Love Me. Hate Me. Fuck Me?

I pulled down my scrub mask and tried to make eye contact. From across the room, Lindsay saw me. Beaming a killer, winner smile, she nodded and gave me a little finger wave. The effect was cute and bewitching.

Silently, I stood against the wall watching her, drinking in her beauty. Lindsay was talking to a tall, thin blonde in sprayed on leather pants and a corset stitched up the back. The woman was a pirate lass, complete with a red bandana and a fake sword strapped low to her waist. Her body was tight and lean, a spring set to constant tension. I chuckled to myself as I contemplated having Lindsay and her friend walk my plank.

The conversation broke up and the women hugged. Lindsay then, looking at me, circled the room. She said hi to a couple friends and asked some frat guy dressed as Elvis to tap a keg for her. Then, walking with an exaggerated movement of her hips, Lindsay crossed over to me.

"Meow, Professor Matthews," Lindsay said giving me a hug and a peck on the cheek. She had never gotten so close before. For the first time, I felt those scrumptious tits boring into my chest. I felt my cock twitch in my loose fitting pants. Lindsay must have felt it too, for she looked up at me surprise clear on her face. And then she smiled.

Of one thing I was sure: I would never have a better moment. I leaned down and touched Lindsay lightly on the back. Pulling her towards me, so she could feel my cock against her, expanding and throbbing through my loose-fitting scrubs, I said, "You can feel that, can't you?" I felt her nod against my neck. I continued, "It is all yours, Lindsay. I know why you invited me and I want it too. Let's just cut the bullshit and do what we want."

Lindsay's breath came deep and hard. She was trembling, trying to maintain her composure. Her voice became a small, girlish whisper, "My room is upstairs, room 218. Hang out here for now. I've got something I have to take care of first. But come up in forty-five minutes. I'll be waiting for you."

Lindsay stood on tip toes to lightly nibble on my ear. Then she melted out of my arms.

Seconds were a lifetime; minutes were an eternity. A thousand thoughts ticked by as time did an unnaturally slow minuet. I watched the connections, the relationships at play in the room. Men and women did that dance, that endless mating ritual before disappearing in search of privacy. Some were couples, others were playmates. Strangers and future friends mingled into the mix. Talking, chatting, flirting, seducing as the night passed. And I observed it all, waiting for my moment, the appointed time when I would form my own connection.

Fuck it! I was tired of waiting. With twenty minutes to spare I went looking for Lindsay's room. At worst, I would just have to stand outside.

A few moments later I was standing in front of her door. The front was a colorful collage of pictures, quotations, and girly construction paper cut-outs. I noticed that it was open just a crack. Thinking that I would check out the situation, I pushed the door open.

Lindsay was lying back on her bed, shorts off, legs spread-eagled. She still had on her top, fishnets, and stilettos. The cat ears rested on a pillow next to her head. Lindsay's body was taut, locked into a pre-orgasm clench. Her mouth was slightly open and her eyelids were fluttering. She was so beautiful. I couldn't imagine anything lovelier.

Between Lindsay's legs was the blonde woman I had seen downstairs. Her leather pants were around her ankles. A tight, toned ass, framed by a leopard print thong, was raised up to my view. A tribal tramp stamp tattoo stretched across her lower back. While I could not clearly see the connection of tongue to pussy, the blonde was bobbing her head up and down with frantic enthusiasm. One of Lindsay's hands was on the back of the woman's head, pressing the blonde's face deep into her dripping honey pot.

The door creaked as it opened. Both women heard me enter the room at the same time. The moment had a slow motion cinematic feel. Lindsay's eye lids snapped open wide. A look of surprise marked her youthful, lust-laden face. The blonde's body tensed as she turned to face me. Despite strands of hair obscuring her face and an eye patch added for juicy Halloween flavor, I recognized the pirate's identity for the first time: Lynn Halloway.

The three of us stared in shock. We were a triangle locked together in that single humiliating moment. Lindsay, hovering close to orgasm, legs spread in desire; Lynn on all fours lapping at her student's splayed cunt; me gasping and shaking with debilitating surprise.

At this moment, I think I need to make an admission: I am an asshole. I am not proud of what I did next. They were underhanded, despicable, and deplorable. Rage gripped me, but that is not a proper excuse. I take full responsibility for my actions and their consequences.

I pulled out my cell phone, aimed, and took a snap shot. Then, without another word, I left.

