Continue with the redhead

"Hey—wait up!" Alex called out, jogging down the hallway after the redhead who'd just turned the corner. She didn’t slow down, so he sped up, grabbing her wrist just as she reached the stairwell. She turned, blinking at him with those big, confused eyes—the same ones that had stared up at him blankly while he fucked her tits minutes ago.

"Hold on," he said, like it was the most natural thing in the world, his fingers already working at the button of her jeans. She blinked again—slow, uncomprehending—as if her brain hadn't quite caught up to the fact that he was undressing her right there in the stairwell. The button popped open with a flick of his thumb, and her jeans slid down her hips without resistance, pooling around her ankles. Her panties—plain cotton, practical—followed just as easily, leaving her bare from the waist down.

She didn’t move. Didn’t protest. Just stood there, knees slightly apart, the faintest flush creeping up her throat as the cool air of the stairwell brushed against her exposed skin. Alex let out a low whistle, admiring the view. Her thighs were soft, her hips wide—the kind of body built for taking, for holding onto. And between them, neatly trimmed, glistening faintly in the fluorescent light, was the prettiest little pussy he’d ever seen.

Alex didn’t waste time—dropping to his knees, he hooked his hands under her thighs and pulled her forward until her hips were flush against his face. The first lick was slow, deliberate, dragging the flat of his tongue from the bottom of her slit all the way up to her clit. She gasped, fingers twitching at her sides, but her eyes darted past him to the clock mounted on the stairwell wall. "Uh—

Her thighs tensed against his ears as he buried his face deeper, tongue working in slow, wet circles around her clit before plunging down to lap at her entrance. The taste of her—salt and something faintly sweet—flooded his senses, but she barely reacted beyond a soft hitch in her breath. Her fingers tapped impatiently against her bare hips, gaze locked on the clock over his shoulder.

Alex grinned against her, teeth grazing her inner thigh just hard enough to make her jump. "Relax," he murmured, though he knew she wouldn’t. Not when the second hand was ticking closer to the bell. He could feel the tension in her legs, the way her hips twitched—not from pleasure, but from the urge to bolt. So he doubled down, sliding two fingers into her while his tongue flicked rapid-fire over her clit, determined to wrench at least one real reaction from her before she slipped away.

Her breath stuttered, finally, hips jerking forward—but her eyes never left the clock. A frustrated groan slipped from her lips, toes curling in her discarded jeans. "Seriously, I—oh god—I have a quiz," she muttered, voice strained as his fingers curled inside her.

The bell rang, shrill and insistent, and she shoved him back with a force that sent him sprawling onto the stairwell landing. Alex barely had time to register the wet smear of her on his chin before she was yanking her jeans back up, hopping on one foot as she tugged them over her hips. "Fuck—fuck—" she hissed, fingers fumbling with the button.

The button slipped through her fingers again—her hands were shaking too much—and with a frustrated huff, she kicked the jeans off entirely, leaving them puddled on the stairwell floor as she bolted up the steps bare from the waist down. Alex blinked, still sprawled on the landing, watching the soft jiggle of her ass as she took the stairs two at a time.

He didn’t move for a moment, just stared at the empty space where she’d been, then down at the discarded jeans crumpled at his feet. A slow grin spread across his face as he reached for them, rubbing the fabric between his fingers—still warm from her skin—before deciding where to go next.