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Finding Myself at USF Ch. 1

By: TheCyberPoet



We had been friends through-out high school, and unlike her, I had to do a couple years at a local junior college before transferring in to USF. It was like old times to be together again, although there were things that I obviously didn't understand about what she had become -- we were still catching up. Her tale intrigued me, and I hate to admit it, but it first made my heart sing and then my pussy wet and kinda throbby. This is the first portion of that tale...

We had sat down for drinks at the Greenery, a local college bar just off-campus here at USF. It was Wednesday afternoon, and the place wasn't crowded nor empty. Our waitress, Emmaline had just taken our orders, when Yvette, at my prompting (pleading?), started telling her story to me

"My story starts simply enough," she quipped to me, her confidant and best friend. "I had been in college at USF and had done the traditional things -- dancing in Ybor, drinking at various parties and the occasional frat kegger, dating different guys for short periods of time... you know, all the things that were expected of me, both by myself and by my roommates in the dorms.

"I had my share of sex, both the drunken-rowdy type at parties, and after classes with the boys that asked me out on dates -- but not with every boy that asked me out, just some, and only when I was into it..." she fumbled with this, trying to rephrase it, clarify it. Pulling herself together, she continued.

"I mean that I sometimes had plain-jane vanilla sex when I wanted to. Usually nothing to write home about, and many of them just wanted to plant themselves deep and cum quickly without understanding that a girl's pleasure wasn't just a reflection of theirs. But in general, they were as rewarding as I expected them to be. I got what I thought sex should be -- I got what I expected... you know what I mean?"

I canted my head and nodded slightly, but kept a slight smirk on my face, since I only knew second-hand. Such fumblings just had never been my lot in life, and this was one of those times that I really appreciated that fact. I had had a single boyfriend for years before I came here, and although my parents disapproved of his age (7 years older than me), they gave in when they saw how well he treated me (if they only knew how well he treated me when we were in bed! But that's a different story).

Yvette continued... 

"Well, I was visiting the apartment of one of the guys I was dating -- Derrick's -- and his roommate was gone for the summer already, because he was in the English immersion program and didn't have any finals. Derrick said he wanted to take a shower, and asked me to wait... I thought he was taking the shower to be nice and clean for me. Anyway, I told Derrick I'd check my email while he showered and he padded off to the bathroom.

"So I walked into his roommate's room, where I knew the laptop was set-up on the desk, and powered it up, then opened up AOL and went to log in. Just then Derrick walked by the doorway in the nude, his cock dangling in front of him and he called out not to mind him, but he had forgotten his towel. I got distracted because I hadn't seen him nude before -- I think he did it just to taunt me...

"I logged in and opened my mail -- but I didn't recognize any of the sender's addresses, and I was kinda disappointed not to find an email with my final grade from my SocPsych class. I started reading through my emails, many from the same person, someone named Marcus or Marc. As I continued to read what he wrote -- waxing philosophically and intently about the woman he was seeking and what he would do with her -- I got angry that someone would write to me that way. Upset, I closed the email, and went to check one that just arrived titled 'your final grade', thinking it to be my final grade for the only class I didn't have final exams for.

"Imagine my surprise when I opened it and suddenly realized that I had never actually signed into my email -- I was signed into Derrick's roommate's email! That momentary distraction with Derrick walking out nude in front of me had made me forget to switch to guest mode. Embarrassed, I switched over to my own account to find what I had been expecting the whole time, the emails and so forth. Then I realized that I hadn't marked the emails in the other account as still unread -- clumsy of me -- and switched back over again.

"I started highlighting the emails and marking them as unread, when curiosity got the better of me and I started rereading one of the letters this Marc person had written. I still carry a couple of those first ones in my purse -- here, you can read them for yourself..."

She handed me the following:

The Quest for her...

I know she's out there, just waiting to be found, probably not even aware that she needs to be found. I'm so sick of what passes for dating around here. I will find her, and she will be Mine. My darling princess...

For she shall kneel on bended knee,

and I will extract from her every plea.

Holding her close up against me,

I will rock her world and change her views,

make her crave and pay her dues,

and I will have her as Mine,

something to carry her through time,

across the eons and the ages,

written of in so many pages.

I will take her and make her feel loved, as every woman should be, but I will also make her know that she is Mine in the truest sense -- I will own her heart and soul, and her body will be My playground. she will be My wench, My love, My slut, My little girl, My whore, My sophisticated woman, My cunt, My princess... in all senses and overwhelmingly so, she will belong to Me.

I spoke with Professor Marco today and he said that the department chair said that starting fall semester, USF enrollment will be 58% female. I am sure that with over 17,000 female students, she is out there, I just haven't found her yet. Maybe I'm using the wrong forums for My ads... I put a new one up at love@aol, but their censors canned it immediately, as always. At least I still have the AOL web page linked from My profile -- you've seen it, right? http://members.aol.com/thecyberpoet/

I have cyberpoet.net up too, but because it also reflects my work stuff, I have to keep that site on the up and up; I have pages buried inside with My pages on the quest for her, but you can only find them if you already know where they are, since there's no links from the navigation menus.

Gotta run. Did you pass your TOEFL?

=-= Marc 

It stirred something within me, too. I looked at Yvette and raised my eyebrows -- I wanted to know how it continued...

"I moved on to the next one, and the one after that. He was certainly a prodigious writer, and his poetry enchanted me... I started to wonder what HE was like. And that was the beginning of what possessed me."

She handed me another print out, and I read it not once, but twice...

A Ray of Hope

Years gone by, He recalls with a sigh, I had hoped to find her, available and free.

I had searched for my Star, in lands both near and far, to walk that glory road with me.

I had walked the French Rivera and the German Alps, the streets of Amsterdam by Myself,

I had driven from Paris to Dakar, wondering where she was, where you are...

I had strode over the Virginia shores, and the English moors, looking for my Star to adore.

I had posted ads from Budapest to LA, from Auckland to Tampa Bay, hoping for a ray...

of hope.

The years had gone by without regret,

But I continued to know and not forget,

that I simply hadn't found her yet.

And there it lie, for all to see,

plain in it's wording, but it set Me free,

dared I hope, could it be?

that she had finally found Me?

Only time will tell if and when...

but I have a ray of hope again.

=-= M

I started to wonder who he was, too. Finally, I handed it back and suddenly longed for a boyfriend who would right such poetry for me. Yvette picked up where she left off.

"I heard the shower stop running, but I didn't want to stop reading what he had written. I decided to forward a copy of all his emails to my email address... such a naughty girl I am. Then I marked them unread again, and signed back out. There'd be enough time to read them all later and see who this mystery man was. Probably some old fart.

"Derrick came out, toweling his hair dry and with a semi-erection. It was obvious what he had on his mind and normally I would have probably left, but I was in a randy mood. I walked over to him, taking his meat in my hand, and coo'd in his ear... 'Oh, is this for lil' ole me?' He smiled and led me to his bed, where I sucked on him enthusiastically. I could feel my wetness inside my panties and it was quite pleasurable. Derrick reached down and did that classic high school thing where guys tune our breasts like radio dials, and it did nothing for me at all... Normally, I would have left at such a sign of fumbling and lack of knowledge.

"My mind started thinking about this Marc who had written and I imagined that instead of Derrick, I was with this mystery man, sucking his cock, making love to a real man. I guided Derrick down to the bed and raising my hips, removed my panties and raised up my sundress. I had planned on taking the sundress off all the way, but he didn't give me the chance -- he pulled me up and slid himself into me all the way. In my mind, my mystery man was taking me, and I came hard as I felt my insides being filled.

"As I came back down to earth, I stopped Derrick and asked if he was using a condom -- I hate them, but I hate the alternatives worse -- and he looked at me kind of sheepishly as asked if we had to?

'No, not unless you want to continue...' Within seconds he had one from his nightstand and had it on. I guided him back into me and went back to my secret place, where I was again being taken by HIM, not Derrick. Poor Derrick must have thought he was the world's greatest lover, because I was moaning and thrashing about at the end of his cock, but in my mind I was thrashing about at the end of HIS Cock. Derrick came within five minutes and jumped up & dashed back to the shower, as if he were washing away some dirtiness he just couldn't stand.

"I was disappointed that it hadn't last longer, but I knew now that I had to find out more about this mystery man. At first I started touching myself, but then realized I didn't really want to be here any more and grabbed my panties and left quickly while Derrick was still washing. When I got back to my new place at Collegiate Hall (out of the dorms at last!), there was a message waiting from Derrick about what a great time he had and when could he see me again? I erased it from the tape without a second thought.

"Then I locked the door, and took off my clothes. I looked at my body and imagined HIM looking at me, as if to judge whether I was to be HIS star, His princess, his slut... and with that last bit, I started touching myself again, first softly and then with more and more vigor until I went to that special place again, and He was with me."

Emmaline returned with our drinks and the fingerfoods we had ordered and we both kind of fell quiet. Our eyes met across the table and it was as if we were back in 9th grade with a top-secret secret we just couldn't tell anyone else. We both giggled a little, as if it were a joke we were trying to repress, and then our waitress left and we both smiled broadly.

"let's eat -- I'm starved. But I have to know how this continues. It doesn't end here, does it?"

"No. It doesn't end there," Yvette quipped. She took a napkin and placed it on her lap -- or at least I thought so, until she brought it back up soaking wet and laid it on the table, taking fresh ones from the dispenser.

"No, it definitely doesn't end there..."

Finding Myself at USF Ch. 2



Having been enchanted by her tale of a mysterious man, I tried to push my thoughts back into the present, but knew that I wasn't going to succeed. His email addressed had been burned into my brain: thecyberpoet. So had his poetry.

