Uofs

Much thanks to my editor, who made this story far more readable and enjoyable than it was before I put it in her hands.

***

1 : The Magician

Black lace was the theme. The first item she slipped on was a thong so insubstantial that she felt as if she were still naked. As she Regarded her image in the mirror, she considered that some things were better than naked.

The delicate pattern of the lace somewhat obscured her mound, but it was still obvious that she was waxed smooth. Ribbons of soft velvet arched up from the lace to encircle her hips. They met just above her ass, and the g-string proceeded to plunge between her sculpted cheeks.

***

"He's looking at you, Nell," said one of her teammates, gesturing to a man beside the field. Cornelia Roberts paused to re-tie her long blonde ponytail and casually turned her head to view the figure at the sidelines. The girl continued, "It's kind of creepy—him coming up to the soccer field during practice to ogle us..."

"Just pass me the ball," Nell laughed. "Don't worry about him. He's Lucy's brother."

Nell trapped the pass and returned it with swift accuracy. Soccer was something Nell was quite good at. She'd made the team effortlessly, and most of her teammates knew it.

While they continued the drill, Nell was always conscious of a set of eyes upon her, appraising everything except her technique. She stole glances whenever she could make it look natural. Lucy was a pretty girl, and her brother resembled her. He had the same auburn hair, golden tan, and well-proportioned features—plus an athlete's body evident from his broad shoulders and trim waist.

She wondered where he was staying and if he would be going out to the clubs with everyone else tonight. There weren't many clubs in Sandale—the students attending the University of Sandale were the majority of the attendees, and U of S was small.

After practice, Nell made sure that her path home passed by the handsome voyeur.

"Nice practice," he nodded to her. "You've got some talent under your belt."

She stopped walking and grinned. "I'm Nell," she said with an extended hand. "Forgive me, but if you were assessing anything more than the stability of our sports bras, you are unlike any hot, young spectator we've ever had at practice."

He took her hand and shook it. "Lawrence. A pleasure to meet you, and forgiven. To defend myself, I am a keen appreciator of the

entire

feminine anatomy."

"Are you going to be out at the clubs tonight?"

"I will be. Am I going to see you?"

"I'm not the sort to miss out on a Saturday night."

"Me neither—see you there."

***

One... two... three hooks before her garter belt was secured. It rested on her hips, just below the apex of the thong straps. Five inches of lace hugged her closely, and lace ruffles were attached at the hem. The ruffles hinted at a juvenile femininity, but the cut was undeniably for grown-ups only.

***

Perched on a barstool, Nell scanned the dancing crowd. She was certain that Lawrence would show up here if he came to the clubs. For their imminent tryst, it couldn't be anywhere else.

"Picking up tonight, Nell?" A petite Asian girl—her neighbour, Claire— leaned against the bar and surveyed Nell's outfit. Nell sipped her drink, turning her body so that Claire could see the whole ensemble. It started at the bottom with white stiletto sandals that glowed in the black lights, tight black satin capri pants that showed off her athletic figure, and was topped with a deep, backless halter in white that showed off her modest cleavage.

"You're definitely picking up tonight. Who have you got your eye on?"

Nell started to answer, but a boy tugged on Claire's arm and said something in her ear. Claire smiled apologetically and followed her partner onto the dance floor. Nell watched them go and observed the crowd as she worked on her drink.

She had only been watching the dance floor for a few minutes before a hand grazed the naked small of her back, sending a shiver up her spine. Nell turned to see Lawrence, looking even more appealing than this afternoon. He was wearing khaki pants and a button-up shirt so sheer that she could almost make out the contours of his chest .

"Fancy meeting you here," she grinned. "I hope you're in the mood because I've been dying to dance." Without giving him a chance to respond, she placed a hand on his chest, pushing him out toward the dance floor.

She had abandoned her drink, but it was all about timing. She wanted Lawrence, and she wasn't going to give him a moment to even consider his options. His hand grasped hers as they moved through the throng. Just being among so many people gave her an adrenaline rush, and she couldn't help but sway to the driving beat of the music.

