The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

4

Mid-terms ended and for a week everyone waited to learn about how well they had done on the exams. The weather turned suddenly cold, with a white glaze of frost on the lawns in the mornings, and Cindy’s biking class got to add a tight-fitting insulated stretch suit over their latex bodysuits. One afternoon Cindy came in, carrying her bicycle helmet under her arm, and said, “God, I’m frying. Hey, can you help me get out of this thing?”

“Sure,” Fiona said, saving the file she had been working on and hopping up from the computer. Cindy peeled the insulated suit off. Beneath that, the pink latex bodysuit looked squishy and strangely loose. “Oh my God,” Fiona said, laughing. “You’ve got like a pint of sweat in there.”

“Tell me about it. Hey, get the shower going, okay? And bring me a towel, please.”

The freshman dorm was set up so that every two rooms shared a bathroom between them. Fiona’s and Cindy’s neighbors, Trudy Walters and June Neal, didn’t seem to be in—the door to their room stood ajar. Fiona closed it and got a nice warm shower running. That was one good thing about the dorm: the shower stall was huge, big enough to throw a reasonable party in, and you never, ever ran out of hot water. She grabbed one of the big, fluffy white body-sheet towels from the linen closet and took it back in to the red-faced Cindy. Sweat had plastered her dark brown hair down across her forehead. “Thanks,” she said. “Okay, skin me.”

Fiona giggled. She slipped her fingers into the neck of the bodysuit and tugged hard. The rubber stretched, making a sucking sound as it peeled away from Cindy’s wet flesh, but it refused to tear. “Can’t get it started. Hang on.” She got a pair of small scissors from her desk drawer and clipped the neckline of the bodysuit just over the bumps at the top of Cindy’s spine. “Here we go.” She pulled, and this time the stretchy pink rubber tore away in a long curve. Runlets of sweat dripped over the waistband of the bodysuit, creeping in serpentine paths over Cindy’s rubber-smoothed thighs, and Fiona wrinkled her nose. “You really need a shower.”

“It’s too damn hot in these things,” Cindy groused. “You’re lucky—you get to splash around in the pool while you’re all dressed out for PE. Help me get my arms out.”

The suit arms ended in tight-fitting gloves. Cindy extended her right hand, and Fiona tugged at the fingertips, as Cindy drew her hand back. When she had a little slack, Fiona clipped the tips of the fingers, and then the sleeve peeled off much more easily, with a sucking sound. “Ahh,” Cindy said as her arm came free. She reached and tugged the other sleeve loose. When both of her arms were out, the bubblegum-pink rubber still clung to her boobs. She spread her arms out. “Cool. It’s pasted to me!” She did a side-to-side jiggle, and her pink boobs bobbed and bounced.

Laughing, Fiona grabbed the top of the suit and pulled, and Cindy’s big breasts bobbled out, the nipples stiff and pink, dewed with sweat. “Bet you’re salty,” she teased.

“Bet I’d taste like that damn silicone lubricant. Give me the towel.”

Fiona licked her lips as she watched Cindy dry her torso. Then Cindy hooked her thumbs in the waistband and pushed down, hard, tearing the pants part of the suit. It shucked away from her long legs, and she pulled it free from her feet. Standing on her left foot, she tried to towel the right one.

“You’ll fall and break your neck,” Fiona said thickly. “Here, I’ll do it.” She knelt and Cindy lifted her foot. Tenderly, Fiona dried it. Then the left one. As she wiped the sweat and lubricant off Cindy’s skin, Fiona darted a quick, questioning look up. “Your pussy is so smooth,” she said.

“Well, yours, too,” Cindy said, putting a hand on Fiona’s shoulder for balance. “The hair removal was the best idea we’ve had. Thanks. I’m gonna shower off now. Care to join me?”

“I might,” Fiona said with a wicked smile. Cindy padded into the bathroom, and Fiona heard the rattle of the shower door sliding open. She put a hand to her cheek. Did she feel hot? She couldn’t really tell. Cindy started singing something off key.

Without really thinking about it, Fiona pulled her baggy sweatshirt over her head, letting her own boobs out. She had stopped wearing a bra a couple of weeks before, finding them annoying and binding now that she was, well, yes, developing a little. Protein drink, exercise, whatever, her tits definitely felt and looked rounder. Fiona tugged off her jeans and panties and then went into the bathroom. She opened the shower stall and stepped in. “Hi.”

