Break Time, Break Her

“You know you can’t smoke here, right?”

You make a point of taking a longer drag while staring her down, then blowing it in her direction. She blinks twice and her lips twitch slightly but otherwise, she holds your stare like it’s a competition. This girl’s gaze is intense and she has real wide eyes—it’s the first observation you make of her, and it probably won’t be the last. “So?” you ask with all the casual bravado of your rebellious heart.

“You’re not the first to pick out this spot to hide, but the art professor always patrols back here and destroying people’s smokes gets him off or some shit.”

“And you’re telling me this why? Just hurry up and go brown your nose with some teacher and tell on me already.”

She finally breaks eye contact, only to glance over to her right, where the rest of the campus is, and then to step forward so she joins you out of sight behind the groundsman’s building. You don’t give an inch in reaction—your dead eyes watch every movement with the same lack of care you started with.

“That’s what you think? I’m going to run and tell?” You don’t bother to give any response; just a barely-cocked eyebrow to let her know how thoroughly bored you are. “I’m telling you as a bit of friendly advice. You need a better spot.”

“Okay, you’ve told me, now run along,” you snort dismissively, only to get a flat look of exasperation in return. You place the filter between your lips and leave it there before you fish out your phone from your pocket. Then this girl sighs, and right after that she plucks the cigarette right from your lips and settles it between her own. You manage a brief sound of confusion before she mirrors your motion from earlier and blows the smoke in your face.

“Listen.” She points at you with your smoking cigarette held between her two fingers. “I can show you a good place where nobody ever goes.”

Actions failing her appearance, you would admit she has caught you a little off-kilter. The tucked-in shirt with the button all the way up to her neck and properly fitted tie. The skirt sticks to the school’s mandated knee-length fit. Innocence in her first smile when she rounded the corner and confronted you. Everything pointed to this girl being straight-laced and by the rules—but the second she stuck your own cig between her teeth and showed you a saucy grin, all expectations of a predictable conversation fell to pieces.

“So you can stay here and get caught,” the girl holds out her hand, presenting the cig back to you, with her pink lipstick painting the filter. “Or you can put it out and follow me.” She punctuates her sentence with a challenging smirk.

You snatch it from her hand, place the lipstick-stained filter between your lips and take a drag. She rolls her wide eyes for a second, and then you throw it to the floor and crush it underfoot. “Lead the way.”

Her little triumphant smile washes over her face for a half second before it returns to her normal, friendly expression. She turns on her heel and expects you to follow her without another word. And while the anticipation does drive you nuts the whole two minutes you stalk around the buildings, and follow her into an old iron door that leads to a staircase, you have no reason to keep quiet.

“So, why are you showing me this anyway?” Your voice carries loudly as you head upstairs after her—her fingers only brush the railings as she takes confident steps up. “And who are you?”

“Not yet,” she dismisses the question with the promise of more later, which means either this is actually a setup or a pretty unhinged person—for all you know maybe a bit of both.

“Fine.”

The stairwell ends abruptly—she pushes another rusted door open, and the fresh spring air greets your skin once you pass the threshold. There’s nothing on the roof bar a few vents and electric units. A quick and cursory scan around lets you determine you two are well and truly alone and with no chance of anyone else finding you. You cross your arms across your chest and keep the grin from tugging at your mouth as your companion turns around to reveal a smile spread across her lips.

“I’m not taking a step further until I get a name.”

“Yuna,” she says so softly before turning away and walking around to the side, behind the door and around the structure of the stairwell. You follow her around, letting the door swing closed. Behind it, there’s a spot to hide from the afternoon sun, and not only that but there are a couple of old folding chairs waiting for a couple of troublemakers to come settle in.

“So there’s no one else here?”

“What? Did you think I would lead you into some sort of trap? Are you really that self-centred? Do you think people are after you?” The joke rolls off her tongue easily as she props open a metal storage bin, revealing some… surprisingly familiar brands of cigarettes and alcohol, as well as a lighter.

“Listen, I’ve made some enemies in my past.”

“So I’ve heard,” Yuna smirks again. “The teachers were talking in their office about the new transfer, and how he had terrorised his last two schools…”

“And they just let you in there?” you ask while leaning against the wall and watching Yuna unfold a chair.

“Of course they do. The teachers here love me. All the women think I’m the sweetest, most loving girl.” Yuna holds the chair just off the floor and then plants it heavily into the concrete with a scraping sound. “And well, all the men are pervs.”

“Sounds like you have them wrapped around your little finger, so what do you want with me?”

“You’re straightforward. I like that.” Yuna retrieves a packet of cigarettes from the bin while her eyes roam down the length of your body. It isn’t even subtle, the way her eyes dip to linger on your waist and then down to your thigh. “And you look tough, strong, and dangerous. A nice change to all the mousy boys around here. They are all just pussies, desperate for the smallest scrap of approval from me.”

“Is that right?” you ask. Yuna pushes up a cigarette in the packet, grips it lightly with her teeth and pulls it out. She puts the packet down and then sets it smouldering all in one smooth action. You watch it all carefully, taking in the mannerisms, the casual, sexy grace to her motions, but all of them with the utmost ease that belied years and years of practice.

Yuna sucks in the hot smoke, closes her eyes, and lets her head roll back. You can’t help but be drawn to the long line of her exposed neck. The smoke plumes upward for several seconds as it is released slowly from her full lips. Finally, her eyes slide open and find yours.

