Hello group. This is my fourth story to ASS, and is, by far, the most "vanilla". It contains explicit m/f sex and language. If you're under 18 (21 in some cases) or if it is illegal to view or possess any erotic literature like this, stop now. If this might offend you, well, stop reading. This is a work of fiction by me, Katanya, copyright July, 1999. All rights reserved. You can store this in any archival state for personal use or for others to read, as long as this notice stays attached and as long as you make no money from it. Comments are always welcome. Thanks to Jae and S for their invaluable proofreading, general help and advice! --- DECISIONS By Katanya Two weather girls sat next to each other at a long wooden desk, each in a sharp spring suit and identical short blonde hair. Flip. A flash of white, a young, nubile woman in pseudo-futuristic leather garb, posturing and saying words to a heavy synth beat. Supposed to be music. Isn't. Flip. A grey-and-white Maury Amsterdam insults his wife. Flip. The latest on another country the U.S. decided to bomb. Flip. Now only $19.95. Flip. Coming up next. Flip. Flip. Fuckin' flip. A sharp ticking from the bathroom pried her eyes from the tv screen. Neither cat seemed to notice the noise. Once, that was a good sign, when her cats were more alert. Now they were overfed and lazy. They didn't care about any noise, and were unable to catch even their small dingleball toy. Since she couldn't count on the cats to act as barometers of danger, she decided to investigate herself. The noise was, unsurprisingly, a bug in the bathtub. Each time it tried to climb up the slick white walls, it would slide down, its tough black exoskeleton clicking on the bathtub floor. Once the spring rains had died down, bugs were everywhere, not that her cats noticed. She remembered her first cat, willing to climb walls to get those bugs, a real asset in a crappy college apartment. "New Fresh Mountain Scent Raid." Yeah, whatever. She started to spray the bug, not wanting to put on shoes to stomp the silly thing. Not quite a cockroach, she decided, nor a silverfish. That's good. The spray had little affect on the critter which steadfastly made its way up three inches of tub wall before sliding down again, up, slide, down, and up again. What the fuck ever, Lisa sighed. She sat the Raid in the bathroom closet, next to the hairspray, and figured she might as well use the room for what it was there for. Feeling saucy, she took all her clothes off before sitting on the toilet: first, her white sports bra, then her comfy old flannel shorts, then her undies. As she sat, she glanced at the closet shelves. Something wasn't right. Ah, that's it, she thought. The Raid looks like my hairspray bottle. Even has some weird-ass flower on it. I'd better move that before I make a mistake and my hair starts to kill bugs dead. A loud flip-click from the tub made Lisa jump. She'd been sitting on the toilet, not doing a damn thing, and couldn't see into the tub. Suddenly another quick flip sound, followed by the same loud snap; a small black dot hovered over the tub for a brief moment. It took her a few seconds, but soon she realized the dot in the tub was the bug, its muscles contorting so badly that each convulsion caused it to sail a good two feet into the air. Clicketytap flip! Flip-tap! Flip-tap! Lisa wondered if the thing was still alive. That's the weirdest goddamned thing I've ever seen, she decided without much enthusiasm. The crazier of the two cats waltzed in, saw the bug doing it's trampoline act, and ran towards it. A foot from the tub, the cat scrunched up its face, turned, and ran as fast as its fat ass could carry it; so much for the fresh new scent of a forest. Raid should be ashamed of itself. Standing, Lisa flushed the toilet and washed her hands out of habit, even though she hadn't actually gone. Drearily, she kicked her clothes from the bathroom floor into the bedroom. She left the door to the bathroom open, the death throes of the bug being the most amusing thing going on at the moment. A stack of paperbacks sat listlessly on the shelf. A badly-made bed -- with a suspiciously cat-shaped lump in the middle of it -- filled most of the room. Some crap furniture and nothing on the walls. A computer with the perpetual glowing bore of the Internet. A VCR and 127 movies, all seen at least once. Jesus H. Santa Claus, what a life, Lisa thought. It was summer, and for the first time