Crisis and Opportunity

Niko turned to Diane. "You think it's funny, winding me up in front of him like that?"

"Yes," she answered honestly. He put his hand on her shoulder and dug his fingers in.

"I'll show you something funny—"

Footsteps, door opening. Niko's hand shot up from Diane's shoulder to adjust his hair. He wondered if just outright launching a professor out of a fourth-floor window was explicitly forbidden anywhere in the school rules.

Perhaps best not to try with one that can turn your spleen inside out with his mind, though.

"I left my pipe here, haven't I? Yes," Ter Dekke cruised towards his desk to retrieve the indispensable item. "Remember," he picked up the pipe and jabbed the air with the mouthpiece accusingly, "don't just evaporate the water out of the floor. Weave it out. Evaporating will damage the wood. And worse yet, it would be a shortcut. Students should never take shortcuts if they want to learn the basics. Baah!" He headed back to the door. "You can't ever escape the basics. If you try, they'll catch up with you sooner than you think."

The second the door closed again, Diane rushed to the desk, picked up the key, got to the door, and turned the lock. Then she turned around, and was startled to discover Niko standing right behind her.

"Is he, like, waiting just outside to burst in again?" he whispered. Diane leaned against the door. There were distant, receding footsteps on the stone staircase below.

"We're good now."

"Okay." He started lifting up his hand and then hesitated, apparently unsure how to proceed. She thought that maybe she ought to say something, and parted her lips looking for the words. But that alone was made his instincts kick in - he pounced, lifted her up, pinned her to the door, and kissed her with all the wild, pent-up energy that was buzzing inside him. She gasped into his mouth, welcomed his tongue, and allowed herself to be swept along by his strength, his intensity; then she sank her fingers in his hair, pulled at it, and kissed back, hard; he stood his ground and pressed into her, prompting a hollow wooden bang from the door. The force they applied to each other's lips was frankly way too much for this kissing to be any efficient at all. He broke off and went down her neck, her fingers still entangled in his hair. She sighed quietly.

"I missed you too, Niko," she said.

He leaned back and let her go; she dropped to the floor gracefully. "This was the longest fucking class ever," he said. He reached for her jacket and unbuttoned it, and she shrugged it off to the floor. He nudged her to turn around, took her around the waist, and pirouetted them both so that he was now the one against the door. He pulled her shirt out of her skirt, and with a definite sense of purpose started unbuttoning it as well.

Now that she directly faced the classroom's large windows, and now that she was being freed of her clothes, she noted that she could see the upper parts of the old medieval wing on the opposite side of the courtyard; if someone were to, hypothetically, look out of one of its windows, they could, hypothetically, witness some stark naked disregard for the school rules. Not to mention that a certain raven could always fly by.

She squinted and focused her mind on the thick, gold-and-red cords keeping the window drapes in place. One by one, they started twisting on their own, undoing their knots, and allowing the heavy fabric to unfurl, with a soft flutter, over the panes, slowly reducing the light in the room to a subdued red glow. This was no easy task at all, as she kept getting distracted - by Niko's quick breath against her neck, by her shirt becoming undone and then slid off her shoulders, by the lock of her bra being fiddled with and opened, her breasts being bared and grabbed at and—

"Ah, shit!"

There was a ripping sound. Niko looked up and saw the left drape by the last window fall limply from its railing to the side of the window.

"Whoops," Diane said.

"Diane, we're supposed to make this room less messy."

"It is difficult," she said with emphasis, "to work precise magic while you're being fondled."

He had to concede the fact that his hands were full of her breasts. He squeezed gently, felt the flesh yield softly, saw the dimples deepen under his fingers.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Does this break your concentration?"

She gave him a weary look. "Let's just get on that mattress, shall we?"

She picked up her stuff and he followed her, watching her naked back, upright, shadows of the shoulder blades swaying, the groove of her spine twisting in the subdued light.

As they passed the tables he overtook her, leapt over the water, and produced out of his bag a large bathing towel which he spread over the mattress. She smiled, tossed her stuff on the mattress and herself on the towel. From there she watched with keen interest as he took off his shirt, exposing to her that trim upper body. She propped herself up on her elbows and gave him an inviting look. He joined her, and some apparent disagreement ensued on who would get to bury their face in whose chest first; resulting in disorderly grasping, haphazard grinding, and impatient shedding of leftover clothes.

