College Life: How I Got Inbykinkyashley07©
It was after 4 o'clock that Friday afternoon and there I was sitting in the admission office of the local university nervously waiting for my 4:30 interview with an admission counselor. The room had that fake homey quality that adorned most colleges these days; sofas instead of chairs; end tables instead of countertops; soft lighting instead of fluorescent bulbs; live plants scattered throughout. A good attempt as the place was built to give the appearance of comfort even though there was no denying the clearly utilitarian and corporate feel of the place.
I left school right at 3:00 and came straight here for my 4:30 interview. I had debated whether to try to go home and change out of my school uniform, but there wasn't really enough time. I attend a private coed Catholic school in Arizona, and if you had to guess what kind of uniforms they made us wear you'd be painfully right. We all wore matching white polo shirts with our schools crest on them, and, to give you some real choices in your day, we had the option to choose between a plaid and a khaki skirt. I went with the plaid. My skirt was a bit on the shorter side, which was fine at school when I was just around other leering high school boys; but, in this more formal environment, surrounded by adults, it made me a little self-conscious. It didn't help that a few minutes earlier a girl emerged in a full on pinstripe pantsuit. I couldn't help but second-guess my decision not to change clothes.
I looked at my iPhone to check the time: 4:27 pm. My heart skipped in my chest. Why was I so nervous? I was supposed to be there. Ever since I was a little girl my parents talked about this University like it was the only one out there. Never mind that there are thousands of colleges in the United States, I was meant to go to this one. Now, I admit it is something of a family tradition: both my parents went here; three of my four grandparents, my older brother, an uncle and not one, but two cousins. It was just what my family did. I was meant to be the next. And I really did want to be next.
The problem was that I was pretty sure I wouldn't be able to get in.
I'm not stupid. I've seen the rankings and the guidebooks and even talked to my college advisor. With more and more students applying to more and more colleges I knew my odds were slim on a good day. Add that to the fact I knew I wasn't the best student, and it was enough to make me very worried. I needed a new plan, a way to set myself apart and was hoping an interview would present that unique opportunity.
The voice snapped me from my nervous thoughts and brought me back to reality. It was a time. A surprisingly young and attractive man was standing at the entrance of the hallway holding a black portfolio with gold corners looked in my direction.
"Hi," I responded bubbly, jumping up quickly and walking in his direction, "I'm Ashley."
"I'm Josh," he offered shaking my hand, "I'm an Admission Counselor here and will be the one interviewing you."
"Nice to meet you, Josh."
"Do you need anything before we get started? Coffee? Water?"
"No, I think I'm good actually. I had a smoothie on my drive over here."
"Great, come on back to my office and we can chat."
He led me down the hallway past office after office of identical rectangular rooms. Small plastic placards adjacent to large wooden doors announced their occupants.
"How's your day going so far," he asked, making small talk on the way.
"Not too bad," I replied, "glad it's Friday."
"I couldn't agree more. In fact, not only is it Friday, but you're my last appointment before the weekend."
"Nice," I responded, unsure of what else to say.
His office was the second to last at the end of the hall. It looked like all the other offices we had passed with a light colored wooden desk, ergonomic chair behind it, and a small sitting area to one side that had four chairs surrounding a small square coffee table. He ushered me to one of the chairs facing the window, his second floor office facing a picturesque view of the main quad.
"Wow... nice view," I remarked taking my seat, fixing my skirt and crossing my legs.
"I know, right? Sometimes it can be hard to focus with such a distraction."
He smiled at me and I saw his eyes quickly gaze down at my legs before he recovered and took the seat across from me. Was he just flirting with me? I had the incredibly vain thought that he was referring to me when he said a distraction but I quickly realized how silly I was being and disregarded the thought almost immediately.
He started in with his interview questions and I did my best to seem charming and interesting. He asked me the sort of questions you'd expect in a college interview: how I was enjoying high school, what classes I was taking in the fall, what my favorite subjects were. All of it was pretty basic. Then he started asking me questions that I was less confident about answering.
"So, do you happen to speak any foreign languages?" he asked.
Really? This was an interview question? How many kids does this guy interview that are bilingual? Apparently, there were enough to justify asking it in an interview.
