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 ï>¿College Girls byfinÂ(C)

   College Girls Ch.  01

   Nearly midnight and still no sign of Kate. 

   Susan yawned and decided to pack it in for the evening.  She shrugged
off her jeans, pulled on her cross-country team t-shirt and slipped into
her narrow twin bed.  The sounds of the dorm filtered through the thin
walls: someone closing the refrigerator just outside her door, a stereo
playing death metal, two people laughing loudly as they stumbled down the
hall in her direction.

   She heard the door to her suite open and the laughter got a notch
louder. Just like Kate to finally get back just as she was drifting off to
sleep.  Now she'd have to hear all the lurid details of her roommate's
night out.  No, Susan decided.  Not this time.  She turned onto her side,
facing the wall, and closed her eyes.  Kate could wait until morning to
narrate her adventures.  By then whoever Kate had met would just be another
guy she'd be all gooey over for a week or two.  Susan had stopped trying to
remember their names. 

   The bedroom door opened.  Kate stopped in the doorway when she noticed
that the light was out.

   "Oh.  She's already asleep," Kate said.  She stood there for a moment,
evidently at a loss.  "I was thinking that, well, she'd just excuse herself
and go somewhere else."

   "Hey, it's okay," said a deep voice, a male voice.  "I'll just head back
to my place.  I've had a great time ..."

   "You're not going anywhere," Kate said firmly.  "Come on in.  We can
whisper.  Susan'll sleep through anything."

   "Are you sure?"

   In response, Susan could hear the guy being dragged towards Kate's bed.
Oh, hell, Susan thought.  Now what am I supposed to do?  I should probably
say something; let them know that I'm really awake.  But a moment later it
was too late: she heard two bodies hitting Kate's bed, followed by a
high-pitched, drunken giggle from Kate.  Then it was quieter.  There was
some movement, announced by the old bed springs, and Susan thought she
could hear lips meeting, although that could have her imagination
overheating.  Then a sigh from Kate.

   Damn, Susan thought.  How do I get out of this one?  She tried to let
her mind wander, think about the chem lab that was due on Thursday.  She
heard a snap unfastening; then the sounds became harder to interpret  -"
the rustling of clothing, shifting on the bed, indrawn breaths.

   "You're sure she's asleep?" the guy asked. 

   His voice was deeply masculine, even as a whisper.  Susan imagined a
broad, muscular chest and dark hair.  She wasn't sure why dark hair fit the
voice, but it did.  And he seemed to move confidently.  There was nothing
abrupt or crude about his motions  -" or was she drawing too many
conclusions from a few muffled sounds?  Suddenly, Susan wanted to know. 
Was he really as she imagined him?  Tall and athletic and self-assured?  Or
maybe he was squat and nerdy.  Or green and spherical.  This was nuts.  It
wasn't any of her business.  He'd be gone in the morning and Kate would
give her the blow-by-blow, and that would be the end of it.

   But it was no use.  She couldn't fall asleep.  Maybe just a quick peek,
Susan thought.  To satisfy my curiosity; to see whether I can summon the
image of an entire man from a few whispered words.  She hesitated for a
moment, then rolled over as silently as she could.  Very cautiously, she
raised her eyelids a sliver.  She was facing across the small room towards
Kate's bed.  She'd been in the dark for a while, and her eyes had adjusted
-" Kate and her friend were visible on the bed, though only just.  They lay
on their sides, the guy with his back to Susan.  Kate had her arms around
him and she had pushed up his shirt so that her hands caressed the bare
skin of his back.  The couple seemed to be kissing enthusiastically.  And
he did indeed have broad shoulders and dark hair, just as Susan had known
he would.

   Suddenly, Kate disengaged herself and pushed the guy over onto his back.
She swung one leg over him until she was straddling his hips, her butt
resting on his crotch.  Susan was relieved to see that they both still had
their jeans on.  Kate giggled and worked on unbuttoning the guy's shirt. 
When she'd finished, she put both her hands on his chest and scraped her
long fingernails along his skin.  He gasped softly as she grazed his
nipples.  She leaned over and let her long blond hair fall across his taut
stomach.  Wow, Susan thought, as she watched Kate drag her hair back and
forth, I wish I could do that.  Susan kept her wavy chestnut hair short. 
She's gotten tired of her ponytail flopping up and down when she ran.

   The guy let out a deep "mmm" and reached up to rub his hands along
Kate's bare arms.  Susan tried to make out his face, to see if she
recognized him.  But the only thing visible was a faint reflection from his
eyes.  Kate sat up and reached for the hem of her tank top. 

   Oh, no, thought Susan, she isn't ...

   But she was.  Susan shivered and opened her eyes a little wider.  The
sounds outside faded; now all she could hear was her own pulse hammering in
her ears.  Her eyelashes still blocked her view a little, giving the scene
a muddled sense of unreality.  Kate moved in dreamy slow motion, drawing
her shirt gradually upwards.  Kate was a petite girl  -" at least three or
four inches shorter than Susan  -" but the rising shirt seemed to expose
more buttery, tanned flesh than Susan could take in: The smooth skin of her
waist came into view first, then the slightly rounded stomach, then the
sheer bra, already hanging askew.  Finally, Kate wiggled her torso to get
the top over her shoulders.  Her face disappeared for a moment as she
extracted her hair.  Kate threw the shirt in Susan's direction, and Susan
caught her breath.  But Kate didn't notice.  Her eyes were on the guy,
savoring his reaction as the bra slid off her shoulders.

   Susan blinked.  She'd seen Kate's breasts before, of course, but she'd
always made a point of not staring.  They were two cup sizes larger than
her own (she'd checked), round and heavy, a little pendulous.  Now in the
diffuse light leaking in from their single window, they seemed
other-worldly, almost glowing.  The large nipples, stiff and puckered, rose
from dark aureoles.  Kate understood the effect her bare breasts were
having on her captive audience perfectly.  She looked down at him with a
knowing smirk.  He put his hands around her waist and pulled her towards
him.  Her breasts touched him first, her hard nipples flattening against
the exposed skin of his chest.  Their arms went around each other and their
lips met again, more urgently this time.  Kate's hair fell over both of
them.

   Okay, thought Susan, I've seen enough.  Quite a bit more than I wanted
to, actually.  She turned quietly towards the wall again, and closed her
eyes.

   The sounds of bodies shifting grew louder, magnified by the small space
and hard walls.  Susan did her best to ignore them.  Kate would surely come
to her senses in a minute and send the guy on his way.  But the scuffling
continued.  What was going on?  Susan's heart pounded in her chest.  She'd
never seen real people doing anything like this.  Her imagination supplied
vivid images to go along with the sounds: lips meeting, hands fondling
breasts, hips mashing together ... 

   And then, gradually, without really meaning to, she turned back over.

   Her imagination had been a little over-active.  But only a little.  Kate
was still stretched out on top of the guy, and her jeans had been pushed
down to her ankles.  So had his.  Kate was wearing a thong of some
dark-colored material, navy blue or black, so that, from Susan's point of
view, she was naked from head to toe except for the thin waistband of her
panties.  The guy was running his hands along the curve of her bottom and
over the backs of her legs.

   Susan tried to control herself, to calm her breathing.  It seemed so
loud.  Could they hear her?  Could they tell she was awake?  They were so
close  -" she could smell the excitement steaming off of their skin.  Kate
had begun to slowly wriggle her hips, grinding them against the guy's
crotch.  He groaned audibly.  Abruptly, he put one arm around her shoulders
and the other around her butt and flipped her onto her back.  Kate giggled
and lifted her head up to nibble at his ear.

   "Naughty boy," she whispered.

   He rolled off to one side, his back towards Susan once again.  He
scooted down a little so that his mouth was over her breasts.  He leaned
over and Susan saw his tongue flick out and swirl around one nipple.  Kate
gasped, and something inside Susan melted.  A warmth flowed up from her
center, making her feel light-headed and faint.  She wrapped her arms
around herself, trying to control the feelings.  But her nipples had become
painfully hard, and the contact with her arms felt like an electric shock.
She subconsciously slid one hand down between her legs.

   The man pushed awkwardly at his boxer shorts.  He lifted his hips and
yanked the waistband until they began to move down, revealing a slim,
muscular butt.  Susan licked her lips nervously.  He finally kicked his
shorts off and lay on his side, wearing only his unbuttoned shirt.  And
then he disengaged himself from that as well, and he was completely naked.
His dark, wavy hair lapped over his neck, down to where smooth muscles
played under his shoulder blades as he pulled Kate towards him.  His back
blocked Susan's view of whatever they were doing.

   Kate's shoulder began moving rhythmically.  Susan couldn't see her arm
or hand, but she could guess what was happening.  She surprised herself by
feeling frustrated that the guy's cock was hidden, that she couldn't tell
if Kate's hand was really sliding along its length.  His cock must be very
hard by now, Susan thought, slanting out from his body, its tip dark from
the blood surging through it ...

   For a moment Susan's thoughts spun out of control.  She saw herself
pushing her covers aside and going over to Kate's bed, offering herself to
them.  She closed her eyes tight.  What was wrong with her?  She wasn't a
voyeur.  None of this had anything to do with her.  If Kate wanted to ...
to what?  Susan shivered.  Whoever this guy was, Susan was pretty sure she
hadn't seen him before.  Kate wasn't really going to ...  to do it with
someone she'd just met, was she?

   The guy was reacting to whatever Kate was doing to him.  His breathing
turned ragged and his head jerked back.  Kate looked serious, as if this
was taking all of her concentration.  The muscles in the guy's butt
tightened.  Was he going to ...?

   Susan's breathing turned ragged.  She'd never seen a man's body like
this, so taut and lean, so excited and so completely in a woman's power. 
She couldn't help herself.  She pushed her t-shirt up over her waist and
slipped her fingers underneath the waistband of her panties until they lay
against her pussy.  Her folds felt swollen, slippery with moisture.  Her
eyes were wide open now.  If Kate looked up, she'd surely know that Susan
was watching her.  It didn't matter now.  She felt reckless, wanton,
half-wanting Kate to notice.  Would she invite Susan to join them?  She
could run her fingers over the guy's butt, touch the smooth skin of his
powerful shoulders ...

   Susan clenched her teeth.  No, no, no.  She had more control over
herself than that  -" even if Kate obviously didn't.  Susan took a deep
breath and removed her hand from her panties.  Just then the guy rolled
onto his back with a breathless grunt.  A little bit of stray light
outlined the hard planes of his face, but Susan still couldn't really see
him.  His cock, though  -" she could see that perfectly.  Kate had let go
of it, and it seemed to stand out a mile from his hips, rising at a steep
angle to his torso, quivering slightly, the head swelling to form a bulb at
the end.  Then Kate's hand was covering it again, or part of it anyway. 
Either Kate's hand was awfully small, or the guy's cock was a lot longer
than any of the limited selection Susan had dealt with in the past.

   Kate slid her hand along the shaft and then just brushed the head with
her fingertips.  The guy groaned loudly and bucked his hips upwards. 
Somehow, his cock had grown even longer.  Kate just stared at it for a
moment.  Then she swept her hair over her shoulder, so that it fanned out
across her bare back.  Her face began to dip downwards.

   Oh, no, thought Susan.  Kate, please don't ...

   But Kate didn't hesitate.  Her tongue darted out from between her glossy
lips and teased the skin at the very tip of the guy's cock.  He jumped as
if he'd been struck.  Kate giggled at his reaction, then did it again. 
This time the guy's hips rose to meet her, and Kate moved her lips over his
cock head and swallowed it halfway down.  Susan's eyes picked up the
smallest details: Kate's lips bulging outwards as they passed over the
ridge that separated his cock tip from the shaft, the trail of moisture her
mouth left behind, the tiny opening at the very end of his cock weeping a
single sparkling drop of pre-cum.  Their arousal filled the small dark
room, saturating the part of Susan's brain that controlled her breathing
and her body temperature.  She was perspiring, her clothes and her bed
covers unbearably hot against her skin.  She had to get them off now.

   She fought for control over herself.  Clothes off, she decided.  Bed
covers, not.  She skinned her panties down her thighs as discreetly as she
could and pushed her shirt up.  Her hand went back between her legs.  She
was dripping down there.  Everything was tender and slippery; she was
almost afraid to touch herself, she was so sensitive.  She bit her lip and
slid her index finger along the outer lips of her pussy, picking up some of
the moisture, using it to lubricate the passage of her finger over her
clit. She knew that her breathing was too loud and that she was lying in a
completely unnatural position as she struggled to see everything that was
happening in the next bed.  But it was obvious that Kate and her boyfriend
weren't paying any attention to her.  They were lost in their own little
world.  Kate held the guy's cock in one hand and swirled her tongue around
the tip, pausing to nuzzle it with her lips.  The guy grunted every time
her tongue touched him.  Kate was kneeling between his outstretched legs
now, and her breasts swung freely each time she dipped her head.

   How much practice did it take to develop that kind of technique?  Just
as Susan wondered that, Kate sat up.  Susan's heart skipped a beat.  Had
Kate sensed that she was watching?  No.  Her attention was still on her
boyfriend.  Or, more accurately, on his groin.  She rubbed his cock head
idly between her fingers.  Then she crawled over him so that her hips were
positioned above his.  Susan felt an odd sense of relief.  Kate was still
wearing her thong.  That should keep things from going any further.

   Kate hadn't let go of the guy's cock.  In fact she held it firmly now.
Susan's breath caught in her throat.  Kate was ...  she was pulling the
crotch of her panties to one side and nudging the guy's cock towards the
entrance of her pussy!  Susan started to feel light-headed again.  Kate
closed her eyes and shifted her hips back and forth.  Susan couldn't see
the critical area very well, but it looked like he wasn't going inside her
very far.  With every forward movement, Kate let out a little high-pitched
gasp.  His cock head must be ...  it must be hitting her clit, Susan
thought.  Her own pussy began to throb.  She squeezed down on it with her
hand, but that just made it worse, almost painful. 

   Suddenly a quiver ran through her and Susan made a startled "oh" sound.
She'd just cum, she realized.  Normally her climaxes took forever to build
up, but this one just happened all at once.  Her body contracted, sending
her fingers deeper into her pussy. What's happening to me?, she wondered.
She felt almost as desperate at Kate, who was still wriggling against her
boyfriend.  Finally, Kate made a frenzied shift of her hips, and his cock
moved inside her.  His cock seemed so long and thick, Susan thought.  He
wouldn't fit all the way, would he?

   But he did.  Their loins mashed together, Kate's tiny patch of blond
hair scratching against his thick nest of black curls.  Kate held still for
one long, agonizing moment, then began to heave up and down.  Her motions
became more and more violent and her breasts bounced, changing shape,
flattening on her chest as she crashed against the guy's hips.

   Susan was rubbing herself without any sense of restraint now.  Her skin
shone with a sheen of perspiration.  She knew that anyone looking in her
direction would know exactly what she was doing.  But it didn't matter. 
She couldn't stop.  Her breathing became louder and harsher, mirroring the
sounds that were coming from Kate's bed.  Susan shook as another orgasm hit
her and a loud moan rose from deep in her chest.

   The guy reached up and put his hands over Kate's breasts.  She leaned
forward to intensify the contact.

   "Peter," she said breathlessly.

   So that was his name, Susan thought.

   "Yes, right ... there," Kate said.  A hard jolt ran through Kate's
body. Her butt slammed down again and again.

   For a moment Susan felt oddly disconnected, as if she was watching the
scene from somewhere else  -" the naked couple on the bed, no longer making
any attempt to keep their passion quiet or discreet ...  the whole suite
must be listening to their cries and their bodies slapping wetly together 
-" the single girl a few feet away, eyes wide, panties down around her
ankles, shirt pulled up to expose her breasts, a sheet only partly covering
her super-heated body, long bare legs exposed now, pale in the dim light,
one hand buried deep in her pussy.  It all seemed to drift into
slow-motion. The guy  -" Peter  -" moved his hand to grip Kate's butt.  She
scooped her hips forward and arched her back, her breasts thrust forward,
nipples hard and swollen, long hair hanging straight down her back.  She
froze in that position, a trickle of sweat dripping between her breasts,
across her stomach, and pooling in her belly button.

   Peter's body convulsed once, then again as he dug his fingers into the
flesh of Kate's bottom, and he emitted a harsh, drawn-out "ahhh".  Kate
seemed to soften, drawing in her breath in a long sigh and collapsed slowly
onto Peter's chest.  Susan felt a flood of warmth against her hand.  An
unbearably intense sensation rushed outward from her center, spreading
through her body.  She knew she was breathing too hard, too quickly, but
there was no way she could control what was happening to her.  The warm,
melting feeling filled her completely, flowing out into her fingers and
toes until her skin burned and everything turned hazy and indistinct. 

   * * *

   A long time later, the room was much brighter and Susan felt groggy, as
if she'd had too much to drink the night before.  She came slowly to her
senses, remembering what had happened after Kate had come back to their
room.  She looked over at her alarm clock and noticed that it was nearly
nine AM.  Okay, fine.  Her first class wasn't until ten.  If she got moving
now, she'd have time for a shower and a quick breakfast.  She'd have to
wait a little longer to sort out what had happened the night before.

   She took stock.  Her panties, wherever they were, were probably a lost
cause.  But if she pulled her t-shirt down no one would have to know about
that.  She rolled off the bed, bare feet landing on the cold tile floor,
still trying to clear her head.  It was another minute before it occurred
to her to look over at Kate's bed.  For some reason, she'd assumed that it
would be empty.  But Susan was shocked to find that both Kate and ...  what
was his name?  Peter? ...  were still there.  Peter was on his back with
Kate cuddled up against him, her head resting on his shoulder, her hair
fetchingly disheveled.  The covers were pulled up to Peter's chest, but
both of them still appeared to be naked  -" a conclusion reinforced by the
clothing scattered at the foot of the bed.

   As Susan stared at them, she felt a familiar tingling in her pussy. 
Just then, Peter opened his eyes.  They looked at each other for a long
awkward moment.  Susan could see his face properly now.  It was a pleasant
face, a thoughtful and seemingly intelligent one, certainly not the
brainless party dude she'd expected.  And the wavy hair she'd seen last
night was even darker than she'd thought, a deep, glossy black that went
beautifully with his flinty gray eyes.



   "Ah, hi," he said.  "This is a bit embarrassing ...  Could I ask you to,
ah, throw me my clothes?"

   Susan smiled, despite herself.  "Sure."

   She picked up his jeans, pullover and blue-and-white striped boxers and
tossed them to him.  "I'm heading over to the bathroom to take a shower. 
The room's all yours for fifteen minutes or so."

   "Right.  Thanks.  Look ...  I hope we didn't disturb you last night."

   His voice was tentative.  He evidently wasn't sure what she'd seen or
heard.  Susan shivered a little.

   "No," she said.  "No problem."

   * * *

   Susan set the water as hot as it would go and let it stream down her
hair and her back.  She closed her eyes as the water ran over her butt and
her legs.  The heat and the water's smooth caress summoned images from the
night before: Kate flipping her hair out of the way before she took Peter's
cock in her mouth, the ripple in the flesh of her bottom as her body
slammed down on his, the small high-pitched cries that came faster and
faster ...

   Damn it, she thought, I'm burning up inside.  I really don't have time
for this right now.  Nevertheless, she let her soapy fingers stray down
between her legs, massaging her outer lips, the way she always liked to
start when she touched herself.  The she turned around and let the water
sting her breasts and bead up on her rising nipples ...

   Oh, hell, she thought.  I really have to get to class.  She pulled her
hand away with a sigh.  Maybe later.  She dried herself and dug through her
duffle bag for a sweatshirt and the loosest pair of jeans she had.  She
didn't want anything pulling against her crotch today.  It was going to be
hard enough to stay focused on chemistry without any other distractions.

   She straightened herself up and walked back into the hall  -" and found
herself looking right at Peter as he stepped out of the men's bathroom. 
They were practically nose-to-nose.  They stared at each other for a
moment, then they both started to laugh.

   "I'm Peter," he said.

   Susan smiled.  "Susan."

   "Kate's still sleeping.  Do you think I should wake her up?"

   "No, she doesn't have any classes for a while.  Let her snooze.  You
wouldn't like her first thing in the morning anyway." Susan put her hand to
her mouth.  "I'm sorry.  That was catty.  I just meant that she's usually a
bit testy when she gets up."

   They kept looking at each other.  Neither moved.

   "Anyway, I've got to go," Susan said.  "Nice to meet you."

   "Ten o'clock class?"

   Susan nodded.

   "Yeah, me too," Peter said.  He hesitated, looking a bit unsure of
himself for the first time.  "Ah, do you want to get some breakfast first?"

   Susan's mind went blank.  She couldn't think of what to say.  She looked
at her watch.  "Okay.  We'll need to be quick, though."

   * * *

   Susan blinked as the morning sunlight washed over her.  The day was
going to be chilly but gorgeous.

   "It won't be easy to concentrate on statistical mechanics on a morning
like this," Peter said, mirroring Susan's thoughts.  "I love the fall here.
All the colors and the quality of the light, everything so clean and
crisp."

   Susan looked at him.  Who was this guy?

   "How did you meet Kate?" she asked, feeling the need to keep him
grounded.

   Peter looked a little embarrassed.  "Actually, she came by looking for
one of my suite-mates.  He wasn't around and there was this party she
wanted to go to ...  "

   "So you got lucky?"

   Peter actually blushed.  "Yeah, I guess so."

   The thought crossed Susan's mind that maybe it was Kate who had gotten
lucky.  She wondered what the two of them had talked about.  Probably not
statistical mechanics.  Okay, that was catty too.

   After another minute they reached the cafeteria.  Susan got some yogurt
and granola.  Peter piled French toast on his plate.

   "Sit outside?" he asked.

   "Sure."

   They found a table and basked in the sunlight for a moment.

   "You're a freshman?" he asked.

   "Is it that obvious?"

   He shook his head.  "Not particularly.  It's just that I think I would
have noticed you before now if you weren't."

   Susan smiled.  "Was that a compliment?"

   Peter blushed again.  It was sort of endearing, especially in a big guy
like him, albeit a bit geeky.

   "Yes," he said.  "Yes it was."

   He looked awkward, not at all the powerful, confident lover of the night
before.

   "Do you know what you want to study?" he asked.

   Every guy she'd met since she started college a few months earlier had
tried out that line.  But, for some reason, she didn't mind it coming from
Peter.

   "Astronomy, I think.  Although everyone keeps telling me how dismal the
job prospects are."

   "Hey, I'm in anthropology.  It can't be worse than that.  I started in
economics, then urban planning.  I can't quite make up my mind."

   That seemed odd to Susan, who had always valued focus and
self-discipline ...  last night not withstanding.  "How come?" 

   "I'm sort of interested in everything.  And when else am I going to get
a chance to study semiotics or industrial design or Nordic sagas?  But it
also means that I'll be stuck here for a fifth year."

   Peter knocked back his last slice of French toast.  "I'm sorry, I really
have to go.  I've got a mid-term in my first class."

   Susan felt a little pang.  She wasn't quite ready for breakfast to be
over.  But she said: "Sure, no problem.  Good luck with it."

   "Yeah." He looked rueful.  "I didn't get as much studying done last
night as I'd planned."

   Susan laughed.  "I'll bet."

   He stood up and was suddenly awkward again.  "Look, this is a bit weird.
But can I see you again?"

   Susan felt her cheeks flush.  She should have seen this coming.  Maybe
she'd even wanted him to ask.  But she couldn't, she just couldn't.  This
guy had been in bed with her roommate an hour ago.

   "No," she said.  "I really don't think that would be a good idea."

   Peter stood very still.  "Yeah.  You're probably right.  I'll see you
around, okay?"

   "Sure," she said.  "Thanks for breakfast."

   He nodded and was on his way, his tight butt moving quickly out of sight
in the hubbub of the morning rush. Damn, she thought.  And damn Kate for
spotting him first.  Susan shook her head.  There are a thousand other guys
on this campus just like him.  She nodded resolutely, then wavered.  Well,
maybe not justlike him ...

   * * *

   Once Kate started talking there was no stopping her.  It was Peter this,
Peter that.  They were going to a club one night, a party the next.  He
didn't really seem like a club guy to Susan  -" that was probably Kate's
influence.  But despite all the narrative from Kate, Susan hadn't actually
seen Peter since their hurried breakfast two weeks earlier.  Kate was gone
every other night it seemed, leaving Susan to herself more often than she
liked.  She'd go to sleep after some uninspired studying, half-hoping that
she'd be woken up by Kate and Peter coming back to her room.  She would lie
half-asleep for hours, finally having to wake up and touch herself.  She
remembered how Peter's hands had moved over Kate's body, lifting the soft
weight of her breasts, digging his fingers into the pliant flesh of her
hips.  But did she really want to see them doing it again?  Would that make
her feel any better?

