Greek Gods on Campus - Pt. 01

Welcome to the first chapter of an ongoing series about friendship, sex, unrequited love, and Greek gods. There are obviously some fantastical elements to this story, but I hope that the characters are compelling and fun to follow.

Expect a little bit of a slow burn, I like to let my characters breathe a little.

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The trouble started when V entered my life. Which isn't to say that before that everything was perfect. At the time I was a 23 year old graduate student at a West Coast university, a year away from graduating with a master's degree in Greek Culture and Mythology.

You're probably already asking yourself what I planned to do with my very expensive degrees, and the answer was, of course, that I had no idea. Really though, despite that impending time bomb, most of my attention was taken up with the fact that I was head over heels in love with one of my professors. Yeap, that old tired trope.

Professor Jadlowski, called Professor J by everyone, had been my Greek Mythology professor my junior year of college. I'd never really believed those heart-warming tales about that one teacher that could sweep into your life and change your whole outlook. But Professor J did, at least for me. He was an electric story teller, taking myths that were two thousand years old and making them as fresh and alive as anything being told today.

I immediately changed my major. I wanted to become a Classicist like he was. I took several more of his classes, and after getting my Bachelor's degree, I came back for my Master's. Luckily, I was able to worm my way into becoming his graduate student, working with him.

Now, I know you think you know where this is going, but I promise you, it's not. Well, it kind of is, but with enough twists to make Homer proud. Stick with me here.

Was I a stupid lovesick college student? Yes. But in my defense he was fairly young for a professor, in his mid 30s, so I'm not talking about some old lecher and a helpless freshmen here.

At any rate, he was completely oblivious to the fact that I, and probably half the girls in his class, were completely smitten with him. No amount of flirting, batting of eyelashes, or lip biting could send a hint strong enough to break through his impervious shell of innocent amiability.

He bounced happily through the world with a child-like earnestness that would have been insufferable on anyone else. The idea that humans were anything less than honest and good seemed to never occur to him. Ironic, considering the Greek myths we studied were full of absolute depravity.

He was a contradiction, to me at least. Brilliant and inspiring, but frustratingly obtuse. He also seemed to be completely clueless about his own good looks. Tall and lean, with a disheveled mop of brown hair atop his head. His best feature, to me, were his eyes. A stormy blue-grey, they radiated brilliance and kindness. Whenever he shone them on me, I could feel myself melt.

He wasn't particularly fashionable. His wardrobe was decidedly old-fashioned - perhaps chosen to fit in better with his older colleagues. He could, however, pull off the stereotypical jacket with elbow patches, which he would wear unironically. In fact, he never did anything ironically, and was never sarcastic. Like I said, annoyingly earnest.

As his graduate student I took care of his papers and schedule, all the things needed to keep the office of a hapless genius ticking along. He'd given me a desk in his office to work from, which I positioned strategically behind him so I could stare at him to my heart's desire without him noticing.

So, after two years as his student and another year as his graduate assistant, I was no closer to claiming his love than when I started. The most I had accomplished was sharing a workspace with him.

It was deeply frustrating, as you can imagine. Made worse by the fact that I had largely kept myself celibate during my long anabasis for his affection.

I didn't think of myself as unattractive, per se. Anyone looking at me would see a fairly inconspicuous girl of average height, with auburn hair and a large pair of glasses perched on her face. I might pass as cute on a good day. Certainly not sexy, hot, or beautiful. My one and only ex-boyfriend had once described me as "mousey", a term I think he meant affectionately, but which I hated.

My only real ace in the hole was that I was slim - despite my terrible diet of takeout and microwaved dinners. I can only attribute it to my bad habit of getting absorbed in things and missing meals. At any rate, my slim physique also meant that my breasts were small, which was a source of great insecurity for me. To be honest, I didn't really even need to wear a bra (there wasn't enough there to need support) but I wore one anyway to keep my nipples from poking through my shirt.

A bolder girl might have forgone the bra and watched for how the Professor reacted, but alas that was not me. In fact, I'd hardly even hinted at my feelings towards him in all those years, not that he would have picked up the hint anyway. As long as I didn't take my shot, he couldn't reject me. Nor could I make any progress. So I trundled on in tortured proximity to the man I loved more dearly than anything, unable to so much as reach out and take his hand.

I'd had a few dates here and there in that time, but going any further than that seemed somehow like cheating on him. Or at least, the imaginary version of him that inhabited my fantasies and returned my love. Occasionally my frustration would boil over and I'd touch myself, imagining him on top of me.

It was one of those kind of days when it all started. I was at my desk, imagining the Professor on his knees under my desk, kissing his way up my legs and licking my aching pussy when-

"Katie!" He called from behind me.

I nearly jumped out of my seat, my daydream shattered. I whipped my head around to find him standing about three feet behind me. For a second I worried that he had somehow sensed that I was fantasizing about him, but his face wore the same carefree boyish smile as always - blissfully unaware that moments ago his imaginary counterpart had his tongue buried in my pussy.

"Drifting out of time and space, eh?" He said amiably.

"Something like that," I said, chuckling nervously. He gave a short laugh as well.

A moment of awkward silence fell between us. Me looking up at him with barely disguised adoration, and him back at me with his twinkling blue eyes. His hair was a ruffled mess, as usual. Uhg, irresistible.

"Can I help you with something?" I said to break the silence.

"Oh! Yes, right," he said. "Almost forgot why I came over here in the first place. I'm about to head to the lecture hall, but I forgot some papers I need in my car. I don't suppose I could ask you to run out to my car and grab them for me?"

"Of course," I said, always eager to please him.

"Great!" He beamed. He patted down the various pockets of his jacket and pants until he found his keys. Fishing them out of his pocket, he placed them in my hands. They were warm from his body heat, which gave me the slightest of thrills. God, I'm pathetic, I thought to myself.

He explained which car was his and where his parking spot was - all of which I already knew, but I nodded along like it was new information anyway.

"Thanks Katie. I owe you one," he said, turning to leave.

"I think you owe me a million by now," I called after him.

He laughed. "Probably true!" And headed off down the hall.

________________

The professor drove an old red Ford Bronco that looked ready to give up the ghost any day now. The paint on the roof had faded into a dull pink from sun damage, and was peeling off in little slivers.

I slipped the key into the lock and opened the passenger side door. The interior of his car was as messy as his office. Piles of paper filled the passenger footwell and his backseat. Books, scraps of paper, and discarded fast food wrappers were strewn about the cabin. I sighed. Finding the papers he needed was going to be a pain in the ass.

I rifled through the nearest stack of papers, then a satchel filled with more paperwork. Setting those aside, I uncovered a black drawstring backpack. Absentmindedly, I pulled the bag open. Immediately I was hit by a powerful but familiar scent. I looked down into the bag. It was his gym pack, and on top lay his sweaty workout shirt. I had gotten short whiffs of his scent over the years, but nothing even close to this concentrated onslaught. The car filled with the smell of him. He must have just worked out this morning, I thought to myself.

Almost immediately the pheromones in his sweat activated something inside of me. I felt my breathing grow heavier and my heartbeat speed up. My vagina, muddled and confused, went straight to action stations.

I let the scent fill my nostrils. It was intoxicating. Once I had read about an experiment where scientists gave women the sweaty shirts of various men and asked them to rate how attractive they thought they were. Interestingly, women were able to identify family members, ranking them near the bottom while the most attractive scents happened to be the best genetic matches for them.

