The Next One

She scanned the sidewalk. No one showed for as far as the eye could see. "Yeah, I'm kinda curious, you know? And no one can say I didn't give it my best?"

"I'm listening." He continued walking, turning down a side street.

"K. Give me an address and I'll meet you tonight at...nine?"

"All right. I can make dinner." He smiled, something that improved his looks.

"You cook?" she reconsidered. Microwave 101 with this guy, she thought. Did they even have microwaves when he was young?

"I'm no master chef, but I can chop veggies and make a full meal. Any preferences?"

"Surprise me," she said, thinking about it. I can eat something before, in case he can't cook.

"Well here's the address," he said, handing her a piece of paper. She took it, and started off to her dorm, a sway in her own ass, since she had more to work with, and a lot more in shape. Eat that, Gladys!

Arriving back at her dorm room, she found Zara waiting, along with Ellie. She looked flushed, but bummed out. Zara looked at Abrielle.

"So?" Her eyebrow raised a question mark in her expression.

"This one's going to take work," Abrielle said, looking over her shoulder.

Zara frowned. "Ellie's already done. He couldn't get it up?"

"Haven't got that far, yet. He's more..." she thought for a second, "complicated."

"He's an old guy," Ellie said. "How hard can it be?" They both laughed at the double entendre.

"I don't know yet. I've got a dinner date at his place, then..." she let the rest hang.

"You don't have to start a relationship with him," Zara pointed out, "just fuck him. Or is the cafeteria food that bad?"

"Look, is there a time limit on this?" Abreielle complained.

"Well, the record is two days, but that was back in the 50s'. With most guys, ten minutes is all you need."

"Well, I'll bring back the goods, Zara, don't worry about that."

"Just get it done, or we'll consider other candidates. I've got to go." Like a wooden figure on a sailing ship, she turned her twin orbs towards the door, leaving Ellie alone with Abrielle.

Watching her go away, Abrielle grabbed Ellie's arm. "Tell me all about it."

Ellie brightened some. "Well, you know the thing about long earlobes and long hands? Well, it didn't extend to his dick. He was enthusiastic, but I expected more."

"I see." You lucky bitch.

"He was 'wham, bam, and not even a thank you ma'am. You ever had a guy come and fall asleep on top of you?" Ellie rolled her eyes.

"You're kidding."

"I wish I was. I was all hot and bothered; he hadn't even made me come. The fucker was heavy! Plus, he snores!"

"That fast? Usually I get some pillow talk, at least." Abrielle plunged into the overstuffed couch, nearer to her friend.

"Abrielle, he looked great! But it was all about him, you know? I mean, I don't mind blowing a guy, but he was on a trigger. It took me twenty minutes to get him up again. Well, at least I can say I've done deep throat now. Not like it was a challenge."

"Lucky you, Ellie. All I had to do was fake an interest in robotics, dodge a female professor who has the hots for him, and argue about was I woman enough for him."

"What an asshole!"

Abrielle winced. "Well, it does sound like it. He's sweet, but I wouldn't make him a habit. And he's been married, his wife died or something. I'm sure she taught him something, at least I hope so."

"Does he remember your name?" She leaned forward, trying to keep the conversation private.

"Yeah, he does."

"You lucky bitch, beefcake minor didn't even remember mine. I hope you have some fun tonight."

Abrielle smiled. "Not as much as I do." She looked away. Was she actually looking forward to tonight? He was a creepy old guy...sorta. Well, something...she went upstairs, deciding what to wear. It was just sex...right?

There's a sort of language to dressing which men may not understand. A wardrobe makes a statement. Casual? Maybe, but you want him to light up when he sees you, she thought. Not slutty, they'll think you have a thing for him, and you'll never hear the end of it. For the next five minutes she mixed, matched, and put together something that said 'call me, maybe', she giggled. Her mom always went on about that song, even though it was older than she was.

So she went out the door in a slightly casual dress, but with something to open up to display her charms, if she needed. Her phone gave her directions to his place; she took an odd turn and doubled back in case someone was following her. She wasn't paranoid; she just didn't want any juicy details to get out before she had a chance to acknowledge them.

The street was quiet, unusual for 8:30, she was late. He's old-fashioned, he won't mind. She wondered, was he too old to get it up? Mom had been complaining about Dad in private, while she was holding her ears, making it quite plain she didn't want to know...yech.