   Susan lay back on her bed and stared up at the ceiling.  She needed to
get over this.  Soon.  Her work was suffering.  She was losing sleep and
moping around her room far too much.  Her social life wasn't going
anywhere.

   Her thoughts were interrupted by the phone.  Her hand had drifted
between her legs and she pulled it away abruptly and picked up the
receiver.

   "Hello?"

   "Hi, is that Susan?" A male voice.  "It's Peter.  Remember me?"

   Susan smiled, despite herself.  "Yes, Peter, of course I do.  Do you
want to speak with Kate?  I'm afraid she's out right now."

   "No, actually, I was looking for you.  I have a physics exam on Thursday
and I was hoping you could study with us tonight."

   "Us?"

   "A study group from the class.  We're meeting in my suite."

   Susan thought about it.  It seemed okay to be with Peter as long as
there were other people around.  Kate couldn't really object to that.

   "Sure.  What time?"

   "Most of the guys are showing up around eight, but whenever is fine."

   "Eight's good.  I'll see you then."

   Peter thanked her and gave her his room number.  After she'd hung up,
Susan started worrying again.  What should I wear?  How formal was this
going to be?  No sense in dressing up, she decided; it wasn't a date. 
Although maybe some of the other guys might turn out to be interesting. 
She decided on a sweater and a soft denim skirt and sandals.  At the last
minute she put on a little lipstick.  That was normal enough.  Kate always
did it when she went visiting, and when it came to that sort of thing,
Kate's expertise was inarguable.

   Ten minutes later Susan was knocking on Peter's door.  She took a deep
breath, wondering what it would be like to see him again.  In the last two
weeks her image of him had coalesced into a sort of idealized male face and
body, and she knew that the real guy couldn't possibly measure up to her
transmuted recollections.

   But he did.  The door opened and there he was, wearing a black t-shirt
and jeans, his dark hair falling across flashing grey eyes that stared at
her just long enough to make her feel uncomfortable.

   "Hey, Susan," he finally said.  "Glad you could come.  You look
terrific." He finally stopped staring and looked a little embarrassed. 
"Come in, please."

   Susan stepped inside the suite's common room, which was more or less
identical to her own, albeit with a larger television.  The three other
guys in the room were introduced as Vic, Paul and something
Italian-sounding she couldn't remember.  They were non-descript
upperclassmen with nervous smiles and baggy sweatshirts.  They weren't too
helpful when it came to special relativity problems, either.  She could see
why Peter had wanted her around.  The subject happened to be one she'd been
interested in and studied a bit over the summer.  She enjoyed showing off
and acting wise and patient, and all the guys seemed grateful for the help.
Peter was a perfect gentleman, getting her a Coke and sticking to business.
But she did catch him sneaking looks at her once or twice (which wouldn't
have happened if she hadn't been looking at him, of course).

   Susan was having fun, and she was a bit disappointed when one of Peter's
suite-mates came in and said that he wanted to watch something on
television.  Vic, Paul, and whoever the other guy was decided to knock off
for the night and watch with him.

   "Is that it, then?" Susan asked Peter.

   He frowned.  "A couple more problems?  We haven't done the stuff from
the section on time dilation."

   "Okay, that's pretty easy.  It's the same algebraic equation with a
square root that you use for mass increase."

   "Let's go to my room.  It's kind of loud out here."

   He headed down the narrow hallway before she could say anything.  Peter
opened a door and held it for her.  She hesitated for a second, but what
could she do?  She went inside and didn't say anything when he closed the
door behind them.  The room was tiny, just a twin bed, a desk with a chair,
a bookshelf, and a Bauhaus poster on the wall.  This must be where Kate was
spending so many of her nights recently, Susan realized.

   "You have a single," she said, stating the obvious.

   "There are quite a few of them in this dorm.  Some compensation for the
plumbing not working half the time, I guess."

   Susan pulled the chair out from the desk and sat down.  Peter sat
casually on the bed across from her.

   "I think you intimidated my friends a little," he said.

   "Yeah, I'm pretty scary," Susan agreed.

   The smiled at each other.

   "Time dilation?" she prompted.

   "Right."

   They worked one of the problems, but Peter had the equation upside down.

   "No, look," Susan said, getting up from the chair and sitting next to
him.  She drew the right graph in his notebook.  "The total velocity can't
ever be faster than light, okay?  So the velocity term has to be in the
denominator."

   Sitting so close, Susan couldn't help noticing that he smelled
pleasantly of soap.  He must have taken a shower right before she came
over. Well, so had she.  Their shoulders touched as she leaned over towards
him.  She drew back quickly.  He looked up, his face only inches from hers.
She knew that she looked frightened, terrified, probably.  Then his face
came even closer.  She couldn't move, couldn't react.  His lips touched
hers, light as air, just a warm contact of pliant surfaces.  His arm went
around her and pulled her against him.  His lips were so soft, the scent of
his hair so clean.  She was lost, collapsing into him, encircled by that
strong arm.

   How had this happened?  How had she ended up alone with him?  Whatever
was happening here, it had to stop.  Somehow, she made her hands push
against his chest, gently moving him away.  She closed her eyes and
collected herself for a moment.

   "No.  You're Kate's boyfriend, remember?  I like Kate.  She drives me
crazy sometimes, but I like her.  I don't want to hurt her."

   Peter looked at her intently.  "Do you really think I matter to Kate? 
She's so ...  I don't know.  She has her toy of the moment, and it's me
right now."

   Susan shook her head.  "No.  She likes you.  She talks about you all the
time."

   "Really?"

   "Really.  And if you did break up  -" think how awkward it would make
things between Kate and me if you and I started going out.  And I have to
live with her for the rest of the year, no matter what happens."

   Peter put his hand over hers.  Susan could feel the subtle pressure of
his pulse; her own heartbeat raced to keep up with it.  He leaned over to
kiss her again.

   "No," Susan said, pulling back.  The vehemence of her reply startled
both of them.  "I don't want to have to lie to her.  I hate lying." She
took her hand away.  "I don't think we should touch each other." She
blinked back tears.  "Not like this, anyway."

   "Just physics problems then?"

   She tried to smile.  "You can't get much more platonic than that."

   "How about a foot massage?"

   "What?"

   "A foot massage.  My sister is a physical therapist.  She taught me a
bit.  But I could use some practice."

   This was getting a little silly.  Where should she draw the line?  Would
Kate care if Peter wiggled her toes, or whatever?  No.  Her conscience felt
pretty clear about that.  And it would keep him off the bed at least.

   "Sure," she said.  "That would be nice.  Should I take my shoes off?"

   "I'll do it." 

   Peter got down on his knees in front of her and unfastened the straps of
her sandals.  Then he began to run his thumbs along the inside edge of her
left arch.  She couldn't remember ever having gotten this kind of massage
before.  It felt just lovely.  Maybe it wasn't the massage itself so much
as the intimacy of the act.  He drew his fingers across her sole.

   "Mmm," she purred.

   Would it feel as good if someone other than Peter was doing it?  One of
his non-descript roommates, for instance?  No, she decided.  She looked
down at him, mostly seeing tousled dark hair.  He was concentrating on what
he was doing, his face  -" what she could see of it  -" was composed,
serious.  His hands were relaxed and assured, though.  She liked that.  Her
high school boyfriends always seemed so rushed and nervous when they
touched her.  She felt as if she was missing something with them, like they
were skipping the best parts, whatever they were.  She closed her eyes and
leaned back contentedly.  He pulled methodically on all the little bones
down there she'd never given a moment's thought to before now.  He stroked
the skin along her ankles.  Someone was practicing an instrument somewhere.
A clarinet?  Or maybe an oboe?  It was so faint she couldn't quite tell. 
Whoever it was had started with scales, but now had moved on to something
soft and haunting, like a shepherd playing to himself on a still summer
evening.

   Funny, when she'd first seen Peter he'd been rolling around on the bed
with Kate, and he'd driven Susan almost insane.  Now he was making her feel
so completely different, so calm and dreamy.  She was glad that Peter
wasn't saying anything.  Words, even his, would ruin the feeling.  But the
music was perfect.

   She looked down at him again.  He seemed to feel her gaze and tilted his
head up.  Their eyes met.  His hands stopped where they were, lightly
holding her left ankle.  The music rose into a high arabesque.  She felt
open, serene, totally sexy.

   She moved her legs apart.

   Peter's eyes widened.  His lips parted and his tongue ran across them
once.  His hands released her foot and moved up along the insides of her
calves, still gentle and unhurried.  Susan closed her eyes again,
listening, feeling.  Smooth fingers caressed her bare skin, drawing little
circles along its surface.  It was as if every place he touched came alive.
She was sure she was flushing: her face was getting warm; so was her upper
chest.

   His fingers were brushing the insides of her thighs now.  She was so
sensitive there ...  she could barely stand it, her flesh quivered with
each touch, little prickles of heat radiated up her thighs to the place
where they met, each one adding to the last until she was so warm and
slippery she couldn't sit still.  She wriggled her hips a little and
Peter's breathing deepened.  He inhaled her excitement and his hands grew
bolder.  He pushed upwards at the edges of her skirt.  She didn't move at
first, then she lifted her hips off the bed, just a little, and the skirt
slid back, bunching up at her waist. 

   Her panties were exposed now.  They were lime green, sheer, but nothing
special.  She hadn't given them any real thought when she'd dressed that
morning.  But now ...  they were damp with her arousal, almost translucent,
and pulled taut against her swollen pussy lips.  Could Peter tell how wet
she was?  She wasn't embarrassed.  She wanted him to know.  She slid
forwards, stretching her panties tighter against her pussy.  The thin
fabric outlined her outer lips and dipped into the space between.  Her
little tuft of chestnut pubic hair made a small, soft bulge, and a few
hairs escaped above the waistband.

   Peter's fingertips slid higher up her thighs, leaving faint pink traces.
They found the bottom of her hip bones, and for the first time his hands
hesitated.  There was a new note in his breathing, a deep, animal rasp. 
Susan realized that she was making almost the same sounds.  Peter's index
finger trailed downwards across the front of her panties until it was
directly over one of her outer lips. 

   Susan began to tremble, and her arms suddenly seemed too weak to support
her.  She could feel her breasts heaving, the heat flowing from his hands
up into her belly, her chest, her overheated face.  She just had to take
her sweater offnow.  She leaned forward and pulled it over her head.  Peter
watched her, not sure how to react.  She undid two buttons of her blouse,
then shook her head.  That was enough. 

   Peter looked back to the dark place between her legs.  He stroked her
gently for a moment then pushed one finger against the moist fabric until
it slipped between her folds.  A tremor ran through Susan's body.  She
looked down and saw Peter's finger buried part way inside her, held back
only by the thin cotton.  Her rapid breathing was making her light-headed.
She reached down and put her hand on Peter's cheek, then tangled her
fingers in his dark, curly hair.  He began to lean forward, to move towards
her.

   No! That wasn't what she'd meant.  She'd just wanted to touch him.  But
his face moved irresistibly closer to her pussy.  She was about to say
something, to let him know that this had gone far enough, when his lips
brushed her inner thigh.  She cried out so loudly she was sure someone in
the common room must have heard her.  Peter moved his hands so that they
were holding her hips, his fingers sliding under the lower hem of her
panties, digging into her bare flesh.  He was kissing her thighs, moving
closer to her center.  Her hand was still tangled in his hair; she could
easily push him away.  But she felt his warm breath against her skin, saw
his nostrils flare as he breathed her scent in.  Now his tongue was
tickling the straining fabric of her panties.

   She spread her legs a little wider.  On one side, the hem of her panties
had slipped into the cleft of her pussy, exposing one outer lip.  Peter
roughly pulled her hips closer to his face.  His tongue dragged along the
silky skin at the very top of her thigh until he made contact with her soft
fold, now slick with the moisture leaking from inside her.  Susan inhaled
sharply.  She'd never felt anything like this.  Her body went limp.  Peter
lapped at her exposed flesh, nuzzling it with his lips, licking up the
moisture.  Her panties dug into her pussy, almost painful.

   Then, abruptly, the pressure was gone.  She looked down, a little dazed
from the torrent of sensations.  It took her a moment to understand what
had happened.  Peter had moved the crotch of her panties to one side.  He
was on his knees between her spread-open legs, staring at her bare pussy.

   Susan came instantly to her senses.  She put her hand on Peter's and
firmly removed it.  She readjusted her underwear and smoothed her skirt
back over her thighs.

   "No," she said, sighing.  "I'm sorry.  That's enough."

   Peter took a long, deep breath and stood up unsteadily.  "I'm going to
break it off with Kate," he said.  "I'm seeing her tomorrow night.  I'll do
it then."

   Susan struggled to make sense of her feelings.  Her pulse was still
racing.  She willed it to slow down.

   "No," she said.  "That won't help.  Kate is a little ditzy, sure.  But
she isn't stupid.  If we start going out together, she'll know what
happened.  That will just make it worse."

   Peter rolled his eyes.  Susan figured that she probably looked every bit
as frustrated as he did.

   "We've never even been out on a date," she said, reasonably.  "Who knows
if we'll even like each other?  But Kate's my roommate.  That won't change.
If she moves on to someone else  -" nothing personal, but she goes through
guys every few weeks  -" well, that would be a different story."

   She could see Peter struggling to get himself back under control.  He
flopped down on his desk chair, just a couple of feet away.  His hair was
charmingly messed up, and a few of his shirt buttons had come undone,
exposing a bit of broad, muscular chest.  Well, she'd seen that before. 
But still ...

   "Give me your hands," he said.

   She looked at him quizzically, but put her hands out in front of her. 
He took them between his.  She felt completely in his power. 

   "We'll do it your way.  I don't want to do anything to make you
uncomfortable.  But I want to see you.  I want to spend time with you."

   She had said no the last time he'd asked.  And she was still pretty sure
that it was a bad idea.  Things never seemed to go according to plan when
he was around.  But he was holding her hands, and she didn't know how to
refuse him while he was doing that. 

   She nodded.  "That would be nice.  But somewhere ...  public.  Not your
room, okay?"

   He nodded.  "Thanks for your help with the physics stuff."

   They looked at each other silently.  Before she could stop herself, she
leaned forward and kissed him on the lips.  Peter pulled her close and his
tongue found hers.  Everything she'd felt earlier welled back up.  Her
hands found the sides of his face, and she wanted to fall backwards on the
narrow bed, pull Peter on top of her ...

   But she pulled back and put her hands in her lap.  "I'd better get
back," she said.

   "Right."

   "I've got studying to do."

   She tried to stay serious, but failed completely.  She started giggling.
"Like that's really going to happen." She stood up. 

   "Friends," she said firmly.

   He nodded.  "Friends.  I'll walk you back."

   She smiled.  She felt safe with him.  It was a good way to feel about a
friend, wasn't it?

   They crossed the campus, not saying anything, listening to the night
sounds.  When he dropped her off in front of her dorm, she stood on her
tiptoes and gave him a peck on the cheek, then ran inside.  She needed a
shower.  Anyone who came near her would surely know what she'd been up to.

   * * *

   Susan got back to her room a few minutes later wrapped in a towel, and
more muddled than ever.  Kate was lying on her bed in her underwear.  She
rolled over slowly when Susan shut the door.

   "You're back late."

   Susan's heart suddenly started beating rapidly.  "I was at a study
session."

   Kate shook her head.  "You really study too much.  When are you going to
have some fun?"

   Susan stifled a giggle.  But she really didn't like being deceptive like
this.  It was exactly what she wanted to avoid.  "Actually, I was in your
boyfriend's suite.  He and the guys there were studying for a physics
exam."

   "Oh, yeah.  I told him he should invite you.  I figured you might meet
someone while you were there."

   Susan shook her head.  "Not really.  His friends didn't make much of an
impression."

   Kate rolled sleepily onto her back.  Susan couldn't help staring at her
body  -" the smooth legs, the feminine swell of her hips, the slightly
rounded stomach, blond hair fanning out around her head, and, of course,
those astonishing breasts.  Even lying on her back they looked so soft and
round, the dark nipples and large aureoles easily visible under her sheer
bra.  Did Peter really plan to ditch her?  Susan wanted to believe it, but,
looking at Kate, she couldn't quite.  He probably wants both of us she
thought ruefully.  Isn't that how guys think?  Hell, he'd probably like to
have our whole suite in his bed.

   But Kate was saying something.  " ...  Friday night.  Why don't you
come?"

   Susan shook her head.  "Sorry, I missed the first part of that."

   Kate grinned.  "Not used to staying up so late?  I said that Peter and I
are going to an off-campus party Friday night.  You should come."

   No, Susan thought.  Bad idea.  She really didn't want to see Kate and
Peter together.

   "You might meet someone," Kate continued.

   "I don't think so," Susan said.  "I really have a lot of work to do."

   * * *

   But she went anyway.  The alternative was another spending another
Friday evening by herself, and she'd been doing too much of that lately.

   A car picked them up at 8 PM, already packed with party-goers, including
Peter and his friend Paul (or was it Vic?) She and Kate squeezed in, Kate
sitting carelessly on some guy's lap.  Susan wasn't sure where they
eventually ended up; somewhere in the hills above the town.  She hoped that
wouldn't be a problem if she decided to bail out early.  The evening was
chilly, and she certainly wasn't dressed for a long walk  -" not with the
low-cut top Kate had talked her into wearing and the short skirt and heels.
Of course, Kate's dress was even more daring: a powder blue number with a
plunging neckline and a hem that barely made it below her butt.  Nor were
they overdressed, Susan decided once they'd walked into the big house at
the end of a tree-lined driveway.  The gathering was hip and sophisticated,
at least for a college-age crowd.  And the interior of the house was pretty
grand too.  The buzz was that mommy and daddy had bought it for one of
their wealthy classmates.

   Susan met the wealthy classmate himself a few minutes later as he filled
her champagne flute.  He looked awfully stylish in a raw silk jacket and
dark, slicked-back hair.  Susan had to admit that he pulled off the silent
movie star look pretty effectively.  Mr.  Smooth, she christened him before
he'd had a chance to introduce himself.

   "I'm Ken," he said, eyeing her unabashedly from head to foot.

   It was actually sort of flattering, she decided, and, what the hell, she
smiled back.  "Susan."

   "Welcome," he said.  "Can I show you around?"

   "Sure."

   They went downstairs first and Ken (Susan wondered if his parents named
him after the doll  -" maybe that's where he got his hairstyle) showed her
the wine cellar.  She'd never actually been in one before.  It was kind of
cold and clammy, actually.  There were racks of bottles all around and a
stained-glass window at the back.  Ken picked out a bottle after some
deliberation.

   "It's a 1989 Margaux reserve," he said, holding it out for inspection.
"Want to try some?"

   "Okay."

   "Let me decant it first."

   He made a little ceremony out of removing the cork and pouring the wine
into a very spiffy-looking cut-glass container.  Susan wished he'd hurry
up. She was freezing.  Not to mention that her nipples were stiff and very
visible under her top.  She hadn't worn a bra; she didn't own one that
would work with what she was wearing.  She wasn't sure that such a bra even
existed.

   Ken poured them both a glass.  He sniffed his, and Susan followed his
lead.  Wow.  Just the aroma made her head spin.  What did they put in this
stuff?  She smelled raspberries and licorice, wood smoke and half a dozen
other things she couldn't quite put her finger on.  It certainly wasn't
anything like the jug wine someone was always sneaking into her dorm.  She
took a sip, and she wasn't cold anymore.  It tasted like sunshine and
orchards and warm summer afternoons.

   Ken was looking at her, amused.  "What do you think?"

   "I've never tasted anything like it."

   "Not many people have.  It comes from a single block of cabernet vines
adjacent to the Garonne estuary.  They only made one hundred cases that
year."

   Susan didn't want to think about how much it must have cost.

   "Come on back upstairs." He put his hand on her bare arm and rubbed it
energetically.  "You're getting goose bumps.  Or perhaps it's just my
beguiling company?"

   This guy really is awfully smooth, Susan thought.  I'm going to have to
watch myself.  "Sure, upstairs would be good.  Besides," she added, because
she could flirt with the best of them, "I'm not sure how much longer I can
trust myself alone in the dark with you."

   Upstairs, the lights were low and loud music was playing.  A few
partiers were standing and talking in the spacious living room.  A couple
snuggled on a cushy love seat (what else?) Susan found herself in a
conversation group that quickly surrounded Ken.  They were talking about
their upcoming winter-break ski trips and jaunts to the Caribbean.  Ken
held court comfortably, obviously used to being the center of attention. 

   Susan used the opportunity to slip away.  She couldn't help wondering
what Kate and Peter were up to.  She hadn't seen either of them since
shortly after they'd all arrived.

   She wandered out to the pool.  A few people she didn't know sat on deck
chairs under a heat lamp.  No help there.  She went back inside and climbed
the sweeping marble staircase that led up from the front entryway.  It was
a lot quieter at the top of the stairs and even darker.

   Someone, a slightly wobbly redhead in a seriously tight dress, stepped
out into the hallway in front of her, the sound of a toilet flushing in her
wake.  Well, Susan thought to herself, I can always claim that I was
looking for a bathroom if anyone asks.  But she walked right past the door
the redhead had just exited.  There was another door farther down the hall
that had light streaming out from underneath it.  Susan stole a look back
the way she'd come, then crept up to the door.

   A shriek of female laughter came from inside the room.  It could have
been Kate, but the sound was too muffled to tell for certain.  Susan moved
closer, until she could reach for the doorknob.  Her heart was pounding. 
Why was she doing this?  What Kate and Peter were up to was none of her
business.  She hesitated at the door for a minute, wanting to leave, her
hand on the doorknob.  Then, slowly, she began to turn it until door opened
slightly.  From where she was standing, she could see a little bit of the
room, but mostly what she saw was someone's back  -" a woman's back.  She
was wearing a pair of form-fitting black pants and nothing else from the
waist up.  The woman had olive skin and shoulder-length dark hair. 
Obviously not Kate.

   Susan was about to step back when the dark-haired girl did a saucy
little shimmy and began to push down on the waistband of her pants.  The
pants slid down over her hips, revealing a black thong and a pair of very
tight buttocks.  Then she began to roll the thong off as well.  She bent
over to step out of her clothes, poking her butt out temptingly in the
process.  In that position Susan could see past her to another, already
naked body stretched out on a big bed.  The denouement of the strip-tease
elicited another shriek of drunken laughter from the person on the bed. 
Susan put her hand to her mouth.  It was female laughter, the same voice
she'd heard earlier.  The dark-haired girl, now utterly naked, skipped over
to join her companion on the bed.

   Susan swallowed hard, trying hard not to make any noise.  She couldn't
stop staring.  For one thing, she recognized the woman on the bed from her
English lit class.  They'd studied together a couple of times.  Now Susan
wouldn't ever be able to look at her the same way again.  Was this what
college was about?  She took a step backwards.  She didn't really need to
see this.  As with Kate and Peter, it was none of her business.  But she
hesitated.  Her only experience with lesbians was from watching girl-girl
scenes in porn movies, and she was pretty sure that didn't have much to do
with reality.  The idea wasn't distasteful to her, exactly.  She'd just
never really been tempted, nor had the opportunity ever presented itself.
She admired other women's bodies, especially lush, feminine ones like
Kate's  -" so different from her own slim, athletic form.  Maybe she could
watch just a little, see what it was really like.  She checked nervously up
and down the dark hallway, then moved back towards the door. 

   The two bodies were stretched out on the bed, arms wrapped around each
other.  There was nothing frantic about their motions.  They were stroking
each other, a hand running softly over the swell of a hip, a fingertip
tracing the curve of an earlobe.  It looked nice, actually.  She wished she
could meet a guy who would treat her that way.  Her heart rate accelerated
again. She could go in, offer to join them.  It was a pretty good bet
they'd happily take her up on it.  If she didn't try things like this in
college, when would she?  It was the time in her life for experimenting ...

   Susan took a deep breath and shook her head.  No.  It looked sweet and
comforting, but it wasn't what she really wanted.  She wanted Peter.

   Maybe, Susan thought, I should use that bathroom after all.

   * * *

   After a few minutes spent rinsing her face and getting herself together,
Susan went back out into the hallway.  Nothing else seemed to be going on
in any of the rooms farther down.  She felt oddly relieved.  There was
another stairway at the far end of the corridor, and she decided to head
down.  The stairs stopped at a landing, turned, then ended in what looked
to be an office.  There were bookshelves and a big desk and a leather couch
that faced the stairs.  Two people sat on the couch, tangled up with each
other, a boy and a girl.  The boy had tousled dark hair, and the girl was a
blond. 