We ate and I steered the conversation into filling Yvette in on what was happening back at home, what she missed out on.

"Remember Bobby Dunn, the tight end?" I prompted.

"You mean Bobby 'with the tight end' Dunn, the football player?" She quipped. We both laughed uproariously.

I continued, "Yeah, that Bobby. Well, you remember how he was seeing Cindi? It turns out that during that graduation kegger everyone went to, he managed to get Cindi drunk and finally took her virginity in the back of his dad's pick-up camper. She ended up pregnant from that first time and her family insisted that she keep it. They got married in the middle of August, just before she started showing, and he dropped his plans for Emory Riddle to get a job to support the two of them."

Yvette's face lit up with a look of disbelief... "Oh-my-gawd! I can't believe that people can be that stooopiddd about it."

I shot back, with the same disbelief "Yeah, well you're a fine one to talk -- weren't you just telling me that this Derrick wasn't using one either?"

"Once I realized it, I made him stop and use one. But I wasn't thinking straight, or really even there with him for that matter!"

"I doubt Cindi was either -- she was very drunk and giggly before she disappeared at the party, and I know that Bobby had been waiting for over a year to score with her," I explained.

"You'd think that in a year, he would have found the time at least once to buy a box of condoms," Yvette said, and then we both laughed until the seriousness of it struck us -- then we both stopped laughing at the same instant.

Finally, I blurted out a question that had been bugging me. "So what are you using for birth control now? Are you on the pill finally?"

"Finally? I was on the pill all through high school. I think that's why my breasts grew the way they did. I went off them at the end of my first semester here, after I saw how serious AIDS, well, HIV is and what the risk factors were for our age-group. I decided I was going to use condoms anyway, so why bother screwing around with my hormones anymore? You understand what I mean, right Carolina?"

I nodded and thanked God that I hadn't had to get an abortion the one time that my boyfriend accidentally got me pregnant -- the stress of telling my parents was enough to cause the pregnancy to fail.

"Yvette, you know that I got pregnant by Karl, right?"

"Yes, dear. Don't you remember the phone bills and how I came home the next weekend to 'visit'? It wasn't a case of homesickness, like I said. I wanted to be there for you, Carolina."

I turned pale and then blushed. "No, I didn't know. I just thought it was good timing... I guess I was too wrapped up in what was happening to realize that. I really appreciated you being there... God, I feel so stupid for not seeing that before!"

Yvette took a sip of her drink and looked into my eyes, and then spoke, "you know I will always be there for you, right? After all, we're like peas in a pod, two fish in can, two seeds in a joint, we're like this." She crossed her fingers.

I laughed. The reference was to an old, stupid joke about two race horses, Moe and Joe, and I felt better. I also knew that she had just lightened the conversation back up and was amazed at how well she managed to change the entire mood of our conversation.

She continued after a small pause...

"Anyway, to answer your question, no, I'm not any form of birth control, and in my situation, I don't need any, although I am really enjoying my sex life."

She grinned. In my mind, I immediately thought that maybe she had become a lesbian. I mean, after all, two girls can't get each other pregnant, right? Then again, she had always said that she was 'strictly dickly'. Two years is a long time at our age...

Emmaline, our waitress, came over again to check on us and to get us to ring out, since she was getting ready to clock out from her shift. I got out my purse, but Yvette beat me to it and took out a credit card which she handed Emmaline. The waitress turned and left to go ring it all up.

I asked, "should I at least get the tip?"

"Don't worry about it, it's taken care of already. Actually, our whole bill is already taken care of."

Another server stopped by and introduced herself as Karen and checked to see if we needed anything. After taking our order for refills on our drinks, she turned and left, too.

"I really feel guilty that you are ruining your credit rating on me, Yvette."

"Don't be. Anyway, I'm not, silly. This is a 'special' card."

"Special? What do you mean, you aren't intended on paying it?" I asked, curiously.

"Yes and No. I don't pay for it, but it will get paid, and I can only use it for certain types of things. I think this is a good place for me to continue with my story of the mystery man."

Just then Emmaline came back and was carrying our drink order, as well as the credit card slip. She put the drinks on the table, put the card and the slip down in front of Yvette, and then -- I think, but I couldn't tell for sure because of the angle -- winked at Yvette. She turned and walked away, and my eyes followed her long flowing hair for a minute, watching her drop her tray on the bar and pick up a jacket, then she waved at us and walked out.

I couldn't put my finger on it, but everything was weird in this surreal way. Way Yvette gay -- and was Emmaline her gay lover? How come she had a credit card that she could use for our meal, but didn't have to pay for it? And who was this mysterious poet? Or for that matter, why didn't she have to sign the credit card receipt? I backed myself into the corner of the bench and the wall, kind of retreating from whatever came next, but found myself leaning forward to hear what she would say.

[NEXT PAGE]

Yvette took out a small folder from her purse and laid it down, then removed a couple pages and closed the folder again. She placed the pages face-down in front of her, taking obvious care not to get them wet in the condensation that had come off our glasses.

"Let's see, where did I leave off? Oh, yes, now I remember. Anyway, after I came back from that special place, I walked to the shower and took a long hot one, then laid back down and took a nap. He was there, in my dreams, standing over my bed, watching me in my sleep with a peaceful smile on His face. I don't remember sleeping that well for eons.

"When I awoke, it was already quite late and it was still finals week here, so I got out the books and started studying for my last two finals, taking notes and reading intently. I did all right at first, but then my tummy rumbled that I was hungry and although I tried to ignore it, it got the best of me. I called 5-star, one of the better local pizza joints, and ordered, then tried to go back to studying, hoping they would deliver quickly. I promised myself a break as soon as the food got here. Back into the books... bla bla bla. Finally, the knock came on the door, and I threw on a robe, grabbed some money and paid him.

"Keeping true on my promise, I stopped studying and plopped down in front of the TV to watch some mind numbing stuff as I started to devour the pizza. I flipped through all the channels once, and then was stuck by the desire to read some more of what He had written. I logged into my AOL account and pulled up the mail I had forwarded to myself earlier -- feeling no longer naughty for doing so, just hungry and curious. Here is the next letter I read."

Yvette turned over the first page so that it was facing me. I let my eyes cast downward to it and started reading and she took another sip of her drink.

Andreas, I refuse to give up, but some days I'm just not as motivated as others. I will find her. I guess you've already gone home for the summer. I hope this note catches you in good spirits, back in Cyprus. The morning sun dawned through the crack of the blind, the shifting rays only serving again to remind, that another night had been spent thinking of the quest, and my steadfast refusal to settle for second best. The need that burns like a fire deep within my skin, and the errant ways that we sometimes follow on whim. Will today be the day, I ask the sun's piercing ray, Will today I be done, hope sparked fore the setting sun, of having found what I seek, or know I not of what I speak? She will be the world to me, cherished in every way, you see, loved in all the roles a woman can take, careful, lest I her soul and spirit I do rape. She will live on a pedestal, but at my feet, again, I ask, is this the day we shall meet? Does she wake, just as I my sleep do take, perhaps moving to the opposite cycle, oh, that would be unrightful... but life. Hmmm... =-= M "He is talented, Yvette."

"Oh, yes He is..."

Her eyes got this far-away look for a moment, and her body shook slightly, then returned to focus on me. I shifted back to the center of the bench, relaxing a bit. I was envious of her collection of his poetry, his thoughts, and then I laughed at myself because I realized these had not been written specifically for her... Or had they, without her knowing?

Yvette, having come out of her reverie, continued...

"With each word that He wrote, it just drew me deeper into Him, into the curiosity and... well, I guess longing would be the right word... to be the woman He speaks of in His writings. I pulled His profile and checked for a web page, and low-and-behold, there was one, but it wasn't the same as what He had written before. It even had a picture of him, his eyes piercing directly into mine, intently looking deep into my soul, shedding away any pretenses of who I like to think I am, and seeing the real me. His wording there was the same way, almost as if the words had been formed to reassure me that He was real, attainable. I refused to believe that He was what I saw, yet I knew even then that He was exactly what He claimed to be.

"Sitting there, staring at Him, His gaze meeting mine, I was drawn into him, and I suddenly came. I don't know why, and I have never done that before without any physical stimulation, but a small orgasm ripped right through the core of my being -- I swore that I felt Him standing behind me, His breath on the nape of my neck. Maybe it was from being so tired and stressed about my exams. Or perhaps it was something they put in the pizza by accident. Or maybe it was something that my animal-brain understood that I didn't consciously comprehend. Either way, it moved me so very deeply, and totally threw me off balance. I quickly looked through my open bedroom door to make sure none of my roommates had seen me, but they were all either asleep or at all night-cram sessions getting ready for their last finals."

Yvette squirmed in her seat and I could see a faint hint of sweat starting to form on her brow. I stopped and looked at her closely for few seconds, almost from a clinical perspective, raising my glass to cover my stare, and I noticed that her nipples threatened to rip through her blouse, and that one of them appeared to be bigger than the other -- or was that a piercing? It just added to my confusion about her, but I was dying to hear a bit more and to read more of His poetry. 

Yvette settled down and started telling me more, with my attention fully devoted to her and her story. I hardly noticed when she waved away the new server.

"I was sitting there, with my chair soaked from my wetness, unable to move for several minutes. Then I got ahold of myself and reached up and killed the power to the monitor. It's almost as if a spell had been broken. I blinked my eyes over and over, in a state of disbelief. I wondered if He knew what just happened, and the chided myself for thinking that. He didn't even know who I was!

