The Psychology of a Good Cling novel · Chapter 3 of 12

Chapter 3: Under the Desk

Ulises let go of me like the desk was burning.

"Underneath," he whispered. "Quick."

I jumped down, my skirt bunched at my waist and my torn underwear twisted to one side, and squeezed into the space beneath the desk.

It was a narrow, dark space, full of cables and the smell of old wood.

I curled up with my backpack in my lap.

He yanked up his pants, buttoned three buttons wrong, and hid me with the chair.

"One second, Paulina."

"Open up. I don't have all day."

He turned the key.

From my hiding spot, I saw his black shoes, the edge of his pants still unbuttoned, and a pair of red heels stride into the room like they owned the place.

"It's so hot in here," the voice said.

"It's the AC."

"There's no AC." A pause. "And it smells weird."

"Coffee."

"It doesn't smell like coffee."

I covered my mouth with both hands.

The heels made a full circle.

"And these papers on the floor."

"The bookcase fell over."

"The bookcase fell over," she repeated, her voice making it clear she didn't believe him. "You, the neatest person in the grad program. Anyway, I need the key to the third-floor archive. They told me you had it."

"It's in the drawer."

"Then give it to me."

She bent down to open the drawer, and as she did, her knee almost touched my face.

He looked down at me for a second, eyes wide, pleading.

I smiled at him.

I had a very bad idea.

With one hand, I unzipped him.

Ulises went rigid.

"I'll... I'll find it for you," he said, his voice an octave higher.

"Don't get nervous. It's just a key."

I pulled his cock out of his underwear.

It was still semi-hard, wet with both of us, smelling of my body and his mixed together.

My mouth watered.

I kissed the tip, softly.

Ulises let out a groan and disguised it as a cough.

"Are you sick?"

"Allergies."

"You're always like that around that tree." The heels came closer to the desk. "Hey, I heard you got 1104. I'm in 1105. But between you and me, the professor promised me your position next year."

"My position?"

"You're brilliant, Ulises. But you're slow. And I'm not."

I took the tip into my mouth and closed my lips around it.

I heard him swallow.

I sucked him slowly, very slowly, my tongue pressed underneath, and felt him harden against my palate again, thick and hot, throbbing in my mouth.

His hand reached down beneath the desk and tangled in my hair.

He didn't push.

He just held on.

"You're awfully quiet," Paulina said.

"Thinking."

"About what?"

"My article."

"The one about touch?" She laughed. "Always with your theories about human contact. One day you're going to have to touch someone for a change."

I pulled his cock from my mouth with a pop that, luckily, he covered with another throat-clearing cough.

I looked up at him.

His face was contorted, his lips white from pressing them together so hard, his glasses askew.

I took him into my mouth again, deeper.

I felt the tip touch my throat and gagged a little, but held it back, then did it again, moving up and down with my hand around the base.

With my other hand, I touched myself down there, soaked and slippery, without a shred of shame.

The sound of my breathing seemed deafening.

"And that backpack?" Paulina said. "There's a backpack on the floor."

"A student's. She forgot it."

"First-years are so careless."

Ulises gripped my hair even tighter.

I felt him tense.

His thighs, his stomach, his whole body went rigid, and I knew he was on the edge.

I sped up.

I took him as deep as I could and moaned with my mouth full, and the vibration pulled a hoarse sound from him.

"Ulises."

"What?"

"Your face is red."

"It's the allergies."

"Want me to walk you to the nurse's office?"

"No need," he said in a voice that wasn't his. "I... I feel better now."

He came in my mouth.

It was a hot, thick stream that spilled across my tongue while he muffled a groan against his fist.

I swallowed it all, slowly, without letting him go.

When I finally let him go, my lips were swollen and my knees were raw from rubbing against the floor.

He collapsed into the chair.

Paulina's heels stopped.

"All right. Give me the key."

Ulises took something out of the drawer with a trembling hand.

I heard her take it.

"Thanks. And, Ulises."

"Yeah?"

"Take care of those allergies."

She turned to leave.

I breathed out.

But the heels stopped at the door.

They stayed there, still, for a long second.

"What cute sneakers," Paulina said without turning around. "First-year students' are never this beat-up."

I looked down.

My left sneaker, old, with the yellow lace my mom had sewn on, was sticking out from under the desk.

The door closed.

Ulises and I stared at the lace without speaking.

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