Milla at College - Week 02

She led him to the stool at the far end of the bar, against the wall. "You should be able to observe everything from here without too much difficulty."

"Great," he said.

There were still only a couple of people at the bar, so she called Grady over. "Hey, jackass," she said to the bartender, "this is my psych class partner, Lee."

"Good to meet you, man," Grady said, extending his hand to Lee over the bar.

"I'll get his tab," she said, "but no alcohol -- we have work to do after my shift."

Lee held up his hands and said, "I'm not old enough anyway."

Grady smirked his smart assiest smile. "No worries, Milla," he said. "I'll take good care of him. Maybe even forget to card him once or twice..."

The bar got busy early, and she forgot that Lee was there for long stretches, but she would catch sight of him every now and then, and feel a flutter of expectation in her stomach.

Grady, too, seemed affected by Lee's presence. He made a point of getting close to Milla whenever he could and touching her on the shoulder or back. She couldn't be sure, of course, of whether he was being that way on account of Lee or on account of having had sex with her the previous week. Either way, she found herself enjoying the attention.

At one point, she walked up to the waitress station at the bar, hoping to pick up a drink order, but not seeing Grady at his usual post. She had just enough time to wonder whether she should go behind the bar to pour her own beers when he approached her from behind, putting his hand on her lower back.

"Sorry about that, love," he said bending over and speaking softly straight into her ear. "Had to make a pit stop. What do you need?"

She ordered five pints of three different types of beer, and as she listed them out for him, his hand slid a bit lower. "And why is your hand on my ass?" Milla asked in mock outrage.

Grady looked down at his hand and her ass. "The better question is: 'Why is your ass on my hand?'" He straightened himself out to his full height and then slapped her butt -- more loud than hard.

She jumped a few inches in the air as he ducked behind the bar.

"Give me half a moment," he said, placing glasses under multiple spigots and beginning to pour the beers.

Milla glanced at the closest one of her tables and saw the four guys there looking at her with smiles on their faces, making furtive comments.

About half an hour later, when she brought them their check, the cutest of the four guys gestured her over. He leaned in close, placing his hand on her bare shoulder. "We're going to a party later, over in the law school dorms," he said. "Would you be interested in joining us after you're done here?"

Milla looked into his hazel colored eyes and wondered if they were hiding dreams of roofies. "Sounds great but I can't," she said truthfully enough. "I have plans."

"That's too bad," he said. "Maybe next time."

Meanwhile, the ginger studying the bill pointed with his left hand to one item and asked, "What's this charge for?" His right hand came to rest on her upper ass, in much the same place that Grady's had been.

"Those are the second Jäger shots you had," she said, very aware of the two hands on her body. "We comped you for two of them."

"Oh, I see," the ginger said. "All right, give us a minute to figure this out."

The ginger and the cute guy wound up splitting the tab down the middle, but when Milla examined the credit card receipts after they left, she saw that they had left her a combined 80% tip. "Fuck," she muttered.

Grady had been picking up an order of Buffalo wings in the kitchen. "What's wrong?" he asked walking up next to her.

"Those guys," she said absently as he placed the wings in front of a nearby customer. She looked around and saw that she and Grady were in direct line of sight from a table of two guys not far from where the big tippers had been. "Do me a favor," she said quietly to Grady. "Spank me again."

The bartender's eyes widened. He straightened himself up and grinned. "Lucky me," he said in the direction of the nearby customers at the bar. "I guess it's spank your waitress day!" Then he smacked Milla's ass harder and louder than he had the first time.

She checked to make sure that the two-top had seen him -- they had -- and then one of the bar customers reached over and slapped her butt too. That caught her by surprise, but she managed to choke down the outrage that entered and then ebbed from her mind.

The two men who witnessed the spanks both touched her shoulder or lower back on her subsequent trips to the table. And when they settled up, they left her another exorbitant tip.

The bar tables started to empty out soon after, and Grady called her over. "Want me to slap your ass again?" he asked as he dried a cocktail shaker.

"No thanks," she said, although part of her liked the idea.

"I think you can probably vamoose," he said. "It seems to be dying out."

Milla glanced at far end of the bar but didn't see Lee. "He left an hour ago," Grady told her. "Said he texted you."

