Alaina

You pretend to think for a second, as if you're parsing out all the reasons that one person or the other should be the one to sacrifice your clothes. Of course, you and Alaina both know what you're going to say. Really you're just keeping her in suspense.

You glance around the office for a second before your eyes settle on her. "Well," you say. "Since you're the one that suggested this office, and since you beat me and Marlena at beer pong, I think you should be the one to have to use your clothes to cover the fire detector."

Alaina puts a hand on her chin in mock consideration. "Yes," she says, professorially. "Yes, that does make sense. I can see your logic there." She puts her hands on her hips and cocks one of her pretty brown eyebrows. "Of course, I'm only wearing this dress. Which I'll need your help to get off."

"I think I can do that," you say.

She turns around, her back facing you. One of the first things anyone notices about Alaina is the amazing shape she's in. She goes to the gym five days a week and does cardio for a half hour every time she works out. Not only that, but she eats well and lives clean (aside from the drinking and smoking weed), in a complete reversal of what college students are 'supposed' to be like.

All this together means that you're very eager to put your hands on her. They're trembling as you grab the tag on her zipper and slide it down. You get to see the pale skin on her gorgeous back, as well as her plain black bra. The band of her black panties are exposed, too, as you finally reach the bottom of her zipper.

"Thank you," she says over her shoulder, nearly under her breath. She steps out of the dress, but keeps her wedge heels on. "You're going to need to be the one to cover the alarm," she says, pressing the dress into your hands.

It's a little strange holding her dress, considering it was tight against her body only seconds ago, but you don't dwell on it. It's even stranger trying to fashion a cover for the smoke detector. You have to climb on top of Dr. Porter's desk, but you manage to tuck the dress into the alarm in such a way that it should keep the detector sealed off from the smoke of the weed. Besides, the detectors, like this building itself, are ancient and probably don't work anyway.

You step down from the desk and come face to face with the half-naked woman waiting for you. She's got the joint and the lighter in her hands, as well as a teasing smile on her face. "Well," she says. "Let's get started."