Milla at College - Week 03

"I love it," she said.

"That sold for $400 in stores, but I can give you the friend's rate of $200," he said.

It was a lot, even with her job at the Corner Caf. "Okay," she said, thinking that she would have to make do without a few shopping trips.

"But I normally pay models $150 a shoot, so let's call it even," he said, smiling. "As long as you sign one of those releases on my desk."

She looked toward his desk and back at him uncertainly. "Are you sure?"

Williams nodded. "More than sure," he said. "These are going on my website tonight. And I may have modeling gigs for you in the future. I do trunk shows that I think you'd be perfect for."

Milla was stunned with his generosity."I don't have any experience as a runway model, and I don't think I have the right look for it," she said a little scared that he would change his mind.

"You don't need that for the trunk shows," he answered quietly. "It's better to be a regular human for those -- albeit a beautiful one." She blushed again.

"But you are going to need to buy yourself some actual high-heeled shoes," he said.

* * *

Friday afternoon was hot and sunny, and Milla decided to do her readings at the main campus library, a big, stone building that was invariably 10 degrees cooler than the more modern, glass-sided buildings that dominated campus. The building's rickety elevators bypassed the mezzanine for some reason, and very few students chose to work at the carrels on that level, placed in between the long floor-to-ceiling shelves of books.

As she approached the grand steps in front of the library, her eyes scanned the smattering of students who were hanging out on the lawn. About 50 feet away was Rane, the black student who had unexpectedly burst into her dorm room on her first night at Santa Rosa, having just stolen from a frat what may have been a valuable bible belonging to one of the college's first black students. She had been struck by his puckish intelligence, his roasted-almond-colored skin, and his graceful body, and they had ended the night fucking on an open-air balcony in front of the Santa Rosa Star, overlooking the bay.

Today he was dressed in olive green cargo pants, and a white Oxford-style shirt he had open nearly to the navel. Around his neck was a silken-looking scarf that had puffy white clouds on a sky blue field. He was standing over a guy in shorts and a t-shirt who was sitting next to a maroon skateboard. Rane was in the middle of saying something to him when he glanced up and made eye contact with Milla.

She smiled and waved. He smiled back and nodded at her -- then continued saying whatever he had been saying. It wasn't the warmest-feeling greeting, and Milla got a bit annoyed. Rane had left the bible in her care (in her underwear drawer, to be precise), and hadn't contacted her about it since. Just who did he think he was? But if Milla was being honest with herself, she would admit that of the handful of men she'd had sex with at college so far, he had been the most alluring.

She climbed the stairs and her satiny miniskirt swished around her. She had paired the skirt with a light blue cotton knit top that had two ties, one at the collar and the other between her breasts. Because the shirt was fairly stretchy, the space between the ties was almost like a cut-out, and the sides of the shirt below her breasts angled away from each other, leaving much of her abdomen and belly button exposed.

As she entered the building and her body accustomed itself to cool marbled interior, she felt her phone vibrate inside her bag. She fished it out and looked at the message alert as she started climbing the stairs to the mezzanine. It was from Lee. "The Libertine Prophecy is on," it read.

Andrade must have approved their midterm project. Now that it was a reality, the idea of encouraging men to grope her at the bar seemed like less of a lark and more like asking for trouble. Plus she'd have to speak with Grady, the bartender she'd had sex with, and Drex, the manager, to see what each of them would be willing to let her do in the name of a psychology experiment.

She was thinking about how to approach each one as she entered the section containing books on public administration. Her favorite carrel was there. It had a convenient electrical outlet, decent wifi connectivity, and natural light from a high window. Plus, she had never seen another living soul there.

She might be able to convince Drex to let her put up some signs. What had Grady said that shift when he'd slapped her ass and the customers that witnessed it got a bit more handsy? That it was "National Spank Your Waitress Day," or something. Maybe they could use that.

She put her bag down on the inlaid slate top of the carrel and pushed the wooden chair to one side. That's when a hand clamped down on her mouth from behind and a muscular black arm curled around her midriff, pulling her back into a solid male torso. Milla might have been more alarmed if it weren't for the sandalwood smell of the hand on her mouth, which she remembered keenly from the first two times that Rane had covered her mouth.