She got him down to his underwear eventually, and when she pulled it down too, his cock rose steadily, heavily, to meet her. She noted that he'd cropped his hair short. This, the towel, the pen trick - he was really trying, really giving this whole affair some thought and effort. Her eagerness now stoked all the way up, she quickly got herself naked and lay on her back. She looked into his eyes, nodded, and smiled at him.

That smile. Small, but so forthright. That understanding in her eyes, understanding how much he wanted her, and a full endorsement of that want, a welcoming of it, an appreciation of it. He clambered over her, on his knees and elbows. He leaned closer - what little air remained between them felt hot. His eyes were on hers. He still couldn't believe it. That he of all people was having a secret sex adventure, right here at Vallnord. That she of all people was having a secret sex adventure, right here at Vallnord. That the two of them were having it together. Each of these three facts felt very deeply absurd.

He felt her tense up in anticipation as his cock found its way between her legs. Its tip touched her flesh, and he felt her heat and her wetness. He leaned closer still, and rested his lower lip on hers - and finally, after all this waiting, he entered her. She gasped, right into his teeth.

One decisive thrust forward and she was filled up with him. She threw her arms around him, squeezed him tight, and kissed him full on. With closed eyes she swelled with this sensation of intense closeness, his presence in and around her, no boundaries and no restrictions.

He sighed in delight, and slowly moved his hips. The girl filled up all of his sensation, slipping tight against his most sensitive nerves. His stomach felt as if he was falling down. He thrust forward. His whole body lit up enthusiastically... oh. Oh, crap.

He paused, took a deep breath, thrust again, and again was hit with a wave of almost unbearable pleasure. Oh no. No, no, no.

"Niko?" He had stopped moving, and looked rather anxious.

"Um." He licked his lips. He fixed his gaze on the curve of her neck. "I, uh, I think that all this build-up was just too much." He smiled sheepishly.

There's a piece of folk advice for this kind of situation that you're supposed to, like, start doing maths in your head or something. But he knew that right now, even all of Ter Dekke's triangles couldn't stand between him and the inevitable. He was right on the brink of orgasm, and it was completely beyond his mind's control.

"Oh. ...okay." She blinked and lay still. For once, she was not entirely sure what to say. Very carefully, he pulled out of her, and knelt up. He brushed his hair away from his face.

"Can we, er... I guess in this case I'll take care of you with my hands or my mouth first... then I'll finish myself, right?"

"Yeah, alright." That would work. It was a shame that he'd only get a few moments of fun for all that work with the pen, but what could you do. At least he didn't seem to be feeling too bad about this.

"Right. Just give me a moment." He turned sideways against her, took a deep breath, and pushed his fingers against his jaw. Fuck's sake. You can never trust your stupid damn body. He told himself to calm down. This, well, happens. It's just, the first time they had sex it all went so well, and in fact he felt pretty proud of how well that went, and he kind of liked this idea of himself doing so well, especially with Diane, and, and, and, and. And.

She caught the way he held his breath and how his eyebrow twitched. Damnit. Yep, he was totally feeling bad about this. She tilted herself up, and glanced at the clock on the other side of the room. Half past two. Alriiiight.

Suddenly, he felt her grab him from behind - one hand on his stomach, one of his chest, her head popping up right by his and resting on his shoulder.

"So, Niko. I have a question." Her tone was playful, and there was something unusual about this hug - as far as hugs given by friends with benefits go, this one felt way more friendly than beneficial. "We have some half an hour left to ourselves, then we really need to get started with the clean-up..." That seemed about right. "You think I can make you come twice in that time?"

What now? "Twice...?"

"Twice. I think I can."

"I don't think... there's refraaah..." her fingers were suddenly on his cock, moving up in a slow, delicate, appreciative stroke. Back to the basics, she thought. We're here to have fun. Let's turn this into fun.

"You don't think I can? Well, I will bet you that I will make you come twice before that clock strikes three. The loser will have to do all the clean-up on his own, double-time."

