The Devil's Secretary Ch. 01

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International college student romps through campus.
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"Seriously, Dean, knock it off."

Natalie's tone brooked no room for argument, but her erstwhile companion was as bullheaded as ever.

"C'mon baby! You don't have to study all the time."

Dean, a six-foot-three greek god with curly brown hair ran his long, strong fingers up the back of Natalie's exposed calf. Natalie rolled over in their shared bed, gifting him with a trademark glower. She was petite, tiny next to his giant form, but her five foot stature did little to lessen the impact of her irritation.

"You're such a slut Dean. You may be working on your undergrad, but I'm halfway through the last year of my Master's and I don't have time for your dicking around."

Dean let out a long, dramatic sigh and relented at last.

"Alright babe dang, my bad."

Annoyed or not, Natalie drank in the sight of him as he slipped out of the bed and strode towards the bathroom. He was lean, muscular, and lanky. His spot on the swim team was at least half the reason he was in college in the first place. If she was honest with herself, it was a good part of why he shared Nat's bed too.

He shuffled away like a kid with a broken toy, and she felt a pang of guilt. Still, she had three papers and about a thousand pages to read before Monday, and she'd worked too damn hard to give up now. She returned to her book, a particularly dry read regarding the gradual conversion of mankind to patriarchal religious structures. She made it through a few pages before Dean started belting twangy, stereotypical country tunes in the shower.

The fourth time she re-read the same sentence she took off her thick, blue-framed glasses and put her head down on the page with exasperation. Glancing at her smartphone, she saw it was already nearly nine in the morning. Her Social Constructs class was in forty minutes, and it didn't seem she'd be making any headway before then.

Instead, she slid to the edge of the bed and hopped down. Her hundred-pound body made no sound as she padded across the worn linoleum of her dorm room to the bathroom. She passed through the open door, Dean wasn't shy, and paused a moment in front of her bathroom mirror. Her dirty blonde hair was up in the messy bun where she'd put it sometime on Saturday morning.

She turned this way and that, looking herself over. She was wearing a green tank top and a pair of pink shorts with teddy bears on them. She was bra-less, as usual, since her pert B-cups did all the work of staying up by themselves. She examined herself, over-all pleased with what she saw. A youth spent traipsing around outdoors, coupled with a health-conscious attitude she'd been developing since high school had lent her a fit, trim physique.

She stripped down her shorts, and slid her tank top over her head, shivering a little as the fabric brushed across her twin nipple piercings. The thin metal bars were a present to herself at eighteen and the pleasure she'd gotten from them during the past six years was well worth the pain she'd gone through at the time.

Dean didn't hear her climb into the small shower behind him, so she took a moment to admire his naked form. He was a hunk, to be sure. His not-quite-six-pack abs spoke of a fondness for beer, and his hairless chest, arms, and legs suggested a vanity that he certainly lived up to. He turned to face her, head upturned, and rinsed sudsy shampoo from his dark hair. Natalie's eye lit up at the sight of his greatest perk.

She was no stranger to the naked male form, but Dean was definitely one of her all-time favorites. She licked her lips, he definitely had something going for himself.

Natalie reached her hands up and placed them on Dean's pecs, her soft touch making him jump, and then grin.

"Can I join you?"

Dean squinted through the water, a massive grin making itself at home on his face.

"Course babe, come on in."

She slid her hands slowly down his chest, not breaking eye contact, until she found was she was looking for. Dean's rapidly hardening cock was already thick enough that she couldn't close her small fingers around it. He reached full size in the span of a few heartbeats, heartbeats she could feel pumping through his groin.

"Somebody's happy to see me."

She worked her hands up and down his smooth skin, taking delight in the way he shivered at her touch. Heat built between her thighs, already wet from more than just the shower.

Dean wasted no time grabbing hold of her hips and pulling her to him. Their height difference, irrelevant on the bed, now made itself abundantly clear. His package pressed against her stomach, finding a nice resting point that stretched from her midsection up above the base of her breasts. Anticipation brought a flush to her cheeks and her heart picked up the pace.

She brought her upper arms closer together, enveloping the head of his cock in her cleavage while she continued to stroke him softly.

