Back to Work

The sunlight streaming through the dorm blinds was the first thing to greet you that morning, warm and insistent on pulling you from the depths of sleep. Groaning softly, you stretched beneath the sheets, the soft, feminine curves of your body pressing against the fabric.

You tossed the blanket aside, rising to sit on the edge of your bed, still dressed in last night’s lingerie set—simple black lace that felt both frustratingly feminine and irritatingly comfortable. You came home too late last night to change entirely into something else, and the lingerie helped get you off last night with your dildo. It took a moment to gather yourself, but soon you remembered—you had lectures today. No dramatic trials, no high-stakes events, just the predictable monotony of a university schedule.

You swung your legs over the edge of the bed and glanced across the room. Liam was still dead to the world, sprawled on his bed, snoring faintly. He must’ve gotten in late last night, but whatever he’d been up to wasn’t your concern right now.

Yawning, you made your way to the bathroom and flicked on the light. The mirror reflected your sleepy face, and you noticed the faint smudge of last night’s mascara under your eyes. You grabbed your toothbrush, squeezing toothpaste onto it before brushing with rhythmic precision.

As you brushed, your thoughts drifted to the previous night. The Pinnacle Forum had gone better than you expected. Meeting Damian Kane for the first time had felt like a major step forward. Sure, you didn’t exactly leave him entranced, but you’d broken the ice. And then there was Richard Solano.

Your cheeks heated slightly at the memory. The part where you’d blown him was thankfully blurry—it seemed like the influence of the Forget-Me-Mint faded before the night was over. But you could still clearly remember the heated kiss you’d shared afterward, his cum intermingling in your kiss last night. It was filthy, degrading… and kind of hot. You shook your head, dismissing the thought as you rinsed your mouth.

You turned on the shower, letting the water heat up before stepping inside. The warm spray hit your skin, and you sighed in relief. Grabbing your body wash, you lathered up, your hands gliding over the curves you’d grown used to over the past months.

Your breasts, now a full C-cup, sat high and firm, and your waist dipped into a smooth shape. Your hips flared slightly, leading to a round, perky ass that you had begrudgingly admitted wasn’t awful to look at. As you soaped up, your hands lingered for a moment, almost appreciating the softness and the way your body felt under your touch. It wasn’t so bad. Not anymore.

After rinsing off, you grabbed a towel, wrapping it around yourself as you padded back into your room. Liam was still fast asleep, which was a relief. You didn’t feel like dealing with any awkward conversations this morning.

You turned to your wardrobe, determined to get ready for your day of lectures. As you sifted through your options, your hand paused on a soft lavender blouse. It was a looser fit but it looked comfortable. Pairing it with high-waisted tailored trousers in charcoal gray, you felt it struck the perfect balance of feminine and practical. Underneath, you chose a black lace bra and panties set—practical, but undeniably pretty. For shoes, you grabbed your nude pointed-toe flats, thinking they’d keep the outfit clean yet comfortable.

Fully dressed, you grabbed your bag and prepared to head to the kitchen, but something tugged you toward the bathroom instead. You paused in front of the mirror, staring at your reflection. For some reason, it didn’t feel quite… complete.

Your hand moved to the cabinet almost on autopilot, grabbing a small makeup bag you had stashed. You weren’t sure why, but you felt like adding a touch of something. You dabbed on some concealer to smooth out your complexion, added a light dusting of blush for warmth, and added a bit of mascara, brushing it through your lashes until they looked longer and darker. Finally, you swiped on a sheer pink gloss, just enough to catch the light.

Stepping back, you admired your handiwork. The makeup was subtle, just enough to enhance your features without looking overdone. You smiled at your reflection, pleased with the result.

Shouldering your bag, you stepped out of the dorm with a lightness you hadn’t felt in a while. The crisp morning air hit your face, and you smiled slightly as you headed to your first lecture.