"I returned to my studying, but I wasn't able to concentrate at all. His stare kept interrupting me, and I finally gave up and went to bed... only to dream of Him again. This time, He was laying there with me, pulling me up against Him, spooning His body around mine and holding Me closely as I slept."

I closed my eyes and imagined the feeling...

To Be Continued...



Finding Myself at USF Ch. 3



Yvette pulled a long sip from her drink, emptying it, to sooth her parched lips. Had she really cum just from His picture looking at her? I looked down at the email and poetry still lying on the table and decided to look his information up for myself. I hoped it wouldn't be considered a conflict of our friendship -- nah, of course not... it wasn't like I was going to offer myself up to him, I just wanted to check out who this mystery man was and see the picture for myself. Yvette continued speaking...

"The next day I slept in and almost missed my final exam... I could still feel His warmth against me, and I felt so safe, loved, so protected. When I awoke, it was so strange to realize it had been but a dream, and of someone I had never met at that. I quickly showered and ran off to take my finals.

"When I got back, I settled down, and thought about everything. My original plans had been to go home for the summer, as you know..."

I confirmed her statement... "yes, Yvette, I was hoping to see you there."

"Well, I decided that I would dedicate my summer to finding out more about Him, to seeing if He was what I imagined He was, what He appeared to be. After all, stumbling across someone that seemed so... special and different and right -- stumbling across perhaps my Mr. Right deserved some effort, right? I also figured as long as I was staying, I could take a class or two and fulfill that stupid USF rule that requires you have to do at least one summer semester in order to graduate, even if you meet all the other requirements. I called home and told mom that I had to take a course that wasn't being offered except during summer 'c' and that I wouldn't be able to make it home, except perhaps for a week between summer and fall. She seemed heartbroken, but as always, just reassured me that she had faith in me. God, I felt so guilty there for a few minutes -- it almost caused me to change my mind.

"But it didn't, as you know Carolina. I looked at His picture again and reread the words and I knew I wasn't going anywhere. I logged into Oasis and immediately selected two no-brainers, or at least I thought they were no-brainers when I signed up for them -- Tai Chi and Scuba, both in Summer 'A'. If I was staying here and taking classes, I was at least going to take ones that I would enjoy. Anyway, that left me ten days before my next classes started and I planned on using them. And I knew that my classes would all be over by the end of end of June, so I would have another five weeks afterwards to also dedicate to my... quest. Funny, I never thought of it that way before -- His quest, my quest. I was even considering finding Derrick again and seeing if I could get at his roommate's computer some more..."

Yvette shrugged and smiled simultaneously as if to say 'why not?'. The waitress was passing by and Yvette asked for a soda, and asked if I wanted a refill. I accepted graciously, but insisted that I be allowed to pay for this round.

The waitress tsk'd tsk'd at me and smiled, responding "we'll have none of that here from you."

I was dumb-struck. I was taken back to my curiosities about what was going on, but was still unable to figure it out. I was about to ask why I couldn't pay, but the waitress had already walked away. I turned back to Yvette with a weak smile and obvious confusion in my eyes.

Yvette simply ignored it and went on telling her tale.

"You see, Carolina, you simply can't pay the bill here today. Now hush down and enjoy that fact. If you're still hungry, order anything you want. Meanwhile, back at the ranch... I filed all the homework and class notes into my filing cabinet, and collected some clothes to do laundry. I called Derrick and asked him if I could use his washer and dryer, as mine was -- and I fabricated every word of this -- broken. He seemed pleased, thinking that it was an excuse for me to climb back into bed with him, and immediately said 'sure, I have some stuff to do now, how's tonight at seven?' Then I also told him that I was seeing someone now, and that it was very unlikely that we would get back together for another roll in the hay until I was single again, but could I come over and do the laundry now? His ego somewhat deflated, he said yes, if I hurried, he would let me in and I could do my laundry while he was out. Jackpot!

"I grabbed the dirty clothes hamper, which was overflowing with clothes because I didn't take the time to do them while I was studying for my finals, and drove over there. When I got there, he was sitting on his porch, tying his shoes. I felt kind of sorry for him and gave him a hug and told him what a sweetie he was and that I really appreciated it -- well, I did, but not for the obvious reasons -- and that maybe if I became single again, he would honor me with his body again. His smile threatened to crack his face. He couldn't speak properly, being so tongue-tied, and then got some control over himself and blurted out 'bye, I'll be back around 6:45. If you leave before then, just lock the door behind you.' His smile refused to dissipate.

"I started a load of laundry, and went in and turned on his roommate's computer. Where before I had accidentally logged in as Andreas, this time I did it knowingly and immediately got a message that someone was already logged into this AOL account. I was downtrodden at the prospect. Then I remembered Andreas complaining about the per-minute rates he had to pay to log-in from home and realized that he probably wouldn't stay on for very long. I jotted down his screen names from the sign-on screen and then logged into my own account and added them to a new buddy list. That way I could tell as soon as he was logged out... Oh, I felt so sly and devilish.

"The minutes churned by and I IM'd you when I saw you pop in. I had opened His profile and web page again, almost as if thinking that it wouldn't be there any more, having been just a dream. What if He left for the summer? Shit, then my entire plan would be moot. As it sunk in, I felt myself wanting to sob, feeling like an idiot. You and I IM'd for quite some time, and then when I saw Andreas log out of his account, I immediately told you that I had to go -- well, it was true, kinda."

Yvette studied my face to see if I was mad, but I was so engrossed in her story that it didn't really register that maybe I should be mad. Anyway, we were best buds.

"Yvette, I understand about curiosity about Him, and it's not a big deal that you said you had to go... I'm just as curious now as you were then. Tell me, did you meet him -- are you two dating, or is He still available?"

I suddenly was overwhelmed with the thought that He might not have found what He was looking for in her and that's why she turned Lesbo... Not that I knew she had, but that's what I was thinking. My mind was trying to fit the little pieces together to form a bigger picture.

"Carolina, are you thinking of giving yourself to Him already? You little slut..."

She smiled at me in a way that told me it was ok to think this way, and we both started laughing again. The waitress brought over the drinks, and set them down without saying a word, then left. I was kind of curious as to why Yvette has switched to soda.

"You know me, Yvette, just a slut and tramp and a hussy... well, not yet, but I can have daydreams, right?"

We both laughed even harder because she knew that I had (except for a couple parties in my sophomore year in high school) only been with my boyfriend (ex-boyfriend) up to now. I could hardly be called a slut. Perhaps a timid non-virgin.

I continued, "why the switch to soda? Loosing your ability to hold your liquor as you get older?"

"Carolina, I should slap you for that remark. I have to drive later and I want to be clear-headed then. Anyway, I hold my liquor just like any other French girl -- by the ears..." She smiled.

It took me a second to get it, but then I gagged on my drink as I started laughing too hard. It seems that I'm always setting up the jokes and she's always hitting me with the punch lines... I patted my shirt down with paper napkins from the dispenser and felt dumb for wetting it. She continued onward.

"So I logged back in as Andreas and immediately noticed that he had no mail -- I was mad at him for not leaving it for me to read, to devour. I sat there and pouted for 30 seconds or so, and then realized that there was probably a copy of it under the old mail tab. I clicked, and ta-da, there it was -- and not just what M had written today, but a week's worth going back. I was like a starving Ethiopian in a candy factory.

"I forwarded each one of them to my account, lest Derrick come back unexpectedly early, and then heard the buzzer on the washer go off as the load finished. I padded out and threw the clothes in the dryer and started another load -- just to give me an excuse and more time. Then I sat down again and started to read."

She turned over the other page that had been lying face down on the table for so long. I had been dying to reach out and grab it and read it the whole time, but hadn't, knowing this was all part of her tale. Obviously Yvette wouldn't have taken it out if she didn't want me to read it before we left, so I had waited.

=================================
A TWO PAGE POEM OF LOVE AND LUST

Loins, rising and falling,
as lust consumes all,
the feel of your mouth,
the places your hair cares to fall.
The touch of your skin to Mine,
could anything else be so fine?
I taste your neck, at the nape,
ready to My clothing foresake,
as my hands reach for your breasts,
and our breathing gives to shortness of breath.
Your eyes closed,
your teeth biting the sheets,
as I slowly kiss my way up,
starting at your feet...
I feel the wamrth of your skin,
so fine and so soft,
as we feel our yearning,
bearing us aloft...
Closing My eyes,
I touch My lips to your heat,
shuttering, moaning,
you dare not retreat,
as the intensity mounts.
It feels so good...
I taste you softly,
licking your hood.
Rising to the occassion,
my mouth proceeds to crawl,
coming up your body,
you realize that's not all...
Softly, I push myself into you,
as you have so preciously asked Me to do,
and take you in my arms.
In the back of our heads ring alarms,
as the primordial beast takes control,
and exacts from our bodies it's precious toll.
Flexing, gasping, clawing for grip,
biting, touching, you begin to slip --
over that edge of reality; such sensations,
felling the heat radiating from our minstrations.
And then the shuddering passes through both of us,
having fed the carnal beast, consumed with lust.
Afterwards, we lay quietly and kiss,
having conceived this, perfect bliss.
Holding each other, against the on-coming night...
For a change, because we're together, everything is all right.
And on the wind's gentle breeze,
you hear, with weak and bent knees,
the words come wafting... "I love you,"
and you know deep down, that I do...
Holding each other so gently, we fall into a deep sleep,
and occasionally, I awake,
to take but a peek,
of the precious love that I value,
oft more than life itself,
for her love has made Me,
weathier than weath
of diamond or gold or money could every buy,
for she is mine, and I am her guy...
We belong together,
as a pair,
and each of Us longs,
when the other's not there...
When she walked into my life,
I had thought I had forgotten how to give in,
to the emotions that leave Us so vulnerable...
Is she out there waiting for Me?
=-= The CyberPoet
=================================

The poem had taken me, raped me, used me, left me wet and craving and incredibly horny. I was squirming in my seat, trying to rub myself unobtrusively against my heal, which I had tucked under myself. I had felt His words wrap around me, and His tongue and mouth on my body. I suddenly knew without a doubt that I would give myself to this man if He would have me -- and I tried to pretend that of course, that only applies if Yvette didn't already have him permanently -- but I knew that if He wanted me, I would ignore my loyalties to Yvette and give myself to him willingly, freely. God forgive me, but I have sinned in the most wicked of ways against my sister this day.