If that was true, Professor J was my match made in heaven, and I was on cloud nine, breathing in his pheromones.

I looked at the clock in the center console for the time. It was clearly broken, reading 8:88, so I checked my phone instead. Fifteen minutes until he started his lecture. I had time.

I crawled into the backseat with the gym bag, shutting the door behind me. I knew I had to work fast, there was no time to go slow and sensitive. I kicked off my shoes and pulled off my jeans and panties as best I could in the cramped confines of the cabin.

A quick peek out the windows confirmed that, for the moment, no one looked liable to approach the car. I settled into the back seat, bottomless, my pussy already wet. Good, I don't have time to get warmed up.

Grabbing the shirt out of the bag, I held it to my face with one hand, while my other slid down between my legs. I ran the tips of my index and middle fingers along the inside of my plump lips. My body had already produced all the lubricant I needed. I slid my fingers up to my clit. I took a long whiff of the shirt, the smell of him filling my lungs. My heartbeat quickened to a galloping beat, the smell of his sweat acting like a drug on my system.

I felt my clit swell beneath my fingers, blood rushing to the area. I exhaled heavily through my mouth, using my nose to inhale more of his musk.

I closed my eyes. In my mind I was on my back, with him atop of me. The car filled with heat from our bodies, the windows fogging over. Sweat dripped off our bodies, his chest was pressed against mine, my legs wrapped around his back as he slid himself into me with desperate stuttering thrusts.

I rolled my fingers over my bud to the rhythm of his thrusts. He pushed into me faster and faster, filling me up. Oh god it felt so good.

"Cum," I whisper to him breathily. "Cum in me."

I felt his cock expand and then the warm flood of his seed inside of me. Yes. Yes. Give it all to me. I grabbed onto his butt and pulled him in, plunging him deep into me to deposit all of it into my womb.

The thought triggered my climax. Pulsing waves of pleasure radiated up through me, growing stronger and stronger. I felt my pelvic muscles contract violently. I went tense as the orgasm rushed through my entire body.

I sighed and went limp. With difficulty I forced my eyes open. I was alone in the Bronco once more. I looked down at myself. My hand shimmered with my juices. Some had dribbled down onto the seat. Oops.

I looked at my phone. Shit. Fuck. His lecture started in five minutes and I still hadn't even found the papers I was looking for yet. Alternating between muttering shits and fucks (plus one son of a bitch when I banged my head on the roof of the car) I desperately pulled my pants back on and combed through all of Professor J's junk.

After an anxiety provoking minute I found the stack I was looking for. Holding them aloft in triumph, I let out a victorious cry.

Scrambling out of the car, I made my way through the throng of students to his lecture hall, mentally counting down the seconds until I'd be late.

The reality is, if I didn't turn up with the papers at all it would be, at worst, a minor inconvenience for him, but I was so determined to please him that the errand had taken on a monumental importance in my mind.

I reached the side door to the stage of the lecture hall and pulled it open with more force than I intended. The Professor had already begun his lecture, but stopped abruptly as I burst onto the stage with him. Hundreds of eyes turned to me from the students filling the seats that curved upward around the lecture stage like an amphitheater. I stood there, sweaty and panting from my sprint across campus.

The Professor turned to me, not at all put out by the interruption. "Oh, thank you Katie," he said. He regarded me with his warm but steady gaze as he took the disheveled stack of papers that I thrust towards him. I nodded weakly, too out of breath to speak. I stood there, transfixed to the spot, lost in the storm of his eyes.

After a moment, I blinked myself out of my reverie and slunk off the stage, heading to the back of the lecture hall where the air conditioning was strongest and I'd be out of sight of the students.

The last two rows were entirely empty and I plopped down in a seat near the back corner to catch my breath. Professor J had resumed his lecture, and most of his students listened intently, with the exception of one boy a few rows down from me whose entire concentration was taken up with doodling what appeared to be a snake with enormous tits. I rolled my eyes.

I heard the door at the back of the lecture hall open and a moment later someone sat down behind me and to my left. I glanced up at the newcomer, and had to physically prevent myself from doing a double take.

She had pale skin and glossy dark hair, banded by an elegant silver headband. Her eyes were large and expressive. A long smile graced her full red lips. There was a timeless beauty about her, like she could have belonged in any period. Only her tiny silver nose ring marked her as a member of the 21st century.

Even through her plain black T-shirt and jean shorts I could see that she had curves in all the places I didn't - that hourglass figure so many wanted but so few could achieve. To be honest, she was perhaps the most stunning woman I had ever seen. I reasoned that she couldn't possibly have been one of Professor J's students, it would have been hard to miss her.

I realized that I had begun to stare, and looked away quickly before she noticed. On stage, Professor J was pacing and gesticulating enthusiastically while explaining some obscure point of Greek mythology that only he could get so excited about.

From behind me, I heard the woman say, "He's kind of cute, in a boyish sort of way."

I turned my head halfway back towards her, inspecting her from the edge of my vision, unsure if she was talking to me or herself. She was watching the Professor with one eyebrow raised.

It's embarrassing to admit, but I was immediately jealous. If there ever was someone who could catch the Professor's eye, it was her.

She looked over at me, and seemed to sense my thoughts. She quickly added, "Not that I'd ever make a pass at him."

"Oh?" I said lamely.

"Professor Clueless might not see it, but I can recognize a lovestruck look when I see one." She gave me a wink. I blushed, imagining myself in my usual spot at the front corner of the lecture hall, staring longingly at the professor while the rest of the students elbowed each other and sniggered at the pathetic lovesick assistant.

"Mind if I sit here?" She asked, already clambering down into the seat next to me without waiting for an answer.

"Sorry, I don't think we've met," I said.

"Oh, I'm V. I work as an assistant to the chair of the Archeology department," she said, extending a hand that I took limply. A beaming smile was now on her lips.

"Just V?" I asked.

"Oh well, I've got one of those long complicated Greek names, so I usually just go by V," she said dismissively.

"I'm actually quite fluent in Greek - well, ancient Greek-"

"I know," she interrupted, "and that's precisely why I came here to find you today."

I furrowed my brow. Every time I thought I'd caught up with the conversation she tossed a new curveball my way. Seeing my puzzled look, she continued.

"I have a very exciting project I'm working on that requires two experts in Greek mythology - yourself," she said, laying a warm hand on my blouse, "and Professor J."

My heart quickened, and my imagination immediately got to work generating fantasies of Professor J and I, locked away in study, sharing notes and working side by side, our bodies almost touching-

I realized V was still talking and I had missed much of her ensuing explanation while floating through my daydream.

"-someone from the field team found it, brought it to me for documenting, and now I need you and the Professor to help me understand what it says." I furrowed my brow in pretend contemplation and nodded, having no idea what I was nodding along to.

"And, of course, it would be a great chance for you and the Professor to have some quality time together," she said conspiratorially, the corner of her mouth curling up into a mischievous grin.

The daydreams began to dance back into my mind's eye. I shook them away.

"I'll come by your office later and bring the artifact so you can examine it," she said, standing up and heading towards the back door of the lecture hall.

"Oh, okay," I stammered. Artifact? What artifact?

True to her word, a few hours later V came by our office. Peeking her head inside, she saw me and grinned.

Professor J was typing away at his computer and didn't notice V until she'd advanced halfway into the room.

"Oh hello," he said. I sprang out of my seat to interject myself between the two of them.

"Ahem, Professor this is V, she works in the archeology department. V, this is Professor J.""

"Nice to meet you," he said, standing up and reaching past me to shake her hand.

