Girls Only: College Days Read online

  “Kiss me.” Meg pressed her lips to Whitney’s and the guys howled, sounding like they were in pain, as Whitney’s hands dropped to her friend’s waist, pulling her as close as possible. The gear they were wearing was ridiculous—some nerd’s fantasy, obviously—and in the way. Whitney would have to take it off as soon as possible. But first, she met Meg’s kiss with a passion she wondered if her friend felt.

  When they parted, Whitney felt a thick throb between her thighs. The guys were still cheering. She heard someone say, “Turn the fucking feed on! Show them what they’re missing, the losers!” and knew that Ryan was seeing this. He was watching Meg and Whitney kiss on camera. And he was going to see way more than that, before the night was over.

  Whitney went to her knees and the boys went from howling to silent, almost immediately, but it was all ambient noise to her. Meg smiled, looking down at her with those big green eyes, her red hair falling over her pale shoulders, and Whitney knew she could have stayed on her knees, worshipping her forever.

  “A real show.” Whitney whispered, nudging her nose against Meg’s Hello Kitty panties. Meg made a little noise in her throat, shifting her weight, parting her thighs slightly, a sweet invitation. “You ready for this?”

  “Hell yeah.” Meg’s eyes brightened when Whitney hooked her thumbs in her friend’s panties and started sliding them down her hips. Someone let out a low whistle when they reached Meg’s knees and someone else groaned like they were in pain when Whitney parted Meg’s naturally curly red bush with her fingers, showing them all just how pretty her friend’s pussy really was. Guys were scrambling over themselves to get a look.

  And she was going to lick it, right here in front of all of them.

  Her own pussy ached at the prospect. Fuck, Meg was beautiful. She couldn’t blame Ryan for wanting her. Although that was the point, wasn’t it? He was cheating on her, so he clearly didn’t want her anymore.

  But Whitney did.

  “What in the hell do you two think you’re doing?”

  “Uh oh, Lucy.” Whitney met her friend’s eyes. “Sounds like Ricky’s pissed.”

  Meg rolled her eyes, glancing over her shoulder at the screen. It was set to picture in picture. They could see the other frat, Ryan front and center, his face red with anger.

  “Meg!” He bellowed. “Get the fuck out of there!”

  “Make me!” she snapped, turning and showing him a very slow, deliberate middle finger. Then she turned back to her friend, running a hand through Whitney’s hair. “Where were we?”

  “Here.” Whitney knew Ryan was going to come after them. It was only a matter of time. So she wanted to make this good. The best. Ever.

  She leaned in and buried her face in Meg’s pussy, hearing gasps and groans all around them. The circle of guys was getting closer, like vultures circling, looking for the spoils. But Whitney didn’t have any intention of spilling a drop. She licked and sucked at Meg’s clit while her friend moaned and tried to spread her thighs even wider, giving her better access.

  But Whitney wanted more.

  She eased Meg back, back, until the backs of her knees touched the coffee table. It was an old one, solid wood, and Whitney grabbed Meg’s hips, pulling her down to sitting, following with her mouth fastened to Meg’s fiery crotch the whole way.

  “Oh God!” Meg cried when Whitney knelt, shoving the redhead’s legs back and open wide with her hands, her tongue lapping up and down her slit.

  Whitney caught a brief view of the computer screen, the camera she was wearing showing Meg’s spread open pussy as Whitney’s tongue delved low, dipping into the entrance of her pussy, then lower still, teasing her asshole.

  “Whit!” Meg gasped. “Oh! God!”

  But Whitney wanted Ryan to see it all and sat back, looking at Meg’s spread open cunt, giving him a full view of what he was missing. Of what he’d given up for that stupid little kitty cat. Of what he was never going to have again, if Whitney had anything to say about it.

  Then Whitney dove back in, mouth fastened on Meg’s mound, using her expert tongue on her friend’s sweet little clit while she worked the straps on the stupid gear they’d put on. She wanted Meg, all of her, out of this stuff. One of the guys moved to help her and she slapped his hand, giving him a dirty look. The rest of them howled and “ooooo’d!” and laughed but she didn’t care. She’d marked her territory. Meg was hers.

