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GIFTS FROM THE GODS: WHERE'S THE BEEF (Part 7)


GIFTS FROM THE GODS: WHERE'S THE BEEF (Part 7)

Bounding back down the stairs with a gift basket full of Jon's pharmaceutical samples, the reverse version of Garth Brook's song "I've Got Friends In Low Places," played in my head as I thanked whatever gods may be for Jon and his rich daddy's generosity.

To say I was eager to share my loot with Professor Clint would be the understatement of the year. Going so long without a man had me primed--now the prospect of having one--had left my face hot and hands shaking as I unlocked the door and cautiously peaked in.

He'd moved from the bed to the table and was finishing off the rest of his breakfast. Looking up he mumbled, "I know. You told me not to move. Sorry. Couldn't help it. You left me hungry and frustrated. Besides I'm not good at following orders."

Laughing I kissed him and mussed up his hair. "I didn't mean to be so bossy. Got carried away. Just didn't want you leaving."

"Okay," he confessed, "I'm curious. What's in the basket?"

Dumping my haul on to the middle of the table, I folded my arms and waited.

"Trojans?" He burst out laughing. "I'm not even going to ask. I will simply consider this a miracle. Gifts from the gods . . . I adore you, as they must too . . . "

Carrying the basket and me into the bedroom, he pulled back the covers. "Okay, Kate, in you go, lay still. I'm going to work on getting you out of this skirt." Being a wrap-around, it was only a matter of one flip of his wrist to untie its bow. "What?" he chuckled, commando? Will your gifts never cease?"

"You're gonna like this present too," I whispered, "one pull on the Velcro holding up this top, and like the skirt, you're in for a surprise."

Reaching down the neckline he gave the tab a rip and my breasts fell into his hands. "Oh Kate," he gasped, "they're beautiful."

Sliding his left arm under me, with his right hand, he eased his clothes off and drew me near. Lying silently flesh to flesh, his tongue coaxed mine into a game of thrust and suck as his hand pushed mine downward to his stiff hard cock. "Play with it Kate, I need you to do that for me. Play with it."

From the gift basket I picked out a 'Peppermint Flavor' Trojan. A Magnum.

"We're gonna play 'dress-up' and put you into something disposable, " I murmured.

"You put it on," he told me, "before I explode."

Opening the package, I maneuvered the condom into place with my thumb and forefinger and rolled it down. I had never done it before in my life, but I'd seen it demonstrated in a sex education class with a banana. I could only hope he didn't think I did this kind of thing all the time, but then on second thought, being as riled up as I was, I didn't give a damn if he did.

"Well done. Kate. I couldn't have done it better myself," he groaned kissing my breasts and smoothing his hand over the rubber to make sure everything was in place.

Wrapping my fist around his big peppermint stick, I tasted it. "Umm. I'm buying Trojan stock. Delicious product. It's good."

"Good is how I want you to feel," he whispered rubbing the engorged head hard against my clit. The bite of the peppermint and the pressure of his cock trying to break through made my stomach swirl and my juices flow.

I was so slick, I was sure--any second--he'd be sliding all the way into home base, but the gift gods held back this time. A thunderous crash shook the room. Plaster and lath fell all around us. Looking up, we saw a big iron chandelier poking through what was left of the ceiling.

In the stairwell above us we heard Samantha, the "bitch from hell" and Jon, screaming at each other as doors slammed and pots and pans bounced off the walls

I felt stunned. Confused and cheated. Mad as hell that we didn't get to fuck--even madder now, that we'd have no place to do it.

As Clint and I threw on our clothes--a voice in my head reminded me--never does one door close, that another does not open.

As alarms went off and students gathered outside the building, I helped Clint down the back stairs to the "Love Tunnel." I got back just in time to find cops in the hall outside my door. It was all I could do not to cuss them out for asking the simplest question or making the most ambiguous comment. I needed time to sort things out, come up with a story, and then go below and see if Clint had stayed put in my storage room with the first aid kit and Jon's gift basket.

* * * * * * *

To Be Continued: Part 8
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