   Peter and Kate.

   So, she'd finally found them.  What had she expected anyway?  That
they'd be playing chess?  She watched them for a moment, totally involved
in one another.  It wasn't hard to guess what would happen next.  Susan
sighed.  She really should head back the way she'd come and leave them
alone.

   The couple shifted on the couch, and Susan froze, holding her breath. 
Had they seen her?  No, she decided.  Nor were they likely to.  They'd have
to turn part-way around and look up into the shadows before they'd notice
her on the landing.  She almost laughed.  This was just like the night Kate
had brought Peter back to their room.  Only, this time, it would be easy
enough to just leave them to themselves.  And that's exactly what I should
do, Susan thought. 

   She half-turned to go back upstairs, then stopped when she saw Kate lean
over and undo Peter's belt buckle.  Kate giggled as Peter started to push
his pants down.  He had to stop and remove his shoes before he could finish
the operation.  Despite herself, Susan had to smile at his frustration  -"
he just couldn't get his shoelaces unknotted.  Kate kept working his pants
down anyway.  As his boxers came into view, Peter's state of arousal became
obvious.  Susan's heart began to beat harder in her chest.

   Peter was still struggling to get his pants off, but Kate couldn't wait.
She grabbed his shorts and pulled at them, growing more and more frantic as
the fabric hung up on his erection.  Finally, Peter reached up to help her
and his cock popped free.  Kate made a happy giggle and leaned over to take
him into her mouth.  Peter slid forward on the couch to give her better
access.

   Susan felt paralyzed.  She could see Kate's lips sink all the way down
into the curly dark hair at the base of his shaft, then slide up until the
tip came free.  She licked around the base of the head, making Peter groan
and jerk his hips upwards.  Kate swallowed his cock again, lowering her
head deep into his crotch.  Susan hugged herself miserably.  There was an
urgency to their motions that stirred the now-familiar feelings deep inside
of her.  She felt the irresistible pressure building in her loins.  Her
face flushed crimson.  She just couldn't stop watching them.

   The strain was showing on Peter's face too.  His body stiffened.  Was he
going to come already?  Kate must have sensed it too.  She sat up,
releasing his cock.  Peter gasped, breathing hard, obviously disappointed.
Kate leaned over and gave him a deep, languorous kiss.  She broke it after
a minute and pulled her dress up to expose her legs all the way up to her
panties.  She lifted her hips off the couch, reached beneath the dress and
rolled her panties up and over her thighs until they hung uselessly around
one ankle.  Peter just stared as she spread her legs apart.  Even from
twenty feet away Susan could see the moisture coating her puffy pussy lips.

   Peter was still mesmerized.  Kate lowered her body sideways until she
was lying on her back, her wide-spread thighs gyrating slowly, her pussy
dripping onto the couch cushion.  Peter finally broke out of his trance and
crawled awkwardly into a horizontal position between Kate's legs.  He
struggled to get out of his pants and shorts, and his shirt was still
partially on as well.  To Susan's disappointment, the shirt was just long
enough to cover most of his butt.  She wanted to see all of him, just like
the last time.  She doubted she'd ever get another chance.

   Peter aligned his hips over Kate's.  She reached between them to nudge
his cock head into position, and he pushed in all at once.  Kate drew in
her breath sharply.  She wrapped her hands around his butt and pulled him
all the way inside her.  Susan hugged herself tighter as Peter began to
move.  Her own pussy began to throb in time with Peter's thrusts, begging
to be touched. Not here, she told herself desperately.  I can't.  Not
here. Not now.

   Kate began to lift her hips to meet his, and their bodies collided with
loud, wet slaps.  Again, Peter stiffened.  His motions became jerky and he
moved faster.  Kate put her hands on his chest.  She pushed him back onto
the couch and wriggled out from underneath him.  Peter almost collapsed. 
Poor guy, Susan thought.  How much more of this can he take?  But Kate knew
exactly what she was doing.  She got onto her knees at one end of the couch
and bent her upper body over the arm.  Peter just looked at her for a
moment.  His cock was slick with Kate's fluids and stuck out like a pole,
the head a dark, angry red.

   Kate looked back at him, her expression a glazed half-smile.  Her bare
butt swayed in slow, seductive circles.

   "Come on," she whispered.  "Put it back in.  You know I like it this
way."

   Her voice shook Peter out of his stupor.  He knelt on the couch behind
her and grabbed her hips.  He positioned his cock and drove it in with a
low growl.  The sound penetrated deep into Susan's being.  She couldn't
move, couldn't even blink.  Peter rammed into Kate's pussy, their bodies
coming together harder and harder, Kate's voice rising in pitch with each
stroke, Peter's partly-hidden buttocks tightening as he drove forward. 
Sweat was making his shirt stick to his back, and his hands dug into her
hips ...

   And then something was different. 

   For a moment Susan didn't react; she couldn't quite make sense out of
what was happening to her, couldn't drag her attention away from the primal
scene in front of her.  There was a pressure on her back, she realized, and
on her shoulder.  There was a tickling against her neck and a low voice
whispering.

   "Shhh.  Don't speak.  It's Ken."

   She started to pull away, to scream, but Ken's voice calmed her.

   "It's just me.  I didn't mean to frighten you."

   Susan began to shake, but she didn't answer.  She was afraid of making
any noise.  She didn't know what to do.  Ken was standing directly behind
her on the landing, kissing her neck and stroking her arm softly.  She'd
been so wrapped up looking at Kate and Peter that she hadn't heard him.

   "I've been watching too.  They're pretty amazing." Ken's voice was a
low, seductive murmur.  His hand kept stroking her arm while his other hand
moved along her hip.  His animal warmth flowed through the thin fabric to
her skin.

   "I was just ...  I got kind of lost," Susan breathed.

   "That's all right," Ken said.

   The pressure from behind increased.  She felt a hard protrusion pushing
her skirt between her buttocks.  She tried to twist away, but his arms held
her on both sides.  Well, they were just stroking her, really.  But,
somehow, the contact, the rhythmic touch kept her where she was.  Susan's
shuddered, her heart beating so hard now she couldn't think.  What should
she do?

   "Look at that," Ken whispered.

   Peter had pushed Kate's dress up over her back so that almost all of her
body was exposed.  Kate was screaming now with each of his thrusts.  Ken's
hands stroked Susan's arm and hip in synchrony with the couple's motions,
as if he were an extension of Peter's body.

   "Your skin is so smooth," Ken said. 

   His hand moved from her arm and began to wrap around her.  One fingertip
brushed the bare skin above the top of her dress, where her breasts began
to swell out from her chest.  Her nipples were already as hard as pebbles.
When he dragged his thumb across the fabric covering one of them, Susan
jumped and had to bite her lip to keep from screaming.

   Ken kissed her neck again and nuzzled his lips along her ear.  "You
really are very beautiful," he said.

   The hand on her hip inched downward until it found the hem of her skirt.
She should have worn something longer, she realized, fighting off panic. 
She should have worn a bra.  She shouldn't have come to the party at all
...

   His hand moved under the hem and touched her leg, burning hot on her
bare skin.  It slid upward along her outer thigh until it came to rest on
her hip.  Susan was breathing so hard it hurt her throat.

   "Look at them," Ken was saying.

   Peter had finally pulled his shirt off, and Susan could see the muscles
working in his back as he pumped into Kate.  Their bodies were moving
together smoothly now, their rhythm steady, sweat trickling along Peter's
shoulder blades and shining on Kate's butt.

   Maybe they could just stay like this, she and Ken, watching together,
his hands holding her ...  almost gently.  Susan started to relax a little.
She felt ...  she wasn't sure how she felt.  It was okay somehow to watch
if there were two of you.  It seemed more like an intimate act, less of a
violation.

   But Ken's hands didn't stay still.  The one roaming across her chest
pulled one strap of her top down off her shoulder.  He pulled it lower
still until her right breast came free.  Susan's body turned rigid.  Anyone
walking by could see her!  The smelly guy she'd squeezed in next to on the
ride over, or Peter's stupid friend.  Or Peter himself  -" all he had to do
was to turn towards the stairs ...

   "Lovely," Ken said.  "You're even more beautiful naked." 

   He put his hand over her breast and stroked her lightly.  The nipple was
so sensitive  -" every brush of his fingers sent a jolt through her that
made her back arch.  She whimpered and her legs began to wobble.  She had
to lean further back against him just to stay upright, driving the bulge in
his pants deeper into the crevice between her cheeks.  His lips kept
kissing her neck and her ear.  His other hand began to play with the
waistband of her panties.

   It all seemed so unreal  -" Peter and Kate in their endless liquid
rhythm, the big dark house, Ken whispering in her ear, the rigid cock
jammed against her bottom.  Was any of it really happening?  She noted
absently that Peter had pulled out of Kate and had sat back on the couch.
His eyes were closed and he was trying to catch his breath.  His cock stood
up from his lap, wet and shiny and quivering slightly.  God, he looked hot,
Susan thought.

   Kate must have thought so too.  She stood up, shook back her hair and
straddled him.  Peter groaned, and Susan wondered if he was really ready
for the next act of their performance.  But Kate was insatiable.  She
lowered herself a bit and tilted her hips until they were lined up
properly, then settled down onto his lap with a soft cry.  She put her
hands on Peter's shoulders and began to slide her hips up and down.  Susan
could see the thick shaft of Peter's cock as Kate rose up and his balls at
its base, stretched tight.

   God, Susan thought, I can't watch any more of this.  Just then Ken's
fingers slipped under the waistband of her panties and began ruffling the
soft patch of hair above her pussy.  His hand paused, waiting to see if she
would resist.  But Susan couldn't move, couldn't speak.  Too many
sensations were flooding into her head.  She kept trying to sort them out
as Ken's fingers went lower, until his palm covered her pussy and his index
finger began stroking her swollen outer lips.

   Now, Susan thought, I have to do something.  I have to ...

   But she couldn't stop staring at Peter's thick hard cock and the flesh
of Kate's butt as it jiggled with each wet impact.  And all she could think
about was where she wanted to be touched next, where she was the most
sensitive ...

   He was playing with her pussy lips now, pushing them apart, smearing
them with her own moisture.  He was teasing her, toying with her, and she
just couldn't wait any longer.  She rotated her hips reflexively ...  and
suddenly his index finger slipped inside her, brushing against her clit as
it sank deep into her most private place.  Streaks of light arced in front
of her eyes.  Her legs trembled and then gave way.  Ken's arm steadied her,
but she couldn't remain upright.  She was down awkwardly on one knee,
breathing in gasps; then she was lying sprawled on her back on the carpet
of the landing, her legs spread, her skirt bunched up at her hips.

   The feeling of blurry unreality returned.  Maybe it had something to do
with her breathing so hard.  She thought about her panties.  She knew Ken
could see them, the way she was lying with her legs so far apart.  They
were soaked; they must be nearly transparent.  But that didn't really
matter, because a moment later he was kneeling over her, pulling them down
her legs as Susan lifted her hips to help him.  She was happy to be rid of
them.  She liked the feeling  -" the cool night air against her bare pussy.

   She raised her head a little.  Ken had positioned himself over her, his
weight on his elbows.  Mostly what she could see of him was the top of his
head and lots of well-groomed brown hair.  His head dipped down and she
could feel his tongue tickling her exposed breast, licking little circles
around the nipple.  Then he sucked the whole breast into his mouth.  Susan
choked back a cry.  No one had ever done that to her before, and it put her
senses into overload.  She couldn't keep anything in focus.  Now he had the
nipple between his lips and was flicking it with his tongue.  She reached
down, wanting to run her fingers through his hair, to pull him closer, but
suddenly he wasn't there.

   The sensations ebbed, and Susan tried to collect her thoughts.  She
raised her head again and found that Ken had moved down between her legs.
He breathed in deeply, inhaling her scent.  His tongue nuzzled her inner
thigh and lapped at her pussy lips, licking up her moisture.  He made a
deep growl as he tasted her.  Peter had tried to do the same thing just a
few days earlier, and she'd stopped him.  But she couldn't stop Ken, she
couldn't stop herself.  Not tonight.  She loved the way his lips felt on
her skin, caressing her, exploring her, drinking her ...  Her hips bucked
up; and then his mouth was everywhere, probing inside her, nibbling on her
inner lips, searching for her clit.  Susan tried to stay quiet, but she
couldn't.  She began to moan as he swirled his tongue around inside her;
she could feel her clit swelling, the tip of his tongue moving against it
... 

   And then, suddenly, nothing else mattered.  There wasn't a psychology
paper due on Monday, or a boyfriend she wanted but couldn't have, or a
roommate who drove her crazy.  There were only Ken's lips and her breath
coming fast and hard and a rising orgasm she couldn't control.  Her hips
thrashed, jamming into Ken's face.

   "I want ...  please, I want you to ..." She couldn't catch her breath
long enough to finish.  But Ken already seemed to know what she wanted. 
His tongue began to churn around her clit, licking over the top of it,
pushing it back and forth.  His hands slipped under her bottom, gripping
her buttocks.  The molten pressure in her loins built unbearably ...

   Then Ken let go of her.  Susan groaned in frustration.  She wanted his
fingers there, squeezing her flesh, digging into her.  But then his hands
were back on her thighs, forcing her legs farther apart.  She was
completely open, completely exposed.  His thumbs worked her pussy lips
farther apart, allowing his tongue to reach even deeper.  Susan whimpered
and her hips bucked uncontrollably against his face.  Her hands grabbed at
the carpet.  Then Ken's lips surrounded her swollen clit and sucked it hard
into his mouth.

   Susan screamed as her orgasm ripped through her.  Her body spasmed and
her legs pulled up against her chest as she twisted to one side.  Ken's
head was trapped between her thighs, his face still buried in her crotch.
His lips kept lathing her clit and lapping up the moisture that flooded out
of her.

   "Stop," she managed to gasp.  "I can't stand any more." She was almost
crying.  "Ken, please ..."

   But his tongue kept moving against her, his lips nibbling, caressing. 
Another orgasm hit her.  The wine, the two women on the bed, Peter and
Kate, Ken's voice and his hands and his lips.  She just couldn't help
herself.  She let out a long wail as her body shook and tried to turn
inside out.

   * * *

   Susan blinked.  There was a face above her, looking concerned.

   "Susan, are you okay?  You just sort of went limp."

   She took a deep breath.  The face was Ken's.  She liked the way his
voice sounded.  More like a real person; less like a talking doll.

   "I guess I passed out for a second.  Wow.  That's never happened
before."

   Ken grinned.  "I'm flattered."

   Susan blushed.  "Yeah."

   She reached up and put a hand on his cheek.  It felt nice.  Warm and
freshly shaven.  She leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the lips. 
"Can you give me a ride home?"

   "Of course."

   Susan's head was clearing.  She sat up and looked around.  They were
alone.

   "What happened to Kate and Peter?"

   Ken looked confused for a moment.  "Who?  The couple on the couch?  They
scooped up their clothes and left  -" pretty quickly.  I think they got a
little spooked.  We were sort of ...  noisy."

   "You mean I was noisy."

   Ken looked a little embarrassed.  That's sweet, Susan thought.  She
leaned over and kissed him again.  The kissed started off as playful and
friendly, but then Ken's arms came around her shoulders and her lips parted
and their tongues found each other.

   After a minute, Susan pulled back, breathing hard.  "Lie down," she
said. "On your back."

   Ken looked uncertain, but followed orders.  Susan got up onto her knees
and began to unbuckle his pants.

   "Hey," he said.  "You don't have to ..."

   "I want to," she whispered, her voice suddenly low and urgent.

   She noticed for the first time how excited he was.  His loose linen
trousers bulged impressively.  Her fingers felt clumsy.  She couldn't get
the belt undone at first, and then she struggled with the button at the top
of his fly.  She took a breath to steady herself and finally managed to
work the button loose.  The zipper was easy, and Ken lifted his hips so
that he could pull his pants down.  He was wearing blue-and-white striped
boxers, the fabric pulled taut by his engorged cock.  She just stared at
his crotch for a moment, wondering if she had the nerve to go on.  She
could see the tip of his cock outlined beneath the thin material, straining
to get out.  A fat dome with a slight cleft on the inner side and a
prominent ridge where the head met the shaft.  As she watched, his cock
twitched a little and a small wet spot began to form above the tip.

   Susan ran her tongue across her lips.  Her hands were still shaking, but
she reached down and stroked the head of his cock through his shorts.  Ken
inhaled sharply.  Susan liked the feeling of his warm, firm skin beneath
the sheer fabric.  She stroked him again, this time trailing her fingers
down further so that they outlined his balls.  Ken twitched again, and the
wet patch on his shorts spread.  She took a deep breath.  Now or never. 

   She grabbed the waistband of his shorts and lifted it gingerly.  Again,
Ken raised his hips.  Susan maneuvered the boxers over the end of his cock
and tugged them down to his knees.  She giggled to herself.  He sure
doesn't look much like a Ken doll now.  His cock stood straight up from a
nest of brown curly hair.  It was thick and sturdy with a dark, pulsating
vein running up its length from his balls.  The circumcised head was
flushed a dark red.  She just gaped for a moment, feeling a little faint.

   She steadied herself and put her hands on his thighs, moving them
upwards towards his balls and touching him so lightly that she could feel
the rustle of his fine brown hair against her palms.

   Ken sighed.  "That's really nice."

   She stroked his thighs again, letting her fingers linger for a moment at
the bottom of his scrotum.  His cock twitched hard.  Was she tickling him,
she wondered?  No, that was something else, something more powerful.  The
skin around his balls was meltingly smooth and almost hot to the touch. 
She traced the shape of one testicle, then the other before drawing her
finger up the shaft along the vein.  She could feel the blood thudding
inside it.  Why did that excite her so much?  And the feel of the skin
along the ridge that separated the shaft from the head  -" it was like
velvet.

   Susan couldn't wait any longer.  She leaned closer, near enough to smell
the need that steamed from his groin.  His musk filled her head.  She was
fascinated by how alive his cock was, blood-filled, straining up towards
her.  There was a bead of clear liquid oozing from the very tip.  As she
watched, the tiny slit pulsed and more liquid dripped down into the cleft
in the head.

   She couldn't help herself.  She swirled her tongue over the tip and
licked up the pre-cum.  It tasted like ...  she wasn't sure what it tasted
like.  Like nothing.  Like sex.  The little taste wasn't enough.  She
leaned down further and covered the entire tip with her mouth, pushing the
little slip open with her tongue.  Ken groaned, and his body jerked
upwards, shoving more of his cock into her mouth.  Susan gagged and pulled
back, struggling to catch her breath.

   "Hey, I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to do that.  It's just that ...  the
thing you did with your tongue ...  it just ...  wow."

   Susan smiled.  So she could surprise even this sophisticated preppie.

   "Could you ...  you know, do it some more?"

   Yes, she thought, I definitely can.  Susan had always been intimidated
by blowjobs.  There was such a mystique surrounding them.  And her high
school boyfriend hadn't been very complimentary about her efforts.  But she
really wanted to do it now.  His cock, slick with her saliva, exerted an
almost magnetic attraction.  She moved around so that she could get a
better angle and leaned over again to surround the head with her lips.  She
could feel his heartbeat below its smooth surface.  She ran her tongue
along the big vein.  The skin felt a little different there, it gave more
when she pressed the tip of her tongue against it.  The rest of the shaft
was so firm by comparison.  Her lips just molded around it, sliding down so
smoothly that the tip hit the back of her throat before she was ready for
it.  She loved that feeling, his cock touching her everywhere, his musk
filling her nostrils, her nose nuzzling his pubic hair.

   She felt Ken twitching and, a very long way away, heard his groans.  She
reached down to hold his balls.  Semen was building inside; the sac
stretched tight.

   "Oh, God," Ken groaned, and a shudder ran through his body.  His cock
seemed to grow bigger in her throat, pushing deeper.  He held him there,
sucking air through her nose.  She felt the first blast, white-hot and
slippery.  She swallowed hard, trying to stay with him, but she couldn't.
There was just too much of it.  She sat up, releasing his cock from her
mouth wetly.  Ken groaned again and his body twisted as another spurt flew
towards her.  Susan watched in fascination as he emptied himself, his hips
bucking, grunts escaping from him with each burst.

   Gradually, his orgasm subsided and his labored breathing eased.  Globs
of cum coated his stomach and his partly unbuttoned shirt, and some of it
had even ended up on his pants and shoes.  His cock had jumped around like
a fire hose after she'd let go of it.  What a mess.

   Ken looked a little sheepish.  "I should ...  probably change before I
drive you back.  Is that all right?"

   Susan leaned over and kissed him lightly.  "Of course.  I'll wait."

   "Are you sure you don't want to stay over tonight?  I whip up some mean
blueberry pancakes ..."

   Susan frowned.  Mr.  Smooth was threatening to return.  "Maybe next
time." She kissed him again and stood up.  "I'll be downstairs."

   Ken struggled to his feet, holding his pants up with one hand.  "Right,"
he said, hobbling off.  "I'll be down in a minute."

   Susan tried to return to reality as she straightened out her clothes. 
She had no idea where her panties had ended up.  Well, never mind.  They
were a hopeless mess anyway.  More consequential was the thought that she'd
have to face Kate and Peter at some point.  What had they seen?  Did they
realize that it was her on the landing?  Or had they just seen a pair of
bare legs wrapped around Ken's head?  And even if they had recognized her,
what difference did it really make?  What had happened was her own affair.
She didn't belong to anyone.

   But it did bother her.  She couldn't help it.  She wanted Peter to think
well of her.  She didn't want him to think that she'd spread her legs for
any smooth operator who handed her a nice glass of wine.  And that wasn't
really what had happened.  There was more to Ken.  She was sure about that.
Pretty sure, anyway.  Not that it mattered  -" she was under no illusions
that she'd ever see him again.  But watching Peter and Kate go at it  -"
that would blow away anyone's inhibitions.  Even after cumming harder than
she could ever remember doing in her life, she could feel a pressure
building again in her loins just thinking about Peter's butt tightening as
he plunged into Kate from behind, his skin shining with sweat. Stop it,
she said to herself.  It's time to go home.  Long past time. 

   But she knew it wasn't over.  Things couldn't just stay the way they
were.

   Susan took a deep breath, composed herself, and walked downstairs.



   College Girls Ch.  02

   The morning was chilly, but Susan still felt like having breakfast
outside.  Almost as soon as she'd sat down she heard someone coming up
behind her.  She looked up from her yogurt and saw Peter standing nearby,
shifting nervously from one foot to the other.

   "You know my habits," she said, smiling.  "Join me?"

   Peter shook his head.  "I'd love to, but I'm kind of late.  I was hoping
that I'd run into you so that ...  I could invite you to dinner on
Thursday." The last part came out a little too quickly. 

   She smiled again.  She liked it when he was shy and uncertain.  She
hadn't seen Peter since the party at Ken's house the previous week, and ...
well, she missed him.  She missed him a lot.  He'd said that he wanted to
spend some time with her; and she'd been waiting with increasing impatience
for him to ask.  But she needed to be clear. 

   "Just dinner?"

   Peter nodded.  His confidence was returning.  "Yes, just dinner.  But
there's something I'd like to show you afterwards."

   Susan giggled  -" she couldn't help herself.  "Nothing of yours, I
hope?"

   "I wish.  It's cylindrical and enormous, but it belongs to a friend of
mine."

   She played along.  "I hope you'll introduce me."

   "Well, he'll be out for the evening.  But I'm looking after it for him."

   Susan shook her head.  "I give up."

   "Good.  7:30?"

   * * *

   They picked a restaurant where they weren't likely to see anyone they
knew.  Susan had to take a cab to get there, which was extravagant.  But
that was her fault.  She had wanted to do it that way.  Peter was waiting
in a booth at the back, looking dapper in a black button-down oxford shirt.
Susan looked around, a little furtively.  An older man, out with his wife,
eyed her appreciatively.  But there wasn't anyone she recognized.

   "It feels like we're having an affair," she said.  "But without any of
the good parts."

   "We could fix that ..." Peter said hopefully.

   She gave him a scowl that was only partly playful, and he dropped the
subject.  They chatted comfortably after that, like old friends.  Susan
felt unexpectedly happy.  It was because she didn't feel any pressure, she
realized.  There was no place their relationship was supposed to go,
nothing she felt she should or shouldn't do or say.  As Peter told her
about the anthropology field work he'd done the previous summer, Susan
relaxed even more.  Maybe they really could just be friends.  She'd like
that.

   By the time dinner was over, Susan was giggling at everything Peter
said, even if it wasn't meant to be funny.  She was still a little giddy as
they left the restaurant and got into his car.  He drove into the hills
north of town.  For a moment, Susan was afraid that Peter was going to
suggest they park on the ridge up there that looked out over the city
lights and make out like high-school kids.  She tensed up at the thought.
But no, he kept on driving, and Susan felt oddly disappointed. 

