The Widow's Gift Pt. 04

...and they all parted before Levi like the water before Moses, often shooting him shy glances or outright staring at the long-striding young man as he hurried to class.

The extra attention was as unwelcome as it was embarrassing.

"Well, look at you Mill-tard. Traded in mommy's skirts for a pair of big boy panties today, did we?"

Britney stood squarely in his path with hands on hips, wearing her UIS cheerleader uniform and that trademark bitchy grin Levi was so unfortunately familiar with.

"Britney, please... I'll have your course notes ready by lunchtime as usual." He said, trying to reason with the all-American blonde as he went to step around her. "We don't have to keep doing this."

For all her many faults, the junior star of the UIS Prairie Stars Cheer Squad was an undeniable smoke-show. She was tall with a lean body honed by years of gymnastics into a flipping, kicking, and spinning wet dream on the sidelines of every college football match as many fans went to watch the teen beauty queen shake her firm upturned tits, pert little ass and--incidentally--pom poms as they did to support the home team.

"Are you trying to say you're not pleased to see me?" Britney pouted beautifully. Everything she did came across as effortlessly beautiful as she set herself in front of Levi again. "I'm not thrilled about wasting my precious time on pasty trash like you either, Mill-tard. I'm only here to clue you in on our new arrangement."

"New arrangement?" He was only half listening to his long-time tormentor as the cigarette smoke and blaring music from under the Lincoln statue continued its assault on his sensitive nose and ears. They had to be over thirty feet away. Didn't anyone realize how obnoxious they were all being? "What are you talking about?"

"Pay attention when I'm talking, wimp." Britney jabbed him in the chest with a painted fingernail. Levi shied away on instinct before realizing the poking didn't hurt like it used to. "I'm telling you how things are going to be from here on out. These are my good friends and squad mates Tessa and Farah..."

She indicated two lithe stunners in matching little blue and white cheer skirts and sports bra tops standing a ways back behind her. Levi didn't catch who was who--the latest punk hit encouraging listeners to kindly fuck the establishment was distracting him--but guessed the athletic brunette with the long legs and toned belly was probably Tessa, making the mocha-skinned knock-out sporting some fun-looking handfuls on her chest and sculpted hips Farah by process of elimination.

The alluring pair of barely legal coeds kept glancing nervously between him and Britney. Levi's cock remained steadfastly at half-mast, shoved partway down one pant leg and pulsing its approval of their anxious expressions. Like two frightened gazelles sensing the apex predator was nearby.

But where was Kimmy? He knew how Carmen was presently occupied--as complicated as that whole situation might be--but the aloof Asian ice queen never skipped attendance of his daily ego-crushing torture.

"Hey! Eyes on me, perv." Britney snapped, trying to get up in his face, then scowled when she noticed he had a few new inches on her. "Have you started wearing wearing insoles or something--"

"What is it that you want, Britney?" Levi groaned in frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose. His head was beginning to hurt from the noxious reek of nicotine, and his manhood was stubbornly hogging the blood flow his brain gravely needed for dealing with the mouthy shrew. "It's hot out, and I have places to be."

"Whatever." She harrumphed, crossing her slender arms under her perky chest and turning her nose up at him. "These lovely young ladies have promised to back my run for cheer captain next year, and in return, I have graciously decided that you can do some of their homework too. It's a whole quid pro quo thing. I doubt you'd understand."

Levi badly wanted to explain, in no uncertain terms, that he did indeed understand Latin terminology and exercise some acta, non verba in telling the buxom bitch to go mulgere hircum at her earliest convenience.

...but some deeply rooted timidity stayed his tongue in the face of her glaring feminine superiority and brazen entitlement. So he just shook with impotent rage as she turned with a dismissive flick of her long golden hair and glided away with her two latest flunkies in tow. Three perfect derrieres swaying enticingly beneath short swishing skirts as they went.

"For fucks sake..." Levi growled through gritted teeth once they were safely out of sight and spun to stomp back towards the disorderly crowd sheltering under the mounted bronze of the sixteenth US president. "It's like common fucking courtesy doesn't exist anymore."

They spotted him approaching. A dozen guys and girls dressed in ripped jeans, faded ska band t-shirts, wearing enough studded leather cuffs, and shiny wallet chains to supply a Hot Topic factory outlet gave him worried looks.

