The Arrangement Pt. 05bywatcher616©
This is the story of what happened to us ---- the mistakes we made, and the things we learned. The others involved have asked me to write it, so I'll speak for them, as well as myself. I'll tell you how an unlikely arrangement reshaped our definitions of sex, pleasure, and love.
Part Five - Seduction By Power
Thank God the library was quiet. As she closed the door to the study room she'd managed to secure at the last minute, Leah dropped her bag on the floor and pulled the nearest chair out from under the table.
The sun was low beyond the large windows, sending vast amounts of light across the tops of the buildings that lay just beyond the library tower... but if the campus was meant to be a striking sight, she didn't care.
By the time she heard the sound of the door latch clicking shut behind her, her hand was fumbling its way beneath the waistband of her sweats, and under the flimsy, soaked cotton of her panties. As she brushed her clit, she couldn't restrain a groan –– finally she could touch herself.
It had been too long a day.
Without any further thought, she dropped into the chair, sliding her butt forward on the seat so she could straighten out as her hand crawled along her wet lips, and her fingers began a teasing ritual. Her body shivered and she nearly laughed –– she was so aroused it felt impossible.
The whole day she had been inundated by thoughts, memories, ideas... she was supposed to see Kate later, but there was no limit to her number of orgasms. The arrangement had proved that to her. So having one now, to tide her over, would be just fine.
Slowing her hand through sheer force of will, Leah tried to catch her breath. She was beginning to break out in a sweat, so reluctantly she freed her hand from her pants, then raised her arms so she could pull off the hoodie she'd worn for the day –– the college-branded sweater that hid the fact that she wore no bra under her similarly-college-branded tank top.
Leaving Kate's this morning, she'd felt too hot to dress up for the day... and no one cared on her campus. She could wear what was comfortable. What gave her easiest access.
As the hoodie fell to the floor she rocked the chair back onto two legs, planting her feet as wide as she could both to stabilize her, and to open her thighs for her pleasure. She held the chair in place with the weight of her back as she lifted her legs up enough to pull her pants down over her firm backside, and then roughly shoved her boyshorts panties down behind them.
Nothing was elegant about this; it was carnal. She needed to cum, and this was the only place on campus she knew would give her some privacy.
As her fingers returned to the swollen lips of her pussy, her breath caught, then expelled in an erratic exhale. Her thighs twitched immediately –– her strong dancer's legs were so ready for her pleasure, they were urging her on.
She wanted it to last. She didn't want the orgasm she had in this unacceptable place to be a furtive one. She would bring herself to a sobbingly-intense climax in the place where she came to learn. It was irresistible –– one more taboo she could shatter during this productive week of sexual breakthroughs...
If she made it last.
She moved her fingers slowly, deliberately. They slipped inside her –– just two –– as her palm ground against her clit. A week before, the sheer sensation probably would have pushed her over the brink... but Kate had taught her stamina. She could build up, be patient...
Her eyelids became heavier with every thrust of her fingers. Her nipples made themselves obvious through her tight tank top, and every muscle in her torso rippled beneath the cloth. She felt powerful –– her whole body, honed by years of dancing, was now rallying to a different cause.
And the world outside had no idea. The library study rooms had big windows, meant to help beleaguered students not feel claustrophobic. But on the fifth floor, there was no chance Leah would be seen; none of the buildings facing the windows were high enough.
This was her secret, and that truth sent a jolt through her. Carefully, she rocked the chair onto one leg, and then pivoted around so that her open thighs pointed to the glass. She presented her throbbing, wet sexual core to the entire campus, and manipulated it firmly.
None could see.
Her breathing began to accelerate. She reached up to her cloth-covered breasts with her free hand, and began kneading them, squeezing her nipples. The delicious agony of a whole young body burning began to curl her toes, and she could feel the sweat beginning to run down her back.
She was a dancer –– she loved to sweat. Now more than ever.
She started to drive her fingers faster –– looked out over the campus and tried to smile between gasps.
She didn't hear the door open behind her, but she did hear it close. Someone came in.
