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Ava stood gazing out of the tall broad office window, surveying the bustling city. She had to admit the view from this vantage point, thirty floors up, was magnificent. She walked closer towards the smoked glass, peering at the small figures moving around the busy streets below. Her heart skipped a beat, feeling the sense of vertigo sheâd experienced as a child, times when her father had taken her climbing in the steep foothills of the French Pyrenees, near Biarritz.
Up here, in the large office atrium, the atmosphere was an oasis of silent calm, utterly isolated from the noise and magnetic energy of the daily work going on at street level. She looked at her watch, thinking how amazing it was that, in just one hour, the scene would change completely, as the workers wended their way back home.
Ava strolled over to the large desk positioned along the edge of one sleek wall, running a long finger experimentally over its surface. Barely the minutest ridge betrayed the dark grain of the exotic hardwood, its polished surface naked bar an exquisite oriental orchid in a Chinese vase. Subtle uplighting inset along the top of smooth cream walls cast a subtle glow along large rectangular panels, with expensive green art deco silk fabric set in wide mahogany frames.
She had arrived in the fast lift a few minutes earlier. Ava checked her appearance in the gilt mirror surface doors. Very glam. The dark Katherine Hamnett outfit was tight, suiting her slim, graceful figure.
She was neither an egotist nor selfconscious, but was well aware how others viewed the lustrous sheen of her long chestnut hair, her attractive tanned skin and wide green eyes. Looks certainly had their advantages in life, but that was the start and end of it for her. She preferred to use her feminine intuition and brains. Drive and ambition were all that really mattered in her finance world.
She paused to consider the strange sequence of events that had brought her here. That brief letter that had arrived a week ago, out of the blue. She was shocked when she saw the address at the top and the writing, recognising it instantly. Knowing it was him, even after two years. As she read the message, inviting her to his office, she felt a strange fluttering, stomach cramping sensation, recognising that was something she hadnât experienced in a long time.
In the intervening time since theyâd seen each other sheâd kept a low profile and changed names of her social media accounts. Sheâd become virtually invisible, except to those who knew her locally, hundreds of miles away in the inner circles of her own finance world.
So why exactly had he tracked her down? And why would he contact her now, after all this time? Why, after all the things that sheâd been through, and the things theyâd both done to each other?
She remembered how theyâd first met, seven years ago. Strong memories stirred inside her, creating goose bumps down her spine. The reasons theyâd parted were multiple, and complex. But the intense times theyâd spent together had been more than just a youthful phase. Theyâd been mentally demanding and physically challenging, as well as downright exhilarating and fundamentally life changing. Or at least she felt they had for her. Maybe for him too?
How much did he remember of what theyâd done with each other and her real desires and needs? And how did he feel about the shocking event that had forced them apart, and about her, now?
Ava knew that was the reason she had come. She had to know once and for all. To see if Lorenzo had matured in his views, from those of that headstrong young man, but also to see if he still desired the same things she did. That strong and primal drive that anyone who had it, working in a professional world, would keep well hidden.
New beginnings
On that first Autumn day at college theyâd noticed each other. He was dark, suave and confident, she was beautiful, y and nervous. Â
They were both studying banking and finance degrees, and the first view Lorenzo had of Ava was by the small refreshment stand, next to the lecture theatre. What caught Lorenzoâs attention was the innately suggestive way that she drank her coffee, tipping the cup gently towards her mouth, caressing the edge of the cup with her lips as she sipped at the hot, foamy liquid. He suspected heâd be happy watching her doing this all day, but their first lecture beckoned.
Theyâd glanced at each other again across the wide room, as they sought places to sit in the banked rows of seats for a funding lecture. He watched her from a position just behind where sheâd decided to sit, to be more attentive to the lecturer at the front of the class.
That first day he was content just to watch her. In between their many lectures she moved with a slow, sensual walk, taking in the world around her in an interested and animated manner. A way at odds with most of the other students, who mostly studied their phone screens for messages, or spent time flirting with each other.
Towards the end of the day heâd headed to the library, to see if he could borrow a few of the text books for their finance course. To his surprise there she was, standing in a corner, right by the photocopier.
That was when he first glimpsed her naked skin. She was bending over the tall industrial copier machine, opening a finance book at a specific page, placing it on the large glass copier plate, almost sensuously. He saw her white Tshirt ride up and then, he saw it. A small marking, briefly exposed as she leant out over the copier, a light oriental tattoo in the middle of her deeply tanned back.