"V told me earlier she had an artifact she wanted your opinion on," I continued.

"Oh really?" He said, obviously intrigued.

"Very nice to meet you," V said, showering both of us with her bright smile. "Yes, the artifact is right here."

She produced a square wooden box and brought it over to my desk. There, she carefully set it down and removed the lid. The Professor and I crowded in to see. Carefully secured inside was a large brass necklace, covered in intricate carvings.

"Incredible," the Professor said.

"We were able to translate a few of the markings," V said. "But not enough to determine its purpose."

By this point the Professor had crouched down to eye level with the pendant, drawing his face as close to it as he could without touching it.

"Note the shell shape of the pendant," he said, circling around the perimeter of the piece. "Here, I see what looks like a nude woman. It could be a coincidence, but together it might suggest this piece was associated with Aphrodite."

V clapped her hands together. "How exciting! I knew bringing this to you two was a good idea."

The Professor stood up. "Of course, it will take a lot more work to examine and translate everything."

"Does this mean you're interested in the project?" V said.

"Absolutely," the Professor said, his eyes twinkling their stormy blue.

Smiling broadly, V put a hand on each of our shoulders. "This is going to be fun," she said.

If I'd had any apprehensions about the Professor working with V, I need not have. As beautiful, charming, and intelligent as she was, the puzzle she'd presented us with was far more attractive to him. He treated her with the same platonic benevolence that I received, which was something of a relief - at least it wasn't just me.

V, on the other hand, was a shameless flirt, engaging in playful banter with just about every man or woman who stopped by the office. She giggled at a lame pun from the delivery driver, gushed over the outfit of a female student, and complimented the tattoos of the IT guy.

I couldn't tell if any of it meant anything, or if she just enjoyed the passing fancy of flirting with strangers. It was clear she had a way with, well, everyone, and they all seemed enchanted by her. It was no wonder, honestly, because she was gorgeous and a delight to be around.

At any rate, when we weren't engaged in our other duties and classes, we huddled in the Professor's office, working on deciphering the strange carvings on the pendant. The number of reference books on our desks grew until there was no free space left, and we began to pile them in stacks on the floor.

Sometimes V would disappear for short stretches, begging off with a vague excuse, leaving the Professor and I to work alone together. I don't know if she was inventing opportunities for the two of us to have time together, or if she legitimately had other duties. Either way, I was grateful for the time with the Professor all to myself, although, increasingly, I had become so used to her presence that her absence felt strange.

The Professor remained as romantically aloof as ever, but it felt good to work with him on something more substantial than his grading schedule and the other administrative bullshit the university made us deal with. I had always been one of his best students, but now we worked together as equals. The Professor could have probably handled the project on his own, but progress would surely have been far slower without my assistance.

V mostly listened in companionable silence, or acted as a sounding board that we could bounce theories off of. She seemed to also have a particular knack for throwing a fresh idea out when we had become stuck or reached a dead end.

On one particular day we had indeed been stuck trying to decipher the meaning of a certain passage. The Professor and I had been banging our heads against the problem for hours, to no avail. Unfortunately, V was off flirting elsewhere that day, so there was no third party to interject a fresh perspective into the matter.

We were both at our desks, heads hanging wearily over our respective books, idly flipping through them, looking for any useful information. I flipped another page, when suddenly my instinct signaled to me that I had missed something.

Flipping back to the previous page I narrowed my eyes, reading the passage carefully. Aha!

"I found something!" I shouted excitedly, standing upright and sending my office chair rolling away. "Look," I said, pointing to the book.

The Professor, infected by my enthusiasm, hustled over. He sidled up behind me, looking over my hunched shoulder at the passage I had marked with my finger.

Instantly, my excitement over my discovery was distracted by his proximity. He was so close I could smell his deodorant, trying but failing to mask his scent lingering underneath.

The response from my body was Pavlovian. I could feel my blood quickening. Hormones flooded my system, preparing every part of my body for intimacy.

His body was so close that I could sense his electrical field as it intermingled with mine. All I would have to do is push my hips back ever so slightly to brush my butt up against his groin.

If he didn't pull away, I would wait a moment, then do it again so that he knew the first time wasn't an accident. I'd turn my head so he could see the mischievous grin on my face.

Luxuriantly, I'd stretch my back and then lean forward, elbows on the desk, letting him get a good look at the shape of my ass through my skirt. Then, arching my back, I could push it up against him again, grinding rather than brushing against him this time.

As I ground my butt against him, I'd feel his manhood stir and harden until it became a pole for me to slide between my cheeks. My panties would be wet by now, and I would flip up my skirt so that his gaze could follow the pink string threading between my cheeks. Below my panties would be dark from excitement, the material just barely concealing my wet lips.

By now he'd be breathing heavily. Smiling, I'd turn my head to look at him over my shoulder. Reaching back, I'd take hold of his zipper and pull it downwards, then reach inside his pants. With a firm grip I'd take hold of his hard cock, freeing it from his pants.

With my other hand I'd pull my panties to the side, revealing my pussy, ready to greedily devour him.

I'd pull him towards me, my hand on his shaft. The first gentle swipe along my lips would send electricity through my body, my most fervent desire finally coming true.

I'd use his cock like a paintbrush, running it up and down my slit, feeling it brush over my clit and then up to the entrance, pausing against the hole that both he and I now desperately wanted him to plunge into. But not yet, instead one more pass up and down, my honey collecting on the throbbing head of his cock.

Finally, reaching my entrance, I'd stop his cock there, my muscles ready to swallow all of him. Then I'd push my hips back into him, feeling the swollen head of his cock slowly stretch me as it pushed inside. I'd gasp in pleasure, taking him inch by inch until he was all the way inside me.

I'd stay there for a moment, savoring the feeling of being completely filled by the man I loved more than anything. Then I'd pull my hips forward, feeling the top of cock slide against the wall of my pussy, sending ripples of pleasure through me.

I'd feel my clit swell even further, almost throbbing with blood. Using one hand to steady myself against the desk, I'd reach down with my other, gently running my fingers over my plump clit, adding a keen edge to the deep rolling pleasure of his cock sliding inside me.

Throwing his head back and biting his lips, the slow slide in and out of me wouldn't be enough. He would need to go harder, faster. He'd grab me by my waist, thrusting all of himself inside me, his hips slamming against my rippling ass. I'd gasp in pleasure.

Quicker now, he'd pump himself inside of me, pulling nearly all the way out and then thrusting as deep as he could go. I'd extend my fingers, using the flat underside of them to give myself a harder surface with which to rub against my clit, matching time with his thrusts.

The rhythmic pulsing of him inside me, mixed with the increased pressure against my clit would send me over the edge. I'd cry out, my legs shaking and my vaginal muscles clenching around his slippery cock in time with each wave of pleasure.

An involuntary laugh of relief would slip from my lips as my orgasm faded, leaving me in its glowing aftermath. He'd reach down, one hand on my waist, and the other on my chest, pulling me upright against him, my back arched and hips rolled backwards against him. In my ear I'd hear his heavy breathing, his hand gripping my breast. I'd hear his hips slapping against me in short, fast thrusts.

He'd lose control, pushing me down against the desk and sending our papers tumbling onto the floor. His hand in the small of my back as leverage as he pounded me, each thrust rocking the entire desk forward and back.