“Hi yourself,” Cindy said with a grin. “Hey, you can soap my back.”

“Sure, and then you can do me.”

“Deal.”

Fiona squirted a generous dollop of strawberry body wash onto a washcloth. The stuff was of no real brand. The generic label just read “St. Incunditas: Bath and Body Gel.” Whatever it was, it foamed into lush, billowing, creamy suds at once. Cindy hummed while Fiona soaped her back, admiring those smooth curves, the firm feel of shoulders, the insweep of her waist, the firm, pliant mounds of her buttocks. “Nice,” Cindy murmured. “Oh, real nice. Feels great.”

She rinsed and then said, “Now you turn around.”

Fiona obediently turned, and a moment later she felt the caress of the cloth on her own back, so slippery, so sensuous. “Oh, that does feel good,” she said.

“How’s this?” Slyly, Cindy slipped her cupped hand around, filled with pinkish foam, and smoothed it over Fiona’s right breast.

Fiona bucked a little in surprise. “Ooh! Cindy—”

“God, your nipple’s so hard. Let me do the other one. . . .”

Fiona gasped. She felt Cindy’s breasts pressing into her back, felt her left hand come around to soap and tease her left breast. Her knees were trembling, and she felt as if her pussy were gushing. “We shouldn’t. . . do this. . . .” she muttered thickly.

“Okay. Rinse off, then.”

Cindy left her in the stall alone, and Fiona let the warm water stream over her, telling her heart to slow down, her breath to return to normal. She turned off the water at last and opened the stall door. “Oh!”

Cindy sat on the closed toilet, her legs spread wide, her fingers busy at her pussy. “Sorry,” she said with a lascivious smile. “I got sort of turned on there, and, ahh, ahhh, ahhhh. . . .ah, yeahhhhhh. I had to do something about it.”

Fiona watched fascinated as Cindy withdrew her first and second fingers from her snatch, glistening with her own juices. Cindy raised an eyebrow and put her fingers into her mouth. She sucked loudly, then said, “You know, I think I really am a little saltier than usual.”

Fiona quickly wrapped a towel around her and hurried back into their room. She tugged on panties and a top, then lay down on her bed, breathing hard. A minute later, Cindy came out humming and pulled on her pajama bottoms. “Didn’t mean to embarrass you, Fi.”

“That’s. . . that’s okay,” Fiona said. “I just never—I mean, I know you do that, but I’ve never actually, uh, watched.”

“You ought to try it,” Cindy advised. “Great way to work off the tensions. You don’t even have to stick a finger in. Matter of fact, you probably shouldn’t, because you’d probably pop your cherry, and that sorta hurts. But give the little old pink clit a nice rubdown, and you feel great.”

“I don’t know what’s the matter with me,” Fiona grumbled, hugging her pillow. “I keep thinking about, you know, sex. I never used to be this curious or this, uh, this. . . .”

“The word is horny,” Cindy offered helpfully. “Hey, I didn’t notice. Did the treatment take with you? Any little hairs still sprouting from your pussy?”

“I haven’t noticed any.” Fiona still felt sort of funny about having had the depilatory treatment. The lady in the campus spa had explained that once it was done, she’d never grow hair, uh, down there again. But Cindy was going through with it, and Fiona didn’t think she should back out, and so. . . but what if her future husband, Mr. Right, liked a little fur down there?

“God, I hope my grades are good enough to let me go into town,” Cindy said. “I am so going to find a good-looking guy and screw him.”

“Be careful. You’ll catch something.”

“I’ll make him use a condom.” Cindy hadn’t put on a top. She idly cupped her breasts, using her thumbs to tease her nipples. “I am definitely getting bigger. Miss Traynor told me to report to the gym Monday afternoon to have my suit form recast. Mm, big old titties. Ought to attract a few guys.” She lowered her chin and pressed up on her boob, and to Fiona’s shock, she licked her own nipple. Fiona felt her own breasts tingle in a kind of sympathetic anticipation.

“Cindy,” she said seriously, “I got sort of excited by what we were doing.”

“Yeah? So did I. As you saw.”