“Very,” she drawls out the word, giving it more weight than it really needs. “You asked what I want from you? To have some fun.”

“Are you having fun?”

“Not yet.” Yuna stands from her chair and takes a step over to you. Close enough to place the cigarette into your mouth, and when she places it in your lips, her hand lingers a little before slipping down to your neck. Her fingertip brushes over your bare throat gently.

“Careful, you’re going to lose a finger,” you try and warn her, but you don’t stop her advances, and she has a couple of perfectly manicured nails touching your skin.

“Who, me?” she scoffs, but the motion is just a distraction for Yuna’s other hand as she traces down the open front of your blazer and then slips off the end of it and plants her hand right against your dick. She dares to grin right then and there, and it only widens as she tightens her grip. “You really want me to move my hand away?”

She begins to massage gently, and she bites her lower lip. She shuffles a little closer, pressed against your right side, with her mouth close to your ear. She takes the hand from your neck, holding the cig so you take a drag and then pulling it from your lips so you can let the smoke out. Yuna takes another drag before giving it back to you.

“Hold this.” Her massaging movements are bolder now, and Yuna applies her entire palm to cup around you firmly before beginning a slow and gentle stroking. “Suddenly lost for words?” Yuna jokes quietly, with the cadence of her hand stoking the fire. “Do you like that?

"Yuna, you’re fucking crazy.”

“Crazy? They say to never stick your dick in crazy. I wonder how true that really is?” She is still running her fingers over your length, working the flesh and muscle through your clothes. You’re starting to get hard, and Yuna can certainly feel it.

“I wonder if that counts for mouths too,” you drawl back and it’s a message received. She presses herself against you, pushing you flush against the wall, and then she slides her body down, making sure her entire front drags over you, dragging her breasts down across the hardness of your cock. You get a very unabashed stare, her lips agape with delight, and her hands finally settling to work your pants and belt free before yanking it down.

Yuna’s on her knees and telling you, “Let’s put that theory to the test.” Her eyes drop to the object of her attention now, as she pulls it free and holds it in her left hand. Then Yuna grins as she inches closer—so close you can feel her breath warm and moist over the tip.

Her lips touch the surface, the softest of kisses and then you see her tongue lash out and flick against the tip. The contact is fleeting, but it’s like lightning through your body. So, Yuna dips down to a new point and presses a deeper, open-mouth kiss. Lips around you and slowly sucks you into her mouth, feeling the damp warmth engulf the head.

She holds you there for some time, just the head inside her gently suckling mouth. She jerks you ever so gently and then looks up for a reaction. Her stare commands you to never look away, so you don’t, watching those lust-glazed eyes look up as her lips close tighter. “Mmm,” she moans softly before jerking you a little harder and faster while swirling her tongue.

A long exhale escapes your lips as Yuna makes your pleasure her priority. You hit your hand against the wall behind you, snuffing out the burning cig and dropping it to your side. Both your hands find her head, stroking her long black hair. Fingers wind into her locks, gently gripping.

“Come on, more, Yuna…” You start guiding her deeper, more forceful, and a part of your brain thinks this has to be a dream—no real woman would approach a guy in broad daylight and service like this. But clearly, Yuna is no normal girl. The way she slides those lips down your shaft and takes you all the way in proves that. And with the soft, muffled hums, her eyes lidded now with desire.

Her rhythm is steady, pulling all the way out until she reaches the tip, where she uses her lips to grip tight and slide right down to the base again, all the way, making your cock fully sheathed in her. She braces against your hips and slowly moves back and forward, grinding her lips and mouth along the entire length before picking her pace up.

“So good,” you groan, fingers grasping onto her tighter, and Yuna obliges you by taking you faster and deeper into her throat. After a few frantic movements, she pushes deep and holds you there, her nose pressed against your stomach, her chin against your balls. There’s a slight choking, gasping noise coming from Yuna, as she keeps you there until she draws her head back again and gasps for air.

“Mmm,” she purrs and laps her tongue across the length of your wet shaft while panting. The base of your cock is painted in that same pink lipstick she left on the filter of the cigarette. She switches hands, grabs you tighter, pumps you aggressively, and asks, “You like my mouth?”

“Yeah.” You hold her face in your hands, stroking her cheek, looking into those glittering eyes.

“They always tell me I’m blessed to be so pretty, what do you think, from up there? Am I pretty, watching my face with you in my mouth, feeling my mouth around you, taking you in my throat?”

“Yes. Pretty, so fucking sexy.” You struggle to find any more words than that, which for you, is unusual—you’re typically cool and articulate. But now with her kneeling in front of you, still pumping away at your cock and not relenting in her assault, you struggle to piece together another sentence.

“Show me then. Cum for me.” She lowers her face down again and wraps her lips around your cock, moaning the command into your sensitive tip and then pushing herself as deep as she could go, over and over. Your whole body quaked in reaction, and so Yuna pulled her lips off to allow herself a breath of air, and as soon as your tip was out of her throat, she spat saliva all over the top, using her fist to pump her spit and your pre-cum over your cock as it slid in her hand. “Come on, cum, cum.” She grinned wide and then planted kisses over the length and pressed her face against the throbbing hard rod, with her eyes pointed upwards and a silent, pleading gesture on her lips.