Do You Want Dessert?
Lunch in the cafeteria always felt the same. Too loud, too crowded, the smell of whatever the kitchen decided was edible that day mixing with a hundred different conversations. I sat at our usual table with the rest of the group, chopsticks in one hand, phone half-buried in my bag under the table. Karina was across from me, legs crossed under the short plaid skirt, navy sweater vest sitting neat over her white shirt. That little bow tie of hers looked almost too proper for the way her long black hair spilled over one shoulder. Sunglasses still perched on top of her head like she’d forgotten they were there.
She was laughing at something one of the girls said, soft and bright, and for a second I just watched her. Best friend. Classmate. The girl who’d been in my life since the first week of college when we both showed up late to the same orientation and ended up sharing notes. Now we shared a lot more than that. Quietly. Carefully. With the rest of the table none the wiser.
I pulled my phone out under the edge of the table and opened our chat.
Dessert?
Three dots appeared almost immediately. She didn’t even look up from her tray.
What kind?
I typed back while pretending to scroll through something boring.
The usual. Hungry for it.
Her eyes flicked to mine for half a second, then away again. A tiny smile curved her mouth before she covered it by taking a sip of her drink.
Meet me after. Don’t take too long.
I finished what was left on my tray in record time, muttered something about needing the bathroom, and stood. Nobody paid attention. They never did. Karina waited a full minute before she followed, collecting her bag and saying she had to grab something from her locker. Classic. We’d done this enough times that the excuses almost wrote themselves.
The hallway outside the cafeteria was quieter. Most people were still eating. I headed straight for the restroom on the far side of the building, the one that stayed emptier during lunch because it was a little out of the way. I pushed the door open, checked the stalls. Empty. Good. I texted her the number and waited just inside, heart already kicking harder than it should for something we’d done before.
She slipped in a minute later, locking the main door behind her with a soft click. That look on her face—half mischief, half need—hit me square in the chest.
“Jihoon,” she whispered, already closing the distance. “You really couldn’t wait until after class?”
“You answered pretty fast for someone who didn’t want it,” I said, voice low. My hands found her waist under the sweater vest, fingers sliding over the soft fabric. “Missed you this morning.”
She huffed a quiet laugh and kissed me, quick and hungry. The bow tie brushed my chin. I backed her toward the nearest stall, the bigger one at the end, and pulled her inside with me. The door shut. Latch clicked. Suddenly the space felt tiny and too loud at the same time—every little sound echoing off the tiles.
“Condom?” she asked against my mouth, already working at my belt.
I froze for half a second, then cursed under my breath. “Forgot. Meant to stop by the store last night.”
Karina pulled back just enough to look at me, dark eyes searching. Then she shrugged, that same soft smile returning. “Okay. Just… pull out. Or don’t. Your call.” Her hands kept moving, tugging my zipper down. “I want you anyway.”
That did it. I kissed her harder, one hand sliding up under the short plaid skirt. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath. Warm, already a little wet when my fingers brushed between her legs. She made a small sound into my mouth and pushed closer.
“Quiet,” I murmured. “Someone could walk in any second.”
“Then stop talking and touch me properly.”
I dropped to my knees on the cold floor, pushed the skirt up around her hips, and buried my face between her thighs. She tasted like she always did—sweet and a little sharp, the kind of thing that made my head spin. My tongue dragged slow over her, then faster, licking into her while my hands held her open. Karina’s fingers tangled in my hair, pulling just enough to sting. She was trying so hard to stay quiet. Little bitten-off gasps, the softest whimpers when I sucked on her clit.
“Jihoon—fuck—”
I didn’t stop. Kept eating her out like we had all the time in the world instead of maybe five minutes before someone tried the door. Her thighs started shaking. I slipped two fingers inside her, curling them while my tongue worked, and she came with a broken little cry she immediately muffled against her own hand. Her hips jerked against my mouth. I stayed there through it, licking her through the aftershocks until she tugged my hair harder.
“Up. Now.”
I stood. She was already dropping to her knees in front of me, plaid skirt still hiked, sweater vest a little crooked. She pulled my cock out, warm fingers wrapping around the base, and looked up at me with those big eyes.
“Missed this too,” she said, voice soft, and then her mouth was on me.
Hot. Wet. She took me deep on the first try, the way she always did when she was impatient. I braced one hand on the stall wall, the other resting lightly on the back of her head. She didn’t need guidance. She just worked me with that perfect mix of tongue and suction, cheeks hollowed, making soft wet sounds that felt way too loud in the quiet restroom. Every now and then she’d pull off just enough to lick the head, then take me back down.
“Karina—baby—”
She hummed around me and the vibration nearly made my knees give out. I watched her, the way her long hair fell forward, the little crease between her brows when she focused. Best friend. The girl who sat next to me in lectures and stole fries off my tray and now had my cock halfway down her throat in a school bathroom during lunch.
She pulled off with a soft pop, spit-slick lips shiny, and wrapped both hands around me instead. Stroked slow and tight while she looked up.
“Want my tits?”
I nodded, already reaching for the buttons of her white shirt. She helped, pushing the sweater vest up and the shirt open enough that her bra came into view. Soft, full, the kind of chest that always made me lose track of conversations when she leaned over my desk. She freed them, pressed them together around my cock, and started moving. The heat of her skin, the way she squeezed them tighter and let the head of my cock peek out between them on every upward stroke—fuck. I thrust a little, careful, watching the way she watched me.
“Like that?” she whispered.
“Yeah. Just like that.”
She kept going, occasionally leaning down to lick the tip when it appeared. The dual sensation was almost too much. I could feel the edge creeping up fast. Too fast. I pulled back before I could finish, breathing hard.
“Turn around.”
She stood, turned, hands bracing on the wall above the toilet. I pushed the skirt up again, lined up, and slid into her in one slow push. No condom. Just the tight, wet heat of her around me. We both exhaled at the same time. I started moving, short and deep, trying to keep the sound of skin on skin as quiet as possible. Her soft little moans still slipped out every time I bottomed out.
“Quiet, baby,” I murmured against the back of her neck. “You’re being loud.”
“Can’t help it. Feels too good.”
I reached around, found her clit again, rubbed slow circles while I fucked her. She pushed back to meet every thrust. The stall door rattled once when I went a little too hard. We both froze. Footsteps outside? No. Just the building settling. Still, my heart was hammering.
I pulled out, sat down on the closed toilet seat, and tugged her with me. “Come here. Ride me.”
Karina straddled my lap facing me, skirt bunched around her waist, and sank down onto my cock with a shaky breath. The angle was deeper like this. She started moving, slow rolls of her hips at first, then faster when she found a rhythm. Her hands gripped my shoulders. Mine stayed on her waist, helping her lift and drop. Every time she came down it forced a quiet sound out of both of us.
“Jihoon—”
“I know. Keep going.”
She leaned in and kissed me, messy and open-mouthed, trying to swallow the noises. The sweater vest was half-rucked up between us. Her breasts brushed my chest with every movement. I could feel her getting close again—the way she tightened around me, the way her thighs started to tremble.
Someone tried the main restroom door.
We both went completely still. Karina’s eyes were huge. The handle jiggled once, twice. Then footsteps moved away. Whoever it was must’ve decided it was locked for a reason and left. My pulse was in my throat. Karina let out a tiny, breathless laugh against my mouth.
“Almost,” she whispered.