in years, that meant mind-numbing boredom. No longer a college student, she couldn't spend days at a time in the university computer labs. Her friends had all moved away. Of her co-workers, the closest in age was seventeen full years older than her 25. No men around. It all added up to boredom. The new apartment was nice, a gift to herself for what she thought was brilliant maneuvering: instead of paying tuition to the university for a shit education, she was now working for the university, getting paid a whole hell of a lot for doing a whole hell of a lot of nothing. Her office job was easy, with a lot of time spent on a web browser and answering the phone, but she didn't work in the summer. The registrar's office stayed open, but with a skeleton crew during the summer vacation, and much of the money she'd earned during the school year was saved so she could have a three-month vacation. Now she wondered what for. Sure, she had this nice apartment, which she was still staring at because she didn't have anything else to do. But there wasn't anyone to spend the time with, except herself. Standing in the doorway of the bathroom, she caught a glimpse of her body in the full-length mirror. The fake wooden frame cut a line down the left side of her body, and the mirror reflected only the right two- thirds of her pale form. Wide hips, full, heavy breasts, brown hair, crinkle marks at her waistline where the flannel shorts had made an imprint. Lisa didn't think she looked hot, but she didn't think she looked so bad, either. She bit her lip and ran a fingertip around a pink nipple. How bored am I? she thought. I've jerked off twice today already. Once in the tub, maybe with that friendly acrobatic beetle thing watching. That killed the mood. Sighing, she sauntered into the living room. She had no money for furniture, at least not until she started working again in August, and the room looked it. Two worn desks, a cheap shelf, and a ratty couch lined the perimeter of the room. Her older computer with a missing graphcs card sat in the corner. She'd thought of getting on the Internet again, reading Usenet or answering e-mail, but what she really wanted to do was look at pictures, maybe some mpegs. With the graphics card missing, she couldn't do anything but text. Jake, a fellow design major, had given her his old computer when he upgraded to new. He asked only for visiting rights, but the last time he visited, he'd taken half the internal workings with him when he left. And he had found her stash of porno tapes, too. A brief e-mail had told her that he was planning on capturing jpegs of Jenna Jameson for a friend's new porn site. Lisa knew Jake's eyes had green dollar signs where the irises used to be. Her breasts rose and fell as she lay on the couch, staring at the computer. Yes, she decided, she was really in the mood for some dirty pics. She'd found some sweet gifs of guys the other day, men with huge cocks fucking each other, and downloaded them on disk. She'd played around with mpegs, managing to catch a glimpse of a very young man's greased member sliding slowly into anotherman's tight pink asshole. The fucker, as she called him, was biting his lip as he watched his rod disapear into the fuckee. His hands firmly grasped his lover's hips as he jerked in and out, at first concentrating heavily, then slowly losing himself to the moment. After only a few seconds, the camera had moved, focusing instead on the young man's face. For perhaps thirty seconds, Lisa watched the man gasp and grunt, eyes closed, clearly enjoying his work. Then black. Then the scene repeated, until Lisa clicked the window closed. She was standing before a large plastic shelf, the kind toy stores use to sit products on. Several pastel toys sat on the shelves and one caught her eye. It was a small blue rocket with a clear top, filled with chalky white candy. Turning to her friend, she noted his Halloween costume; he was suposed to be a large lipstick, she guessed, but in- stead looked like a big pink light sabre. "Hey," she said to him, "Doesn't this rocket look ... suggestive?" Lipstick Boy nodded and grinned. "So does your costume. You didn't do it right, and you look like a hot pink dildo with a metal hanle." A nibble on her big toe woke Lisa up. The more mild-mannered of the two cats had his tiny fangs chomped on her toe, presumably because her foot had interupted his sleep. She was still lying on the couch, one foot on the