Chapter 30: Ace pins CC face-down on the cold wooden lectern, hiking her skirt up to expose her bare ass before spanking her hard with one hand while plunging three fingers into her dripping cunt with the other. 'This what you wanted, you little slut?' she growls, biting CC's shoulder as her fingers curl brutally against the blonde's g-spot.
The dusty chalk smell hung thick in the empty lecture hall, motes dancing in the slanted beams of late afternoon sun. Ace tapped her pencil against the open textbook, its rhythm echoing slightly in the vast, silent space. Beside her, CC shifted on the hard wooden seat, the rustle of her skirt unusually loud.
"Okay," Ace sighed, pushing a hand through her short, dark hair. "The Peloponnesian War wasn't that complicated, CC. Athens overextended, Sparta got pissed. Boom."
"Easy for you to say," CC murmured, her voice husky. She uncrossed and recrossed her legs beneath the desk, the hem of her flimsy sundress riding up her smooth thighs with the movement. "My brain feels like mush. Too much sun at practice earlier, maybe." Her green eyes flicked towards Ace, holding a challenge Ace couldn't quite decipher.
Ace frowned. Practice had been hours ago. And CC had been… different since that tangled, intense morning in her dorm room a few days prior. The phantom sting of teeth on her lower lip, the desperate friction of CC’s wet heat grinding against her thigh, the raw command in her voice – Don't you fucking coddle me – it all replayed in Ace's mind with startling clarity every time she looked at her friend. CC hadn't mentioned it. Hadn't apologized for the bite mark, nor explained the sudden, ferocious need that had possessed her. They'd fallen back into their easy rhythm, mostly, but a new current hummed beneath the surface, electric and dangerous.
CC shifted again, this time spreading her knees slightly wider beneath the desk. Her sandaled foot nudged Ace’s boot. "Can you… explain the Sicilian Expedition part again?" she asked, leaning forward to rest her elbows on the desk. The neckline of her dress dipped, offering a generous view of the soft swell of her breasts.
Ace swallowed, forcing her eyes back to the dense text. "Right. Sicily. Big mess. Athens thought they’d grab resources, it blew up spectacularly in their faces." Her voice sounded rougher than she intended. She could smell CC’s familiar vanilla perfume, mixed with something warmer, muskier. She kept her gaze fixed on the book. "Alcibiades fucked them over, basically."
Another rustle. A deliberate slide of fabric. Ace’s peripheral vision caught the movement. CC was smoothing her skirt… but it seemed she was also hiking it higher, her bare knees now clearly visible. Ace’s pencil stopped tapping. Her jaw tightened. She remembered the unexpected, shocking glide of skin on skin in her dorm, the absolute absence of underwear. Was she…?
No. She wouldn’t.Not here. But the possibility ignited a spark low in Ace’s belly.
CC sighed dramatically, stretching her arms above her head, arching her back. The movement pulled her dress tight across her chest. "God, this chair is so uncomfortable. How do they expect people to learn like this?" As she lowered her arms, she deliberately, slowly, parted her knees wider. Wider still. The edge of the desk offered some concealment, but from Ace’s vantage point, angled slightly towards her, the view was unmistakable.
There, in the shadowed warmth beneath the desk and the skirt bunched carelessly around her hips, was smooth, bare flesh. The gentle curve of her inner thighs met the soft, neatly trimmed thatch of blonde curls… and nothing else. No lace, no cotton barrier. Just the vulnerable, naked center of her. She wasn’t just not wearing panties; she was flaunting it.
Ace’s breath hitched. Her knuckles whitened around the pencil. The lecture hall suddenly felt suffocatingly hot, the silence roaring in her ears. Deliberate. This was fucking deliberate. The memory of CC’s defiance, her demand for roughness, slammed into Ace. This wasn't an invitation to tenderness. This was a provocation.
"You forgot something," Ace stated, her voice dangerously low, stripped of its usual casual swagger. She didn’t look at the book. She looked directly at the exposed vulnerability between CC’s spread legs.
CC’s cheeks flushed pink, but her chin lifted. A flicker of defiance, almost fear, warred with the blatant invitation in her eyes. "Did I?" she breathed, her voice barely a whisper. She didn’t move her legs. "Maybe I just… wanted to be comfortable." Her tongue darted out to wet her lips.
"Comfortable?" Ace scoffed, a harsh sound. She shoved her chair back with a scrape that echoed violently in the empty room. The textbook tumbled to the floor, forgotten. "Bullshit, Chloe." The use of her full name made CC flinch. "This isn't comfortable. This is a fucking dare."
Ace stood up, looming over CC, who shrank back instinctively against her chair, though her legs remained stubbornly parted. The scent of her arousal was suddenly undeniable, a warm, sweet musk cutting through the chalk dust. Ace saw the rapid pulse fluttering in CC’s throat.