Fiona’s throat felt tight. “I felt like I wanted to, uh, love you. Is that sick?”

“I don’t think so.”

Fiona’s eyes burned, and she knew tears were ready to spill. “Oh, Cindy—what if I’m a—a lesbian?”

“What if you are?” Cindy asked with a yawn. “But I don’t think you are, really. I mean, you’ve never even tasted a cock, let alone had one inside you. I think you’re just kind of horny and randy and curious about sex, that’s all. You know, if we, like snuggled and fingered each other’s pussies and got off that way, or even if we ate each other out, I still don’t think that would make us lesbians. Especially since we don’t have any boys around! It would just mean that we’re hard up for sex.”

“I wonder if some of the girls, you know, do that sort of thing.”

Cindy gave a sharp bark of a laugh. “You’re kidding, virgin. Of course they do! My God, haven’t you ever gone past the senior dorm on a nice warm day?”

Fiona shook her head. The senior dorm was all the way across campus, and she had only seen it from a distance.

“Oh, right, you don’t have any reason to go over there,” Fiona said. “Well, the bike trail leads past it. Swear to God, back when we first got here, we’d come around the curve and I’d look over at the senior dorm lawn, and there might be six couples there sixty-nining each other. You could smell pussy on the air!”

“Sixty-nining?” Fiona asked.

Cindy rolled her eyes. “You are innocent. Yes, sixty-nining. Doing each other? Eating each other’s pussies at the same time?”

“Oh.”

“Hey, don’t knock it if you haven’t tried it.”

“I don’t think I could,” Fiona said.

“What, lick another girl’s slit? It’s not bad.”

“Have you done it?” Fiona asked.

“Time or two,” Cindy replied with a yawn. “Any port in a storm. Take it from me, when it comes to oral sex, a girl can do another girl a lot better than a boy can do a girl. Boys think you’re supposed to, like, suck and smack and slobber and all that. Lot of them can’t even find a clit! But a girl knows just what another girl likes. I’ll show you some time.”

“Uh, no, thanks.”

Cindy jiggled her boobs. “Guess I’d better put these babies away. Ready to go eat? Food, I mean. Dinner.”

“Yes, I guess so. I’m a little hungry.”

“Okay. Get decent and we’ll see what the menu is tonight.”

Like all the rest of St. Incundita’s, the dining hall was very strictly divided. The freshmen students ate at the tables at the back of the big dining hall, farthest from the serving line. The sophomores were in the next closest tier, and then the juniors, and last of all the seniors. When everyone was there, something more than five hundred girls sat at the tables. Because the servings were spread out over three hours, except for special holiday occasions, the big room was very rarely full.

Cindy picked out vegetarian lasagna—working out on the bike twice a week, sweating out the calories as she did, she didn’t really have to worry about gaining weight. Fiona went with a small salmon steak and a salad. They joined two of their friends, Simone Ranwick and Judy Blanchard, at a table. “Hi,” Judy said. “Got your English done yet?

“Turned it in today,” Fiona said, and Cindy made a face.

Cindy said, “I’m lousy at these papers. I think I’ll take the oral option.”

Professor Barnes usually required one essay a week from his literature students, but if any student got behind, she could choose to take an oral exam in the professor’s office instead for one paper per term. Cindy had always felt that not turning in a paper would somehow be cheating, but then she found essays pretty easy to write.

“Girl,” Simone said, “you’d better just write the paper. I hear that Professor Barnes’s orals are really deep. I mean, he probes.”

Cindy took a bite of lasagna. “I think I could handle him,” she said. “So, Judy, did you decide what classes you’re taking next term?”

“Gonna sign up for French,” she said promptly, “if I can get Barnes.”

“Does Professor Barnes teach French as well as English?” Fiona asked, surprised.

“French, Spanish, Italian. He’s a cunning linguist,” Simone said.

“Of course, he doesn’t do that all the time,” Judy said. “Most terms he teaches at lest one foreign language, along with literature, though. I like him. I’d like to be with him again.”

“Somebody’s got a crush,” Cindy teased.

“I could do worse,” Judy replied. She sighed. “God, I hope I get permission to go into town. Are you girls as cock-hungry as I am?”

“Judy!” Simone said, nudging her. “Not in front of Fiona!”