Dean's eyes fluttered shut as warm wet skin and soft hands started to shut down his higher brain functions. Natalie leaned in and decorated Dean's chest with soft slow kisses, her plump lips and inquiring tongue tracing the lines and ridges of his muscles. Her newly lowered chest wrapped Her pulsing plaything in it's embrace and she moved her hands to her breasts, pushing them together and running her fingers lightly across her hardening nipples.

He tried to lean in for a kiss but found her tiny palm in his face instead. She pushed his head back and extricated herself delicately from his embrace.

"Down boy, we have to make this quick, I can't be late for class again."

Dean pouted a moment, but his lust-filled eyes didn't lose their hungry gleam.

"You can make up the foreplay when i get home later."

His mumbled response was lost in a moan as she slid further down and pressed her tightly closed lips against the head of Dean's cock. She licked her lips, roughly circling the tip of him with her tongue and smiled as his body jerked in response.

She made a few more circles, feeling his body tense with building pressure. Finally though, she quit teasing him and took the plunge.

She thrust his cock into her mouth, forcing her tights lips over him and taking as much as she could. He filled her mouth easily, the tip of him hitting her throat with two inches or so to spare. She bobbed upwards as swiftly as she'd gone down on him, letting her saliva moisten his stiff cock before pushing down once more. She didn't stop this time, pushing herself down on him until he entered her throat and cut off her air supply. She held it as long as she could, relishing the light-headed thrill of him in her throat before pulling back.

Natalie worked her lips and tongue up and down his shaft, moving one of her hands to grip the base of his cock and stroking firmly in time with her sucking. Her pussy was throbbing. She could feel her heartbeat in her labia and the space between her thighs was a furnace of passion.

Natalie's free hand left her tender breast and snaked downwards.Her delicate fingers slid up and down her soaking slit. She'd never been ashamed of pleasuring herself, it just wasn't in her nature. She made no attempt to hide it from Dean and, as it had with many of her previous lovers, she found it drove him wild.

Today was no different.

The moment she slid her hand between her thighs she heard him groan softly and his cock twitched inside her mouth once again. His obvious excitement only served to motivate her.

Her lips gently parted and she dipped first one, then a second finger inside her pussy. She slid them in and out, dragging her fingers roughly across her clit with each stroke and squirming with pleasure.

She took him deep in her throat again, gagging but holding her head steady while rubbing swift, tight circles around her clit. Her hand, having moved from his cock to his thigh, tightened fiercely as her climax started to build inside her.

She could feel Dean's cock swelling and knew he was close as well.

Her pussy ached to be filled, but not only was she short on time, he was clearly ready to go already. Instead, she opted to give him a treat and returned to bobbing up and down on his cock.

Dean's hands found her shoulders, locking on with a sure grip that meant he was getting close. She increased her speed. Faster and faster, up and down. She wrapped both hands around his shaft, working them up and down as she focused her mouth almost exclusively on the head of his cock.

"F-fuck Nat, I'm close."

She pulled back, her smooth hands never slowing. His head was bowed and his eyes were tightly closed as her fingers worked from the base of him all the way up and over the tip.

"Come for me."

Her sultry tone sent him over the edge and thick ropes of cum erupted from his trembling member. She flinched ever-so-slightly as a strand hit her cheek, but most of it landed on her breasts and neck.

She smiled and slowed her pace, still stroking him and watching him buck wildly from hypersensitivity until every last drop was clear of him. With a smile she popped his slowly softening member back into her mouth, sucking gently to draw him deep into her mouth and massaging him with her tongue once again. The briney taste of his cum wasn't her favorite, but she didn't mind it in small doses. Especially when she was this worked up.

The falling water of the shower made short work of washing her clean, but she massaged and kneaded her breasts as much for her own pleasure as to hurry the process along.

The evidence of their frolick rinsed away, she stood and planted a kiss on her lover's cheek.

"Hey what a minute, I think it's your turn..."

Dean's hands brushed the hair from her face, then travelled down her body towards her hips.

"Ah ah, no time lover. Make it up to me tonight?"

If Dean had his way she'd be here till noon, and she hadn't been joking about missing class.

He narrowed his eyes a little, but agreed.

"Good, now scoot over you're taking all the hot water."