"His own?"

She looked at him with half-closed eyes, a picture of perfect confidence. "I just think that you like me this much. So, is it a bet?"

He twitched in her fingers. She was utterly irresistible.

"Alright..." he managed, with an uncertain smile.

"Good. It's agreed." She gave him a squeeze, the lightest, keenest, most unbearably teasing little squeeze. "So you don't need to hold back now. Show me how bad you want me."

Whatever misgivings he might have had about this scheme melted away. In her arms he twisted around to face her, and she thought he was going in for a kiss, but instead with threadbare gentleness he pushed her down on her back. She caught a determined, unsmiling glimmer under his eyelashes. His body and his mind were set absolutely on that one single burning need - on her. A wave of excitement hit her as she allowed his legs to part hers. She really wanted to be filled with his heat.

He thrust himself into her, and her whole body slid up the mattress, the towel whirling up in her wake. She clenched her teeth and with her arms and legs she entwined herself around him. Again he thrust, and a moan escaped him - again he felt himself welcomed in her, surrounded warmly by this slick sensation of sheer bliss - and again his nerves rose up, tingling as if in static electricity - he grabbed her by the hair and buried his face in her neck and into her skin he called out her name, and thrust rapidly, and she glided, she glissaded, she danced on his nerves, and he swelled with delirious joy - and he embraced it, lost himself in it, and at its peak he felt his cock sharply bulge deep inside her - and finally he brimmed over, and with a short, strong squirt, he poured himself into her.

He felt heavier all of sudden, and his body rested more heavily on hers. She heard his whispered sigh. She ruffled his hair and grinned into the ceiling, and felt him come, in diminishing waves, and finally quiet down, and lie still.

She twirled his hair between her fingers, and kissed his head.

"You're so cute when you lose control," she said.

He muttered something incomprehensible even to himself, and rolled off her. His mind clouded in an uncertain haze, he watched her kneel up. Between her legs, she was palely glazed with his cum. He smiled an indistinct smile. She returned an airy one.

"Gather up your strength, you're going again very soon."

He chuckled, threw the towel around his shoulders, and propped himself with his back against the wall. His head was clearing up. He was feeling as asexual as an ascetic subsisting on yak milk on a mountaintop somewhere.

"Well, we'll see. But I do like your enthusiasm."

From her bag she got out a tissue. With her mind she called one of the half-full water bowls that were scattered around. She soaked up the tissue, and wiped herself clean.

"I will win our bet, Niko. I will win, because I know a little secret."

"Secret? What now?"

"I will tell you. When you're ready." Then, without warning, she reached and wiped his hypersensitive cock too. He winced.

"Ack! Cold!"

"Of course it's cold. You know very well that cum with hot water will stick to you worse than most curses."

"Look, just come over here. I've got to keep you occupied before you get any more practical ideas."

She swung over to him. "And how do you propose to keep me occupied?"

"With handiwork." He grabbed her and carefully flipped her over, pressing her back against his chest. She smiled, reached back, and threw her arms around his neck. His hands travelled down her stomach and rested, teasing, on her hips. She pulled herself up, closer to him, cheek to cheek. There was something strangely intimate about this position. They shared almost the same point of view over her naked body, his arms running unchecked alongside it in place of her own; and she was stretched out on top of him, very exposed. She carefully exhaled, and waited.

He wriggled one hand underneath her, and from below he slowly fingered her outer lips. Right by him, her breathing broke and her mouth curled up. The muscles by her eye, the smiling ones, twitched a little, tickling his own. The muscles of her back tensed against his skin. He slipped a finger inside her. Even in his current state, there was something very pleasant about this - it felt cosy, snug. He kissed her on the cheek, and with his other hand he moved to pet her clit.

She endorsed his actions with a little squeal. He could see her eyes moving rapidly under closed lids, her teeth show beneath her parted lips. With sober clarity, he read her body like an open book - the way she inclined to his touch, the way her breathing turned to smooth, prolonged moaning. Her hips bucked. All ten of his fingers were up to no good, pressing, caressing, teasing, gliding and scurrying around, inviting themselves into her, finding all of her weakest points. She unconsciously called out his name. There was an awareness in her somewhere that he was now driven by curiosity, not arousal - curiosity about her body, about her pleasure. She bit her lip. He could satisfy his curiosity all he wanted. He adjusted himself to alter his grip, and his gaze fell briefly on her discarded clothes and her open bag. Spilling out of the bag were a book, a bundle of notes, and that hefty steel pen.