Yvette's eyes had been watching my reactions the whole time and saw exactly what the poem had done to me. My nipples were raging against my shirt and the back of my skirt was soaked. I couldn't think straight. Almost as if calling my out of my daze, she continued...

"Carolina, oh, Karri (my nickname), are you back with me yet?"

"Uuummmm..." That was the best I could manage.

"Well, the poem left me exactly the same way. I stripped down my clothes right there and proceeded to close my eyes and imagine Him with me, and I came again the first instant I touched myself. Now I was in heat and realized that never had a man touched me like this, so deep and yet so gentle, and without ever setting his skin to mine. I craved Him so badly, as you obviously do now..."

And then she stood up and took my hand, helping me up. She looked down, then stood behind me and leaned over my ear, whispering quietly, "just walk out as best you can, and I'll be right behind you to cover up that wet spot."

She put her hands on my hips and guided me out to the car, opened the door and set me down in the passenger seat. I was still in a daze, still horny beyond belief. She looked down at me, then her eyes went wide and she quickly said, "Wait here. We forgot our purses inside. I'll go get them."

And then she was gone and I was alone and wet and troubled -- who was He? I closed my eyes and my fingers found my center and I touched myself, gone from this place, totally oblivious to the world, and came. And came. And came again. I like to tell myself that the alcohol had loosened up my inhibitions and made me forget reality. I turned my head when I heard the car door open, and Yvette slipped into the driver's seat, looking at me. Then I realized that we had an audience watching us, watching me. A couple frat boys just standing, staring at me -- they must have been there when I was touching myself. I turned as red as I have ever been, and felt the flush pass through my entire body. As I reached down to pull my skirt down to a decent, respectable position, Yvette's hand reached out to my pussy and pushed against it. I came again, startled and suddenly uncomfortable with this development. She removed her hand and I saw that she had a wad of napkins in it.

"I just wanted to save my interior and you were too far gone to do it yourself without leaking all over," she quipped.

She pulled out and suddenly we were in traffic. I was still in my daze, and I realized she was right -- I was too far gone to turn back. I had to meet Him, seek Him out, give Myself to his company, if not outright to Him.



Finding Myself at USF Ch. 4



If you have not done so, please read the first three parts rather than attempting to pick up the tale in the middle.

* * * * *

As we sped out of the parking lot and into traffic, my head spun. I couldn't believe that I had just masturbated in front of a couple frat boys in a parking lot! I continued to blush and tried to sink down into the passenger seat as far as I could, as if to pretend that I simply didn't exist -- that I hadn't just done that.

"Karri, be proud -- you probably just made both of them happy as hell. You are quite lovely."

My mind darted back to that disturbing thought -- was she, is she, a lesbian now? Unsure of how to respond, I started to open my mouth and then closed it again. Two or three times. And I resumed blushing...

"But, Yvette, what if I see them on campus? What if one of them is in one of my classes? Then what do I do? Everyone will think I'm a slut and shameless one at that!"

Yvette placed her arm on my shoulder and replied, "You worry too much. This isn't high school, this is a major university. There are some thirty-four thousand students here. And they come in all colors, all personality types, et cetera. Anyway, if I know the boys around here, hearing that story will just make them ask you out more often, some hoping to get lucky that night, and others hoping to get lucky enough to date a girl who is that wild on a regular basis -- you'll have your choice among them."

But I didn't want them -- I wanted Him! The one who wrote the poetry. I knew He brought me to be like this, not some fumbling undergrad. I wanted to feel His power over me in person...

"Yeah, thanks Yvette. So everyone will want to date the slut."

"Carolina, will you just chill out. The semester hasn't even started yet. For all you know, you'll never see those boys again, although I suspect they'll be standing in front of the Greenery for weeks hoping, praying for another show."

We both laughed at that thought. Again, she had lightened the mood so easily. I was so envious of her self-confidence, her demeanor. Was she putting a play on me, in some lesbian way that I didn't understand? I was too tipsy to really contemplate it for more than a second. So I asked the obvious question instead...

"Where are we going?"

"Well, first, to get you a shower and a change of clothes -- I can't take you in public like that."

I giggled. "OK"

Within minutes, we had pulled up in front of her (our!) building. I looked around to make sure that no one was about, but the place was still deserted with twelve days left before fall semester started. I tried to walk as dignified as I could to the stairs, but it was a kind of embarrassing even with no one about -- I could hear myself squishing and felt my juiciness start to run down my thigh towards my knee. I dashed forward and let myself into my place.

I had tried to get a slot as her roommate, but her existing roommates hadn't moved out, so I settled with a room in the next apartment over. Our bedrooms were backed up against each other, and at the end of the month, when her lease was over, she would be moving into a bedroom in my (our) apartment, if there was still one available. The jerks down in the rental office wouldn't let her simply move now, insisting that she wait until the lease was over. I flashed back to having to convince my parents that living off campus was both cheaper and better than living in the dorms, better in that Yvette would be right there to look out for me and I'd feel safe as a result. I had just arrived last night, and she had helped me unpack my clothes, making comments about how we would have to go shopping to get me a new wardrobe suitable for Florida's weather. I had been so looking forward to that, but now I was unsure, wondering if it was just an excuse for my lesbo friend.

I turned to Yvette and flat-out asked her.

"Yve, are you a lesbian now?"

She started laughing so hard that I had to laugh with her. Then she realized that the question was serious, and quieted down.

"Carolina, look at me."

My gaze met hers, and I knew that she was way-serious at this instant. She looked down at my wetness leaking down my leg, and I think she guessed that I was effectively asking her to be with me -- I wasn't, but maybe she misinterpreted it that way.

"No, I am not a lesbian. I do not prefer the company of women over the company of men in my bed, sexually or otherwise. But if you're asking because you're curious about being with me, I must say that I am very, very flattered, but I am not ready to be with you or any other woman at this instant."

Then she winked at me, and added, "but I promise that if I do become a lesbian, you'll be the first to know."

I smiled awkwardly. I should have never opened my stupid mouth. I felt so uncomfortable at that instant.

"It's just... Oh, I don't know, I thought that maybe... I wasn't implying that I wanted to, you know... let's just drop it. Best buds, right?"

"Yes, Karri, I want to be best buds as always. Two peas in a pod, two fish in a can, two seeds in a joint, we're like this," She crossed her fingers and continued, "It's cool, if you want to talk about it, I don't mind. I don't think the way I used to in high school -- it's not gross or dementedly perverse the way it used to be; there's a lot of lesbians and fags at the school, or at least people who are trying it on for size to see if it's right for them. Actually, I'm friends with a number of them and I think they're cooler than most people because they are trying to find themselves, their likes and dislikes, instead of just accepting themselves as what they were in their teen years."

I gave her a hug, sniffling a bit because she was trying to be so understanding and such a good friend. Alcohol in the afternoon will do this to you.

"Yvette, I'm not a lesbian, or bisexual. I haven't even considered it, really. I just thought that maybe you were. Thanks for being such a good friend."

And then it hit me. Not the alcohol -- that was actually starting to wear down. But the feeling of her body against mine, and my very first thoughts that it might be enjoyable to be with a woman. I was still so horny from before and the feel of her warm skin, her hard nipples against me, and -- yes, I thought so -- it was a nipple piercing against me. I got kinda mushy-soft and wanted to kiss her (or Him, if I were in His arms), but stepped back instead.

"I guess I better get cleaned up... I think my make-up ran."

"OK. I'm gonna grab something to drink for us from my place, Karri, and jump in the shower real quick, and I'll be right over."

We hadn't stocked my fridge yet, and I still lived alone, everyone else having moved out of the place during the summer before my arrival. I heard the front door close behind me and walked into my bedroom, slipped out of my clothes -- God, my skirt was soaked through! I took the skirt and placed it in my bathroom sink in cold water, hoping it wouldn't stain, and then turned on the shower before stepping in.

I felt like such a naughty little wench, all wet and slushy. Trying to rinse my pussy, I pointed the showerhead downward and stepped back to let it flow water across my labia. Bad idea... Unlike at home, the water pressure here was higher and it was sufficient to stimulate my clit. The feeling of it pushed me right back into my naughty thoughts. This time they devoured me as I imagined being pushed backwards against Him, his manhood deep in me pressing into my G-spot, as Yvette licked my clit. I could feel Him supporting me, his arms under mine, caressing my breasts. I came in an incredible cascade of feelings and thoughts, and then started to come back to reality, stepping away from the stream. Had I really just allowed myself to go there? I had often wondered what it might be like to be with another woman, and with Yvette being both my best friend and being so sexy-cute, I tended to imagine her as being that woman, but I had never (well, rarely) masturbated to the thought, and had never cum to it before. I was even wetter than before, if that was possible. Suddenly, I was incredibly sober and full aware of where I was.

Yvette came bouncing into the bathroom and sat down on the toilet, asking "are you almost done in there?"