He had little time to try and make out what the tattoo was, his attention drawn lower to the line of her dark silky panties, peeking out provocatively above the line of her tight black hipster trousers.
He watched her for the next few minutes, as she rotated and swivelled over the copier, a motion showing off her firm, y bum to perfection. All he knew was that he desperately wanted this girl.
But it wasnât easy. First, he had to find out more about her and who she was. Casual research, through polite chats with some of the other students heâd met, revealed that her name was Ava. She was studying the same threeyear finance course he was. It turned out that, during the first semester, they shared almost all of their classes.
That first week of term he spent hours sitting in the back of their lectures, gazing at the gleaming shine from her glossy hair, tucked up in a tight dark coil above the delicious curve of her neck. Then, midweek, he suddenly spotted her turning round, briefly looking at him. His heart skipped a beat. Had she deliberately tried to catch his eye?
Like most young, attractive women, Ava was attuned to catching glances from admiring men. But she was not yet experienced enough to know what to do next to keep their attention, or how to handle them. The reality was Ava liked the look of Lorenzo, but he appeared amazingly confident and almost completely unapproachable. Quite the opposite of how she felt about herself. She was simply too shy to try and introduce herself, or to try and strike up easy conversation.
But, when two people have a natural feeling for one another, life has a habit of bringing them together. Over the next few days, things hotted up between them. On more than one occasion Lorenzo saw Ava pretending to look in her bag, or bend down to get something from under her seat, taking a furtive glance or two behind her.
Then, in week two of lectures, sheâd glanced directly at him, for a brief moment, holding eye contact for a few microseconds, before turning away again quickly. He could have sworn her neck blushed.
That was the encouragement he needed, and he knew the challenge was on. Heâd imagined he was going to have fun when heâd arrived at university, but never guessed that circumstances could become quite so interesting and delicious, and so quickly too.
The difficulty he had was that this girl always hurried off to her next class, rather than hanging around between lectures to chat, like other students. After a few more frustrating days of trying to track her, like a jinking hare, he decided he had to make the first move.
Heâd spotted a flyer for an amateur dramatic theatre group in the student office, lying in a pile on the desk. At the end of their fourth Friday lecture, he raced for the door at the front, pulling out the flyer. He stopped her, just as she tried to squeeze past him, putting his arm around her to take her aside in a gentle, yet commanding manner.
In truth, she was relieved that he had broken the ice as, try as she might, she simply hadnât been able to pluck up the courage to speak to him, or work out something original to say. She knew his name by now, after a few subtle questions. It was Lorenzo. A statuesque model of young, virile masculinity, Ava thought he was y and cool.
In his deep, engaging voice, heâd started talking about acting. How sheâd be perfect for a student production he was organising. Then, after five minutes, heâd asked her out for a drink that evening. He said it was to discuss the student play, a perfect part he had, for her. Sheâd readily agreed to meet him at a local cosy city bar they knew.
That evening, it was only when they were both sitting at a table together, talking, that he admitted the theatre flyer had all been a ruse just to get to meet her. Sheâd laughed at that, admiring his bold initiative, knowing she would never have plucked up the courage to ask him. When they mutually sensed that the ice was broken between them, theyâd got roaring drunk that first night together, challenging each other with rounds of tequila shots.
Heâd walked her back from the bar to her college dorm, him steady, her staggering slightly. Heâd paused at the entrance door and leant in under her hood, kissing her cheek gently. Then heâd walked off with a casual wave, disappearing into the dark and the clear night.
The next day Ava woke with a raging headache and a vow never to touch agave spirit ever again, or at least not until next weekend. She thought about this charming man. When theyâd sat together in the bar, the previous night, Lorenzo had an extrovert, easygoing manner, as well as an unusually attentive listener. A good catch.
After the tequila, a drink she really wasnât used to, sheâd started telling him things she rarely divulged to anyone, apart from her very close female friends. And that was part of the problem. Now she was worried sheâd given too much away far too much about herself.
Despite the relaxed feeling sheâd had the previous evening, talking and being with him, she was nervous about them meeting up again at lectures, the following week. That was partly why, at the end of the evening, sheâd deliberately avoided giving him her phone number. Â
She decided to keep her mobile phone switched off until Monday. She knew she did like Lorenzo a lot, so that meant she had to keep her allure fresh and exciting, or at least for as long as possible, to keep him on the hook. After all, every woman knew maintaining your mystery was a key part of the early game. Any man could easily lose interest unless, they were kept intrigued and engaged, or until theyâd definitely decided that they were really interested in you.