The best part of dancing in clubs was how the details just faded away. Her senses were heightened but analysis smothered, so the experience was entirely about one challenging smirk caught by the coloured lights, the touch of his hand pressed flat against the flesh of her back, the beat of the music moving their hips in sync, the smell of his musky cologne, and the salty taste of his sweat against her lips as she kissed the side of his neck.

Butterfly kisses weren't her style—instead, each kiss was demanding, firm and confident. His grip on her waist tightened and he pulled her close. One hand held her body against his, the other roamed up her back, touching the bare lines of her muscles. The hand holding the small of her back drifted down to cup her ass and press her hips against his.

He was definitely interested. The club was warm, but the throbbing heat of him against her thigh was something else again. His teeth teased her ear, and then his tongue and lips trailed along her jawbone. Nell was not inexperienced, but the sensations he was evoking still caught her off guard. She was melting. Heat pooled between her legs and she pressed herself against his thigh in an attempt to appease it.

Her lips were parted and moist by the time his mouth pressed against hers. He led with authority, teasing her lips into responses with small nibbles. She was just gaining the upper hand when he turned her so that her ass pressed into his groin while his mouth played along her shoulder and neck. His hand skimmed the waist of her pants only briefly before slipping up and inside her top to cup one of her naked breasts.

Toying with her nipple, he had her moaning aloud almost instantly. But it was never enough—after proving what he could make her feel with any combination of their extremities, he moved on. His hand now trailed across her flat stomach, delighting in the muscular ridges that marked her as an athlete. She knew he could please her, if only his hand would just ... slide ... lower. His fingertips slipped under the waistband of her pants, almost far enough to feel her cleft.

"Tomorrow," he breathed into her ear. "I have a hotel room in town. Say you'll see me tomorrow?"

"Tonight—you could come by my flat," she suggested. She felt the muscles of his cheek grin.

"I want you to wait and think about how much we want this." His hand suddenly thrust as deeply into her pants as it could and in one deft motion stroked the lubricated flesh between her legs to coat his finger with her juices. Once done, he trailed his finger up through her cleft and lit her clit on fire. In the next instant he was tasting her off his finger while taking a step back.

Staggered, but not about to be outdone, Nell withdrew a pen from her purse, took his other hand and slipped his index finger almost entirely into her mouth, maneuvering her tongue around it as if it were his cock. After withdrawing it slowly from her mouth, she scribbled her number on his palm.

"Catch you later," she said into his ear before breezing off the dance floor.

***

She picked up a black stocking from the package and smirked, thinking he had no idea what he was getting into. Her legs were flawlessly shaped and long enough to elicit stares from strangers. The sheer fabric slid over her well-defined calf and then over a powerful thigh. Genetics and a lifetime of soccer had given her legs to make a runway model envious and man's blood boil.

***

Nell got home shortly after leaving Lawrence at the club, and the memories of his hands on her skin still left her burning. In her room she stripped off her club clothes and tugged a satin slip on over her head. Her flatmates—her cousin Nicholas and his friend Jesse—were still out and the apartment was quiet. In the bathroom, she scrubbed off her makeup and mentally elaborated on Lawrence's promise of tomorrow.

In a public place, in an instant, he'd almost made her beg. In private, with plenty of time... she could only hope to have enough strength to walk home when they were sated.

She would wear a skirt, long and breezy, apparently modest but so easily pushed aside. When they meet for dinner, she would whisper in his ear that she'd forgotten her knickers at home and tug his earlobe gently with her teeth.

Her fantasy cut ahead to the restaurant's washroom. Her back is pressed against the locked door, and she has one foot on the sink as he fucks her with two fingers while his solid erection presses against her thigh. In a momentary pause, she pushes him down into a courtesy armchair and straddles him, unbuttoning his pants and tugging them to the ground.

His satin boxer shorts are tented around his cock, and as his lips captures hers. She starts to grind against him, rubbing her clit along his length. He groans and runs his nails down her back before grabbing her hips to increase her tempo. He growls in her ear how badly he wants her, so she tugs off his boxers and unleashes his magnificent cock. It springs towards her; she takes him in her mouth, licking and sucking until he begs for release, and—-

Nell came back to reality with a start when she heard the front door slam closed. The boys were home, yet there she was leaning against the wall with her back arched on the towel bar with one hand edging up under her slip. Jesse would probably think it was hot, she thought with a smirk, but Nicholas would definitely not.