  She finally got the straps undone and Meg’s bra unhooked, her breasts spilling into Whitney’s waiting hands. Fuck, she was so beautiful, and she tasted so good. It was like the nectar of the gods on her tongue. Whitney couldn’t get enough, sucking at her clit like a tiny little cock, swallowing her juices again and again, letting them coat her mouth and tongue.

  Her own pussy felt fat, swollen, uncomfortably wet. Whitney snuck a hand down between her own thighs, shoving it under the elastic band of her panties so she could rub her own clit while she sucked on Meg’s.

  “Try the vibrator!” Someone called. It was all a distant roar to her, but she heard that.

  Whitney had forgotten about it until that moment. She picked up one of the black vibrators, recognizing the design and the controls. She had something similar, a rabbit vibrator that rotated inside with a clitoral stimulator nub that vibrated.

  “Ready for this?” Whitney grinned as she slipped the cock between Meg’s swollen lips, watching in fascination and utter lust as it disappeared into her flesh. Meg moaned when Whitney manipulated the controls, making the dildo rotate inside of her friend’s pussy. Meg nearly came off the table when the black nub began to vibrate against her clit.

  “Holy fuck!” Meg cried and there were howls and laughter around them, like jackals.

  Whitney worked the vibrator in and out, teasing her friend’s clit, the sound of her wet pussy being fucking filling the room. The only other sounds were Meg’s moans and the heavy breathing of twenty frat boys with hard cocks. Whitney twisted and turned the humming toy, driving Meg crazy, seeing the taut tremble of her thighs. She was so fucking gorgeous, Whitney had to taste her again and used her tongue to flick the clitoral stimulator right against her little clit.

  “Fucckkkk!” Meg cried, her feet planted solidly against Whitney’s shoulders. “You’re going to make me fucking come!”

  The hoots and hollars, the cat calls, filled the room. Whitney ignored them all, focusing on Meg’s sweet button, back and forth, flick flick flick, buzz, buzz, buzz, determined to make her climax.

  “Oh God! Now! Nowww!” Meg arched and rolled her hips, forcing Whitney to abadon the vibrator and grab on with both hands, stilling her hips and sucking her clit as Meg’s pussy throbbed against her tongue. Oh she was sweet. So very sweet.

  “Oh my God!” Meg sat, looking down at Whitney as the still humming vibrator dropped to the floor. Meg was dazed, breathless, and she cupped her friend’s face in her hands and kissed her.

  Whitney was vaguely aware of the crowd around them. Meg hadn’t thought this through very well—her spontaneous, crazy, determined Meg. The guys around them grew restless. She felt the energy shift, growing hungry. They were prey in the midst of a crowd of predators. She’d known a few girls who were strippers in order to pay their college tuition and understood why it was important for there to be rules in those clubs, why they had big, burly bouncers.

  For protection.

  “Now you.” Meg grinned, running her hands over Whitney’s tits, palms brushing her nipples, making her shiver. Her voice grew louder when she said, “Bet I can make you come faster than that!”

  The boys took up that gauntlet and starting laying bets, never taking their eyes off the two girls as Meg situated Whitney on the coffee table this time, sliding her panties down. Whitney looked around, knowing the guys at the other frat were seeing everything she was—the endless faces surrounding them, a bunch of drunk, horny frat boys, every single one of them with an erection he would jerk later, remembering this night.

  Then she looked down at Meg as she settled her
self between Whitney’s parted thighs and knew Ryan was seeing this too—his girlfriend nuzzling Whitney’s pussy open with her nose and tongue, their eyes locked as Whitney half-sat up on her elbows. The sight of Meg, nearly naked, straps from the gear hanging from her shoulders, kneeling between her thighs, was almost enough to send her into orbit, but it was the press of Meg’s little pink tongue, slowly, softly lapping at Whitney’s aching clit, that gave her the a sudden sense of flying. That, and the still slick black vibrator Meg turned on and slid into her waiting, aching cunt.

