I am an adrenaline junkie, but not in the way you would imagine one to be. My high comes when I go to places I shouldn't and do nasty things with a guy or a girl: bathroom stalls, public places, you name it and I get wet instantly. It’s the thrill of getting caught that heightens my excitement. The very first instance of my adrenaline rush came when I first began college at State. I had attended a basketball game my freshman year when a guy sat next to me and ran his hand up my leg. Lucky for me, I wore a miniskirt. I put my jacket over my legs and let his fingers do the walking. I came just as my school's team made the game-winning three-point shot at the buzzer. I knew then I was hooked.

The biggest rush came during my junior year at school. I was in the library when he came in. Rumor had it that he stood at about six-foot-two inches and packed a lot of heat down below. I didn’t know his real name, but everyone called him Linebacker for some reason. I spied on him while I pretended to write a research paper on my laptop. Linebacker was over by the periodicals when a group of bubble-headed chicks came up to him and asked him ridiculous questions. I eavesdropped on the conversation and rolled my eyes. He must've sensed someone was watching him and looked in my direction. I quickly looked down at my laptop, smiling.

An hour later, I put my laptop in my rolling book bag and then rode the elevator to the top floor, where the older books were stacked high. I found a dark corner that would be useful for fucking whomever I chose. It also made for a spot where I can do what I needed to do right there. Looking to see that nobody was around, I unzipped my jeans and rubbed my mound through my red lace boy cut panties. The crotch of the panties got moist as I imagined Linebacker watching me masturbate. I moaned and quieted down, realizing where I was. I continued, allowing myself to get excited and the thought of getting caught with my pants down.

“Oh, Linebacker,” I moaned. “That feels so good. Don’t stop.”

“Need an extra hand?” a voice asked.

I opened my eyes and Linebacker stood right in front of me. His skin was the color of butter pecan, eyes the same shade as Cognac, and a megawatt smile. He took my ‘getting busy’ hand and sniffed it. He then kissed my fingers and put them in his mouth one by one.

“You taste good,” he whispered. “I want more.”

I nodded slowly, surprised by his forward behavior. He spread my legs apart and stared at my panties, salivating.

Peeling them down, he noticed my trimmed mound and took mental notes. Linebacker stared at my chestnut-colored skin, littered with healed scars from years of being a tomboy and having a bad case of chickenpox. He inserted one finger inside me, then another and moved them around. I moaned a little louder when he rubbed my clit fast. My legs wobbled at his touch. He found my G-spot and pressed hard on it and finger-fucked me in a rough and gentle manner. I began to come, and he stopped.

“Turn around. I want to come with you,” he whispered.

“Not yet,” I replied and knelt down to undo his jeans. I reached in and pulled out a hardened cock that was about eight inches long and thick. I gave him one of my legendary blow jobs that made him moan loud. I smacked him on his ass to get him to quiet down. I licked around his shaft and moved lower and sucked on his heavy balls.

“Oh, shit girl. That’s good,” he whispered through clenched teeth, trying to hold off on blowing his load in my mouth.

“Now I’m ready to fuck.”

He helped me up and turned me around, facing the wall. I bent a little lower so the lips of my dripping wet pussy lined up with his dick. At only five-foot-three, I was more than willing to give it up to him. He slammed into me and I yelped. I reached down and rubbed on my clit as he pounded me raw dog, syncing our rhythms together until we were on one accord. I used my free hand to undo my blouse and pulled out my barely-there B-cup breasts and pinched my nipples. Linebacker leaned forward and blew into my ear, sending me off right away. I squirted hard as I turned my head and gave him a kiss that made him come hard and deep inside me. After he finished, I turned around and cleaned his dick off with my tongue before I put it back in his jeans, while the remnants of his cum leaked out of my sore pussy and onto the floor. He pulled me up and played with my clit before he pulled up my panties and jeans.

“What is your name?” Linebacker asked.

“My friends call me Cheerleader,” I answered. “What’s yours?”

“Everyone calls me Linebacker.”

Linebacker and I looked down at the mess we made and smiled. Fortunately for us, we didn’t get caught in the act.

“When will I see you again?” he asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe when the need for another quickie comes over the two of us?”

“I see how you like it. I like it like that, too.”

I hit the jackpot with another adrenaline junkie like me. I pulled out my cell and punched in his digits. Yep, I could see another rendezvous coming soon.