The morning air was crisp, the sun warm on your face as you made your way across campus toward the lecture hall. You felt unusually light today, like a weight had lifted, though you couldn’t place exactly why. Maybe it was the makeup—just a hint, but enough to make you feel polished. Or maybe it was the way your lavender blouse flowed as you walked, brushing softly against your skin. Whatever it was, it felt… nice.

As you strolled past clusters of students, your eyes wandered, taking in the bustling energy of the campus. You spotted a group of girls walking ahead of you, laughing and chatting, their outfits effortlessly chic. One had the kind of glossy brown hair that practically shimmered in the sunlight, paired with a smile that lit up her entire face. You couldn’t help but admire her confidence and beauty.

Your gaze shifted, landing on a pair of guys leaning against a bench. One of them laughed at something the other said, his white teeth flashing against his warm, tan complexion. His fitted sweater hugged his broad shoulders just right, and the way his jeans hung on his hips... You found yourself smiling faintly before looking away, your thoughts moving on as naturally as they had come.

Arriving at the lecture hall, you chose a seat near the back, a spot that gave you a bit of privacy but still let you see everything. You pulled out your iPad, setting it on the desk as the hall gradually filled with students.

After a few minutes, you noticed movement to your left. A guy slid into a seat three chairs down from you. He was tall, with sandy blond hair that looked like it’d been effortlessly tousled, and sharp blue eyes that seemed to scan the room casually. His jawline was strong, and his fitted black hoodie stretched slightly over his chest. He glanced your way briefly, offering a polite smile before turning back to his notebook.

The professor walked in and began setting up for the lecture, his voice carrying across the room. “Before we begin, I want to let you know that your grades for Assignment 3 have been posted. Please check the portal.”

You opened the app on your iPad, your stomach twisting with nerves. You hadn’t had much time to focus on academics lately, and it showed. The grade flashed on the screen: 42%.

Your chest tightened as you stared at the number. Failed. You’d failed. The rush of emotions hit you like a tidal wave—disappointment, frustration, and a deep, overwhelming sadness. Your eyes began to sting, and you blinked rapidly, willing yourself not to cry in the middle of the lecture hall.

“Hey.”

The voice pulled you from your spiral. You turned to see the guy three seats down looking at you, his brows furrowed in concern. “You okay?”

You hesitated, then gave a small, embarrassed nod. “Yeah… I just failed the assignment,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

He tilted his head, clearly surprised. “Failed? This is, like, one of the easiest classes. I’m sure you can recover, though.”

You **** a smile, appreciating his attempt to cheer you up. “Yeah… I guess.”

He leaned back in his chair, studying you for a moment. “Where’ve you been? If you managed to fail this assignment, you must’ve been pretty busy.”

You hesitated for a second, then smirked, your tone playful as you quipped, “Would you believe me if I said I’ve been blowing rich guys for the last two weeks for money?”

The guy blinked in surprise before laughing louder than he should during lecture, his laugh warm and genuine. “What? That’s wild. Definitely wouldn’t have guessed that.”

You laughed too, though the joke hit a little too close to home. It was easier to play it off than to dwell on the truth of it.

“I’m Jake, by the way,” he said, holding out a hand across the empty seats.

“Luna,” you replied, shaking his hand. His grip was firm, his skin warm against yours.

“Well, Luna, if you ever need help catching up or whatever, hit me up.” He pulled out his phone, and you exchanged contacts, his easy demeanor making you feel a little less like the world was crashing down around you.

As the professor began the lecture, you turned your attention back to Jake, who leaned slightly toward you with a grin. "So," he whispered, keeping his voice low enough to not carry. "If blowing rich guys doesn’t work out for you, are you going to start offering extra credit services to the prof?"

You snorted, trying to suppress your laugh, and shot him a playful glare. “Oh, totally. I’m sure he’d love to trade some A’s for my talents. I mean, I’ve got plenty of practice now.”

Jake raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. “Practice makes perfect, huh? Let me guess—‘oral presentations’ are your specialty?”