Smoothing her slip, Nell grabbed her toothbrush and tried to continue with her bedtime routine. Her arousal was intense and distracting. A steady pulse beat between her legs, and she could feel a slow drip of her juices leaving a trail down the inside of her thigh. She hurriedly spat into the sink, rinsed, and mumbled a goodnight to Jesse as he came in to use the washroom, hoping he wouldn't wonder why her face and chest were glistening with sweat.

Back in her room, she almost ran to the desk where she kept her vibe in a drawer. She had been too busy to take it out since she had moved in a few weeks ago, but the contours fit her hand in the same familiar way. Her fingers toyed with her clit of their own accord as she made her way to the bed and sat down on the side, her legs spreading expectantly.

The soft hum when she turned it on coaxed a low moan from her lips. She pushed back her bed covers, propped her back up against the pillows, and paused only a moment before pressing the end of the cock-like toy between her legs. The explosion of pleasure that followed had her arching her back almost instantly.

Usually it took a little time to warm up, slowly dialing up the intensity until the vibrations teased her body to that pulsing, dizzying peak. This evening, she was already teetering on the edge, and she hadn't yet touched the settings.

She could wait for Lawrence. Most guys she'd been with liked it best when she was fast and easy to please. Lawrence wasn't like them. Though she'd only spent a brief time with him, she could tell that he was a man who lived for the challenge—and the longer and harder that challenge, the better. Tomorrow night, she would be slow. Tonight, she had to come, and it had to be soon.

Her thoughts of him were fleeting, but they were enough. Warm lips and tongue swirling around her nipple, biting ever so gently; a throbbing cock just waiting for her to mount him. That sweet moment before orgasm was a memory as her body trembled and waves of heat flushed her chest and face and blood pounded in her ears before dying away a moment later.

She lay back on the pillows and relaxed her grip on the vibrator, breathing deeply. Sleep would come quickly tonight, and she welcomed it. She knew there wouldn't be much of it tomorrow.

***

He must have consulted someone to get her bra size exactly right. The band fit snugly under her breasts, half-cupped in more black lace. There was no padding, but somehow the shape created definition and lushness from her modest curves.

***

Dinner had been blissful agony.

They had been seated at a comfortable table for two in a quiet corner. A long, linen tablecloth pooled on the floor. It was an invitation to be naughty under the nose of the wait staff, and it seemed from their knowing glances that the servers knew it too.

Through appetizers, salad, a main course, dessert, and coffee, not only had Lawrence lingered over the food but also his foot had rested in her lap. Nell wore clothes similar to those she picked in her fantasy the night before, but instead of leaving her knickers at home, she wore the outfit he'd sent her, and it hadn't taken his foot very long to discover it.

He stroked her lightly at first, so that his sock and the movement of her thong were just a tickle on her smooth lips. She had tried to return the favour, but he used his other leg to make sure hers remained spread. Under the table, her skirt was hiked up over her knees while his foot massaged her thighs.

When he nudged the top of her stocking and the buckles attached to the garter belt, he grinned and slipped a hand under the tablecloth. She raised her eyebrows to indicate that she was on to him; he winked back but continued to touch himself covertly.

As he grew more aroused, he demanded the same of her, rubbing his toes against her clit, faster and more firmly when he wanted to feel her wetness. The thong was soaked, and so was his sock. Even though she desperately wanted to grind against him hard and fast enough to climax, she couldn't without being appallingly obvious.

"So... is black lace a favourite of yours?" Nell purred—a little breathlessly—across the table. She couldn't resist bringing up the lingerie.

"One of many favourites," he murmured back. "The lace is less important than the figure underneath it."

In the elevator heading up to his room, she was nearly crazy with wanting him. At least he seemed to be nearly crazy too.

