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PLANS AND PARTIES

MIA

The bass from the party thumped through the walls of the crowded house, bodies grinding on the makeshift dance floor under flashing lights. Mia sipped her drink, leaning against the kitchen counter, her eyes scanning the room. Sofie had dragged her here for a 'fresh start'. Sofie was already in her element, laughing with a group near the center, her tight red dress hugging her curves.

That's when Mia spotted him—the football player, broad-shouldered and towering, with messy dark hair and a cocky grin. He zeroed in on Sofie like a predator, pulling her close amid the chaos. Their kiss started slow but exploded into something wild: his hands gripping her ass, yanking her against his crotch as his tongue plunged into her mouth. Sofie moaned audibly, her fingers clawing at his shirt, legs parting slightly as he pressed her back against the wall. Mia's cheeks flushed; she couldn't look away, a strange heat pooling between her thighs. She turned back to her drink, pretending not to notice, but the image burned into her mind.

An hour later, the party's energy still buzzed, but Mia needed a break. Her hair was a mess from dancing, so she slipped into the dimly lit washroom down the hall, the door slightly ajar. She stood at the mirror, running fingers through her waves, when movement in the reflection caught her eye. In the corner stall, the door cracked open just enough, Sofie was pinned against the wall by the same guy. His massive hand was up her dress, fingers working subtly but insistently between her legs.

Sofie bit her lip to stifle a gasp, her head thrown back as he curled two thick digits inside her p***y, thumb circling her c**t in slow, teasing strokes. Her hips bucked against his palm, juices slicking his knuckles, the wet sounds barely audible over the distant music. He leaned in, whispering something dirty in her ear while his free hand squeezed her breast, pinching the n****e through the fabric. Sofie whimpered, grinding down harder, her thighs quivering. They were lost in it, oblivious to Mia frozen at the sink, heart pounding.

Mia's breath hitched, her own p***y clenching at the sight. Heat flooded her core, n*****s hardening against her thin top.

She backed out quietly, cheeks burning, the image replaying: Sofie's flushed face, the player's strong fingers pumping in and out.

The walk back to the dorm felt endless, her panties soaked, thighs rubbing with every step.

In their shared room, the door clicked shut behind her. Sofie wasn't back yet. Mia had the place to herself. She stripped off her clothes, the cool air raising goosebumps on her skin, and grabbed her cute pink vibrator from the nightstand drawer, its smooth silicone humming to life with a flick. But first, the pillow. She straddled it on her bed, the soft fabric pressing against her bare p***y as she rocked her hips, grinding her swollen c**t along the seam.

Her mind wandered, not just to Sofie's scene, but to those sexy intense eyes she'd locked onto in the cafeteria earlier that day. He'd stared right through her, a smile playing on his lips, making her squirm in her seat. Now, she imagined him there, watching her like the player watched Sofie.

Mia moaned softly, humping the pillow faster, her juices soaking the case. She switched on the vibrator, pressing its buzzing tip to her c**t while she rode harder, the dual sensation making her gasp. 'f**k, yes,' she whispered, picturing his eyes darkening as he approached, his hand replacing the pillow, fingers thick and rough plunging into her dripping hole.

She angled the vibe lower, sliding it inside her tight p***y, the vibrations pulsing against her walls as she thrust it deep. Her free hand pinched her n****e, twisting until it ached, hips bucking wildly against the pillow. The fantasy shifted to his mouth now on her breast, sucking hard, while he finger-f****d her just like the player did to Sofie, but rougher, claiming her.

Pressure built, coiling tight in her belly. Mia cried out, the vibrator hitting that spot inside as she ground down, imagining her p***y being stretched wide. Her o****m hit like a wave, p***y clenching around the buzzing length, c*m gushing out to drench the pillow. She rode it out, body shaking, breaths ragged, until the aftershocks faded.

Collapsing back, Mia pulled the vibe free, slick and glistening, a satisfied smile curving her lips. The night air cooled her flushed skin, but the ache lingered, with those captivating eyes haunting her thoughts.

KEVIN

I leaned my forehead against the cool wood of the door, my eyes closed. The girl. For one stupid, unguarded second, I had... smiled. I'd knelt on that floor, and the entire, singular focus of my mission—the anger that had been my only fuel for a year—had just evaporated. Replaced by a strange, quiet warmth.

She was a distraction. A lethal one. And my reaction to her was the single biggest threat to my plans.

"Focus," I hissed to the empty room.

I ran my stinging hand under cold water at the sink, the pain sharpening my thoughts. I had allowed a-two minute interaction to almost derail me. I wouldn't let it happen again. I grabbed my laptop and sat at my desk, the newspaper clipping a heavy, square shape in my pocket. It was time to get back to work.

Passive research was over. I'd spent the summer coding a simple web crawler. While other freshmen were hooking up in the party, I had it scanning the deep archives of the university's public-facing servers. I wasn't looking for class schedules; I was looking for building maintenance archives, janitorial routes, and old architectural files.

After an hour of filtering, I found it. A full set of digitized blueprints for the Business and Humanities complex. A jackpot.

My mission solidified. I opened the faculty directory in another window.

Professor A. Finch. Office: 412, Alistair Finch Hall. Of course, he had a building named after him. The arrogance.

Next, the course catalog. He was teaching one, and only one, undergraduate class: Ethics in Business. The irony was so thick it was suffocating.

I pulled the blueprints into a design program. I mapped his office (412), a corner suite on the top floor. I traced the building's infrastructure—air ducts, maintenance closets, the path of the cleaning crews. I found the electrical junction box for his floor and the main security hub. I analyzed the windows. I found his "Ethics in Business" class, located in a large lecture hall on the first floor.

For the next three hours, I planned. I located every camera, every blind spot. I knew exactly where I needed to go.

The girl with the warm eyes and the black handkerchief would have to be forgotten.

The hunt was on!