Still, he was...old. Who knew what kinky things they did back in the...00s? If she had to cosplay for him, no deal. Her low heels clicked on the asphalt, still glistening from an afternoon rain. She breathed in a chilly breath of air, breathing in the odor of cut lawns, last of the season, and thought about past boyfriends.

According to the faint glow of her phone, she was there. Interesting, an older home, one of those humongous things from the turn of the century. It probably didn't even have a computer, or smart appliances. Well, then he did look like a geek, so maybe he...she stopped. Why the fuck am I interested? I'm just going to jump in, jump him, and get lost. Shaking her head, she started towards the yard, then stopped as she noticed someone already knocking on the door.

Slipping out of the glare of the streetlight, she hid behind a tree, as she noticed...that bitch again, Gladys. Did he invite her over? Were they an item or something? She was just close enough to see the door open.

"Gladys? What brings you here?" he said.

"Oh, I was just in the neighborhood. I was sorry about the way I acted earlier today. I just wanted to apologize."

You should, bitch, Abrielle thought.

"That's quite all right, I was just explaining..."

"Robotics, to that young chippie?" Gladys concluded.

Chippie? What the fuck is a chippie? It didn't sound polite, whatever it was. Back to bitch the older women went.

"Well, nothing like that. She's not even a tech major, just being polite."

Thanks for nothing, dude.

"May I come in?"

No! Not now!

"Well, I was about to make dinner and work on my lesson plan..."

"Oh, I'll just be a minute..." and breezed past him, before he had a chance to stop her.

Bitch! That fucking bitch! It was bad enough she had to go through with this, without some dried-up crone muscling in on her...obligation?

She only wants him 'cause she thinks I want him! Back off girl or else!

She peeked around the trunk, looking to see if she could see where they'd gone. There was a window open on the side of the house. She crept up to it, trying to see or hear.

"...so I just realized that there might be something after all to you, Ron."

Well, that explained it. The old biddy saw a young thing paying him attention, and decided to cut in line. Is she really going out with him? Something is going wrong around here, she mused. Why do I have to be the seal of approval?

She heard the clink of crockery, and something grilling on the stove. It smelled good, and after a week of cafeteria food and delivery, she found her mouth watering. Fucking bitch; I could have least got a good meal out of it.

She found a cinderblock propped next to some garbage cans, propped it next to the wall. At least it didn't look dirty, so she could sit on it. She cringed as it made a stone like grind, but the two in the kitchen didn't hear. Gladys had him circled and staked out, in for the kill.

"So, I was wondering Ron, are you seeing anyone?"

"Well, not at the moment, but there's not a lot of time in our profession. Why do you ask?"

"Well, there's enough food here for two, for starters."

"It's all for me, Gladys, I came by this potbelly honestly."

Echh...that's disgusting, the student below considered. She leaned against the side of the house, her blood starting to boil. Was he that innocent?

"Well you shouldn't eat all that yourself. Why don't I help?"

"Gladys, I..." he shuffled his feet.

Well that's rude...fuck the man and eat my lunch.

"Oh, you've got plenty. I'm a girl with appetites too, you know."

"Gladys..."

"Just a taste? It smells yummy from here."

I'll yummy you into next week, you filthy cunt!

She heard something being put down, clacking on the table. "Well, I can give you a serving, but I've really got to get to work, you know."

Gladys giggled, further incensing Abrielle. It's not funny when you do it, grandma, she thought.

"Nonsense, its Friday night. Mmm...This is good, Ron. A man who can cook is too good to go to waste."

Aaiigh! She projected Just let me get some dick, and I'm gone, you fuckhead, this is embarrassing enough!

A chair groaned, and she heard heels walking across the kitchen. A rustling of clothes, and she heard Gladys whispering, but she couldn't make it out. What was that asshole doing?

"Gladys, I...this isn't professional."

"We're not at work, Ron. And I've had my eye on you...oh, my. I didn't know you were so gifted!"

Oh that does it, she's dead, dead dead! Hands off the dick! She heard a cloth like rustling, and the unmistakable sound of a zipper.

More rustling above had her worried. Old guys were...well, they were only good for one time, right? If the old lady got her mitts on him, she'd have to work half the night! This isn't fair!

"Gladys...oh, fuck, don't...please...please don't stop." A slick sound up above, sucking, and pops and slurps made it clear what she was up to. Gladys moaned softly as she worked.