The man holding her whispered in Milla's ear, "Last time you told me not to ask, to just do. I hope that still holds."

She had said that at the Santa Rosa Star, before Rane pressed her into the balcony rail and rammed his penis into her soaking pussy from behind. She nodded now, hoping to have a similar sort of experience.

"Good," he said, breathing out softly and straight into her ear. The sensation of that exhaled word traveled through her brain, into her spinal cord and echoed in her pussy. he pinned her hips against the desk, and uncoiled his arm from her midsection. He brought that hand up to her left breast and rubbed it hard, causing her nipple to harden and turn over in whichever direction he stroked.

She let out a soft "aah" into the meat of the palm of his hand, and pushed her ass into him.

Rane nibbled on her left earlobe and squatted down a bit so that his crotch was directly in contact with her ass. He thrust up along her ass crack with the fly of his pants, which was barely restraining his stiff penis. Then he said, quietly, "Can you feel how hard I am?"

Milla nodded and rolled her eyes up into her head.

"You know what? I don't trust you," he said, a little sad-sounding. "I think you're going to lose your mind when I put my cock inside you. Given how hard it is, you won't be able to keep yourself from screaming, will you?"

His bawdy words were turning up the heat already scrambling her brain. "Yes," she said, although she could barely hear herself.

"See, that's a problem," he went on, softly. "Someone is sure to hear us." He pinched her left nipple hard through the cotton of her shirt and she yelped into his hand. "I think I'm going to have to gag you," he said, and her heart fluttered at the words.

He took his hand off her left breast and pulled his scarf off his neck. "Shh," he said as he took his right hand off her mouth. "Please keep quiet."

It wasn't easy, as he kept grinding his stiff cock into the crack of her ass while he balled up and knotted the middle of his scarf. He did it so fast that she wondered how many times he had turned scarves into ball gags, but she didn't have enough time to fully work out the repercussions of the thought before he brought the knot up to her mouth.

"Open," he commanded.

She did as she was told. She had worried that she would gag on the scarf, but she managed to suppress the urge. It tasted a little salty and not as horrible as she had feared. Rane pulled the ends of the scarf to the back of her head and tied them securely. Then he pushed her head and shoulders down with his right hand until her head and torso were resting on the slate top of the carrell. At the same time, he undid his cargo pants with his other hand. Milla heard his belt buckle hit the tile floor with a clatter.

Soon she felt his unsheathed dick stroking the valley of her ass and crotch through the satin material of her skirt. "I had almost forgotten how sexy you are," he said in a whisper.

Rane used both hands to lift the hem of her skirt and place it on top of her ass, and she felt cool air blow across her cheeks. He moved the thin material of her thong to one side and stroked her pussy lips with his long, slender fingers, sending shots of electricity through her loins.

She moaned into the scarf ball-knot. The longer it was in her mouth, the slimier the material became. At first the feeling was unpleasant, but as soon as Rane's dick entered her vagina, Milla stopped thinking about the scarf -- in fact, she stopped thinking about just about everything that wasn't his penis.

It was long, it was very hard, and it had excellent girth. It was her gold standard for cocks, Milla thought, realizing what a ridiculous idea that was. She let out a low gurgling moan and came to the conclusion that he had been right: She would have made a lot of noise.

Rane didn't bother with slow pumping -- he went straight to a medium clip, sliding his dick deep into her, then pulling nearly all the way out before plunging back in. She found herself pushing back on his thrusts, with his testicles slapping up into her pubic bone in a way that shouldn't have felt as erotic as it did. He grabbed onto the back end of the scarf with one hand and pulled her head up off the slate. The forcefulness of the act made her call out with pleasure.

He kept going with a steady pace, sliding his penis straight in and out of her pussy. She could feel herself building up to a slow boil, when Rane changed his position. He let go of her her head and hooked his hands around the joints between her thighs and pelvis. He then stood up to his full height, bringing her hips up with him, four or five inches above the level of the carrell. With her head and shoulders resting on the desktop, it wasn't exactly a comfortable position for her, but her pussy was now at a perfect ramming level, and Rane began plowing into her hard and fast.

Her feet had come up off the floor, and her legs were getting bounced around. Both of the slip-on mules she had worn flew off and slapped onto the ground.

