only swallowed my cum like three or four times in the entirety of our six months together—but the load was so big she had to swallow twice in order to get it all down.

"Cheers," she said with a huge grin on her face. She wiped some mingled semen and drool off from her bottom lip with a finger... then licked the finger... all while looking right into my eyes. It was such a naughty sight that I could feel my spent cock already beginning to reload.

"Wow, I can't believe you just did that," I said as Vicky got up and sat on my naked lap. I immediately noticed her warm pussy drooling on my leg.

"I said you tasted unusually good tonight," Vicky explained. "That's not always the case, so consider yourself lucky, mister."

I couldn't help but smile. "I consider myself lucky every time you let me kiss you, let alone do anything else." I pulled her down for a kiss, not giving a damn that she had just swallowed my cum. She was initially surprised but kissed me back with some fervor. And she was right—I didn't taste that bad.

Vicky pulled away for a moment to say "I love you, Jonas..." She caressed my cheek softly.

I took off my glasses and looked straight into her eyes. "I love you, too..." I said, but felt a pang in my heart. "Although I haven't been showing it lately..."