“That’s okay,” Fiona said, looking down at her food. The salmon was so. . . pink. “I mean, I don’t have a lot of experience, but I do know that guys have . . . cocks.” God, she had said it!

Simone sighed and reached for her protein drink. It was malty, sweet, something like a milkshake with a head of foam on it. “A toast, a toast!”

Fiona picked up her own cold glass. Funny, when she had first come to the college, she had not cared for the drink at all, but the taste had grown on her. Giggling, she raised her glass.

“To boys and cock, and let our world rock,” Simone said.

Judy sniggered and said, “To a cock for my pussy, and I’m really not. . . fussy!”

“That’s terrible!” Fiona said, shaking with laughter.

“Do better,” Judy dared her.

Fiona thought. “To a handsome boy and what comes between us, a big and springy and throbbing penis!”

The whole table dissolved in a fit of giggles, and then Cindy raised her glass. “Got one! To the boy who can make me hum, fill me with love and fill me with cum!”

They drank, and Fiona noticed how the frothy white liquid left little translucent mustaches on her friends’ upper lips. She felt the strangest momentary urge.

She would have liked to lick it all off.

5

Cindy got her wish, coming in after midterms with a nice 3.5 grade-point average and qualifying for the day trips into town. So did Fiona, for that matter, with a 3.7.

Unfortunately, on the next Saturday she couldn’t leave campus, because she had earlier agreed to help decorate the Student Center for the big Halloween party. So while Cindy and a bunch of her friends climbed on one of the shuttle buses for the run into town, Fiona was stuck making centerpieces of autumn leaves, Indian corn, and round orange gourds that looked just like miniature pumpkins. Late that afternoon she went for a walk around campus. The place seemed strangely deserted. Very few girls had chosen to remain on campus, except for those who hadn’t made the 2.5 GPA cut.

The trees stood almost bare, and the air felt nippy. Somehow Fiona’s path led her across the campus and past the senior dorm, but no one was on the lawn, sixty-nining or otherwise. Fiona made a wide circle and sat for a few minutes on a bench near the campus lake. A small flotilla of Canada geese rode the silvery water. Didn’t they realize that winter was coming? They’d better get a move on.

Fiona sat, chin in hand. Her family lived in central Florida, where her father was in real estate. Fiona was used to year-round warm temperatures, to hot sunshine even in December. This northern campus was taking some getting used to. Fiona had to admit she missed the beach, too. In high school, any time the kids had wanted, they’d hop in the car and run over to the Atlantic coast or to the Gulf coast.

Of course, the other girls usually paired up with guys. She never had, somehow. Fiona didn’t know what it was, really. Did she give off some kind of vibe that caused guys to lose interest in her? Or was she, God forbid, really, that way? Lesbian?

No, she thought, making a fist. She’d seen plenty of cute boys in high school. Boys she could really go for. . . except she never had. Maybe it was because she’d always been kind of plain, with her almost-blond hair and her almost-sapphire eyes and her small bust. She’d never worn a two-piece bathing suit, and her tank suit had a top that anybody could tell was padded. She’d often thought that if a boy ever took her top off, the way some of the girls talked about, he’d think he was undressing another guy.

Too bad she hadn’t started to blossom like, well, like this when she was in high school. Like Cindy, Fiona had a burgeoning bust. Not that it was doing her much good. With a sigh, she got up and headed back to the dorm.

She was passing the Student Center again when, on impulse, she went inside. Student Services had a whole wing of the building to itself, and at the end of a long corridor she found a frosted glass door with COUNSELING stenciled on. Nobody will be there, Fiona told herself, but she tried the door and found it unlocked.

“Hello?” She stepped into a reception room. No one was there. The computer screen was dark, and only a little indirect light came in through the frosted glass from the hallway and from another corridor. “Anybody here?”

A slender woman with close-cropped red hair appeared in the far hallway. “Yes?”

Fiona relaxed a little. “Oh, hi, Ms Carver.”

Her psychology teacher smiled back at her. “Hello, Fiona. Congratulations on your midterm. Very good essay.”

“Thanks. Uh.”

“Can I help you?”

Fiona felt embarrassed and shrugged. “I was just wondering, uh, if I might make an appointment, you know, to see a counselor or something.”

“You can see me,” Ms Carver said. “I do a lot of the counseling. Got time right now?”