He'd reach a fever pitch, the slap of him against my backside turning into an almost unbroken sound. I'd feel the head of his cock expand and then with one final thrust he'd send himself as deep as he could inside of me. I'd feel his hot cum coat the walls of my pussy as his cock pulsed violently. For a long while we'd stay there, him all the way inside of me, basking in each other's warmth.

I'd lay there, sprawled on the desk, panting in satisfaction. My stretched panties struggling to slip back into position and pooling with his cum.

All of this flashed through my mind in the time it took for him to read the passage I was marking with my finger. The only thing I needed to do to make this fantasy a reality was to push my hips back into him. All he would have to do is not back away.

My resistance to the temptation crumbled as excitement took over. All I wanted now was to have him. I should brush my ass against him. I will brush my ass against him. It was inevitable now, out of my control.

He stepped back, having finished reading the passage.

"Great job, Katie," he said, clasping me on the shoulder. "Excellent find."

He walked back to his desk, each footstep a death knell to my desires. I slumped back down into my chair, furious with myself for not acting sooner.

I continued to curse myself throughout the day until, by stages, I convinced myself that it was a good thing I hadn't made a move. I told myself that he probably would have backed away and laughed it off as an honest mistake, leaving me mortified. I shook my head, trying to erase the entire episode from my mind like an etch-a-sketch.

Time flew by, and I honestly can't recall how many weeks we spent engrossed in the mystery. Eventually, however, we reached a point where, after double-checking our work, we felt that we understood all the pendant's secrets.

"It's a love ritual," the Professor said, pacing back and forth in front of the pendant.

V and I sat at my desk facing him, acting as his audience as he presented the sum of our findings. This would be the first time that any of us had articulated the entire thing at once.

"Essentially, the pendant itself acts as a sort of focal point for the ritual. Aphrodite, engraved here as you can see, is the primary goddess associated with the artifact and stands in judgement of the supplicant's request."

"The etchings contain the instructions for the ritual itself, which involves a brass bowl, the blood of an animal or other ritual sacrifice, and a precise series of incantations that the priestess would speak. This would invoke Aphrodite to take favor upon the poor soul and grant them some boon in their romantic or sexual life."

He turned to face us, his face brimming with satisfaction.

"Do you have any idea how rare this is? To find the details of the actual rituals performed in ancient Greece. Most of these were closely guarded secrets passed from priest or priestess orally down to their successor, and never written down."

He clasped his hands together in front of him. "When we publish this, it's going to make major waves in classical academia."

"We?" I asked.

"Well, you were instrumental in helping to decipher this Katie. Of course I'm going to include you as a co-author of our findings."

I suppressed a girlish squeal of excitement and settled for a broad pleased grin.

I'm sure to the layman this would seem like a really boring thing to be excited about, but in academia the motto is 'publish or die', and this pendant could be a career maker for someone trying to get their foot in the door. Like yours truly.

V clapped her hands together. "We should celebrate!" She looked eagerly at me and the Professor.

"Oh. Actually, the University History Association has a board meeting tonight that I'm chairing, so I'm afraid I can't," the Professor said.

V rolled her eyes. "Come on Katie, we'll find something fun for us girls to do."

She linked her arm with mine and directed me out the door, turning to stick her tongue out the Professor playfully as we left.

We walked down the hall, her arm in mine while she pontificated aloud about how to celebrate. I, meanwhile, focused on the warmth of her arm against mine and the easy manner in which she showed physical affection for others. She had none of the anxiety about physical contact that seemed to paralyze our generation.

Some of her confidence must have been rubbing off on me as well. I strode with her through the throngs of students, her arm in mine feeling perfectly natural.

"Oh, I know!" She said excitedly. "A spa day!"

"Like the place where they put cucumber slices on your eyes?" I asked.

"Well, that's part of it- wait, have you never been to the spa?" She asked, stopping in her tracks to look at me.

I shrugged. "I mean, university has been pretty busy..."

She seemed appalled. "How you've survived this long is truly a miracle, you poor thing," she said. "We're going - my treat. You're going to love it."

I doubted that, but didn't want to disappoint her. She gave me directions to the spa with instructions to meet her there in an hour.

I arrived at the spa, a large but relatively nondescript white stucco building, to see V standing outside the door.

She smiled and ushered me inside. The employee in the reception area welcomed V by name and told her she could head back to the locker room. How often does she come here? I wondered to myself.

We walked along a hallway of alternating black and white tile patterns until we came to the women's locker room. V chose a wooden locker and I meekly picked my own around the corner from hers. Inside was a long white robe made of soft towel-like material.

I glanced back around the corner. V had already completely undressed. Her dark hair hung over the creamy skin of her back. She stood poised with her weight on one leg, her ample hips cocked to the side and firm butt askew as she folded her clothes and put them in the locker.

It was hard to look away. I forced myself to avert my gaze and began undressing myself quickly, hoping to slip into the robe before V finished and saw my own pitiful physique.

I threw my clothes haphazardly into the locker, yanked the robe off its hook, and swung it around behind me like a cape, slipping my arms inside.

V came around the corner, her robe securely tied, just as I finished crossing mine over my chest.

"Ready?" She asked, smiling brightly. I nodded, grabbed my robe's belt and quickly twisted it into a knot. She led me down another corridor, having seemingly memorized the labyrinthine layout of the place.

"We're starting with a massage to loosen things up," she said. "I've set you up with Sven, he's great."

I'd never gotten a massage before, and the idea of a stranger fondling my body was terrifying. Nonetheless, I followed her lead, and soon we were laying face down on massage tables, a few feet from each other.

The door opened and two men entered the room. Sven looked like he could have walked straight off a Viking longship, if not for the white spa employee uniform that he wore. The other masseuse was a Latino man with an easy smile, who went to work on V.

On top of my other anxieties, I now worried that the hulking Sven would literally snap me in half. However, despite his size, Sven was in full control of his strength and knew when to go gently and when to dig in. I hadn't realized how tense my back had gotten from weeks of hunching over books, but Sven quickly set to work ironing out the knots in my back while I exhaled pain and relief.

To my right V was getting oil applied to her back and legs by her masseuse. They chatted quietly with each other, their words a low murmur except for the occasional flirtatious giggle from V.

Afterwards, oiled and straightened out, I did indeed feel nice and loose, as V had promised. Clearly she knew what she was doing and I decided to put my trust in her self-care routine.

Next we headed over to the pool and sauna area, which was largely empty. V selected a sauna and pulled open the heavy wooden door. A blast of heat hit me directly in the face.

She stepped in, and I followed. Tiered wooden benches rose around the entrance like a small auditorium. She cranked a series of knobs built into a silver metal panel near the door. Warm, humid air began issuing from an unseen source and within moments, wisps of visible steam could be seen flitting around the room.

I selected a spot on the lowest tier of benches, sitting there awkwardly, already feeling overheated in my robe. Satisfied with the sauna settings, V turned and sauntered over to my spot. Without hesitation she untied the belt and slipped out of her robe, tossing it onto the bench.

I was faced with the full glory of her naked body, directly in front of me. Her curves, no longer hidden by her clothes, were tantalizing. Her breasts were big for her frame, dotted with two large nipples, barely a shade darker than her pale skin. Her hips were wide, supporting her firm but substantial butt.

Most astonishing was her large, untrimmed shock of curly black pubic hair that covered her groin and trailed off onto the folds of her legs.

Since I was a teenager I had religiously shaved off all of my own pubic hair, as I assumed most women did. It was a ritual I hated, but felt was expected. After all, the women in adult movies always shaved themselves totally bare, right?