She tried to find the slope of his ass to rest her feet on, but wherever she tried to put them, they would slip off within a few thrusts. Soon she became wholly focussed on a different part of her body and left her legs to dangle as they would.

Rane was starting to put an upswing at the end of his thrusts, and the tip of his penis was bumping hard into the wall that separated her pussy and her rectum. By the tenth or so time, it was causing her insane amounts of pleasure, and she ululated in a long wail that was slightly audible despite the scarf gag.

Rane seemed oblivious to her reaction -- he just hammered relentlessly at that spot that was making her explode with sensation. It didn't take much longer for her orgasms to begin. At the Star, her climax had taken the form of a field of white light in her brain, but this time it was more like those illustrations showing concentric circles where the epicenter of an earthquake strikes. The center point of this climax was the place his dick kept striking, and her flesh began to quiver all around it.

Her muffled screaming grew more desperate as the quivering orgasm spread outward from the epicenter, down her flopping legs and up through her diaphragm and breasts. None of that seemed to register with Rane, and he continued to pound her and drive her into greater madness.

When her entire body felt jittery with sensation, a tsunami of warmth began rushing out from the wall between her vagina and rectum, rushing through the rest of her body until she curled her toes and could even feel the heat course down the long locks of hair on her head.

It took another minute or so of Rane bringing the bone and cartilage of their pelvic areas together with a loud thwap, before he started grunting in precursor to his own climax. His strokes became longer and slower, causing the head of his penis pushed even harder against the pleasure center in her pussy, and Milla continued to experience both flesh-quakes and heat waves as he finished.

"Oh, fuck," he muttered and then exploded inside her with a torrent of cum. The gush sent Milla to yet another climax, and she felt her entire body become a mass of jelly that someone was running electricity through.

Rane kept pumping for another 15, 20 seconds as his balls emptied themselves inside her. She was breathing in ragged gasps at this point, her eyes closed, unable to decide where on the carrell even to place her hands.

When his thrusts slowed to a near-crawl, he laid her hips on the desktop gently and his dick slipped out of her pussy with an audible gasp. For a moment, a long trail of semen connected her pussy to his fading cock. She couldn't bring herself to do anything except quiver and breathe feebly, lying there with her breasts and face pressed against the desktop and her ass exposed for the world to see.

Rane untied the scarf at the back of her head, and the ball-knot plopped out of her mouth trailing saliva, reminding her so much of how it felt when his penis left her body that she smiled. She heard him doing up his pants. Still weak and quivering, she thought she saw movement on the other side of the bookcase to their left, but it was a trick of the light. Her brain just unable to make sense of the signal her eyes were sending.

Rane gently returned her thong to its original position and pulled her skirt down over her ass. He then laid a kiss on her spine, about an inch above where the nub of her tail bone was, setting off a very gentle shuddering aftershock inside her.

After her nerves had settled down again, she lifted her head and upper torso a few inches. She looked for the location of the chair and settled herself quietly into it.

Rane seemed distracted by something on her torso, and, looking down, Milla realized that her breasts were exposed -- the lower tie on the shirt had come undone, and it had pulled wide apart on the slate desktop.

"Your norks are trying to escape," he said and reached out to tie the undone stay, first tucking her breasts gently under the cotton fabric.

She let him tend to her. "I really had that term," she muttered after a moment.

"Norks?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said. She let out a long breath and grabbed her shoes out from under the carrell. "You'd better get out of here so I can get some work done."

He nodded and picked up his scarf. "This thing is wrecked," he said, but he kept trying to undo the ball-knot. "And oh, we tracked down a guy to look at the bible. I'm just trying to work out a time for him to examine it in the next week or two."

"Sure," she said, watching him continue to struggle with the knot. "Just let me know."

He finally got it undone and she saw that her saliva had caused some of the baby blue tint to fade into the white clouds. "Hey, would you promise me something?" she asked suddenly.

"What?"

"Next time," she said, "please let me give you a blow job."

He looked at her with a quizzical expression. "It's just that I haven't really gotten a proper look at your dick," she told him. She paused and then said, "Please."

He smiled and said, "I feel fairly certain that I can accommodate your request."