How Christi Paid for College Ch. 04bygottschalk03©
It was only the first week of classes when Christi moved into Kappa house. Within a couple of days she had used her summer savings to pay her tuition bill and changed her status to "off campus" to cancel her room and board charges. She was left with just a couple hundred dollars in her bank account but free to keep following her degree.
Spring semester would be a problem; a second huge tuition payment would come due and she didn't have enough saved to cover it. Also, she assumed that living in Kappa wasn't going to be permanent – there would be a rush for new members in a few weeks – and she would have to find a new living situation. Her problems were solved, but only temporarily. She asked for extra hours as a barista and tried to set every penny aside she could, but the anxiety lingered that, come January, it wouldn't be enough. The lottery tickets in convenience stores actually started to look appealing, but she resisted them.
Still, for the time being she could focus on her studies, and Christi was indeed a good student. It was her junior year, most of her requirements were out of the way, and she was free to focus on her major (English), which she loved, and elective courses to take just for the hell of it. One of those was an introduction to Anthropology. She was completely taken with Prof. Hansen. He was an athletic forty-year-old, not too old but not very young, with a rugged face and an easy smile. He had a knack for lightening up dry analysis of pottery styles and agricultural tools with outrageous personal stories from his time doing fieldwork in Mozambique and Sri Lanka. Christi found herself wishing Hansen were an English professor so she could take seven courses from him and went well out of her way to class to verify exactly where his office was.
The opposite was true, sadly, of her statistics professor. This was the only graduation requirement she had left outside of her major and Christi hated math. She had put it off, hoping some sort of physics-for-poets class would be offered, but the university was on a kick of insisting that everybody do real math so she was stuck. Prof. Ludovic was a heavyset Eastern European man, fiftyish, with a droopy mustache, glaring, deep set eyes, and a penchant for yelling his questions at students at the top of his lungs. For the first time in her college career Christi hunched at the back of the room and hoped she would not get noticed.
It took a week for it to occur to Christi that she was living in an entire house full of math and science geeks. Surely statistics was baby food to her new housemates. Christi kicked herself as an idiot when she realized it had taken her so long to think of asking for help. Unfortunately, although she knew all the guys had voted to let her in, the instinct to be discreet had meant she had mostly kept to her back stairwell and didn't spend much time in the common room interacting with them. She could barely remember most of their names. It was stupid – there was no reason outsiders couldn't visit or hang out in Kappa house, and a couple of them even had girlfriends who were over pretty regularly. But she had been so stressed she had avoided socializing, lest anyone figure it out. But she figured she could at least try, maybe find Anders and start with him.
It was about three o'clock the Friday of the second week of classes when she ventured into the common room looking for Anders. He wasn't there, nor had she found him in his room. Instead there were three guys, watching TV; an Indian (from Asia Indian) named Gaurav and two Asian boys – Korean, if she remembered right – named Albert and Chris. She restrained the small-town white-girl impulse to think of them as "foreigners" – Albert and Chris were both from Seattle, if she remembered right, and Gaurav had grown up in Pennsylvania or Maryland or somewhere like that.
They startled a bit when she burst in, not accustomed to seeing her. "Hey guys," she asked, "has anyone seen Anders? I can't find him."
They three of them looked at her, then at each other and shrugged. "Not since this morning,"
Albert said. "I think he was heading off campus. Meeting with clients or something."
"Clients?" Christi said, confused.
"Some insurance company," Chris explained, "he was writing some software for them. Virtual crystal interfaces, I think. Kind of dull but it pays the bills."
"I thought he had classes on Fridays."
Albert snorted. "Probably. He'll just do it all in lab over the weekend. Not like he actually has to show up."
"I hope they don't try to break the contract on him this time," Gaurav added. "The last one he did, they pulled a bullshit story about having to bring in a consultant to compatibilize his code. Only paid him ten grand for that one.
Christi's jaw hit the floor. "Ten GRAND? You mean, like, ten thousand DOLLARS?"
Gaurav paused and looked at her. "Yes. What?"
Christi tried to recover. Her nine-dollars-an-hour at the Caffeine Bucket suddenly seemed very paltry. "Nothing! Nothing. I just... didn't know Anders had that kind of money."
Gaurav turned back to the TV. "Psshhh. Maybe he'll finally be able to buy a decent computer." Christi thought of her $350 laptop and felt very embarrassed. "Mike Delisle, now, that guy knows how to work a business deal."