"I just started -- I had to try to figure out what to do about my skirt. I want to hear more about your tale," hoping to take her attention off of me. I certainly wasn't going to admit, best buds or not, what I had been imagining.

"Where was I in the story?"

"You had gone back to what's his name's place and were reading through his roommate's emails."

"Now I remember... I had been reading His letters and masturbating to His writings. God I wanted Him so badly. A friend of Andreas' let himself in to check his email on the laptop and stopped, transfixed, looking at me touching myself. I had my eyes closed and my head tilted back in the chair; I hadn't heard him come in. I guess he knew a good thing when he saw it. The first time I noticed, he was standing behind the chair, naked, and his hands reached around and started touching my breasts. I looked up and moaned, enjoying the touch, imagining it was His. I signed out immediately and then stood and without saying a word, took his face in my hands and started kissing him passionately. I could feel his cock against my stomach, twitching, and I rubbed my skin against it as I continued to kiss him. I guided him to Andreas' bed and pulled him down with me, never releasing the kiss. But I wasn't kissing him, I was kissing the Him in my mind.

"I started grinding my hips against his thigh, my wetness matting down the hairs, imagining that it was His thigh I was grinding against, knowing that it was Him who had done this to me again, touched me without touching me, making me crave so badly. Unfortunately, my visitor couldn't contain his enthusiasm and came all over my stomach. Looking down, he realized what had happened and turned red. I didn't care, I thought it was sweet that I had gotten to him so much, and I was sure I could get another rise from him, but he was now beet red, reaching for his clothes and scrambling out. We had never even spoken a single word, and I have no clue who he was.

"I lay back, frustrated, randy as hell, wishing He would come and take me, ravish me, use me. After all, it was He who had brought me to this place, had led me to my deceit, had left me vulnerable to being taken. I closed my eyes and continued to touch myself. I took the warm cum on me and rubbed it about on my areola, then sucked my fingers clean. I imagined it was His cum on my skin, warm and wet, and came as I envisioned his fingers pushing cupping it and offering it to my mouth.

"lingering in my special place, a fell asleep with Him wrapped around me. I awoke to the buzzing of the dryer that the load was finished. I decided to return home and stuffed all the clothes back the hamper, wet, dry, dirty or clean -- I didn't care, I was ready to leave. After all, I had forwarded it all to my email address."

"Where are we going? I need to know if I need to do my hair."

"You hair is fine for now, Karri. I want to take you shopping to get some clothes and some food & drinks for your refrigerator."

I felt kind of dejected, knowing that Yvette wasn't a lesbian had dampened my perceived chances with Him. I sighed deeply...

To Be Continued...



Finding Myself at USF Ch. 5



I finished rinsing off, and I reached out of the shower for the towel I had left on the rack from this morning. Drawing in it to me, I dried off quickly and then wrapped the towel around myself before stepping out of the shower. I fell odd at doing so, suddenly modest in front of my best friend who had seen me a zillion times in the nude.

"Yvette, are you going to continue you story?" I asked

"When you're ready to go. Hurry up! And, here, I want you to eat this..." 

...and with that, she drew out a banana and handed it to me. I looked at it carefully and then suddenly I got a vision, an intense daydream. Of fucking it, shoving it deep inside me, Him watching me closely as I did it for Him -- perhaps because He insisted, or perhaps because I wanted to tease Him by doing it. Or both... and then I visibly trembled with the naughtiness of it. I suddenly realized that Yvette was watching me closely.

"Karri, the A/C must be set to cold -- you were shivering. Now please eat the banana for me while I go change the setting on the air conditioner." She rose and strolled out towards the living room. 

Suddenly I felt suspicious. Why was it so important that I eat the damn banana? I started examining it for signs of tampering (as if I could tell!), then my suspicion made me ask her about it, trying to keep my voice from breaking as my perverted vision seized me again.

"Why is it so important that I eat this banana?" I kind of yelled out to the other room.

"Because you've been drinking and it will replace the potassium, keeping you from getting a headache and a hangover later."

She smiled wide as she strolled back in, and continued, "It's odd the number of things you learn in a big college that have an impact on your every day life."

Satisfied, I peeled the banana and ate it. Yvette had picked up a brush and was brushing my hair out... just like we used to when we were younger. It was reassuring and I let the naughty thoughts slip away as I suddenly felt real happy to be here, back with my friend. God, I had missed her while she was away! While I was away, I reminded myself.

I finished the banana and set the peel on the bathroom sink. Among other things, I still needed trash cans for my bathroom and bedroom. I checked myself in the mirror as Yvette walked over to my closet and picked out a pair of loose shorts and a zippered blouse out for me to wear. My make-up was pretty much all gone, except for a little bit that remained at the corner of my eyes, which I wiped away with a bit of toilet paper... something else I still needed to get -- thank God that Yvette had some I could borrow when I arrived. 

"Yve, should I do my make-up again?"

"Get your ass in here and get dressed. We need to go before it gets too late in the day. Anyway, with your skin, you know you don't need any make-up. Maybe some sun, but... Now get in here... We have a mission now, one given to us for our sins -- shopping!"

We both giggled at the old joke. I walked in and grabbed the clothes, and was about to go back in the bathroom to change when I realized how silly I was being. I hung the towel on the bathroom door and grabbed a pair of panties from the dresser, the ones that were on top, not really caring which ones I chose. I snuggled them up my hips and then put on the shorts and blouse. A pair of sandals later, I was ready to go. 

"Ready, mission control."

"Roger. Let's do it."

We both smiled and arm in arm passed back out of the apartment. I was feeling good and happy and just plain alive! 

"Yvette, I forgot my purse. Hang on second."

"No you didn't. It's still in the car."

"Oh... yeah." I blushed again, thinking of what happened when we forget them in the Greenery. 

As we climbed in, she started the engine up and smiled at me. 

"Karri, I've been wanting to take you shopping here since I heard that you had decided on USF. Clothes first or food or the rest? The rest first. Hang on..."

"So, what about the rest of the tale -- did you ever meet Him? How long ago is this all taking place?" I tried not to sound to anxious, but I knew I had failed.

"Um... Not so fast... you have no patience!"

She knew she had me hook, line and sinker with the story. I was entranced by the whole tale (as if that wasn't obvious already). I sat back and tried to act disinterested. My curious eyes betrayed me!

"Ok, I'll continue... I had thrown everything back into the hamper and had headed back to the apartment to read through the other messages I had forwarded to myself. I grabbed another shower, getting the California potato chips off me."

I interrupted. "Yve, what are California potato chips?"

She laughed. "It's an expression for men's cum when it dries... especially on something like vinyl, where it can flake off -- those flakes are called 'California potato chips' around here. I guess there's a whole bunch of words that you'll get used to when you've been here for a while."

I thought about it and started laughing really hard, imagining collecting a bunch in a pringles can. She continued. "his/His cum had dried on my skin by the time I got home, so I showered to get it off.

"In the shower, I decided not to compromise myself by going back to Derrick's again; that I would simply get up the nerve to write Him."

My heart sank. Yvette was the type who would be able to bring herself to do something like that. I wouldn't have the nerve to write to a stranger -- what could I possibly say to explain how I knew anything about him?

We pulled into the parking lot at Target and she handed me my purse, and then she grabbed her purse out of the backseat. We walked into the store and she grabbed a shopping cart and guided me towards household goods towards the back of the store. 

"Having gotten the California potato chips off," we both giggled at this, "I sat down and reread what I had already read again. It was obvious that He would represent something different than anyone I had known before. I tried to get up the nerve to write, but after 15 minutes of trying to start the letter, I gave up and started to read another of the messages."

I grabbed a small trash can for the bathroom, and a bigger one for the bedroom. The one for the bathroom was really cute, steel wires meshed in a modern art-deco arrangement; the big one just a typical tall kitchen garbage can. Yvette took them and put them both in the cart, then with her hand at the small of my back, guided me forward.

"The next message was just as charming as the last, and I melted in my chair. I decided to stop and search for anything I could find out about Him beyond what He had written Andreas, beyond what was in His home page. I tried google and dogpile, but I couldn't tell which hits were about Him and which were about other cyberpoets. I spent the rest of the day delving down into whatever I could find and trying to build a profile of this mystery man, almost as if I were an operative working for an intelligence agency. But we'll go into that later... now it's time to devote our attention to shopping."

I huffed. I wanted more... always greedy once my mind got set on something, I wanted more. We continued about the store, picking up and examining everything from pans to pillows. By the time we left, we had gotten a floor lamp, a desk lamp, some plates and glasses, a frying pan, a pot, some silverware, an alarm-clock radio, a cheap telephone, a wall clock, four towels and two wash clothes. 

Yvette had insisted that she knew the perfect place to get the sheets and comforter, and another for the perfect shower curtain -- not to bother looking here for them... After all, this was our mission, and missions are important work that require just the right amount of attention to detail. 

We rang out, loaded the car and headed off to another store I had never heard of, Fine Linens. Maybe they were unique to the southeast. Yvette showed me directly to the damsk sheets...

"What are damsk sheets?" I asked.

"The best sleep you can ever get in a hot climate... or anywhere for that matter. Ever want to feel what a princess sleeps on? This is it, Karri... This is the only place I've found with 400 thread-count damsk sheets."

"Thread count?" My eyebrows arched inquisitively.

"Oh, the number of threads used in each square inch -- the more threads, the finer the weave. Generic department stores carry 150 to 230 thread-count sheets. Places like Linens & Things carry up to 320 count, which is very nice and used by the swanky rich folks in town. But this place carries 400 count, fit for kings and royalty. It's normally impossible to find anymore, and I really think that they are selling old stock that was made fifty to eighty years ago and hidden somewhere like a buried treasure..."