“Sure,” Fiona said, nodding.

“Come on back. You’re lucky. I actually just came in this afternoon to catch up on some correspondence. You just caught me.”

Ms Carver’s office was a little larger than normal, with a window looking out over the quad toward the library. The walls had been painted a soothing light blue, and one whole wall sported diplomas and awards. No couch, but Ms Carver settled Fiona into a comfortable armchair, and then she went around to sit behind her desk. “Now what’s bothering you?”

“Is it that obvious?”

Ms Carver laughed. “Well, when you come to see a counselor, usually there’s something going on. We can talk here. It’s private, and nothing goes beyond this office.”

“Okay. I guess I am a little bothered.” Fiona didn’t know how to begin, but Ms. Carver seemed so sympathetic that before she knew it, her whole life history spilled out: how her mom had died, how she felt a little repelled by the idea of sex, how her new step-mom was so much younger than her dad, and how he was always hugging her and kissing her, and. . . “and, uh,” Fiona finished, “I just think about sex so much lately. Even doing, you know, sexy things to—to other girls.” She swallowed a sob. “I don’t want to be l—like that. You know.”

Ms Carver handed her a small box of tissues. “How old are you, Fiona?”

“Nineteen.”

“And you’ve never had a sexual experience with a boy?”

Fiona shook her head. “Nobody ever seemed interested in me.”

“Mm. Well, don’t be so upset, dear. First, I think you’re just finding yourself free for the first time, really. Free from your family, free from your past. Fiona, sex is a part of life. It isn’t something to be afraid of. Naturally, you’re curious. And since you haven’t ever been with a boy, I can understand why you’re a little fearful, too. That’s normal.”

“But I was looking at my roommate when she was naked, and I was getting turned on.”

“Well, St. Incunditas has a shortage of boys, doesn’t it? I think it’s likely just curiosity, Fiona. The act of love is. . . well, it’s intrusive for a woman. Letting another woman tell you about sex, maybe even introduce you to sex, that’s a way to experiment without committing yourself to a male. Sex is a very complex thing, you know. All sorts of feelings get tangled up with it. A boy is apt to become very possessive, very rapidly. With girls, it’s more like playing. Ever been to a sleep-over and talked about sex with your friends?”

“I didn’t have any friends like that,” Fiona confessed.

“There you are. You’re making up for lost time. You’re making good grades, you look like you’re in excellent physical condition, and your body is ready for love, even if your mind isn’t. Don’t worry. Go into town next Saturday. Flirt with a guy or two. I think you’ll find your feelings aren’t as abnormal as you fear.”

“Thanks.” Fiona felt a rush of relief, grateful for the counselor’s calm acceptance of her confessions and for her refusal to criticize or condemn.

“Not at all. I’ll see if I can’t find some brochures and literature to help you understand the changes you’re going through, Fiona. I’d do that for any St. Incunditas girl.”

Fiona felt herself relaxing, sighing with the realization that she had help, that she could call on this understanding, kind woman. They talked a little more, and feeling reassured, Fiona finally left and headed back toward the dorm. The shadows on the lawn had grown long. The autumn sunset would come quickly now.

6

Cindy didn’t come back until nearly ten. She had taken the very last bus of the day, and she walked into the room glowing, a couple of big red plastic shopping bags swinging at her side. “Hi, Fi! You gotta go next time.”

“Was it fun?”

“God, yes!” Cindy kicked off her four-inch heels, plopped down on her bed, and propped her feet up on her desk chair. “Hey, there’s a place called Wally’s where they don’t even check ID’s. I got a really good Margarita there. And there’s a multiplex, six screens, and the center of the town is like a pedestrian mall, all these really wicked little specialty stores and all. And I found the best shop!”

Clad in her short pink pajamas, Fiona lay down on her bed, on her stomach, bending her legs at the knees, her ankles crossed. “Did you—get, well, you know?”

“Get laid?” Cindy asked with a devilish grin. “I’ll’ say!” she reached for one of the bags and started to pull stuff out. She tossed something to Fiona.

“What’s this—euw!” Fiona had picked up the pink object and with a shock realized that it was a rubber, well cock. It had a red twist cap on the bottom, but it definitely was an imitation cock, complete with soft rubber balls.