Lorenzo was a real enigma compared to the few men sheâd met and dated. He was clearly highly confident, headstrong and not just a little impulsive, elements that made him instantly attractive to her.
But there was also a strange, darker side to him sheâd noticed, early in the evening, something she couldnât quite put her finger on. She still didnât know what it meant. It was partly the way he looked at her, so calmly and yet intently, keeping her gaze that little bit too long for it to be completely comfortable. Maybe it was just good news that he was really into her, just like she felt she was with him.
 But, on reflection, she felt there was also maybe more to it than that. With a sigh, she sank into the chair, pondering, realising that it would drive her mad all weekend, until she got to the bottom of it.
On Monday, back at college, she deliberately stationed herself at the coffee bar, outside the lecture hall, judging he was bound to see her as he came in, through the big double doors. When she spotted his red scarf outside the entrance, Ava had just enough time to compose herself, turning her back to the bar on the stool. She watched his reflection in a glass window as she saw him pause, stop, and then start to walk over. She pretended to be unaware of him as he joined her, resting his long arms on the white counter beside her.
âHi Ava. Had a good weekend? Sorry I dragged you to the bar on Friday under false pretences. Sorry there wasnât an acting job, but I had a great night and I really enjoyed it. I hope you did too?â
His tone seemed casual, but Ava caught the double meaning. She realised from the way heâd stopped, before heâd come over, that he was as nervous and guarded as she was, and that heâd also asked two questions in quick succession. She had to play it cool. Â Too much of both of their feelings were at stake now to jump into things quickly.
âWhich question would you like me to answer first, Lorenzo?â
âOh, sorry. I guess I was gabbling there. But a good night out?â
âI had a cool time. Thanks. Did we really knock back eight of those tequila slammers? I had a head like a bear the next day.â
She kept it light, giving him wriggle room in case he had only really been after a oneoff night out, after all. That way they could both blame it on the alcohol. Neither of them had yet mentioned the kiss.
âSure, I got up pretty late. But I do remember all of the night, in case youâre wondering. Perhaps we can do it again some time, but maybe this time with a little less tequila. Thatâs if youâre up for it?â
So, it was out there. He liked her, and he was keen to see more of her too. Ava knew it was up to her. Lorenzo was putting her in the driving seat as to where this went next. But then they still had to decide between them exactly what âthisâ was. She saw him order a large coffee and take a sip, studying the way he moved his mouth gently to suck a sliver of foam from the cappuccino off his upper lip. Not knowing that she was now watching him do the same thing he had, that first day of lectures, drinking coffee exactly the same way.
In Avaâs mind, she was already imagining what it would be like to kiss him properly. He glanced over at her, mid thought, and they both blushed simultaneously. It was one of those moments nothing needed saying. They sat at the bar, drinking their coffees in silence.
When the bell rang for lectures, neither of them wanted to be the first to move. In the end, it was Lorenzo who grabbed his scarf and leather satchel, bulging with study books. It seemed a completely natural, casual action when he put out his hand to help her jump off her café bar stool. Sure, Ava thought, he was definitely interested.
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The library
What happened next made Ava realise things werenât that simple in their relationship. For the two of them there was never going to be a regular boy meets girl scenario, with boy waiting until girl decides precisely when to let boy get physical. Despite his calm demeanour and gentlemanly behaviour, Lorenzo had other ideas about Ava.
It was a Wednesday afternoon. Ava had planned doing library research on their latest college assignment. Despite the cool autumn, she knew it would be hot in the library, so she put on a light blouse and knee length skirt. That way she could stay comfortable. Most of Lorenzoâs friends had gone off to play sports at the various grounds and arenas around the college. So she was surprised, but also secretly pleased, when he suggested he join her in the library.
The brainchild of a radical eighties architect, the college library was a huge white building that looked like it had been built inside out. The exterior looked slightly dated, like it had been created from Lego bricks. But, inside, the architectâs vision had stood the test of time, with a huge, open and calm space for students to study and read in. It also had unusual large, wide bay windows with huge single panes of doubleglazed smoked glass, with counters at elbow height, a metre deep, all overlooking the nearby sports fields. It was no surprise students often came to the top floor to study, knowing they could take a wellearned break to see their favourite sports in action, from this fantastic vantage point.
With three of the top sports teams in action, it was quiet in the library, with many of the students having abandoned study in favour of watching their favourite teams and potential new crushes from the field terraces. It was a great chance to get close to your team, grab a few beers, and have a shout, along with friends, all as part of the deal.
