I suppose that to start with I should tell you a little about myself. My name is Cynthia, but they just call me Cyn, usually with a smirk if I'm being introduced. I'm eighteen and attending university where I'm studying physics. I intend to be a nuclear physicist, and I'll get there. I have a couple of extra-curricular activities (essential for those extra marks). Being what would be described as a cheerful bouncing blonde I naturally tried out as a cheerleader and was accepted. It's fun and it also keeps you fit. My other activity is being a Teaching Assistant for the professors in the Physics department. Not that I actually teach. I'm more of a glorified gopher, doing whatever is required.
That's the job that got me into a slightly sticky situation. Professor Edmunds wanted me to run off a hundred copies of student notes, about twenty pages of them. You can work it out for yourself. Two thousand pages to be copied, collated and stapled.
No worries, you're thinking. Put them into one of these big photocopiers and they'll all come out sorted and all I need to do is staple them. Here me laughing? The university doesn't have a machine like that. Or if we do, I don't have access to it. I would have to use one of the normal copiers. (Why not print a hundred copies straight from the computer? I don't know. I asked but was just told to go copy them. The professor wanted them ready first thing in the morning.)
Now the trouble with most of the photocopiers around the place is that they get rather high usage and as a mere Teaching Assistant I'd get pushed off by everyone who had a job more urgent than mine. (All of them, probably.) BUT, I did have access to a little used machine. There was one in Coach's storeroom. I could take the notes to cheer-leader practice and do the copying as soon as it was finished.
So I went to cheer-leader practice, stuffed the notes in my locker, and went and did my part. I came back after the practice, exhausted. Those practices could be rough. All I really wanted to do was get out of my costume, have a shower, get dressed, and go home. Naturally, I opened my locker and the notes leapt out at me. I glared at them and they cringed back, but didn't go away.
Then I thought, what the hell? There was a queue for the showers. I could nip into the Coach's storeroom, do the copying, and when I came back there'd be no queue and I could have the shower to myself.
With the copying started I just leaned against the wall and waited. Every so often I'd have to add more paper but that was all. An easy job. (Spell that boring.)
I was about a half of the way through the copying when Henry, known as Hank, (or Hunk amongst the cheer-leaders) came into the store room. Hank was the current quarterback, which is considered a prestigious position on the team. (Hey, I know cheer-leading - not football.)
He spotted me as soon as he walked in and strolled over.
"My, my. Little Cyn," he said with a smirk. "Is this the Cyn bin?"
"Very clever," I drawled. "The first time I've heard that one. Today."
He just grinned at me.
"So what are you doing here?" he asked.
I looked pointedly at the photo-copier, churning away.
"Reproducing," I said, with a smirk of my own.
He laughed.
"Rather boring, the way you're doing it," he said. "You need something to take your mind off it."
"You think?"
"I know," he said softly, still smiling, and leaning towards me.
If I didn't duck, Hank was going to be kissing me, and he already had a girlfriend. I was bored rigid. Why would I duck?
I was quite right. Hank kissed me. He wasn't rough about it. Just a gentle meeting of lips, which I found myself answering. Hey, he was a friend. What's wrong with a kiss between friends? Or two or three? He kept on kissing me and I kept right on kissing him back. It was fun.
I should have expected the wandering hands. Come to think of it, I did expect the wandering hands. I'd probably have been insulted if they hadn't wandered. His hand closed over my breast and I giggled and pushed it away. A few more kisses and a few more touches and his hand became reluctant to be pushed away, and I didn't force the issue. It was harmless and, like I said earlier, it was fun.
I'm not exactly sure when he undid my bra. One moment his hand was stroking my breasts through my top, then the next his hand was coming up inside my top and inside my bra and closing over my naked breast. I started at that and pulled at his arm but he didn't move it, just cupping my breast and looking at me.
I gave a sigh and put on a slightly grumpy face but let his hand remain where it was. I was feeling deliciously naughty, and his hand felt fine, stroking my breasts. I didn't even protest too much when he lifted my top, exposing my breasts. Perhaps I should have, but I just watched while he bent down and kissed them.
After letting him kiss them, I couldn't really object when he kept on playing with them. I did object, though, when he let his free hand lift up the front of my dress and start rubbing me through my panties. Even with those bloomers that we have to wear as cheer-leaders I could feel his touch as if there was no material there.
Do you know how he answered my protest? He conceded that I had a point and said he didn't want to take advantage of me.
"This will make things even," he said, and pushed my hand against his cock.
Ye gods, I was groping Hank's cock? Never in my wildest dreams. . .
I should have known he'd just use that fact to take further advantage. Or was it me taking advantage? I mean, he had an erection and my hand was right there and I was curious to see what Hank had in the way of equipment, so I slipped down his zipper.
Wow, wow, wow, was my immediate response. He had a nice piece of man-meat there. I could barely get my hand around it. (Mind you, I guess I do have small hands, but still...)
Ha. Hank and his no advantage philosophy. Just because I'd taken hold of his cock didn't mean he had to push my panties down, both bloomers and my normal panties. He quite calmly shoved them down to my knees, lifting my skirt and tucking the hem into the waist.