“It’s a dildo, honey,” Cindy said. “Which means I’m not going to have to use just my fingers to get myself off from now on. There’s this little shop down an alley called AAAdult Inc, with three A’s. It’s a sex shop!” She winked. “And the guy behind the counter is a good-looking Irish son of a bitch named Derrick. Cute black curly hair, the brightest blue eyes, and a really great ass! He gave me an employee discount.”

“Why did he—oh. You, you, uh, did it with him, didn’t you?”

“Twice! In the break room in the back. There’s a sofa back there. He locked the front door and gave me a personal demonstration of a French tickler condom. God, he filled me up!” Cindy dug some more items from her bag. “Here, this is for you.” She flipped a DVD jewel case across to Fiona’s bed.

Fiona picked it up. It had a garish cover, and the title of the DVD was FIRST TIME LOVERS. “What’s this?”

Cindy plopped down on the bed, jouncing Fiona. “A dirty movie! It’s all about guys and girls getting it on for the first time. So it’s a study guide!”

“That’s nasty,” Fiona said, but she couldn’t help giggling. She picked up the dildo again and stared at it. “Is a guy really, you know, shaped like this?”

Cindy caressed the dildo with a critical tilt to her head. “Pretty close, but it’s too straight, really. I mean the real ones have this great little curve, sort of like a banana. Mm, you can ride your clit right over the ridges, and it is sooo good! And the real ones are hot, too, I mean they feel nice and warm inside you. Hey, see if you can get that into your mouth.”

“What? No!”

“Come on, it’ll be good practice. Take it from me, Fi, a guy loves a girl who knows how to go down on him. If you can give good blowjobs, you’ll have every guy you meet eating out of your . . . pussy!”

Fiona looked distastefully at the rubber contraption. It had a realistic bulbous head, tinted a sort of pinky-purple color, with a soft flesh-colored shaft. But it was so big! “I couldn’t!”

“Sure you can,” Cindy said. She bopped up from the bed and took the dildo from Fiona. “Come on, you’ll never learn if you don’t start. Hey, give me the DVD. You’ll see.”

She popped the DVD into the player, brandished the dildo as if it were a baton, and then came back to lie on her stomach next to Fiona as the DVD loaded. The bed was narrow, and Fiona felt the soft touch of Cindy against her arm, hip, and thigh. When the DVD menu appeared on the TV screen, Cindy clicked the remote.

On the screen, a curvaceous blonde, wrapped in a white fur, half-reclined on a white leather sofa. “Hi,” she purred. “This movie is all about the fine art of loving. Watch it and you’ll find ways of enhancing your own sexual pleasure. If you give more to your favorite partner, you’ll be pleasantly surprised at what you get in return. Ready?” She opened the fur wrap, revealing that she was naked underneath, and she began to tweak and tease her nipple. “Let’s watch our first lesson as Rod Harder and Rydia Rong show you the power of seduction.”

Fiona watched, mesmerized. The plot was so simple that it was stupid. A handsome guy met a gorgeous blonde by accident outside a big office building, and the two discovered they had been in elementary school together. To catch up on old times, they went to dinner, and then the guy invited the girl to come to his apartment for a nightcap.

In the apartment. . . the girl clearly had more than a glass of wine on her mind. She kissed the guy on the cheek. Then they kissed passionately, with the camera coming in for an extreme close-up of their pink, gleaming tongues meeting, writhing over each other. “Looks yucky,” Fiona said.

“Hush!” Cindy slapped her on the hip.

Now the guy was kissing the woman’s throat, and she was throwing her head back, moaning. She reached to unbutton her blouse, and he nuzzled lower. As he removed her blouse and unfastened her bra, she unbuttoned his shirt and swept her palms over his muscular chest. Fiona pressed her thighs together and whimpered a little. Now the guy’s lips were on her nipples, sucking, teasing them to rigid erection. She groaned and reached to cuddle his head, running her fingers through his hair.

Fiona bit her lip, imagining a guy kissing and nibbling her breasts like that, imagining the hot smooth touch of lips and tongue. How would it feel to cradle his head, to clench her fingers in his hair—somehow she pictured the imaginary guy as having long hair. Now the woman had pulled the guy’s shirt off, and he had tugged off her skirt. She wore only thin pink panties underneath, so sheer that you could clearly see her slit and the little delta of pubic hair that a Brazilian wax had left above it. Gasping, Fiona watched as the guy slipped his hand inside the panties and began to finger the mound of the actress’ pussy. She moaned and feverishly tore at the guy’s belt.