When Ava and Lorenzo reached the libraryâs top floor, there was only one other student. Theyâd barely had time to pick a table in a corner of the library, an area with muted lighting away from the big rectangular windows, when the girl there exclaimed loudly. She suddenly jumped up and began bundling everything into a big orange bag. A minute later she had disappeared hurriedly, through a side exit. Clearly she had somewhere to be urgently, and was late.
They settled in at the long table, spreading out all of their college books and notepads. Ava checked her reading list for the tricky essay they both had to do. She was missing one textbook. She smiled at Lorenzo, sitting across from her, then got up from the table.
âBack in a second. Thereâs a book I need. Donât go away now.â
âAs if. Iâd much rather be out there on the sports field, but these essays donât seem to write themselves, as Iâm quickly finding out.â
She headed down a nearby line of books, a subtle glow from uplighting along the deep shelves, everything in the building carefully designed to relieve eye strain. Lorenzo watched her go thoughtfully. He got up, pulled dozens of books out, piling them up on their table.
Beside one of the long wide windows, in the end aisle, she found the volume she was looking for. As she leafed through, to check what she was after, her attention was caught by a small movement outside. She turned to watch a player in red shirt and white shorts heading at high speed for goal, a solitary defender left struggling to keep up with him. Surely he would get a goal? Intrigued as much as anything by his athletic grace, she walked the few steps over to the long stretch of smoky glass, facing the field. Placing the book to one side she rested her elbows on the metre wide oak wood windowsill, leaning forward to watch, standing on tiptoes to see this wonderful specimen of manhood a little better, out of the long wide window.
She watched him kick the ball expertly off his left foot, and score. Ava made a fist but, suddenly aware of being in the library, turned what was going to be a loud exclamation into a hissed, âYes!â
She was entirely unprepared for what happened next. As she began to lean backwards, coming down off her toes, she felt a strong hand push her forcefully forwards. Her elbows slipped on the counter, and she had to put out her arms in front of her to recover her balance. Behind, the hand pushed her even further forward. She began to panic. What was happening? Before she could cry out, she heard a familiar voice behind her, hot breath whispering in her ear.
âAva, itâs me, Lorenzo. Sorry if I startled you. Itâs just I saw you there, leaning in at the window. Something just came over me. Itâs that tight grey skirt youâve got on. Look, I didnât mean to scare you.â
She stood there, stock still. What the hell had just happened to him? Theyâd barely touched before now, even in the bar, drinking tequila. Yet Lorenzo had appeared out of nowhere and was now standing behind her. Was he trying to force himself on her? She said nothing for a minute, taking in the pressure of his hand between her shoulder blades, her breasts pushed firmly forward, against the sill.
She let her body slowly begin to counteract the rapid onset of the boost of adrenaline his sudden action had pumped into her system. New chemicals were now beginning to steady her racing heart and ragged breathing. She was relieved, yet strangely excited. But this wouldnât do. She had to make it clear who was in control.
âWhat exactly are you playing at? I like you, but this is all a bit unexpected. How do you know weâre even alone in here, Lorenzo?â
She had deliberately used his name, like his mother might have done when he was younger, making him recognise and then take responsibility for what was now happening, or about to happen.
âItâs just us, I checked first. Look, I have to tell you something.â
Ava tensed but felt his hand pressure on her back relax slightly.
“Well, make it quick and good, my backâs beginning to hurt.â
âAva, I really want you. Iâve wanted you since I first saw you.â
âThatâs not very politically correct. Remember âme tooâ? Women decide what goes these days. So, what are you doing, Lorenzo?â
âYou, hopefully. Sorry, shit! That was bad and incredibly crude.â
Ava was taken aback. Barely a week of knowing this guy, and here he was, in a library corner, swearing in front of her for the first time and, apparently, considering having his way with her. But, regardless of her temporary anger toward him, something else deep inside her desperately wanted to see how this tense situation was going to play out. Despite the shock of it at first, she was also getting really turned on. Time to take a gamble. Maybe a really big gamble.
âSo, what happens next? I can hardly move. You know that.â
âTrust me, Ava. I think youâll understand, when this happens.â
Lorenzo moved in close behind her. She felt his body press hard against hers, then a jolt of electricity ran down her spine as he leant in, kissing behind her right ear, nibbling her neck lightly just below the tied bun of her long chestnut hair.
âShit Lorenzo. Phew! Thatâs taking things onto another level.â
âDo you think you can trust me, Ava? I mean, really trust me?â
âCome on, I hardly know you. What do you need my trust for?â
âThis.â
He leant forward, pushing her hands towards the inch wide safety opening bar that ran along the whole length of the windowâs base.