Fuck! Gladys one, me nothing! Overhead, lip-smacking noises and moaning made it clear what was happening.

What to do now? Would she spend the whole night? Zara gave her the weekend, then she'd have to try pledging somewhere else. I'm on a timetable here, bitch. Just take your dentures out and suck him off, she thought. Despite the anger she still felt building, she noticed a growing moistness between her legs. I'm getting turned on?

"Mmm...damn you're big, Ron. I can barely get you into my mouth!"

"Gladys, we shouldn't be doing this," he said, and Abrielle heard a chair move. Maybe he's pulling away, maybe she'll stop.

"I agree. Which way is your bedroom? I've got it just as hard as I want it. Let me show you what I can do with a mattress..."

Oh, she does not talk like that! She's got to be pulling 50, not just pushing it...

Abrielle's fists were clenched, all the better to pop that ancient slut a good one in the mouth. Two sets of feet walked down the wooden floors, off into the distance. Well, that was it. What to do now? She got up silently, brushing the cinderblock dust off of her ass, started back up the sidewalk. She made a note of Professor Bitch's car and license plate. Deflate her tires? No, that would only make her stay there longer. Hold that thought for another day.

Dejected, she slunk back to her dorm room. Only a solitary cricket, the last of the year, chirruped behind her, before it died, like her hopes.

I'm going to have to face her, so I might as well face the music. Paging Zara, she found the woman upstairs, alone, in her own dorm room. It was sparsely decorated, a lot bigger than Abrielle's, and was filled with antique furniture, an illegal hot plate, and even an espresso machine. Stacks of books lined one wall, mostly history, management, and psychology.

"Well, do you have the package?" Zara asked, an eyebrow rising.

"No. The bastard was grabbed by a female professor. She was fucking blowing him in the kitchen."

Zara smiled at that, averting her eyes. "And then she left?"

Abrielle snorted. "She's probably starting round two by now. So I wanted to ask you..." she pulled herself up straight, hands on hips, "if I can just select another guy."

Zara's eyes rolled, which probably counted for a 'no'. "Listen, part of this whole exercise is to see how you handle diversity. It wasn't meant to be easy."

"Well, Ellie didn't seem to have any problem."

Zara motioned for her to sit. "Ellie's a legacy; her mom was here in around 2014 or so. You're not. We naturally set higher standards."

"A washed-up limp dick geezer like that? How is that adversity? Ten minutes with a hand job and I would have been done."

"Then why haven't you?" She drew back, crossing her arms.

"I..." she grew silent as she realized she'd sprung a trap."Well, he was hardly alone, was he? Every time I tried to make my move, this bitch sidles up in the way. He's going to be dry by the time that one is done."

"Well, you might be careful who you call 'bitch'," Zara said, leaning towards her charge, "is she going to spend the night?"

"How the fuck would I know?"

"Listen, Abrielle, here's what we're testing. Life is not a picnic. Thing get in the way, don't go as planned, you're going to face adversity, opposition, even create enemies. To show the kind of attitude we want, you have to show us that you can face and overcome challenges. We want to know that you can go outside the program, and show us innovative ways to solve the problem we've set for you."

Abrielle leaned back, frowning. "You make this sound like a job interview or something."

"It is. The Greek system is designed to pick the exceptional and give them every advantage in life. The one thing we can't guarantee is how to handle things when they don't go as planned. That's what you have to show us. Also, you're going to find that your way to the top is often blocked by guys his age. You have to be clever, and you have to know your enemy." She looked into Abrielle's eyes, right at the word 'enemy.'

"How long have I got?"

Zara smiled, eyes narrowed. "The record is two days. That gives you..." she looked at the clock on her tablet, "about thirty-nine hours."

"It's also about eleven. He's no doubt out for the count."

"I'm sure you have ways of reviving boyfriends who leave you stranded?" she smirked.

Abrielle stood up, facing her mentor. "Well, yeah...but older guys, they don't come back up as fast. From what I hear," she said. Thanks, mom, she thought.

Zara turned away from her, looking out the window. "Consider it a challenge. Now you have to go; I'm expecting my second date in about twenty minutes."

Abrielles eyebrows peaked. "You've already had a date, and now..." There could only be two big reasons for that.

"Sometimes you can't do just one. Now shoo, as grammaw used to say."

Closing the door behind her, the pledge shook her head. "She's just showing off," she grumbled, until she remembered what her own grandpa used to say..."it's not bragging if you can do it."