“Pretty hot,” Cindy said, roguishly caressing the dildo. “Okay, Fi, that’s what a real one looks like.”

Fiona goggled at the man’s member. On screen, it pulsated in the woman’s grasp. As Cindy had mentioned, it had a definite shallow curve, and—and it was fucking huge! “Are they all that big?”

“I wish!” Cindy giggled. “No, these porn guys are hung like stallions.”

“Oh, my God!”

The blonde had taken the guy’s cock in her mouth. Her cheeks bulged, and she closed her eyes and practically hummed as she began to bob her head. The camera picked up the sheen of her saliva on the taut, veined shaft and lingered as her lips conformed to every ridge. She pulled all the way off the guy’s cock, then sensuously, slowly, slowly bent forward again, letting her red lips flow around the big purple head, over the ridge at the base of the head, then over the shaft. Fiona reached to clutch Cindy’s hand. “Relax,” Cindy said, squeezing her hand back. “It’s just a blowjob.”

“What if he—you know, what if he gets so excited that he. . . .”

“Shoots his cum in her mouth? Then she has to make a woman’s great decision. Spit or swallow. Guys love it when you swallow, by the way. Takes a little practice. The stuff doesn’t taste all that great, but—”

“I could never do that!”

Now the blonde on the TV was on her knees before the standing man. The camera roamed around as she enthusiastically pumped the guy’s shaft with her mouth, making lewd smacking sounds. His left hand caressed the man’s right ass cheek, reached around to cuddle his balls. Her right hand pulled and tweaked her own nipples, which were hard and pink now, throbbing with her sexual excitement. Fiona licked her lips.

Something bumped against her cheek, and when she turned her head, she found the impish Cindy was pressing the dildo’s head against her face. Her lips touched the purple tip. Blushing furiously, Fiona parted her lips and gave the rubber tip a little tiny, quick lick with just the tip of her tongue. Cindy pressed the thing a little harder. “Open up.”

“No!” Fiona turned her head away. “Uh, I want to watch the movie.”

Now the guy was doing the girl. He had ripped her thin panties off, and she sprawled on a sofa, her legs spread, grasping her ankles in her hands. Her pussy gaped, all pink and gleaming, and he knelt before her and started to lick her. Cindy held the dildo so that the head was right under Fiona’s nose. “Stop it.”

“Blow me,” Cindy said, making her voice deep. “Come on, show me how much you love me.”

Fiona broke down in giggles. “Oh, John,” she said, “please don’t make me! I’m a virgin.”

“I won’t fuck you if you’ll blow me,” Cindy said, pressing the round helmeted head of the dildo against her lips again.

“Oh, if I must, I must.” Fiona reached to caress the shaft of the dildo, cautiously opened her mouth, and put the rubber cock inside. She sucked hard.

“Don’t do it that way, you goose,” Cindy said. “My God, you’d rupture a blood vessel or something. feel it with your tongue.”

Fiona ran her tongue over the smooth surface. It didn’t taste good, but it wasn’t revolting, either. It filled her mouth, and she found herself salivating. Cautiously, she pumped it in and out a little. On the TV, the man now had two fingers stuck into the woman’s slit, while his tongue flicked and lashed at her clit. She was moving her ass, enthusiastically fucking the guy’s fingers.

“That’s not bad,” Cindy said in little more than a whisper. “Mm, yeah. Now, don’t think you have to deep-throat a guy, take his cock in your mouth all the way up to the balls. Actually, the most sensitive part is the head and that spot right under the glans. That’s the ridgy part that goes almost all the way around. And the slit in the tip. Guys get really excited if you point your tongue and work all around that. That’s where the cum shoots out, too.”

Cindy rolled away, Fiona felt strange and dreamy and a little weird, but incredibly horny, too. She watched as the man in the porno film picked up the woman and impaled her on his cock. He stood up and held her, and she locked her legs around his waist, crossing her ankles above the cleft of his buttocks, and began to pump and they fucked with him standing and embracing her and she clinging to him.