  Whitney knew she should pay attention to what was going on—how the guys leaned in to watch, how they nudged each other and snickered and made comments too low for her to hear—but she couldn’t concentrate, not with Meg’s mouth covering her pussy, the soft quiver of her tongue so perfect, so delicious. She lost her hands in Meg’s hair, rocking her hips. Meg, too, found all this stupid gear extraneous and attempted to strip her of it, but she couldn’t seem to do everything at once.

  One of the guys—the big one who’d met them upstairs, the one she’d called Jason Bourne—leaned over to help Meg. Whitney glared at him, brushing his hands away, trying to do the straps herself, but she couldn’t reach all the fasteners.

  “It’s okay,” he said softly, meeting her eyes. “I won’t touch you.”

  She let him, moaning softly as Meg worked her tongue back and forth over her clit, eyes closing involuntarily. She was getting close. Oh, so close. She heard one of the guys say, “Thirty more seconds!” and knew she would make it. Meg was going to make her come that fast. Then the straps were off, her bra undone, breasts free, Meg’s hand cupping and kneading them as she worked her lips and mouth and tongue between Whitney’s quivering thighs. With her other hand, she fucked her senseless with the big, black vibrator.

  “Ohhhh fuckkkk!” Whitney groaned, lifting her hips, completely carried away in the moment. She forgot everything except Meg, lapping studiously between her thighs, paying such nice, close attention to her clit. That focus was persistent, tenacious. She couldn’t hold back anymore. “Oh! God! Meg! I’m gonna—”

  And then she was. Her hips rose up high, her pussy clamping down again and again around the black cock with her climax, clit throbbing uncontrollably, a hot, sweet pulse. Meg moaned too, licking and sucking even faster, making Whitney gasp and buck on the table. She nearly fell off, but she felt hands steady her, briefly. Big hands. When she opened her eyes, she saw Jason Bourne by her side, closer than the rest.

  He gave a brief nod and took a little step back.

  “Damn, I want to fuck that.”

  Whitney heard the words and knew what was coming.

  The show was over. It had to be, before things got out of control.

  “Meg,” Whitney said, grabbing her bra, her panties—Meg’s too—when she sat. “I think we should—”

  “Hold her down. I’m gonna fuck that pretty cunt.”

  Whitney didn’t see his face. She just heard his buckle and zipper, turning her face to his crotch.

  “That’s not funny, man.” Someone else, trying to dissuade the would-be rapist. “It’s a show. It’s just a show.”

  “You’re not fucking anyone.” Jason Bourne stood, putting himself between Mr. Crotch and the girls. Meg wasn’t paying attention, as usual, but Whitney stood, still dizzy, and grabbed her arm, handing over her panties and bra.

  “Get dressed!” Whitney hissed, yanking on her panties and quickly hooking her bra. Meg did the same, while Jason Bourne argued with a group full of drunk, horny frat boys who suddenly thought having sex with the two girls hired to put on their victory show was a brilliant idea.

  Of course, they weren’t the two girls that had been hired, Whitney thought. If they were, they’d have protection. And they probably only would have danced around and kissed and maybe stripped and done a few lap dances. They probably wouldn’t have licked each other to climax. On a webcam.

  Jesus Christ, they were stupid. Why did she let Meg talk her into these things?

  “Come on, Meg.”

  Upstairs, there was a crash. A very loud crash. Everyone looked up toward the ceiling in surprise. The girls stopped at the bottom of the stairs and Whitney glanced behind her to see Jason Bourne following.

  “Up!” He pointed at the ceiling.

  Whitney started climbing, pushing Meg out ahead of her. When they got to the top, Meg opened the door.

  “Meg!” Ryan roared. He was in the house, stomping down the hallway in their direction. “What in the hell are you up to?”

  “I could ask you the same question!” Meg tried to peek around Jason Bourne’s big frame to see her ex. Bourne had placed himself between “Killer Miller” and the girls. “Who is Cassie Friedman?”