When she'd finished cleaning up her station, Milla checked her phone and saw a message. "Interesting nite," it read. "Come to my place when you're done." He had included an address that ws only a couple of blocks away. She smiled and checked her reflection in the break room mirror.

* *

Like a lot of athletes, Lee lived in the Blackwell dorms, which were organized as suites with three or four bedrooms around a kitchen and living room. When she rang the bell, Lee answered the door wearing shorts, Nike slides and a loose fitting tank top that swayed enough to occasionally reveal his nipples. If he had been a girl, it would have been scandalous attire, but for a dude, it was just bro casual.

"Well that was something," Lee said as they settled onto the couch.

"What do you mean?" Milla asked.

"I think that bartender likes you," Lee said without any humor.

"Oh, he's a big flirt," she said. Lee looked at her skeptically. "And he's got a serious girlfriend," she added.

Lee took that in and seemed to relax. "Well, he kept touching you," he said. "And the customers did too."

She looked at him quizzically. "Are you jealous or something?"

Lee straightened himself up and answered quickly, "No! I was just thinking that it must be kind of weird for you."

Milla thought the big lug was being impossibly cute. "I don't mind it too much," she said. "You know what's interesting? A couple of the times that Grady got most handsy with me, the customers who saw it got handsy themselves." She said after a moment, "And they tipped really well."

"Maybe that should be our project," Lee said chuckling.

"What do you mean?"

"You know, 'Is groping contagious?'" he said in a put-on stage voice. "'And does it lead to other libertine behavior, like overtipping?'"

"That's a great idea," Milla said, and she noticed that the smile on Lee's face was fading.

He said, "I was just joking."

"Okay," she said, "but I'm not."

Lee furrowed his brow as if concentrating. "There is no chance Andrade approves that," he said, referring to their female psych professor.

"We'd have to write up the prospectus very carefully," Milla said after a moment.

"How would we do it, though?" he asked. "How would we get people to feel you up?"

"Not sure," she said. "Grady would definitely help."

"I'm sure of that," Lee quipped a little surlily.

"We can figure it out," she said brightly and scooted herself next to Lee, putting her hand on his bulging shoulder muscle. "And think of how much fun we could have: I would work a shift, getting groped by dozens of men." She ran her hand down his steely chest, over his nipple and toward his abs. "You would be sitting there, observing, collecting data, and protecting me in case anyone got out of hand."

Lee put his massive arm over her shoulder and pulled her body still closer. "Yes, I would," he said.

"When the shift was over," she whispered into his ear, "we would both be so hot and horny that we would come here and rip each other's clothes off." Her hand had sunk beneath the waistband of his shorts and into the fly of his boxers, settling on his semi-erect penis. "And then we would fuck like animals all night long," she finished as she stroked it.

"That sounds awful," he said.

"What?" she said in outrage, almost buying it before he smiled and kissed her with a half-open mouth.

Lee had soft lips and strong hands that immediately started rubbing her breasts and nipples through the fabric of her shirt. She moaned into his mouth and felt his dick harden. It wasn't very long, but it had good girth to it.

He laid down on the couch, and pulled her on top of him. She arranged herself so that the bulge of his crotch was pressing into hers and ground her hips. Her vaginal lips would trail onto the gigantic ridged muscle of his meaty thigh, sending a shiver of excitement through her pussy and brain.

They stayed on the couch, kissing and grinding for a minute or more until the overload button inside Milla's mind lit up. "Get on top of me," she said, and they fumbled themselves into the missionary position, taking the opportunity to pull aside some key garments as they did.

When she had suggested he get on top of her, Milla had hoped to feel Lee's 184 pounds bearing down on her, longing for gravity and Lee's abundant muscles to drill into her and through her. Instead, as he thrust into her, Lee held his body off, as if self-conscious that his full weight would be too much for her to bear.

She thought maybe he would forget himself, that he would soon take his weight off his arms and press her hard into the understory of the lumpy, bumpy old couch. But a minute, two, three went by, and he never wavered in tenting himself. And the forthright pelvic strokes he was employing, she realized, were not going to bring her close to orgasm.