"Ummm.... I took two years of Spanish, does that count?" I offered.
He smiled and then wrote a note in his portfolio. That clearly wasn't a great answer.
"What about outside of classroom or outside of school? What sort of stuff do you do? Community service? Internships? Any, cool, international travel experiences? Anything like that?" he probed.
My heart started pumping in my chest. I never had an internship. I could count on one hand the number of times I left the state, much less the country. Two years ago I tutored a kid from down in the street in math. Did that count as community service? I knew I was screwed.
"Ummm... I used to tutor kids after school in math," I replied, grasping at straws. "Oh, and I also baby sit on the weekend. Oh... plus, I spend a lot of my time dancing."
He seemed to perk up at the last part, but I knew this wasn't going well. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat and re-crossed my legs the other way, and that's when I noticed it. His professional demeanor skipped a beat and I caught him staring down at my legs and skirt while I repositioned myself. I couldn't be certain but wondered how much he could actually see from his angle.
That's when it occurred to me. While I was quickly realizing I was not quite admissible on my merits, I still had something going for me. I was getting excited thinking about my new strategy for getting into college. I knew that I wasn't your typical blonde-haired, blue-eyed bombshell, but I was still good looking. Granted, I was more on the petite side, but I knew how to turn guys on. It just hadn't really occurred to me that I could seduce someone like a college admission counselor. But maybe it was possible.
I remembered that my ex-boyfriend Trevor had a thing for me any time I wore my schoolgirl uniform. Of course, he liked the plaid skirt especially. Maybe Josh also has a thing for horny school girls? And I was horny! I hadn't been with anyone sexually for months. Not since Trevor and I broke up. He had been both a moron but was still a fun person to fool around with. Perhaps I could find someone to fool around with again? Perhaps someone older? Perhaps someone that could help get me into college?
What snapped me out of my internal debate was the ringing of his office phone. He looked startled for a moment then got up and answered it on the third ring.
"This is Josh... yes... yes we're still talking but we should be done soon... no, of course not Martha, there is no need to wait for me. Go ahead and go home. Just forward the phone and I'll be sure to lock up as soon as we're through here. Have a great weekend... Thanks... Bye Martha."
My heart raced. It was almost too good to be true. His secretary had left for the day and I knew at least part of him was turned on by the sight of me in that skirt.
"Sorry about that," he apologized, returning to his seat. "My secretary just said that we're the last ones here. Everyone else apparently left to start their weekend early."
He laughed awkwardly and I smiled.
"So I just have a few more questions and then we can take off as well."
It was my last chance so I decided to test the waters a little.
Josh asked me some final details about extra curricular activities and what I was looking forward to about going off to college. I did my best to answer them in a way that made me sound more involved and more interesting than any other girl he had interviewed. But, every now and then I would either squirm in my seat or shuffle my legs and see if he would go for the bait. See if he'd try to sneak another peek between my legs. And he did. Every time. Once he actually stared a moment too long and then as if realizing looked up at me and clearly forgot what he was saying. Perfect.
With the interview coming to a close I decided to go for it. Though terrified, my newfound courage, together with my genuine desire to get in even though I probably didn't deserve it, made me put it out there and just see what would happen.
"Ummm... Josh. Now, I have a question for you," I asked innocently.
Trying to maintain his professional demeanor he confidently replied, "sure, go ahead, what do you want to ask me?"
I took a deep breath and before I even knew it the words tumbled out, "Do you know what color my panties are?"
He became visibly flustered and his eyes got wide.
"No... No.... Uh.... No, of course not... Why would you even... We shouldn't even... Why did you.... We shouldn't be talking about this," the sentences tumbled out of his mouth in disjointed interrupted phrases. He added, "No. This is so wrong. You're still in fucking high school!"
Trying to save some ground I tried to mitigate my words.
"I'm sorry Josh, I really didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. It's not wrong if that's what your worried about. I am 18 after all and all I asked you was if you knew what color my panties were. I couldn't help but notice you sneaking the occasional peek up my skirt and I'm pretty sure you got a good enough look to actually know what color my panties are."
