He lets out a deep, guttural moan that sets me off. Between the cut off air and the way his hot cum splashes over my spread pussy, along with the intensity of his stare, I come again, shuddering beneath him as he coats me with his need.
He falls down on top of me, pressing his forehead against mine as I pant against his mask.
‘I’m sorry,’ he says, ‘I should have asked before choking you.’
‘I’m yours, I trust you not to hurt me.’
‘What if I don’t know where the line is?’ he asks.
‘I’ll make sure you do. That’s never happened to me before.’
‘What?’ he asks.
‘Coming without anyone touching me.’
He lets out a pleased little groan and kisses me through his mask. ‘So I didn’t suck?’
I laugh. ‘Only in the good way. You are, however, getting your clothes covered in cum.’
‘I don’t care.’
He slides over, letting me breathe, and I look at this masked face, wishing I could see more of him.
‘Okay?’ I ask.
He laughs. ‘I think so.’
I tuck my face against his hoodie and hide my grin there for a moment, loving that he looks as spaced out as I feel.
We lie there for a while in satisfied quiet, watching the patterns the candles trace on the ceiling. He traces slow circles against my spine.
‘We need to talk about the notes,’ he says eventually.
I sigh as the real world infects my bliss.
Disentangling myself, I go to the desk and pull them out from under the notebook. He examines them with a cold focus that has me nervous.
He takes out his phone and turns the screen toward me.
Grainy and wide-angled security footage from the university car park, with the timestamp in the corner. A figure in dark clothes moves along the row of cars with a purpose that makes my stomach tighten. He stops at mine, pulling out a short knife and puncturing the wheels of my car.
‘How did you get this?’ I ask.
He shrugs. ‘I’m pretty good at convincing people to do things when I have to be.’
I make myself keep watching.
‘Do you see how his hood comes down for a second when he crouches to start scratching the words? That’s all we get. Dark hair, but nothing of his face.’
I stare at the screen. It could be anyone.
‘Has anyone made you feel uncomfortable?’ he asks. ‘Anything at all?’
‘My professor’s teaching assistant does. But I think he’s just an average creep. Doesn’t know how to take a no. He stands too close and stares too long. Makes my skin crawl a bit when I’m alone with him. I try not to be the last out of the class, as last time he penned me in.’
‘He makes you feel unsafe?’
‘Uncomfortable. It might be nothing, though.’