Thirty minutes later I was at home sitting on my couch, still wearing the party scrubs. I was numb. Emotions felt bottled up within me, like there was a stopper in the way of a torrent. I wasn't sure what I was containing within. I felt betrayed, cuckolded, mocked. But did I have any right to these emotions?

What was Lindsay to me anyway? She was a professor's dream: a beautiful sorority girl that was willing to spread her legs for me. She was a target of my lust, a woman that I wanted to fuck. But she wasn't mine.... Lynn had gotten there first.

But that revelation made things worse. The surprise and shock was dead. I was no longer a statue. A raging heat, an angry burning, quaked inside of my soul. My blood boiled in my veins.

That bitch! I didn't like her, heck I couldn't stand her. Every time I passed her in the hall I could feel her disdain. A scowl, a sneer, a haughty glance -- these were the coin of her realm. Sitting in my office across the hall from her, I could feel a chill distaste coming from her direction. The sound of her voice made me shiver. Lynn was beating me in the publication race. She was probably going to steal my job. And now I would have to sit and watch as she stole a fresh coed prize right out from underneath me.

Fuck that! I was tired of this race. I wanted to end it. The bitter bile of disgust rose up within me. I needed to be done with this woman once and for all.

So I was left with the picture. It was fully incriminating; Lynn's face was perfectly turned to the camera. She looked beautiful caught in her indiscretions, evidence smeared on her face. Lindsay, in her wanton pose, was also clearly identifiable. I had already saved the image on my computer. Now I just needed to email it out to the right people. Soon the department would know that Lynn Halloway had gone down on one of her students. Her impropriety would be the end of her. Lynn would never survive the firestorm. Her only option would be to crawl into a hole and never return again. I was shaken back to reality when I heard three knocks at my front door. Ignoring the visitor was tempting, believe me. If I answered the door, an argument and a scene would be inevitable. I had nothing to gain in this discussion. Something deep inside, though, moved me to answer the door. Maybe it was my arrogance, or perhaps a desire to see Lynn broken. Whatever the case, I got to my feet. If she wanted to bring it, I was willing to serve it back.

Of course, Lynn was on the other side, and she wasn't looking for candy. Still dressed in her pirate costume, she stood in a classically combative pose.

Lynn was furious. If the sword at her side was real, she would have probably run me through. Instead, her leather clad hips were thrust out and cocked to one side. Lynn's arms were folded over her chest in a locked and guarded position. She had taken off the eye patch, and those two baby blues were giving me a dark, death glare. Her mouth was a snarl of contempt.

I waited for a long moment, door open, watching Lynn silently fuming. Something was building inside of her. Finally Lynn spat, "What the SHIT?!"

I just blinked blankly. I knew better than to respond. It would be better to let her rage run this course. Besides, I wanted to control the conversation -- not her.

She brushed me aside and entered my apartment. "Give it to me. Where's your cell?"

"Why?" I asked calmly.

"Oh fuck you!" She replied, acidly. Lynn stood facing away from me, scanning my apartment as she kept talking. "Are you so asinine that you would think I would stand by helplessly? Oh please, you sexist, pretentious, megalomaniacal prick! The picture needs to be erased and I intend to delete it from your phone."

"No," I said simply.

"What?!" Lynn turned to face me. Her face was a grimace of disbelief and rage. "What did you say?"

"I said no," I replied. My voice was a relaxed even tone. I couldn't let her get under my skin.

I could see the emotions warring inside of Lynn's head. She wanted to flip out and attack, but she also knew she needed to get the picture. So she gulped, probably tasting bile in her throat, and said, "Matthews, I am asking you a favor. Give me that picture. You know what it would do to me. You know that it will destroy me. Give me that bit of respect."

I thought for a second, taking in the desperation lingering in her words. Then I said, "You didn't say please."

Lynn rolled her eyes, barely reigning in the contempt. "Fine. Please. Give me the picture. I am asking you, Mathews. Please give me the picture."

I walked over to my bar and poured myself two fingers of fifteen year old Glenlivet scotch (which I saved for special occasions). As I prepared my drink I could feel Lynn's eyes on me silently watching. Waiting. I held up the tumbler, and contemplated the clear amber liquid that it contained. The liquid would feel like fire going down, but it would finish so smooth.

I raised the glass in a mock toast, and then shot the single malt down my throat. Liquid warmth coursed through my limbs, chasing away fear and cooling the anger. All I felt was cold, distant, and determined.