He flushed red with embarrassment, clearly caught, before sheepishly admitting, "they're light blue."
Grinning, I softly respond, "You're correct Josh." I conspiratorially added, "Look I know you're uncomfortable so I'll cut right to the chase. You know I really, really want to go to school here. I know you want to see more of what's under my skirt. And I'd love to show you. Really, I would. I'll show you whatever you want. No guilt. No nothing. All I want is for you to put in a good word for me."
He looked positively stricken. You could almost see him weighing the pros and the cons in his head. To give him a little more encouragement, I uncrossed my legs again, more purposefully this time, leaving nothing to chance. I pulled the bottom of my skirt up to make sure he got the view of my panty covered pussy, the light blue cotton fabric making its appearance. I was staring at him. He was staring between my legs. I knew I had him.
"Josh... nobody will ever have to know," I whisper further.
Wordlessly, slowly, he nodded his head almost imperceptible, moving as if in a trance. I pulled my skirt up completely now and slid forward on my chair a little opening my legs for his prying eyes. I ran a hand over my mound, cupping it and feeling my warmth before I drew a fingertip slowly up my panty-covered slit. I was overwhelmed with emotion. My heart was racing knowing I was doing something so risky, so wrong, and also so slutty. Who would do something like this my inner voice reprimanded? But, I couldn't deny the fact it was turning me on like crazy. I started shamelessly rubbing myself through my panties while he stared at me, my wetness starting to seep through the thin fabric.
I could see a bulge forming in his light beige khakis and that only excited me more. I love knowing I can turn a guy on. Our mutual arousal goading me on.
I slipped my hand inside my panties and moaned softly at the touch. I knew that this was just teasing him further, keeping my pussy hidden away while I clearly worked a finger inside myself. My middle finger explored my pussy and I realized just how aroused and soaking wet I had become just from touching myself in this guys office. I brought my pussy juice covered finger to my lips and tasted myself watching his reaction. It was so cute! He opened his mouth as I opened mine, as if he was trying to taste it too. I knew then he forgot all about doing the right thing. I knew I had him.
"You want to see more?" I teased.
"Fuck yeah," he quickly replied. "I wanna see it... your pus.... show me your pussy... please."
My heart soared. Here was this twenty something admission counselor who just asked to see my pussy in his office. He could probably get fired for something like that. But he didn't care and I certainly didn't. In fact, I wanted to show him. I wanted him to see me. This went beyond just getting into college; I wanted to turn him on, to please him.
I stood up, stepping around the small square table that separated our chairs. I slid my thumbs into the sides of my panties and slid them down letting the front of my skirt hide myself for the moment. With my light blue panties down around my ankles I stepped out of them and sat down on the table right in front of him. With only a matter of inches between us I leaned back a bit, spread my legs and lifted my skirt all at the same time excited to show him my big reveal. His groan of approval was all the validation I needed and I opened my legs a little more, shamelessly exposing myself to his probing eyes. I know it sounds silly to say, but I was proud of my pussy. Completely hairless, I shaved myself smooth as often as I could. My small lips were just the right shade of pink. It looked soft and innocent yet hopefully also inviting.
"Touch me," I asked, secretly wishing he had done it without being asked.
He obeyed but was hesitant at first touching my mound and thighs before finally reaching my needy slit. His fingers on me sent volts of electricity through my body and I shuddered when his fingers grazed my clit. I rested my hands behind me, propping myself up and giving into his exploration of my most sensitive parts. He was getting bolder and slipped a finger inside me and we both heard the squishing sound of my wetness as he penetrated me.
I let him play with me like that for a bit but I needed more from him and hope he felt the same with. With a finger still curled up inside of me, I leaned forward and started rubbing his crotch through his pants feeling his hard cock desperate to get out.
"Can I help you with that?" I asked.
I think we both felt like this was yet another line we were crossing in our day of inappropriate behaviors. While he thought about it for a moment longer than I had hoped, I took the opportunity to slide the zipper of his fly down. Apparently that's all the encouragement he needed.
"Please," he responded needily.
