Page 68 of Vile Bastards
But oh my God, it feels so good. He’s so deep, and he’s stimulating every part of my vulva with his hand, not just my clit, squeezing and kneading it the way he did to my tits. Even though he’s not touching them, the fact that they’re out and being squished into the edge of a metal shelf, nipples hard in the cool air of the library, it’s torturous pleasure.
I lift my right hand up so that I can play with my own nipple, and my body reacts instantly, tightening so hard around Widow’s dick that he can’t move in or out. A groan escapes him, and then he’s slamming in hard and fast until his body seizes up behind me, and I know that he’s coming.
He pulls out suddenly, and then I feel the hot, wet release of him against my bare ass, dripping down to my thighs. Ropes of white cum hitting the loose, hanging scraps of my sheer top, spattering my long hair.
It’s all over me.
I’m in the middle of the library.
I’m aching and pulsing and wanting a release so bad that I could scream. I turn around, panting and shaking, and I just stare at Widow. He’s already doing up his jeans, looking me over from head to toe before finally meeting my gaze.
“Finish me,” I demand, and he offers up a tight, angry press of lips.
“No.”
I pause.
“No?” The question is almost half-scream. “What do you mean no?”
“I mean no.” Widow turns to leave, and I grab onto the back of his hoodie, stopping him in his tracks.
“How am I supposed to get out of here in this state?” I murmur, but he just keeps walking, and I have no choice but to let him go lest he drag me out of the shadowy aisle and into the bright lights of the walkway. He pauses there to glance over his shoulder.
“Don’t ask for something and then be angry with the result.” He tosses that out with casual insouciance, and then swaggers his way toward the door. I have a brief moment of panic there before I realize I should just get my phone out and text for backup.
Bring me a fresh set of gym clothes. Now.
I text Basti because I don’t want to see Nisha’s reaction to this, and then I lean my back up against the shelf, put my fingers to my clit and work out a quick, angry orgasm that does absolutely nothing to satisfy me.
Actually, all it does is piss me off even further.
Bastian shows up just after I’ve yanked my cum-stained pants into place and put my tits back into my bra. The shirt is ruined; the buttons are everywhere.
“Girl, what the fuck? Qué pasó?” He tosses over the bundle of clothes and then just stares at me as I change into them. I don’t care if he looks. I made him wax me, remember? He’s seen it all. Bastian’s never once made me uncomfortable, and I’ve never had any of my girls complain to me either (they would if he bothered them in the slightest), but he sure is a nosy little shit.
“A little privacy?” I snap at him, but he ignores me, and I finish changing anyway, tucking the cum-clothes under my right arm. Great. Typical Prescott walk of shame stuff. If you see a girl or guy waltzing around campus in any full or partial combination of gym attire, you know they’ve just fucked, been fucked, or masturbated in the boy’s bathroom and ruined their own t-shirt.
I go to move around Bastian, and he extends his arms to either side, blocking me in. I debate using my knife on him (remember: I can make a eunuch in less than a minute), but I take pity on him because he lost Lemon, and they were closer than she and I were, at least in the end there.
“Who?” he asks, and I sigh.
“Widow.”
Basti chuckles and drops his arms, but I elbow him hard in the side anyway.
“He’s good for you!” he calls out to me, still snorting. Would he still think that if he knew what just occurred between us? Maybe. Probably. I’ll do the same or worse to Widow later, so I’m not concerned.
But also, what an asshole.
I pause and hustle back to the aisle as Bastian offers up a raised brow in question. I very quickly find the spine with my teeth marks in it, grin, and then shove it back into place before grabbing Widow’s jacket. Likely, that book will remain here in this library until the school is demolished to build new condos or something. It’s a historical landmark of a kind, and I’m proud to have left it.
“You’re so weird,” Basti murmurs, following me out of the aisle. I wave a loose hand in Fred’s direction, and he scurries off like a bunny rabbit. I offer my librarian girls a little wave as I pass by to let them know that I’ll be back.
