Mid-Ball Delight [M/F]

(When I speak about my college in this story, I'm talking about my college of Oxford University. Essentially, it's a collection of student residence buildings but also a social centre for members of that college, so the main building contains a dining hall, function hall, student rooms, bar, etc. This becomes relevant later.)

It was the biggest ball of term – black tie, of course. I took my time getting ready. Mind you, he wouldn't be there; this was just for me. A tiny cocktail dress followed by a slightly longer blazer. Hair up elegantly. Done.

I left my room and walked carefully downstairs in my heels, already hearing the jazz coming from the hall. Befriending the person handing out champagne ending up being a good decision and, half a bottle in, I was ready to dance. Before that, though, my friends pulled me in for a group photo and posted it on Facebook.

I danced for an hour, then went to the bar for a drink. While I was waiting I checked my phone. There was a text from him: “You look delicious.” I was turned on right away, but ignored my body long enough to get a G & T. Sipping it, I watched the posh boys dance under old chandeliers and decided against replying to him over text.

Instead, I walked across the hall and to the spiral staircase at its corner, going up two flights to his door. I knocked with no hesitation, feeling the anticipation of fucking him already. He opened the door bleary-eyed and already in his pyjamas, hair mussed up. I kissed him in the doorway, then walked him back to his desk chair and straddled him on it. My formal dress disappeared up my legs. "This is a nice surprise," he chuckled.

As I kissed his neck, between ragged breaths he told me to close the door. “Your whole corridor's at the ball,” I whispered. He pulled me harder against him so I could feel how hard he was. I moaned, knowing that for once his neighbours couldn't hear a thing.

His hands moved to touch my hair, but I pushed them firmly down onto my hips. “Don't you dare mess my hair up, I've got a ball to attend.” He smiled lopsidedly and went to move his hands again, but I only tightened my hold. We kissed once more, almost bruisingly this time. He bit me hard enough that I almost expected to taste blood.

I undressed him hurriedly, wanting to get mine and get back to the ball. I knew my friends would be wondering where I had gotten to. With him naked, I led him over to sit on his bed and stood in front of him. He pulled my knickers down my legs, leaving me in just heels and a tiny dress. Then I straddled him again, this time feeling exactly how hard he was.

I rose up above him slightly and we kissed; his dick was just teasing me. At this point it was a game of who would give in first – I knew he would lose. I pressed myself even closer to him and whispered 'fuck me' in his ear. He pulled me down so I could feel all of him inside me. Still hearing the band from downstairs, I wondered if they could hear me saying his name. He fucked me hard enough that I came quickly, with him coming inside me a few seconds afterwards.

After I'd regained used of my legs I pulled my knickers back on, kissed him goodbye, and left. (Helpfully, the door was still open for me to leave through.)

I walked back down the spiral staircase and to the ball. My sex flush blended in with the drunken flush of everything else, I'd like to think. Though that faded, my pleased smirk didn't after he texted me a picture of the mark I'd left on his neck.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/3ybx3z/midball_delight_mf