College Daze Ch 04

COLLEGE DAZE

Chapter 4

I roll into the parking lot a few minutes before nine in the morning, over an hour and a half later than usual. I had found my clothes sitting on the washing machine when I went into the laundry room to find a clean shirt. Proof that last night happened and not just a dream, an extremely erotic dream. I am lucky that I don't have any classes on Tuesday (today) or Thursdays, otherwise I would have missed my 8AM class and barely be on time for my 9:00 class.

As I turn the corner into the hall where my office is located, I see a girl sitting on one of the couches with her legs pulled up arms around them and her chin resting on her knees.

'Hi Brandi,' I say as she turns her head towards the sound of my footsteps. She is in my Intro to Engineering class this year, having taken both Physics classes last year. I take in her form, tiny, 5'2" and 115 pounds, strong, a member of the gymnastics team, dressed in fitted sweats. Her long brown hair is pulled back severely into a ponytail.

'Hi Dex,' she replies. 'I need to talk to you.' I need to talk to you, that phrase last year meant she was horny, but now, without the mischievous look of angst on her face, I feel that she really needs to talk. I guess I am a sucker, I can never turn a girl with a problem away.

My nickname Dex came about in a funny way. My riding buddies started calling me Poindexter after the cartoon character on the Rocky and Bullwinkle show. They called me Poindexter because I always had the answer to their questions, just like one of the cartoon characters. The problem is, though, Mr. Peabody, a dog, was always answering the questions and Poindexter, a kid, was asking those questions.

At the same time, my friends in college during my undergraduate year, started calling me Dex after a yellow pages commercial where people would ask an actor, supposedly the phone book, questions and he would give an answer. The Yellow Pages byline was Dex knows, thereby I became Dex.

The funniest part is I never told either group about the nickname the other gave me.

'Come on in,' I say to her as I unlock the door. She grabs her gym bag and follows. As I hang up my leather jacket and helmet, she perches on the desk. As she leans forward, I can see what looks like her workout leotard.

I sit in my chair as she announces, 'I have been asked to join the national team.' Even though the news is exciting, she says it with a dour face.

'That's great,' I respond, standing and giving her a congratulatory hug. Her return hug is lacking luster, I notice. 'What's wrong?'

'I have been working out with the team all summer,' she states. 'And I have been invited to join the team again.'

'That's understandable,' I state. 'You were ranked number one last year.'

'In college,' she says without any pride. 'I was an alternate three years ago for the Olympic team. In a year, I could make the team. I have always dreamed of being in the Olympics.'

'So, what's wrong?' I ask, cutting to the point.

'I went to tell the coach that I was going to red-shirt this year so I could pursue my dreams,' she said, close to crying. 'He yelled at me. He said I should think about the team I am on and not go running off after a pipe dream.' Tears finally flow.

I lift her off the desk and into my lap where I envelop her in my arms. 'He's a jerk,' I say resolutely. 'All he thinks about is himself.' I wipe the tears from her cheeks.

'He said he was going to get my scholarship pulled if I don't toe the line and participate in the meets,' she says quietly with a waiver in her voice.

'He can't do that,' I say with a hint of anger in mine. 'Don't worry, the board of regents won't pull the scholarship. They will think it's a feather in their collective cap to have you on the team.' I lift her face and try to smile.

She wraps her arms around my neck and says, 'I knew you would know what is really going on.' She gives me a quick kiss. I kiss her forehead and eyelids, trying to dry her tears.

'I'm going to need some help from everyone in order to pull this off,' she says with the first hint of a smile.

'No problem,' I reply. 'I will help you in any way I can.'

'I knew I could count on you,' she states, her small smile growing into a mischievous grin. With poise, and dexterity that I can't even dream about having, she vaults from the chair. I only feel the absence of her weight. She has the door locked and the zipper to her sweatshirt down before I swing around in the chair. What I thought was a leotard is actually a thin sports bra that is too small.

'You tits have gotten bigger,' I point out as her chest stretches the poor material beyond its design and her nipples prominently point back at me.

Rocking back and forth on one toe and one heel, she asks demurely, 'Is that bad daddy?' I recognize the game she likes. I don't know where she came up with this game. Only being five years older than her no way makes me old enough to be her daddy. I know her father died when she was very young. The life insurance he had provided handsomely. Her mother never remarried, and to Brandi's knowledge never even had a boyfriend. All of her coaches and most teachers in school were women. She was always too busy to be interested in guys. I have been the closest thing she has ever had as a boyfriend or even a male influence.

'Have you been showing off your new, bigger tits?' I ask in a mock serious voice, knowing she hasn't.

'Yes, daddy,' she admits meekly.

'You need a spanking,' I say, barely able to keep from laughing.

'No, please, no,' she begs. 'Anything but that.'

'Off with the sweats,' I command. 'Over here and over my lap.' She feigns terror, but her quick action of kicking off her shoes and removing her sweat pants belie that. Her nipples, having grown harder, also show her excitement in the game. Her tiny green lacy thong clearly demonstrated her preparation for this meeting and her anticipation that sometimes going to happen. 'Now,' I add as she seems to be stalling.

Before she has a chance to lie across my lap, I stop her. Opening a desk drawer, I withdraw two clothes pins. 'Put these on,' I command.

A fake tremble courses through her. But, she whips off her sports bra and attaches a clothespin to each nipple. A little squeal of pleasure and pain slips out as she allows the pressure to be borne by her taut peaks.

As she bends over my lap, I tug her thong up, higher than it should be, forcing it to be tight across her crotch. I force her legs apart, with her help of course. Running my hand along the lace, I work it between her perfectly waxed lips and the rear portion disappears between her muscular cheeks.

Smacking her sweet ass is torture. Not for her, for me. Each slap, she squeals, giddy with delight, even when I slap between her legs, letting her swelling lips bear the brunt of mock discipline.

The harder I hit, the more she squirms around. She grinds her clit into my leg, enjoying the roughness of my Levi's. I grab a bamboo back scratcher and let her have it. Welts raise almost as fast as her moans. I spot the fly swatter. One slap with the wire handle and she howls as she cums with a built up tension I haven't seen before.

I toss the fly swatter on the desk and watch her slowly come down. Her breathless pants are inconsistent with her aerobic conditioning.

She crawls up my torso. Nuzzling my ear, she whispers, 'Fuck me. Fuck your naughty little girl in the ass.'

I start to get up. She scampers off me. Grabbing my stool, she climbs up with her foot on the foot rail and bends over. I pull off her thong. Soaked. Smiling, I stuff it in her mouth.

I unfasten my pants, wet where she was laying across my lap, and step up. Without any pretense, I impale myself in her already abused ass. Even with the panties in her mouth, she screams her pleasure with my abrupt taking.

I pull her legs up off the stool as I repeatedly thrust into her. Most of her weight is now on her arms and the force of my pounding is too. She moans 'Yes' over and over, finally culminating in a crescendo as she tops out again.

Her clenching pulls me over too. Withdrawing quickly, I twist the chair around and let loose. The first squirt hits her in the face before she has time to spit out the panties and wrap her lips around my head. The rest of the deluge flows into her greedy mouth. Her hand slowly strokes me, insuring she gets everything coming to her.

Using her fingers, she scrapes my cum from her face and licks them clean. 'Mmm, liquid protein for breakfast,' she says with a giggle.

I start laughing. She crawls up on my lap and curls up. 'You're so good to your little girl,' she breathes out softly.