âGrab the bar in front of you. Use both of your hands.â
She had to lean far forward to grasp the stainless steel bar, her calves straining as she stood high up on her toes, slim waist pushed into the edge of the broad expanse of oak. Avaâs arms and shoulders were taut, her round breasts hanging gently just above the sill. Her legs began to quiver with tension, then went weak as he kissed her again, nuzzling his tongue amongst the dark stray hairs that fell all around her neck. She began to breathe hard again, suddenly feeling a warm sticky moisture in her panties and down between her legs. Realising she was beginning to enjoy this far too much, for a library.
âNow, donât let go of that bar, Ava. Whatever you do.â
âWhy, what would happen then?â
âYou donât want to know, believe me.â
That last remark sounded colder. Ava felt anxious but excited. She swallowed hard, but didnât let go of the steel bar. She had to know what would happen. Had to know why she felt so scared yet roused and more alive, at this very moment, than she had felt in a long time.
She closed her eyes and tensed her stomach as his smooth hands slid round her waist, pulling her blouse out from her tight skirt. He slowly undid the buttons on the blouse, moving up from her navel. He ran a cool hand up her back, under the loosely freed blouse, onto her bra strap. Sheâd put on a white lace brassiere that looked good, rather than fully supporting her breasts.
He expertly flipped the metal clasp open, moving his hands around her front, pulling the bra down over her soft globes. Ava felt a tingling tightness under her arms as the soft weight of her breasts suddenly swung free, out from underneath her. He parted her open blouse, pushing her naked breasts forward onto the oak windowsill.
Her head bent forward, Ava opened her eyes again, her breathing quickening. She watched her engorged nipples moving up and down, swelling, on fire with expectation. Each time she took a sharp intake of breath her breasts lifted slightly from the sill. Then, with each excited exhalation, her nipples lowered, lightly grazing the surface of the wood, each contact creating a tiny spark throughout her body.
His arms either side of her waist, hands under her open blouse, he cupped her breasts lightly, rocking her gently back and forth as he stroked her aching nipples, alert and erect as toy soldiers on duty. She could feel his hips behind her, and the tense ridge of his cock began to press insistently between her buttocks, as he hardened.
âBreath out, now Ava.â
She was confused, but did as she was beckoned. He removed his hands from her breasts and swiftly rotated her skirt anticlockwise.
âWww. What are you doing?â
She felt his hand slide slowly around her right buttock to the front of her thigh. He left the skirt waist clip in place, but there was a zing as he pulled down the zip that ran half the depth of the skirtâs fabric. Seconds later, his hand slipped across, entering the newly created gap in the front of her short skirt, slowly snaking its way over her tight stomach towards the top of her tiny white lace panties.
Ava gulped. If she wanted out, she realised now was the time to say something. But her subconscious was already firmly in charge, so she stayed still. Her thighs tensed and her legs began to shake, her hands slipping, struggling to grip the shiny window bar in front of her.
It was still a shock when she felt his fingers curve seductively into the top of her flimsy lace panties and begin to make their way steadily downward, his hot digits parted her short, soft pubic curls.
She had a sudden wish that sheâd shaved, then chided herself, realising how ridiculous that train of thought was. How could she have possibly known that this would happen, this afternoon? That she was about to let herself be dominated, here in a library?
Seconds later, his middle finger foraged into the crease between her soft labia, dipping softly inside her. Over the quiet of the library, a soft squelching sound could be heard as his finger entered her. Using the juices of her excitement to help him in his task, he slid his index finger in to join its companion, sliding it silently upwards, the tip touching the hard nub of her clitoris. Ava jumped, fighting to keep a grip on the window bar. He began to rub and rotate his digit around the delicate organ.
Ava bit her lip, struggling to retain control of her body, and where these sensations were quickly taking her, everything happening so fast. Lorenzo was clearly no amateur at this. His left hand began to move in smooth rotations, over her buttocks, tense and tight underneath her skirt, suddenly gripping her arse in his full palm.
Ava squeeked, both breasts flattening against the wooden sill.
Then his left hand moved round her waist, under her blouse and over her flat stomach. Reaching forward he grasped the weight of her left breast firmly, hefting it in his hand, teasing her sensitive nipple between his long fingers, testing and tempting her.
