It felt like drowning. That was the only thing she could think of, the only word that drowsed her dreams, blurred her view, until she felt drunk enough to wake up in some sort of reverse blackout. She was sweating, her chest jumping. Alice looked down her body, to her small tits, to the pair of panties identical to those she went to bed in yesterday, to her pale pair of legs and the slight pink on her thighs, and yet she felt as if she was wearing somebody else's body. Like she died and was resurrected. 

It didn't matter. Her dissertation into the Hellenistic Period, with a focus on Epicurean Philosophy, meant she had no time to delve into her own dreams, instead focusing on the words found within the shelves of her university. She showered as quickly as she possibly could, and dressed as sensibly as she possibly could. A pair of long jeans, with a simple shirt, and a sweater for the inevitable cold once she left the library. Not exactly the sexiest of outfits, and yet, as she got into the bus, and sat down on one of the backseats, she felt the same weird feeling burning on her nape she'd been feeling for months now. The sensation of being watched. 

Freedom from fear, and absence from pain. Those were the words written inside the book on her lap. But what if pain is what brings you joy, what if fear is what frees you? She couldn't help but feel, perhaps for the first time in her life, a certain disconnection from the person she was, and the person she wanted to be. Like there was some triumphant, naked goddess version of her somewhere ready to be unleashed, if only she could shatter the shell surrounding her. And yet, the goddesses in Greek Myth were just as stern and petty as the male gods. A firm and violent hand, that's what she needed. Hers or someone else's, she didn't know.

The palm on her thigh came suddenly and very casually, almost like a summer wind. She looked down, maybe hoping it was a mistake, but the man next to her didn't move an inch. He was older, she couldn't tell how much, and not for a second he looked at her or hesitated. It was somewhat awkward, definitely sobering, but not terrible. It excited her, the thought that if only he moved a couple inches closer, he could touch her pussy.

Just for a second, he shook his hand, nearly getting away from her, but her palm found the back of his, and Alice held his hand there, next to her crotch, until she arrived at school. Once there, she didn't look at him. She simply walked down the steps, and walked to her classroom. She thought about going to the bathroom and masturbating, but somehow the urge was better than the sensation. She knew then, the next time she orgasmed, it was going to be the real thing.

The classes were short and tedious. It was only during lunch, as she sat at the cafeteria, that the excitement returned. A phone call. Anonymous caller. All the things you ignored. She answered. This caller of hers, these little denouements from the day, had been happening for a few weeks now, more frequently lately. At first, it scared her to the point of shivers, but now she welcomed it.

The heavy breathing on the other side. A male, slightly rasping breath, she could tell even from the poor reception, perhaps from someone she knew. One of the other students, or a professor? She held her own breath as a response, and leaned in closer, elbows on the table. Alice had enjoyed the attention, in her own way, but now, she wanted a piece of it back. She hadn't said anything yet, she simply listened. If she could only whisper a few simple words...

"Are you jerking off for me?"

A pause. Then, a wet, rhythmic noise.

"...Yes."

"Can you only think about me?"

"Yes."

"I can only think about you."

Abruptly, the call ended. Disappointed, she grabbed her things, and threw her half-eaten sandwich in the trashcan, but not before seeing an young, somewhat familiar man scuttling away at the back of the room. Late for a presentation, she wiped him from her mind, and walked her way to the auditorium.

Boring words, and boring books. A rich career in history, maybe a nice man, a big house, and if she was lucky, two beautiful children before the inevitable death. She did everything according to plan. No parties, very few boyfriends, never truly drunk. It was as if she were made of a different material from the rest of the world. As the hours lingered and crawled, her dream came back to her. 

She was swimming. An infinite blackness expanded ahead of her. She was tired, but she couldn't give up, not yet. Persistent, stubborn, always further and further ahead, until she finally saw a sliver of light, just right there, waiting for her. All she needed was to stretch her arm to break the surface, one last push, but as she did so, a curtain of sand flew under her body, and she realized all this time, she had been swimming the wrong way. If she only could burrow her body onto the ocean floor, shove her naked form into that crevice, pierce the membrane somehow, perhaps then she could find the opposite universe which she actually belonged to.

It was late. She found herself bent over a boring book on one of the long desks at the library, fluorescent light burning her pupils white. There were a few students here and there, some teachers, the librarians, but for the most part, she felt alone. That was, until the weird sensation returned to her nape, burning like a mosquito bite. 

Nearly unconsciously, she rose from her chair, and decided to take the heavy book back to its shelf. She walked down the aisle, still that weird, tingling sensation pestering her, warming her, as her steps echoed down the lobby. She placed the book neatly into the empty space, and pushed in. A small pause, as Alice felt the unflichable firmness of a male hand grabbing hers.