Then he changed his thrusting pattern to what she thought of as a sideways figure-8, and her hopes rose. His muscular abs pushed against the sensitive skin just above her clit. She focused on that part of her, envisioning the alligator-contoured lines of his six-pack undulating over her pubis. She pushed her crotch up, rubbing it against him, and felt herself start to climb toward something -- whether an actual climax or not, it was too early to tell.

Lee's breathing changed and she realized that he was close. "Oh, God," he said.

Unfortunately for her, he changed back from the sideways 8 to the pistoning he had been doing before. Still hoping for some resolution of her own, she closed her eyes and kept thinking about his ridged abs while shoving up against him even harder. His pumping got longer and slower, which allowed her better ab contact, and she experienced what she would later describe to Linda as "the world's smallest orgasm."

"Arrgh," he grunted, obviously trying to keep the sound level down. As Lee shuddered on top of her, his penis shrinking up and out of her pussy, she ran her fingers along the broad blades of his shoulders a little distractedly. That's when she heard footsteps in the hallway. She held her breath and Lee froze on top of her.

The light was still on in the living room, but whoever was approaching might not see them from the hallway over the back of the couch. The person seemed to go by and enter the kitchen. Milla heard the tap run for a moment and the clink of ice in a glass.

She looked at Lee's face, saw him smiling back at her in amazement. The other person turned off the kitchen light and padded back down the hallway to their room. 

Milla exhaled and felt the tension drain out of Lee's body. They started to snicker, and Lee said, "Let's go to my room!"

He led her to the farthest room in the corridor and held the door open. The desk in his room was cluttered, and the contents of his closet had spilled out onto the floor in front of it, but the rest of the room was oddly unadorned, as if he didn't spend any time there.

Lee closed the door and looked at her funny. "You didn't cum," he said.

"I did, it was just very --" she began to protest.

"Shut up," he said and kissed her gently. "We're going to fix that. Take of your clothes and lie down on the bed," he commanded.

She liked the bossy side of him. She removed her Corner Caf uniform, while he pulled off the tank top, displaying for her the small, rippling muscles of his back.

She lay down on the bed. "Shit, you're beautiful," he told her.

He walked to the edge of the bed and knelt on the floor while the anticipation swelled inside her. He grabbed her hips and repositioned her body so that she was lying across the mattress. He placed her knees on his shoulders, which lifted her ass an inch off the mattress.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"You'll see," he said. She felt him place his hands under her ass cheeks, then slowly lift her crotch toward his face as if bringing a triangle of pizza up to his mouth to be devoured. That left her legs dangling behind him and all her weight -- apart from what was in his hands -- resting on her shoulders and head. It became difficult for her to look at him, but she could feel him kiss her gently on her pussy lips, at the latitude where her clit was, and the pressure made her moan.

Then she felt something muscular and insistent push its way past her pussy lips. His tongue. It stroked her clit, flicked at it, slid alongside it. Milla had never loved cunnilingus, had never been able to keep the unerotic thought of her mom and Fatima from entering her head when anyone had performed oral sex on her, but this... This was something else altogether.

Lee's tongue left her clit to explore her vagina. Its movements mesmerized her, gave her the sensation that the tongue was a separate, living being -- a hairless ferret or a smooth-skinned python. It coiled and unfurled, it pushed and it prodded, always returning after short expeditions to the electric home base of her clit.

She reached out for his head with one hand, buried it in his hair and groaned. She turned her head to face right, but she was in too much ecstasy to keep it there for long, so she turned to face left and called out a long, "Aaaaahhhh."

Lee did not waver, neither in his lingual assault on her sex nor in the steady way he was lifting her.

He did this swirling spiral motion on her clit with the tip of his tongue which set off a climax. It overtook Milla in waves that started, oddly, in her head and undulated through her shoulders, her midriff until it caused even the crotch in Lee's mouth to move as if it were caught in a wave. Her legs tensed and flailed in the air on both sides of Lee's head. She could feel the growl in her throat turning into something louder and more high pitched, so she reached for Lee's pillow and jammed it into her face to muffle the caterwauling she was starting to emit.