I felt repulsed. "Fifty year old sheets?" 

"They're still brand new, and I don't know of any place that still makes 400 count damsk sheets anymore, so they could easily be 50 years old. Hell, some of mine are older than that -- handed down from my great grandmother when she died. Then I stumbled across this place and sent great grandma's to my mother. Among other things, you can virtually boil these, which means no stains and they just get softer with each washing. But you should iron them when you wash them," Yvette explained.

"Sheets that I have to iron? What century are you living in, Yvette?"

"Here, feel this. Imagine being swathed in this fabric, in pure white, when you wake, clean, soft, impeccable. Have I ever steered you wrong, Caroline?"

I knew as soon as I touched them I had to have them. She was right. Visions of being a princess floated in my head and I realized that I would never want to get out of bed again... Then I imagined sex in these sheets and the floodgates opened again. I was wet and heady, and I knew it. 

"Yvette, I will leave this to you, since you obviously know so much about it," I said, trying to cover up the sudden head rush of thoughts that were overwhelming me.

Yvette selected four sheets, four pillow cases and two comforter covers, plus two huge (huge!) feather pillows and a very light down comforter that was as light as the proverbial feather. 

"Do these need to be washed before use?" Yvette asked the matron who obviously owned the small store.

"The damsk sheets and cases are already freshly washed and pressed... We take care of that regularly. You might want to throw the pillows and comforter into a dryer for a few minutes on medium-high just to freshen them up," the matron responded, wrapping up the purchases and ringing us out.

If I hadn't been so taken with my thoughts, I would have fainted dead away when I handed my credit card over -- the total was outrageous, bordering on the ridiculous. As it was, I would notice later and get very mad at myself for letting her talk me into it... and then forgive her while luxuriating in this heavenly experience that was now my bed.

By the time we got to our next stop, dusk was coming on quickly. We entered the Pier One close-out store, where we obtained a short end-tabled to use as a night stand, and something akin to an old pirate chest with a secret bottom drawer to put at the foot of the bed. My mind was still afloat with the ideas of being a princess on a bed of royalty waiting for my prince to come and take me -- not take me away, but take me, in the most blatantly carnal of ways. As we drove home, Yvette pointed out the time...


"Sorry, Karri, clothes shopping will have to wait for tomorrow."

"I have orientation tomorrow, Yvette."

"Oh, I'm sorry. It's not like it used to be, where they actually showed you around campus. What time is your orientation?"

"I have to be at the Marshall Events Center at 11:15 am, but I have to pay for orientation first at the orientation office, where ever that is. I'm allowed to bring a guest, want to hang with me?" I was happy to be around Yvette again, like old times.

"I'll tell you what -- I'll take you over to campus tomorrow morning, get you to the orientation office and then to the auditorium, and then I'll duck out and catch back up with you when the orientation lectures are over. Let me make a call and try to reset some plans."

She fished out her cell phone and obviously speed-dialed. She spoke quietly, but with some urgency.

"Hey, needed to inform you of a mandatory change of plans on my end. 11:35 at the UC would work. Let me know. [unintelligible]."

She hung up. I looked at her.

"It should be fine, Caroline. No worries..."

I shrugged. "Yvette, you don't have to change you plans because of lil' old me."

"Stop that Karri. I know what it means to get lost like a cog in the wheels here. The school is huge and imposing and there are so many stupid run-arounds and rules and loopholes. Say, what did you put on your application as your native language?"

"Huh?"

"What did you put on your application as your native language?"

"English, of course. Why, Yvette?"

"We'll have to get that changed. I think you grew up speaking something else at home, oh, Mongolian now. Or Hungarian."

I felt puzzled. This was ruining my revere. "What the hell are you babbling about?" 

"Well, if you claim your native language isn't English, then you can take the Test of English as a Foreign Language -- TOEFL for short -- instead of taking a mandatory two semesters of a foreign language. Two and half hours of a fairly straight-forward English test verses a year of some language. It's one of those loopholes I was talking about." 

She smiled wide. And I got it. Damn... I'm glad I have a friend like her... loopholes...

We pulled into the complex again, and carried the stuff upstairs in three trips. Yvette threw the comforter in the dryer for five minutes, while I started unpacking everything. She sent me out to get the comforter and throw the pillows into the dryer when her cell phone rang. I looked at her, curious, but she just flashed her eyes towards the door and the dryer. I understood and walked with the pillows.

When I walked back in, I heard the very tail end of the conversation. 

"...appreciates it greatly." 

I was confused again. That sounded third-person to me, which means that she must have been saying that I appreciated something greatly. What was it that I appreciated greatly? Maybe her help. 

She hung up and looked at me, smiling. "I don't know about you, but a day of shopping sure has left me famished, but also tired. What do you say we order a pizza and then hit the sack early?"

I heard my stomach grumble at the thought of food and it wiped my confusion away temporarily. Not living at home any more meant not having dinner ready automatically each night. "That sounds great."

Yvette called for pizza while I set-up the alarm clock, setting the time. When she got off the phone, she showed me how to properly cover the pillows and comforter, a feat that sounds simpler than it was. Together we covered the bed in those luxurious sheets. I lay down on the bed and wished that we hadn't ordered pizza, that I could simply ask Yvette to leave and go back to my princess fantasy... in private.

We spent the next half hour arranging and then rearranging things, until everything fit perfectly. I was quite pleased with what we got, although I realized that what I really needed...

"Say, Yvette, what this room really needs is a love seat -- a couch would be too big -- or perhaps one of those one-armed chaise thingees, like the old French homes had..."

She scanned the room real quickly and then nodded in agreement. "I know where we can get the love seat cheaply, but I'm not sure about a proper chaise lounge. And you need a ceiling fan, too. They'll have to wait for a couple days anyway... groceries and clothes first. I feel bad that we didn't get you at least another outfit for tomorrow."

"Yvette, I have clothes! It's not like I showed up here naked and bare."

She smiled at that comment, almost knowingly. A knock on the door turned out to be the pizza man, but then again, I had no reason to believe that it would be anyone else, right? It's not like HE would simply show up at my door, uninvited, unexpected, and sweep me away... Well, a girl can have fantasies right?

We ate like a couple of ravenous wolves at first, quenching our hungers, and then I told her of more of the friends and schoolmates we had had at home -- what perils and adventures had happened to them, mostly gossip and second hand tales, but it was a nice conversation and helped keep my fantasies at bay for the moment.

After most of the pizza was gone, Yvette stood up.

"You know Karri, I feel bad leaving you all alone here, but I really need to get some sleep. If you want, you can come crash on my couch... I don't think my roommates will hassle you too much, although they can be rather loud when they get home if they've been out partying."

I knew that I wanted to be alone but didn't want to be too obvious. "You go ahead, I need to get to sleep too, and I'm not giving up my first chance to sleep in this heavenly bed."

We both giggled, then hugged and she went back to her place. I made sure I locked the door behind her.

I got undressed and then set about finding some stations on the alarm clock's radio. I found just what I wanted -- something elegant and almost ethereal playing on a weak station, turned it down a bit, and then sank into my bed... 

I let the fantasy wash over me again, in full strength... HE was there, my prince, and as my fingers roamed, my skin felt the cool smoothness of the sheets... God, I was so wet. I couldn't recall ever being that stimulated all day... I gave into my needs, my desires and somewhere in between the lust and the night, I fell asleep. And like it had been for Yvette, He was there, holding me to Him.

To be Continued...



Finding Myself at USF Ch. 6



Somewhere in the middle of the night, I awoke screaming from my dreams... But it wasn't a scream of fear or a scream of panic; it was the screaming from a wet dream, a dream of body-wracking, mind-blowing orgasm (orgasms?). I lay there panting, at first worried that my parents might have heard, and then I realized that I was all alone in my new place. The radio was still playing, but the ethereal music that had been on earlier had been replaced with something darker, stronger, heavier, something between blues and techno that was verging on being indescribable. I lay back and closed my eyes again, and let my mind wander over the dream I had just had, trying to summon as many details as I could before it faded from my memory, as dreams are prone to do.

In my dream, I had been a princess-bride of the modern era, the only child of an aristocratic family of good breeding in an age when the nouveau rich tend to overwhelm the media. I was ensconced in my bed, a heavenly bed of damsk and down (the real one about me reinforced the dream, drawing it out more), having settled down for a nap in the mid-afternoon, awaiting the arrival of my prince (the still faceless HIM) to arrive home to the country estate that my father had titled to us upon our wedding. I recalled that my father was displeased by the fact that I had chosen to fall for a rogue, a seeming drake at first, and then pleased by that same rogue's intellect and bearing, and had finally been pleased in the prospect of giving me away to this Man who obviously charmed me and loved me and left me always in high spirits.

The sun arched its' way across the sky as I slept, and then He arrived, striding into the house wearing a long coat (a trench coat? a cape? I am unsure, as it was but a dream) and riding boots. Calling the French maids, of which Yvette was one, He had them take His overcoat, and then kneel and pull off his boots, and finally had them draw a bath for Him. I slept fitfully, ever waiting, but able to see all this in the mind's eye of the dream state. He was rough but cultured beyond compare, in a strange combination that is so very rare. His hands were soft, but His arms and thighs strong, and His face was somewhere between pure rogue and intense confidence. He washed His own hair and body, but called in the maids to wash His back and feet, and to dry His skin when He emerged, clean. Shortly, He pulled them close in a manner akin to a conspiracy and nibbled and touched and then whispered something to them that caused them to giggle and bounce as they ran out.