floor, one on the raised back. Stretching slowly, languidly, she drew her knees in, closing her legs back together. Sliding her shoulders to the right, she slid to the floor, covered in the blue light of the tv. She didn't know how long she'd slept, but Maury Amsterdam was still on. Glancing at the clock, Lisa corrected herself: Maury was on again; she'd dozed for over three hours. And what the hell kind of dream was that? Sitting up, Lisa knew she wasn't tired at all. Not anymore. Two in the morning on a Monday, no, a Tuesday. Deciding that the chance of being kicked out of the lab was worth it, she stood and went straight to her closet. The computer lab at the university recently issued a "students only" rule, but she was young enough that she'd pass for a student, and she still had her account. Finding some denim shorts and a green t-shirt, she quickly threw them on while searching for her old student ID. It was in the box with the bills. The picture still looked like her, Lisa noted happily. Grabbing her backpack, loaded with notebooks from two semesters ago, she headed out the door. The rough, cold cement of the sidewalk reminded her that she hadn't put on shoes. An old pair of fake Birkenstocks sat near the door; she slipped them on and headed for the car. Two in the morning on any night was a bad time to be out. The bars closed at two, so the roads were filled with drunken drivers, pedestrians, crazy cabbies, and lots of cops. None bothered her today, though, and she made it to the parking lot without incident. As she parked, the blue and red light of a cop car caught her eye. Half a dozen students were standing at the front door of Morris Hall, and two police cars blocked the drive. Walking towards the building, she saw someone sitting on the bike rack just to the east of the large double doors. "What's going on?" Lisa asked the man. "Some drunk guys threw up all over the floor, and somebody else got mad and kicked their ass." "Dammit! I wanted to use the lab tonight." "No use. One guy's hurt bad, they just took him off to the hospital. Fuckin' sucks. The puke'll probably be there until Monday. We'll have to go to Cedars Hall." "We?" "Uh, yeah, me and Tim and Ken. We were playin' nettrek." Lisa giggled. "I had no idea people still played that." The man didn't say anything. Lisa grimaced. "Sorry," she said. "I didn't men anything. Hell, I used to mud all the time in school, I've got no room to talk." The man nodded. The blinking red and blue twinkled across his glasses. In the half-light, Lisa could make out a thin, button-down shirt, probably polyester, off-white with some tiny red and blue stripes. It was buttoned almost to the top, and the sleeves were fastened at his wrists. A dark belt cinched his clean, pressed jeans to his waist. Short hair was parted down the side and neatly combed. Lisa's memory kicked in. She remembered back five years to when she first came to school. Her small-town high school experience had been dull, and her so-called smarts had kept her from ever being asked on a date by any boys at her own school. But when she was at other schools for field trips and conferences, guys seemed to like her, and she often found herself making out in another school's bus in the parking lot. By the time she was eighteen and in college, she was ready to find not just one man, but several. Hooking up with some girls in her intro to computers class, she found herself on the computer lab several nights a week. When she didn't have comp homework, she brought her level one art homework with her. Often, she and her friends Melissa and Sammy were the only girls in a crowded lab. After a couple of weeks of this, they hit upon an idea. "I'm desperate to get laid," Sammy had said. "I'm tired of fucking Michelle." The girls giggled. Sammy had named her small purple vibrator "Michelle," just to piss off a snotty dorm neighbor with the same name. "Let's fuck some guys in the lab." Everyone roared. "No, I mean it," Sammy had continued when the laughter died. "I don't mean *in* the lab, but from the lab. There's nothing wrong with their cocks, is there?" So the girls picked a night, dressed in the least amount of clothing they could get away with, and sauntered into a lab about one a.m. Peeking into the lab with the Sparcs, they saw several guys looking at porn. "Just think," Melissa had said, winking, "There's at least five hard, horny men in there. We'll be the answer to their prayers." Lisa