She sat next to me, her right leg briefly brushing against mine. The steam had really begun to collect now, and she closed her eyes, enjoying the heat and moisture against her skin. She leaned back against the bench above us, raising her arms and stretching like a cat.

Matching her bush was a patch of long dark hair under each armpit. I blinked in surprise yet again. I had at least heard of letting pubic hair grow, but had never seen a woman let her underarm hair grow freely like this. By its length it seemed like it hadn't been shaved in years.

"Katie, you still have your robe on," she said without opening her eyes. I had been too busy admiring V's body to reckon with the fact that I too would now need to disrobe. Suddenly I felt like I had a rock in my stomach.

V cracked one eye open to check on me. I took a deep breath, willing myself to muster a fraction of her confidence for myself. Here goes nothing.

Trying to get it over as quickly as possible, I stood up, pulled the knot of my robe open, and disrobed in one jerky motion, throwing it onto the bench.

Before I could return to the bench, I met V's gaze. Both of her eyes were open now, regarding me kindly. She sat up from her reclining position.

"Oh Katie, you're beautiful."

I looked down at myself, the small swell of my breasts and bare pubic mound the only curves on my otherwise flat body.

"Not like you," I said, my cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "You're confident and sexy and I'm just-"

"Beautiful," she said again, gently but firmly.

I smiled and chuckled once. Her smile grew broader. "If you say so, sexy." I said.

"I do, beautiful."

I returned to the bench, my self confidence bolstered immensely by V's compliment. I too began to enjoy the heat on my naked body and I lounged back like she did, our eyes closed and mouths stretched in contented smiles as steam swirled around us.

"V, can I ask you something?" I said hesitantly.

"Anything, my dear," she said.

"Why don't you, uh shave, down there?"

She looked at me with one raised eyebrow. "Down where?"

"You know-" I blushed, ready to drop the whole thing.

"I'm just teasing you," she said playfully. "Let me answer with a question: why should I?"

"Well, uh..." I couldn't think of a reason beyond the fact that most everyone else did.

Seeing that I was stumped, she said, "Women have hair, it's perfectly natural. What's unnatural is shaving it all off, don't you think?"

I thought about it for a moment, and nodded. She turned her head and closed her eyes again.

"Besides, the boys like it," she added as an after thought.

"No they don't!" I exclaimed.

"They do!" She insisted. "The greatest seductresses in history had hair down there. Do you think Olympias was shaving her hoohaw while she was sleeping her way to the top and carrying the world's greatest conqueror in her womb? Not a chance."

I chuckled.

"And Cleopatra?" She continued. "The carpet definitely matched the drapes there. And don't even get me started on Helen of Troy. The face that launched a thousand ships? More like the bush that launched a thousand ships."

I burst out laughing, and V joined me.

The conversation drifted away and we returned to quietly enjoying the steam. Eventually the heat grew too much and, dripping with sweat, we gathered our robes and made for the exit. Cracking the sauna door was like opening an airlock to another planet. A delicious wave of cool air swept over us. Holding our robes against us, we scampered over the cold tile floor to the pool 20 feet away. V dropped her robe at the edge of the pool and dove in headfirst.

I hesitated for a moment, then dove feet first into the deepest part of the pool. The cold water hit my system like a shock. Every cell in my body cried out in confusion as heat was doused with cold. My head broke the surface of the pool, cold water streaming over my eyes, a high pitched inarticulate groan coming from my chest. V was a few feet away making her own sounds of regret. Soon we were hooting at the cold and laughing together.

The cold pool was just too much, and we could only stand it for a few minutes before electing to switch to the hot tub. We climbed out of the pool, every inch of our skin covered in goosebumps, nipples hard enough to cut steel. With relief we plunged up to our necks in the warm hot tub water, like Goldilocks having finally found the temperature that was just right. We relaxed there for a long while.

By the time we were finished at this spa, dusk was approaching. V suggested that we head back to my apartment for a nightcap. She volunteered to pick up a couple bottles of wine and meet me there.

I rarely had company over and my apartment wasn't in tip top shape, to say the least. I sped back to my apartment, determined to get there before V and wrangle the mess as best I could.

I arrived home and rushed inside. I quickly gathered my scattered clothes from the various rooms and herded them into 'clean', 'dirty', and 'unsure' piles on the floor of my bedroom. The dishes in the sink I haphazardly dumped into the dishwasher to deal with later. I was tossing the last of some scattered junk into a trash bag when I heard her knock at the door. I shoved the trash bag under the sink and scurried over to answer the door.

I pulled the door open and V was standing at the threshold, holding up several bottles of wine triumphantly.

"I've got the good stuff!" She said. I had no idea what good wine was, so I took her word for it. Aside from the wine, she also had a large tote bag hanging from one arm.

I relieved her of the wine bottles, bringing them to the kitchen. V made herself at home on my couch while I rustled through my drawers looking for a corkscrew to open the wine with. Finally, I found one nestled in the back of my silverware drawer. I didn't own any wine glasses, so after popping a bottle open I poured its dark red contents into two coffee cups and brought them to the living room.

V accepted hers gratefully, not commenting on my ersatz wine glasses.

We fell into easy conversation. Talking to V was always easy. In fact, it was one of the things I liked most about her. Despite her beauty, she had no pretensions that she was better than others. She'd strike up a conversation with anyone, and invariably end up with her chin resting in her hand, leaning in to listen, and smiling. It made you feel like you had her complete attention, and it felt amazing.

I was also now discovering that she was a prolific drinker. Before I'd gotten even halfway through my first glass she was heading to the kitchen to pour herself another. Soon, the bottles were brought out to the coffee table so she could refill her glass without getting up.

I did my best to keep pace, but as I finished my second glass she was already on her fifth. I don't know how she did it. I sipped on my wine, but she drank it down in gulps like it was grape juice.

Our conversation grew louder and more raucous as the wine disappeared.

"Okay okay okay," V said, putting her hands out like a conductor halting an orchestra. "So tell me about this boyfriend you had. His name was..."

"Craig," I said, humoring her.

"Okay, Craig. And how long ago did you date Craig?"

"Well, uh," I did the mental math. "Almost four years ago."

"And since then?"

I shook my head. "Not much."

She frowned. "Just pining after the Professor?"

"Yeah..." I said reluctantly.

"No offense Katie, but I think your love life could use a little assistance," she said, standing up. She wobbled her way over to her tote bag, picked it up, and brought it back to the couch with her. She plopped back down, seemingly relieved to not have fallen down on her journey across my living room.

She handed the tote to me, grinning with expectation. I raised an eyebrow. Inside the tote bag was the familiar wooden box of the pendant, a brass bowl, and four candles.

"What the hell is this?" I said incredulously. "V, this isn't supposed to be here!"

"I know, I know," she said, putting her hands up in a mea culpa, although her pleased grin was still plastered all over her face. "Look Katie, you've been pining after the Professor for years now. It's silly, but maybe it'll help, ya know."

"You're out of your mind," I said, laughing.

"Will you try it?" V asked pleadingly, batting her eyelashes. "For me. Pretty please? With a cherry on top."

I sighed. "Okay, maybe."

She squealed in excitement.

"After," I said, holding up a finger, "a few more drinks."

"Great idea," She said happily, refilling our cups. A few more drinks for me meant quite a few more drinks for V, and soon she was roaring drunk, having completely forgotten her surprise.

After that, things became hazy. Some time later I opened my eyes, the ceiling swimming into view. My head was resting on the back corner of the couch and a stream of dried drool had run down the left side of my face. It was still dark outside. My buzz had receded into a pleasant mellow fuzziness, so I reckoned that only a few hours had passed.