The minutes passed and I stirred uneasily in my dream-sleep. Slowly, I came to wake in the dream, only to find that my hands had been bound behind my head to a rod of rosewood, which in turn was tied to the posts of the bed, and my feet were shackled and being pulled towards my hips and apart by the French maids. I looked up, first forward and saw the clock, then backwards and saw Him standing over me... He was behind the headboard, gazing down upon me as the covers were drawn back and my form was revealed to Him. His smile warmed me and any fear I might have had at my predicament left. The girls both kneeled, one on each side of the bed, as He continued to rove His eyes over my form. I wanted to speak, but knew instinctively not to, just looked at Him, absorbing His presence, happy that He was there. 

He stepped around the side of the large bed, so large that it seemed to continue on almost forever, and leaned in to me, slowly bringing His lips near my skin. I could feel His breath on my neck, and the warmth radiating from His body coated me in indescribable ways. His hand pushed my face to the side and I felt Him nuzzling my neck, kissing it softly, at times licking at it very lightly. The way my head fell, my eyes locked with those of Yvette kneeling, seeing both her envy and excitement, which only served to reinforce my own lust. Her arms were folded behind her, hand to elbow, mimicking something I had seen in a lifestyle magazine once, causing her breasts to jut out invitingly, and at least in my mind, a bit obscenely, her nipples precariously thrusting past the top of her outfit. I wished I could see her lower half from my vantage point, but then the feeling of His attentions drew me back to the moment and I moaned my first moan. 

His hands softly rubbed across my skin, bringing shivers of anticipation, anticipation of the unknown. His palm slowly dragged across my breast, circling about the aureole but not touching it directly, and my aureole swelled up as the nipple strained. My hips started rotating involuntarily just the slightest bit, and I felt the first feelings of my own growing wetness beginning to be noticeable. Grabbing my hair, He pulled my head back to face Him and kissed me deeply, unexpectedly, drawing my breath away, His tongue deep in my mouth, His eyes staring into mine as He kissed my soul. He knew that pulling on my hair would only serve to intensify my cravings and I moaned into His mouth as His kiss continued. 

Then He drew my head back and proceeded to feast on my neck again, and I closed my eyes, taken by the intensity of Him. I could hear myself crying out in pleasure and moaning. I didn't even notice when the girls untied the wooden rod from the headboard and attached it to another set of ropes, ones connected to a ceiling fixture. Suddenly, I found Him gone, stepping back and I drew in a deep breath of cool air from where once He had been. The girls suddenly were on each side of me, placing their hands under my hips and shoulders, as across the room He started to pull me upright. I look confused and lost for the moment, wishing He had never stopped feasting on my skin. 

My arms traveled over my head, attached to the wooden bar as they were, until the tension started to lift my shoulders from the bed as well. The girls each pushed upward, helping keep the stress off my wrists, and I quickly found that pulling myself erect helped also. Soon, I was standing in the midst of the bed, my legs still spread by the shackles, with my arms pulled over my head to the point of tautness. He continued, and I lifted free of the bed momentarily, during which the French maids pulled my legs further apart with the ropes attached to the shackles. He lowered me back down, my legs now almost three feet apart, my feet flat on the bed but my arms still taunt. I think He would have left me upon my tip-toes, had I not been standing on the soft material of the bed where such a stance would have been unstable. He smiled wickedly at me, and I knew that whatever He wanted, I would be happy to give it to Him; that smile melted me to my core.

The three of them were standing about me on the bed, one girl to each side on the front, and Him directly behind me. He stepped forward, so that I could feel His warm skin touch mine... a moment ago, He had been fully dressed, but then again, I reminded myself, this was but a dream. He grabbed my hair and twirled it about His hand, drawing my head back against His shoulder as He resumed His attack of my tender neck with His lips, teeth, tongue... Resumed His travels over my skin with His hands. I moaned and knew instantly that the nickname I had given Him was so very appropriate -- the Borg. After all, resistance was, indeed, useless. I pressed back against Him, grinding onto His hips involuntarily, wishing He were deep in me already. 

Steadying Himself with His left hand on my hip, He reached forward with His right and pulled each of the naughty frenchmaid-wenches (as I think of them when I am in that state of mind) forward, one at a time. He had reached blindly, and at first had failed to find Yvette's neck, which was what He sought, but instead caught her cleavage. She gasped in a pleasant way and then leaned forward, so that His hand could come up and find her choker. He pulled her into me and I felt her warmth envelope my left side. Then He repeated His reach, pulling Nikki in to me also. I was totally surrounded. The whole time, His lips had never left my neck, and I had only seen what had transpired from that third-person point of view that a dream allows. The girls ran their hands over me, and started kissing my skin as well, and at this point I could feel His manhood swollen against my rear. His hands cupped my breasts, and both Yvette and Nikki took a nipple in their mouths, causing me to moan loudly. For some time, we all seemed frozen in this embrace, me moaning progressively louder, until the freeze was broken by the sensations of the girls' hands traveling up my inner-thighs.

He turned my head to the side and kissed me savagely, as the girls drew their hands to the very top of my thighs. As His kiss continued and I began to feel faint again, each girl bit one of my nipples lightly and simultaneously pulled outward on the very top of my thighs; suddenly I felt His shaft, hard, thick, long, sliding across the outside of my labia... Not into my depths as I might have wished, but directly past, so that it would be sticking out of the front, as if I had a short penis of my very own. By this point, my body's autopilot had taken over from any conscious thought and my hips thrust back and forth, dragging my wantonness across His shaft, back and forth, trying to rub my clit against it hard enough to cum. In the process, I was slowly coating His cock with my wetness, showing Him my desire at a most primitive level. I don't know how long it continued, but it seemed endless, Him hard against me, and I felt Him throb intensely, knowing He was doing it to tease, tempt, torment and torture me.

I pulled back from His kiss and sucked in a deep breath of air. Suddenly I heard myself crying out in a far away voice... "Please Sire, please Master, please!?!?! I am going to cum, please may your slut-slave-princess cum for your pleasure, ppppllllleeeeeaaassseee!???"

He whispered in my ear, albeit a bit loudly (perhaps for the benefit of our French maids), "My darling sweet little slut, you may cum in thirty seconds."

I thought I was going to go insane. Thirty seconds is longer than an eternity at times. I started counting the seconds in my head, a count-down from thirty, although I was doubtful that I would be able to hang onto any semblance of control over my impending orgasm that long.

Each of the wenches took their roaming hand and placed it upon my lower back, at the hip, as He took my head and turned it back to Him. The girls started chanting the count-down out loud, although I never stopped counting in my mind. He resumed kissing me, and then after fifteen seconds, sucked my breath into His lungs and then returned it to me, drew it back again, and again returned it to me. As He did so, the girls forced my hips into a new cadence, a new path, dragging my craving cunt in longer strokes against His wonderfully thick cock. As we reached 2, one our (His?) naughty frenchmaid-wenches, Nikki, moved her hand from my upper-thigh and pushed upwards on His cock, managing to force it deeper into the nestles of my cunt, forcing as much of it into contact with me as possible. With my ever-increasing wetness coating it, it felt like steel coated with cooking oils. I saw it in my mind, steel, chrome, infinitely long and infinitely hard, capable of readily filling me and splitting me apart, were He of mind to.

To say I had an orgasm would be a grossly negligent under-statement. It had been building since I first felt His breath upon me, and I had been at a place where I could easily have cum when His cock at first stroked across my skin. The attentions only drew it out longer, and the sharing of breath made it as intense as it possibly could be. My muscle contractions had already been in progress deep within my slutty little cunt when I started begging to cum; the wait had only intensified the contractions until they took over my entire body. The world dissolved, the universe zoomed though my being, and I reached nirvana. And stayed there. Forever. 

Well, so it had seemed. 

In the real world, my fingers were gently stroking at my labia and clit again, wishing it were real. I returned to concentrating on what came next in the dream....

I hadn't noticed that the wenches had started counting upwards when my orgasm started, but as I started to calm back down, I realized what they must have been doing... 44... 45... 46... I took a deep breath and started to sag against my restraints, only to feel Him and Yvette holding me upright as Nikki released the ropes and started to let me down. Then, at His instruction, they untied me, both hand and foot.

As I returned to the comfort of lying on the bed, I thought "how could I deny this Man anything? I was His, completely and utterly, without restraint, and He knew it. I was His princess, His slut, His wench, His whore, His little girl... and all that was important was that I was His. He had taken me to a place past any place I could go alone, and I knew it was all His doing that I had ever visited it in the first place."

Hell, we were all 'His' and I knew it -- the naughty wenches were almost as much His as I was and they were quite willing to give themselves to Him as much as I was. They were His, just in a different way. And yet that thought made me prouder of Him, not envious or jealous, but happy that He was happy and I realized that what had just happened could have never come to pass without their willingness to be that way for Him, and thus, in some sense, that way for me. I sighed, contentedly tired for the moment, and the message of the sigh was totally clear to all present. 

He stepped from the bed to the floor next to the nearest side (compared to where I was lying), and called the wenches to Him, commanding them to drop their clothes, and then to stay on their feet at His ready. Dream-like, they were instantly shed of all their clothing but for the thigh-high stockings they almost constantly wore. Just as they had stood in front of me while I was tied, they stood in front of Him now, and He thanked each one of them. "Yvette, Nikki, I want to thank you deeply for your help in this matter."

They both giggled happily, and responded "Yes, gladly Sire."

I, too, wanted to thank them, but it was not my place to speak now.