He kept tonguing her without mercy and making her climax still harder. Her body was moving on its own -- curling in waves and then twisting from side to side -- and the screams would not stop emerging from her throat. She needed Lee to stop, but he showed no sign of letting up. Finally, she risked the noise and threw the pillow across the room. She grabbed Lee's head with each hand buried in his hair and pulled herself up as if doing a sit-up while hoisted a foot in the air.

"Stop!" she half pleaded, half screeched into Lee's face. "It's too intense!" Having mustered a moment of bodily control, she collapsed again, dropping her head and shoulders to the mattress and writhing in painful ecstasy as the realization of what Milla had said penetrated Lee's consciousness. He lowered her to the bed after a few deliciously excruciating moments, and she rolled up onto her side, facing away from him with eyes closed, struggling to catch her breath and feeling how the flesh in every corner of her body quivered.

He touched her thigh lightly, but even that much was too much sensation: She had the aftershock of an orgasm that made her tremble even harder than she already had been. She let out a gasping moan and crawled away from his hand until her face and breasts were flush with the cool painted sheetrock of the wall next to his bed. She lay there for who-knows-how-long, waiting for her body and her breathing to settle, rhythmically releasing husky, ragged gasps of breath.

As her nervous system started to approach something like normality, she felt Lee sit down next to her, leaning his back against the wall at the head of the bed. The hard flesh of his left thigh and hip pressed her further into the side wall. It was a single bed, and there wasn't really enough room for the two of them to lie side by side.

It took another full minute before Milla could turn herself around and touch his leg or hip. She smiled a tired smile at him. He looked more pleased with himself than anyone she had seen in a very long time. "Was that okay?" he asked disingenuously.

She snorted and said, "That was AMAZING. Where the hell did you learn how to do that?"

"Oh," he said with a smile. "I'm majoring in oral sex."

She chuckled. "Sweetheart, you could give a master class."

Lee pushed a stray lock of hair off her face tenderly. "Earlier," he started uncertainly, "on the couch..."

"You were very sweet, but I should have told you," she said slowly while stroking his taut thigh, not wanting to bruise his ego any more than it already had been. "I kind of like it less gentle."

"Less gentle?" He repeated and seemed to consider that for a moment. "Like you want to be slapped or something?" he asked.

Milla's thoughts jumped to even the scene in acting class with Harrison -- she might be interested in pursuing that same sort of mix of fright and turn-on. But being slapped just wasn't Milla's idea of fun. Especially not by an elite athlete like Lee who weighed almost twice as much as she did.

"No," she said. "Nothing like that."

"Then what?" he asked. "Spanking?"

This time, Milla thought about Grady at the bar, and a couple of pangs of electrical current shot through her still sore pussy. She noticed that just a few inches from her face, his penis was twitching back to life. She couldn't resist running her index finger along the half-turgid flesh of its shaft.

"We could try that," she said slowly. "But I had just been thinking that maybe you could be a little more forceful with me."

"I see," he said thoughtfully. "I can do that."

"Great," she said, and went back to playing with his penis.

But Lee seemed to have other ideas. He put his big hands on either side of her head and looked into her eyes intently, as if to convey some crucial information. Slowly but insistently, he moved her face up and above his dick, at half mast no longer. Suddenly she understood what he had in mind, and she liked the idea.

He brought her mouth down toward his thick shaft, and she opened up to let him in. He didn't stop until his penis was fully inside her mouth -- it wasn't long enough to set off her gag reflex, but it was wide enough to make her feel satisfyingly full. "Oh, yeah," he grunted, and began pumping his dick into her mouth in earnest.

Her nose was tickled by the pubic hair at the base of his penis, and she realized that she hadn't noticed hair anywhere else on his body apart from his head. The smell of his crotch reminded her of some Middle Eastern spice, like cumin or turmeric, and the flavor of his penis wasn't far removed from that.

Milla wasn't going to climax from giving him head, of course, but the way he was fucking her face with authority was making her desire him all the more. Her right hand stroked his rippling ab muscles, while her left found his balls and cupped them.

As his breathing grew shallower and his strokes in her mouth quickened, she kept swallowing away the saliva that built up in her mouth. Each time she did, he would say something like, "Ah, Christ!" In between, she ran a her tongue over the shaft and head of his penis, making him arch his back.