The attic

“Well…” You think it over. “The house is big.”

“I’ve noticed that,” Lopez says, looking up and down the hall. “It’s got to be like five thousand square feet. Do you even use half these rooms?”

“That’s a secret,” you say, winking at her.

“So?”

“We have an attic. I think. Nobody likes going in the basement, but we do go down there sometimes. But nobody ever goes in the attic.”

“Never?”

“Never,” you say.

“Want to be the first?” she asks you.

“Something tells me I’m not your first,” you say.

“Kid, you’re killing me.”

“I’m not a kid.” You put on a pouting face. She laughs.

“OK. Lead the way. Grownup with pigtails.”

“I don’t have pigtails.”

“But you should.”

“So you’re looking at my hair,” you say over your shoulder as you lead her down the hallway, putting a little extra sway in your walk. At least your jammy pants hug your hips in a pretty flattering way. Lopez could speed up and walk at your side, but she’s walking behind you. You aren’t sure why you suddenly want to seduce this cop so bad, but it seems like a very CCL thing to do. Besides, you like the dry way she talks and her husky voice. You kind of want to hear what she sounds like when she makes other kinds of noises.

You’re nearing the steps, and the sounds from downstairs are clearer. There’s a rapid… slapping of wet flesh, and some pornstar-esque screams.

“They’re having fun,” Lopez notes.

“Fun’s our whole thing,” you say.

“Right.”

You take her down the hall, take a right, then a left into a weird, narrow passage. This is where that attic trap door is. You’ve noticed it a few times, but it’s never really been an issue.

Now there’s, uh… an issue.

You stand beside Lopez, who is taller than you, but you’re both normal women and this hall has a pretty tall ceiling. It’s like ten feet up.

“How do we get to it?” she asks, and you wince.

“I didn’t think about that part.”

Lopez looks at a sideboard table that’s nearby, but everything in this house is an antique. It’s all cool and gothic like that, so you don’t want to be climbing on that stuff. You turn around look at the doors.

“Maybe Aki has something we can use,” you suggest. Aki is the most reasonable, rational, and civilized person in the entire sorority. She will help you out for sure. You go over and knock. “Um, Aki?”

After a moment, the door opens. You’re greeted with the incredibly lovely scent of her shampoo, and the smell of her room, which is always impeccable. Aki wears an adorable set of pale blue matching jammies. She’s not particularly gorgeous, and her figure isn’t particularly amazing, but she’s always so put together that the overall picture is incredibly cute. Her glossy, black hair is long and straight.

But it’s not her that you’re interested in. Behind her is… Tracy. CCL’s faculty sponsor. She’s a professor from the university.

She’s naked, kneeling on the floor of Aki’s room. Her hands are tied behind her back with white rope. Unlike Aki, Tracy has a voluptuous body and you are totally arrested by the sight of her huge knockers just hanging there in the open. She blinks at you in shock from behind her glasses, like she did not think for one second that Aki would actually open the door.

“Um,” you say. “Aki, we need to get up there.” You point at the trap door, trying to act like finding Tracy in here nude is totally cool. “Do you have something we can stand on?”

“Certainly,” Aki replies in her slightly stilted English.

She walks over to Tracy and undoes the ropes on her hands, then gently grasps her hair. Tracy stands up and follows obediently as Aki walks her out into the hallway.

Detective Lopez politely stands aside, doing the same as you: trying not to let her eyes pop out of her head as Tracy’s swinging bosom goes by.

“Down,” Aki orders.

Tracy obediently gets on all fours.

Aki gestures invitingly. What? Tracy’s back is supposed to be the stepping stool? You… you can’t do that to Tracy. And that wouldn’t even get you high enough to reach the door.

“Um, that’s not going to work,” you say. “Sorry. Thanks, though.”

Aki smiles at you, then takes Tracy by the hair again and leads her back into the room. She shuts the door.

“Very helpful,” Lopez says. “Isn’t she a professor?”

“No idea,” you say innocently.