"Oh, hey man." A gangly youth with a quaffed-up brohawk and a hand-rolled dart dangling from his bottom lip climbed to his feet and extended his bony hand to Levi in greeting. "How's it hanging?"

His torn black shirt was poached from something called "The Porkers '99 Grand Tour." Levi snorted in derision. The pallid whelp wouldn't have been a twinkle in his father's eye back then.

"What's that?" Levi asked gruffly, indicating the small portable speaker that was the source of all his auditory woes.

"Ummm, that's 'Rise to the Challenge' by The Sagebrush Proclamation. It's the hottest new sound coming out of--"

"It's shit is what it is." He snarled, baring his teeth at the rock star wannabe who went white at his angry expression. "Turn it off and extinguish that smoking dick you're sucking on before I do it for you."

The small group gawped up at him like a flock of frightened sheep discovering a rabid wolf in their midst. Cigarettes were hurriedly stubbed out, and the speaker shut down with one last chiming beep. The guys all studiously examined their toes and waffling apologetic sounds while a few of the young women stared in mute wonder back at Levi.

One in particular, a petite little thing with short black hair and white bangs framing her cute face, shot to her feet and gave him a shy grin. Her winter gray eyes sparkled with mischief and excitement as Levi gave her a brief once-over.

Chunky combat boots led up to skinny legs in torn fishnets emerging from a fashionably tattered red tartan skirt. Her itty-bitty titties fit nicely into a tiny black leather bustier that tightly hugged her willowy torso, and a choker of midnight lace adorned her swanlike neck.

"Hi guy, sorry for all the bother." She said with a hopeful lilt in her voice and too much purple eyeshadow. "I'm Madison if you wanna hang out sometime--"

"I've got classes to attend," Levi said, shaking his head and mentally trying to calm his rage boner. "So should the rest of you. Now fuck off. I don't want to mess up my nice new duds dealing with you lot."

With that, he spun on his heel and stalked away, leaving a mixture of relieved and disappointed faces behind him.

________________

How was everybody so goddamn stupid?

Kimmy looked down from an empty study room on the second floor as Levi "Mill-tard" Millard marched out of the colonnade with people scattering to get out of his way.

Something was very different about the usually stooped and spineless nerd.

She had cottoned onto that fact the moment he stepped through the front gates that morning. He looked like a changed man. A totally different person with his jaw squared, back straight, and gaze challenging anyone who met his eye. There was no possible way that Britney's whipping boy had been hiding an extra few inches in height and shoulder breadth--not to mention that thick head of flowing russet hair--under his geeky facade only to surprise everyone with it now like some trashy Hollywood make-over show.

No. Something was going on there, and Kimmy's fine-tuned social spidey sense had clamored like the bells of Notre Dame the instant she spotted him.

So the delicately attractive Korean honors student did what any true academic would do; maintain a clinical distance and observe the anomalous subject from afar with intellectual detachment.

She didn't actually care about Millard.

His utter insignificance in her dark almond eyes would have been his best protection from her icy scrutiny, except for two unfortunate twists of fate in the first semester. He had outperformed her in their COM 236 Introduction to Digital Media class around the same time that Britney was searching for a pliable brainiac to browbeat into scholastic slavery.

The former was an unforgivable offense, the latter a convenient coincidence. Sometimes when a mortal was as heaven-blessed with beauty, brains, and a cut-throat competitive spirit as Kimmy Choi, the stars simply aligned like that.

It was the only reason she had deigned to spend her limited free time with the likes of Britney and Carmen. They were birds of a feather, and whatever the two athletes lacked in cerebral prowess, they more than compensated for in animal cunning, ruthless ambition, and their own personal brands of peerless womanly charms.

...And branding was everything, as Kimmy well knew as a double business analytics and advertising major.

She knew her svelte size-zero figure coupled with supple well-formed breasts, impeccably styled hair, and her modelesque features made her the object of hormonal attraction to all the k-pop obsessed weebus of the university. She accepted it as both her due and burden to bear.

But today, that doormat Millard was going so far off-brand for himself that a group of tracking bloodhounds wouldn't be able to follow his usually sweaty scent. That made Kimmy all kinds of wary yet curious, as though discovering a new breed of snake and not knowing if its bite contained venom.