He slid his fingers around her soft globe, pausing to grip her hard, Avaâs extended nipple between his fingers. He began to squeeze his digits together over her nipple, to the same slow primeval rhythm he was rubbing her clitoris, turning her on with her twin tiny, throbbing buttons. Ava moaned. Her lovepurse oozed, soaking her gusset.
 Lorenzoâs right hand slid further inside her glistening pussy crease, his fingers slipping all the way in readily, deep within her. Ava squeezed the hand now inside her. She was about to lose all control.
âI think youâre about ready. Now itâs my turn, Ava.â
Behind her, she heard a metallic clink of a belt being undone, then the sound of a zip. There was a rustling fabric sound followed by the unmistakable quiet snap of him pulling himself free of the elastic.
She realised with a start that, despite what her emotions wanted, at that moment, she simply couldnât allow this to happen, not now.
âLorenzo no, you have to stop now! Iâm not on the pill.â
Behind her there was a silence and a pause. All she could hear was her own laboured, excited breathing. She was so turned on. It couldnât finish like this, could it? She looked in the window reflection. Her starved face stared back. Ava made an important decision.
âLook, Iâm going to turn around. Itâs my turn to be in control.â
She released the window bar, almost staggering as she came down off her tiptoes. She twisted slowly, greeted by a stiff specimen of magnificent manhood. Lorenzo was fully erect, ready for her. This was probably going to be easier than she first thought.
âMove in, towards me. Let me lean back, against the wall.â
Lorenzo looked frustrated, but did as he was bid, his dark chinos around his ankles hampering his progress, as he shuffled forward.
âStand still. Put your hands either side of me, on the window sill.â
As Lorenzo leaned forward Ava slowly and provocatively moved her tight skirt up, high around her waist. She saw the expression on Lorenzoâs face change, soften. Slipping her long fingers in the sides of her tiny panties and keeping his gaze, her green eyes on his, she slid her panties down slowly, just a few inches, over her taut thighs. She watched him as he glanced down at her lightly furred mound, its curls already moist with joyjuice.
âYes, Lorenzo. Thatâs what youâre about to get. But on my terms.â
She took his long penis forcefully, slowly moving her slender hand back and forth, gripped around his strong, scorching member. His hands were spread either side of her, his arms occasionally brushing the sides of her breasts as she moved, Ava saw he was studying her hand and its steady, rhythmic action along his penis. She decided to take things up a notch, desperately needing her own satisfaction too.
She leant forward, placing the scorching, sizzling tip of his member at the entrance of her glistening tunnel. Lorenzo gasped but held steady. Ava began to gently rub his manhood over her clitoris, pausing to slip the head of his cock between her labia, coating it with her essence. She moved it back up again, using him to get her pleasure, to rub her clitoris until she could hardly contain herself any longer. She slipped his penis tip back down into her vagina entrance once more, relishing the fullness of his throbbing cock between her legs. She had to time this just right. Ava pushed back slightly, pulling him out of her as she started to pump him faster, forcefully. Her other hand slipped between her legs, rubbing furiously at her clitoris.
When she was about to come, she increased the pace of her hand on his cock, concentrating her efforts on its hot head. Almost as she felt the first wave of her orgasm hit, Lorenzoâs whole body tensed. She slowed her fast pace, steadily squeezing the end of his cock with her hand. Extracting a slim finger from her throbbing nub, she pulled the front of her panties forward, ready for what she knew was just moments away.
Lorenzo groaned quietly as he came, a warm milky jet of semen shooting forward to hit her flat stomach and then dribble down into the waiting white lace hammock of her soft panties.
A few seconds later, her fingers kneading her clitoris, Avaâs legs began to quake. She had to lean back harder to steady herself against the wall as she also came, a glorious wave washing over her from her core all the way up to her swelling breasts. She watched the wild expression in his eyes with a smile, their orgasms so close together.
Ava slowly pulled her semened panties back up, the tight lace fabric once again covering her nakedness, Lorenzoâs warm white jism smeared over and dribbling slowly down her flat belly. For a few long moments, Lorenzo didnât dare move, leaning his weight against the windowâs edge, concerned he might collapse. Ava swiftly pulled him towards her, kissing his earlobe, his dripping cockhead pressing gently into the slick dampness still seeping through her thin panties.
Across the top floor of the college library, one of their classmates entered. He glanced around, looking for a suitable table, noticing a couple on the far side, standing by a window. They were seemingly in a close embrace, masked by a stack of library books on a near table. It was alright for them, watching sports games, he had work to do.
Minutes later, the two young people had gone, their mutual education and extensive studies apparently over for the afternoon.