looked down at the guy sitting on the bicycle rack. He was dressed just like the boy she'd met that night five years earlier, what was his name? His shoulders were broad and he was so nervous he'd come on her stomach before he could get his dick inside her. "Huh?" "Oh, sorry," Lisa said. "I, uh, was thinking about something. Did I talk out loud?" "Yeah, you said `Paul.'" Lisa's face reddened. "Ok, you caught me, I was thinkng about someone, not something. A guy I knew, a long time ago. We met here." The man nodded again, turning his head toward the huge metal double doors of Morris Hall. Two cops were dragging out a student clad only in boxers. The faint yellow glow of a distant street lamp outlined the half-conscious boy being taken to jail. The cops leaned him face-first against the cop car; Lisa swore she saw the boy's half-erect penis poking out of his shorts. She squinted her eyes, knowing that her eyes and her horny mind were fooling her. A few seconds later, a cop opened a car door and threw the student into the back before driving off. The second cop car followed. Lisa noticed the group of students had left, too. "Did you see that?" asked the man. Lisa nodded. Of course, I was just looking at them take the guy away, why wouldn't I have seen it? she thought. "Huh. His dick, hangin' right ot of his pants. Must have been doing something else in there." Lisa blushed again. "I, uh, yeah I saw it." "I left some stuff in Morris. Give me a second and let me go get it? I'll walk you to Cedars Hall lab, if you're still going. You probably shouldn't walk out here by yourself." Lisa agreed and waited, holding one door open as the guy retrieved his stuff. The floor was covered in new faux marble tile, and in the distance Lisa thought she saw a large brown puddle. Maybe it's my imagination, maybe not, she thought. She looked away just in case. "I'm Greg," the man said as he stepped through the door, into the dark outside. Lisa moved aside, the door closing behind her with a loud clunk. "Sorry about what I said earlier, that was rude." "No, it's ok," said Lisa as she followed Greg down an unlit bike path. "Not like I haven't seen it before." Greg nodded. In the moonlight Lisa noticed his large body moved quickly. He was at least six feet tall and probably well over 200 pounds, some muscle, some flab. He was quick and coordinated, but not very graceful; he stumbled a bit as he hopped over the metal sewer gratings. The slightly hunched back was topped by a pair of broad shoulders, easily his finest asset. His ass was quite flat and he had almost no hips to speak of. "You coming?" Greg asked as he glanced behind him. Lisa hoped he didn't catch her looking at his ass. "I remember once in the lab," Greg continued, "we were all in there late at night, looking at, uh, some pics. This older guy, some professional student, looked around, grinned, and whipped it out. Right there in the lab. Watched some porn pic slide show as he wacked off into a Kleenex." "What did you do?" Lisa tried to steady her voice, but her horniness was almost insurmountable, and Greg's tale was turning her on. First the dream, then meeting Greg, then seeing that naked student -- it was almost too much for her. "I dunno, we tried to be cool, you know, not saying anything. I think some guys were turned on, some were embarassed..." Greg trailed off. "Which were you?" He paused for a second, then stopped and turned around. He grinned. "Don't you think I should know your name first, before I tell you something like that?" "Oh, sorry! It's Lisa." Greg nodded and resumed walking. "Well, Lisa, I guess I was a little bit of both." They walked in silence, ignoring a rustling or two from some bushes on the side of the road. Birds chirped, as they did throughout the summer nights. "Hey, speaking of the lab, where are your friends you were nettrekking with?" "Oh, Tim and Ken? They're still on the server." Lisa looked confused. "They're somewhere else. I think Ken's at Duke U. It's a network game." "Oh!" Lisa said as they approached the big beige cement sign that read, "CEDARS HALL." They walked through some overgrown stairs to a basement door. Dodging crickets and spiderwebs, the pair made their way through two old doors and into a dirty hallway. A slight incline covered in thin carpet led to an ancient storage room, converted sometime in the last decade to a computer lab. The terminals were all quite old, mostly green wyse terminals, state