How had nobody else noticed, were they all that goddamn stupid?

Which was why she hadn't warned Britney off her morning dose of sniveling subjugation. All the better to quantify how much backbone Mill-tard had grown over the short course of a single weekend. Carmen was mysteriously absent and not responding to messages on any of her usual social apps, but Kimmy had heard some disturbing scuttlebutt about the vicious soccer starlet's game performance on Sunday which mattered not a whit to her studious sensibilities.

Then Levi had endured--if not precisely rebuffed--the self-important blonde's verbal attacks and demands. The physical signals of anxious apprehension were still there but lacked something intangible... the usual fawning, perhaps? The satisfying cringes of shameful fear? But the worthless wretch hadn't bent or broken like he usually did, and when he turned on those layabout punks with their imbecilic rock music...

"Oh hey, is this the nine o'clock 'Alternatives to Incarceration' study lab?" A young man with a rash of acne scars across his sallow cheeks asked, poking his head through the study room door.

Kimmy didn't say a word as she pushed past him into the bustling college halls to further pursue the subject of her examination.

________________

Levi was slumped low in his chair at the back of the small lecture hall and chewing the end off his pencil.

It wasn't that his Media Writing class wasn't engaging. Miss Fanning was a seasoned, engaging teacher who injected life into all her lessons by expounding the real-world applications of the course material and encouraging student interaction throughout the lecture.

She was also a modestly pretty redhead of middling years who clearly took care of her appearance and favored form-fitting business attire that accentuated her spruce figure. Worse still, the digital projector at the front of the class was on the fritz, and each time she bent over to troubleshoot the infernal device, her tight rear seemed to be pointed directly towards Levi.

"For the love of all that is holy..." He griped under his breath, trying to surreptitiously adjust his persistent erection through his slacks under the concealing cover of the desk.

"Sorry, are you talking to me?" A hopeful-sounding voice chirped from beside Levi.

One seat over to his left sat a preppy little undergrad with ebony hair and dusky skin, dressed in spray-on black leggings and a baggy off-the-shoulder white t-shirt with a cartoon puppy printed across the gentle swell of her young chest. It had a blue bow tied between its floppy ears.

What was her name again? Sarika... Saanvi... something Bengali or perhaps Pakistani? Levi wasn't sure they had ever spoken, but half recognized her from a couple of shared classes. Either way, her dark, hooded eyes were now fixated on him expectantly, or rather on his burly arm where it shifted below the scarred wooden desktop.

She was wearing burgundy lipstick and kept teasing at her bottom lip with a long fingernail as she stared coyly up at him.

"No, no..." Levi grumped, reluctantly releasing his misbehaving cock and trying to act casual. "I'm just trying to follow this shit show of a lecture."

"Oh. My. Gosh... Right?" Whispered a mousy brunette seated in the row directly in front of Levi. She spun in her seat to look back at him. "Miss Fanning is totally a hot mess today."

She looked young, only barely eighteen, and her casual apricot top was unbuttoned down to her navel, exposing an inordinate amount of her teal training bra and small budding breasts as though by happy happenstance. She leaned further forward when she caught his wandering gaze as though to give him a better view as she squinted back with a timid smile. For some reason, her tortoiseshell glasses were discarded on the desk behind her.

"It's fine, I guess." Levi hedged, dragging his eyes back to the front of the class where the teacher in question was bent over the glitching projector again. Slinky legs crossed in front of each other, butt stuck out invitingly, and her high-waisted skirt riding up to expose the lacy tops of her dark stockings. "I'm just feeling a little on edge."

What the hell was going on today?

Levi was feeling full of beans. Hot, horny jumping beans that made it challenging to sit still and keep a cool head. To make it worse, people kept giving him strange looks--female people in particular. Even Miss Fanning had done a double take when he entered the lecture hall, and her sea-green eyes followed him all the way to the back row.

"Aaaw... is there anything I can do to help, Levi?" A third voice asked, making him bolt upright in alarm when a soft hand came to rest on his forearm. "Anything at all?"

He recognized Brianna with a sigh of relief.

The cheeky curly-haired blonde had worked on a group assignment with him earlier in the year, though she couldn't have said more than a dozen words to Levi the entire time. So he was almost as surprised that she remembered his name as he was to find her crowding the seat to his right with her well-developed barely-legal figure filling out a tweed pinafore dress.

