So, it's been a while but this is the latest in R&R, I recommend reading parts 1-3 for plot development but if you like being confused and bewildered well then just read this one :D Enjoy!
***
A soft, warm hand caressed my crotch and for a second I thought I was still dreaming, but no there was no doubt a moment later when the hand began to massage my hardening member. I let out a small moan and opened my eyes a fraction.
Next to me lay Rachel, glorious in all her nudity with one hand slipped beneath the covers that half covered the two of us. She slowly stroked me whilst a giant grin that reached her eyes played across her flawless face.
"Morning," She whispered coyly in my ear.
I've created a monster,
a quick thought flashed through my mind. Not only had we been up to the wee hours of the previous night masturbating the other, but here she was, barely five hours later, waking me up by perhaps the best way possible.
"Morning yourself," I grunted back, fairly distracted by the pressure and slow gyrating motion she exerted on my penis. By now I was stiff as I could ever remember and I was wet with my precum. Rachel leant over and kissed me softly on my mouth, whilst she continued to play with my penis. I was amazed at her ability to multi-task. I could barely return the kiss and I wasn't even doling out any pleasure, just receiving it!
She quickened her pace and thankfully stopped kissing me, instead studying my face with abject fascination. I began to thrust my hips and dipped a hand beneath the covers to place upon her own, guiding her in a rotating motion over the head, sending deep tendrils of pleasure shooting from my groin to all over my body.
"Faster, harder," I grunted, letting my hand fall as I lay back and enjoyed the show. I was surprised to feel a second hand upon my shaft, moving in tandem with the one clenched around my head. I couldn't hold back, I couldn't prolong the dump of pleasure that she had just delivered. With a load moan bordering upon a scream I let go, feeling squirt after squirt erupt from my member to splash into her hands and over my crotch.
"Wow," was all I could think to say, lying spent and panting.
"Well, you've a busy day ahead of you and I wanted to thank you for everything... again,"
I rolled my head to the side and felt my heart flutter as I gazed upon her. She sat, cross legged, her hands still upon my crotch, her long blond hair running down her front just covering up her nipples.
"God you're amazing," I half sat up and rotated to move my face closer to hers, she understood my point and leant down to join me in a loving kiss.
"I know," she responded after we broke our kiss, getting up and trotting off to the bathroom to clean up. I couldn't help myself and I stared at her ass the entire way, feeling a pang of lust at the way the cute heart shaped posterior bounced ever so slightly.
Unfortunately I didn't have time to return the favor, already running late from her morning surprise, and I barely had time to shower, gulp down a cup of hot bitter coffee, and give her a quick kiss and a promise to return the favor tenfold when I returned before I ran out the door to start a new week at university.
***
It was one o'clock and I was lying back on the deceptively uncomfortable s-shaped wooden chairs that were dotted around the large green in the center of the engineering campus. A crossword lay open on my lap, a blue ball point pen dangling almost forgotten in my right hand. I hadn't been able to wipe the smile off my face all day, a look which had incited more than a little ridicule from Jack and Peter, another friend in my course.
I let the sunlight caress my body, enjoying one of the last fine warm days we were likely to have before winter came. I had another three hours of class this afternoon but knew I'd be distracted throughout – something to do with the hot, horny blonde angel that waited at home for me.
I glanced around the large open area, examining the people around me. There was the usual smattering of couples, stealing a solitary hour to snuggle together on the aptly named 'make-out chairs', circles of four or five people lying on the grass, playing cards or just chatting, and the ever constant foot traffic that cut through on their way to class, home or for a much needed caffeine boost.
Three days ago I would have just smiled and gone back to the cross word, but not today. Despite how relaxed I was feeling I couldn't quite shake the sense of unease that had been near and never forgotten since Rachel shared her deepest secret with me. Now every glance in my direction was enemy surveillance and anybody moving towards me or even in a fifteen meter radius was an assailant hoping to get the drop on me.
Enough,
I admonished,
what's going to happen? Werewolves , arcane magic users and hordes of demons are going to erupt and attack you on a sunny afternoon in the middle of crowded university? Hell, no one probably even knows about you! Those guys the other day were probably just in the right place at the right time.
I forced myself back to the crossword. 17 across: Marks on a tennis court (9).
Baseline?
I marked it in. 17 down: French headwear (5).
Beret,
yup it fit. I was just about to write it in too when a streak of pain shot through my thumb.
"Fuck!" I called out automatically, my thumb felt as if a knife had just sliced deep into the flesh, I glanced at my thumb and was surprised to see... nothing. Not a single blemish or flaw.
"Got one wrong?" The a guy sitting in a similar chair ten feet away asked sarcastically. I glanced around and noticed that this time the looks people were shooting me definitely weren't in my imagination.
"Paper cut," I responded, half laughing, trying to hide the look of perplexity that was etched deep across my face. The pain was fading now and I couldn't figure out from where it had come. After a couple more minutes the momentarily intense pain had completely fled my mind as I launched myself back into the quick crossword at the back of the Sydney Morning Herald.
At five to two I got up, swung my black backpack across my shoulders, and headed out to my first afternoon lecture, a long and boring fifty minutes filled with confusing double integrals, partial derivatives and more Greek letters than you can shake a stick at. It was mundane and the most interesting thing that happened for the whole lecture was Jack falling asleep and waking himself up with a large snore, which set the class into a brief fit of laughter.
After Integral Calculus we headed off to an equally dull class that devoted itself to the material properties of concrete. I wondered, as I often do, how on earth they justified the devotion of an entire month to this common grey material which was about as interesting as watching... well concrete dry. Half way through the lecture my thumb started stinging again. I managed to hold in the expletive I had let out earlier but a sharp breath escaped my, drawing the attention of Jack and Peter.
"What," Jack whispered, raising an eyebrow in concern.
"Nothing," I responded shaking my head and trying to ignore the stinging in my digit.
What's happening? Do I have a... I dunno... blister?
I probed the soft skin and felt nothing out of the ordinary. I returned to pretending to take notes and felt yet another stab of pain shoot through my thumb.
For the next half an hour, the intermittent phantom pains continued, each time the feeling was less intense and at the end of the lecture it had subsided to an occasional dull throb, strangely reminiscent of putting pressure on a day or two old cut.