"Yeah, what was his last one?" Albert asked.
"He wouldn't say, but I'll bet he cracked six figures on it," Chris said. "I don't know why he's bothering to finish his degree, he should just go develop that patent full-time."
Christi's vision swam as she listened to this casual conversation. She wasn't some trust-fund preppie snob, nor some cheerleading squad girl who thought college was a chance to preserve some stupid high school "in group" clique. But she realized she had seen the Kappa guys as a bunch of clueless nerds, smart maybe, but really mostly to be pitied by the rest of the campus. She knew mostly others saw them that way too. In fact, it dawned on her, they used their laboratories and computers to cook up new technologies and programs that turned into solid cash for them, far beyond what most students had. The campus was a cocoon from which the butterflies were about to emerge as masters of the world economy, the Steve Jobs' and Bill Gates' of the world. And here she was borrowing a room from them. And using a metaphor her creative writing teacher would trash as a trite cliché.
"Hey Gaurav," Albert said, "How is your little business deal coming?"
Gaurav groaned. "Oh, man. The framework is set to go but they want me to show it to the board day after tomorrow. It's going to crash and burn, I know it. I'm no good at presentations. I'm going to look like an idiot and they'll drop me."
"Yeah, I hate when that happens," Chris said. "They should really just let tech people talk to tech people. Keeps it so much simpler and no one thinks about how you crack jokes or how you dress."
The conversation quieted down. Christi quietly settled in to join the boys watching TV, and after some while Albert and Chris excused themselves to go study, leaving her alone with Gaurav.
"So you're not looking forward to this presentation, huh?" she asked during a commercial.
"Oh god, no. I hate getting up in front of people," he said.
"How come? I'm sure you know your stuff."
"Oh, I KNOW my stuff. Sure as hell I know my stuff. It's... the way they look at you. Like you're some snail that crawled out of its shell. Like if your pants are too short or you're wearing the wrong shoes you must be some moron. I hate that part."
"Whoa – you mean you're nervous about presenting because of, like, clothes and stuff?" Christi asked.
"Clothes. Hair. I don't know what the hell they're looking at. I don't get any of that shit." The whole topic had clearly put Gaurav in a foul mood.
Christi suddenly laughed. "But Gaurav, that's so easy!"
"Maybe for you. You're a girl. I don't get that shit."
She ignored the sexism and pushed him. "No that's what I mean. I DO get that shit! There's nothing wrong with how you look, you just need to dress right for the meeting. I can help you put a look together, that's nothing." It was true. Though not some fashionista, Christi had spent some time working costumes for the drama department and had developed a pretty keen eye for finding the right clothes for the right person. Gaurav was actually relatively tall and slim with a nice set of shoulders and a strong jaw. He WOULD be easy to dress nicely, and would look damn good when he was.
Gaurav paused and eyed her skeptically. "You'd put a look together for me? How?"
"Let's go to the mall. I'll take you shopping. You have some money?" Christi tried very hard not to be selfish in asking this question, but realized she was drooling a little in anticipation of the answer.
"Money? I guess, sure. How much will it take? How bad am I?"
She laughed. "Not bad at all. How much is it worth you to invest in getting this deal? A hundred, two hundred, what?"
He thought. "If it gets me the deal... I could spend up to a thousand on it, I guess."
"Shut UP!" Christi gushed. "A thousand! When do you want to go?"
"I don't know. I'm not busy right now..."
"Well let's go then!"
They took Christi's car, a beaten-up old Honda, since Gaurav didn't have a car of his own. She drove him to an upscale designer outlet mall that she had never dared shop at herself.
They went from shop to shop, looking things over and holding them up to Gaurav's frame. Christi built from the shoes up and made him work up two distinct outfits. The centerpiece of it all was a fine woolen double-breasted suit for business meetings, in dark pinstripe grey with a red shirt and tie, and black shoes. He looked smart, sophisticated, and worldly in it. The other outfit was for more casual settings and socializing; narrow black designer jeans, boots, a patterned button down shirt. He came out of changing room after changing room in variation after variation until Christi nodded her approval. Damn, but he DID look good.
Then hair. A salon was part of the mall and luckily, they were taking walk-ins. Christi ushered Gaurav, whose hair had previously always been cut by his mother, into the hands of the stylists.