Inspiration is a strange animal. Sometimes it will just explode in your mind with a fully-formed idea, connecting some dots you never even considered connectible. And often these ideas aren't just "good." "Good" wouldn't do justice to their nature. They are simply Right.

His fingers stopped moving. She groaned in protest and opened one eye, and saw her pen float through the air towards them. She gave him a questioning look, but all of his attention was on the pen.

He'd done it with the bowl just a short while ago. If he could do it with a bowl, he could do it with a pen. After all, he was a bit of an expert on pen-related telekinesis now. Alright, how did it go? You just kind of play the thing against itself, and create two opposing but complementary forces in its core, and—

There was a buzz, and the pen blurred. Niko squinted. Yep, he could keep it vibrating consistently, with little mental effort. He gave it a little swirl, and it obeyed smoothly. He grinned, and turned to Diane.

"Now, let's see you squirm for real," he whispered.

She lay completely still and stared transfixed as the pen sailed between her knees and pointed its end purposely towards her clit. He felt her fingers dig a little into the back of his neck. She could tell a Right Idea when she saw one. Wordlessly, he brought the pen close, very close to her, and she could clearly feel the flutter of air around it. She licked her lips. He adjusted the angle a bit, let her wait for it a bit, and then, with no warning, he touched down.

"Augh! Fuck!" There was a burst of sensation - the cold steel, the furious reverberation against her nerves - and instinctively she shirked away. He glanced at her. She arched back her neck, pinned her upper lip down with her lower teeth, cautiously offered herself up again.

This time she knew what to expect, but this intense, sharp pleasure was unlike anything she was used to, almost overwhelming. The urge to writhe away fought with the urge to take this pleasure in, mount it, ride it - and it's a wonder that these two opposing forces in her core didn't make her vibrate herself. He helped her settle the question by holding her securely in place - and after a few seconds she tamed the sensation, and gave herself up to it - and he thought that the keen, rapid moans now escaping her were really quite beautiful. His now-free hand moved over to her shaking breasts, and delicately pinched her nipple.

At this point it became apparent that the pen's short-sighted manufacturers had not foreseen this particular application when designing their product, for, disturbed by the vibration, it started spluttering ink out of its nib.

"Oh shit," said Niko, and stopped the motion - whereupon he felt nails sink into his neck, threatening imminent murder.

"Don't, don't, don't, don't fucking stop." With her mind she urgently drew the ink out - it floated briefly above the pen in a careless, shiny blob, and then leapt into the water bowl, splattering them both with black droplets on the way. Niko smiled, squeezed her tight, and resumed his work.

"You know what I'm going to do for my end-year project in this class?" he asked. A moan rising up with a questioning pitch was all the answer she could give. "I'm going to do you. I'm going to drop you naked on Ter Dekke's desk, and I'll say, 'Professor, for my project I am going to make this girl cum without even touching her.' I think I'm going to get a really good grade." There was some laughter in her voice, but she was really way too close to orgasm to really care about anything else. So he abandoned his search for the "cum laude" pun he was pretty sure was there, and settled back to enjoy the show she was about to give.

Under this onslaught of touch, from the pen, from his fingers, from his enveloping body, she caved in completely. The pleasure rose, kept filling her up, she felt like she needed to moan it out to make space for its new waves that just kept coming - but it was no use, it reached its critical mass, too vast to bear - and her body spiralled out of control, and the waves crashed down, and so did her voice - and she was rocked, arched, and twisted by this mass of intense pulsing heat, and then, finally, released.

The pen dropped on the mattress. Niko took his fingers out of her. Listless, with a sigh she let go of him and slid down, to his abdomen, her hair trailing behind her freely across his chest. There she waited for her mind to reassemble herself.

Some moments later, she upturned her head and gave him a serious, upside-down look.

"Aren't you a little too clever for your own good?" she asked.