of the art twelve years earlier. Inexplicably, they were still plugged in, ready for anyone who came in. "Wow, is this the lab? It's like a time warp." Greg nodded. "Follow me, there's some Sparcs in another room through here." Lisa scurried after Greg, who was already headed for another long, dirty hallway. It was like a maze, with one sharp turn after another, as they passed door after door. It got darker and dirtier as they continued, until finally they arrived at a newer-looking thick wooden door. Greg rapped on the door quietly, then turned the shiny metal door lever. Peeking in, he glanced around. "Come on in, it's empty." The room was amazing. About the size of a small apartment, there was fresh paint on the walls; Lisa guessed the shade to be antique white. A large table sat in the north corner, with two pristine Sparc stations and two comfortable looking chairs. About ten feet behind that was a room divider. Lisa walked past the divider and was shocked to see about twenty new classroom desks, the kind with a little wooden tabletop attached to the right arm of the chair. A large write on-wipe off board covered almost all of the eastern wall. "Is this a classroom?" she asked. "No, it's the computer department training room. A friend I know keeps it unlocked for me." "Why didn't you come here earlier, then? I'd never leave this room. It's all so new." Lisa began to imagine all the stuff she could do on the Sparcs with no one around: look at some pictures, read some stories, maybe even lock the door and jerk off like that guy Greg talked about, except she wouldn't need any Kleenex. Greg didn't answer at first. Lisa had a look in her eye, a gleam, and in the bright light of the room he was finally getting a serious look at her. Her green t-shirt hung loosely over her body, but her large breasts jutted against the fabric. The air conditioning was cranked, and her nipples had stiffened in response. She wasn't wearing a bra, he guessed, and by the glimpse of her round thighs when she bent to brush some gravel from her sandals, she wasn't wearing any panties, either. And there was that twinkle in her eyes as she once again thought about something she didn't speak of, but which Greg guessed was very, very naughty. He sat his backpack down next to a Sparc. "Penny for your thoughts," he said, barely above a whisper. "Oh!" Lisa was startled. "I was just thinking about how nice this room is, but how cold I am." Greg turned away to avoid looking at her breasts again. The cold was making Lisa shiver. The thermostat read 60 degrees, the lowest setting the air conditioning would go, but a thick plastic case covered the thermostat and she couln't unlock it to adjust the temperature. Deciding to take her mind off the cold, she walked to one of the Sparcs. In the black sreen of the monitor, she saw her reflection. No wonder he didn't say anything about the cold, she realized, as she looked at her tits. She figured that the cold was only part of the reason that her nipples wer so hard. The lab was vacant, the door locked, and Greg had already talked to her about sex; she decided to take a chance. "Greg, I'll be honest with you. I was bored to death at home tonight and decided to come here and check out some binary groups for some dirty pictures. I know what you said about them earlier, so if this bothers you, let me know. I guess I don't believe in lying to strange men after midnight," Lisa giggled. "It doesn't bother me." Greg hardly looked at her. Lisa's eyes narrowed. This might be a challenge, she thought, but I'll be damned if I end a night like this one alone. The narrow chairs were indeed comfortable, and Lisa logged into a Sparc. The unix system, usually bogged down by thousands of students doing homework, was mercifully quick. In no time she was on the binaries groups, downloading as many pictures as memory would allow. She called up xv and started to look through them. Greg had been trying to relog onto the nettrek server, but was distracted. Lisa was making sure of that. She sat close to him at the table, and shamelessly oohed and aaahed at the pictures as she viewed them. "Look at this one, Greg," she said, pointing to the screen. A large blonde lay on her back, legs leaning up against a pure white wall. Her big, luscious tits were covered by a scarlet red bra, lacy enough to reveal her nipples. A matching red lace garter adorned her waist, and the elastic straps held up some shiny red