There. She's gone and said it. The S word. "Shag." She wanted to shag him. Reuben had been holding out hoping for too much, to avoid being too much disappointed, but there it was. She intended to shag him. He wasn't sure he could breathe anymore, nor that he would ever manage to breathe again. He did, however, stop to think that telling Caratacus about this was going to be grand, but he couldn't think about Caratacus for very long under the circumstances.
Of course they weren't going to do it in the corridor. Her suggestion that they find their way up to his dorm first made complete sense. It did. They should go. And hurry. And . . . and . . . and he fumbled to pull the top button of his trousers open while Whitley drew a long, unintelligible groan from his gut. Reuben's head lowered to rest face first in the soft, citrusy crook of her shoulder. He could feel random - and not so random - muscles spasming all over his body. His stomach was so tight he would have thought he was about to barf if it didn't feel so good.
They should go to his dormitory. Right after she stopped doing this to him, which he hoped was never. Reuben kept his hands under her blouse, a hormone driven anxiety pushing him to keep on touching her everywhere he could reach, while fearing to move too much lest she stop touching him they way she was. He pushed up her top until he could see her bra and moved his face from her hair to nuzzle her chest, dragging his mouth over the soft mound of her small, covered breast. They would go to the dormitory right after this part.




Callum Breckenridge
Joel Watkins