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Images of Miranda were running through his head -- her pink lips wrapped around his cock while her perfect face looked up at him, her body lying prone beneath him as he carved out stroke after stroke in her shaved pussy -- and his body yearned for hers.

He silently grabbed his phone off his nightstand, snuck it under the covers, and pulled up her contact information. He'd never texted her before, and facing the blank screen, he wasn't sure how to go about it. Finally, Peter went for the classic line used the world over.

- hey, you up?

Anxiously, pressure slowly building in his balls, he stared at the screen, willing it to vibrate. Seconds passed. Miranda was probably asleep. Or thought he was a dweeb and ignoring him. More seconds passed, what felt like an eternity, and Peter was starting to make a plan on finding the bathroom least likely to have someone else come in halfway, when his phone bzzz'd a reply.

- yeah. come over. 704 hilgard, side door, text me when you're here.

Peter had never gotten dressed so quickly. He threw on a pair of exercise shorts and what smelled like a clean t-shirt, and snuck out of the room as quickly as he could, skirting by the seemingly-asleep Kat.

He knew roughly where most of the sorority houses were (not that he'd had a chance to actually go to any of them). It was just a quick 5 minute jog from the freshman dorm where he was staying, and he covered the distance at a easy lope.

His mind was preoccupied with the prospect of getting some -- at least, that's what he hoped would be happening. But he'd never really had a booty call before and he didn't know if that's what was happening. How would Miranda treat him? How should he greet her? Wait, some of Kat's saliva was technically probably still on his member (this thought gave a little hitch in his step and he almost tripped), should he have taken a shower?

So, he didn't notice that his schlubby nerd bod was fitter and lighter on its feet than he was used to. One more pleasant side-effect of his chemical dosing, but one that wasn't top of mind right now.

Peter arrived at the address in question, and saw that the front door was illuminated by street lights. Feeling like a bit of a creep, he went around the side of the building until he saw a small, nondescript door with a couple of concrete steps leading up to. He stood a few feet away from it, wondering if it was the right one, when the door opened and Miranda poked her head out.

God, she was gorgeous in the dim light of the early morning.

"Come in quick, and don't say anything," she hissed in a whisper.

Peter obediently trotted up the steps, squeezing past the Korean coed into what looked like a shared kitchen. "Follow me, quietly," she emphasized again. He followed her up a nearby flight of carpeted stairs, past a couple of closed doors until they got to what was, presumably, her room.

Miranda gestured at Peter to go in first, then closed the door behind him and turned to face him, crossing her arms under her breasts. She was wearing a simple white tank top that made her skin glow, tanned bronze as it was by the California sun. The action pushed her cleavage slightly up and out and Peter's background horniness spiked up in approval.

"What do you want?" she said, unreadable.