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When they'd parted ways after the debate, he'd been all ready to forget about it. Forget about the kiss, forget about the awkward tension leading up to it, forget about how incredibly good she looked just by letting her hair loose. Or how incredibly good she looked when it was still pulled back.

And, hell, it wasn't like there was anything wrong with a guy in his thirties thinking a girl just out of high school was good looking. The deluge of commercials about 'hot barely legal teens ready to take it all off for you' he'd see if he turned his TV to any random channel after midnight were proof that no matter how sleazy people might try to claim it was society had fully accepted the fact that young girls were hot; just one more thing they could have, and in a way did, used to prove that man was essentially evil.

The point, the very important point, was that just looking without acting didn't matter. The fact that she had acted didn't count, his own hands were clean and he could just put it behind him without that godawfully annoying distant cousin of a conscience the ridiculous school was somehow dredging up in him getting worked up about him lusting over someone who practically embodied the innocent school girl cliche.

That plan was ruined when after just five steps he heard her call out, "Jeff, wait!" behind him.

He knew that he really shouldn't turn around. He knew that if Abed had been there he'd be listening to a rambling explanation about how in a movie that would be Jeff's cue to whirl around and Annie would fling herself into his arms, cue romantic soundtrack, prepare for oncoming happy ending. He knew that turning around wasn't the smart thing to do if he was just planning to forget that for one weird day his hormones had forgotten that she was completely off-limits.

Jeff turned around.

Sometime during the few steps he'd taken away from he she'd tugged the clip out of her hair again, and, god help him, she was nibbling nervously at her bottom lip while she watched him. "You know... the parking space he gives you probably won't be that great. And you did keep up your end of of the deal. Are you... are you sure you don't want that night of companionship?"

He was going to hell. He was going straight to hell.

His decision had been made the second he'd turned back to here.

"Just promise me one thing. You won't say another thing that reminds me of the dean."

She hopped in place, then practically skipped up to him. "Deal!"

She was a better kisser in front of an auditorium full of people than she was in the privacy of his hotel room. She hadn't had to think then, caught up in a spur of the moment gambit, and turning off her brain had worked out well for her. He had to coax her now, with his hand and his tongue and the languid movement of his body, to relax and slow down, because she was all full of eagerness and even he wasn't cruel enough to risk bringing her down by outright saying that he liked it better when she was just focusing on drawing out the kiss long enough to make him drop that asshole.

She turned a fetching shade of red when he pulled off her shirt that slowly faded when kept his lips tracing across her face, his hands massaging her back, careful not to make her feel pressured or cause her to shy away. By the time he risked sliding a hand around to her stomach and grazing the underside of her breast with his thumb she'd relaxed enough to greet the sensation with a little shuddering gasp and begin fumbling with the button to his own ridiculous debate uniform.

"You're so... so muscled!" she said with a giddy, somewhat frantic, giggle when she was able to stare at his bare chest and tentatively stroke his arm. "Has anybody ever told you that?"

"That I have a great body? Why yes, yes they have." He allowed her to explore at her own leisure, keeping his hands planted at her hips, thumbs rubbing slow circles on the soft skin at the curve of her waist, to ensure that he wouldn't do anything to rush her. She kept darting sweetly nervous glances at his face every time she touched him, the same doe-eyes that he knew damned well she deliberately used against him whenever she wanted to get something out of him now doing their best to judge whether whatever she did was right.

When her hands came to rest on the fly of his pants and that same look flickered to his face yet again, he wasn't patient enough to hold back the urge to say, "Yes, do it, you don't need to ask!"

She started a little, but quickly followed his order. He was already precum-drippingly hard, more than a little embarrassing when when he was supposed to be the older, more experienced one.

"Oh!" she squeaked when she saw his bare cock. She reached out to touch it, hesitating slightly before she reached it before softly brushing her fingers down the shaft. Her eyes widened when the light touch was enough to make it twitch. "Oh, so that's... oh."

"Oh god," he groaned, "Annie, please don't tell me you're a virgin. I already feel enough like a sick old man without you being a virgin."

She blushed again, more brightly than ever. "No! I-I don't think it's really appropriate to talk about past relationships in a situation like this, but I'm perfectly well experienced for a girl of my age. It just happened in a way where I never had to see it."

He pulled her down for another kiss, pressing up into her hand. "Okay, now I feel less like a dirty old man and more like the person you desperately need to teach you that if you've gotten through sex without getting some idea of how a penis looks somebody must be doing something wrong." He nuzzled the curve of her cheek, nipped her earlobe, cupped the soft curve of her breast. "And I can already tell that somebody wasn't you."

Her breath shuddered all through her, and she suddenly shoved herself to her feet. While he was still staring at her, wondering if he'd just said something wrong, she pushed down her skirt and underwear in one movement and stepped out of both. Her body language did a good job of faking confidence, but her eyes were as nervous as ever and her voice practically squeaked when she said, "Condom!" She stopped and swallowed, and her voice was steadier when she continued. "We need a condom. Do you have one."

"Check the bedstand," he said, nodding off to the side. There was a box sitting right on top of the Gideon Bible, and he was suddenly glad that he hadn't yet had cause to open them. She was already twitchy enough without getting it into her brain to wonder who else he'd been using them with.

He'd been kind of hoping that her stripping down was a sign that she was ready to get on with it, but now she stopped to very seriously read the condom package, casting occasional quick glances back at his cock. "Need any help there, Annie?"

"Jeff, please!" she said, keeping her eyes on the package. "I haven't done this part before, and my old method of learning in... in distracting circumstances really wasn't a good idea, so I need to concentrate!"

He reached out to loop an arm around her waist and pull her back down onto the edge of the bed. "You know, I could just take care of that for you," he said, kissing the side of her neck, the back of her shoulder, the top of his spine. He was going to hell, and her skin felt so nice against his lips.

"A modern, self-sufficient, woman really should be able to do this sort of thing for herself," she said, sounding like she was reciting something she'd memorized. She finally opened the box and pulled out a condom, but instead of getting on with it she just stopped and stared down at his penis once again when she'd twisted around to face it.

"Annie, are you sure you want to do this?" he asked, dreading what the answer would be. He really didn't look forward to a lonely night spent with Mrs. Palm and her five beautiful daughters after he'd gotten so far with such an incredibly hot girl.

She finally dragged her gaze away from his crotch to look up and meet his eyes. She was nibbling at her lip again and he wanted badly to kiss it, but he forced himself to hold back because she was searching his eyes so seriously.

"Jeff," she began, then bit down especially hard on the corner of her mouth before continuing. "You got so into winning the debate because of what he said, didn't? You know, about 'Little Annie Adder...'" she trailed off, and just for a heartbeat looked entirely miserable. But at whatever she saw in his face she brightened up again just as quickly, and finally ripped open the condom wrapper. "Yes, I really want to do this," she said breathily, and pressed him back onto the bed as she began to roll it on.

He was a dirty old man and he was going straight to hell, and when she pressed herself down onto him he couldn't help but feel so very glad for that.