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Outside Voorhees Hall, Columbia University, New York, Thursday
What was a girl to do when her first year of college was about a week away from being over and she was desperate for one last boost in coolness in the eyes of her peers (namely, her three roommates)? Why, obviously the answer was to invite a guy over! Specifically, a guy she'd slept with like a year ago and who she - let's face it - barely knew aside from that. But he was impressive! Or at least impressively hot, and, also he was nice even if Xanthippe was loathe to admit that was a positive quality in anyone.
So she'd invited Hyacinthe over for a visit. And she'd gone and picked him up on the edge of campus and walked him through it and now they were here, right outside her dorm. It was one of those imposing brown brick buildings, old as rocks and heavy with history.
The sign outside said VOORHEES HALL.
"So, yeah," she said, looking up at the building. At her side, her fingers were fidgeting with the edge of her overly lengthy sleeve. "This is where I live now."
In a building with her last name on it.
[ooc: NFB due to distance, and for the boy mentioned!]
So she'd invited Hyacinthe over for a visit. And she'd gone and picked him up on the edge of campus and walked him through it and now they were here, right outside her dorm. It was one of those imposing brown brick buildings, old as rocks and heavy with history.
The sign outside said VOORHEES HALL.
"So, yeah," she said, looking up at the building. At her side, her fingers were fidgeting with the edge of her overly lengthy sleeve. "This is where I live now."
In a building with her last name on it.
[ooc: NFB due to distance, and for the boy mentioned!]
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Of course she had to question that. Even if it was after a whimper, and happened simultaneously with her shifting just a little to spread her legs further apart. apparently she could be verbally insecure at the same time as she was physically being pretty bold about opening herself up for him completely. Because that was what that motion was about: complete surrender.
Her hold on his hair tightened when his lips closed around her nipple.
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That was for everything. Not the words alone or the actions alone, but all of it together. She was wet and ready enough that a second finger slipped in just as easily as the first, but she could still feel the difference as her inner muscles briefly contracted around his fingers. She could also feel a want for more. Maybe she'd even ask, in a second.
"You say that like --" Whoops, her sentence got rudely interrupted by a moan. Something about the combination of his mouth on her breast and his palm against her clit. "-- like any other guys even like f-fingering."
They were going to end up coming back to all her bad previous experience a lot. She was sorry.
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"There is only one reason to not enjoy this," Hyacinthe murmured, his fingers picking up speed. "Getting your hands all warm and wet and making you moan? That's if they don't value your pleasure and in that case, cherie?" He nipped her. "Then they don't deserve theirs, either."
He kissed his way down her body, over the flat planes of her stomach and the soft curve of her hips until he was kneeling in between her thighs. "I am moving at a nearly unconscionable speed for the length of time it's been since I've last seen you," he declared, laying a sucking kiss to her inner thigh. "And only because you have encouraged me to do so. Giving you bliss should be no one's afterthought. Especially not yours." And then he leaned in and licked her.
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His tongue was a powerful thing. And it was just the one lick, so far!
She had a free hand. Almost without realizing she was doing it, she brought it up to her chest. Cupping one breast, squeezing the nipple between two fingers.
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Normally, he'd tell her to use both hands, but he was fond of the one wrapped in his hair right now. He bent back to what he'd been doing before, her taste sliding into his mouth in a way that made him groan, too. He liked the feel of her under his lips, the soft way she'd opened herself to him and gave him access to everything.
He slid his hands under her ass, tilted up her hips, and set to work.
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She was learning all kinds of new things here!
Like that she liked the assertive way he positioned her. And that he knew she was playing with her breast, and that he liked that, because she was a sucker for positive feedback. So she kept doing it, rolling the stiff peak between her fingers, kneading at her breast with her palm.
And as hot as it was to see him between her legs, she closed her eyes, her head tipping back. Which was kind of a trust thing. But also her effort to focus on really feeling what he was doing. Really soaking it up, because let's face it, she didn't really get this kind of thing a lot. "Oh my god," she sighed.
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This time was a wonder in many ways, and a complete disappointment in others.
Well, at least Hyacinthe could make up for lost time. His fingers kept working her over on the inside, while his tongue did the same without. He teased her with rough strokes, then soothed with long, soft ones, the flat of his tongue covering her everywhere. His free hand pushed her thigh open a little wider, giving him room to work and maneuver, letting him get closer still. His cock was hard to the point of pain, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered beyond making her come on his tongue.
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He was being ever so helpful about reminding her, though.
Even if the 'reminding' right this second was just pushing her further and further away from thinking about anything that wasn't how good she felt. Her breathing had become ragged, panting. Every few moments, here and there, she was shifting a little, anxious. Her whimpers were turning into moans, and some of them weren't as quiet as most of her noises so far had been.
