My work occasionally takes me into a certain mixed-use building downtown used as a hangout spot for college students. The ground level has a bookstore and several chain restaurants, and the upper floors contain classrooms and administrative offices for a local college. The basement of this building was leased by the city as a sort of record-keeping facility for old data that predates computer records.
Most people hate going into the office of any department of this city, but I don't mind this one at all. One reason is that I actually have a pretty good rapport with the notoriously unfriendly staff there. Another reason is that after my work is done, I usually grab a lunch upstairs while pretending to read a book, sitting amongst beautiful college girls, listening to their conversations about class and parties and boys.
I graduated college ten years ago, but I'd like to think that I still look and act relatively young, despite the bit of gray in my hair. I don't expect anybody to buy the fact that I am a student, but it is still nice to sit for an hour and appreciate the view.
The ratio of females to males must be around 2:1, and they all skew toward to the top of the attractiveness scale. I have a soft spot for mixed or lighter-skinned black girls, latinas, and Indian girls, and they are all who seem to enroll here. I should send the admissions office a gift basket.
Once I sat within earshot of two girls having a conversation over pizza. Both girls were attractive, but one was especially super-model hot. Had she lived in New York or LA, I'm sure Victoria's Secret would have started recruiting her before she was old enough to drive. Here was a tall, thin girl with an impossibly large chest for her frame, the long, tight spirals of her black hair perfectly teased. If I had to guess, I would say she had an Italian mother and an Ethiopian father, but what do I know? She was great.
Their topic of conversation moved from the fact that both girls were on their periods, to the fact that they both tend to get very horny while on their period. I put my fork down, suddenly wanting to savor the last two bites of my salad.
"It's like the one time I really want some dick, I can't do anything with it," said the should-be model.
"I know, but my guy doesn't mind this at all, because for like four days I'm just constantly sucking it," said her friend.
"I'm sure that would be me too, but I'm not with anybody right now I like enough to be doing that."
"So you won't, like, casually suck a dick?"
"No way. Nuh-uh. Even though I totally crave the taste of cum right now."
"Ewww. Haha you are so weird. You should either just suck a dick or kindly ask some dude to jack off on your pizza."
The girls left shortly after, presumably to go to class. Part of me wanted to follow to see where they went, but the rational part of me said to stay and not go anywhere until my erection subsided. It's not every day you overhear such a beautiful girl talk about wanting a mouthful of cum. I was fully hard for another ten minutes.
Later that day, with the image of that beautiful girl burned into my mind, I stroked to the fantasy of her gorgeous face inches from my cock, mouth open wide, tongue out, eagerly awaiting my load to satisfy her craving.
************************
I returned to the same building one month later for another research project. Until I walked into the revolving front door, I had forgotten all about the conversation I overheard the last time. But as soon as I smelled the familiar pizza-meets-thai smell of the various restaurants, the image of the tall brown goddess hit me, and a warm, pulsing feeling slowly spread throughout my body, most intensely in the private area. I made a mental note to stop wearing skinny jeans on days I would be going to this building.
Instead of going directly to work, I decided to take a quick lap around the tables of the eating area, hoping to catch my "Ethiopian queen," which is what I was calling her, knowing it was stupid to assume her ethnicity. She may have been Dominican, or Puerto Rican, or---I digress. She wasn't there. Nor was she in the bookstore. I saw plenty of gorgeous college girls, dressed for summer, seemingly in a contest to show the most leg or stomach or cleavage, but none as stunning as the girl I saw on my last visit.
I pressed the button for the elevator and waited a moment before the door opened, and a few people walked out. I got on with an older woman who pressed the button for the 12th floor. This elevator was going up! Embarrassed, but not willing to admit my mistake, I also pressed twelve then pretended to check something on my phone.
At twelve, she got out. This was the first time I had ever been in the upper floors of the building. Peeking my head out, I could see a very nondescript hallway with several doors on each side. On the wall opposite the elevator, there was a cork bulletin board with several event flyers pinned. If not for the school logo on a floormat outside the elevator door, I would not have known this was a college campus.
As the door was finally closing, I heard footsteps approaching from around the corner, and a slender brown hand just made it inside before it closed. The door flung open and from the ground up, unbelievably, I saw my girl.
Red Toms, long caramel legs, tiny black shorts, and a thin wild-patterned sweater perfectly hugging her chest, which was not as large as I remembered, but still almost cartoonish on a girl so skinny. Her eyes and much of her face were hidden behind black Ray-Bans, but I knew right away it was her.
I couldn't speak. Disoriented, my internal organs all seemed to have swapped places. I got out my phone again, looking at nothing.
She reached across me body to press the button for the ground floor. Her hair smelled a bit like coconut. I hate coconut, or shall I say I used to hate coconut. Now I wish to live off nothing but coconut.
I suddenly realized it was probably odd that I was in the elevator without having pressed any buttons. I wanted to press them all, just so we would be forced to stop at every floor so the ride would last seemingly forever. I could not even bring myself to look up at her, but just sharing the same oxygen with this girl was exciting enough.
As the elevator slowly moved down I regained some of my composure. I knew I had to ask her to grab coffee. Or had she had lunch yet? Or maybe I would just make up some class and ask if she was in it. No, that's dumb, she doesn't think I'm a student. Or does she?
Suddenly the overhead lights went out and the elevator jerked to a stop. After a second, a light came back on but much dimmer. The elevator remained motionless.
"This building is so fucked up!" the girl exclaimed.
"Is this a normal thing?" I asked.
"This is the second time it happened to me today. Third time this week. It'll go again in a few minutes."
