The Carrel

We're in Cornell's Olin library, a huge concrete breadbox of a building with 7 floors. It's about 9pm on a Sunday. Just enough people in the library to make things interesting. Taking the elevator to the 4th floor, we tumble out and look hastily around for any observers, our hands all over each other. You're wearing a skirt that goes to about mid-thigh, and my hand is up it, rubbing over your clit through your thin white panties. My other hand is cupping your breast through the fabric of your top, the nipple hard and erect under my fingers.

We kiss passionately, just as we did for the entire elevator ride after that freshman-looking guy got off on the second floor. We didn't even wait until the doors closed! I'm sure he could smell the sex brewing. "He's probably down there stroking himself right now," I laugh. You giggle and flick my earlobe playfully with your tongue.

Panting with quiet laughter, we scout down a couple of stacks on this floor. This floor seems deserted for now, but you never know... Coming together at the end of one of the shelves, we kiss again, my hands pulling the skirt up over your tight ass, and your hands groping the throbbing erection that's threatening to burst right through my zipper. The burnished brass of the elevator door is just visible at the other end of this long row of stacks. We bump up against a study carrel set against the wall here, which bears a sign: "This carrel reserved for private study by graduate students and faculty only." There'll be some private study here all right...

I twirl us around so your back is to the carrel, the edge of it up against the soft perkiness of your ass. Finally breaking the steaming kiss, I gently put my hands on your waist and lift you slightly so that you're sitting firmly on the edge of the carrel. I stare frankly into your eyes and sink to my knees. I can smell your arousal, fresh and wringing-wet as stepping off a plane in the tropics. You shudder in anticipation as I softly kiss your right inner thigh with moist lips, sliding my tongue in a wet trail upward, inhaling your scent as I work my hands under your panties and lift your bottom to slide them off. "Keep an eye on the elevator," I breathe into your skirt, before bringing my soft tongue to spread against your smooth-shaven pussy, burying the hood of your clit in warm softness. I press down and work my tongue back and forth ever so slightly. You jump as my tongue finds your clit, sensitive as can be, already throbbing from our heavy making out. I continue to cuddle your moist slit, eliciting an involuntary gasp every time my tongue finds your juicy bud. You're quickly losing the ability to pay much attention to the elevator at the end of the row.

You feel an orgasm beginning to build deep in your pelvis and you curl your fingers through my hair, pressing my face between your legs, arching your back and tilting your pelvis to press your pussy to my mouth. I thrust my tongue inside as deep as it will go, then work steadily back and forth across your inner labia. "Oooooh, God, that's it!" I'm living for your cunt now, thrilling to each shudder I feel in your thighs. Not far off. My clit play solidifies into a steady rhythm, hammering on the center of your pleasure. You let out a stifled cry as the waves of your orgasm finally crest and blow through your body. You throw your head back, gasping. At almost the same moment, the elevator at the other end of the row dings and grinds slowly open, revealing...

Nothing. It's empty. You let your breath out with a whoosh. Relief, fading orgasm, shortness of breath, and excitement at the sheer naughtiness of it all send waves of dizziness through you, making you slump backward against the built-in bookshelf of the carrel. I'm standing now, my arms around your ribs, keeping you from falling all the way backward, letting your head rest on one of my hands. We share another kiss, soft at first, then more urgent as you regain your senses and lust comes crashing back to the front of your mind. You stand up, slightly off the edge of the carrel and feverishly work my belt buckle and zipper, reaching in to grasp and pull out my throbbing cock, a drop of pre-cum already pearling at the tip. This time you spin us around, leaning me back against the carrel and taking the head of my member gently between your lips, savoring the tiny drop of pre-cum with the tip of your tongue, then sliding it slowly into your mouth up to the ridge of the glans. I gasp as you apply just a touch of suction. I can feel more pre-cum moving slowly up my cock and into your mouth with every pulse. Your hands wander up my abs, then my lower chest, and you open your mouth a bit more, look into my eyes, and take all but the last inch of me into your soft mouth.

