tagMature137 Kenealy Hall

137 Kenealy Hall


Rolling down University Way, Don Adams had to smile. The buzz of a weekend just beginning was evident as the brothers of Pi Alpha Sigma tossed a football in front of their massive Georgian house. Girls approached, and friendly catch became a circus of bravado, shouting, shoving, hey ladies - big party at ol' Pi Alpha tonight.

Don wove down side roads, at last reaching the parking lot. The weekend exodus had begun, affording him a spot at the end of the first row. Climbing out of his seat, he welcomed the chance to stretch. His daughter had gotten far enough away to make these visits possible, but understandably infrequent. In fact, since the accident...well, it had been a while.

Kenealy Hall - plain brick cube, same as the others. Good thing for the sign. When Don graduated, most of these places were holes surrounded by chain link fence. Back then they didn't need all this security, he thought, confronted by a card reader at the door. He pondered options - what was Heather's number again? - when a reflection in the plate glass suggested a solution. A petite Asian girl struggling under a massive backpack scanned her ID, then held the door ajar. Your hair goes gray, and suddenly you're harmless.

Entering the lobby, Don heard his accomplice begin a labored trudge up a side stairwell. He turned down a hallway to the south wing, through a pair of swinging doors. Three young men swaggered past him.

"Come on, man, I mean I was sooooooo drunk. How could I know she was-" The doors swung back, ending enlightened discussion. By then, Don had reached his destination: 137. Determined knocks produced no answer, no eye at the peephole. Didn't she share the suite with three other girls? Maybe he should have called first.

"Hey Mr. A, looking for Heather?"

Coming down the hall was one of his daughter's roommates, in this case one fresh from the shower. Damp black hair stopped just above her shoulders, and a plain towel outlined an alluring form. It would have been hard enough to recall her name without this distraction. Linda, maybe?

"Hello, uhh..."

"Lisa," she offered, smiling slightly. "Just got back from practice. Heather didn't say you'd be coming today."

"Not until tomorrow, I know. Thought I might surprise her."

"Well, no need to wait out here," Lisa said, reaching for a set of keys in her shower basket. She led the way into the common room. "I think she has chem lab until about five-thirty. Should be home shortly." The voice softened as it disappeared into a bedroom.

The girls had certainly improved the spartan quarters. A vine near the television sent tendrils sprawling around the ceiling and door frames. Next to the cheaply upholstered love seat, tropical fish darted about a small tank. Even actual paintings, far better than the clichéd posters and tapestries that, actually, that Don had put up in his dorm years ago. One piece caught his attention: a red pillar jutted upwards, lifting a blazing sun. Swollen lips descended to engulf the totem.

"You like it?" Coming from directly behind Don, Lisa's voice startled him. "Inspired by one of my exes."

Turning, Don saw that she was still in her towel, but by then she had grabbed the back of his neck and forced their lips together. Shock turned to satisfaction, but a twinge of conscience made him force her away.

"Lisa, I - what the hell are you doing?"

"It's been a long week, and I've got some issues to work out. Besides," she said, a mischievous smirk turning up one corner of her mouth, "how often do you get to fuck your roommate's dad?"

I don't make a habit of it, Don thought, as the temptress led him into a bedroom. No worries, she assured him, Heather used the other room, Sharon was home for the weekend. A shiver coursed through him as she passed a hand over his ring, but he offered no resistance.

"Welcome to my boudoir," she said, locking the door behind them. Cramped would have been a kind assessment. Two of everything, desk, dresser, bed (lofted), forced into half the space of the living area.

"Now why don't you just sit down," Lisa said, shoving him into a desk chair.

Don's sense of propriety made its last feeble stand. "I really don't think that..." and his voice failed.

"Then don't think," she said, unzipping his fly and pulling the throbbing dick from his jeans. Kneeling in front of him, Lisa stuck out her slender tongue. She slid it up his cock, then wrapped her lips around the head and sucked. Don leaned back, a sigh escaping as her tongue ran back along his length. When Don felt her flick his sack, he looked down, and their eyes locked.

"Mmm," she moaned, sucking one ball into her mouth. A hand grasped his slick pole, stroking slowly. Don was transfixed, absorbed in her chestnut eyes. It reminded him of the way Ellen had - he shook his head, erasing the thought.

The stare broken, Lisa returned to Don's shaft. Gripping him at the base, she swallowed him to the back of her throat, stroking her fist up as she withdrew, down as she plunged back onto him, constantly meeting his gaze. The only thing missing, he thought - and then she was fondling his balls.

Don almost complained when he felt the hand leave, but as he watched it slide up her thigh and under the towel, he stifled any objection. It was all too much - caressing him with her mouth, satisfying herself, those eyes - how could she expect him to keep contro-

"Hey Lees, I'm back. You here?" It was Heather's voice.

Don froze, mid-breath. Lisa's wide eyes showed the capacity to expand even further. Lifting her head, she responded. "Yeah, just got back myself."

Floorboards creaked across the common area, into the other bedroom.

Silence, and Lisa smothered Don's softening member. It wasn't long before he reached fullness again, and in fluid succession Lisa stood, turned, and let the towel fall. Leaning backward, she welcomed his cock into her.

It had been so long since Don last felt that soft, enveloping warmth. In a mirror on the opposite wall, he witnessed Lisa's full beauty. Her toned body rocked up and down, forward and back. One hand rose, stroking flawless round breasts, pinching tiny dark nipples. The other fell to a neatly trimmed snatch, massaging her clit. Don could see his thrusts just below her circling fingers.

The voice came back from the next room. "I think I'm gonna grab a quick shower before dinner."

"I'm right behind you." Lisa's rhythm held steady.

"Got plans tonight?"

"I don't know, we'll talk at the commons."

"Alright, see you in a few." Footsteps and a closing door signaled the return of privacy.

Free from the forced moderation, Lisa grew determined. Breath quickened, strokes increased in ferocity, rubbing became frenzied. As Don savored the intensity, Lisa gasped, her insides convulsing around him. The climactic vibrations proved irresistible.

"Lisa, I'm going to-" his cautionary whisper was cut short.

"It's okay, just let it go."

Grunting, Don released into her waiting chamber, and they both stopped, sharing contractions. As the moment passed, Lisa stood and wrapped herself once again in the towel.

"You might want to clean up, too. Left at the end of the hall, second door on the right." The crooked grin returned. "If you feel like having some more fun this weekend," she said, scribbling something at her desk, "give my cell a call." Tossing a note at his feet, she walked out of the room.

Don lingered, confused by improbability, overwhelmed by sensations. He had to leave, but beyond that, nothing about the weekend was certain anymore.

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