"Wait, wait, wait," he protested. What are YOU going to do?"
"Me? I don't know – sit out here and read a magazine, I guess."
"No way, that's no fair. Do you want a haircut too?"
Christi laughed. "A girl could ALWAYS use a new haircut. Don't worry about me."
"No, I insist," he said. "Do you guys have someone free who could work on my friend here? All right – on me. Do whatever she wants."
Christi tied to object but it was no good, Gaurav had made up his mind, and it HAD been a long time since she had had a proper styling. The shampooing and rinsing of her scalp felt SOOO good. They didn't take much length off, but when they were done her hair had a lovely wave in it and a perky bounce and every strand seemed to glisten like honey. Gaurav seemed transformed, from a random mop to a neatly contoured style that looked young and suave all at once.
"Wow," he said. "Christi, you look great."
"Why thank you," she gushed. "So do you."
"Hmmm..." he said, "now the rest of it."
"The rest of what?"
"Well, you just spent two and a half hours of your time making me look and feel good," he said. "What did you see that YOU really wanted?"
"I mean it. I want to get you something. To say thank you. I feel better than I have my whole life. I'm ready to take on the world. Let me get you something too."
"I... wow. I hadn't really thought about it."
"Well, think about it now."
They worked back through the designer stores until Christi found herself lingering over one with gorgeous silk dresses in oriental patterns. It was one of the smaller shops and seemed to only have one woman on staff, who was terribly flustered trying to sort out a pile of inventory and deal with a stream of customers. Left largely to herself, Christi browsed to her heart's content and wound up taking eight or nine dresses back into the changing rooms. Gaurav waited outside the door.
After a few minutes, she opened the door and peeked out at him. "Pssst... Gaurav!" she whispered urgently. "Can you help me out here?"
He was surprised. "What?"
"Come in here. I can't get this on by myself."
He looked around nervously but the sole saleswoman was swamped at the front counter. He swallowed hard and ducked inside the changing room. Christi was halfway into a figure-hugging thigh-length red silk dress ; the zipper was in the back and she couldn't reach it.
"I can't get this zipped," she explained. "Can you pull it up?"
Gaurav swallowed and nodded and reached to help her. He froze at the sight or her equally red silk bra strap, then mastered himself enough to pull the zipper up to the top. She sighed and thanked him and turned around.
"So? What do you think?"
Gaurav had a hard time talking. The dress hugged every one of Christi's luscious curves in the best way possible. She had added black stiletto heels and her legs seemed to climb for miles before disappearing into the silk at the thigh. A cutout over her chest revealed her generous cleavage, but the collar closed over it at the throat. In the small changing room, this woman was close to him... so close....
"It's amazing..." he groaned.
"Really? You like it? Let me try another one. Unzip, please!"
Christi turned her back to him and Gaurav felt the curve of her ass brush against his crotch. He froze, wondering if she had felt the bulge behind his fly. He obediently pulled the zipper down, all the way down the long lumbar curve of her spine. Christi whipped herself out of the dress in no time and stood in front of him in her bra and panties, scarlet and divine. Gaurav started to sweat.
Christi reached for a blue dress in a similar cut to the red one and began to step into it when she glanced up. "I'm not sure which color is better but I – hey, are you OK?" she asked.
"Maybe you should just get them all," he said in a whisper.
"Get them all?" she asked. "That's a lot of money, Gaurav, I think I should try them on and pick the best one."
"The money's ok. Just get them all."
"Oh," Christi said, looking at him carefully. "Oh... I see. You're getting uncomfortable, aren't you?" He nodded. "And you're trying to be a gentleman?"
Christi liked this Indian guy. She hated that she was making him uncomfortable. If she had any sense she would put her clothes back on and let him go. But he was uncomfortable because she had power over him. And she couldn't help enjoying that feeling. She did not put her clothes back on, but instead stood in front of him, in the close confines of the changing room, in scarlet bra and panties and high heeled shoes. And nothing else but acres and acres of creamy skin.
"Gaurav," she said softly, stepping even closer to him, "there's something you should know. I really like that you're a sweet gentleman. I do. But you don't have to be a gentleman with me. When guys are nice to me, they make me very grateful. Anders was super nice to me when he got you guys to let me come to Kappa house. So you know what I did for him?"
Gaurav shook his head.