Wiping my face, I slowly craned my head back into an upright position. V had fallen asleep against me, the left side of her face resting on my chest. I could hear her gently breathing from her parted lips, the air from her breath blowing a strand of disheveled hair that had fallen into her face.

She looked so peaceful, and I didn't want to disturb her, but I desperately had to pee. I inched myself out from under her, supporting her head with my hands until I could gently lower her onto a couch pillow.

I tiptoed to the bathroom and did my business. I walked back into the living room, intent on returning to my role as V's body pillow, when I spotted the pendant and the ritual materials, totally forgotten during our drinking session.

Maybe it was the wine, or the cloudy logic of someone still shaking off the last dregs of sleep, but before I knew what I was doing I had grabbed the tote bag and retreated to my bedroom.

My foggy brain conjured thoughts of the professor, his dreamy blue eyes regarding me with love. I would give anything for that, I thought.

Quietly I withdrew each item from the bag, carefully setting them on my desk. First, I set the brass bowl in the center, placed the four candles around it, and lit them. I wrapped a spare shirt from the clean pile around my hand so that I could pick up the pendant without getting my skin oils on it. Slowly I raised it above my head and slipped the leather strap over my head until I could lower the pendant gently against my chest.

I looked at myself in the mirror. Something about my wild hair and the gleaming pendant made me feel like an ancient Greek, despite my t-shirt and sweatpants. How many other women had worn this same pendant and yearned for love like I did?

Did the gods grant them their hearts desire? Or did the power of belief lead them to find love on their own?

After years of waiting in vain, I was desperate for anything that could change things, even if it was just a fantasy.

I didn't have an animal to sacrifice, obviously, so my own blood would have to suffice. I retrieved a tack from my desk drawer. Here goes nothing, I thought.

I took a deep breath and pricked the index finger on my left hand. Ow. Immediately blood began to well up from the spot.

Straining my wine-addled brain, I struggled to recall the words that I had spent weeks pouring over. They should have been burned into my brain by this point, but they came to me in slow fragments.

In a whisper I recited the words to the ritual as they came to me, turning my finger so the blood could drip off my finger. Each drop hit the brass bowl, splattering outwards onto the sides of the bowl.

After a halting start, the words started coming back to me and I hit my groove. I praised the gods, offering them this sacrifice, pleading for their aid.

I concluded the ritual. "Let this sacrifice of my blood appease you."

I don't know what I expected to happen, but I stood there, totally still as if some physical phenomenon would confirm my request.

Do I get a ticket number or something?

Of course the night was as still as ever. Feeling foolish, I slipped the pendant off and placed it back into its box, then went to the bathroom to put a band aid on my finger. As I passed through the threshold of the door, I heard it - a strange rumble. At first it was almost imperceptible, but each second it grew stronger until I could feel it in my body. Was it an earthquake? I looked at my shelves. None of my things were moving. Instead it increasingly felt like the vibration was coming from inside me.

The rumbling grew so intense it was becoming painful, overwhelming, excruciating, as if all the atoms of my body would vibrate apart. I stumbled into the bathroom, my face twisted into a grimace in the mirror. What's wrong with me?

Then, as suddenly as it started, the rumbling was gone, replaced by a feeling of pure relief. I shook my head, as if I had just emerged from a bad dream. Any cobwebs from the wine or my sleep were now gone, and I felt totally alert. I looked at myself in the mirror. The distress was gone, replaced by a look of serene curiosity.

What was that?

As I looked at myself in the mirror, I felt a strange feeling settle over me. Then, as clear as day, I had a flash in my mind of hands running through my hair.

Each flash was just a split second, but they seemed so real I could almost feel them. Each time an unseen stranger behind me, caressing me while I watched in the mirror.

His hands sliding up from my hips over my breasts. His lips kissing their way down my neck. His hand reaching down into my panties. Him bending me over the counter.

I was breathing heavily now. The flashes of imagination had stopped, but now more than anything I wanted to touch someone and be touched by them. The thought quickly became all-consuming. I felt the need in every part of me.

My downstairs neighbors must have been feeling similarly, as soon the sounds of moaning and their rocking bed floated up through the floor to my ears.

Normally, hearing my neighbors going at it would be an annoyance, but now it only inflamed my desire further. I remembered V, on my couch. If anyone knew what to do with this feeling, it'd be her.

I scurried out to the living room to see if any of the strange occurrences, or the increasingly loud moans of passion from downstairs, had awoken her. I peered over the couch, and there she lay, blissfully unaware of the wave of desperate horniness that I had unlocked. I guess I'm on my own.

I returned to the bedroom and began pacing as I flipped through my mental Rolodex, trying to think of someone, anyone, that could fulfill this need chewing away inside of me. I considered my candidates. Sven? No, that was stupid. I had no idea where he lived or even any way to contact him. I briefly considered calling my ex-boyfriend, but I hadn't become that desperate yet. Unhelpfully, my mind kept returning back to Professor J, each time unleashing a pang inside me. God I wish I could tear my clothes off and jump on top of him.

Suddenly a new candidate for the popped into my head: my neighbor Erik. I liked Erik, not in a romantic way, all my time and affection was tied up yearning after the Professor. We'd wave to each other in passing and say hello. Once he helped me climb into my window when I locked myself out of the apartment.

He very much embodied the California surfer aesthetic, tanned and toned, with blonde hair that he swept back and left dangling over his neck.

I'd seen him bring girls over from time to time, and based on what I'd seen I doubted I was his type. But desperate times called for desperate measures and the need filling my body seemed to only be growing stronger with every passing minute.

I quickly dashed to my room, looking for something enticing to wear. There weren't many options. Generally when shopping for clothes comfort was my primary consideration.

Digging through the piles of clothes scattered around my bedroom, I found a pair of black workout shorts. They were, at least, tight-fitting and short. They'd have to do.

I didn't really have any shirts that would show off my non-existent cleavage so instead I went for a white shirt, figuring that without a bra on perhaps a hint of my nipples might shine through. What was wrong with me? I never think like this. But overwhelming horniness had short circuited my brain and the only thing that mattered to me at the moment was flying my proverbial plumage to attract a mate.

I shimmied into the workout shorts, pulling them up high so that the seam nestled deep into my butt crack, giving my ass some definition. I pulled my wild hair into a bun and did a quick check in the mirror. I'd fuck me, but then again, at right now I'd fuck just about anything.

The sounds of their rocking bed and moaning were still drifting up from my downstairs neighbor when I stepped out my front door, tiptoeing, for some reason, the twelve feet or so to Erik's door.

Taking a deep breath, I knocked firmly, then stood there, straightening my clothes nervously. Erik answered the door sooner than I expected, and I jumped a little.

He stood there, in shorts and a tank top, looking at me quizzically.

"Katie? What's up? Everything alright?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I just um, hey is anything weird going on over here?" I hadn't really planned on how to initiate this conversation and this was not a particularly sexy start.

"Well," he hesitated, looking down at the ground for a moment, as if deciding what to share with me. "There was this weird, like rumble a little while ago," I nodded, encouraging him to keep going, "and, uh, since then my neighbors have been absolutely going at it, like, hard."

"Mine too!" I said, "it's all I can hear in my apartment."

He laughed. "You think that's bad? I can feel them banging in here."

"What do you mean?"

"Come on," he said, waving me inside. "I'll show you."