His eyes raked over her, taking in the red heels she wore with the black stockings, her legs, the easy access of her skirt, her waist, breasts, and shoulders. She leaned back against the railing in the elevator, angling her figure so he could get a better look.

His hands closed on her hips as he pressed his body against hers, covering her mouth with his. He felt as good as he had the previous night: firm, hot, but never sloppy.

The elevator shuddered to a stop, and he pulled away as the doors were opening.

She followed him out and tried not to rush down the hall to his room. Finally, he stopped at one of the doors, inserted his key, and let her in. He closed the door behind them and pinned her against it, kissing her again.

Nell's back arched against the door as the ache between her legs started to flood with heat. She hooked her fingers through his belt loops to pull his body closer to hers. He responded instantly by pressing his hips against her. She could feel him, hot and hard already against her stomach.

"You are stunning," he whispered against her lips. His hand slid up the side of her waist to graze her breast through her sweater. He gripped it gently, and she was small enough to fill his hand almost perfectly. When he kissed her again, he began to knead in time with his kisses.

She wanted to wrap her legs around his hips and urge him to fuck her against the door, wanted him to slide a firm hand up her skirt and slip her thong to the side before stroking her clit until she came. God, she wanted to come. Before that, though, she wanted to see how much more he wanted her when he saw how she looked under the cardigan and skirt.

She pushed him back a bit by placing a hand on his chest. "Don't you want to see the outfit?" she asked, teasing his lips with tiny kisses.

"I do," he said.

Nell reached down to wrap her hand around his cock through his pants and massaged him gently until a sigh escaped him. "Go sit on the bed, you'll want a good view."

Once he was seated on the corner of the bed, she unzipped her skirt and let it pool on the ground around her. He gaped a little as his gaze traveled from the red shoes, up miles of stocking-covered leg, to the flat stomach where her hands were slowly unbuttoning her cardigan.

"Damn," he breathed. "I knew it would look hot, but ..."

Nell smirked and let her cardigan fall off her shoulders. She turned in a slow circle so that he could admire her ass and muscular back as well.

She swaggered the few steps to him, making every movement count. He was transfixed by the sway of her hips. Lawrence's hands clutched the bedspread where they rested, and he leaned back on them to take in the sight of her more completely.

Keeping her eyes locked on his, Nell started touching herself, using her hands to draw his attention where she wanted it. She started at her hips, running her fingers along the top of the garter belt, up her toned abdomen and the sides of her ribcage. She dipped a hand under the top of her bra to massage her breast as he had and as he surely wanted to do again.

She used her other hand to sweep her golden curls back from her face, and with a flick of her head tossed her hair. She wanted him to imagine tangling his fingers in it, holding her head close while she kissed his mouth or sucked his cock. From the low growl in his throat and from the naked lust in his eyes, it was obvious that his imagination was travelling along the right lines.

She turned slowly, looking over her shoulder to maintain eye contact for as long as possible. Still rotating her hips, Nell backed up until she was standing between Lawrence's spread legs.

"So do you like this angle?" Nell asked over her shoulder before bending at the waist, and then lowering herself to press her ass into his crotch.

"I—-" Lawrence began, but before he could form his response, she rubbed against him. She could feel how hard he was, and she didn't stop grinding until he was completely and very solidly erect. "—God, yes!" he finally blurted. His hands moved to grasp her hips and encourage the motion.

He rose so he was standing behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. His lips met a hollow at the side of her neck, and he kissed her there. She couldn't hold back a moan. There was no way he could have known, but that perfect spot made her melt every time.

He didn't stop kissing her neck, but his hands explored the ridges of her abdomen and then moved to her thighs. He toyed with the straps on her garter belt and slipped his fingers under the tops of her stockings to feel more of her. His erection pressed into the small of her back, throbbing through his pants.

"You're wearing too much," Nell insisted, reaching behind her to skim the outside of his legs with her palms. She could feel powerful thighs beneath the crisp cotton-wool blend of his trousers. "Take them off."

His lips broke contact with her neck, and his breath was hot on her ear: "Take them off me."

She turned to face him and looked in his eyes. "Promise you'll fuck me when I'm done."