   They reached an elegant-looking house with a large open yard behind it.
The house was dark and had that slightly creepy no-one's-home look.  Susan
glanced at Peter a little suspiciously, but he just pointed towards the
back yard and a small round building a little distance from the main house.
Peter seemed to have a key for it.  Her first impression of the dim
interior left her more puzzled than ever.  They'd stepped into a small room
dominated by a desk laden with computers and humming electronic equipment.
There was a big, comfy-looking couch against the opposite wall and a door
that presumably led deeper into the building.

   Susan leaned close to Peter, conspiratorially, and lowered her voice. 
"So you're a spy?  Is that it?  I'd always suspected as much."

   He grinned.  "Yes, well, I knew I'd have to tell you sooner or later."
He looked insufferably smug.  "Actually, this is called the 'warm room'."

   "Implying a cold room somewhere nearby?"

   He indicated the inside door.  "Right this way."

   They stepped through the door and into a larger and even darker space
with a concrete floor.  It was indeed quite chilly.  As her eyes adjusted,
Susan could make out a metal framework that formed a large cylinder mounted
at an angle to a steel pipe.  She nodded, finally getting it.

   "An observatory."

   "Right.  One of the biggest private ones in the state, apparently. 
Built by a friend of mine named Jason.  If you ever meet him he'll tell you
all about it.  Just make sure you don't have anything else planned for that
evening.  Anyway, you said that you were interested in astronomy."

   Susan looked around, trying to take it all in.

   "Of course," Peter continued, "if I had his money, I'd probably buy a
Lamborghini instead ..."

   "That's because you're shallow and narcissistic."

   "Right.  I love you too."

   Susan let that one slide.  "How does it work?" she asked, pointing to
the telescope.  "Can we look through it?"

   "That's why we're here.  You can control everything from the warm room,
if you want to stay, you know, warm.  But then you'll just be looking at a
computer screen.  It's just not the same.  It's like looking at a
photograph of someone instead of the real person."

   Peter studied her for a moment and smiled.  She smiled back.  "Not that
I wouldn't mind having a photograph of you," he said.

   "Later.  How do you turn it on or whatever?"

   Peter sighed.  "I don't know the details.  Jason just left it set up in
idiot mode for me.  Any favorite objects you'd like to look at?"

   She thought about that for a second.  "Sure.  How about the Andromeda
galaxy?  Can you do that?"

   "I'll try." 

   He walked up to a small display screen at the base of the telescope.  He
typed something and the roof of the building slid open slowly.  Very cool,
Susan thought.  I want one of these for my bedroom for warm summer nights.
The telescope slewed around and settled into a position pointing almost
straight up.

   "I guess Andromeda is near the zenith at the moment." He peered into the
eyepiece and nodded.  "Have a look.  You might have to re-focus."

   Susan studied the instrument for a moment.  There was a big camera
attachment off to one side.  Otherwise, it looked like a lot like the
little telescope she'd pestered her dad to buy for her when she was
fourteen and all her friends wanted ponies.  She had to lean over quite a
bit to get her head lined up properly with the eyepiece.  She noticed Peter
taking advantage of her position to admire the way her black pants
stretched over her rear.  She smiled to herself and ignored him.  She
tweaked the focusing knob until ...

   "Oh, my god, there it is!"

   A swirl of stars filled her field of vision, brilliantly clear and
surprisingly colorful.  She'd seen photographs of this galaxy  -" she even
had an astronomy book that had it on its cover.  But Peter was right. 
Really seeing it ...  It was like going to Paris and actually seeing the
Eiffel Tower or the Mona Lisa.

   "I guess this is why people have telescopes," Susan said.  "Normal
people, I mean.  Not scientists."

   "Well, I'm not sure that Jason fully qualifies as normal ..."

   "You're just jealous.  How long have you known him?"

   "About a month."

   "Just a month?  And he lets you use his observatory when he isn't
around?"

   "I think he sees me as a kindred spirit.  I'm not sure that's an
entirely good thing."

   Peter was grinning, though.  He fiddled with the keyboard again. 
"Here's a globular cluster Jason showed me.  I like all the purples and
blues.  But, really, you can point this thing just about anywhere and it's
one wonder after another."

   They traded smiles as Peter moved the telescope around.  The ring nebula
in Lyra was wisp of blue vapor, the crab nebula like the chaos of a Jackson
Pollock canvas.  Susan felt like a kid in a candy store.  But there was
something Peter had said that was bothering her.

   "You just met Jason a month ago?  About the same time we met?"

   "The next day, actually.  You told me that you were interested in
astronomy, so I asked my physics professor if he knew any amateurs in the
area who had telescopes.  He introduced me to Jason."

   "Wow.  Just so you could take me here?"

   "Pretty much, yes."

   "What would you have done if I'd told you that I was interested in lion
taming?"

   Peter looked at the floor.  "Are you angry?"

   "No.  Not at all.  I think that was really sweet.  I'm just ... 
surprised, I guess.  That you'd go to that much trouble."

   "No trouble at all.  I think it's just as cool as you do.  Okay, cool
isn't the right word.  It's really pretty nerdy.  But it got me alone with
you in a dark room, right?"

   She nodded and took a step closer to him.  "Yes.  It did.  So what are
you going to do about it?"

   They were facing each other, only a few inches apart.  The invitation
had been as clear as she could make it.  She hadn't planned it this way. 
Exactly the opposite, actually.  But something had changed.  Her
reservations had evaporated the instant she'd looked into the eyepiece. 
Why?  Were galaxies and nebulae erotic?  There was no time to wonder about
that.  A heartbeat later there was no distance at all between them.  Peter
lifted her chin and kissed her.  Her arms went around his neck, pulling
them even closer together, and his warmth flowed into her, dissolving the
chill of the observatory.

   After a long time, Peter broke the kiss.  "There's a couch in the warm
room," he said.

   Susan nodded, barely able to speak.  "Okay."

   Her legs began to shake as she followed him into the small room, and she
had to sit down on the couch.  Her hands were clumsy as she tried to undo
her blouse; the buttons on her sleeves took three or four tries.  She
kicked off her shoes, unzipped her pants and shimmied out of them.  She was
wearing her prettiest underwear  -" light blue, sheer and silky.  The high
cut of the panties exposed the sides of her hips, and her nipples, hard as
pebbles, were easily visible through the filmy fabric of the bra.  Without
admitting it to herself, she was thinking this might happen when she'd
dressed that evening.

   "These stay on," she said, indicating her wispy underthings.  "'Cause,
you know."

   Peter sighed.  "Yeah, I know."

   He wasn't doing much better than she had with the buttons on his shirt.
She waited, sitting nervously on the edge of the couch, looking down, her
hands in her lap, feeling very vulnerable and exposed.  The rustling of
clothes seemed to go on for a long time.  When she finally looked up, Peter
was standing next to her, completely naked.

   "Oh," she said, flustered.  She'd expected him to leave his shorts on,
to sort of keep things even.  She thought about asking him to put some
clothes back on, but that seemed a little ridiculous.  And ...  well, she
really wanted to look at him.  When she'd seen him before it had been so
furtive, through half-closed eyes in her dorm or across that dark room in
Ken's house.  But here he was, right in front of her, all of him: the
smooth columns of his legs, the neat rows and columns on his taut stomach,
the muscles playing in his arms as he reached for her.  And his cock
sticking straight up, long and pale and quivering slightly.  She wanted to
wrap her hands around it; she'd wanted to since the night she first saw
him, and now there it was, just a few inches away ... 

   But she couldn't quite bring herself to do it, not yet.  She reached out
tentatively and laid one hand on his chest instead.  He stood still and let
her caress him.  His skin was soft, but she was always aware of the muscles
beneath it, tough and vital.  She ran her hand down his stomach and along
his hip.  Without exactly meaning to, her arm brushed against the tip of
his cock.  Peter shuddered.

   Susan pulled her hand away quickly.  No.  She couldn't do it.  She
couldn't touch him there.  Being half-naked like this was all right,
somehow.  But that would take her somewhere else, somewhere she couldn't
let herself go.

   Peter hesitated, then sat down beside her on the couch and leaned over
to kiss her.  That was better, much better.  She let the kiss swallow all
her thoughts until she was completely lost in it, her eyes closing, her
body bending towards his.  She realized vaguely that his hands were on her
bare shoulders and without meaning to she was falling slowly backward until
she was lying on her back.  Peter shifted his body until he was alongside
her and his lips found hers again.  So much of him was touching her; what
they'd done before had been so fleeting, a quick kiss, a few touches.  This
felt so much more complete.  They could take their time, explore each
other.

   He lay between her thighs now and the hair on his legs tickled her
sensitive skin.  She put her hands on his shoulders tentatively and ran
them down his back, bumping over his ribcage, wanting to feel the firmness
of his butt.  She'd been dying to touch it since she'd watched him from
behind, pumping in and out of Kate as she lay bent over the arm of Ken's
couch.  Susan moved her fingertips a little further down, to where his
buttocks began to curve up from his lower back.  Peter's kisses became more
urgent; his tongue probed deeper into her mouth.  Susan's pussy throbbed so
badly she could barely stand it.  Peter shifted down a little until his
cock, brutally hard now, pressed against her mound. Oh, god, she thought.
I have to have him.

   His hips shifted back, easing the pressure for a moment.  Susan tried to
catch her breath.  And then suddenly she felt the head of his cock pushing
the fabric of her panties into her pussy.  The tip, all of it, strained at
her opening.  If it weren't for that little bit of cloth he'd be ...

   Peter grunted and jerked his hips forward, desperate to drive himself
deeper inside.  Susan's body didn't know how to react, the wanting him and
not wanting him left her paralyzed, her eyes wide, her mouth open. 
Finally, Peter took a deep breath and willed himself to stop.  He lifted
himself onto his elbows, his chest heaving, sweat beading on his forehead.

   "I'm sorry," he said.  "I just lost control ..."

   "I know," Susan said thickly.  Me too."

   He collected himself for a moment then leaned down to kiss her neck. 
She closed her eyes and let her fingers stray across his butt, following
the curve of the taut muscles.  His lips grazed her skin, his breath
warming each spot.  He kissed her along the edge of her bra strap, stopping
as he reached the top of one cup.  Then he surprised her by pulling the
strap down until the cup had peeled partway back, exposing the top of her
breast and a sliver of pink aureole.  Susan saw his nostrils flare, his
eyes move down her chest.

   I'll stop him if he pulls it any lower, she thought, not sure if she
really would.  But he didn't.  He just dragged his tongue across the
flushed, sensitive skin below her neck.  His hand moved between their
bodies, stroking her belly, tracing the edge of her hip, teasing the skin
above her panties.

   And then he did it again, grabbing the top of her panties and pulling
them down.  Susan gasped when she realized what had happened.  The
waistband was now halfway down her hips, freeing a puff of pubic hair.  The
protection her minimal clothing provided had become even more ephemeral. 
Peter looked down at her, his eyes lingering on the remaining triangles of
fabric.  He moved his head down until he could kiss the newly exposed skin
just above her bra.  She let out a sharp cry as the tip of his tongue moved
across the boundary that marked where the darker-pink skin of her aureole
began.  The tiny bumps offered more resistance than the smooth skin of her
breast, and the infinitesimal friction sent sparks through her entire body.
She couldn't stand it.  If he were to rip the rest of her clothing off
right now she wouldn't stop him.  She wanted to beg him to do it now, to
suck her whole breast into his mouth, to slip his fingers into her pussy.
But she couldn't, she just couldn't.  He kept licking along the edge of her
bra.  He wormed the tip of his tongue under it until he found where her
nipple began to rise, the skin there pulled tight, painfully hard and
blindingly sensitive.  He tickled and nuzzled and worried the tiny bit of
flesh until she ground her pussy against his thigh and let out a sharp
moan.

   Peter pulled back, startled at the violence of her reaction.  Susan let
go of him and lay back, her eyes closed, her barely-covered breasts slick
with perspiration.  She wanted his mouth back on her skin; she wanted him
to kiss her everywhere, on every inch of her exposed flesh.  And tonight,
at least, he seemed so perfectly attuned to her unspoken desires that he
did exactly that.  His nose tickled along the gentle curve of her stomach,
his tongue flicked into her belly button.  He stroked along the insides of
her arms and blew gently on her inner thighs, setting all of her alight,
leaving her buoyant and breathless. 

   She wasn't sure how much time passed.  His lips and his tongue never
seemed to tire of her.  As he worked his way closer to her center, Susan
realized that her panties had been pulled awry and the narrow strip of
fabric between her legs had sunk into her pussy, leaving her swollen outer
lips exposed.  The same thing had happened in his dorm room.  But this time
she didn't have the strength to fight it.  She just sighed and let her legs
move a little further apart.  She felt Peter's breath at the junction of
her thighs and then the gentle rasp of his tongue, exploring the bare,
puffy flesh, flushed pink now and fragrant with her juices.  He licked her
everywhere, sucking the folds between his lips, teasing along the edge of
the bunched fabric that just barely blocked his access to her deepest
recesses.

   Her arousal deepened like a cat's purring, like the electric hum of the
equipment in the room, steady and powerful, saturating every part of her.
She hardly noticed when Peter moved back on top of her and their limbs
entwined.  He had so many different textures, his neck so soft, the muscles
in his chest so dense, and his cock ...  it was like silk, like horn, like
iron, burning hot and sticky-wet at the tip.  Then their lips met and that
felt more like sex than anything else they'd done so far.  All the
touching, the licking, that was just ...  playing, fooling around,
something friends might do together if they'd had too much to drink or just
felt closer than usual.  She'd kept her clothes on, sort of.  But their
lips were naked, completely naked.  The way he was kissing her  -" she
couldn't just tell herself that it was innocent.  She couldn't talk to Kate
about it.  She had to stop.

   She pulled away, out from under him, until they were lying side by side.
Peter didn't say anything.  He knew as well as she did that they were about
to cross a line, the real line.  He'd been a gentleman, keeping his hands
out from her underneath her clothes, mostly, anyway.  And she hadn't
touched him ...  not on his private places.  That was how it needed to
stay. 

   She thought about it for a moment then shifted around on the couch,
crawling down until her face was just opposite his cock.  She let her hair
brush against the shaft, let the head glide along the smooth skin of her
cheek and her neck.

   "Susan," he whispered.  "Don't."

   "Shh," she said.  "It's all right."

   Her hand stroked his inner thigh, stopping just as she could touch the
pubic hair around his balls.  Peter's cock jumped, brushing against her
face, almost as if it was seeking her lips.  She inhaled his sharp musk and
stared at the pulsating vein that ran along the underside, following it up
to the helmet-shaped head, blushing crimson now.  She brushed it with her
forehead, with her nose.  The skin seemed so smooth and elastic, so supple.
She breathed gently on it, enjoying Peter's reaction.  The feeling was
starting again, the pressure building in her loins.  She didn't have the
patience he did.  She needed more of him now.

   She sat up and pushed on Peter's shoulder until he rolled onto his back.
She admired his recumbent form for a moment, the broad chest and flat
stomach.  Then she swung one leg over him until she was sitting across his
thighs, his cock nestled against the front of her panties.  She readjusted
them to give him a smoother surface, then began shifting forward and back,
rubbing his shaft through the furrow between her pussy lips.  She loved the
warmth of his skin against the backs of her thighs and her butt, the feel
of him sliding against her.  Peter reached up and cupped her breasts with
both hands, pushing her stiff nipples hard into her chest.



   She moved her hips faster and changed the angle a little so that his
cock head bumped against her clit at the end of each stroke.  Everything
down there was so wet that they just slid together frictionlessly, and she
made small sighs every time he stroked her nipples or pushed the straining
fabric of her panties a little deeper into her pussy.  Suddenly Peter
twisted under her with a sharp groan and grabbed her bottom, slipping his
fingers down under her waistband, almost pushing her panties off
altogether.

   "Watch out," he croaked just as the first spurt erupted, flying up and
forward to land on his chest.  She pulled back to get out of the way, but
it didn't help.  Cum went everywhere, onto her, onto him, onto the couch.
Before she could think better of it, she grabbed his cock with one hand,
covering the head to catch the last few bursts in her hand.  As he calmed
and his hips sank back into the couch, Susan kept holding his shaft,
feeling the blood leaving it, feeling his pulse slow and diminish,
entranced by his cock's transformation back into ordinary flesh.  She let
it settle back onto his belly, still partially erect, shiny with their
fluids.  And something about it made her feel that she'd left things
unfinished somehow.  Not just because she hadn't cum herself.  That was all
right; it wasn't what their relationship was about.  And she'd insisted on
staying dressed, sort of.  But ...

   She leaned over and licked along the shaft, just cleaning his cock off a
little.  Peter groaned and arched his hips up towards her.  She let the
head linger between her lips for a moment.  Then she sat up, satisfied. 
That wasn't really sexual, she thought.  It was affectionate, like
straightening his collar or a hug at the end of the evening before going
home.

   "It's really late," she said.  "I'm hoping there's a bathroom we can
use?"

   Peter nodded and indicated another door nearby.

   She kissed him lightly.  "Me first, okay?"

   * * *

   Walking quickly across campus, Susan stopped suddenly enough to cause a
distracted-looking Asian student to bump into her.  He brushed his hair out
of his eyes and blinked at her.

   "Sorry," Susan said.  The student nodded vaguely and kept walking.

   Kate was sitting on a bench under a tree.  She wore a thin cotton blouse
and jeans and she had her head down.  A cold wind sliced across the quad,
stirring up leaves.  She must be freezing, Susan thought.  But Kate sat
inertly, her arms at her sides.  The fact that she was by herself was odd
enough.  But the absence of her usual vivacious energy was a sure sign that
something was wrong.  Susan was late for a class, but she walked over and
sat down next to her roommate.

   Kate looked up blankly.  Her eyes were red-rimmed; mascara dripped. 
"Oh, hi Susan."

   "Hey, Kate.  What's the matter?"

   "Nothing."

   Susan felt a hollow space in her stomach, a sudden ominous premonition.
"Come on," she said.  "Talk to me."

   Kate sat still for so long Susan wasn't sure she'd heard.

   "I think Peter is seeing someone else," she said, finally.

   Kate was quiet again.  Susan didn't push it.

   "He hasn't called.  He was out somewhere on Tuesday night.  He told me
he was going to be studying in the library.  But he wasn't.  I went there
and looked for him."

   On impulse, Susan put her arm around Kate and pulled her close.  Kate
stiffened for a moment, then buried her face in Susan's shoulder.  She
started to sob softly.

   "Hey," Susan said.  "I'm sure it's okay.  Didn't you tell me that he had
some big project due this week?  He's probably just really busy."

   "But why ..."

   "Shh.  Guys can be thoughtless like that.  They get distracted easily.
You know he'd never leave you.  Where would he find someone else as
beautiful as you?"

   Susan's voice had taken on a sing-song quality, and she rocked Kate
gently against her shoulder.  I'm turning into her mom, Susan thought.  She
sighed.  I've got enough problems of my own.  I'm not signing up for that
gig.  She looked down at Kate.  A small suspicion about her popular, sexy
roommate began to grow inside her head.  Maybe Kate was always ditching
guys so quickly because she couldn't handle it if one of them ditched her
first.

   "How about if I talk to him?" Susan suggested.  "I'd be casual about it.
Catch him at our physics class and mention that I haven't seen him around 
-" something like that."

   Kate looked up at her, eyes big and round and redder than ever.  "Could
you?  That would be great."

   Susan squeezed her shoulder and gave her a sisterly kiss on the
forehead. "I've got to go, okay?  I've got a class."

   Kate nodded, smiling bravely.  She seemed very child-like and helpless.
"Okay."

   Susan smiled back.  "I'll see you tonight." She got up and nearly ran
across the quad, needing to get as far away as she could before Kate
thought to ask Susan where she had been on Tuesday night.

   * * *

   "You lied to her," Susan said.

   Peter looked miserable.  He took a gulp of his coffee and winced: too
hot.  There were sitting across a small table from each other in a cafÃ(C)
off-campus.

   "Yeah," he admitted.  "She called right before I left to meet you.  I
didn't know what to do.  I told her I'd be in the library."

   Susan sighed.  "This isn't going to work, is it?"

   Peter looked up quickly.  He seemed stunned.  "What do you mean?"

   "I can't let you hurt her.  Us, I mean.  I can't let us hurt her." She
felt around clumsily for the right words, feeling every bit as wretched as
Peter.  "I thought you and I could just ...  be together, a little bit, you
know, like we were the other night.  But we can't."

   He tensed for a moment and leaned closer to her.  Then he slumped back
into his chair.  "You're right.  I was being really thoughtless.  Selfish,
I guess."

   "Try cowardly." It came out a bit more forcefully than she'd intended.
"Sorry, I didn't mean ..."

   "No, you're right." Peter looked like he wanted to take her hand, then
thought better of it.  "I was hurting both of you.  I wasn't thinking.  I
was ...  just stupid.  Stupid and selfish.  Sorry, I'm repeating myself."

   His sincerity nearly destroyed her resolve.

   "So what do we do?" he asked.

   Susan was ready for that one.  "Nothing," she said.  "What happens
between you and Kate is your business.  But you and I ...  I was right the
first time about our seeing each other.  We just can't."

   He sat very still for a moment.  Then he nodded and got up, not really
looking at her.  "Okay.  I should go.  I'll see you around."

   He hesitated for a second, then leaned over and kissed her on the cheek
before walking off.

   She stayed where she was, staring into her cooling coffee and wondering
how she could feel so proud of herself and so miserable at exactly the same
time.

   * * *

   Cross-country practice had ended, and the coach had long since sent
everyone back to the locker room.  But Susan had built up an angry energy
after her conversation with Peter that the tough ten-mile workout hadn't
burned out of her.  So she kept running, up the big hill behind campus she
usually hated doing, and onto the potholed streets of the sleepy suburban
neighborhood on the other side.  She needed to wear herself out, to clear
all the tangled-up stuff out of her head.

   Twenty minutes later she was still so self-absorbed that she didn't
notice the sky darkening until big, cold raindrops began stinging her
face. Oh, hell, she thought.  I'm probably three or four miles from the
dorm.  But there was really no help for it.  She didn't have her cell phone
with her, and there wasn't anybody around she knew.  She was just going to
get wet.

   She picked up her pace, dispirited, trying to stay under trees where she
could.  Before long, they started to drip too.  She splashed through a
puddle she hadn't seen and swore to herself.  Now her shoes were wet.  She
put her head down, gritted her teeth and kept going.

   Suddenly she heard a shout.

   "Come on, get in."

   She looked over towards the voice.  There was a blue BMW rolling along
next to her.  She looked away, annoyed.  Sure, like she was really going to
get into some strange guy's car.

   "Susan, just get in.  You're going to catch pneumonia."

   She looked back at the car, startled.  How had he known her name?  She
bent down a bit until she could see the driver: Ken. 

   She slowed to a stop.  He stopped too and leaned over to push the
passenger door open.

   "I'll get you car all wet," Susan said.

   "Okay, never mind then.  I'll just send flowers."

   She looked completely flustered.

   "Susan, don't be an idiot.  Get in."

   It was raining steadily now.  Water dripped down her hair and into her
eyes.  She sighed and brushed futilely at the seat of her damp sweatpants
before finally crawling into the car.  The interior was marvelously warm
and dry.

   "How did you know I was here?" she asked.  "I didn't know I was going
to be here."

   Ken shrugged.  "I called your room and your roommate answered.  Kate is
it?  She has quite the sexy voice, by the way.  Anyway, she told me that
you'd probably be at practice.  So I drove over to the gym and asked
around. One of your teammates said that she'd seen you heading in this
direction, looking 'kinda fierce' in her words.  And here I am." He bowed
modestly.  "Actually, the hard part was figuring out who you were  -" you
never told me your last name.  I spent the last few days asking everyone
who'd been to the party if they knew you."

   Susan put her hand to her mouth.  "I'm sorry.  I wasn't thinking very
clearly by the end of the evening." She looked down at herself.  "I'm
afraid you're not seeing me at my best right now either."

   He laughed, as if she hadn't actually meant it.  "No worries.  You
really look quite fetching with your hair like that.  So, can I offer you a
cup of coffee?"

   Susan shook her head, trying to clear it.  She was still adjusting to
not being rained on, and it all felt a little surreal.  Suddenly guys were
going to a lot of trouble on her account.  Peter with the telescope, Ken
tracking her down in the rain.  She didn't quite get it.

   "Thanks," she said, "but what I really need right now is a shower and
some dry clothes."