"No," I answered.

Lynn's mouth fell open in shock. She had been certain that I would drop everything and do her bidding. I would be the good boy, the meek and mild kid that would cave and give her what she wanted.

Fuck her. Perhaps, this is what I hated the most about her: that she just assumed that she would win -- and that I would give up.

I filled my glass for a second time as I talked, "Lynn, I don't like you and it's pretty clear you don't like me. So let's cut the bullshit and just realize that. You've done me no favors. When I came here I knew that the job was going to be competitive, and I was fine with that. I was prepared to try to make the best of it with my counterpart in the department, whoever they were. I was fine with going about my business and trying to win this thing based on merit. But instead, you were a bitch - a stone, cold bitch."

Lynn started to retort, "That isn't fair...."

Before I cut her off, "Shut up. It is my turn, Lynn. I tried to be nice. And all I got was a cold shoulder and a holier-than-thou stare. I tried... Lynn...." The words stopped there. I was seeing red, barely able to control myself. I needed her to leave; I wanted her to get the fuck away from me.

We stared at each other, our eyes locked. Neither of us did more than blink.

"What do you want?" Lynn said quietly. Her face was devoid of expression.

"Nothing," I answered. "I want you to leave."

"C'mon, there has to be more?" she asked.

"No there doesn't."

"Mathews, I am prepared to pay the pound of flesh," said Lynn said haughtily, hands on her hips.

"What do you mean?"

"Obviously you want something from me. This picture is a bargaining chip. I want the picture; there must be something you want. So let's bargain."

I replied, "I didn't ask you here. You came by your own choice. You seem to be the one with the motive.

"I see you looking at me...." Lynn's voice was quiet, soft.

"What?!"

"In the hall, when I go into my office, I see you staring. What are you thinking about?"

The ground beneath me began to shift. Lynn gently traced the nape of her neck with a finger; her nails drew a tantalizing shape. She continued, "I know you are undressing me with your eyes. You want to see what is underneath my clothes."

Another gulp of Glenlivet helped settle me. I was staring blankly, unable to process the words that were coming at me. I couldn't react. Lynn's presence repulsed me, but then there was this need....

Lynn stood looking at me for a long moment. She bit her lip in thought. "How about this?" she asked in a more brazen voice than I could have ever imagined. "How about I give you my ass?"

"What?"

A cold, thin-lipped smile crossed Lynn's face. She raised a hand up behind her. Then she swiftly brought her open palm down across her leather-clad butt. A deafening crack reverberated off my apartment walls. Her smile got bigger.

"You're joking?" I had never considered such a bargain. Faust would have been jumped at the opportunities.

Lynn walked over to the couch and bent over the back. She was facing away from me, her perfect, round posterior up in the air. The leather stretched tight over her luscious curves. Lynn wiggled her rear and repeated, "I don't jest. I was asking -- straight up - if you wanted to fuck my ass."

"In exchange for the picture?" I inquired.

"Obviously," she said.

"And why your ass?"

"Why the fuck not? Why do you care? Maybe after you fuck me I will get pleasure shitting you out tomorrow morning." Lynn craned her head to face me while she was still bent over the couch. Stray strands of blonde hair fell over her face. Her voice had instantly transformed from seductive to harsh and impatient.

Lynn continued, "Matthews, I am giving you this one opportunity. You can whip out whatever is in your pants, stuff it into my ass, and then bang the shit out of me, or I can leave. Make a decision. Indecisiveness doesn't become you."

"Lynn...." My voice trailed off. She had one-upped me again. I had never expected the fight to go there.

And what was worse was that I couldn't find the strength to tell her no.

"Fuck!" Lynn exclaimed in apparent frustration. "Don't pussy out. The choice is pretty easy. One way you get to bust a nut in my ass (I know you have you've been staring at it all year); the other way you are going to be in for the biggest fight of your life. My back is against a fucking wall. You are forcing me into a cataclysmic altercation. Matthews, you will be taken down with me. Remember you were also at that party with all those undergraduate tricks and treats. That picture came from somewhere and I am sure it can be traced back to you."

As more and more venom dripped from Lynn's mouth, I couldn't help but stare at her impressive ass. I marveled at the way it slowly, liquidly undulated against the back of my couch. With a twitch and a shake I could feel it calling to my cock. It would feel so good to take her, to slide down the pirate costume and ram my dick inside of her bowels.