"I stroked my pussy for him till I squirted. Then I let him stroke his cock and cum all over me." Christi smiled wickedly watching Gaurav's face. "It was great. I loved it! See, when I get grateful, I get horny, and I turn into this slutty whore. So if you're really going to buy me all these gorgeous dresses... I can be very grateful to you, too. Do you want me to?"
Gaurav could not believe this was happening. His back was pressed up to the wall of the tiny changing room. Her body was close against him. He could feel his cock throbbing in his new designer jeans and her soft breasts pressing insistently against his new stylish shirt. "Oh my god.... I would like that a lot..."
"I knew you would," she purred with a sinful smile. Their faces were close, so close together. She could tell he wanted to kiss her but she didn't let him. Instead she kept close, her eyes smiling, locked on his, watching his reaction to her every move and shift in position. Her tits pressed into his chest. Her breath sighed across his brown lips. Her hair brushed against his eyelids and nose. She slid her hands down his sides to his belt and slowly twined her fingers into it, slipping toward the front. They came to the buckle and she pulled it open, giggling quietly into his mouth. One hand slid back up his chest while the other ran down over the front of his new jeans. They were a close fit and she could feel his package squeezed too tight behind the denim. Gaurav quivered and moaned as she rubbed her hand against his crotch, then slid a finger down the seam under and between his legs.
"Ohhh...." She teased him, "does that feel nice, baby?"
"Fuck yes..." he hissed.
"I think I found a tiger that needs to get out of its cage..." Christi purred.
She slid in even closer to him, her lips brushing his neck. Gaurav groaned as he felt the damp heat of her breath on his skin, then her teeth nibbling his earlobe and a slick run of her tongue over her ear. Her breasts pressed gently into his chest. He brought his hands up and cupped them through the silk, feeling the curve and heft of them in his palms.
Christi's hands went to work, tearing his belt buckle open and unzipping his fly. She groped down through the waistband of his boxers until her fingers found his engorged member, tangled in the folds of his underwear. A quick pull and it slipped free and pulled up straight. She gripped his cock in her fingers and started to stroke, a steady, even pulse, feeling him stiffen and harden at each touch. He felt like he would be... very satisfactory. Christi felt a rush of saliva over her tongue.
Gaurav pushed her bra cups up, pressing her cleavage together, and smothered his face in the creamy expanse of her tits. Christi gasped as he greedily kissed and sucked at her smooth skin, loving the feeling of him, loving his hunger. With a little shrug she managed to let the bra straps off her shoulders and her boobs lifted free of the cups, pink nipples poking out to his lapping tongue. He squeezed her tits in his hands and pinched her hardening nipples as her hand continued to caress the thick shaft between his legs.
"Mmmm fuck," she sighed, "That feels sooo good, Gaurav..."
She felt a glow of heat rising inside her, pulsing deep in her pussy and radiating outward and up through her body, rays of fire reaching her tits for him to drink in through his greedy mouth. Her vision blurred over in a sudden headrush, and the lust started to take over complete. Christi moaned low in her throat. "Oh god.... Oh fuck....."
She couldn't help herself. The thick meat in her hand called to her. Her knees buckled and she crumpled to the floor, pulling her nipple loose from Gaurav's mouth. She could feel his hot breath on her face as she slid down, until she was kneeling in front of him, his stiff brown cock against her face. Eyes closed, she smiled in a trance of lust and rubbed it over her eyelids and nose and forehead. Her mouth parted to sigh on it with damp breath. A little saliva leaked out to the underside of his shaft and made it glisten.
She opened wide and gasped for him. Gaurav thrust with his pelvis and the heavy dick pushed against Christi's waiting lips. She kissed it, lapped it, then opened wide again and welcomed him inside. He tasted of salt and musk. The head pushed against her palate and she slid her tongue along the veins of the shaft, squeezing it there and lapping around it. Spit flooded her mouth and she let it flow over his cock, bathing it, letting it drip over her lips and down onto her tits.
He pushed more, groaning, and she took his member deeper. He was far in now. She felt the head squeezing toward her gullet and knew what to do. Carefully, she relaxed her throat and calmed the instinct to gag. The thick meat filled her whole mouth now. He fucked her face all the way in, all the way to the back of her mouth. The smooth head found the opening of her throat and wormed inside. Christi held him there, let him choke her slut throat with cock, her lips closed over him all the way to the root of his rich heavy dick.