The edge was approaching fast. If everything else wasn't clueing him into that fact, maybe it did that the hand in his hair was grasping tight. And involuntarily pressing against his head, as if to keep him right where he was.
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Maybe he'd get to try that before his visit was over. For now, though, he was slipping a third finger into her, and the licking had given way to a good, firm suck right where she was most sensitive.
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The added finger caused a gasp as she felt the way she stretched to accomodate it. A lash of pleasure all on its own - and then the suck drew a loud moan that dissolved into a keening noise that she'd probably feel (unnecessarily) embarrassed about in a moment.
But not while it was happening. Because her body tensed under his ministrations, and all the build-up came to its logical conclusion, and her muscles contracted and spasmed against his lips and around his fingers, all three of them making for a thrilling kind of fullness compared to how she usually did it by herself, and the pleasure rolled through her, leaving her breathless.
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Not that Hya was done, now that she'd come. Did they know each other a little better, he would have entered her then, riding her through her orgasm and then kept going until she had another. There was a thrill, he'd found, in continuing on from one to the next with no pause for breath in between. But until he knew her better, knew her likes and dislikes, knew her sensitivity, he'd play it safe.
He did continue to lap at her, though, all through her orgasm, drinking it down like wine. Carefully easing his fingers out, he plied her with soft kissed and gentle licks to help her come down.
And if his soaked hand wrapped around himself to give a few needy strokes, well, who could blame him?
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But as she was allowed to come down pretty gently - the aftershocks of his continued licks not withstanding - she took a moment to blink blearily at the ceiling as her body relaxed back into the mattress.
"Oh my god," she sighed. "Just... oh my god." Yeah, you already said that, Xan. "Hya, why is that so much better than my hand?"
There was no point in comparing him to other guys: at least her hand knew what it was doing.
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He squeezed his hand and let out a soft moan, nuzzling the inside of her thigh and leaving a wet streak behind. "Ahh, cherie, you were wonderful."
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"Me? All I did was, like -- make embarrassing noises." And she would've covered her face with an arm at that realization, or something, except that moan of his got her to gather up the energy to actually peer down at him.
"... Oh."
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He gave a sheepish grin then stroked himself again, long and slow since she was watching. "As I said. You're very enticing and I'm only a man."
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Even if that realization was only a brief one, because she could only focus on his face for so long when that was happening. "Oh god." You wouldn't believe she was a former spelling bee champion from how small her vocabulary sounded right now. "You're, like, really hard."
Which was an inane thing to say, sure, but her tone was something close to awed if not even enthralled, so she probably got a pass.
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"Have you seen yourself when you let go?" he murmured. "Even were I not there making it happen, I'd be this hard." He thrust up into his hand and shuddered.
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Like being a rapt audience. Possibly an active participant, but she was working up to that.
"How does it feel?"
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He wanted to push her back and just slide in, pushing her legs up to wrap around his waist. But he was getting an idea of what college had been line thus far--all demands and no concern--and was willing to wait until she was certain about what she wanted next.
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She looked up. "Are you good with just 'little'?"
She kind of wanted him not to be.
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Licking his bottom lip was a strange thrill after those specific words, too. And if that wasn't enough to get a new bout of restlessness brewing in the pit of her stomach, the way her hand slid down his abs would certainly help with that. There was a moment of hesitation where she prayed to whoever was listening that she wouldn't somehow screw this up - yes, she was coherent enough right now to be back to at least a low-level version of her usual fear of looking like an idiot - but then her hand wrapped around his cock. And she gasped against his lips, because looking and feeling were two very different things. And to feel more, she did her best to mimic what she'd seen him do just a second ago when he'd stroked himself.
"You want to screw me?" she asked, murmuring the words. They both knew he did, he'd just said so. It was just hot enough that she wanted to hear it again.
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But he did know when someone was looking for words. He was the Prince of Travelers, words were his stock in trade. "No," he said, with a small shake of his head. "'Tis too mild a word for what I want to do to you. I want to fuck you, Xanthippe, until we're both lying exhausted on your bed, unable to move. I want to move inside you, feel your heat, have your hands on me urging me on and demanding more. I want to thrust into you slowly until you roll me over and ride me because you need it harder. I want my mouth on your nipples and my thumb on your pearl and my phallus buried deep inside you, all at once."
He gave her a cheeky grin. "But do you want only for me to screw you, well, I suppose I can manage that, too."
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Her boneless post-orgasm haze was just completely gone.
"N-no," she said, before she got her voice somewhat under control. She licked her lip. "No, I want you to fuck me." she sounded pretty adamant about that, now. She maybe didn't have as good a handle on talking dirty but at least she could try and be clear about her enthusiastic consent. "Like, right now. All of that. Oh my god, I need you inside me."
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