Bingo, I thought to myself.

I stepped eagerly into his apartment, trying to look around without seeming to look around. It was a typical apartment of a man in his early 20's, decorated with action movie posters and second hand furniture, but cleaner than I thought it would be. A large blue surfboard was mounted on one wall.

He led the way, motioning me towards the bedroom. As we approached an increasingly loud crashing noise met my ears. He stepped through the threshold of his bedroom and I followed. In here, the noise was unmistakable. His neighbors were fucking loudly, their bed banging against the shared wall. It shook with each impact, accompanied by a woman's voice yelling, "Yes! Yes!"

We looked at each other and burst out laughing.

I don't know if it was the strange mood I was in, but as I watched his eyes crinkle and his shoulders shake with laughter, I found my attraction to him growing even stronger.

Was he feeling the same strange excitement I, and apparently our neighbors, were? I watched him closely. He does seem a bit flushed. Is he breathing a little heavily? Am I imagining it?

Our shared laugh trickled off, and we were left looking at each other. He broke eye contact first, shifting his gaze to his feet for a moment, then smiling and looking back up at me. Oh, come on, no one can resist that! Any last reservations I had about what was about to happen melted away.

"They seem like they're having a good time," I said, biting my lower lip in what I hoped was a seductive manner.

"For sure," he said vaguely. "Do you um-"

"-also want to have a good time?" I said, finishing his sentence for him. For all I knew, he was going to ask me if I wanted a glass of water, but at that moment all I wanted was him, and I couldn't bear to wait any longer.

He smiled and slowly nodded. I nodded back, my eyes gleaming with anticipation.

I stepped forward, and he closed the rest of the distance. Our bodies pressed together lightly, and I placed my hands on his arms, feeling the muscles underneath. He lowered his forehead to rest against mine while his left hand brushed up the side of my neck to cup my face.

Already, I was starting to breathe heavy in excitement. He raised my face to his and pressed his lips against mine. The effect was instantaneous - something within me was unleashed. I pressed back hard, matching the movement of his lips with mine. His lips parted and my tongue made its way into his mouth, where it found its counterpart, wrestling with each other as we tilted our heads to opposite sides to allow our tongues to sink further into each other's mouths.

His right hand moved to my waist and then around to grab my butt cheek, using it as leverage to pull me in closer to his body. I could feel his hard cock through his pants, pressed up against me. My desire for him had become overwhelming.

Panting, I broke the kiss, then peeled my shorts and underwear off, dropping them to the floor and kicking them away with my foot. He looked on, apparently surprised, and made no motion to remove his own shorts. I reached my hands into his waistband and pulled his off as well.

Regaining his rhythm, he reached around my legs, picking me easily up off the floor. I wrapped my legs around his back for balance, my pussy now completely soaked and pressed up against his pelvis.

He carried me the few short steps to the bed and dropped me onto the bouncing mattress, with himself on top of me.

"Let's give them a run for their money," I said, indicating the couple on the other side of the wall. He grinned and kissed me again, then lifted himself upright to pull his tank top off over his head. I took the opportunity to survey my prize.

An array of tanned muscles appeared from under his vanishing tank top, which he whipped off over his head, the muscles in his arms rippling. I couldn't remember the last time I was this hot for anyone.

He looked at me and raised an eyebrow, seeming to say, 'your turn'.

I reached down and gripped the bottom of my shirt, pulling it towards my head as I wriggled to release the fabric under me. After a brief struggle I got the shirt over my head and flung it onto another part of the bed.

I gave him a come hither signal with my index finger and spread my legs wider, my bare pussy dripping with excitement. He grinned and climbed on top of me, his hard cock grinding against me while he kissed his way from my stomach up to my breasts, taking almost my entire right breast in his mouth and flicking my hard nipple with his tongue.

I made a pleased noise and squirmed happily beneath him. He looked down while he took his cock in hand and carefully guided it to my waiting pussy.

I felt the head of his cock slide over my engorged clit, sending a startling wave of pleasure running through me. I gasped slightly. Then he ran his head slowly down my slit, my wet lips parting before it and coating it with my juices. I desperately wanted him to stick it inside me, and I think he could sense my desire.

Skipping any more foreplay, he reached my opening. He gently pushed his hips forward, his now gleaming cock sliding easily inside. I felt my walls stretch and expand to accommodate him as he pushed himself inside. I moaned, my voice catching in my throat.

He pushed his hips forward slowly until he was all the way inside me and his groin pressed up against my pubic mound. Either I had forgotten how good it felt to have a man inside me, or my heightened state of arousal had increased my sensitivity. It felt incredible.

He pulled his hips back, his cock rubbing against my walls as it slid back toward my opening. A warm wave of pleasure washed over me. He pulled back until he was almost completely out, then reversed course and pushed himself back in, a little faster than before.

"Yes," I groaned, encouraging him to do it again. He quickly obliged me, pulling way out then sliding the entire length of him back inside of me. A third time, then a fourth, each faster and a little harder than the one before.

I grabbed onto his toned butt with both hands, pulling his hips into mine to increase the power of his thrusts. With each impact of our hips, his cock slid further and further into me.

"Yes!" I began to shout with each thrust, unconsciously imitating his neighbors.

He was now finding his rhythm, pumping at a steady rate and smiling to himself. I looked down at our bodies moving against one another, his brown tan contrasted against my pale skin. Removing one of my hands from his flexing glut, I brought it up to his chest and ran it down his pecs, then to his abs, feeling the muscles ripple beneath the surface as he pumped his body atop of mine.

He reached down, and entwined his fingers with mine, then suddenly took my arm and pinned it to the bed above my head. I grinned at him and gave him my other hand which joined its counterpart.

With my arms pinned to the bed he now began to truly fuck me, each thrust almost bouncing us apart and swinging the whole bed. The headboard began to crash against the wall in rhythm with us.

He was now moaning between panting breaths, beads of sweat starting to collect on his nose and forehead. I was lost in ecstasy, each thrust propelling his hard cock deep inside me, his groin grinding against my swollen clit.

My eyes rolled back in my head and my moans of "Yes!" grew from a shout into a scream. Soon he was thrusting so fast and hard that it felt like it couldn't go on any longer, we would have to climax soon or our hearts would explode.

I knew he was close, his groans of pleasure changing into a deeper growl and his breaths coming short and fast.

"Cum for me," I said, pleadingly - something I must have picked up from a dirty video, certainly not something I had ever said before.

Almost on command I felt him pull out of me. He hovered above me, face flush, cock in his hand. His balls contracted and I saw the muscles in his cock convulse. A pressurized stream of thick cum issued from his tip, splashing from my tits down to my stomach. Hot on the heels of the first eruption came a second, this landing lower, coating my pubic region and running down over my clit. His third stream of cum dashed onto my already soaking wet pussy. Coated from breast to pussy, I basked in the warm feeling of it on my skin while his muscles relaxed and went limp. I ran my fingers lightly through the mess we had made.

He crashed onto the bed next to me, catching his breath. He may have cum, but I knew that this strange fit of horniness wouldn't pass until I had too. He had already gotten me halfway there from the pressure of his groin against my clit, now I meant to take it the rest of the way.

I rolled over, climbing atop of him. He lifted his head in surprise, his blonde hair splayed over his face and the bed around him. Smiling mischievously, I braced myself with my hands on his abs and began to rock my hips back and forth, making the lightest of contact between my aching pussy and his pelvis. Back and forth my hips rocked, each time allowing my clit a little more pressure as I dragged it across the hard surface of his pelvis. Bursts of pleasure radiated out of my clit with each pass. Already his groin was soaked in my juices, allowing my clit and lips to slide easily against him.