I pushed the small coffee table I had been sitting on out of the way and took its place in front of him, kneeling between his legs. I gently tried to worm my hand into his open fly but ultimately had to unbutton his pants to give us both more room. I felt the warmth of his hard cock almost immediately. I slid my hand inside his boxer shorts and wrapped my fingers around him. Pulling him free I got my first look at his delicious looking penis. It was already so hard standing at attention. If I had to guess I'd say he was about 7 inches or so, thick, but not like pornstar thick. The kind of thick that would clearly stretch out my tight little cunt, but cause far more pleasure than pain.
I loved that first look at him like that and paused a moment to enjoy it. I loved how his cock throbbed in my hand. I loved the smell of him, that delicious mix of sweat and man and arousal. Does arousal have a smell or is that just what dick smells like? Either way, I couldn't wait any longer and ran my tongue along the underside of his shaft finally tasting him and loving it.
He moaned a loudly and I continued bathing his cock with my tongue enjoying the effect I was having on him; enjoying the effect he was having on me. Eventually, I took his cock into my mouth and started sucking him off in earnest. I loved sucking guys off. I played little games with myself seeing how far I could take him in my mouth and even down my throat. Seeing how long I could go before needing to come up for air. Seeing how long it took before he started losing control.
It wasn't long before his hands were in my hair directing the action. I moaned in approval and just let him use me.
"Fuck yeah, you like sucking my cock don't you?"
I did, but I clearly couldn't respond but looked up at him as a form of acknowledgement. He used me harder, rougher then. My hand quickly moved its way to my pussy rubbing myself while I sucked him, or rather while he fucked my mouth. I liked pushing a guy past that point of rational thought. Where he no longer cares about the situation or consequences; that he's focused on his own pleasure. I know that's a weird things to say but that's when sex gets so hot an uninhibited. He was clearly at that point with me. It was fascinating to watch his transformation from a bewildered admission counselor nervously peeking up my skirt to a horny man roughly using the mouth of a high school senior for his own pleasure.
"Fucking dirty slut, sucking my dick just to get into college... Mmmm fuck yeah... You like this though don't you.... Fuck... Yeah I can tell. You love a dick in your mouth... You want me to fuck you don't you, you dirty girl?"
He let me come up for air and while I gasped and choked all I could respond is nod.
"Say it! Say you want me to fuck you."
"I want you to fuck me," I replied, regaining my composure.
"What was that?"
Great, now he was just fucking with me. I gave in.
"Please, fuck me! God, I need your cock inside me right now! I'm so fucking wet."
With that he pulled me to my feet and guided me over to his desk. His hard cock bobbed in front of him with every step still glistening with my saliva. His pants and boxers were now around his ankles giving his cock free reign for the assault I knew was coming. I was so excited. I wanted to feel him inside me stretching me out so bad. I lay back on his desk with my butt scooted to the very edge, my skirt hiked up to my stomach, my legs high, open and spread. I even used my hands to hold my pussy lips apart completing my vulgar submissive display of my tight pink hole.
There was no ceremony or preamble. One moment he was standing between my legs and I could feel his cock head poking around at my opening, the next moment he was sliding his entire length inside me. We were both so aroused that he managed to easily slip in but not without an intense wave of stretching pain and pleasure that filled my core.
"Mmmm, fuck," I moaned, "your cock feels so good inside me. You're so big!"
"Oh god," he groaned burying his length inside me, "I forgot how tight high school girls are."
I took it as a compliment and relaxed giving into his cock and letting him take me right there on his desk. My heart raced, my pussy leaked, my brain had trouble making sense of it all. Moments earlier I was worried that my extra curricular activities and transcript made me unlikely to be admitted. Now, I'm begging for his dick. So fucking hot. My head spun with the eroticism of the moment.
I pulled up my top and bra revealing my tits to him for the first time. As much as I loved showing off my cute little pussy, I sometimes was self conscious about my tits. I know how much guys like big-titted girls since they talk about them all the time and mine definitely weren't big. After years of gymnastics and dance classes they were permanently stuck between an "A" and "B" cup with hard pink nipples that were just begging to be played with. But, judging from the look I saw in his eyes, and the fury with which he started fucking me, I'm pretty sure he approved.