"Get up," Ace commanded, her voice rough gravel.
"Wh-what?" CC stammered, eyes wide.
"Get. Up." Ace grabbed her wrist, hauling her to her feet with surprising strength for someone so petite. CC stumbled, her bare thighs brushing against Ace’s jeans. Ace propelled her forward, away from the desks, towards the raised podium at the front of the hall. Sunlight streamed directly onto the worn wooden surface, illuminating scattered notes and an abandoned mug.
"No, Ace, wait—" CC gasped, genuine panic now edging her voice, but her resistance was token, her body pliant as Ace spun her around and bent her forward over the smooth, cool wood of the professor’s desk. Ace pressed her weight down, pinning CC’s hips, one strong hand splayed across the small of her back. With the other, she yanked the flimsy sundress up over CC’s hips, bunching it around her waist, exposing the full, rounded curve of her ass and the utterly bare, pink glistening folds of her pussy to the afternoon light.
"Jesus Christ," Ace hissed at the sight – the blatant wetness already coating her inner thighs, the swollen lips, the clit visibly hard and peeking out from its hood. "You're soaking. Just from this? From sitting there showing me your bare fucking cunt?"
"Shut up," CC whimpered, her voice muffled against the wooden surface. She tried to buck, but Ace pressed down harder, her own arousal a tight, demanding ache between her legs.
"Still playing straight, princess?" Ace growled, running a possessive hand over the swell of CC’s ass. She felt the tremor run through the smaller girl. "Forgetting your fucking underwear so I can see how wet you get? So I can see how much you want this?" Her fingers didn't ask permission. They slid down, through the slick heat, directly to the source. She found CC’s opening, hot and impossibly wet, and pushed two thick fingers deep inside her in one brutal thrust. No preamble, no gentleness.
CC cried out, a sharp, choked sound that bounced off the high ceiling. Her back arched, pushing her ass back against Ace’s hand, taking the fingers deeper. "Fuck! Ace!"
"Yeah, fuck," Ace agreed, grinding the heel of her hand against CC’s clit as she started to piston her fingers, curling them slightly on each inward stroke. The slide was obscene, wet squelching sounds mingling with CC’s ragged gasps and moans. "Fucking soaking my hand. Is this what you wanted? Huh? When you sat there, spreading your legs? You wanted me to fuck you raw right here?"
"Yesss!" CC hissed, her nails scrabbling against the wood. Her hips jerked erratically, fucking herself desperately onto Ace’s thrusting fingers. "God, yes! Harder! Don’t stop!"
Ace grunted, adding a third finger, stretching CC wide, feeling the tight clench and flutter around her knuckles. She drove them deep, relentlessly, the base of her hand grinding against CC’s swollen clit with every stroke. She leaned forward, her breath hot on the back of CC’s neck. "Look at you," she rasped, her voice thick with lust. "Bent over your professor’s desk, getting finger-fucked like a slut. Taking my fingers so deep in your greedy little cunt. Still think you’re straight?"
CC’s response was a guttural moan, her body tightening, trembling on the edge. "I— I don’t— Fuck! Ace! I’m gonna—"
"Yeah, come on," Ace commanded, increasing the pressure on her clit, her fingers driving harder, faster. "Show me. Let me feel you come all over my fingers. Come for me right here where anyone could walk in."
The words, the rough possession, the relentless stimulation – it detonated within CC. Her body locked, a silent scream tearing from her throat as her pussy clamped down in fierce, rhythmic spasms around Ace’s buried fingers. Wetness flooded Ace’s hand, dripping down CC’s inner thighs onto the polished wood below. Ace kept fucking her through it, drawing out the intense waves, feeling the tremors shake the smaller girl’s frame.
As the shudders subsided into exhausted trembles, Ace slowly, deliberately, withdrew her glistening fingers. She held them in front of CC’s dazed, tear-streaked face. "See that?" she murmured, her voice still rough but lower now. "That’s you. All over me."
CC whimpered, turning her head away, burying her face in her arm, her breath coming in ragged hitches. Ace let the dress fall back down, covering her, then gently eased her up. CC swayed, unsteady on her feet, her green eyes wide and dark, filled with a chaotic mix of shame, satisfaction, and utter confusion. Ace kept an arm around her waist, supporting her weight, pulling her away from the podium, away from the evidence of her climax glistening on the professor’s desk. The silence of the lecture hall pressed in again, heavy now with the smell of sex and the echo of what they’d just done.
"Let’s get out of here," Ace muttered, guiding the trembling girl towards the door, the late afternoon sunlight painting long, accusing shadows across their path. The walk home would be long, and silent, punctuated only by the frantic rhythm of two hearts still pounding against ribs, lost in a storm neither fully understood.