Mostly

Allison looked down, her mouth agape. “You’re such, such.... I can’t believe it.”

Mark couldn’t tell what she was thinking, but none of it was good.

The door to the study carrel opened, and Cindy walked out. She looked down at him and smirked. “Nice pants, perv.” She took one photo and walked off with his camera.

As Mark twisted to stand, he became aware of a couple of other students walking down the hallway. While he tried to face away from them, one of them reached over to hug Allison. It was Kiara. They said nothing and walked away, arm in arm.

Mark walked back into the conference room. It seemed like a good place to wait for his pants to dry.

He put his head down onto the conference table. He thought back to the last 24 hours. He began to quietly cry. He thought more about the last 24 hours and felt himself get hard. He grabbed his thick cock and looked at the blocked off window and realized he had some privacy.

The carrel had a lock. He used it. He stood on a chair and checked out the adjacent carrels. Empty.

He sat down and undid his soggy pants. He pulled them off, tossed his underwear in the trash, and—considering his overall situation, pulled his pants back on, just in case.

He looked down at his long, thick, straight cock as it swelled and jerked on its own. He began to stroke himself. Long, thick strokes. It was strange to whack off with this monster. He thought about Jo, about wrapping his fingers into her hair. She seemed so young and, well, clean. So pure, so earnest. She’d become so needy, so **** to gag herself on him. So eager to be his slut. Up and down. He thought about Kiara. The hairless wonder, the virginal **** girl who obeyed his every wish. He thought about slapping her ass, and the softness of her skin. He thought about reddening her ass and twisting her nipples until she cried out, despite herself. He thought of the firm wetness of her velvet pussy as it slammed back into him. He thought of Allison sliding her virginal pussy up and down this cock. Oh Allison, you traumatized gymnast with some sort of sadomasochistic slut kink, I—am—going—to—fuck—you—til—you—cry—for—mercy.

He felt that old familiar tickle under his balls. Large balls, he thought to himself. And large cock. Women would fall to their knees to suck this dick. I’m now officially a sex god. He smiled.

He thought of all the sex going on in the library, the fucking and blow jobs. Who knew? And he thought of spunky Cindy, watching and being watched. She of the cute smile, fun jargon, and smut. He thought of her pulling off her shirt in the hallway. He thought of his cock in her mouth. He thought of how he was about to turn her over the desk. So close to that. He could imagine the tightness of her wet slit as he jammed and rammed and destroyed that fine piece of ass.

Mark was so close. His fist pistoned up and down. He felt the pre-cum. He was going to blast.

“This is probably not the best time, Mark, but we should talk.”

Mark scrambled. His hips continued to thrust, like the dying spasm of a wild animal. His hand futilely tried to cover a dick that had a mind of its own.

He looked over at the figure sitting on the other side of the table.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”