I had been walking through those glass doors for the last several weeks at almost exactly the same time, just after 10am. Just like all those other times I had just finished running or swimming and showered and was now ready to study.
The days I don't come in have me thinking about coming up with a good excuse to go get a cup even though I'm not studying. What could it be about going there that gets me so turned on? I always end up going downstairs to the bathroom to put a vibe in my panties before I can get back to work.
Today, I ordered my drink from Mike, the slightly-stereotypical-looking-college-philosophy-too-ironic-for-you guy who's always behind the counter. He's tall, probably a good 7 or 8 inches taller than me, with short brown curly hair and these intense green eyes.
I swear most days I can tell he just got hard when I walked up to the counter. He's always flirty and jokes about how he's blatantly "distracted" by my cleavage. I've taken to always wearing deep v-neck t-shirts thin enough for my nipples to show through when they get hard, which always happens when he starts staring. I'm starting to think Mike's been turning the AC down a few degrees before my normal arrival time too.
He's also been joking that he's been putting a special ingredient in my chai tea that's making it hard for me to be away from him too long. I always flirt back, this time sliding both my hands into my jeans back pockets pushing my tits a little toward him, asking, "and why is it that you've been spiking my tea?"
He turns to me and, with a mischievous little grin and a twinkle in his eye, says "I want you thinking about me seducing you... so that I finally can."
I acted aghast and say "Can what? Can seduce me?" I smiled again, "of course, I would know you wouldn't have to go through all that if you wanted me."
His smile broadened, "see, it's working already."
I laughed and ended our little exchange by taking my tea and walking upstairs to the little study nook I've adopted as my own spot. I turned on the little chandelier hanging over my corner of the little sofa and put my laptop out on the coffee table and basically settled into preparing to work. I slipped off my flip-flops and stretched out my legs on the other end of the sofa making sure to keep my short stretchy skirt from flipping up.
I worked like that for about half and hour when a wadded up paper landed on my book. I looked up realizing I was alone on this floor when another wad of paper flew through the air and landed in my shirt. I heard Mike bust out laughing and then the sound of his feet pounding up the stairs. He rounded the corner and, grabbing my legs, slipped under them and onto the end of the sofa, setting my legs down on his lap. He laughed again and put his hands on my calves.
"And just WHAT do you think you're doing, young man?" I say with completely faked calm disbelief. Inside, my heart was racing and my skin was on fire from his hands finally being on my body.
"We're ALL alone..." he announces as he rubs my calf softly, "Sooo, I hung the closed sign up and locked the door." He begins to slide his hand farther up my leg, over my knee, almost to my skirt hem.
I try to maintain my composure and calm my breathing saying, "and you think what is going to happen now?" Everywhere he touches leaves a trail of tingling across my skin. It feels sooooo good. I don't want him to stop touching me regardless of the words coming out of my mouth.
"Well, my little temptress, the last bit of powder I put in your tea today should be just enough to make you feel something rather electric whenever I touch you. It takes about thirty minutes to hit your system and it's been about thirty-three minutes since I handed it to you. So this" as he grips my leg a bit and slides his hand farther up the outside of my thigh under my skirt, "should about be enough to set the spark."