Natalie left her clothes on the floor when she stepped out of the shower a few minutes later, breezing into her bedroom to put on a fresh outfit for the day. She opted for slim, hip-hugging jeans shorts and her favorite tank-top. The shirt, banded in black, red, and gold, matched the German flag of her homeland.

Natalie lifted her backpack and her gym bag from their resting place on her desk and slung them onto her back and shoulder respectively. Dean was still dallying in the bathroom when the door closed behind her. Out in the hall his singing was replaced with the relative silence of a college campus before noon.

She chewed on her bottom lip as she descended the stairs and pushed through double-glass doors out onto the sidewalks of Carbondale, Illinois. The weather was gorgeous, sunny and seventy-five with just enough of a breeze out of the Southwest to keep you from sweating.

She took a deep breath of the fragrant fall air and reminisced about how different things would be looking back home in Bennigsen. It was mid-evening back home and her family was likely just sitting down to dinner. Homesickness hit her like a hunger pang so she forced her loved ones back out of her mind.

Almost her entire American experience had been at university. From doing her undergraduate work in Kentucky to here at the Southern Illinois University's Carbondale campus, where she was pursuing her master's degree in Anthropology and Archaeology.

She'd cooled off by the time she passed the gym, her wet hair the only remaining evidence of her steamy morning activities. The thought of Dean brought a half-smile to her lips.

He was vain, cocky, and not particularly bright, to be sure, but he was also generous and funny and above all passionate. He frequently annoyed her by placing little importance on grades and studying, but at barely twenty, and a C-student at best, his priorities were bound to be different than her own.

She slowed her pace, checked her watch, and was surprised to find she still had twenty minutes or so.

At this rate she'd be early and true to form she had no desire to spend it cooped up in a classroom. She turned her footsteps towards the walking path that encircled the lake on campus. The concrete walkway was shaded and offered a better view than the wide, manicured lawns and old brick buildings of the school.

A few dozen yards down the path she was pleasantly surprised to find her favorite perch was unoccupied. The wide roots of an ancient willow held a perfect nook for her tiny frame, an ideal spot to dangle her toes in the water and take her mind off of things. She dumped her bags and plopped down on the cool grass, slipping her shoes off.

Natalie's stomach growled and her nether regions throbbed for lack of attention. Unresolved sexual energy battled her skipped breakfast to see who would be the reigning source of regret in her morning routine.

"God damn it, I should have just fucked him anyway."

She closed her eyes and leaned back against the tree, slipping into a familiar meditation routine. Unfortunately, inner peace took a backseat to a vivid imagination. Dean's finer qualities paraded through her mind and left her woefully unsatisfied. He was in for a long night.

She shuffled through her duffel bag for a moment, retrieving a small, dog-eared paperback with the cover torn off. After casting a furtive glance up and down the path and determining that she was, for the moment, alone, she opened it to her old silk ribbon of a bookmark. One more glance and she nestled deeper into the shadows.

... Emmet entered the room like a king takes a throne. His deerskin leggings clung like to thick, muscular legs like they were painted on by the hands of angels. Rocky calves led to powerful thighs and a steely six-pack chiseled from stone. His powerful chest heaved with exertion and shone with a faint layer of sweat.

Paige's heart leapt into her throat at the sight of her half-naked hero. He'd been in The Pit since daybreak and she feared he might never return.

Across his back lay his trusted broadsword, Hunger, and in his left hand he carried the scaly, sightless head of his vanquished foe. Even flecked with Gorham's blood, his sculpted arms called to her.

"Your champion returns, m'lady."

Paige cast her eyes downward at her slave's clothes. Pitiful rags did little to hide her ample bosom and the crude skirt she'd fashioned extended only just far enough to cover her aching loins.

She was no lady, at least, not anymore.

Paige felt a strong hand on her chin as Emmet tilted her head upwards. He towered head and shoulder above her at a titanic seven feet.

"I am a lady no longer, Emmet, you know this to be true-"

He crushed his lips against hers, silencing her with his passion.

"You will always be my lady, Princess."

She gasped, he knew?

Suddenly fearful, she shushed him half-heartedly. It was only through the ignorance of their captors that she'd been allowed to live.

And only through his strength that he'd won her back.