"Well, gramps, let's go rustle up the elusive trouser snake." She checked again to see if she had the condom, then strode back out into the night air.

A few blocks later, she was back in front of the professor's house, and Gladys was gone. There was a light still on, so with luck, the man was still up, or soon would be. She checked herself out, lowered her top to expose more cleavage, and went to knock on the door. She didn't hear anyone, so again with the knock.

Someone came to the door, irregular shambling footsteps... She looked behind her; no one was out on the street at this time of night. The door opened, and professor Twixt looked out at her.

"Oh." He looked out, scanning the neighborhood. "Come in. Listen, about tonight..." She put a hand to his lips.

"Yeah, Gladys stops by, eats all the food, shows you a good time and leaves. Are you sure she's not a he?" It sounded like some of her dates in high school.

He looked at her, surprised, at a loss for words. "Ah, no...I can categorically state that Gladys is a she, she supplied ample proof." Sitting down on the hall bench, he looked over, fatigue in his eyes. "I think it's been a while for her." He looked towards the kitchen. "She didn't even leave any leftovers."

"Forget about that. I still want this," she put a hand on his crotch, "and it...hmmm...it's bigger than I thought." He was thick, not too much for her, but round and long enough. This would fill her, and then some. If she didn't look at his face, she could probably get off on this salami. He moaned, hands reaching for her tits. Let him, she thought, I could use some attention. Fuck, it's been a while for me too.

She leaned down, her lips only a touch away from his, warming her face. Then they touched her own lips, pressing hard against hers, the tongue parting her own, as they began to dance. Hmm, he's a good kisser, she thought, slipping into his arms, pulling him closer.

The kiss went on, warming her up, making her moist. Nothing tentative about it, he knew what she wanted; exploring her body, learning what thrilled her, stroking the already-hard nipples, sending shivers of lust straight down to her pussy. She moaned against him, guiding his hand to both breasts, starting to melt against him, breaking the kiss. "Bedroom, now" she croaked, shaking with anticipation.

She followed him down the hallway, watching his butt move the way she liked, though she had to admit that it wasn't as firm as it could be. Still, it would be a good handful, when he was inside of her, and that counted. He opened the door, gesturing towards the bed. She watched his face, looking at his eyes shining. He wants it, she smirked, and he wants me. Not like some dried up old...

Behind them, a knock sounded at the door. "Shit!" they said together. Ronald looked panicked. "I hope it's not..." the door rattled again. Someone was insistent. "Ron, are you there?" a voice called out, loud enough to hear in the bedroom.

"Coming!" he called. He turned to look at her. You've got to hide in here," he said. He opened a door to the closet, dark and musty. She didn't want to be locked up in there.

"But..."

"I'll try to get rid of her," he hissed. "It won't be long."

"Good, but don't forget me." She got into the closet, closing the wooden door. The world grew dark and spooky; there was nothing visible except some faint light through the keyhole, and under the door. The wooden floor was hard and cold, she'd better not have to be in here very long.

Well, at least I'm in. Now a few feet, we're on the bed and...She clamped her thighs together. She was almost ready, and then this has to happen!

"No, really Ronald, I couldn't concentrate. That big, hard cock of yours, I just can't leave it alone." Abrielle could hear cloth rustling, footsteps coming towards the bed.

"Gladys, I need to get an early start in the morning, I don't think I can get another..."

"Oh, I beg to differ professor, its hardening up already. You thinking of me? Let me see it." She heard Twixt moan in protest, then a long, wet, slurp.

"I want this," Gladys panted, "inside me. Fuck me, fuck me now." There was a long, extended sigh, and a prideful laugh. "Oh yes, that's just where it belongs."

"Uh, don't you want the bed?" Sock-clad feet stumbled against the floor; two shoes were kicked, clattering against the closet door. Abrielle gasped. Don't throw them in here!

"I don't think I can wait that long, Ronald. Right here, right now." Something hit the wall. Probably her fat ass, Abrielle thought. A rhythmic bumping sound started, meaty smacks as two hips rammed against each other. A slick, liquid sound as he plunged over and over into her wetness.

"Yes, yes, that's right, ram it in there, stud. Oh, it's so big, fuck me with that cock." The female professor wasn't at a loss for words, "Ohh, yes, right there, let me, mmm, fuck yeah. Harder, do it harder!" she squealed. The pounding got faster.