hose. She was practically upside down with her legs were spread, her shaved pussy exposed just slightly. Visibly turned on, Lisa leaned in closer to Greg. Greg glanced, nodded, and went back to his game. When he couldn't concentrate enough to call up nettrek, he opened his e-mail and started reading. "I'm sorry, Greg, I'm not trying to bother you." Lisa was embarassed, partly from rejection. She was bored, horny, and was using the night and the solitude as a excuse to do things that were bordering on harassment. She saved the picture she'd just seen and closed the window. Greg was pale, or paler than she'd seen him earlier. He was nervous, thought Lisa, and to him, I probably seem like a black widow lying in a corner, waiting to strike some innocent insect just flying by. "Greg? I'm sorry Greg. I'll leave." Lisa zipped up her backpack and started to log out. She'd opened so many windows she didn't know which one would log her out of the Sparc, so she just started closing each window, one by one, hoping it wouldn't take long. She was embarassed and wanted out of there, and soon. As soon as the login screen appeared, Lisa stood. Greg hadn't even bothered to look at her or say goodbye. Was he that mad, Lisa wondered. Or nervous? She swung her backpack off the table and headed for the door. The handle clicked under her hand as she started to turn it. But she couldn't leave. In her mind was the image of that young man from five years ago, embarassed and miserable; she hadn't even tried to be understanding, she just thought he'd left her hanging, and in her selfishness she had been cruel. The images of the other boys flittered through her mind: the married grad student whose wife left him later that semester, the two naive freshmen that she had taken on at once, the blonde math major she practically demanded sleep with her. Maybe she'd been wrong, she decided. She wasn't sure. Here she was, same situation, new guy, and an older and maybe wiser self. It was more than just lust, Lisa realized, but she didn't know what. Why should I care about this guy at all? I hardly know him. Whatever the reason, I do, and he might be nervous, or scared, or maybe he's gay or just doesn't like me, but I'm going to find out, she decided. I didn't let a little hesitation stop me with anyone else. Lisa swung around on her heels. "Greg, I know I was rotten earlier. I acted like a stupid little girl. I already said I was sorry and I still am. But we both know how I feel. And I want to know how you feel... Oh, Christ..." Lisa groaned. This was not going well. She couldn't find the words to say it without sounding cheesy and lame. Frustration turned her face red. Greg glanced up at Lisa. He saw her frustration and thought it was honesty. The sincerity in her eyes made him feel somewhat at ease. He'd seen girls come into the labs before, feign interest in guys until, with a quick slap to their "nerd" egos, the girls would run off, snickering, ready to tell their friends how funny the geek's faces looked when they dropped the bomb. There were the compusluts, too, the groupies who hung around in the labs and slept with everyone. They thought nerds were "safe" and "easy". He'd lost his virginity to a particularly ravenous compuslut; it was the only time he'd fucked a girl, and he'd spent the night in her company, plus the company of two of his closest friends, a girl he didn't recognize, and a large assortment of battery-operated toys. He'd never decided which was more humiliating, the rejection from the teasers, or losing his virginity to a compuslut in front of an audience. He had decided that he didn't want the same thing to happen again. Lisa didn't seem quite like those girls, which is why he felt relieved. And, dammit, there were those breasts, the full hips, the soft, smooth thighs... Lisa saw his eyes drop and scan her body. She reached back and re-locked the door without hesitation, embarassment gone; she'd hooked her man. Greg might have known in the back of his mind that she would have fucked any guy she met up with that night, but he couldn't have brought himself to care. His cock had stiffened in his pants and he shifted uncomfortably. This time, he promised himself, this time it will be better. With her sandals and backpack tossed aside on the floor, Lisa slowly stepped towards Greg. He'd turned in his chair and was sitting sideways, with his left arm resting on the straight wooden back. His eyes were locked