It started in the afternoon business lecture. Three hours of macroeconomics, which Leah was good at, but not interested in under the current circumstances. For the whole morning, and through lunch, she'd tested her body with the occasional caress –– the odd brush or fumble.
But the professor of the course was a young woman –– a rising-star business type who had always impressed Leah with her style. She was well put-together, and had a certain standing among male students; if they ever got the chance, they'd fuck her.
Leah had never understood that sort of sentiment –– why would anyone see a professor responsible for teaching a course as a sexual object. It ran contrary to her worldview.
Or had run contrary. But sitting in class with her legs squeezed tight together beneath the cover of her desk, she began to understand.
It wasn't hard to be tempted; it was a warm enough day that the prof had taken off her jacket –– she always wore business suits with skirts and button-up blouses... form-fitting and chic. With the jacket removed, the straps of her bra were just visible beneath the cloth of the blouse –– both were white, but the telltale bumps of the clasp were there.
And it was all Leah needed.
The prof became Kate –– or better, a lover she and Kate could seduce together. As she turned her back to point to some information on a slide, Leah watched her tight skirt bind against her ass... so was well-shaped and firm, like Kate's.
Leah wanted to hold onto as she sucked on the professor's clit...
There was no stopping the thoughts –– no way to hold them back. Everything inside Leah's body was singing for pleasure. Sexual satisfaction had become a constant tonic over the past few days –– a way for her to forget everything that was genuinely wrong in her world.
And with two hours of lecture to go, she couldn't simply order her body to stop.
Reaching into the pocket of her hoodie, Leah grasped her phone, pulled it out, and checked it beneath the desk. No text back from her mom, or from Brendan. No one would miss her when she disappeared for another night. No one would wonder who was pleasing her, or who she was pleasing.
As she checked her phone, Leah also carefully pulled her left arm in through the sleeve of her baggy sweater, so that as she returned to taking notes with her right hand, her left hand could caress her stomach.
Kate spent so much time kissing her tummy that Leah was losing any self-consciousness about her bikini figure. It was muscle beneath her skin –– not much as some girls who played a lot of power sports, but enough to make he feel thick when she tried on too-small swimsuits that would suit her less-toned friends.
No longer did she worry about that, and as her fingertips pulled up the bottom of her tank top and began playing over the skin around her belly button, she just managed to control the deep breath she had to release. She kept her eyes on her paper, or on the prof. She never looked to the side –– never wanted to know if someone was watching her.
Deep down, maybe she hoped someone was.
For long minutes, it was just her belly she played with... that was enough. But as the prof got further into the lecture, and moved more, and the air conditioning seemed not to keep up. Dots of sweat started to appear her back.
Sweat turned some people off, but after licking it off Kate's back, Leah couldn't imagine anything much more erotic.
Her mind was quickly awash with images of fantasies that could never happen: going down to the front of the class, taking the prof in hand, tearing open her shirt, pushing down on the console, dragging off her skirt...
Leah had to close her eyes and see it, just for a second, and as she squeezed her thighs together she could feel the rush of blood and pleasure that the images brought.
There was no stopping now: her fingers pushed south, under the waistband of the sweats she'd worn for the day. She shouldn't be touching her pussy in a classroom. She knew that – it was obvious.
But... but her hand would stay above the underwear, as if it was playing by the rules on a fumbling high school date.
The grip of her cotton boyshorts on her hips, bum and thighs was tight, and seemed to be growing tighter by the second. Her pussy was oozing its ambrosia into the fabric, and as one finger, then another, forced its way down over the cotton and between her clenched legs, they were instantly lubricated.
And she could barely contain the jolt. Controlling her breathing became all-important. She dropped her pen, started to pretend she was bored –– studying the back of her hand. She clenched her jaw, breathed through her nose, rubbed the fabric that was covering her vaginal lips.
Her imagination began to run roughshod over whatever reason she had left. She imagined the prof realizing she was masturbating –– calling her down, insisting she do it on the console in front of everyone.
That made her hotter. There was no room left for any hint of reality in her fantasies, and she wanted to cum...