Cindy lay back down again, and Fiona felt her fumbling with her pajama top. She popped the dildo out of her mouth. “Cindy, what are you—oh!”

Cindy was naked.

“Come on,” she said. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Fiona sat up, and Cindy got her top off. She reached to caress Fiona’s aching breasts. “Let me love on you a little,” she said, her voice husky.

“We shouldn’t do this,” Fiona said. She grabbed the remote and switched off the DVD. “No, Cindy.”

Cindy began to rub her own breasts. “Are you a St. Incunditas girl?” she asked in a sharp voice.

Fiona felt incredibly sleepy, as though she were dreaming, not quite awake. “I—-I’m-—”

“Say it,” Cindy cooed. “You’re one of us. I’m a St. Incunditas girl. Say it to me.”

Fiona felt as if she were slipping into a delicious warm bath. “I’m a St. Incunditas. . . girl,” she repeated. She felt Cindy tugging at her pajama bottom and obediently raised herself up to make it easier. The pink flannel shorts peeled down her legs. She kicked them off.

Now she was lying on her back, still feeling strangely as if she were on a cloud, floating, a little drunk. “I’m a St. Incunditas girl,” she murmured. “Oh, yes.”

Because Cindy was lying on top of her, her big boobies pressing against Fiona’s. Fiona ran her hands over Cindy’s smooth, smooth back, down to caress her buttocks, to pull her tight so that their pubic arches pressed together. “Kiss me,” she whispered.

And then Cindy’s mouth came down and her hot lips opened, and Fiona felt her tongue coming into her mouth. She sucked it, swept her own tongue over Cindy’s. She felt incredible. Her whole body was alive, super-sensitive. Her nipples, flattened under the thrust of Cindy’s, could detect every crinkle, every little bump on the other girl’s nipples.

Cindy broke the kiss. “Say it,” she told Fiona.

“I’m a St. Incunditas girl,” murmured Fiona dreamily. Every time she repeated it, she felt more elated, hornier. “And, and I want—I want you to go down on me.” She swallowed. “I want to sixty-six you.”

Cindy laughed. “Close enough,” she said. “Okay, darling, let’s try it one at a time first and just see how it goes.

Ohh, it was good as Cindy moved her mouth down, exploring Fiona’s body the way the man in the DVD had done. Fiona stroked her roommate’s hair as she suckled her nipples, groaned with anticipation as the darting tongue moved lower, over the flat mound of her belly, down the smooth slope of her hairless love mound, and into her slit.

Feeling utterly abandoned, Fiona spread her legs, reached down to pull at her pussy, opening herself to Cindy’s hot tongue. “Yess, yessss.” Her hips twitched into motion, and she found herself fucking Cindy’s tongue, riding it as if it were a soft hot cock. Her clit tingled, and she felt as if a great pressure were building up inside of her, and then, as Cindy expertly flicked her tongue over her clit, Fiona exploded!

She gasped and groaned as release flooded through her, making her arms and legs twitch, taking her breath away. Cindy, grinning, surfaced and kissed her again, deeply, lovingly, and Fiona thought, My God, this is what I taste like, mm, salty and fresh and mm I love it, I love the taste!

Cindy said, “Now me.” She rolled off Fiona and lay on the bed, but with her legs hanging over the edge. She tossed a pillow onto the floor. “It’ll be better if you kneel the first time.”

“Yes,” Fiona heard herself agree in a thick, drunken voice.

“Just do what you’d like me to do to you,” Cindy instructed.

“Yes,” Fiona said again, settling her knees onto the pillow. Now she bent forward, staring at Cindy’s open pussy. The sheathed clit was there, like a pink pearl, and the slit with its frilly lips and folds beckoned her. She bent closer, breathing hard, her lips open, her tongue ready. Closer, and she could smell the intoxicating aroma of Cindy’s musk. Yes, it was good, she wanted a taste, she wanted a lick. Closer still, and she felt the very heat of Cindy, and Fiona imagined her tongue touching that pulsing clit, tasting those salty juices, and she closed her eyes and—

“What is going on here?”

Cindy squealed, twisting away from her, and Fiona’s shocked eyes flew open.

Standing in the doorway was the counselor, Ms Carver.

She did not look pleased.