sampippy | Outside Voorhees Hall, Columbia University, New York, Thursday

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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!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It was a combination of poor self-esteem and being trapped in a particularly vicious kind of sexual culture. Probably shouldn't have spent all of high school chasing the acceptance of the Cool Kids, in retrospect.

Because he felt amazing, too. Sure, it'd been great the first time, too, but this was still different. She was just a bit more relaxed, just a bit more willing to lean into the pleasure of it all rather than second-guessing herself at every turn. That made it a lot easier to appreciate how well he was filling her up, and how the weight of him on top of her felt hot rather than like a trap, and how his hand on her breast immediately brought a new layer of sensation to the whole thing.

How was she supposed to let him leave once his visit was supposed to be done?

Her nails dug into the back of his neck. Her teeth found his bottom lip and worried it between them.

Chasing coolness at Fandom was a ridiculous proposition anyway--and still far better than at whatever school she'd gone to first.

He was glad that Xanthippe had shed some of her brittle self-chastisement now. She was focusing on the important things: her, him, the pleasure spilling between them. Now was not the time to be worried about what he was thinking--it was not time to be thinking at all.

Hyacinthe gripped her leg more tightly and eased it up, closer to her chest, giving him more room to push into her. His tempo was increasing, rocking into her harder, faster, deeper. D'Angeline spilled from his lips and a harsher, more guttural language. 'Twas hard to keep speaking his third tongue in moments like these.

Especially when the tongue he was born with wanted to be wrapped around one of those sweet, pink nipples of hers.

Oh, his tongue was welcome anywhere on her. Within reason, anyway, because if he somehow got the idiotic idea that he needed to pull his cock out to get his tongue somewhere, she'd be annoyed.

But judging from his quickening pace, that was not an issue she would have to worry about. Her gasped and moaned words were all in English, but they were fragmented, mumbly, breathless. Repetitions of his name, adjectives that served as compliments all on their own (because what else would hard and thick possibly be under these circumstances?) and the different iterations of 'please, please' that were getting more and more frequent.

And 'please' what? It was safe to assume the answer was just more. Ever harder, faster, deeper. She didn't think she was going to last very long but as long as she did, she wanted him to keep hammering into her to the hilt.

In fact, some of that thought made it out of her mouth, as well. Enough that he would be able to fill in the rest.

Aahahahahano. No worries there, Xanthippe; Hyacinthe was only human and there would be no pulling out to try to pleasure her some other way. He wasn't that selfless.

But her half-choked requests for more? That he could--and so happily would--do. He tugged on her again, like he could somehow bring her closer still, hips snapping into her with his lithe strength. With this kind of enthusiasm, he couldn't wait to get under her, so watch her just let go.

Of course, watching her let go in any position was high on his priorities right now.

He sucked hard on her nipple, a little rougher now than when they'd started. But his lips were soft when he kissed his way back to the other, anxious to leave neither unappreciated for long.

Getting to watch her let go in this position seemed pretty imminent. Not there yet, but getting closer with each relentless thrust. She was squirming underneath him, trying to tilt her hips just so, instinctively looking for that little extra bit of friction. As if she could get any closer to him.

The hand that had been on his neck ended up back in his hair. Hopefully he enjoyed some random tugging, and if he didn't, well, it was his own fault for having such great hair for grabbing. She needed something to hold onto! Roughly.

There weren't many words left in her moans anymore.

Oh yes. Hyacinthe quite liked random tugging. And not so random. Especially when it meant that the pretty girl beneath him was close. But he needed her more than close. He needed her there.

"Come for me, Xan," he murmured in her ear. "I want to see you lose it. I want to feel you come on my cock, cherie. Elua, you're already so wet and tight, I don't know if I'll be able to handle it."

He yearned into her, barely pulling out before slamming back into her, leaving gentleness behind, nearly mindless with the pleasure of just being inside of her.

And to think that just before he said all that, Xanthippe wouldn't have thought she could get any more turned on than she'd already been. Guess she was wrong. And how spectacularly so, because hearing him say those words - words that she was going to be thinking back to when she was alone and needing... inspiration - just seemed to push everything into an even heightened level, every sensation turned up to eleven.

And when that was combined with the physical change for the rougher, well. Since he wanted to see her lose it, he was in luck. She held on for several thrusts, her ragged moans getting a fraction louder with each one - and then unraveled, choking on air as the orgasm hit her, leaving her gasping and clinging to him as she did exactly what he'd wanted her to.

He felt her clench all around him and Hyacinthe couldn't help but give a needy, broken cry. Blessed Elua, she felt wonderful. Even imagining it hadn't come close to the reality. He fucked her straight through her orgasm, not stopping, for three, four, five hard strokes--

Before he too gave into his need and came hard, his hand in her hair and her name on his lips.