He watched passively, absorbed in watching my body writhe against his, my torso gleaming from sweat and his cum. I ground myself against him, the increasing pleasure making my legs and arms shake. It felt good, so good, but something inside me said it wasn't enough. I needed his tongue.

I looked up, continuing to grind, a predatory look on my face. He continued to watch my gyrating body, enjoying the show - totally unaware of the plans I was hatching for his pretty face.

I stopped my grinding and leaned forward, bringing my mouth to his ear.

"I want you to lick my pussy," I whispered to him. From my peripheral vision I could see his eyes widen.

Not waiting for a response, I lifted myself upright and crept forward, crossing over his arms until I was over his face with him prone beneath me, my glistening pussy inches from his mouth. I gripped the headboard above him with both hands and looked down at him imperiously, waiting impatiently for his assent. I could see his gaze working its way up my body, from my pussy, slick with our combined fluids, to my stomach and breasts, coated in his cum, and finally to my waiting face.

I almost thought I could feel his heartbeat quickening beneath me. He licked his lips and nodded his head a tad downward. That was all I needed.

I lowered myself onto his face, feeling the slippery mess that was my pussy sink onto his mouth and nose. His tongue dashed out and ran across my opening once, twice, and then slid inside. I sank even further onto his face, savoring the feeling of his tongue inside me and moaning deeply. I stayed there for a second, then lifted myself back up. I heard a sharp breath beneath me as I broke the suction, allowing air to return to his lungs.

Now I rotated my hips, sliding my pussy backwards across his extended tongue. I felt his tongue slide along my slit, running against my lips on either side, my honey pooling in the curve of his tongue.

Now his tongue reached the spot I wanted most. Almost afraid of how sensitive it might be, I held my pussy just out of range for a moment, then sank down so that my clit was perfectly positioned over his tongue.

In a broad powerful stroke, his tongue ran from the middle of my lips up and over my clit, the rough texture making every nerve ending sing. I gasped.

I think he was pleased with my reaction, because I felt his lips curl into a smile against me. He repeated his broad slow stroke and a pleading "yeah" issued from my throat, telling him to please, for the love of god, continue.

He got the hint and continued. His flat tongue strokes seemed to reach every crevice of my pussy. I began involuntarily rocking in pleasure against his tongue, my hands gripping the headboard in front of me tightly.

I knew my orgasm would come quickly and hard like this. I had never wanted to cum so badly in my life. I would have given up anything to stay there, with his face buried in my pussy.

The waves of pleasure added to a growing pressure inside me, gaining momentum with each swipe of his tongue. I was getting close.

I ground my pussy down against his tongue, savoring the added pressure against my clit. My body rocked back and forth, beads of his cum snaking down my body.

With a long continuous moan my orgasm arrived. I felt every muscle in my pussy convulse. My legs trembled uncontrollably while my knuckles turned white from gripping the headboard.

For a moment it felt like all the blood had left my head and that I might pass out. The convulsions slowed, sending last echoes of pleasure through me.

Barely able to move, I slid myself off of him, plopping down on the bed by his side. His face and the bedsheets beneath him were absolutely soaked. He looked frazzled but not displeased with himself.

I had never cum so hard in my life. My chest was rising and falling rapidly as I tried to catch my breath.

"Hey," he said, staring up at the ceiling. "Listen, the pounding has stopped."

Sure enough, the neighbors had stopped their lovemaking at some point during our own.

"I think that means we won," I panted out, and we both laughed.

After a short while his breathing changed and I looked over to find Erik asleep with his mouth ajar. With my orgasm, the powerful compulsion that had taken hold of me seemed to be broken, and I could feel myself returning to my baseline state - except, of course, the dopamine flooding my veins from my tryst with Erik.

Attempting to be quiet, I inched off the bed. I gathered up my clothes and tiptoed my way to the en suite bathroom. I shut the door quietly behind me. Turning, I was able to behold myself in the mirror for the first time since I'd left my apartment.

My bun had become partially undone, with rogue strands of hair pointing randomly in all directions. My cheeks were red and flushed with exertion. Rather than passing judgement on myself, I surveyed the spattered mess on my torso with curiosity. I wonder what V would say if she could see me right now. She'd probably give me a high five.

I didn't feel at all ashamed, like I sometimes did after a sexual experience. Instead, I felt powerful. I could never have imagined the old me following her desires like this and making them a reality.

After doing a quick 360 in the mirror for one final look, I toweled myself off and dressed. I exited the bathroom with Erik still dead to the world. I pulled a sheet over his naked snoozing body, and crept out of his apartment.

I opened the door to my apartment to find the couch empty. V, hearing the door open, came barrelling out of my bedroom. Her hair was tossed about and standing up, her eyes wide. It gave her a feral look.

"Katie, what did you do?" She growled. I felt my face drop from the pleased grin to a confused frown.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"The ritual!" she said, pointing towards my bedroom. "You performed it, didn't you?"

I had never seen V upset before. I was suddenly worried.

"Yeah- well, I thought that we were going to do it tonight."

"Yes, together!" She exclaimed, throwing up her hands.

"I don't understand what the big deal is..."

She approached me quickly, her eyes flashing. I had to fight the impulse to back away. She took me by the shoulders.

"Okay, Katie, this is important. I need you to tell me exactly what you said during the ritual."

I was confused, but the grave sincerity in her voice convinced me to follow her lead.

"Okay, um..." I pulled myself out of her grip, and began pacing the living room, rubbing my temple and trying to recall the exact phrases.

V sat on the couch across from me, leaning forward on her knees impatiently. I wanted to give her the right information, so I went slowly, reciting each line that I had spoken to her as she listened intently.

She didn't comment on anything from the beginning of the ritual, but now I felt suddenly sheepish. I really didn't want to have to tell her what my wish had been.

She sensed my hesitation. "Katie, I need you to trust me. This is important."

I sighed, and recounted my wish in my halting Greek. She sprang to her feet.

"Say that again," she said urgently.

I repeated my wish.

"And you said it exactly like that? You're sure?" I nodded.

She dropped her head in her hands in despair.

"What? What is it?" I asked nervously.

"You..." she paused. "Your wish wasn't phrased right. You were trying to ask for love, but wished for lust. And worst of all, you didn't address your wish to Aphrodite, but to the entire pantheon."

She seemed to know more than she was telling me. "V, what the fuck is going on?" I said, annoyed. "What aren't you telling me?"

She was silent for a moment. "Alright, look. There's this old book from the 17th century in the university's special collection about the occult and pagan rituals. I looked into it because of the pendant. I know it sounds stupid, but these things have power if we believe they do."

I was still putting together the implications of this, but already my stomach was sinking.

"I wish you'd waited for me," She groaned. "This could be bad. Really bad."

Almost on cue, my phone rang, startling both of us. I grabbed it from the coffee table and looked at the screen. The Professor was calling me. At this time of night?

I accepted the call and put him on speaker phone. "Professor?" I said.

"Katie! Uh..." He seemed nervous. "I came back to the office after my conference. The pendant is gone and... something really strange is happening here."

"How so?" I asked. "Things have been a bit weird here as well."

"Okay, well," he hesitated. "I just saw a lightning strike hit the quad and a man come out of the smoke... wearing a toga with a big grey beard."

V and I looked at each other. What had I done?