But somehow, the brakes were thrown on. She didn't even consciously withdraw her hand from her pants –– only realized it was gone when her stomach muscles unclenched, and her breathing got a little easier.
Wait until you get out, she thought to herself –– the last vestiges of the responsible young woman she'd taken so much pride in being, now bargaining desperately with her... trying to keep her from making the sort of mistake that would, in one fell swoop, end everything.
Why hadn't that voice intervened to keep her from joining the arrangement to begin with? Why hadn't it stopped her going to Kate's bed?
Leah didn't know –– didn't care. But she heeded the warning now. She would not cum in a room full of strangers... but she wouldn't wait long either.
She just had to find some privacy, so she wouldn't be caught.
Of course her first reaction should have been panic. That would be the rational thing –– the sort of response that a mortified, responsible teenager would have upon being walked in on in mid-masturbation, in a library study room.
Some blood did rush away from her pussy as her brain summoned it to help fuel panic... but she was too far along to stop. There was no hope of that.
As her fingers slowed, but remained inside her, she looked to the door the only way that was convenient; by letting her head hang over the back of the chair, so she could see whoever it was –– upside down.
The movement naturally raised her hips too, as if presenting her pussy to the intruder. There was no hiding what she was doing –– no escape.
Maybe no need for one.
He was a maintenance man, probably close to 60, stocky with a sizable belly, but a respectable air. He wasn't greasy or grimy, wore the sort of glasses that made him look smarter, and his hair was combed neatly in a salt-and-pepper side part. His eyes were wide, his mouth closed, and as he ground his jaw within his jowls, Leah could see veins pulsating on his temple.
No words came from his mouth. He was leaning partly against the door that he'd just closed, and his hands were at his sides –– as if he was standing nervously, unsure what to do.
And, of course, that made sense somehow. Enough blood was flowing through Leah's mind for her to begin to understand the situation he'd just found himself in; a girl young enough to be his daughter was in the midst of a potent act of sexual pleasure... what was he to do?
If he reported her, she could claim he'd done something improper. If he ignored her, but someone else found her, he could be held responsible. If he stepped into the room... anything could happen.
But he had to wait for her reaction to see what 'anything' might be.
Naturally, he'd expect her to scream –– jump from her chair, pull on her clothes, demand he leave. Make up an excuse and try to slip away.
Leah considered doing all of those things. She also, for the first time, paid attention to the slim window that ran up the wall beside the door. How she hadn't paid attention to it when coming in, she couldn't say –– except that she was so desperate to cum that she would have probably ignored anything short of people already being in the room.
The maintenance man, whose nametag said 'Allan', had stepped sideways after closing the door, thus blocking the view through that glass.
Perhaps that was as much of an invitation as he could make.
In her current state, there was nothing Leah could do but accept it.
"Hi," she said breathily, and he didn't reply.
With a new scenario building inside her, she found the strength to draw he fingers from their warm, wet sheath, and to settle back down in the chair. She made no effort to cover herself; she delighted in the slipperiness of the plastic seat as she turned sideways, so that she could look over her shoulder at him.
She smiled, and made sure her attempts to catch her breath were obvious. She knew her breasts were obviously rising and falling beneath the tank-top... knew she was probably radiating heat and arousal.
Allan was doing his best not to respond.
"Can you stay there, so no one else can see?" she asked innocently –– purposefully making herself sound naïve. "I'm glad it's you, and not someone who'd try to hurt me."
She said that –– hinted that he wasn't going to try to rape her –– without ever acknowledging the truth that it could happen. Inside, the rational part of her mind had to be hammering on the passion-soaked walls that had risen around it... she wasn't thinking about any of the consequences of what she was doing, about what could happen to her... how she could be harmed.
Pleasure was clouding everything, and she didn't care.
It was purely luck that Allan was the sort of kindly man to nod.
Leah smiled at him, then continued her torment, "I've never done it with someone watching before..."
That was a lie, but it served her needs –– and Allan's. And somehow, she didn't think the awkward time Brendan had watched her finger herself counted. So far, Kate had never let her cum without being involved somehow...