Her insides warmed at the memory of his first battle. He'd slain a Great Hardren Bear with nothing but a club, and plucked her as his chosen prize from a thousand thousand slaves.

"How long have you known?"

"Since the beginning, m'lady. I wish only that I could have prevented your capture in the first place, or your father's death."

She looked away, tears springing to her eyes at the still-fresh pain of her kingdom's fall.

"Is that why you haven't... claimed me as your own?"

With her back to him she could only imagine his expression. Insecurity gripped her, these past three moons she was certain he simply found her unappealing.

"You are not mine to claim."

His voice was thick with palpable desire. She felt her nipples harden in the cool cave air and a thin bead of moisture begin to work it's way down her inner thigh.

"Then you do find me... desirable?"

She started when his hands wrapped around her, encircling her waist with unshakeable strength. She felt herself jerked back against him, his sizeable member straining against his pants and making itself known against her nearly-bare backside.

"More than you know."

She arched her back against him, placing her hands delicately on top of his and pushing them forward and down.

"Show me," she breathed.

Thick fingers slipped beneath the loose fabric across her hips and probed between her thighs. Her speech became unintelligible as his searching digits found a tight haven of warmth and desire below. His index and ring fingers rubbed up and down the outside of her lips while his middle fingers rocked back and forth across her soaking slit.

Paige's knees threatened to give out when, with sudden force, his middle finger curled and entered her. First one knuckle, then the second, until the entire digit was buried within her. Her slick, smooth inner walls tightened around the finger, barely allowing it through.

She moaned as his other hand found her left breast. He tore away the thin fabric covering it and enveloped it in his palm. Emmet rolled her nipple between rough fingers and used the hand that toyed her pussy to force her ass harder against his thickening cock.

She reached back, fumbling with the leather strings of his pants a moment before finally succeeding in freeing the straining behemoth within. He felt the hot skin of his erection against her bare ass. The head was as big as her palm and dripped precum onto the small of her back.

"Take me, please, claim me."

Wordlessly, he lifted her and spun her around. His member now rested firmly between her legs, her lips stretched wide as he rubbed her womanhood up and down along his shaft.

She locked lips with him, arms wrapped around his shoulders. She felt him raise her further and spread her legs with his strong grip.

His cock was pressed against her opening, which strained to master the challenge at hand. She shuddered with desire, her body begging him to fill her

"Emmet plea-..."

"Hey roomie whatcha read-"

Natalie jumped, slamming the book shut with an audible snap.

"Jesus Christ!"

Natalie shoved the book into her bag, her cheeks ablaze.

"Ooh jumpy! You're aura's all heat and mischeif girl, what're you doin'?"

Natalie stood and brushed dirt from her pants, turning to face her friend Noa Cabaleiro. Noa, a fellow international student, may have arrived from Galicia at the same time that Natalie flew over from Germany, but she'd already fully assimilated.

If Natalie was wild, Noa was chaos incarnate. She was the definition of free spirit and easily among the truest friends that Natalie had ever made.

She was also, at the moment, waving a chunk of quartz in front of Natalie's face with a serious frown on her face.

"Seriously amado, you feel like you're about to punch someone or have a... ai, cal é a palabra para o corrida?"

Her trademark mash-up of Galician and English brought a smile to Natalie's face. Natalie, a relentless polyglot with a penchant for rare languages, racked her brain to help her friend out.

Corrida... what was corrida again?

"A bullfight? Wha-"

"Orgasm!"

Noa's face lit up as she nearly shouted the word through the stillness of the morning. A jogger on the path behind them stumbled and nearly fell, but ran on with his ears burning as Natalie shushed her.

"Noa! What the hell, shut up!"

Natalie scooped up her bags and took her friend by the hand, dragging her from the scene of her embarrassment before she could be recognized.

"What, I'm just saying you're all heated about something!"

Natalie rolled her eyes and kept moving. Noa, who was tall enough to be a runway model, had no trouble keeping up with her pace. Her lean bronzed body was wrapped in a flowing knee-length tye-dyed dress. Her thick dark hair, a bundle of sleek braids that extended past the small of her back, was bunched together with a similarly colored strip of cloth and, aside from a leather satchel, it represented the grand total of what she was wearing.

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