Where had she come from?

Levi was boxed in on three sides by a trio of nubile coeds with his back against the wall. The first two were glaring daggers at Brianna, who was running her dainty hand up and down his arm, stroking the muscles where they pressed against the light cotton of his shirt sleeve.

"No, really, I'm alright." Levi insisted in a hushed tone. He felt surrounded, and the girls kept shuffling closer, practically hanging out of their seats as they leaned toward him with strangely intense expressions. "I think... I think I need some air."

His pulse was well over a hundred, and Levi could smell something fragrant wafting off their young forms that made his throbbing cock uncoil in his trousers like a rearing cobra. He desperately needed some space to get a hold of himself before he suffered a crippling anxiety attack or blew a sticky nut down his straining pant leg.

At that point, it honestly felt like fifty-fifty odds for either outcome for the harassed young man. He lurched to his feet, knocking over the chair in his haste.

"Wait, please don't leave!"

"Levi, I was only trying to--"

"We're sorry! Please, come back..."

The girls called after Levi as he pushed past them and hurried for the door. The whole class was beginning to murmur. Even Miss Fanning stopped wagging her tail at him long enough to turn as he bustled past the red-headed teacher.

"Mister Millard, where are you going?" She asked in a small, worried voice. Her eyes were locked like tracking beams on the rude bulge in his slacks. He could smell her as well. "I hope I haven't offended--"

"You chased him off, slut!"

Snide accusations were evolving into a full-blown catfight somewhere at the rear of the classroom. Levi had to get away.

"Bathroom." He grunted in excuse before slamming the door closed behind him.

________________

Kimmy spied around the corner of the Athletics center as Millard stalked back and forth in the parking lot like some sort of caged animal.

He had exited his first class of the day rather abruptly, trailing chaos in his wake if the screeching shrill of angry feminine voices echoing out into the hall were any indication.

Still, nobody tried to stop or question the flustered freshman as he crashed like a charging rhino into one of the new unisex washrooms, scattering male and female students alike with an uncharacteristically deep bellow, demanding privacy.

They had all taken flight like a covey of frightened doves. Though, the men retreated far faster than the women, who kept looking back in hesitant indecision. Still, nobody raised a word of complaint.

How could she be the only person noticing this radical change in Mill-tard? Was everybody blind as well as stupid?

Kimmy had cracked the swinging door in time to hear what sounded like a phone call and a fleshy slapping noise coming from one of the locked stalls.

"...I know you do, Kitten, but will you please get Alina for me?"

There was a long pause and more slap-slapping.

"Urgh~! I'm sure your new collar looks great, and I promise that Master will make the pretty bell tinkle later on, but right now, I need you to get your Mistress--"

Another pause, shorter this time, accompanied by a rising growl and the constant meaty beat.

Kimmy's plucked brows shot up as she leaned further into the restroom. He couldn't be...

"Alina, thank all the gods! I need you, Love. I'm trying, but I can't do this on my own."

All sound suddenly ceased except the tiny squeaking of an indistinguishable voice coming through a phone receiver.

"Yes, good. I will see you soon. Hurry to me, my Lioness."

________________

Now Kimmy was grinding her teeth in impatience and watching as a silver Chrysler town car pulled into the college parking lot, stopping right alongside Levi, who was panting like a blown steed. His white Havana shirt was sticking to his muscular back and broad shoulders with sweat under the warm springtime sun.

An insanely curvaceous woman with olive skin and a voluminous black ponytail that fanned down to her tiny waist climbed out of the driver's seat and trotted around to the passenger side door. She was all jiggling tits, wide hips, and thick ass squeezed in a miniature chauffeur's uniform that was simply a pinstripe micro minidress painted onto her maximal hourglass figure. It looked like a slutty Halloween costume, which included a peaked cap and mirror-tinted aviator sunglasses to hide her attractive face.

...and was that a collar with a cat bell around her neck?

She stood to rigid attention and pulled smartly on the rear passenger door handle. Long silky legs spilled out of the opening door, a delicate hand sheathed in a white silk elbow glove reaching out to Millard, who took it in a gentle grip and pulled the owner up into his strong arms.