   "No problem.  I'll take you to my place.  You can shower while I throw
your stuff in the wash."

   That put her on her guard.  "No, it's okay.  Could you just drop me off
at my dorm?  I really appreciate your picking me up though."

   "Hey, I've got a terrific espresso machine.  It's from Italy; it has an
eagle on top."

   Of course he has an espresso machine from Italy, Susan thought
uncharitably.  A glass of wine, a cappuccino.  Does he really think I'm
that easy?  She looked over at him, searching for the inevitable hidden
agenda.  But it wasn't there.  His face was completely open, friendly. 
Some of his brown hair fell endearingly across his forehead.  This was the
version of Ken she liked.  No sign of Mr.  Smooth.  And it really had been
awfully nice of him to pick her up.  She wasn't sure why she was giving him
such a hard time.

   "Okay," she said, brushing rain out of her eyelashes.  "Espresso from a
machine with an eagle on top sounds nice."

   * * *

   "There's a robe and a hair drier in there," Ken said.  "Help yourself."

   He kind of hung around, but Susan shooed him out of the bathroom.  She
wasn't quite ready to undress in front of him, the night on the stairs
notwithstanding.  She stripped, opened the door a crack, and handed the
damp bundle of her clothes to Ken, who was still standing in the hall,
probably hoping that she'd change her mind.

   Susan had to admit that the shower felt wonderful.  It had some sort of
European sprayer thingie that detached.  She took it out of its holder and
held it close to her chest.  The spray stung her nipples, and a little
shiver ran through her body.  She aimed the water lower until it tickled
her belly button.  Mmm.  So that's what these things are for, she thought.
The more she learned about the adult world, the more she realized that it
was all about sex.  She spread her legs a little and tilted the sprayer
until the water splashed against her pussy and beaded up on her pubic hair.
She'd never felt anything like it.  Her skin tingled and she held it a bit
closer.  It didn't feel like someone was touching her exactly.  It was more
like a million tiny fingertips brushing against her skin, half-tickling,
half-teasing.  I should stop now, she thought dully.  Ken will wonder what
I'm doing in here.  Well, just another minute, until the wet chill is gone.
She moved the warm spray in slow circles, until every part of her sparkled
and all her senses felt heightened, ready.  The minute she'd given herself
passed.

   She turned the water off, regretfully.  Ken had left her a towel, very
fluffy, and an equally luxurious robe.  She dried off and enjoyed the
sensation of the robe sliding on over her bare, flushed skin.  She found
the hair drier and organized her chestnut hair into its usual soft flip. 
It looks particularly stylish this afternoon, she thought.  She smiled at
herself and stepped out into the hallway.  For the first time in days, she
realized, she wasn't thinking about Peter.

   Ken wasn't in evidence, but she heard activity downstairs in the
kitchen. She followed the clatter of cups and saucers and the hiss of steam
and found him turning knobs and adjusting nozzles on a gleaming device that
did indeed sport a copper eagle on the top.  He was wearing jeans, a ribbed
t-shirt and loafers  -" regular-guy clothes.  She'd only seen him in his
Ken-doll outfit at the party, with his hair slicked back.  She liked this
better.  Still, she felt a little vulnerable in her bare feet and wearing
just a robe while he was fully dressed.  The thought evaporated when he
looked up and smiled at her, relaxed and assured, as always.

   "Just another minute," he said.  He patted the eagle fondly.  "I love
this thing.  The milk foam is like velvet.  He poured a small chrome
pitcher of coffee into an elegant cup and mixed in some steamed milk. 
"Sugar?"

   "Just a little."

   He handed her the cup and their fingers touched for a moment.  She took
a sip.  The smoothness of the espresso-streaked foam lingered on her
tongue. Sublime.

   "Shall we take these into the living room?" he asked.  "Your clothes are
in the washer.  They'll be a while yet."

   She nodded and followed him into the same high-ceilinged room where
they'd first met.  It made her feel microscopic.

   "Do you live here by yourself?" she asked.

   "At the moment.  I was sharing the place with a couple of friends, but
one's in Botswana at the moment, collecting something  -" snails, I think.
The other fellow moved in with his girlfriend over the summer.  I keep
thinking that it won't last, so I've kept his room for him." Ken stopped
and looked around a little wistfully.  "It is pretty gloomy, isn't it?"

   They looked at each other, and then they both laughed.  Ken was
sheepish. "My parents' idea.  I hate it, actually."

   "Well, it's a good party house.  Better than mine, that's for sure.  I
always got so embarrassed when my friends visited my folks' place.  The
scrimshaw collection, you know?" Susan shuddered.

   She looked around the room.  Two armchairs and a couch formed a grouping
around a coffee table.  Susan sat down in one the chairs.  It was big and
plush, but there was no way it was going to accommodate two people.  Ken
settled into the couch and sipped his coffee with no evident sign of
disappointment.  Susan carefully rearranged the bottom of the robe over her
legs feeling somewhat relieved.

   "So do you get to keep the place when you graduate?" Susan asked.

   "God no.  Actually, I don't get to keep anything except the shirt on my
back.  My dad decided that I should learn to make it on my own." He waved
his arms to indicate the house and all its contents.  "Once I leave
college, poof, it's all gone.  So if you're in the market for a rich
husband ..."

   He actually sounded apologetic.  Susan wondered what sort of girls he
normally invited over.

   "The thought never entered my mind," she said firmly.  "I only want you
for your espresso."

   Ken smiled warmly.  His eyes really sparkled when he did that, she
noticed.

   "So you probably aren't in a big hurry to graduate."

   He leaned forward.  Mr.  Smooth was nowhere in sight now, no pretenses,
no polished manners.  "I have mixed feelings about that," he said slowly.
"It isn't easy  -" having successful parents, parents who have such high
expectations."

   Susan shook her head.  "Forget them." She waved at the living room and
its vaulted ceiling and track lights so far up that she could barely see
them.  "You don't even want this.  How long have you been hiding out here
anyway?"

   He looked a little embarrassed.  "Five years."

   The same as Peter, she thought, but for different reasons.

   "It's not so bad out there, you know.  You should give it a try."

   She'd said it lightly, but Ken was looking at her with a dead serious
intensity.  This conversation really mattered to him.

   "Are there people like you out there?" he asked.

   She nodded slowly, meeting his gaze.  "Yes."

   He didn't say anything.  He just looked back at her with his soft brown
eyes, flecked with green.

   Susan put her coffee cup down and unfastened the belt on her robe.  The
hem slid across her thighs until the two sides hung down on either side. 
The upper part of the robe pulled open and scratched across her very stiff
nipples.  She could see Ken's breathing deepen and felt his eyes travel
down her body from the flushed skin at the top of her chest over the swells
of her breasts, their inner curves fully exposed, small pink crescents of
her aureoles peeking out tantalizingly from the edges of the robe, down to
her smooth stomach and the dark circle of her belly button, and finally to
the patch of chestnut pubic hair.  Her thighs were together, preventing
more intimate scrutiny, and Ken looked up again, his eyes more intense than
ever.

   "Open your legs," he said.

   Susan's heart raced.  Her limbs felt numb, unresponsive.  She tried to
drag her eyes away from his, to look down, or away or anywhere. 

   Ken waited, not speaking.

   Her legs began to shake.  She stared at them, willing herself to calm
down.  But the harder she tried, the less control she seemed to have.  Her
knees moved apart.  Her pussy lips spread, puffy and glistening, revealing
soft pink folds within.  She bit her lower lip and looked up.  As she did,
the edges of her robe, pulled further apart by her spread thighs, strained
for a moment against her nipples then fell away, leaving her breasts
completely bare.  The flush on her chest spread downward into the rounded
valley between.

   Ken leaned forward.  "Touch yourself," he whispered.

   Her eyes widened.  "Ken!"

   "It's all right," he said.  "There's nothing to be ashamed of.  You look
beautiful."

   His voice had the power she remembered from the first night she'd met
him, calm and controlled, irresistible.  She felt as if she were stepping
into darkness, into a place where she didn't know her way.  She hesitated
for a moment, and then moved her hand down between her legs, the heat
radiating from her pussy seeming to draw it closer.  She slid one finger
tentatively across her outer lips, smearing moisture, then spiraled it
inward until the tip was lightly circling her clit.

   This is how it had started, Susan thought, that night in her dorm room:
moving her fingers awkwardly under her panties while Peter and Kate went at
it on the next bed.  But she'd been the audience then, hidden and
anonymous; now she was center stage.  That made a difference. 

   "I want you to undress too," she said.

   Ken smiled slightly and nodded.  He pulled his shirt over his head,
unzipped his jeans and pushed them down along with his shorts.  He kicked
off his loafers then bent forward until he had worked his pants off
completely.  When he sat back up he was naked.

   Susan rubbed harder on her clit and she trembled deliciously.  She could
see Ken's tongue move nervously between his lips.  She looked at his body,
taking her time, making a long, leisurely appraisal.  She'd never felt
comfortable staring at a man this way before.  But it seemed all right
here; it was what they were doing together  -" instead of watching TV or
studying or something more normal.  His face was handsome in a classical
sort of way, a straight nose and high cheekbones.  But there was a little
sadness around his eyes.  She liked that.  She wanted to know why.  And he
looked ...  sculpted, the planes and angles of his body accentuated by the
tension in his posture.  He wasn't as muscular as Peter, but toned and
smooth-limbed, almost hairless on his chest, a fine down of light brown
hair on his legs and around ...  around his cock.  Once her eyes had
strayed down to it, she couldn't look away.  She'd seen it before, of
course, even tasted it.  But it was different now, more dangerous somehow.
He was thick, not as long as Peter, round at the end (did that mean he was
uncircumcised?) Like a blunt object in a mystery novel.  Susan shivered
just looking at it.  She imagined it going inside her ...  no, she just
couldn't.  She took a deep breath.  It was a relief, actually, to make her
mind up about that now, to know where things were going  -" or (she
couldn't help giggling) not going in this case.

   She slid one finger inside her pussy, then a second one.  Ken inhaled
audibly.  She did it again, and Ken's hand moved down to his cock.  It was
even harder now, and it seemed to have grown in girth rather than length.
She settled into a rhythm, stroking in and out of herself.  It wasn't what
she normally did, but she could tell that it aroused Ken.  She stared
mercilessly into his eyes, daring him to look away.  The friction of her
fingers kept her at a seething pitch of excitement.  She couldn't stop now
if she wanted to.  The motion of her hand over her mound, of her fingers
moving in and out was like breathing, like an engine's smooth purring idle.
Her lips parted slightly.  The muscles in Ken's neck pulled taut.

   The room became dream-like, its colors muted, everything except Ken's
body blurry and indistinct.  Susan stood up, almost floating .  Ken's
movements slowed and then seemed to stop completely, his hand stalled
half-way up the shaft of his cock, the tip of his tongue paused between his
lips.  His eyes followed her hips as she walked towards him, the robe's
edges alternately covering and exposing her pussy.  She stopped directly in
front of him and put one knee down on either side of his thighs, straddling
him.  She leaned forward until her chest pressed against his and the head
of his cock nestled in her pubic hair.  Then their lips came together. 
They hadn't ever kissed, really kissed, she realized.  His cool detachment
dissolved as his arms went around her and their tongues explored each
other. 

   He reached inside her robe, one hand on her back, the other cupping her
bottom.  The contact there sent her over the edge.  She'd never felt so
aroused, so grateful for a man's touch.  The hard, cold run, the steaming
shower, the rich crema of the espresso, the thick robe, Ken's lips, his
hands, his skin, his thick, hard cock, her nipples burning into his chest 
-" there were too many sensations coming one on top of the other.  She just
abandoned herself to them; she couldn't do anything else.  She reached for
his cock and rubbed a sticky bead of pre-cum across the tip with her thumb.
Ken groaned and reached between her legs and ran his fingers through her
dripping folds.  He smeared her moisture everywhere, on her thighs, her
stomach, and finally on her outer lips so that his fingers could rub them
and caress them and slide effortlessly between them until he was deep
insider her.  Susan threw back her head and bucked her hips against his
hand.  She felt a molten pressure building at her center.  Ken moved his
fingers  -" two of them?  three?   -" in and out.  His thumb rubbed across
the top of her clit.  It was swollen, throbbing with her heartbeat,
unbearably sensitive. 

   She broke the kiss, wanting to tell him to stop for a moment, to give
her a chance to catch her breath; but he leaned forward and sucked one
nipple into his mouth, and suddenly all she could do was whimper.  The
pressure built, rising into an irresistible wave that swelled and paused
agonizingly at its crest and finally broke and swept through her, turning
her body turn rigid and driving her hips down onto his fingers.  She
inhaled hard, but still couldn't get enough air.  She began to feel faint;
the room wheeled around her.  Ken's free hand stroked her hair and the side
of her face.  He kissed her shoulder and her neck and the spot between her
breasts until her shivering calmed and she could breathe again.

   She was still holding his cock, she realized.  She let go of it,
stroking the shaft gently.  Ken kept running his hands along her
over-heated body.  He was hard to figure out, she thought as she nestled
her head on his shoulder.  He could be smooth and manipulative sometimes; a
rake, really.  Then, at other times, he could be sweet and understanding.
Just like Peter was awkward and geeky one minute, then forceful and
confident the next.  It was like having four different lovers.  Too many to
keep straight.  She felt constantly off-balance.

   Literally in this case.  Too late to react, she realized that Ken was
lowering her off of his lap and onto the couch.  He laid her on her side
and snuggled in next to her, until they were both stretched out,
face-to-face.  He rearranged the robe like a blanket so that it covered
both of them.  He kissed her again, more gently this time; and she suddenly
felt very close to him, to this not-really-rich guy who lived by himself in
a big, empty house.  She moved closer still, until her breasts pushed
against his chest.  His skin felt so warm and smooth and yielding.  She
wanted to feel more of it; she wanted all of his body against hers.  She
wrapped one leg behind his, pulling him against her, until their hips met.
The tip of his cock nudged against the top of her pussy, brushing the hood
and dragging across her swollen clit.  She gasped softly and dug her
fingers into his arm.  She was still over-sensitive there after cumming so
hard a minute earlier, and she shifted her body up a little to relieve the
pressure.  Now the head of his cock was lower, no longer directly against
her clit, nestling instead between her well-lubricated folds.  That felt
better, more comfortable.  She could lie this way with him forever.

   He pulled back and looked at her, surprised.  He put one hand around her
butt and tilted his hips slightly, lodging the tip of his cock just inside
her.  Susan's eyes went wide. No! That wasn't what she had meant.  She'd
just wanted to ...

   Ken's breathing was harsh now.  She could feel his heart beating rapidly
in his chest, the blood throbbing in the tip of his cock.  He raked her
bottom with his nails.  He found her sensitive spot again, and the contact
sent jolt after jolt of electricity through her body.  His cock head pushed
her apart, straining the walls of her pussy.  Her breath caught in her
throat; she couldn't speak, couldn't react, couldn't move.

   And then he pulled out of her. 

   Susan exhaled slowly, relaxing a little.  She brushed his hair out of
his eyes and kissed him on the cheek.  She felt strangely disappointed, but
relieved that he understood that he wouldn't be able to ...

   But he didn't seem to understand at all. 

   He leaned forward, pushing into her again.  And she was so wet and
slippery that the head just ...  just slid all the way in.  Susan made a
high-pitched cry, and they stared at each other, their faces an inch apart.
Her hands shook so badly she had to hold on to Ken to keep them still.  He
shifted his hips forward again, and now she had to bury her head in his
shoulder to stifle her cries.  Her pussy lips folded inward, and she dug
her fingers into Ken's flesh so hard they turned white.  She felt her belly
fluttering, her legs trembling.

   He paused for a moment.  She held her breath; she knew what was coming
this time.  But she was wrong again.  He leaned back until he could look at
her.  Tears glistened on her cheeks.

   "Hey, it's okay," he said.  "Do you want me to stop?"

   She looked deep into his soft, sad eyes.  She still couldn't speak.  So
she just shook her head.

   Ken didn't move right away.  Susan tucked her head back on his shoulder.
She could feel his muscles tense, then his hips tilt forward.  She bit her
lip, but her body had learned about him, and she opened up, further then
she'd ever imagined she could, surrounding him, drawing him deeper, until
she felt his pubic hair scratch against hers and his balls slap the
junction of her thighs.

   They stayed like that, holding each other, their bodies melting together
in a thousand new places.  Then he began to move slowly, just his hips
working and his cock sliding smoothly in and out, the slightly thicker ring
around the base of the head forcing her apart just a little further with
each stroke.  When their loins met, a wave of sensation swept over her,
each one merging with the one before until she couldn't absorb them all and
her body just responded automatically to grinding of his hips and the
pressure of his fingers on her flesh.  The robe that was covering them had
become unbearably hot.  She struggled to pull it off.  Ken stopped for a
moment, confused.  The he sat up next to her, sweat glistening on his skin,
his hair stuck together and falling in front of his eyes.  He threw the
robe onto the floor then roughly turned her shoulders until she lay on her
back.  He pulled her legs apart and spent a minute staring at her swollen
pussy and the moisture coating her thighs and her matted pubic hair.

   She knew she must look frightened and helpless.  But her body betrayed
her need; her hips tilted upwards, wanting to be closer, wanting him back
inside.  Ken ran a finger down between her breasts, over her stomach, slick
with perspiration now, dipping into her belly button, bringing a sigh from
deep in her chest.  She raised her head until she could see down between
their bodies.  Ken's cock hung there, huge and potent, almost purple with
blood.  While she watched, he positioned it at her entrance.

   Her eyes squeezed shut.  "Ken, please ..." she whispered.

   She felt his weight come down on her, smoothly, irresistibly.  She made
a soft 'oh' sound as he sank all the way in and their hips met again.  She
hadn't realized that she could take all of him like that, she had no idea.
It felt ...  it feltperfect.  The way they fit together, her thighs spread
wide, her pussy stretched so tight, their hips meeting again and again ...

   Suddenly her body froze as another orgasm welled up from her center, the
exquisite pressure swelling and bursting open and flowing through her.  She
wailed and held him tight, her breasts squashing against his chest, her
nipples like points of flame.  Her hips bucked and twisted and Ken jammed
his cock as deeply into her as it would go and there was a molten rush
inside her and another and another as his body spasmed and lifted and then
went gradually limp.

   Time passed.  Susan's breathing returned gradually to normal.  Her grip
on Ken's back and shoulders relaxed.  He lifted his body up onto his elbows
and kissed her, their tongues playing together until her pulse began to
quicken again.  But he took a deep breath and stopped.  He pulled his
now-soft cock out of her and sat up on the couch.  She realized how she
must look to him.  Naked, hair in disarray, one foot on the floor, her
other knee raised, and their mingled fluids dripping from her pussy.

   She closed her eyes and raised her arms, stretching luxuriously, and a
slow smile spread across her face.  "I'm going to need another shower," she
said.

   He nodded.  "Yeah, me too.  Can I take you out to dinner after that?"

   "Would you please?  I am so hungry." She sat up and continued her
stretch, making her breasts ride up a little higher on her chest.  "But
just pizza or something like that.  All I've got to wear is my running
stuff."

   "Oh, right.  It's probably dry by now.  I'll go check."

   But he didn't move. 

   "What is it?" she asked.

   "I can't stop looking at you." There was an apologetic note in his
voice, and a trace of that sadness he had.

   Susan smiled.  "That's all right.  I like it when you look at me.  It's
sweet."

   He kissed her, which took a while, and finally stood up.  Susan admired
his lean butt as it moved away from her.  She retrieved the tangled robe
from the floor and put it back on.  I've got a boyfriend, she thought to
herself.  I think I do, anyway.  He isn't the easiest guy to get to know.
But I'm going to try.

   She went upstairs and found the bathroom.  She stepped inside,
hesitated, then closed the door behind her.  It was strange, but she still
wasn't comfortable with the idea of showering with him.  It seemed so
intimate, even more than what they'd just been doing.  She wanted to know
him a little better first.

   She adjusted the shower and stepped in.  She started to soap herself,
enjoying the tingle of the spray and the pressure of her fingers.  It felt
so good she started to worry. How much of this do I need? Am I ever going
to get back to the way I was?

   Then a sudden intuition made her look over towards the bathroom door. 
It was open a crack; more than a crack, actually.  She looked away, trying
to seem casual.  She was tired and hungry; she really needed to get cleaned
up and dressed and get something to eat.  But ...  she could wait a few
more minutes.  She leaned her head back, letting the water run through her
hair and down her back, feeling it flow over her butt and the backs of her
thighs.  And she turned slowly under the warm spray, turning all the way
around, making sure that he could see all of her.



   College Girls Ch.  03

   Kate wanted to ride shotgun, which meant that Susan would be sitting
next to either Peter or the other guy, Luke, for the next few hours. 
Neither seemed like a good choice.  Luke was one of Kate's ex-boyfriends 
-" Susan remembered him vaguely from earlier in the year.  He was a typical
Kate cast-off: linebacker-sized and annoyingly crude.  It occurred to Susan
that having him along would be awkward for both Luke and Kate, but they
didn't seem to mind. 

   They were picking up Luke's new girlfriend at her parents' house, and
then there'd be six of them squeezed into Ken's SUV, along with luggage,
skis, snowboards, cases of beer, what seemed like half of Ken's wine
cellar, and piles of parkas, gloves, wool hats.

   She ended up next to Luke, which had seemed like the safer choice at
first.  But then he gradually oozed into her personal space, starting with
his knee bumping hers, then his thigh, then his hip.  An hour into the
trip, Susan found herself getting squeezed uncomfortably against the door.
Finally Luke turned half-around so that he could talk to Peter in the back
seat, which jammed his butt practically onto Susan's lap.  She tapped him
on the shoulder.

   Luke turned back and grinned.  His teeth seemed unnaturally large. 
"What's up, honey?"

   "It's Susan, and could you move over a bit?  I'm getting kind of
squashed."

   The grin got bigger somehow.  "Why don't you just snuggle up?  Then
there'll be plenty of room."

   Now she was really steamed.  She wondered if Ken could hear their
conversation.  She could really use him to come to her rescue.  But he was
talking to Kate, listening really, as she chattered non-stop.  Susan was on
her own.

   She stared hard at him.  "Could you just move over, please?"

   That earned her a cool, appraising look from Luke.  He shrugged and slid
a couple of inches away from her and turned back to resume his conversation
with Peter.

   Susan closed her eyes, willing herself to relax.  This ski trip was
going to be a disaster.  She could sense it.  Just being around Peter was
uncomfortable enough  -" they'd reached the point where they averted their
eyes every time they happened to glance at each other.  Fortunately, Kate
was oblivious to the tension between them.  And it was Ken's party, so she
could hardly refuse to come.

   After far too long they arrived at the new girlfriend's house and there
was more shuffling of bodies and luggage and things were being strapped to
the roof.  The new girl  -" Fina?  Fawn?  Fiona?   -" seemed a little on
the mousey side, although certainly attractive enough, slim with long, dark
hair and full lips and a shy smile.  She seemed to be built on a different
scale than Luke.  Susan wondered how they  -- well, never mind. 

   When the music stopped, Susan was sitting in the back of the SUV along
with Peter and several duffel bags.  So there was no help for it.  Unless
Susan pretended to fall asleep or something, they were going to have to
talk to each other. 

   The SUV bumped down the driveway, and Mr.  and Mrs.  Fawn (it was Fawn,
apparently) waved goodbye.  Maps were consulted and everybody settled in
for the rest of the drive.

   "How have you been?" Peter asked her.

   "Fine, thanks."

   "It was really nice of Ken to set this up."

   She nodded again.  "I guess the cabin belongs to his family."

   "Have you met them?" Peter asked.  He tried to make the question sound
casual, but it wasn't.

   "No, not yet." She didn't elaborate.

   Fawn and Luke, sitting in the middle seat, seemed to be talking to each
other as well.  Thank god for that, Susan thought.

   "Things are going well with Kate?" she asked.

   Peter nodded.  "She's very  -- she's hard to resist, you know, when she
wants  --"

   "You don't have to apologize." That had come out a little sharply.

   Peter looked chastened.  He shifted uncomfortably on his seat.  Their
legs touched, and he pulled away, abashed.

   Susan smiled and touched him on the shoulder.  "It's all right," she
said.

   * * *

   The "cabin" was actually a unit in a spiffy complex of wood-shingled
town-houses.  Ken opened the place up, turned on the heat, and showed
everyone around.  It was every bit as posh as Susan had anticipated.  There
was a private hot tub in back and a view across the bottom of a ski slope
to a jagged ridge of mountains in the distance.