  Ryan turned white. Whitney saw him over Bourne’s big, brawny shoulder.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I know what you did!” Meg snapped and Whitney heard the pain in her friend’s voice. “How does it feel, asshole?”

  “Meg, I’m going to beat your ass black and blue!” Ryan fumed.

  “You’re not going to touch anyone!” Whitney growled, trying to push her way past Bourne, who turned and grabbed her shoulders with a sigh.

  “Let me handle this.” Bourne turned toward Ryan, putting the flat of his hand against his chest and pushing hard enough Ryan found himself upended. He fell hard on his ass, making Meg laugh in delight.

  “No one is touching anyone.” Bourne blocked Ryan as he tried to get up, waving the girls on by. “And if you even think about it, Miller, you’re going to be the one who’s black and blue.”

  “Fuck you!” Ryan tried to get up but Bourne stepped on his hand, palm flat on the floor, and he howled in pain.

  “Come on!” Whitney edged past Bourne, pulling Meg with her, heading down the hallway to the room they’d originally geared up in.

  “He’s such an asshole!” Meg mumbled as they started getting dressed.

  “I told you that a long time ago.” Whitney didn’t like saying she told her so. But she had. Several times.

  “Well at least I got him back.” Meg pulled her t-shirt over her head. “Now he knows what it feels like to be cheated on.”

  “Let Cassie Friedman have him.” Whitney zipped her jeans. “They deserve each other.”

  She peeked out the door and saw Bourne and Killer Miller in heated argument. She wanted to get them the hell out of there. They’d go back to their little apartment, eat Ben & Jerry’s, watch Breaking Bad reruns and she’d let Meg cry on her shoulder. Because she knew that was coming. Any minute, that was coming. Meg was like a dam, holding everything back, until she couldn’t anymore.

  “Whit…?”

  “Huh?” Whitney tried to judge if Ryan would notice them sneaking down the hall and out the front door.

  “Thanks.” Meg’s arms went around her waist, her cheek resting against Whitney’s shoulder. “You’re so good to me.”

  “I know.” Whitney smiled, leaning her cheek against the door jamb.

  “Too good.” Meg swallowed. The sound was loud in the quiet room. “You know I love you, right?”

  “Right.” Whitney felt her throat closing up, tears stinging her eyes. Damnit, she didn’t have time for this. “Love you too, sis.”

  Love you like a sister. They’d uttered those words since frehman year, Whitney lying through her teeth, because she didn’t love her like a sister, not at all. She loved her, plain and simple. And she knew she was never, ever going to have her, unless it was like this, as one of Meg’s little schemes.

  “No.” Meg turned Whitney to her, eyes soft. “I mean… I love you, Whit. I love you. Not like a sister. Like…”

  “Meg…” Now it was Whitney’s turn to swallow.

  “I’ve been really stupid, for a really long time,” Meg admitted. “Do you even still want me?”

  “More than anything.” Whitney’s heart soared.

  “Let’s go home.”

  Their lips met and everythin
g else disappeared.

  Then a cheer went up from somewhere down in the basement. It wasn’t until that moment that Whitney realized they were still wearing their head gear. They were still broadcasting everything.

  Whitney laughed, pulling it off and tossing it on the bed and Meg did the same.

  “Come on.”

  “Thanks!” Whitney mouthed, waving to Bourne as they snuck past. It wasn’t fast enough though because Ryan glimpsed them.

  “You fucking dyke!” He screamed at Whitney.

  “Shut up, asshole!” Meg gave him the finger. “I hope she scratches your eyes out!”

  “Fuck you!” He snapped, pinned to the wall by Bourne’s big arms. “You two deserve each other!”

  “We do.” Meg smiled and put her arm around her best friend and new lover.

  On their way out the door, they ran into two girls coming up the walkway.

  “Is this Alpha Theta Tau?” the tall blonde asked. “We’re supposed to do a show.”

  Meg and Whitney looked at each other and burst out laughing.

  The End

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