on her body; he hadn't spoken a single word for over an hour. Lisa leaned over and touched Greg's cheeks with her hands. Carefully she lifted off his glasses. Behind the glare of the lenses she discovered two deep brown eyes. His lips were fuller than she'd noticed before, and she placed her own lips on his. Sighing softly, Lisa's eyes closed as she held Greg's head in her hands, kissing him with a firm, wet mouth. As her tongue began to flick over his lips, she felt his hands on her waist. They were hot and rough. Her mouth parted as she licked his lips more vigorously, running her tongue lightly around his lips, then between, trying to part them. Greg's mouth opened and Lisa was there, tongue darting over his, mouth pressed tightly against him. Her body moved in closer. Her legs stradled his lap. Lust gave Greg confidence, and he slipped his hands up under her shirt. Her back was soft, solid, and warm. Lisa made muffled little noises as Greg's rough hands grabbed the bottom of her t-shirt and lifted it over her head; goosebumps covered Lisa's shouldes, arms, and breasts. Greg cupped her breasts in his hands. The warmth of his palms sent a charge through her body. Leaning forward, Greg softly kissed her tits as he fumbled with the button of her shorts. Lisa's nimble fingers had unbuttoned Greg's shirt to the waist, pulling the shirt out of his jeans to finish the job. Until she began to unhook the cuffs, Greg hadn't noticed she was undressing him; her body was so soft and round and inviting that he'd lost his ability to concentrate. Lisa had to wrestle with the sleeves of his shirt to get it off his arms, and it didn't help that he'd been so busy trying to get her shorts undone that he didn't cooperate. Standing, Lisa unbuttoned her denim shorts as she walked to the light switch. Greg's eyes were glued to the image of her breasts, bouncing with each step, soft pink nipples the size of quarters. Lisa switched off the lights. The glow of the Sparcs and the red exit sign above the door was more than enough to see by, and it was less harsh on the eyes. She unzipped her shorts and dropped them to the floor. Greg's cock hardened more, surprising to him, since he thought he'd been fully erect from the moment he first saw her nipples harden under her shirt. Her body glimmered in the light. There was a lovely sway to her hips as she approached and stood before him. Her head rolled back and her eyes closed as he ran his hands across her body. Grabbing his shirt from behind him, she tossed it on the floor with her own clothes. "Stand up," she whispered. When he rose from the chair, he took off his white undershirt and threw it on the pile. It was Lisa's turn to try and undo the metal button of his jeans, and to Greg's amusement, she had just as much trouble as he'd had a moment before. She let him unbutton his jeans himself as she concentrated on his broad shoulders and firm chest. He had dark, hard nipples, something she loved on a man. Her tongue timidly licked at one as her finger traced the outline of the other. Greg's heavy breathing turned shaky. He was nervous; it reminded her of Paul. As she nibbled at his chest, her hands travelled back down to the waist of his jeans. Greg had undone the button already, so Lisa grabbed the zipper and drew it down quickly. Sliding her hands inside his jeans, she felt his hardness beneath the cotton undies. Greg wiggled slightly and his jeans fell to the floor. Lisa's hand pressed against the front of Greg's crotch. Her forefinger felt a bit of wetness on the fabric where drops of precum had already formed. Greg had stood, weak in the knees and barely able to move for several minutes, and when Lisa's fingers hooked into the elastic waistband of his underwear, he felt about ready to pass out. The undies fell about his feet and rested atop his jeans. Greg kicked them into the pile. His cock was smooth and hard. It juted in front of him impressively, twitching slightly when Lisa's hand ran gently across it. She cupped his balls with one hand as the other gripped the base of his prick, and she thought briefly of going down on him. Glancing up, she saw Greg weaving slightly, eyes tightly closed. His hands on her shoulders steadied him, but she knew he shouldn't stay standing long. She grabbed his hand and led him back a few steps to the pile of clothes. Still holding his hand, she lay down, using the clothes as a bed to protect them from the hard, cold floor. Greg