You bit your lip to keep from laughing out loud. “Naturally. Though I might start charging tuition fees if I’m tutoring people like you in... advanced techniques.”

Jake put a hand to his chest, feigning offense. “Whoa, whoa, don’t lump me in with your... clients. I have standards, you know. Although, a little bit of action for the homework I'm already doing sounds good to me.”

“Standards?” you shot back with mock indignation. “You’re literally entertaining this entire conversation with me. Don’t act like you’re above it.”

He leaned back in his chair, chuckling. “You caught me. I’ll just be in the back of the line waiting for the compensation of my help, then.”

You rolled your eyes, unable to keep from smiling. “Good luck with that. I don’t think you could afford me anyway.”

Before Jake could retort, the professor cleared his throat loudly, his gaze cutting through the room. “I don’t know what’s so funny back there, but unless you’re sharing with the class, I suggest you quiet down.”

You both froze, trying and failing to suppress grins. Jake threw you a sidelong glance, his expression one of feigned innocence, and mouthed, “Your fault.”

You gave him a light shove on the arm and turned your attention back to your iPad, biting back a laugh. With the professor now watching the back row like a hawk, you had **** but to keep your banter with Jake on pause and focus on the lecture.

Still, as you stole one last glance at him, you couldn’t help but feel a little lighter. The failed assignment stung, but having someone to joke around with—even if only for a little while—made the day feel a bit more bearable.

The professor’s droning voice filled the room, but your focus was half there, half elsewhere. You kept stealing glances at your iPad, trying to keep up with the notes despite your earlier emotional spiral. Jake was quiet now, diligently pretending to be a model student after the professor’s reprimand.

Then, your phone buzzed softly in your lap. You tilted it up just enough to read the notification.

Vincent: Be outside in 5.

You sighed internally, glancing at the time in the corner of your screen. Of course. The timing was always impeccable. Still, you typed a quick reply.

Your fingers hesitated briefly before you reached into your bag. The tin of Forget-Me-Mints was nestled in one of the side pockets. You pulled it out, tapping it against your palm until one mint popped out. Staring at it for a moment, you exhaled softly before slipping it into your mouth, letting the sharp, minty taste flood over your tongue.

The end of the lecture couldn’t come soon enough. The professor finally wrapped up, dismissing the class, and you gathered your things quickly. Scooting out of the row past Jake, he leaned toward you with his trademark mischievous grin.

“Leaving so soon? I was just about to ask if I could trade a blowjob for help with your homework,” he joked, his voice low enough not to carry.

You rolled your eyes, suppressing a laugh. “Sorry, not in the mood for charity today.”

He clutched his chest dramatically. “Ouch. Guess I’ll have to schedule for next time.”

You grinned, adjusting your bag on your shoulder as you started down the aisle. “Next time, then. Don’t get your hopes up.”

Jake gave you a mock salute, and you slipped out of the lecture hall, the conversation lingering in your mind just briefly before your phone buzzed again.

Vincent: I’m here.

You stepped out into the crisp air, glancing around until you spotted the familiar sleek black sedan parked near the curb. Your pace quickened as you made your way over. The car door unlocked with a quiet beep as you approached, and you slipped into the passenger seat, closing the door behind you.

Vincent glanced over, his usual smug grin already in place. “Hey there, gorgeous.”

You leaned over, giving him a quick peck on the lips—routine at this point, like clockwork. “Hey,” you replied, settling into the seat and adjusting your bag on your lap.

Without another word, Vincent shifted the car into drive, pulling away from the curb and heading toward one of the usual spots. Somewhere private, somewhere quiet. Somewhere out of the way.

You let your head rest against the seat, the cool mint taste lingering faintly in your mouth as the Forget-Me-Mint began to take hold. By the time you got there, you wouldn’t remember agreeing to this arrangement—or what you were about to do to make sure you’d leave the car with $250 tucked in to your bra.