Tom and Sydney returned to the campus the next day (although Amanda had insisted on them staying an extra two, for reasons she never fully went into). The couple was making out in the hallway just outside Tom's dorm room.
"Why don't we take this somewhere more comfortable?" he said, opening the door to the dorm. There in the living room of the dorm sat a shirtless Cliff, with a maid uniform and catgirl-ear wearing Casey on his lap, both now turned to look at the couple.
"Oh. Were you guys-" Tom started.
"Yeah" said Casey.
"I mean we wanted to-" Sydney started.
"Well, go somewhere else." said Cliff.
"...comrades, I think that we should acknowledge the dorm as common proper-" Tom started to say, before a leather-bound copy of Das Kapital came flying towards him, missing him only because he backed away and shut the door to stop the book.
"Fine! But next time put a sock on the door or something, Casey!" Tom shouted.
He sighed and turned to Sydney. "Well, that's not happening any time soon."
Sydney looked down the hall, then gave a devilish grin. "Well... not necessarily" she said.
"Why, what are you thi-".
He saw where Sydney was looking.
"Oh, no."
"Oh, yes."
"Oh hell no."
"Oh hell yes!"
"You know how bad of an idea that is, right?"
"Since when do you of all people care about rules?"
"There are practical methods of going about things, this is not practical."
"It's hot though."
Tom rolled his eyes in frustration. Both at Sydney insistence on this horrible idea... and at himself because he was about to agree to it.
"Fine" he said "But if we get caught, solidarity be damned I will throw you under the bus on this one."
"Fair enough now come on!" she said anxiously, grabbing him by his wrist. The two stood outside the men's room at the end of the hall. Tom looked around carefully, then checked the stalls, then came back outside and grabbed Sydney. The two went into the nearest stall.
"Swear to God, you're lucky they keep these stalls as clean as they do," he said, unbuckling his belt. He undid his zipper, revealing his hard dick. Sydney lifted up her dress, revealing that she hadn't been wearing any panties. "Man, what's gotten into you lately?" Tom asked with a grin.
"I feel closer to you after that weekend with your family, Tom. I feel like I can trust you with anything, it makes me want to try more with you. Now hurry up and lift me up to your hip you worm, we can talk after I cum," she said. Tom did as he was told, lifting her upwards. She wrapped her legs around his waist, guiding his cock inside of her. She met Tom's gaze and softly commanded, "Kiss me. Kiss me while you fuck your goddess."
He closed the bridge between their mouths, and began fucking her while he straddled her in his arms, keeping a tight grip on her exquisite ass. Initially he fucked her slowly, not wanting to lose his attention to his surroundings, but as Sydney's hands moved around him, and as her tongue played with his, he lost his focus and began fucking her more rapidly. Their kisses helped mute what would have otherwise been immense screams of pleasure.
She dug her grip into his body, shook slightly, and came on him. Breaking the kiss, she whispered in his ear, "Fill me. Tribute your seed to me."
He pushed himself as deep as he could inside her, then gave her everything. The two gripped each other tightly, not wanting a single moment of intimacy to fade. Unfortunately, neither could really bask in any kind of post-coital bliss, because shortly after he came, the door to the bathroom opened.
The next sound they heard was Alan, singing a pop song off key. The both of them met the other's gaze, wide-eyed in fear. Tom leaned in and whispered to Sydney, "Hold on tight for a second".
She nodded and tightened her grip. Tom released his, grabbed his cell out of his pocket, typed out a message, and held the phone up to her:
LAND ON YOUR FEET!!
She looked at him confused, but before she had the chance to respond, Tom pulled out of her, lifted her onto his shoulders, and leaned her against the stall. She caught on and quickly made a descent into the other stall. Thankfully, the impact of her landing wasn't very loud. Tom sent her another text:
W8 4 me 2 give u another text.
Ordinarily he was a stickler for grammar, but this required speed. Tom wiped his cock clean, tucked it back into his jeans, then flushed the toilet in the name of illusion. Alan finished up at the urinal he was using as Tom exited the stall and noticed him at the sink.
"Ah! Tom! Just the man I was looking for!" he said. "I've been trying to get in touch with you for a couple days now, you weren't answering your phone!
"I don't remember giving you my number." Tom said as Alan walked up to the sink next to him.
"I'm the R.A. Tom, I have everyone's number," Alan said, making his way to the door. "Come by my office, there's something important we need to discuss".
Tom dried his hands and stood in disgust. Not only because he had to be in a room alone with Alan, but because the creep had decided washing his hands was optional. He exited the bathroom, looked around and shot Sydney an all-clear text before heading downstairs to the R.A.'s office.
Alan's room was the polar opposite of his own. Well-organized to the point of mechanical, not a thing out of place, and seemingly no dust. The furniture was either dark grey or matte black, from the chairs on both ends of the desk in the middle of the room, to the bean bags in the back corners.
"This man must be a robot" Tom thought to himself.
"Have a seat, have a seat!" Alan insisted, sitting at the desk, his back facing the back end of the room. Tom sat down at the other end of the desk. Alan reached under the desk and pulled out two scotch glasses, then proceeded to pull out a fifth of whiskey with a black vinyl label.
"Scotch?" he asked. Tom shook his head.
"More for me" said Alan, pouring himself a glass, then putting the bottle back under the desk.
"Sydney tells me you're a mechanic." Alan said.
"That's right." Tom responded.
"Tell me, what's the most expensive thing you've worked on?" Alan asked.
Tom leaned back a bit and thought about it.
"It's OK, you can tell me you've never seen anything pricier than a Beetle" Alan said.
"Well it's not that," Tom said "It's more a matter of me not knowing whether or not the Benz I worked on was new or pre-owned".
Alan twisted his face in confusion.