Already halfway to orgasm from the smell and taste of your sex, I plead, "Take it easy, or I'll have nothing left!" Your eyes crinkle as you smile and shake your head slightly. "Mmf. Uh uh." You pull back with an audible pop and firmly stroke my glistening cock with your left hand. I groan as you lick along my shaft like a little girl with an ice cream cone, just as pleased with yourself now as you were then. Taking my entire length into your mouth again, you start a slow, leisurely rhythm, keeping a tight seal along my shaft, with plenty of saliva, using your hand to stroke what your mouth can't quite reach. I let out another groan, thrusting a little with my hips into your ready mouth. Your tempo increases, now using your mouth and both hands to massage every square inch of my cock and my slowly tightening balls. "God, it's like being hooked up to a milking machine!" I gasp, and feel my own orgasm building, the cum feels like it's boiling in my balls. "Aaaaaaaaaaaaggh" I cry, trying to muffle it and wondering if we're being overheard. My cum explodes from my cock inside your mouth, and you bob slowly up and down as you take it all, swallowing it as it comes. My head swims with ecstasy of release, floating gently on a tide of endorphins. Unexpectedly, you seal your mouth back around my cock and redouble your suction, snapping me back to hard-edged reality with a white bolt of nearly unbearable sensation, squeezing and sucking the last drops from my slightly softened cock. Then, you break contact with an audible pop, lick your wet lips, and smile at me. The only evidence of me having just come lies in the tiny drop of cum showing at the end of my spent prick and the big smile on your face. I swipe my forearm across the beads of sweat standing on my forehead, then shudder a bit and groan as you cuddle my cock head one last time in your mouth, delicately capturing the final drop of cum with the tip of your tongue. "Oh my God, that was amazing," I say with a small chuckle, slumping against the carrel. In spite of what we've just been through, the site of your mussed hair and lack of panties is quite inspiring, and I quickly feel myself rising once more to the occasion. We share another long, slow kiss, each tasting hints of the other's essence mingled with our own, with overtones of sweat and our still raging lust.

Your hand goes to my cock, once again almost fully erect. I rest my hand lightly on your hand as you stroke it firmly, quickly bringing it back to straining hardness. Then, wrapping both arms around your waist, I pick you up and quickly turn you around, positioning you once again with your ass on the edge of the carrel. I kiss you roughly, our tongues playing a fast game of tag, then I reach down to set my cock at the warm entrance to your soaking wet pussy, moving it up and down a bit to thoroughly lubricate its head in your wetness. My entry is effortless with your pussy primed by nearly a half hour of oral action.

As I slowly squeeze my cock into your incredibly tight, slippery pussy, my balls brush against the edge of the carrel and you lean back a bit, the better to bury my full length inside you. The feeling of warm fullness is exquisite. I lean forward to lock your lips in a passionate kiss, then begin purposefully moving in short, slow strokes, continuously pleasuring the full length of your pussy walls with my throbbing member. Inside you, I can feel the pre-cum leaking from the tip of my cock in a steady drizzle. I gaze at your closed eyes, feeling your deep, slightly gasping breaths brushing against my mouth and cheek. I keep one arm firmly planted on your lower back, supporting your weight and enhancing our bodies' connection, letting me feel and move with the natural rhythm you unconsciously set with your hips. It doesn't take long before our breaths are coming in short pleasure-filled gasps. Your arms wrap about my shoulders and neck and I scoot you down the carrel a bit to support your weight with my hands under your ass and pump you with more vigor. It quickly becomes clear that this is the angle that's going to do it, and I slowly increase my tempo, accompanied by a crescendo of moans, sighs, and little hiccups from you. Your arms clutch at my neck and shoulders leaving red impressions in my flesh, and my hands move your buttocks in time with my thrusts. With my tongue, I catch a bead of sweat running down the side of your cheek. Your eyes are closed, lost in the sensation. My thrusting reaches a furious plateau, my balls slapping your ass. Your second orgasm is longer and deeper than the first, surging and rattling inside your skull like the feet of the carrel on the tile floor, until it feels like your eyes will pop out of their sockets and the silken walls of your pussy will squeeze my cock into oblivion. Surprised by the sudden incredible tightness in your pussy, I redouble my thrusts, finally letting out a stifled cry and shooting my seed deep into the center of your womb.

Sweating and exhausted, I hold you in a kiss for several beats, then flop into the carrel's hard wooden study chair. Reclining languidly on the slightly damp desk of the carrel, you wipe a bead of sweat from between your breasts and ask idly, "Where did my panties end up?". I look over my shoulder and search briefly on the bare floor, while you examine the nearest set of bookshelves. "It's a good thing that elevator was empty," you observe.

I nod and chuckle, "Yep."

"So where are my panties?"

"Um...I don't know. I'm pretty sure I dropped them right here."

"Maybe they got kicked under the next carrel?"

I get up and search under the two carrels adjacent to this one. Nothing.

"Never mind, they were cheap ones. Some janitor will just have to wonder," you say with a wry grin, smoothing your skirt down, my cum seeping from your well-fucked slit.

Descending in the elevator, our arms around each other, the elevator stops once again at the 2nd floor and the same freshman kid gets back on. He quickly turns to face the front of the elevator, nervously avoiding meeting our eyes. The smell of sex permeates the air inside the small elevator car.

The elevator arrives at the ground floor, and the freshman fairly leaps out the door ahead of us. I smirk knowingly at his awkward bow-legged gait. He's trying to hide his obvious erection. As he quickly turns and hurries toward the library exit, I notice the left back pocket of his jeans has a big, irregular bulge in it. In fact, the bulge looks about the right size to be a wadded-up pair of white panties...