"I have been fucking her for the past month, you know," Lynn said with a twisted, curling smile. "That little twat was a tasty fuck, but you will never know. She hates you now. You took her picture too. You soiled her. You will never get a taste. So salvage your evening and take me. Cut you losses, Mathews."

How dare she! Lynn, that sanctimonious bitch! Something dark unfurled inside of me. A desire flared red-hot. But it was like nothing I ever felt before. This was lust, pure and true, but it co-mingled with another unseen quantity. Rage? Anger? Hate? Self-loathing? I didn't know. But I had to do this. I had no choice. My body was in slow motion, crossing the room. She was my pit, the cause of my ills and frustration. By fucking her, maybe it would all go away. Maybe I could take control of myself, by using her in this, the most impersonal of personal acts.

Placing my hands on the firm cheeks of her butt, I stood behind Lynn. "Do we have a deal?" she asked. "My ass for the picture?"

I growled as I nodded.

That wasn't enough, though. "Say it," Lynn demanded, pushing her butt against my crotch. My cock grew as she increased the friction. "I want to hear you say it."

"Then yes," I snarled. "Fucking yes!"

"Ok. Fuck me, then. Shove your cock inside of my fucking ass!" Lynn implored me.

Hesitation gone, I tugged at the waist of Lynn's leather pants. At first they didn't want to come down. With incremental yanks, however, the cheeks of Lynn's magnificent ass came into view.

I stood and admired her curves for a moment. The tribal tattoo, gave me a deeper hint into Lynn's darker side. A leopard print, t-backed thong did little to cover Lynn's butt from my probing eyes. Still, the sheer fabric was in the way. I wanted nothing to stand between my cock and Lynn's winking brown eye. I pushed the thong and pants down until they were bunched around her ankles. Now I was able to do as I pleased.

I spread the cheeks of her ass. The taut, wrinkled hole of her butt came into view. It looked delicious. Perhaps I should lick it? Maybe later.

For now, my cock would feel so good inside of her. Fucking this ass would be perfection.

But I couldn't resist. The treat directly below her ass looked too scrumptious. The soft folds were moist and inviting. They were immaculately trimmed to a blonde, downy dew. I leaned down and gave Lynn's cunt a long lick from behind. Already juicy, her twat was a sweet, sweet dream. I slashed my tongue from bottom, aiming for the tender nubbin of Lynn's clit.

The heady, tangy flavor of heaven exploded onto my tongue. Lynn jumped. She whipped her head around, her face a discombobulated mixture of lust and fury. "Fucker," Lynn screamed, as she jerked away. "Did I say that you could lick my cunt? Fuck you! That wasn't part of the deal! You get one thing and that is my ass. That's all!"

I pulled the cheeks of her ass apart and spit on her brown-eye. Next I hocked a load of spit onto my palm. I couldn't believe this moment. I was about to take my biggest rival, my most hated enemy, up the ass. I felt nothing for her but disgust and loathing. Lynn had humiliated me beyond the breaking point. Now it was the time for her to feel that same humiliation as I speared her from the rear.

I stared at the loogie before wrapping my fingers around my shaft. Rubbing my wet hand up and down my cock I lubricated the rock-hard flesh. While I wasn't terribly concerned about Lynn's comfort, I did want the fuck to be a smooth slide.

I placed the tip of my cock outside Lynn's sphincter. She drew a breath as she waited in nervous anticipation. I growled softly, "Do you want my cock? Do you want my cock in your tender ass?"

Lynn gave me a response I wasn't expecting, "No, not really. You disgust me. But if you are going to do it, bitch, fucking do it already. Stick your fucking sanctimonious cock in my ass! I bet you can't even fuck, you prick."

Lynn's eyes twinkled devilishly. She knew that she was stepping over the line. She knew that she was daring me on and that there could only be one reaction. I smiled. She had just communicated everything. Lynn wanted this. She wanted to be fucked, but the hate was too tantalizing. A grudge fuck was what she desired. A grudge fuck was what she was going to get.

I held Lynn tight around her slender waist. The balls of my fingers dug into her supple skin. I closed my eyes and took a breath. Feeling centered, I thrust my hips forward. Slowly but forcefully, I pushed my cock into Lynn's ass. Resistance met my forward momentum.

"Fuck! That shit is tight," I exclaimed, trying to push in deeper.

Through a grimace, Lynn breathed, "I know it is, you perv."