   Susan started to haul luggage inside and found herself at the top of the
stairs lugging a duffel and a backpack.  As she looked up and down the
hallway, trying to remember which doorway was hers, Luke appeared beside
her with his usual smug grin.

   "Hey, it doesn't really matter," he said, noting her confusion.  "Throw
your stuff anywhere.  We'll probably end up swapping anyway."

   Susan stopped cold.  "What are you talking about?"

   His grin just got wider and he walked past her down the hall.

   * * *

   After everyone had gotten settled they met downstairs and had some
take-out Chinese.  Ken had wanted to go out to an Italian restaurant he
knew in town, but everyone else had had enough driving for one day.  Ken
produced a couple of bottles of Pinot Gris (not exactly right with Kung Pao
chicken, Susan decided, but still awfully nice).  Then they moved into the
living room with its beamed ceiling and thick carpet and abstract
expressionist lithographs.  Ken and Peter swapped stories about their
travels to exotic destinations until Luke, feeling left out, perhaps, or
just wanting to up the ante a bit said: 

   "Hot tub?"

   Susan stiffened.  It hadn't occurred to her to bring a swimsuit.  She
was about to say as much, then thought better of it.  Did one wear
swimsuits in situations like this?  Probably not.

   Kate perked up immediately.  "Sure," she said, flashing her best
cheerleader smile.

   Ken shrugged.  "Why not.  I'll go out and check the temperature.  Should
be ready in about twenty minutes."

   Everyone else nodded and headed upstairs to do whatever getting ready to
go into a hot tub involved.

   Susan followed Ken out onto the deck and watched as he pushed buttons
and turned knobs and checked thermometers.  "Um, are you going in naked?"
she asked.

   "Yeah, I guess." He turned to look at her.  Her nervousness must have
been fairly obvious.  "Does that bother you?"

   "A little."

   Ken stopped what he was doing and put his arm around her.  She suddenly
felt more comfortable, safe and protected.  "Then don't do it.  Or wait a
while until everyone is so drunk they won't notice."

   That was a pretty good idea, she decided.  "Okay.  Maybe I'll call home
first, then come down later."

   "Good.  And I'll be sure to turn the lights down low and crank up the
bubbles."

   Susan smiled weakly.  "Sorry to be so shy."

   He smiled back.  "I like shy."

   * * *

   Susan could hear the laughter from below.  It had risen a bit in pitch
and volume during the previous half hour, thanks no doubt to the wine Ken
had been pouring.  She walked into the bathroom and was relieved to find a
robe hanging there  -" something else she hadn't thought to bring.  She
stripped and then folded her clothes carefully.  Not that she ever folded
them at home; it was just another delaying tactic.  When she couldn't put
it off any longer she tied the robe tightly and padded down the stairs.

   Just as Ken had promised, the back deck was quite dark.  Susan could see
steam rising from the surface of the tub and someone's shoulders and the
back of a head.  Fine, Susan thought.  I can handle this.  She took a
moment to steady herself then opened the sliding glass door that led out to
the deck.  No one seemed to notice her.  She took a quick survey of the
bodies in the tub, which wasn't made any easier by the steam or the
darkness.  There was a gap on the far side between Ken and a male she
couldn't identify.  She walked around, dropped her robe and slid into the
water almost in one motion.  Enough bubbles churned the surface to make it
effectively opaque.  Susan hunkered down until only the top of her chest
was exposed.  Nothing to it.

   "This feels great," she said brightly.  And it did.  "Can someone pour
me a glass of wine?"

   It took a while for it to register with everyone that she was suddenly
among them.  But, judging by all the empty wine bottles lying around, Susan
figured that she could probably count on slow reactions from this group for
the remainder of the evening.

   Kate responded first.  She sat up to reach for a bottle, and Susan's
eyes went wide.  Kate had emerged from the water and was completely exposed
down to her waist.  Her breasts stood out like a challenge, catching the
stray light until her skin almost glowed.  Susan had never seen anyone look
so naked outside of a porn video.  She poured some wine into a glass and
handed to Susan with a big grin.  Kate was totally in her element.

   "We saved this for you."

   Susan nearly stood up to take it but caught herself at the last second.
Kate sat down and resumed the slightly incoherent story she'd been telling,
and Susan could finally assess the situation at her leisure.  Kate was
across from her, sitting next to Peter.  Very next to him, actually. 
Almost on top of him.  Ken was on the other side of Kate, which meant  --
oh, hell.  It meant that she was sitting between Ken and Luke.  She thought
about that.  Maybe she should move over to Ken's other side somehow so that
she could sit between him and Kate.  But she'd just be calling attention to
herself.  She decided to sit tight and edge discreetly away from Luke.

   Kate kept talking, but Luke's harsh baritone cut through whatever she
was trying to say.

   "Ken, buddy, do you have any tequila in this joint?  We should do some
shots."

   Ken seemed half-asleep.  He took a moment to react.  "Liquor cabinet's
next to the refrigerator.  Help yourself."

   Luke grinned and stood up, the water streaming off of his blocky torso.
He looked powerful and masculine, and he knew it.  Susan couldn't help
herself  -" her eyes stayed on him as he stepped out of the tub and onto
the deck.  His cock caught the light for a moment, raw and heavy-looking
with an unusually large scrotum.  And his butt  -- it kind of stuck out,
dense and muscular like the rest of him. Not my type, Susan reminded
herself.  Too crude.  Too cocky.

   He was back a minute later holding a bottle and a bunch of shot glasses.
He sort of posed with the bottle, looking like one of those statues of
wrestlers that had fascinated her when she'd first studied Greek history.
The wrestlers used to rub oil on their bodies before a match, Susan
remembered.  And they competed naked.  She shivered thinking about it.  All
Luke was missing was the laurel wreath.

   Damn it, Susan thought, what am I thinking?  She broke out of her
reverie and looked up from Luke's  -- mid-section to find him staring right
at her.  His grin widened and Susan looked away quickly.  Luke chuckled and
got back into the tub, quite close to her this time.  Someday, she hoped,
she'd get used to being around naked guys, especially attractive ones.  For
now she was just grateful that she didn't have to feel embarrassed about
her pussy being wet.  It was wet anyway.

   Luke poured shots for everyone.  He, Peter and Kate all knocked theirs
back and made appropriate grimaces and celebratory noises.  Susan sipped
hers, and so did Ken.  Fawn just held her glass politely, not touching it.
Susan hadn't pegged Fawn yet.  Did she lack a personality altogether or was
she just painfully shy around people she didn't know?  Susan made a mental
note to spend some time getting to know her.

   Luke poured another round, and then another.  After a while, Kate spread
her arms and lay back against the edge of the tub.  Her breasts floated to
the surface, pale and luminous.  Her nipples hardened quickly in the cool
night air.  She flipped her long blonde hair so that it spread out behind
her on the deck.  Peter watched her, his eyes glazed, like some hapless
soul in a fairy tale bewitched by an enchantress.  Susan shook her head. 
In a way she was grateful that she didn't have that kind of power over men.
Being nineteen and reasonably athletic was already causing her all the
trouble she could handle.

   She snuggled against Ken, careful to stay submerged, not quite trusting
herself after all that wine and tequila.  Kate, Peter and Luke had another
round.  Susan finished her first one and thought, why not?, just one more.
Luke's laughter, loud enough to begin with, acquired a piercing, drunken
quality that cut straight through the fog that was beginning to form in
Susan's head.  She leaned even closer to Ken, hoping that he'd put his arm
around her to steady her a bit.  But he was watching Kate like everyone
else.  She was standing now, her body on display from her hips upward.  Her
pussy was still hidden in the froth, but drops of water clung to her little
patch of blond pubic hair and sparkled like jewels.  She was demonstrating
some sort of dance step, but she slipped and had to be steadied by Peter.
She finally lost her balance completely and landed in Peter's lap, looking
drunk and startled.

   "What's that?" Kate asked, looking down at Peter and feeling around
under the surface with one hand.  Giggling: "You'd better put that thing
away before you hurt someone."

   But Kate didn't make any effort to move away.  In fact, she seemed to be
wiggling her hips under the water.  Susan looked around.  Luke's grin had
gotten wider, if that was possible.  Fawn looked away shyly.  Ken was a
Buddha: half-smiling, showing nothing.  Susan decided that it was probably
time to call it a night.  She thought about getting up  -" clearly the
first step in the process.  But that suddenly seemed like quite a lot of
work.  She needed a minute or two to build up to it.  Those minutes passed
and then a few more after that, and her tequila glass was empty and then it
was mysteriously full again.  Ken was still close to her, their hips
touching, but he seemed to almost be asleep.  Is that how he reacts to
being drunk, she wondered? 

   Kate had turned partway around on Peter's lap and was kissing him. 
Something was happening underwater too, but it was hard to tell exactly
what.  As usual, Susan's over-active imagination began to fill in the
details.  She wondered if she should try to wake up Ken.  He'd probably be
interested.  But perhaps he was really awake.  His eyelids fluttered, and
she could feel fingertips moving along her thigh.  She wasn't sure about
that at first; it could have been some trick of the water circulation  -"
her experience with spas was limited.  But then the pressure became more
insistent.  The sensation was an odd one, as if a fish was swimming around
her legs.  Odd but nice, she decided.  She'd been feeling a little
neglected, she had to admit.  Kate and Peter were doing whatever, and Luke
had finally started to pay some attention to Fawn, leaning over to whisper
something in her ear.  It was definitely past time for Ken to show some
interest.

   The fingertips made looping patterns on her skin.  The contact made her
tingle and squirm a little, just like Kate was doing.  Actually, Kate had
moved past the squirming stage.  She was sitting directly over Peter's lap
now, facing away from him, but leaning back against his chest.  Her eyes
were closed and her breasts bobbed at the surface.  Peter moved one hand up
over her chest, dragging his fingers over her nipples.  Susan couldn't tell
what he was doing with his other hand; perhaps the same thing that was
being done to her.

   Kate's lips parted and she made a soft, indrawn sigh.  Peter shifted his
body, and suddenly he was looking right at Susan.  His gaze was so intense
she didn't know how to react.  She watched him stroke Kate's breasts and
squeeze her nipples between his fingers.  Susan was only vaguely aware of
the hand that continued to caress her stomach, sliding over the warm skin
and along the undersides of her breasts.  She sank a little lower into the
tub, which seemed to encourage the hand to roam more freely.  It traced one
side of her breast then flicked so lightly against her nipple that she
couldn't be sure that it wasn't just a stray eddy in the current.  But then
the hand covered her breast completely and the thumb massaged her nipple
making her gasp and arch her back. 

   Peter's eyes never left Susan's.  He was just across the tub, a few feet
away, but the steam and the alcohol in her blood made him seem ghost-like,
ephemeral.  Kate rocked back and forth on his lap, and Susan was suddenly
certain that they were doing it.  She'd watched them before, hidden in the
darkness of her dorm room and again on the stairs in Ken's house.  And it
was dark now too, and sort of dreamy with the foam and the steam.  But this
time Peter knew she was watching, and that changed things.  But she
couldn't look away.  She'd never been able to, really, not then, not now.
She needed to see when Kate reached that place where nothing mattered
anymore except what was happening inside her, when she moaned and bucked
and the last of her restraint was gone.

   Susan thought about the hand that was touching her, trying to imagine
that it was Peter's.  But no, he was too far away, and Peter's touch had
always been gentler, almost reverent.  This hand was rough and insistent,
as if it was all about the goal and not about getting there.  But she
needed it just the same, really, really needed it.  The hand was caressing
her breasts, but she willed it to go lower.  And  -- yes, the fingers
stroked down her stomach and began tickling her inner thighs, which had
somehow gotten farther apart, and then they were playing with her pubic
hair.  Susan drew her breath in and her muscles tensed.

   Kate leaned forward.  Her body began moving up and down unambiguously.
Her face held a look of astonishment, her brow drawn together, her eyes
wide.  The hand drifted between Susan's legs.  Everything about the contact
felt different, not slippery-smooth like it usually did.  The friction  -"
it was the same everywhere, against her stomach, along her thigh, inside
her pussy.  It was as if every part of her was aroused.  A finger moved
against her clit, rubbing it back and forth, harder than she usually liked,
but it was perfect tonight.  She lifted her hips to drive herself against
it and suddenly she was floating.  Her breasts emerged like pale islands,
her nipples peeking out between the hissing bubbles.

   Peter licked his lips.  He looked down towards Susan's soft conical
points and the swells of her breasts as the water alternately displayed
then hid them.  The hand in her pussy was pure, raw sensation now, plunging
deep into her again and again.  Her head pitched back, soaking her hair,
and she choked back a scream.  The rising heat in her body suddenly made
the tub's warmth intolerable.  But she was still floating and couldn't
stand up, couldn't get her balance, and her hips thrashed against the hand
that was inside her.

   She put her arms behind her and grabbed the back of the tub.  Now she
could grind her hips, and she did, shamelessly, knowing that no one could
see her.  Her body began to tremble.  Her skin, already flushed from the
warm water, burned a dark pink at the top of her chest and down between her
breasts.  She hadn't ever felt anything like this before, the heat coming
from outside her and inside her at the same time.  But she needed to stay
in control, she thought dimly.  She was sitting outside with her friends,
after all.  She should  --

   Susan gasped.  There were two fingers now, thick and hard and cruel,
ramming in and out of her.  "Oh, god," she groaned as an irresistible
feeling welled up inside her, expanding, strengthening as it flowed into
her limbs.  She was shaking and she was half out of the water again.  She
had a brief glimpse of Peter staring hard at her before her eyes rolled up
in her head and the world turned black.

   * * *

   After a long time her body came back from wherever it had been.  She
reached down between her legs and gently pushed away the hand that had been
touching her.  She felt weightless and dreamy and spent.  When she could
finally summon the energy to raise her eyelids, Peter was standing up. 
Susan felt a pang of disappointment.  She'd missed seeing Kate at the end,
missed seeing her body thrash out of control while Peter pounded into her.
Susan shook her head, amazed at herself for thinking like that. 



   "I'm getting out too," Kate was saying with a self-conscious giggle,
probably wondering if anyone had noticed what she and Peter had been up to.
"I'm starting to prune up."

   Fawn, as ever, kept her own counsel, but there was a shy smile on her
lips for the first time.  And Luke was grinning, which didn't count for
much, since that's what he always did.  Except that she noticed now how
close he was to her in the tub and how the grin was directed towards her
rather than Kate.  Susan instinctively looked for Ken, but he had drifted
away at some point, or maybe she had moved farther from him.  He was three
or four feet away now, and he looked  -- serene, his eyes closed, his
breathing regular.  Was he really asleep?

   Susan's heart stopped.  The water in the tub, as warm as it was,
suddenly chilled her to her core. It couldn't have been  -- he wouldn't
dare  --

   "See you guys in the morning," Kate said, standing and turning.  The
sight of her bare butt, bright pink from the warm water, finally drew
Luke's eyes away from Susan.

   Susan moved quickly.  "Right, me too," she said, pulling herself out of
the water and wrapping her robe around her shoulders before anyone could
notice.  She leaned over to rouse Ken, trying to keep the robe closed at
the same time.  Luke, damn him, was looking up at her from the tub.  God
only knew what he could see from his low vantage point.  She shook her
head. It was pretty dark, and she had other problems.  She wasn't feeling
all that well.

   "Hey," she said.  "I'm going upstairs."

   Ken finally looked towards her, his serene expressing transforming into
his familiar warm smile.  "Well, it looks like the party's over then."

   With a nod towards Fawn and Luke, Ken lifted himself out of the tub in a
single smooth motion.  Susan wanted to admire his liquid grace, how the
water dripped along his smooth chest and the lean columns of his thighs,
but she was just too dizzy and miserable.  Ken noticed her stumble and put
an arm around her waist, and, still naked, helped her upstairs.  He hid his
disappointment well when she apologized, wobbled to the bed, and then
passed out as if she'd been clubbed.

   * * *

   Ken was solicitous the next morning, bringing her tea and sitting beside
her on the bed.  The room took a while to come into focus.  Susan hadn't
particularly noticed anything about it the night before.  There was a
ski-run map on one wall and dark, heavy furniture that looked more
expensive than stylish.  A window looked out onto a white mountainside that
bristled with very conical pine trees. 

   Her head felt as if someone had dropped a piano on it.

   Ken was wearing a robe he hadn't bothered to tie.  She wanted to admire
him, maybe even touch the places that the robe left exposed, but it just
wasn't happening this morning.  She'd been wondering what it would take to
completely purge her mind of all thoughts of sex.  Now she knew.  A few
shots of tequila would do it, apparently.

   "I don't think I'll be doing any skiing this morning," she said, trying
to sound chipper.

   "Not to worry," said Ken.  "I'll just stay here and take care of you."

   "No, you should go  -" it looks like a perfect day."

   "Wouldn't dream of it.  We've got three more days here.  What's the
hurry?"

   She really did smile this time.  "Okay."

   Ken found some electronica on the radio and refilled her tea cup.  A
little later, she decided that she could eat some plain toast, and Ken sat
beside her again and stroked her arm until she fell asleep.

   * * *

   When Susan woke up she felt fine.  Well, her mouth was a bit gummy and
her eyelids were glued shut, but fine otherwise.  Ken was sitting in a
chair nearby reading a book  -" something about Byzantine history from what
she could make out.

   "Hey," she said softly.

   Ken looked up.  "How are you feeling?"

   "Pretty good.  Maybe we can get some skiing in today after all."

   He smiled.  "Can I get you anything?"

   She shook her head, something that would have been impossible a few
hours earlier.  "No, I'm going to take a shower."

   Ken nodded.  "Okay.  I'll see you downstairs."

   She shook her head again, really appreciating her ability to do so for
the first time in her life.  "Give me a few minutes." She smiled shyly. 
"Then  -- would you like to join me?"

   * * * 

   Susan brushed her teeth first, which helped a lot.  Then she set the
shower as hot as it would go and stingingly hard.  She stepped under it and
let the spray pound her into semi-consciousness.  The tingling of her skin
stirred up some uncomfortable thoughts.  The hot tub.  What had really
happened there?  Who had been touching her?  Even at the time she had
sensed that it wasn't Ken.  And the truth was that she hadn't cared.  She'd
been watching Peter.  Not that she could really see what he was doing;
she'd had to infer it from the way his muscles had bunched and relaxed,
from the way his breathing deepened.  Having to use her imagination made it
worse somehow.  She'd needed someone to touch her, to make it all real. 
And Ken had been so out of it  -" drunk, tired from the trip?  She wasn't
sure.  And what did that say about her?  She liked watching Peter with
Kate. Peter's sexual energy was so intense, and Kate was so free, so
uninhibited.  Susan wished she could be more like that.  Seeing them
together made her feel  -- she wasn't sure what it made her feel.  Whatever
it was, it was different than what she had with Ken.

   Susan's skin reddened from the impact of the hot water.  She really
didn't want to think about it.  But now that she'd started, she couldn't
clear her head of the steam-shrouded image of Kate sitting on Peter's lap,
her breasts heaving, her eyes wild.

   A foggy shadow materialized on the other side of the glass.  The shower
door slid open and Ken stepped in, so at ease that Susan almost didn't
notice that he was naked.  She threw herself against him and wrapped her
arms around his shoulders.  That rattled his savoir faire just a little,
Susan noted with satisfaction.  Her skin almost sizzled where it touched
his.  Her breasts flattened against his chest, her nipples stiff despite
the heat of the spray.  He held her, one hand straying down to that spot
just below the small of her back that always made her heart race when he
touched it.  Then he let go of her and reached for the shower handle.

   "Mind if I turn this down a bit?"

   Susan tried to locate some soap.  "No, go ahead."

   The water began to fall less like razor blades and more like warm rain.
She stood in front of him and rubbed the soap across the front of his body.
She hadn't done anything like this before  -" she was improvising.  But it
was fun, and Ken was obviously enjoying it.  After a minute, he closed his
eyes and lost that faintly amused smile of his.  And when she got her hands
good and soapy and ran them over his cock, it hardened quickly under her
fingers.  Once his skin was shiny and slick all over, she spread the soap
on herself.  Ken watched, and Susan noticed a little twitch starting above
his cheek.  She hadn't meant to  -- to make a ceremony out of this.  But
the way he was watching her, his eyes lingering on her breasts and the
outward curve of her hips  -- it made her want to  --well, to reward him a
little.

   She ran the bar of soap between her breasts, rubbing the inner swells,
circling around one, then the other, finally sliding it across a nipple. 
Her own legs began to feel unsteady.

   "Don't stop," Ken said a little tensely.

   Susan smiled to herself and slid the soap down to her stomach.  She
moved closer to the spray, and it pelted against her skin, turning the soap
film to glossy bubbles that sheeted over her breasts and dripped from the
tips of her nipples.  Then she put her arms around Ken and pulled their
bodies together.  The frictionlessness of his skin against hers felt like 
-- like skating, only warmer, of course, warm and yielding  -- but with the
same sense of barely knowing what was going to happen next.  She
experimented a little, sliding from side to side, feeling her nipples bump
along his ribs and her pubic hair scratching against his scrotum.  His cock
was very hard now, trapped between them, its tip drawing little circles on
her slick stomach.  She felt breathless all of a sudden, and she kissed Ken
with more urgency than he was prepared for.  He held her tightly, driving
his cock head against her belly, and he reached down to run soapy fingers
across her butt.

   "Turn around," he said between kisses.  "I'll do your back."

   That sounded innocent enough, but she didn't want innocent right now. 
She reached between them and put her hand back on his cock.  She'd just
meant to touch it, to offer a little encouragement.  But, with the blood
hammering inside it, it felt so  -- it felt like she was holding something
alive.  Sliding the shaft between her fingers was so effortless.  She
looked down.  The head seemed to pulse, as if it could sense her lust, the
nearness of her loins.  She ran her thumb over the tip and felt his body
jerk.  So smooth  -- the wet, fine-grained skin, a bead of sticky pre-cum
leaking from the tiny hole at its center.  She circled around the opening
with one finger. 

   Ken shuddered.  "Turn around," he said again, an edge in his voice this
time.

   She did.  She looked demurely over her shoulder at him while the water
dripped down her hair and along the curve of her back.  She felt like a
nude statue from a fountain.  She tilted her hip a little, bent one knee
slightly to heighten the illusion.  She'd never felt so sexy in her life.
Ken moved closer, began to spread soap across her back.  She closed her
eyes and surrendered herself to the syrupy smoothness of his touch, and
then she could feel the closeness of his body, so near that the steam
coming off of his skin warmed her own and the head of his cock brushed her
butt.  A little jolt of electricity flowed from the place where his flesh
rubbed against hers.  Ken must have noticed the way she reacted.  He began
to move his hips almost imperceptibly, so that his cock skimmed over her
skin, the touch so light that she barely knew it was happening.  But there
was that spot, the place he could always find, where her butt began to
curve away from the small of her back.  She shifted a little until the tip
of his cock was touching her right there and its heat flowed through her.
She had to put her hands against the wall on the far side of the stall to
keep herself from falling.  She thought vaguely that he might see that as
an invitation, her legs a little apart, leaning forward, the muscles along
the backs of her thighs taut, her pussy exposed and its lips swollen and
wet from the spray and from her arousal. 

   She looked down and closed her eyes.  She felt Ken's cock against the
top of one thigh, leaving a trail of warm fluid, and suddenly she didn't
want to think anymore, she just wanted to feel him inside her, in the one
place that really mattered.  She pushed her hips back, tempting him,
imploring him.  And she felt tears running down her cheeks, almost
indistinguishable from the spray of the shower, but salty and hot, and she
realized that she didn't have to wait, to just hope that Ken would know
what she wanted.  She'd been modest, discreet.  But she was naked now,
alone with her lover.  She didn't have to be shy or ashamed.

   "What are you waiting for?" she asked.

   She looked back over her shoulder again.  Now Ken's eyes held the look
she'd seen when she opened her robe that evening in his living room.  The
look that said that he was transparent, stripped of all his pretenses. 
That look was private, it was just for her.  She felt a connection, a
special closeness, a feeling that fused with the pressure of his flesh
against hers, his cock sliding between her thighs, the head probing her
outer lips and the sensitive folds.  Her legs began to tremble again and
she tilted her hips back until his shaft lay along her furrow, the tip
bumping against her clit.

   He put his hands on her slippery flanks, digging his fingers into the
wet skin of her butt.

   "Please, Ken  --"

   She couldn't control her body.  It molded itself to him, trying to draw
everything it could from the limited contact, rubbing brazenly against him.
She just couldn't wait any longer; she reached between them and nudged the
tip of his cock into the entrance to her pussy and pushed back.

