Clara - After Class

The alarm clock screamed at half past six, and Clara swatted at it before it could finish its second beep. She opened her eyes to a gray morning and stared at the ceiling for a moment before forcing herself out of bed. The apartment was quiet--her mother had already left for work, like always. Clara pulled off the tank top she'd slept in and stood naked in front of the bathroom mirror, studying her body with a critical eye.

Her platinum blonde hair had dark roots almost half an inch long. I'll have to go to the salon again, she thought, tucking the hair behind her ears. Her breasts looked good in the morning light--large, firm. She turned around and checked out her ass. A satisfied smile. That was her weapon, and she knew it well.

The shower was quick and cold, just the way she liked it. It woke her up properly. Then the ritual began--makeup. It took her a good twenty minutes to get exactly the layer she wanted on her face. Foundation, powder, contour, eyeliner, three coats of mascara. And finally the red lipstick, loud and provocative. She ran a finger over her lips and blew a kiss to her reflection.

It's going to be a long day, she thought as she put on black lace panties and a bra. She pulled tight black jeans from her wardrobe that fit like a second skin, and a deep V-neck top. A leather jacket on top. She looked in the mirror--she looked exactly the way she wanted. Dangerous, approachable, a little cheap. And that was exactly what drew guys to her like moths to a flame.

Breakfast was quick--coffee and a cigarette on the balcony while she scrolled through Instagram. Eva had posted another perfect photo in a white dress. Bitch, Clara muttered and double tapped to like it, even though it annoyed her. Eva was everything Clara would never be - elegant, educated, too good for their college. Yet she was here with them, because her parents wanted her to attend a university close to home.

Clara finished her cigarette and grabbed her bag. Time to go.

Campus was the same as always -- noisy, crowded, full of immature idiots. Clara walked down the hall and felt the stares. Guys gawked at her, girls whispered. She enjoyed it. At least someone saw her, at least she was the center of attention, even if only for a moment.

Simona was waiting for her by the lockers, the only girl she really talked to. She wasn't a friend in the true sense of the word, more like an ally. They both knew how things worked around here.

They exchanged a few words and headed to class.

The first two lectures were Calculus. Clara sat in the back, drawing spirals in her notebook while the professor explained integrals. It was pointless. She was never going to understand this stuff, and even if she did, what good would it do her? The stress of looming failing grades only caught up with her in the evening, when she was alone. Right now, she looked detached, acting like she was above it all. She convinced herself she'd end up behind some upscale bar or in a manager's office, where her curves would smooth her path to a comfortable life. But deep down, a quiet doubt gnawed at her, wondering if it would really work like that forever.

Tomas stopped her during the break.

"Hey, Clara," he said, leaning against the wall next to her. He was tall, muscular, smelling of the gym and testosterone. Clara knew what he wanted before he even opened his mouth.

"Hey," she replied, giving him one of her looks - the kind that promised everything and nothing at the same time.

"What are you doing after classes today?"

"Nothing yet. Probably dying of boredom."

Tomas smiled that predatory smile of his, the one half the guys on campus wished they had and half the girls fell for. "I could come over."

"And what would we do?" she asked with feigned indifference, even though they both knew the answer.

"Whatever comes to mind," he said, openly trailing his eyes down her cleavage, which was just as cliché as he was.

Clara suppressed a smirk. Tomas was no genius, nor was he particularly entertaining. With him, it was just a mechanical power game. But at least he gave her a sense of dominance - all she had to do was snap her fingers, and the trained dog came running. She could do whatever she wanted with him. And physically, he had no problem keeping up with her demands.

"We'll see, if nothing better comes up," she said provocatively, already turning away, knowing that making him wait would only wind him up more.

Clara marched down the hall, feeling his eyes on her ass. She let her hips sway a little more than necessary.

The rest of the day dragged on endlessly. History, Literature, Physics lectures full of words that blurred into one monotonous stream. Clara thought about the afternoon. Tomas was rough, aggressive, exactly how she liked it. He didn't cuddle her, didn't treat her like something fragile. He treated her like a piece of meat he wanted to fuck, and that honesty and rawness actually suited her.

When the lecture finally ended, Clara shot out of the building like she was fired from a slingshot. She lit a cigarette at the bus stop and waited for her ride. Simona tried to stop her for a quick chat, but Clara blew her off. She wasn't in the mood for small talk.

On the way home, she thought about how to disarm and throw him off balance. Then she got a brilliant idea.

At home, she showered again, thoroughly. She shaved her legs, trimmed her intimate areas. It was a ritual. Even though Tomas wasn't exactly a sensitive lover, Clara liked the control the preparation gave her. It was the moment she reminded herself that what was about to happen was her choice.

She put on red lace panties; she skipped the bra, her breasts held up fine on their own, and it was more arousing this way. She slipped on a pair of high heels, threw a robe over her shoulders, and made herself some coffee.

She waited for a text from Tomas. Then her phone pinged, "10 minutes. Be ready." Clara smiled. First of all, she was always ready, and second, she knew how much he hated waiting and delays.