"I shouldn't be doing it here, I know. But I couldn't help it. You understand?"
She sounded like she was reciting lines from a porn film. It was perverse, but so very irresistible. And as she rose from the chair and turned to face him, exposing the flesh between her belly button and mid-thigh, she felt a rush of power.
His eyes crawled up and down her, and she could see his hands wavering at his sides, as if readying to move. She realized she needed to set expectations, rules... she could set rules just like the ones in the arrangement. She had that power.
"Would you like to take your penis out?"
That question jolted his eyes up to hers. She waited for a second, then reached down with both hands, pushed her sweats and boyshorts down around her ankles, and kicked off her flip-flop sandals before stepping out of them.
Wearing just a sweaty tank top she stood before him, then looked down at his crotch. His left hand was moving towards the bulge behind his black pants, and as it moved she saw the glint of a wedding band.
The pleasure surged inside her again. It was obscene; this was a respectful, nice-seeming older man –– probably a good dad, and a good husband, and she wanted to watch him fall to the pleasures of her flesh.
She could also use his wife to get what she wanted: "I know you don't want to cheat... that's okay. We won't touch. Just... watch each other. No different than if you have to take care of yourself by looking at some pictures, right?"
All the right things, she was saying –– all the things to allay his guilt as he undid his belt, his trousers, and dropped his fly.
"People can see you from behind through the window, so make sure you don't let your pants fall," Leah advised, and he nodded.
Pulling the sides of his button-up workshirt aside, he revealed a fresh pair of boxer-briefs that had begun to tent. They rode beneath his gut, which was large and round... but not unattractive. He carried the weight well, and though Leah would never have expected it, she was aroused just at the sight of his flesh.
Perhaps more aroused at the knowledge that she was convincing a much older man to expose himself to her.
As his thumbs slid under his underwear's waistband, he set his eyes on Leah's mons, then pushed down. His cock was not large, or elegant, but it was hard as it sprang into the air. As she watched it come free, the young dancer's breath caught –– and this was genuine, not just for him.
Suddenly she was mesmerized by what was happening –– by the prospect of seeing this man release his seed for her.
She licked her lips unconsciously, then gripped the bottom of her tank top and hurriedly pulled it over her head. As she dropped it to the floor, she didn't even seem aware of the fact that she was now entirely naked –– nude in the library, with an older man staring at her as he began to stroke his penis.
Allan noticed –– swallowed hard, struggling to wet his throat but finding that his mouth was too dry. He let his jaw hang open as he breathed carefully, moved his left hand up and down evenly. It was as though he was testing himself –– fearing that, at any moment, Leah would evaporate like every other fantasy.
Her feelings were surprisingly the same. Finally, she was learning how to use her sex the way the girls she'd always hated did. An older man was at her mercy... and she was, strangely, at his too. She wanted him to enjoy seeing her –– wanted him to get pleasure from watching her. It was validating somehow.
And if it was wrong, the part of her mind that would say so was to be ignored.
No more delaying; she stepped back to the study table, hopped up onto it and tested its strength by sitting on its corner. It didn't budge, so she spread her legs –– one dangling over each side of the corner, with her pussy at the point which was conveniently aimed right at Allan.
Quickly, almost desperately, she began to touch herself again. Her body was burning more than she'd realized –– she'd been so close before, and now she didn't have far to go again. As her fingers squeezed either side of her clit, and stroked up and down in a way Kate had shown her, she began instantly to shiver.
She slowed herself determinedly... let her fingers back inside her. As they went in, she looked up at Allan –– locked onto his eyes so that he could watcher her jaw fall open, and her breathing become heavy.
Every push into her came with a twitch, and as her eyes dropped to Allan's penis, and his steady strokes up and down, she realized her timing was wrong. She couldn't last –– not for another minute.
Her clit was throbbing, and every thrust was jamming her palm against it. Her fingers were maneuvering inside her, and her hot fluids were dripping off the corner of the table. She felt her legs tense and straighten out as if she was seizing; her stomach tightened, her back locked, and her whole body seemed to draw into itself.