   Her body remembered his dimensions, and she swallowed him in one smooth
motion.  She let out a long sigh as he sank all the way in.  She felt
complete, joined to him as if some part of her had been missing until just
now.  Her legs steadied and they flowed together in an innate rhythm, as if
they'd never been apart.  He reached around her, stroking her stomach.  The
touch made her drive her hips back, holding him still for a moment.  The
familiar warm, liquid feeling washed over her, flowing outward from her
pussy until it filled her up and everything turned soft and indistinct. 
Ken was holding her tightly and she could feel spasms rocking his body. 
Then he wasn't inside her anymore; his cock lay against her butt and he was
coming, the hot liquid falling in ropes on her back and dripping between
her cheeks, mixing with the spray from the shower.  She turned, sliding in
his arms, until they were face to face.  She kissed him hard, rubbing her
belly against his still rigid cock, drawing a groan from him and one more
spurt of cum that lubricated the place where their bellies touched.

   After a long time Ken let go of her and leaned back against the tile
wall, his eyes closed, water splashing against his body.  Hi s expression
was unreadable.

   "I'm afraid of you," he said.

   * * *

   "The cabin actually belongs to my aunt," Ken explained.  "She tried to
teach me to play the piano years ago.  I think she lets me use the place
now in gratitude for my abandoning my musical ambitions after the third or
fourth lesson."

   That was typical of Ken, Susan decided.  His self-deprecation was his
way of defining himself.  All he ever talked about was what he hadn't
accomplished, of talents he lacked or projects that had gone comically
awry. She had to understand him from the spaces he left between his
anecdotes, like those pictures they show you in psychology, where there are
two faces looking towards each other, but if you blink you can see a vase
instead.  So he revealed himself, but you almost had to look away to really
see him.

   Susan watched the rest of their group while Ken spoke.  Kate sparkled 
-" there was no other word for it.  She laughed musically when Ken told
them about a cross-country ski trip rife with misadventure and featuring
encounters with hungry bears, incompletely frozen lakes, and irate
land-owners.  Kate looked very beautiful when she laughed, her teeth
gleaming and her blond hair flying.  She was at her best in company,
especially if there was alcohol (and there was plenty, not that Susan was
having any, thank you).  Fawn listened worshipfully.  Luke would
occasionally whisper something to her and she would respond briefly, then
turn her attention back to Ken.  Susan could tell that Luke was getting
annoyed.  Peter listened too, but he seemed brooding and pensive.

   Their main courses arrived and Susan picked at her chicken breast.  Luke
took the opportunity to interrupt Ken's narrative. 

   "Peter," he asked, "did you do any of those double black diamond runs?"

   Peter smiled ruefully.  Susan appreciated the break in his dark mood. 
His tension had been making it hard for her to enjoy herself.

   "I'm working up to it," he said.  "How about you?"

   Susan had been feeling well enough by late afternoon to try a couple of
the bunny slopes.  Everyone else had been more ambitious.  She visualized
Peter slicing down the steep runs at the top of the mountain, his athletic
body under razor-sharp control.  She felt a little twinge.

   "Tried a couple of them," Luke answered.

   He sounded awfully self-satisfied to Susan, but that may just have been
because she wanted to dislike him.

   "That Twin Pines run, you just have to close your eyes and hang on.  It
would be too scary if you looked."

   Now Susan imagined Luke wobbling down Twin Pines with his eyes closed
and slamming into a tree.  She sighed.  She just wanted dinner to be over.
She felt badly about that.  She should enjoy being with her friends, the
way Kate obviously did.  But right now she just wished she were alone with
Ken. 

   No such luck.  Dessert and coffee went on endlessly, and then Ken wanted
a glass of port, naturally.  She half-expected him to suggest cigars next.
But, finally, the bill arrived and they piled into the SUV for the trip to
the cabin. 

   It was still fairly early in the evening when they got back.  Dinner had
onlyseemed to last forever, Susan decided.  The hot tub was the unspoken
next phase of the evening.  Ken went to the kitchen to organize a bottle of
wine and some glasses, and everyone else went headed upstairs to get ready.
With the coast clear, Susan saw an opportunity to get into the tub before
the rest of the crowd showed up.  She still felt reticent, but she decided
that modesty in front of this group was getting to be a little silly.

   Susan had been soaking by herself for a few minutes when Peter joined
her.  She had her eyes closed and didn't see him get in.  She felt a brief
frustration that she'd once again missed the opportunity to see him naked.

   "Where's Kate?" she asked.

   He shrugged.  "Helping Ken with something."

   When Susan didn't respond, Peter said: "Ken seems like a good fellow."

   "Yes." She kept her voice as neutral as possible.

   "But I have to ask, when you go to a restaurant, does he order in
French?"

   Susan just glared at him.  As much as she wanted to reply with some sort
of cutting remark, she couldn't quite.  The thing was, he did order in
French.  But it wasn't an affectation or anything, it was just what he did.

   Peter looked smug.  It didn't suit him.

   She leaned forward and snapped: "At least I know that he won't lie to
me."

   Peter held up both hands.  "Hey, sorry." And he really was.  "No offence
intended."

   Susan stared hard at him for another moment while she fought to control
all the feelings tangled up inside her head.  She was half out of the
water, she realized, her breasts very much on display.  Her emotion drained
out of her as suddenly as it had gathered.  She felt foolish.

   But Peter was looking into her eyes, not at her chest.  That bothered
her at a level she didn't even want to think about.  She leaned closer to
him.  The deck lights reflecting off of the snow washed the color from his
face, made him seem abstract, like one of those impossibly handsome men in
an old photograph.  She closed the distance between them, sending ripples
splashing around the tub.  She put her hand behind his head, pulled him
closer, and kissed him quickly.

   "You're right.  I'm not handling this very well.  I want us to be
friends."

   There was a lot more she wanted to say, but she was pretty sure it
wouldn't come out right.  She looked down and moved back to her side of the
tub.  But her bare breasts were still floating on the pale foam.

   "You're beautiful," Peter said.

   Susan felt herself blushing.  She couldn't look at him.

   "You know  --" Peter's voice trailed off.  "You know how these weekends
usually go  --"

   She shook her head.  "Not really."

   "Well  -- if everybody's feeling  -- friendly and they're drunk enough,
sometimes, you know, they'll end up switching partners."

   "So I've heard," Susan said, suddenly cold again.  It had felt so good
for a minute, and now he was ruining it.  She hated having the same
conversation with Peter that she'd had with Luke.

   "If that happened, well, then we wouldn't be lying to anyone."

   Susan looked down, her face burning.  "I couldn't do anything like
that." But she sounded tentative, even to herself. 

   "Let's just see how it goes, okay?"

   "I'll think about it."

   Susan had meant that to sound discouraging, but Peter smiled warmly, and
a minute later, Kate, Ken and the rest of the gang were shedding their
robes and passing out glasses of merlot.  Susan made absolutely sure that
Ken sat downbetween her and Luke this time. 

   * * *

   This group can really put away the wine, Susan thought.  She seemed to
recall her mother warning her about this kind of behavior when she'd sent
her off to college.  But as much as Susan wanted to rebel against parental
authority, she nursed a single glass for as long as she could.

   Ken was explaining about the Amarone grape, how it's dried on straw mats
before being crushed, giving it a particularly robust character.  Luke
talked about their football team, a delicate topic since they finished the
season two-and-nine.  Fawn, sitting next to Susan, just listened, as usual.
But she was doing a fair job of keeping up the boys when it came to downing
the wine.  Susan wondered if that might help her overcome her shyness.

   "How long have you known Luke?" Susan asked.

   Fawn seemed surprised at the question, as if she couldn't imagine why
anyone would want to know anything about her.  "Just  -- let's see, two
weeks?"

   "Really?  And you decided to go on a ski trip with him?"

   "Yeah, well, I didn't have anything else planned for the winter break. I
was pretty bummed about that.  So it worked out, I guess.  How long have
you known Ken?"

   Susan laughed.  "Not much longer, actually."

   Fawn looked over at Ken, her eyes almost glowing.  "He seems so  -- so 
--"

   Susan smiled.  "Yes.  I know exactly what you mean."

   * * *

   Susan pulled herself out of the tub, hardly thinking about it.  She was
definitely feeling more relaxed about being  -- casual with this group. 
Still, when everybody drifted into the living room still wearing their
robes, Susan went upstairs to change.  She thought about what to wear and
finally decided on the usual  -" panties and an oversized t-shirt.

   Walking downstairs a few minutes later, she could see everyone else
lounging in the living room.  A couch and a love seat faced each other
across a coffee table.  Luke and Fawn cuddled on the love seat, Kate and
Peter at one end of the couch.  Ken, the perfect host as always, was
filling everyone's wine glasses and laughing at something Kate had just
said.  Susan hesitated for a second then sat down on the couch next to Kate
who, she noticed, had changed into her pajamas.  Susan looked around,
wondering what was going to happen next.  If anyone suggests spin the
bottle or strip poker, she thought, I am soooo out of here --

   But no one said anything.  Ken put on some music  -" trip-hop with a
bass thump that practically demanded to be danced to.  Kate was on her feet
right away, grabbing Peter by the hand and dragging him behind her. 

   Kate was fun to watch.  She danced with such innocent abandon.  There
was a pure joy in her gyrations, whatever they might lack in grace or
technique.  Susan always felt self-conscious when she danced  -" just
another facet of her overall repression, she decided.  She really needed to
get over it.  And she nodded resolutely to herself: I'm going to have a
good time tonight.  She stood up just as her intuition sent up a red flag.
She looked over toward Luke and, sure enough, he was eyeing her critically.
She certainly didn't want to dance with him, so she took the initiative and
walked over to Ken.  He was still fiddling with the equalizer, so she put
her arms around him from behind.  She nuzzled his ear with her lips.

   "Dance with me," she whispered.

   Ken turned, a hint of a smile at the corners of his lips.  "It would be
my pleasure."

   He took her hand gravely and led her to the center of the room.  Unlike
Kate and Peter, who were moving energetically but rarely touching, Ken put
his hand on her waist and held her close.  He knew all the social graces,
Susan thought.  He made everything seem so simple, so effortless. I'm
lucky to have him.

   "Let's go upstairs," she cooed in his ear after a decent interval.

   "I'd love to, but I can't leave my guests."

   "They're big boys and girls.  They can take care of themselves."

   He sighed, obviously struggling.  "Let's just give it a few more
minutes." He grinned at her.  "We could, ah, sit on the couch."

   She grinned back.  "Okay."

   She almost tore his arm out of its socket dragging him back to the
couch. He landed awkwardly on top of her, and she poked him playfully in
the ribs.

   "Kinda klutzy, huh?  That's what happens when you hang around me too
much.  All that style of yours, poof, out the window."

   He shifted around, still mostly on top of her, until he could look into
her eyes.  Her t-shirt had ridden up her legs, and Ken put his hand on her
thigh.  He slid his fingers upward until they were on her hip.  Susan
looked around quickly.  Was anybody else watching?  No.  Peter and Kate
were still dancing  -" well, it was more like Kate was hanging onto him,
laughing drunkenly.  And Luke and Fawn, tangled up on the love seat across
from them, were already a couple steps ahead of everyone else in the
public-display-of-affection department.

   What the hell, Susan thought.  Why wait?  She wriggled her hips a little
to encourage his explorations and turned her face towards his until she
found his lips.  There was something almost unbearably soft in Ken's
kisses, as if she might sink so deeply into his embrace that she could
never escape.  She'd been reluctant before, afraid of losing control, but
she welcomed it tonight.  She tickled his tongue with hers, nibbled at his
lower lip.  Her hand went under his robe and found his chest, toyed with
his nipples.  His hand kept busy too, stroking along her inner thigh,
brushing her mound and her pussy lips through the fabric of her panties.

   Susan's t-shirt was up around her waist, completely exposing her legs.
But Ken's body blocked everyone's view, more or less.  And it wasn't as if
they were paying attention anyway.  She really wanted to feel his cock.  It
was stupid and adolescent, but she'd been thinking about it all evening. 
She reached down, but the critical area was pressing against her thigh and
she couldn't quite get to it.  Finally, Ken figured out what she was up to
and lifted himself a little to make it easier.  She had to loosen his robe,
and her efforts grew more and more frantic.  It was another frustrating few
seconds before she finally had his very hard shaft in her hand.  She ran
her thumb along the ridge at the base of the head.  She loved that part, so
fragile and silky, and she just had to barely touch it to hear him gasp and
jerk his hips upwards.  Anyone watching them could guess what she was doing
from his reactions.  That excited her, she realized with some surprise. 
She felt the tell-tale drip of moisture along her inner thigh and the flush
spreading at the base of her neck.  She just held him for a moment, feeling
the blood-pulse beneath his flesh, deep and steady.  She saw muscles pull
tight on his face and a bead of sweat form in the little space between his
eyebrows.

   "You're driving me crazy," he whispered.  "Are you sure you want to do
this here?"

   She gave him a small nod, trying to make it confident.  It wasn't
exactly how she felt.  She leaned towards him until she could find his lips
again, and Ken laid his hand on the front of her panties, his thumb pushing
the fabric into the crevice between her lips.  She was already wet down
there, and the cotton rubbed against her folds with a smooth, sticky
lubricity.  His fingers sawed up and down, pushing in harder, deepening her
arousal with every stroke.  Thick pre-cum was leaking from his cock and she
scooped it up with a finger and swirled it around the tip.  Ken put his
other hand under her shirt, slipping it over her stomach until he could cup
one breast.  She leaned into him, to heighten the contact, flattening her
stiff nipple against his palm.

   An excited voice slashed through her reverie.  " -- over here." Then it
was closer.  "Come on," followed by a heavy thump right next to her. 
Susan turned away from Ken to find Kate sprawled beside her, pulling on
Peter's arm.  After a moment of teetering indecision he landed on the couch
at the far end.  The couch was big, but not that big.  Kate's shoulder
rested against Susan's and, as Peter rearranged himself, Kate's upper body
threatened to end up on Susan's lap.  Just then, Ken took Susan's nipple
and rolled it lightly between his fingers.  She felt paralyzed.  She looked
down and saw Kate, lying on her back now, looking up at her with a blissful
smile and a conspiratorial wink.  Peter's hands were everywhere (although
still outside her P.J.'s thank god)  -" stroking her breasts and her
thighs, tickling her exposed stomach.  Susan glanced at Peter for a moment
and found him staring back at her.  His look was a challenge, hard and
unforgiving.  Susan felt a little frightened, but she couldn't seem to
avert her eyes.

   Fortunately, Kate solved the problem by pulling Peter down until he was
lying on top of her, almost horizontal.  Kate reached inside his robe. 
Susan could see one hand running over his butt and the other tracing the
muscles of his back.  Unconsciously, Susan gave Ken's cock a small squeeze.
Ken groaned softly, and his finger began to work its way beneath the hem of
Susan's panties, finally pulling them impatiently to one side.  Susan
turned her hips towards him a little and spread her legs wider.  She wanted
his fingers inside her now, she wanted his thumb pushing her hood aside to
reveal the hard nub of her clit, she wanted to cum with her hips thrusting
up against his hand until it glistened from his wrist to his fingertips
with her excitement. 

   She looked quickly over her shoulder at Peter.  He and Kate were kissing
hungrily.  But if he were to look up  -- with Susan's t-shirt up around her
hips, her pussy would be completely visible.  The thought made her breathe
harder.  Peter would be able to watch Ken's fingers stroke her lips,
forcing them apart to reveal her moist pink recesses.  Peter was close,
only a foot or two away, close enough to smell her excitement.  Was that
what she wanted?  For Peter to watch while Ken touched her?  The thought
made her dizzy, disoriented.  She felt like she didn't know who she was
anymore, didn't recognize the girl who inhabited her body.

   Ken's fingers sank deeper into her and all her doubts dissolved.  Her
eyelids fluttered and she settled bonelessly into the couch.  Kate's hair
lay strewn carelessly across Susan's bare thigh, and she reached down to
stroke it idly.  Something made her look towards Luke and Fawn, still
sitting in the love seat a few feet away.  Susan made a small startled
sound when she realized what they were doing.  She had thought that she was
immune, that nothing could surprise her anymore.  But Luke's robe was open,
completely open, his legs, hairy and thick with muscle, were bare, and his
cock stood up like a cudgel, blood red and menacing.  She glanced at his
face, and for once it wasn't grinning back at her.  He was looking at Fawn.
He had one arm around her shoulder, and he was coaxing her lower.  She
hesitated, glancing around the room as Luke's hand moved her head
irresistibly towards his crotch.  Susan tried to catch Fawn's eye, to tell
her that she didn't have to.  But it was too late.  Fawn was looking down
at Luke's cock, and her tongue flicked across her lips.  Her mouth opened,
opened wide, and she began to swallow the blunt head.  Susan stiffened as
more and more of his cock disappeared into her mouth.  She forced herself
to away from Fawn and Luke only to see Kate pushing off Peter's robe until
he was completely naked, his muscular back and lean butt exposed.

   Not again, she thought.  I don't have to. I don't have to watch them.

   She turned back towards Ken.  His hand continued its gentle
explorations. But he was looking at Kate and Peter, drinking in the sight
of their bodies grinding together. I don't have to watch them, she thought
again.  Susan closed her eyes and nuzzled Ken's ear.  With his body leaning
on hers and Kate's head lying across her thigh, she really couldn't get up.
And Ken's hand, the feel of it stroking her over-heated flesh, she didn't
want that to stop.  Kate's hair was warm and soft.  Susan played with it a
little, letting the strands slide through her fingers.

   A grunt from Luke snapped her eyes back open.  Fawn was licking along
the length of Luke's shaft, its tip quivering with each stroke of her
tongue.  He was sprawled back in the love seat now, his arms along the back
of the cushions.  The scene in the living room had settled into a sort of a
tableau, repeated in an endless wet rhythm.

   Peter disturbed the equilibrium by undoing several buttons of Kate's
pajama top, exposing the inner swells of her breasts.  The bottoms had
shifted as well, riding down over her hips and exposing the top of her
pubic mound.  Peter's eyes raked her from head to toe  -" and then he
glanced at Susan, too quickly for her to guess his purpose.  Was it a
rebuke?  Or was he asking her permission?  She met his eyes uncertainly,
just as he seemed to be making up his mind.  He grabbed the waistband of
her bottoms.  Kate lifted her hips and off they came.  She was naked
underneath, her legs long and pale beneath the generous swell of her hips;
and her pussy, the smooth lips obviously swollen and damp with excitement,
even with her legs together.  Susan had never seen another woman like this.
It seemed too personal, too private.  She felt herself flush, and once
again she tried to turn away.  But she got it now, why guys wanted this.

   Peter kneeled between Kate's thighs, hunched up at the far end of the
couch.  Kate shifted back a little to give him more room, so that her head
now lay fully on Susan thigh.  And, with that, Susan knew she was
committed. She was a part of the scene, part of a silent agreement to share
their intimacies.  She wasn't hiding in the shadows this time or pretending
to be asleep.  But she didn't feel ashamed or uncertain.  She was deeply
aroused, barely in control of her own thoughts, the pressure at her center
leaving her faint and breathless.  She lifted her hips as best she could to
nudge Ken's fingers deeper into her pussy.

   Peter's head disappeared between Kate's legs, and he began to kiss the
smooth skin of her inner thighs.  Kate closed her eyes serenely and parted
her lips.  Peter took his time, as he always did, tracing a path up one
thigh and across her stomach with his tongue, tickling her belly button. 
Kate drew in her breath as he nuzzled her pussy lips for the first time. 
And Susan felt the sudden need to touch Ken again.  As she started to reach
for him, he undid his robe, which left him bare from the waist down, like
Luke.  Actually, everyone except for Fawn was in pretty much the same
state, Susan realized.  She brushed the fine, fair hair on the tops of
Ken's thighs and played with his pubic hair, so much curlier than
everywhere else.  She dragged a fingertip along the vein that ran up the
underside of his shaft.  He was harder than she'd ever seen him.  But even
so, her eyes kept straying back to Peter.  His hands were pushing Kate's
thighs further apart, his thumbs spreading her outer lips.

   Ken slid a little forward to give Susan better access to his cock.  She
admired his openness.  Sex was something that interested and excited him,
like history or thermodynamics, like French wine or renaissance music.  He
watched as Peter's tongue swirled around Kate's clit as raptly he might
watch an opera or a World Series game.

   A moment later, Kate's body began to react violently to Peter's
attentions.  She gripped the couch cushions and her hips bucked.  Her mouth
was wide open now and she made small reedy cries.  Her back arched,
stretching her pajama top across her breasts, nipples hard and pushing at
the thin cotton that barely covered them.  Ken was whispering in Susan's
ear, but she couldn't focus long enough to make out what he was saying.

   "Susan."

   She forced herself to blink, to hear what he was saying.

   "Susan, unbutton her top."

   His voice was the seductive, polished one she remembered from their
first night together.  It was a voice that frightened her, even as it
caressed her more surely than his hands or his lips.

   "Go ahead," he murmured.  "She won't mind."

   She looked at Kate.  Only three buttons held her top together at this
point.  Susan could reach all of them easily.  Her hand moved up without
any conscious effort, without her ever really deciding to move it.  But she
hesitated at the last moment. 

   "Go on," Ken whispered.

   Susan bit her lower lip.  She put her hand on the edge of the fabric
where it separated below Kate's neck.  Kate inhaled and the top was taut
again.  The smallest motion of Susan's fingers and the top button popped
free.  More of Kate's cleavage emerged, all of the voluptuous inner curves
and the dark edges of her aureoles.  Susan reached for the next button and
released it.  The top was open almost to Kate's waist.  The last button
looked ridiculous, uncomfortable.  Susan had to lean over a little to get
at it.  She held it between her fingers for a moment, just held it.  Then
she pushed the button through its hole and the two halves of Kate's top
came apart.  Her breasts seemed to quiver, sensing their freedom.  They
looked so soft, so inviting.  There were little bumps around the edges of
her aureoles, right before they rose to form stiff round nipples,
heightening the contrast with the creamy skin around them.

   "Touch her," Ken urged.

   His words hung in the air.  Susan's hand was still close enough to
Kate's chest to sense the heat steaming off of her skin.  She turned
towards Ken and gave him a slow grin.

   "Are you trying to corrupt me?"

   That earned her a raised eyebrow and a sly Mr.  Smooth smile. 
"Absolutely.  Is it working?"

   Susan turned back towards Kate without answering.  She shifted around a
little until the angle was right, until she could lean over and touch one
breast with her tongue.  She kissed the dark nipple then squeezed it gently
between her lips.  Kate sighed, lost somewhere, her eyes still closed.  Her
skin felt so alive, responding so openly to Susan's touch.  She envied Kate
that: no guilt or uncertainties, no repressed feelings.  Just pleasure. 
But something intruded at the periphery of her vision.  She turned her head
a little.  Peter was watching her, his expression unreadable.  His tongue
was still buried in Kate's pussy, but his eyes looked up over the soft
mound into Susan's.  Was he disappointed in her, or was he only surprised?
Did it excite him?  Shock him?  The held each other's eyes for only a
second, and Susan sat up.  It felt nice, touching Kate like that.  But it
was just too complicated.

   The loss of contact roused Kate from her trance.  She opened her eyes
and looked mistily at Peter.

   "Come on," she said.  And there was no refusing her.

   Peter's eyes turned helpless and bewildered.  Susan sighed, recognizing
that look.  He would do whatever Kate wanted.  And both he and Susan knew
what that was.  Peter crawled forward until he could prop himself up on his
elbows.  His face was only a foot or so away from Susan's, but he was only
seeing Kate now.  His powerful shoulders tensed, and Susan recognized that
as what his body did in the moment before penetrating Kate.  She turned
away, appalled at herself for knowing something like that, something Peter
probably didn't even realize himself; but the first thing she saw didn't
help at all.  It was Luke's face, oddly slack, his hand lying idly on
Fawn's head.  She was wiping liquid off her cheek and lips. Oh, god, Susan
thought, realizing what it was.  At least that didn't excite her  -" very
much the contrary.  She was disgusted and embarrassed for Fawn, although
the object of her sympathy seemed indifferent, as if she'd just been a bit
clumsy at breakfast.  No, it was only Peter she enjoyed watching, couldn't
stop watching.  Only him.

   Something in Fawn's expression changed as Susan looked towards her.  The
bland, doormat look was gone, and now she was looking at Ken with a brave,
hopeful smile.  Ken wasn't looking back, though.  He was watching Kate. 
Peter was still positioned over her.  He was rubbing his cock along her
oozing slit, the tip bumping against her, pushing her folds apart.  Susan
wasn't sure if Peter was being awkward or if he was trying to maintain some
sort of teasing control.  If so, he was barely holding it together.  A
muscle spasmed on one side of Peter's face, but the effect on Kate was even
more electric.  She thrashed her hips, frantically trying to position the
head of his cock properly to slip inside her.  Her mouth was open and her
eyes darted from side to side in a sort of panic.  Her shoulders came up
off of the couch so that her head tilted back, pressing harder on Susan's
thigh.