She looked out the window, waiting to see him approach. When he entered the building, she tossed the robe onto a chair and walked to the front door of her apartment. She opened the door and waited in the frame, wearing nothing but panties and heels.

Tomas stepped out of the elevator and stopped dead in his tracks the second he saw her. "You really are a slut," he muttered, his eyes shining. Clara felt a shiver of arousal run through her. "What can you do," she replied, letting him inside.

The door clicked shut. Clara dropped to her knees and immediately unzipped his jeans. Her other hand slipped straight into his boxers. Tomas let out a heavy sigh. Clara pulled both down below his ass. His cock was already hard, swollen with blood, pulsing with impatience. Clara wrapped her hand around it and took it into her mouth without hesitation. She didn't try any careful teasing with the tip of her tongue; she simply swallowed him whole, until the tip hit the back of her throat.

Tomas hissed and threw his head back, leaning against the door. His hands, which had only been wandering through her hair at first, suddenly dug roughly into it. He gripped her tightly and began setting the rhythm, forcing her to take him deeper than she might have wanted. Tears welled up in Clara's eyes as he pushed into her throat, but she didn't fight back. On the contrary, she sucked harder, swirling her tongue around the sensitive frenulum while squeezing his ass with her other hand.

It went on for several long minutes, the only sounds in the hallway being Clara's wet sucking and Tomas's heavy breathing. She could feel his thighs trembling, feel him getting close to the edge. She didn't let up; instead, she sped up, swallowing him with hungry ferocity. Tomas suddenly went rigid, his fingers gripping her skull almost painfully. Clara felt a hot wave flood her mouth, thick and salty.

When he finished, Clara casually stood up and walked around the corner to the bathroom. Tomas stood leaning against the door, catching his breath. Clara returned to him, slapping his flaccid cock with her hand. "Well, maybe you'll last a bit longer in round two." She squeezed her hand around his cock and pulled him into the apartment. As they passed the door to her bedroom, Tomas threw her a confused look. "Today, you're going to do me in my mom's bed," and she led him further into the master bedroom.

She pulled him to the bed. By then, she could feel his cock starting to respond to her touch again. Clara let go of him and threw herself onto the large bed, scooting into the middle of it. She bent her knees and pushed her panties aside with one hand. "Now it's my turn."

Tomas didn't need to be told twice. He settled between her legs and got to work. Clara lightly rested one leg on his back. Tomas kept going until Clara started writhing and moaning deeply.

"Fuck, yes," she breathed, lifting her hips to meet his mouth. She felt the wetness between her legs turn into a flood.

She reached into the nightstand and pulled out a condom. She handed it to Tomas. He stripped in a flash, rolled the condom on, and threw himself at her. Without much trouble, he slid all the way inside her.

Clara cried out. He was big and hard, taking her roughly and without consideration. He grabbed her wrists and pinned them to her mother's sheets as he began to pound into her rhythmically. The bed creaked beneath them, the old frame protesting the sudden assault of their bodies. Every thrust sent waves of pleasure straight into her spine.

"You whore," Tomas growled through his teeth, picking up the pace. Clara answered only with moans, her body strung tight as a wire. She felt the tension building somewhere deep in her lower belly.

"Turn over," he commanded suddenly, pulling out of her. Clara flipped onto her stomach without hesitation and stuck her ass in the air. Tomas grabbed her hips and slammed back into her, this time from behind. The angle was deeper, more intense. Clara buried her face in the pillow and started screaming.

She didn't last long. The tension inside her grew until it exploded in a destructive wave of orgasm. She collapsed onto the bed, her whole body shaking. Tomas dropped on top of her, thrusting hard a few more times before climaxing with a deep groan.

They lay there for several minutes, exhausted and sweaty. Clara slowly recovered from her orgasm while Tomas took off the condom and tossed it on the floor.

"That was... really good," Tomas mumbled, still breathing heavily as he propped himself up on his elbows to look at all of her. A possessive spark lit up his eyes.

Clara straightened up, immediately put on a cold face, and pointed at the door: "Well, now you can get lost."

Tomas froze, stunned. He hadn't expected her to kick him to the curb in a split second like that. He nodded angrily, threw his clothes on, and went to the door to put his shoes on. As he reached for the handle, Clara slid up to him for a moment and flashed a honey-sweet smile. "Good enough for today, next time I'll set aside a little more time for you." Before he could say anything, she planted a kiss on his cheek. She completely unsettled and dismantled him with that all over again. Tomas slipped out the door, and Clara clicked it shut and locked it behind him with quiet satisfaction.

She walked through the kitchen, glancing at the clock. There was plenty of time to air the place out before her mom got home. She threw on her robe and stepped out onto the balcony with a cigarette. Physically, she felt perfectly satisfied, relaxed. But as the adrenaline faded and she looked down at the dusty cars from the fifth floor, that creeping emptiness washed over her again. Today had been exactly what she needed to clear her head. But tomorrow she'd wake up, and the same routine would start all over again without change.