Campus Corner (Open)

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I whimper, nearing my edge more and more as you ravage me, before letting out a blood curling scream as I hit my orgasm, my body shaking underneath your hand and around your cock. My screams are muffled by the bed, but they're loud enough to be heard.
 
Your screams and squealing set me off and you feel me drive a couple final times and bury myself inside you to stay, just before I erupt, sending a river of cum into your depths as I collapse over you. You brush your hair behind your ear as you come down, and I lean over and bite your neck firmly, pinching you enough to wince. I smack your hip as I withdraw from your pussy and lay beside you, looking at you. Your mascara has run ever slightly, and I wipe a bit from under your eye. "How did you like that?"
 
"I liked it," I say with a smile. "Not going to like, that was hot." I stretch out and cuddle against you.
 
I giggle. "I don't like that idea, I'll probably go with you." I stretch languorously in your arms. "Get some more hours in. . . protect my investments. . . that sort of thing. . ."
 
"Protect your investments, huh?" I slide my hand toward your slit again. "Afraid Riley might try to get herself pounded?"
 
"I'm afraid Riley might get too desperate," I counter gently, softly cooing. "You can't watch your own back all the time, bar boy."
 
"Fair enough then," I smile and pat your ass, kissing you. I go take a shower and get dressed and then go to my office downstairs while you get around. "Let me know when you're ready, babe," I say as I go downstairs.
 
I get dressed in your room, not caring about a shower. I throw in some dry shampoo into my hair as I combed it, and added a dash of make up. I carefully smooth the wrinkles out of my uniform and put it on before coming down stairs and kissing your cheek. "Let's go, sweetie."
 
We go in and you notice waitstaff is full tonight...Thursday night football. I gather everyone around and hand out sections. Then it happens. "Riles and Lynn. At the hostess stand." I give you a misplaced look that says, "Be nice," a look that should properly go to her, perhaps. You see Riley whisper to Sheila and think you hear that word again. She says something about a "slut." I keep giving kitchen assignments, not seeing or hearing what was said.
 
I dig my nails in my palms, furious that Riley was talking about me behind my back, and unfortunately, you didn't see it. I make a mental note to say something about it to you later.

For now, I was going to focus on working, and ignore Riley unless I absolutely have to speak with her. It was the only way I was going to remain civil.

I kept myself busy, making sure everyone was comfortable, and more than one guy staring at me while I did my job.
 
As I raced around making sure kegs stayed full and the registers stayed online, a crowd began to line up at the front. "Riley, you have to turn the tables faster and let the busboys know how many you need." She glares at me and then at you. "Dirty Spice over here isn't helping, Reece."

"Oh, shit," I think to myself.
 
I glare at Riley, but smile sweetly at you. "That's alright, I got it, Reece," I say with venom dripping from my voice. "I'm sure that the happiness of your customers is almost just as important, something someone forgets from time to time."

And with that, I go and start turning over some tables.
 
I think I notice your lower lip quiver as you brush past me. You see me say something to Riley just before I follow her toward the manager's office. She comes out after 20 minutes and runs her hand through her hair, pulling it into a ponytail, and then gives you a self-satisfied look when she returns to the hostess stand. The crowd is gone as you've seated everyone. Rather than apologize, she whispers while she writes on the seating chart. "I'm going to fuck him one night when you're not around," she glances at you. "He knows you're just another slut that he picked up drinking at his bar." She walks off and instructs the busboys and stays near the bar. You notice I'm still in the office.
 
I walk back to your office, wanting to see what you were up to and what had happened. Also, to inform you about what Riley said. I was becoming rather scared, because I saw that determined look in her eyes.

I knock on the door. "Reece? It's me, Lynn. . . can I talk to you?" I ask a little timidly.
 
I open the door, "Baby," I say. I let you come in and close the door as I wrap you in a hug. I can tell you are fighting yourself from crying. "I'm writing her up," I point to the partially completed form on my desk. You don't seem much better. "Tell me what's wrong."
 
Taking a deep breath, I say, "Riley said that she's going to fuck you one night when I'm not here, that I'm just another dirty slut you picked up while I was drinking at your bar." A tear rolls down my cheek and I wipe it away angrily.
 
Your face wrinkles up as you start to full on cry. I hug you tighter. "Baby you cant listen to her shit. She's being a bitch and she's mad at me right now. She doesn't know you."

I kiss away a tear or two. "And I don't think you're a slut."
 
"I know baby, and I'm trying not to let her get to me," I say, trying to hold back my tears so I won't get your uniform dirty and so I don't have to try to clean up mascara. "But it makes me so mad. . . and upset. . . that word hurts me more than you can imagine. . . "
 
"I'm sorry, babe."

You know I can't do anything. I still haven't heard her say it. "If I hear it, I'll make it stop." I squeeze you again. "You know she's going to pick on you...she'll say you came running to me to fix this." I tell you that you need to be prepared for that. "And baby, I can't fire her because the hostess I DO want to sleep with wants me to. I'm sorry. But I'll keep an eye on her, okay."
 
I nod and wipe away my tears and clean up my mascara. "I should probably get back to work," I noted. My eyes were puffy and red from crying, but I didn't care at this point. "I'll see you at closing." I kiss your cheek and walk back out in time to seat everyone, since Riley was nowhere to be found.
 
I get back to the floor and continue to work. Around 1 am, I pass you a folded up beverage napkin across the bar where nobody sees. You open it when you're alone at the witness stand.

"You're pretty. Even when you cry." It's signed with my name and a stupid stick figure with a stupid stick-penis next to it. It's an effort to make you smile.

Riley gets moved to wait tables after two of the girls' shifts end. You find it odd that I'd send waitresses home and then put her there. But I wanted to separate you and make your night easier.
 
I give a small smile at your note and pocket it, a little bit happier, especially since I was now separated from Riley. I continue seating people and cleaning up until closing time, where I sit down at the bar, exhausted. I rub my temples to stop an oncoming headache from having barely eaten.
 
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