So that was what it felt like to get fucked roughky when you were already coming: overwhelming, in the absolute best way. It drew the orgasm out for her, making her shudder and whimper until she could see and hear and feel him come apart on top of her.

He was beautiful like that, by the way. Although everything seemed beautiful to her right now, as she was panting and coming down from her high.

She was counting herself in that assessment, correct? Because to Hyacinthe, she was the most beautiful thing in the room. He sprawled across her, panting and replete, his forehead touching hers and gave Xanthippe a bright, roguish smile--one that was a little tired and dopey around the edges.

That had taken a fair bit out of him, yes.

"You are exceptional," he murmured, stroking a curl between his fingers.

"I'm pretty sure you say that to, like, everyone," Xanthippe mumbled. But her smile was on the soft side all the same. Because even if he did say that to everyone, he was still saying that to her, right now, so she was allowed to feel good about it.

"I should probably be saying it back to you, too."

"Not hardly!" he said with a laugh. "No more than I use the same endearments for people, cherie. That's...what 'tis the word? Tacky? I tell you that you are exceptional because you are," he said, his thumb tracing over her lips. "You are not forgettable, Xanthippe. Were you, I'd not be here. But I am, because I wanted to get to know you better."

He grinned, nuzzling her neck. "And enjoy you more," he added. "Cannot say that did not cross my mind."

"Oh."

Such a pleased little sound.

"I mean, I was kinda surprised you even came here," she admitted, sort of trying to hide her face in his hair, now. "I mean... It's been a year."

And yes, yes, he'd just said she wasn't forgettable but all the same, it'd been just the one night.

Yes and after that one night, he'd been intrigued. That was something like catnip for a hearty Tsingano lad.

"Did you think I'd forget?" he asked softly. "Or that I'd gotten all that I'd wished?"

Xanthippe shrugged, vaguely. As much as she could without moving too much, anyway. She was pretty comfortable where she was.

"I just thought you probably had, like, easier company around." She didn't even mean that in a slang sense of 'easy'. Just people who were on the island or near it, and who he probably knew better. "Like maybe you'd be too busy."

"Most of those I cared for graduated with you," Hyacinthe said softly, shifting out of her. He took care of the condom, disposing of it carefully, then eased back alongside her.

Then, after a split second of thought, pulled her closer and tucking his arm around her. "The only one who did not was Dante and he practically moved out of the dorms last summer. Your invitation was timely, cherie. Gave me aught to look forward to."

Xanthippe curled up against him some. Cuddling was, funnily enough, yet another thing she didn't get enough of.

"I'm happy you came here," she murmured. Just in case there was any doubt about that. "Today's already pretty much better than the whole year here's been." Slight exaggeration, but sex-wise, definitely. "I don't think you should leave."

"All right," Hyacinthe said, amused. "But you shall have to explain it to my mother and Phedre both why they are there and I am not."

"Do they read emoji?" she asked. "Because I could probably explain it in emoji." As opposed to any human words, because that way lay mortification. "There'd probably be a lot of eggplants. Also, maybe a horse..."

She was enough of a nerd that even though she was obviously joking, she also halfway looked like she was trying to figure out which emoji she'd use, regardless.

Hyacinthe burst out laughing. "I don't even speak this 'emoji,'" he said. "Though that sounds like something I ought be thanking you for saying."

Xanthippe paused, her lips parted and her brow furrowed as she parsed that. Because she hadn't even thought of it like that.

But now she did. So her eyes widened a little.

"Oh! Oh, that was supposed to be a play on 'riding'." Because that would be a part of why he should stay, clearly. Still, she her expression turned into a smirk. Kind of a vague one, like she wanted to hide the urge to. "But, that other thing -- I could, I think, see myself saying that? I mean, you're not small."

"I am fine not being 'gargantuan,' either." Haycinthe said, still highly amused. "So long as my partner is deriving pleasure, I am satisfied." Ba-dum tsh. "And so you wish to inform my mother that you're too busy riding me to let me attend my graduation? Why, Xanthippe, I'd no idea you were so bold."

Xanthippe blushed. Guess they'd discovered the limit in her joking boldness.

At least she didn't stanmer, though. "Well, only if she couldn't, like, actually read emoji."

"She cannot," Hyacinthe said with a small grin. "Nor can she read English, for that matter, nore speak more than a few words. But Phedre can, so she is the one you'd have to worry about."

"I don't know who that is."

She... didn't actually know a whole ton about him to begin with, did she?

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