She didn't scream. She couldn't tell why. The face staring back was jovial, handsome, and eager. His eyes were innocent baby-blue, but his scowl was that of a hungry animal. She recognized him somehow, he was the man from the cafeteria, and yet it felt deeper than that, older, and it took her a second to realize she knew him from back home.

"Luke, is it you?"

"Yeah, it's me. I've been looking for you all over the place."

"But I..."

He shoved her against the shelf. "Ever since I saw you at a party, years ago, I've been thinking about you. I followed, I watched, and yet I didn't know if you wanted. That was, until today."

He wasn't as she remembered. Lean, but muscled, like a swimmer's body. Hungry, desperate, but intense, definitely focused. It took her a few brief, eternal seconds for her to understand, but the feeling in her body, the sleepless nights, the aching desire, the bad dreams... She wanted him to. 

"Luke, I..."

He kissed her, and the warmth of his body was like a nuclear explosion amidst a placid winter. She knew, however, that wasn't the type of desire for simply kisses, the obsession he carried, the hunger she fed, it was the feral yearning of animals in heat. His surprisingly soft hand traced her belly-button, and made its way down her pants. She whimpered, just for a second, before biting her lip, trying to think of anything to say that could convince him to stop, but she didn't want him to stop. He began touching her with slow, almost laborious moves, as he kissed her neck, and bit her shoulder, but soon he found a rhythm, and began accelerating. 

She quaked, suddenly too aware of her surroundings. A post-grad student rushed at the end of the corridor, and she flinched away from his hand, too timid to continue the chase.

"We need to stop."

"Do we?"

She paused.

"No. We don't."

He turned her around. That time, her pants and underwear were pulled down just a bit, enough to give him access to her wet pussy, and the nibbles that found her ear were a bit more forceful then, like she'd been teasing a wolf that grew bored of his prey.

He jerked her off frantically, without fear of hurt, both hands between her shivering legs as she threatened to fall limp on the carpet floor. Her ache built and built, but the instant she was ready to cum, she pushed him away, making a loud thud as his body hit the shelves.

"No. If you want my orgasm, you're gonna have to fuck me."

He jumped onto her. His hands pulled her pants down as hers opened his shirt to reveal a taut chest. He tried to remove her sweater as quickly as he could, but burning bodies as theirs were, the poor vest got caught around her head, making both of them exhale a quiet, muffled laughter.

"A bit too eager, I guess. Not that I'm going to stop." he whispered, and soon enough his left hand was gently holding her breast.

Luke was on top of her, both of them partially dressed upon that carpet, hidden behind bookshelves that yet, here and there between their page-filled bricks, a few empty spaces could reveal what transpired to anyone who was only attentive enough to see.

He kissed her chest, then kissed her belly. Nipping her soft flesh. With both hands, she grabbed his blond scalp, before bringing his face closer to hers, moaning and whimpering as he shoved his hard cock inside. It jolted and chilled her at the same time, as her back convulsed into an arch, and she buried her nails into his back.

His movements were somewhat frantic, hurried, fed by obsession. Like he was feeding off of her, but in reality it was the opposite. Alice was feeding off of him, his body, his mind, the desire obscured by all these years studying, and now finally allowed to explode. It grew, and grew, as his hands found their way around her nipples.

She brought her own hand downwards, panting as his weight guided his hard cock deep into her. She started masturbating, a frantic rush, but soon her own hand was jittering. Luke looked down to their hips together, a furious smile stamped on his face. 

"Don't worry," he said, as he placed her hand on his shoulder for support. She grabbed hard enough to leave marks.

He started jerking her off as he fucked her, kisses on her neck, head, chest, while his other palm behind her spread her cheeks just a little. His mouth caressed her face and neck alongside each continuous thrust. Next aisle over, she could hear the deliberate footsteps of some student or another, but Alice didn't care, as long as she could finish right then, right there. They kept fucking. His eyes were two determined and unflinching spears whose glow pierced her body alone, but not her soul. She knew then, the moment they met, years ago, he'd been thinking about her, being hers in a way that she never owned anything else in this life.

"You're mine," she said. "You better not fucking pull out. Do you hear me? You're mine."

The thrusts didn't stop. Alice closed her arms around him, and brought his hard body onto the floor atop hers, as she fell backwards into her orgasm like it was a dark, freezing pool.

He didn't pull out. 

Luke tried to squirm away, but she held him there, ensnared, just a little longer. "You're mine," she said, before getting dressed, and leaving a wet spot on the floor.