   Susan looked at Peter, feeling almost as distraught as Kate. Come on,
what are you waiting for?  Can't you see how much she needs it?

   Peter's face looked strained, as if his head was at war with his loins.
But Kate's carnality was sapping his will; and then her thighs wrapped
around his hips, and that did it.  He sank into her with harsh, dissonant
groans from both of them.  They began to move together immediately, violent
slaps sounding as their bodies met.  Beads of sweat sprang from Peter's
forehead, dripped down his face and onto Kate's chest.  Her look was
wide-eyed, astonished, her cries guttural now, from deep in her chest every
time Peter's hips lunged towards hers.

   But Peter wasn't ready to abandon himself, he was fighting it, fighting
his own primal needs.  Susan could see the resolution on his face, and with
a single brutal effort he pulled himself almost upright, kneeling at the
end of the couch with his cock still buried deep between Kate's folds,
perspiration gleaming on his chest, his expression unreadable again, but
his eyes looking straight into Susan's.  Her mouth opened in shock.  He'd
been thinking about her the whole time.  Susan looked away only to find
Luke staring at her.  He had pulled himself back together and his
expression was the one she liked least, cool and appraising.

   This is pretty fucked up, Susan thought.  Peter and Ken are watching me,
I'm watching Peter, Ken is watching Kate, Fawn's looking at Ken.  Susan
shook her head.  I shouldn't be part of this.  I'm lucky to have Ken.  He's
good for me, he challenges me, opens me up, teaches me about myself.

   She forced herself to concentrate on Ken, on what was doing to her.  His
hand was slipping all the way under her hips, forcing her to lift them a
little off of the couch, touching her in places where  -- where she wasn't
used to being touched.  She realized that Peter could see her, and probably
Luke too.  Actually, Luke was looking at her pretty intently.  The hell
with him, she thought.  She reached down and wriggled her butt until she
could work her panties off, then pulled them down and off her feet.  She
leaned back and opened herself for Ken, feeling liberated and primitive and
devastatingly sexy.

   Ken's hands caressed her skin, glided along her inner thigh and the
ridge at the top of her hip.  He laid his palm on her belly.  His flesh
seemed to burn against hers.  She was suddenly so sensitive everywhere. 
His breathing deepened as he ruffled her pubic hair.  It was his way, she
realized.  Like slow music.  He was savoring her in the same way he would
sip a glass of his beloved Margaux.  Susan smiled luxuriously and relaxed
into his rhythm, feeling the sensations heighten with each stroke of his
fingertips. 

   Even so, she couldn't really ignore Kate and Peter  -" Kate's head
banged against Susan's leg with each thrust of Peter's hips.  Susan looked
down to the point where their bodies met.  The long, slick shaft of Peter's
cock slid in and out savagely, stretching her lips wide and pushing them in
on every stroke.  His balls were hidden beneath their bodies, but she could
hear their slap each time their hips came together.  The muscles on Peter's
chest were pulled tight and the complicated ridges of his stomach rippled
and contracted.  He reached down and covered Kate's mound with his hand. 
Susan felt her own excitement spike out of control and she realized that
Ken was rubbing his thumb in circles around her clit, just as Peter was
starting to do to Kate.  Susan squirmed hard against Ken's hand, and he
slid one finger all the way inside her.  She gasped and grabbed his arm,
holding him there while her pussy contracted hard and moisture spurted. 
She arched her back, but her eyes stayed on Peter.  Their gazes locked for
a moment, and Susan's vision narrowed.  All she could see was Peter's face
and his shoulders, as if everything else in the universe had momentarily
faded away.  A sheen of perspiration illuminated his skin, and his clear
brown eyes, more enigmatic than ever, stared so deeply into hers that she
finally had to look down.  But that was even worse.  Now she was watching
Kate's breasts sway violently at the impact of Peter's hips and her stomach
curving smoothly into the darkness where the rigid column of his cock, dark
with blood, pumped in and out, the rounded tip pausing for a moment at her
entrance each time, and his dark pubic hair holding sparkling drops of her
liquid.

   For a moment Susan lost track of what was happening to her.  The
constant pressure that Ken had been applying was suddenly gone.  Its loss
left her stunned and almost desperate, but then she felt Kate take her
hand, and at the same moment her legs were being pushed farther apart.  She
sighed and squeezed back on Kate's fingers, knowing what was coming next,
and she could finally look away from Peter and close her eyes.

   She tried to figure out where Ken was now  -" on his knees in front of
her, leaning over her?  In front, she decided.  If he were leaning over her
she'd feel his chest against her leg, but there was only the whispery touch
of his fingers on her inner thighs and his warm breath on her pussy.  She
was already so aroused she didn't want to wait any longer to feel his
tongue inside her.  But rushing wasn't his way.  He kissed her thighs
everywhere; and she imagined all her nerve endings lighting up.  And his
fingers caressed her where his mouth had just been, stoking the sensations,
enflaming her, keeping her at the edge of  -- something, something she'd
only imagined but never knew if she could really have.  And every time she
thought his lips would touch her where she most wanted him, he would pull
back, and then he began to give her little bites, just pulling at her flesh
with his lips, scraping it here and there with his teeth, letting her feel
the different textures of his mouth, and licking, tickling  -- and
then, oh!, finally brushing her outer lips with his nose, with his lips,
kissing them, blowing lightly on them.  She wriggled on the couch, tilting
her hips up, trying to get closer to him, but the weight of Kate's head and
shoulders prevented her from moving much.  She bit her lip in frustration.
But Ken didn't react.  He kept kissing her, nuzzling her.  Now he was
following the inner landscape of her loins with the tip of his tongue,
barely touching her, just tracing the contours of her folds, pausing to
lick up her moisture.

   Susan's body was feeling so warm she imagined that she would be covered
in sweat before long, her t-shirt sticking to her skin, clinging to her
damp breasts and belly.  Should she just take it off now or would Ken like
seeing her like that?  Those thoughts scattered when Ken began to suck on
her inner lips, running his tongue across the trapped skin.  His fingers
were there too, and one had begun to worm back into her recesses,
squelching against the swollen flesh.  She heard herself making small,
sharp cries every time his lips explored some new spot that always seemed
to be even more sensitive than the last.

   He had a second finger inside her now, and her breathing became erratic.
She couldn't coordinate her motions; her muscles just wouldn't respond. 
She tingled everywhere and her body tightened and she knew she was past the
point of no return.  Ken's tongue lashed across her clit and Susan
screamed. Her pussy contracted hard and she felt as if she were being
overwhelmed by a wave that left her drenched and breathless and so
sensitive that she wanted to push Ken away; but she couldn't.  She was
paralyzed, all her nerve endings firing at once.  And then it happened
again, her body spasming uncontrollably, and then she had to make him stop,
she had no choice, only she still couldn't move.

   But, as always, Ken could sense her mood perfectly, and he pulled away
and sat back down next to her, arm around her shoulder, rubbing her back
gently.  Clarity returned little by little, although her pussy kept
quivering and muted ripples of pleasure continued to flow through her body.
She was vaguely aware of Peter groaning sharply and Kate's voice becoming a
hoarse wail and her body stiffening against Susan's leg.

   And then it was very quiet.  The music had stopped  -" had stopped quite
a while earlier, Susan guessed  -" and there were no sounds at all, just
breathing and the wall heater cycling on and off.  When Susan finally
opened her eyes, she realized that Ken had thoughtfully pulled her shirt
down to cover her pussy and he was lightly touching her neck and her cheek.
Her return to consciousness was almost like a signal to the others.  Peter
and Kate were sitting up and rearranging their clothing.  Luke stood and
stretched.  He'd re-tied his robe at some point, Susan was relieved to see.
He went into the kitchen and came back with a handful of shot glasses and
the now-half-empty bottle of tequila.  He poured a couple of fingers for
everyone and passed it around.  Susan tried to demur, but Luke gave her a
glass anyway.  Everyone (except Susan) knocked back their shots, and it
gave them all an excuse not to talk for another minute or two.

   And then Luke, who was still standing, looked around the room casually
and asked: "So are you guys ready to switch?"

   Kate giggled, and Fawn's eyes darted towards Ken for a second.  Susan's
thoughts drained abruptly from her head.  She knew that she needed to say
something, but no ideas came.  She tried again, even opened her mouth, but
still nothing happened.  There was a pause that drew out right to the
limit. One more second, Susan prayed, one more second, and if no one says
anything it won't happen  --

   Then, of all people, Fawn piped up with: "Sure.  That sounds like fun."

   Everyone glanced slowly at everyone else now.  Ken's arm held her a
little more lightly.  Kate, for once, looked down shyly and blushed.  And
it seemed that the decision had been made without Susan quite realizing
how. It was another moment before she noticed that she was staring right at
Luke.  The grin she hated began to form at the corners of his mouth.

   "How about it, Susan?" he asked.  "Are you up for it?"

   Her throat went dry.  But that didn't matter, since she didn't have the
dimmest idea of how to reply.  She looked towards Ken for support, but he
was wearing his Buddha smile.  Was it the tequila kicking in or was he just
letting her choose, not putting any pressure on her one way or the other?
Susan felt completely flustered.  She tried again to speak, to buy herself
some time  --

   And Peter stepped between her and Luke.

   "Hey," he said lightly.  "I saw her first.  Susan, would you like to
dance?"

   She could breathe again.  The wave of relief was as intense as her
orgasms had been a few minutes earlier.  Peter had his hand out.  She
glanced quickly back at Luke.  He looked stunned, standing in the middle of
the room with an almost comically perplexed expression.  He was used to
getting his way, she figured, and he hadn't decided how to react to this
turn of events.  Susan had to put her hand in front of her mouth to avoid
laughing.

   She stood up and glanced back at Ken.  He smiled indulgently.  Then, at
the last second, she remembered Kate, now sitting almost primly at her end
of the couch.  She looked a little blank, perhaps not completely recovered
from her session with Peter.  Susan took that as permission.  She rose and
accepted Peter's hand.  He led her over to the other side of the living
room and picked out something slow from the stack of CD's.  Peter put his
arm around her waist and she melted into him as the music started.

   Susan wasn't much of a dancer normally  -" she always felt too
self-conscious to really enjoy herself.  But this was different, completely
different.

   "Thanks for rescuing me," she whispered into Peter's ear. 

   "Hey, my pleasure.  I've always wanted to dance with you."

   They swayed quietly for a moment, Susan comfortably aware of his
lingering sexual scent and his gradually hardening cock pressing against
her stomach.  But that was no big deal.  She always associated Peter with
sex, so it was all a familiar part of the picture.  She felt very mellow
right now, and she could appreciate him without the bewildering,
guilt-saturated yearning she usually felt.

   "This is a little weird," Susan said.

   Peter nodded companionably.

   "Sorry I was  -- sharp with you earlier," she added.

   He kissed her lightly on the neck as a reply.

   They weren't alone, Susan noted idly.  Ken was dancing with Fawn, her
steps a little tentative, his elegant, as they always were.  Kate and Luke
were standing nearby, but they were talking in low voices, not dancing.  As
Susan looked over, trying to make out what they were saying, Luke gave her
his appraising glance.  She quickly put her head back against Peter's
shoulder.

   "It's all right," he said, "if you don't want to  --"

   She looked at him quizzically.

   "You know  -- switch."

   Susan stiffened.  Until now, she'd just been worried about getting away
from Luke.  She hadn't been able to think beyond that.  But suddenly she
felt that sweet ache at her center, the pressure building gradually,
irresistibly.

   "Susan, are you okay?"

   She had stopped moving and let go of him.  How had this happened?  Peter
was staring her.  She didn't see lust or swagger or masculine pride in his
eyes, just affection and a little concern.  She looked back at him,
suddenly lost in his deep liquid gaze.

   "Yes," she said.  "I'm okay.  And, well  -- you know, if everyone else
wants to  --"

   "Peter?"

   Susan's concentration was broken, but she couldn't react yet.  Too many
things were going on in her head.

   "Peter?"

   It was Kate's voice.  There was a catch in it, a little nervous tremor.
Kate had moved close to them and she was looking back and forth, from
Peter's face to Susan's.

   Peter finally turned towards her.  "What?"

   His voice had just the slightest edge to it.

   "Peter, I'm pretty tired  -" all the skiing, you know?  Can we just go
to bed now?"

   She was almost pleading.  Susan saw a dozen emotions race across Peter's
face so quickly she couldn't quite identify them: Disappointment?  Anger?
Frustration?

   He finally nodded.  "Right now?"

   "Yes, please." Like a little girl.

   Susan exhaled slowly, uncertain which of that range of emotions she
should be feeling herself.

   Kate took Peter by the arm and led him away.  And Susan was suddenly
standing by herself in the middle of the room.  It finally occurred to her
that the field was clear for Luke again.  Now that was a non-starter.

   "Ken?"

   He and Fawn were still dancing, apparently oblivious to all the drama.
But Ken looked up right away, catching the urgency in Susan's voice.

   "I think I'm going to call it a night," she said.

   Ken nodded.  Fawn looked a little shell-shocked.

   He kissed her on the cheek.  "Thanks for the dance.  Until tomorrow,
then?"

   Fawn didn't respond, and Ken untangled himself from her embrace.  He
took Susan's hand.

   "Are you all right?" he asked.

   "I am now."

   * * *

   Susan took her turn in the bathroom and found Ken snoring softly when
she came out.  She felt a little guilty pang.  Was he angry at her?  Or
maybe he'd just had a little too much to drink after a long day.  The dance
with Peter had left her feeling a bit  -- restless.  All right, very
restless.  She had hoped to work on that with Ken, get the whole episode in
the living room out of her system.

   She sighed.  She wasn't really tired.  Quite the contrary.  Getting into
bed with Ken right now would just make things worse.  But she couldn't
really go downstairs, not after publicly declaring that she was ready to
call it a night.  She spent a few minutes brushing her hair.  She looked
out the bedroom window.  Snow was falling, catching the light from the back
deck and drifting in silent spirals.  Susan shivered and wished that she
had a cup of tea.

   She stuck her head into the hallway.  Silence.  She really, really
wanted a cup of tea. 

   She waited another moment then padded downstairs in her t-shirt and bare
feet.  She seemed to be the only person awake anywhere on earth.  She poked
around in the kitchen cabinets until she found some tea things.  She'd
started the kettle going and was taking a tea bag out of its little paper
envelope when she heard a voice.

   "Hey." It was almost a whisper. 

   Susan froze.

   "Couldn't sleep?" Peter asked.  He was wearing sweat pants and no shirt.

   Susan exhaled slowly and shook her head.  "No."

   "Me either.  Where's Ken?"

   "Snoring.  How about Kate?"

   "Out like a light.  Can you make me a cup too?"

   She nodded and busied herself with the pouring and steeping.  She
dragged the process out a little, enjoying the little domestic scene. 
She'd never really done normal things like this with Peter  -" the clothing
always seemed to come off before they could just be around each other like
regular people.  She finally handed him his mug, careful not to touch his
fingers.  They stood close to each other, looking at the steam rising.

   "Would you like to finish that dance?" Peter asked.

   Suddenly her heart was beating so fast she couldn't hold her cup steady.
She put it down, sloshing a little onto the counter.

   "Was that a yes?"

   She made a very small nod.  Peter looked at her over the rim of his mug
with the same dark, flashing eyes that always drained her of her judgment.
He nodded back and walked into the living room, leaving her alone in the
small kitchen.  The house was quiet again for a moment, then she heard
something sad and sweet and very soft playing on the stereo.  The music
drew her closer.  Peter was waiting inside, almost a silhouette in the dark
room.  The light from the kitchen painted the smooth contours of his chest
with silver.  She put her head against his shoulder and her arms around
him. She could feel the beat of his heart through his bare skin, steady and
comforting.

   They didn't dance so much as hold each other.  Her nipples were so stiff
and sensitive that it hurt a little to press her chest against his.  His
cock was growing, working its way into the space between their bodies.  She
wanted to reach into his sweats and feel it, but she held back, for now
anyway, and just rubbed her belly a little from side to side against the
front of his pants.  Peter's breathing lost its reassuring steadiness. 
Susan smiled to herself and swayed a little faster.

   And then, without really meaning to, she was kissing him.  When their
lips touched she felt completely connected to him.  That was his gift. 
When she was with him like this, nothing else seemed important.  Ken, Kate,
Luke  -- they all just receded, faded.  She let her fingers stray through
his dark hair.  She was aware without really thinking about it that the
bulge in his pants was pushing against her and that her hips were gyrating
in response.  Her pussy felt warm and slippery and everything seemed to be
moving with such a dream-like slowness that she didn't notice at first that
he'd stepped away from her.

   "Susan?" He held out his hand.  "Susan, follow me."

   Peter's voice was so soft that she almost didn't recognize it.  He had
taken her hand and was pulling her along, past a door that led to a powder
room and down a short, dark hallway.  He opened another door at the end,
led her inside, and closed it behind them.

   The room was very dark, and Peter bumped around until he found a desk
lamp and turned it on.  They were in an office.  It reminded her of the one
in Ken's house, actually  -" there was a desk with a guest chair against
one wall and a big fold-out couch opposite it.  Susan looked around and her
body went suddenly numb.

   Peter and I are going to have sex on that couch.

   He threw the cushions onto the floor and unfolded the mechanism until
the bed part lay out flat.  It was neatly made up with sheets and a light
blue blanket.

   I'm going to betray Ken and break Kate's heart.

   Susan couldn't help it.  She started to cry.  Peter was about to pull
the covers down, but he stopped when he heard her.

   "Susan?"

   He put his arms around her shoulders and held her.  Tears dampened the
place where her cheek lay against his chest.

   "Bad idea, right?"

   Susan nodded mutely.

   Peter took a step back.  Something had changed in his eyes.  He grabbed
the bottom of her t-shirt.

   "Peter?  What  --"

   "Shhh.  I want to look at you."

   That made her cry again. Stop, she told herself. I'm being stupid.

   When she didn't say anything, Peter lifted the shirt, and Susan raised
her arms when the time came.  She stood awkwardly in front of him for a
moment, then she half-turned and pulled her panties down and stepped out of
them.  She heard Peter's in-drawn breath as she turned back to face him. 
The desk lamp outlined the edges of her curves dimly.  Most of her body was
in shadow, just hints and suggestions of secret, dark places.  She wasn't
even sure how much of her he could see.  But she watched Peter's face.  His
look went from stunned to wistful to achingly sad. 

   She didn't know what to say.

   She stepped towards him, close enough that their bare chests touched for
the first time.  Her nipples, fiercely, painfully hard, nestled in his
chest hair.  She kissed him chastely on his cheek then turned around in his
arms and closed her eyes.  Peter stood still for a moment.  Then, when she
didn't move, he began to run his hands along her body.

   At the first touch, Susan felt as if she were dissolving.  She
remembered the foot massage Peter had given her in his room, how intimate
his touch had felt.  It was like that, a different kind of sex.  Better,
maybe.  At least now it was; it was exactly what she needed.  It didn't
really matter where his fingers were: brushing the tops of her shoulders,
caressing her breasts, bumping over her ribcage, tracing the lips of her
pussy.  The sense of someone who knew her so completely, who wanted her so
completely was overpowering.  She let her qualms melt away, let his touch
consume her.

   Susan sighed.  She'd lost track of time, and Peter probably had too, but
they both knew it was time to stop.  She stepped away and turned back
towards him.  His eyes were fixed on her, intent and unblinking, as if he
was straining to remember every detail, every ill-lit surface of her body.

   Susan put her clothes back on and waited.  Peter gave her a shy smile.

   "I'll see you in the morning, okay?"

   "Okay."

   He opened the office door, peered out, and he was gone.

   Susan exhaled.  The long, difficult day unreeled in her head.  Her
morning convalescence.  Ken in the shower.  The little bit of skiing.  The
long dinner.  The hot tub.  Kate and Peter on the couch.  The dancing that
almost spiraled out of control.  Peter's touches.  None of it had been
planned.  None of it should have happened at all.  She shook her head and
walked out of the office, back into the hallway.  At its far end, where it
entered the living room, the hallway suddenly dimmed.  Susan stopped,
feeling a vague sense of unease.  Abruptly there was a hulking figure in
front of her, blocking the light. 

   Luke.

   Susan took a step back, cold sweat prickling on her skin.

   He came closer, nearly filling the narrow space in front of her.  His
look was the calculating, appraising one she dreaded.

   "I wonder where Kate is," he said mildly.

   Susan didn't answer.  She was pretty sure he knew exactly where Kate
was.

   "Peter was in there with you," Luke continued, pointing to the office.

   Something in the smugness of his voice ignited a tiny blue flame of
loathing in her.  "Your point being?"

   Luke shrugged.  "Maybe I should see if Kate's in there too.  You know,
just to say goodnight."

   "Don't waste your time.  She's upstairs."

   Now the grin appeared.  "Why don't you and I go into the office. 
Discuss this."

   "What's there to discuss?"

   "I think you know."

   She glared hatred at him, but that just made his grin widen.

   "All right," she said, turning around and stepping back into the small
room.  She was practically admitting some sort of culpability, but she
needed to give herself time to think.  Unfortunately, it wasn't hard to
guess what he wanted.

   Luke followed her in and closed the door behind him.  Susan noticed for
the first time that, like Peter, he was only wearing sweat pants, no shirt.
His torso was really quite splendid.  And she decided that she'd never seen
anyone she was less attracted to.

   "Nothing happened in here." That sounded hollow, even to her.

   Luke pretended he hadn't heard.  "I'm sorry we didn't get a chance to
dance tonight.  You were very popular."

   Susan didn't reply.

   "Looks like you're free now.  Shall we?"

   He stepped close to her and put his hand on her waist.  Susan shuddered,
but she didn't move.  She needed to think.  Could she get Peter to  -- to
do what?  Threaten Luke?  Beat him up?  Even if he could, that wasn't
likely to help. Damn it, she just didn't know what to do.

   "Maybe we should just skip the preliminaries," Luke said.

   He reached down and put his hand underneath her shirt.  Susan froze.

   "Take your hands off of me," she said tightly.

   "Sure."

   He was breathing on her, stale tequila and sour wine.  His hand slid up
her leg.  "I'll just go upstairs and see if Kate has time for a chat.  You
two are best friends, right?"

   His hand stayed where it was, but he started to turn towards the door.

   "No, wait." There was an edge of desperation in her voice.  "What are
you going to say to her?"

   "Oh, I'll just tell her what I saw.  She and I go back a ways.  She
should know what her roommate and her boyfriend have been up to."

   "Asshole," Susan hissed.

   Luke just grinned.  His hand moved further up her leg. 

   "Come on, Susan, you wanted it in the hot tub.  I know you did."

   She realized with a cold, certain horror that it was his hand that had
touched her the night before.  She couldn't let this go any farther.  She
fought to clear her head.  None of this made sense.  Whatever he did to her
now  -" it wouldn't change anything.  He could still talk to Kate later, or
Ken for that matter.

   Luke stepped closer.  His hand moved up under her shirt to her bare
breast.  There was no teasing exploration, no sensual discovery.  He just
grabbed her.  At the contact, something flared in her head, the blue flame
turning white hot in an instant.  She lashed out at him with one arm,
trying to push him away, shoving upward and catching him hard across his
nose with the heel of her hand.  She felt a distinct and oddly satisfying
crunch.

   Luke stepped back and bent over, holding his hand to his face.

   "You stupid bitch!" he yelled, blood starting to spurt out of his
nostrils.

   Susan glared back at him.  "I'm not stupid."

   "God damn, that hurts.  I think you broke my nose."

   "You think?  Maybe I should try again, just to make sure."

   She raised her hand menacingly.

   "Crazy bitch," Luke muttered, backing away and staggering out of the
office.

   Susan stood in the middle of the room in a sort of trance.  There was an
old mechanical clock on the desk, and it was so quiet in the room she could
hear it ticking.  With each passing second she could feel the heat of her
fury drain away.  She seemed to be collapsing inward, deflating, losing
every bit of the energy that had sustained her.  Luke was right, she
thought. I really am stupid.

   She knew that she would have to think of something, and soon.  Luke
wasn't going to just drop this, although his ego would probably keep him on
ice for a little while, at least until his nose stopped bleeding.  She
couldn't talk to Ken.  But Peter  -- maybe Peter would have an idea.  She
felt a dead weight in the pit of her stomach.  Everything was coming
unraveled.  But she had to do something.

   Susan took a deep breath and headed back upstairs.