knelt between her legs. Greg had been nervous, taking things slowly at first. But now with Lisa laying before him, so soft and sexy, his courage was back with renewed vigor. He practically pounced onto her, pressing his full weight down onto her body. Lisa gasped. Greg leaned down and kissed Lisa's neck while stroking her breasts, finding a hard little nipple and pinching it gently between his fingers. Her body squirmed under him and her fingernails dug into his back. The tiny thrusting motions in her hips were driving Greg crazy. Greg raised up on his knees and spread her legs further apart. Her swollen red labia distended from a soft triangle of brown air, thick but short. His fingers tickled at her lips, finding her wet. Lisa's eyes shot open as Greg's index finger slid inside her. He withdrew his finger and this time slid in two, barely grazing her clitoris. It was enough to send spasms through Lisa's body; her back arched and her pussy clenched delicately around Greg's fingers. Lisa's breathing was deep and heavy. Greg slowly withdrew his fingers from her slit and held his heavy cock in his other hand. Parting her pussy lips, he guided the tip of his prick into her, pushing in just a bit. As he knelt in front of her, he saw his cockhead disappear inside her. Unwilling to wait, Greg leaned over her again, propping himself up on his hands, and thrust himself fiercely against her. Instinctively, Lisa's legs spread wider. Her body rose when he entered her, pressing her breasts sharply against his chest. Gutteral cries escaped her as Greg relentlessly thrust himself into her and then quickly slid out again, over and over, grunting with each stroke. Lisa clawed at Greg's back. Her own wetness ran off Greg's cock and down her thighs. She bucked and squirmed under him, his pace quickening as she felt the hot, wet tingle of orgasm beginning. In the back of Greg's mind, he was trying to control himself, slow himself down and enjoy the feel of her body, but his lust overpowered him. He didn't notice Lisa's low moans or the pulsing of her pussy muscles as she came. Her hips bucked harder under him as her orgasm rippled through her body. Greg lost any control he might have had as he felt her soft body writhe under him in pleasure. His abdomen knotted and his face contorted as the familiar feeling of inevitability took him over. His cock swelled larger for a brief second before he came, his orgasm ringing in his ears. His seed shot deep inside her with each stroke; she felt the heat of his cum fill her completely. Greg's face dripped with sweat. He almost collapsed on top of Lisa and nestled his face in her neck, occasionally kissing her or nibbling her ear. Lisa lay beneath him, satisfied but convinced that the night was not over, at least not for her. The buttons from Greg's discarded shirt pressed into her back and made her wiggle in discomfort. Greg lifted himself onto his elbows and slowly withdrew his waning erection from Lisa's warm body. Lisa's fingers lightly caressed his chest, fluttered down his stomach and softly tickled his abdomen. "Floor's cold," Greg said. He rummaged through the bed of clothes and found his undershirt, smoothed it out, and sat on it. Lisa sat up and scooted next to Greg. "Come home with me," she said quietly. A lone finger absently twisted a few strands of her hair as she leaned into Greg. He smelled sweaty and salty. She lay her head on his shoulder, face buried in his neck; she stop twiddling with her hair and started caressing Greg's skin instead. Logic and doubt crept into Greg's mind. Earlier he'd determined that Lisa wasn't one of the compusluts he so feared, but now, he wasn't sure. He couldn't decide. He also couldn't forget her body, willing and desireable. And the touch of her fingers as they ran across his body. The sweet scent of her hair floated about him as he thought of the hurt he'd endured before. Her finger had trailed down his chest, circled his navel, and was continuing its journey downward. Her tongue ran around Greg's ear. Cold, thought Greg. I'm cold. I'm practically shaking. He opened his eyes and saw her, the red exit sign glow radiating off her skin like electric fire. He watched, motionless, as she knelt in front of him. One leg tossed over his as she scooted closer, then the other, and she was on his lap again. He felt her warm breath, warm body, the warmth between her legs. Greg closed his eyes again, and nodded. He knew he had decided.