Then He let His hands seek out their shaven mons, which I am sure were quite wet (after all, it was my dream), and kissed each of the wenches fully, in turn. Each of them swooned as His lips and tongue did it's magic, the same magic I had known so recently. His erection was painfully obvious from where I was, still glistening with my juices, and slowly I started to caress myself unconsciously while watching the three of them. 

"Yve, Nikki, I see that you are both quite excited, physically, and obviously randy little submissive sluts from the feel of it. If either of you would prefer to withdraw, you may depart now."

Neither moved backwards, but rather both moved forwards, pressing themselves tighter to Him, their breasts resting again His skin, answering His non-question with their physical non-answers. 

"Then it is a hard choice, but it has to be made." Continuing, in a firmer voice, "Yvette, you will be Mine first, turn around and let your Master gaze upon your buttocks."

Yvette turned around, her back to Him, and lifted her heels from the ground, accenting her delightful ass to Him (and me, as I watched -- it was a wonderful butt she had). 

"Nikki, step in front of this slut I now choose to take. Be ready to take her hands."

He grabbed Yvette's hands by the wrists and raised them above her head, then handed them to Nikki, who held them there. Placing His hands on Yvette's shoulder blades, He pushed her forward, and she bent over, supported in part by Nikki's restraint, until His hand at the back of her head guided her face to Nikki's nipple. Her ass was thrust backwards towards Him, and it was obvious that He liked what He saw. Yvette started to tongue the nipple at her mouth, and I started to become more aware of the dance of my own fingers as I watched, transfixed on the bed. 

Slowly, He drug his cock across Yvette's smooth quim, visibly transferring some of my wetness there, and I watched her flex to try to capture it, hearing her stifled moans about Nikki's nipple. 

"Is this what you want, slave-wench?"

"Please Master!"

"What will you do to have it, naughty little Yvette?"

"Give myself gladly to my Sire?" she answered

His arm swung through the air and landed firmly on her ass with a loud slap. She moaned, and then quickly corrected herself. She loved it when He spanked -- for that matter, she loved it even when He whipped her...

"Anything, everything, whatever YOU command of me as your slave, as your slut, as your concubine, Sire!" The statement was filled with enthusiasm and craving, and I knew from my own experiences that she meant exactly what she said. There was nothing in her statement that was pretentious or corny, just truth based on her desires.

With that, His fingers grabbed her arse, His thumbs pulling on each side of her labia, and pushed Himself deeply into her in a single stroke, causing her to exhale quickly with the size of it, and then gasp in astonishment. 

"Yvette, My nasty little fuck-cunt, touch your clit. I want to feel the contractions about Me as you do. Nikki, pull her up and kiss her as I would kiss you."

I moved to the edge of the bed to improve my vantage point, sitting with my legs spread obscenely, stroking my own engorged clit as I watched Yve reach down and start to diddle herself. Nikki pulled Yvette upwards to kiss her, cradling her face in her hands, and the expression on Yvette's face changed as His cock suddenly started hitting her G-spot with each stroke from the new angle. My attention was drawn to their kiss, and then to His cock when it pulled back far enough to be visible, then back to the wenches' kiss, back and forth.

Yvette broke the kiss and turned to ask, "Please, might your little whore-cunt cum on Your thick (gasp), oh so thick cock, Sire? I would love my Master to use me, to mark me, His slut, as His with His cum..."

He moaned at the words, and redoubled His thrusting. "Cum for Me, My little fuck-cunt, feel that thickness filling your nasty little quim... Cum for Me now!"

She came, gasping, gargling, and then Nikki forced her back into the kiss, stifling her moans, but only slightly. It pushed me over the edge too, and I had another orgasm, although much weaker than my first. 

Finally, he stopped stoking her and just waited, planted deeply in her. He turned to me and smiled, then stepped back. Yvette sank to her knees, kneeling, still shivering and quaking in the aftermath of her orgasm. Nikki seemed unsure of what to do, so she continued to hold Yvette's hands, not having been instructed otherwise. 

He sighed and I could tell that He was hot; His skin was covered with sweat and He was panting a bit. I hoped for Nikki's sake it didn't mean that He was too winded to continue. I looked at the clock and realized that substantially more time had passed than I might have imagined.

"Nikki, you may release My slut's wrists. Yvette, I would be pleased if you to sit Indian style, with your back against the edge of the bed just below Mistress Caroline. Karri, My darling slut-wife, would you please scoot back a bit and lie flat on your back? You may place a pillow under your head, so that you can continue to enjoy the show."

Yvette and I both moved into our assigned positions, wondering what would come (who would cum?) next. I pulled one of the huge feather pillows down to where I was and relaxed into it. His hard-on was faltering, and I knew it was due to the fact that He had over-done it with Yvette, getting slightly overheated. He stepped behind Nikki, and placing His hands on her hips, guided her so that she was straddling Yvette's mouth. Looking at me, He first indicated that I should guide her to my wet cunt, then pushed on her shoulders so that her upper body went forward. As her head came down, I moved a little to help line her up and then guided her mouth to my wetness. Nikki was always a tease to me, and this time was no exception. Her tongue glided softly over my folds, avoiding direct contact with my clit or even the hood, occasionally circling the very outer perimeter of my hood. I was enjoying every second of it.




Finding Myself at USF Ch. 6



"Yvette, My nasty little slut, suck, tuck, lick-fuck and swallow."

"With great pleasure, Sire!"

I saw Nikki's eyes open wide, obviously not comprehending the instruction -- I too was clueless in my dream. He stepped in behind Nikki and let His hands roam across her body. I pushed my hips up a bit to make it easier for Nikki's tongue to do it's task, and pulled her in closer. From between her legs, I could hear slurping sounds mixed with moans from Yvette as she obviously was deep-throating His still engorged but-not-perfectly stiff member. A minute or two of her ministrations would have Him back at attention. 

I watched Nikki's beautiful eyes as she looked up at me, submissively pleading for an explanation, but none was forth-coming. Then I saw her eyes go wide and she seemingly drew herself upward as Yvette guided our Master into Nikki's quim. I leaned up onto my elbows to try to get a better view and saw what was now happening: Yvette was forcing Nikki's hips back and forth onto His flesh as she licked ferociously at Nikki's clit with each pass.

Nikki was starting to yell obscenities... OH, GOD, MASTER, WHY DID YOU MAKE ME FUCKING WAIT TILL THE END? FUCK MY CUNT, FUCK ME LIKE THE SLUT I AM... RAM YOURSELF INTO ME. I AM GOING TO CUM SO HARD ALL OVER YOUR MASSIVE PRICK. LICK ME, YOU WHORE! FUCK... ME... FUCK... ME... FUCK... GOD, I AM GOING TO CUM... CAN I CUM?

It's funny how some of us are moaners and some of us are screamers. 

"Nikki-slut, you can cum when Karri cums... and Karri, you may cum whenever My libidinous little slut makes you feel like it."

I pulled her head back down to my twat, silencing her yells (well, for the most part). His second wind took over and He started pounding her like He had pounded Yvette earlier. I would have been envious of them, having not has His cock within me yet, if I didn't know that in an hour, I could readily tempt Him into more -- or more aptly, He would require it of me. I smiled lewdly at the thought.

Nikki's eyes begged me to cum and her tongue worked it's magic. The teasing took new form, and each time, she guided softly across my clit. She took two fingers and placed them inside me (moan), pushing upward against the pubic bone right behind my clit (louder moan), flexing them (still louder moan from me) as she continued licking softly, just right. It pushed me right over the edge and I started to gyrate on her face, using my hands to keep her in contact with me. I couldn't tell her I was coming through my moaning, but it was obvious and her orgasm was merely seconds in coming after mine. I released her as I started to settle down from mine, and her screams resumed as she continued to cum...  FFFFUUUUUCCCCKKKK MMMMMEEEEE! FUCK ME, FUCK YOUR LITTLE SLUT, GOD YOUR PRICK FEELS SO GOOD!

I locked eyes with her and then whispered "daddy".

She immediately knew what it meant and incorporated it as her own orgasm subsided, pushing Him to the edge almost immediately as what she was saying sank in...  FUCK ME, DADDY, FUCK YOUR NASTY LITTLE GIRL! DADDY, PLEASE, WON'T YOU CREAM IN ME? MY LITTLE GIRL PUSSY WANTS TO TAKE ALL YOUR HOT JISM DEEP IN IT -- SO YVETTE, MY DEAR LICK-SISTER, CAN LICK IT ALL OUT...

I moved up to where Nikki was and started to play with her nipples, looking down between her thighs at what Yvette was doing... Yvette, bless her heart, was licking both of them, back and forth, and had a palm between His balls and anus, adding stimulation to His prostate. Devious wench, she is.

His moans were louder than any of ours, interspersed with phrases... (MOAN) OH GOD YES (MOAN) FUCK ME, DARLING NIKKI, YOU LITTLE SLUT (MOAN)...

Nikki responded in kind; she turned around and flared her eyelashes at Him... OH, DADDY, IT'S SO BIG, I DON'T KNOW IF I CAN TAKE IT ALL! PLEASE DADDY, FILL ME, PLLLLEEEEAASSSSEEEE!

Nikki started to cum again and He went with her, filling her. I loved watching His facial expressions, lost in bliss and lust, as He crested. On the fourth stroke, much to Nikki's dismay, Yvette pulled His cock out and immediately deep-throated it again, taking for herself the later part of His orgasm. His whole body had gone rigid, and He braced himself with His hands firmly on Nikki's waist and hips. I reached out and pinched His nipple, causing Him to involuntarily jerk His hips, only to hear Yvette gurgle a little as she got another shot when she thought it had already finished.

The three of us laid Him down in the bed and proceeded to lick and caress Him, leaving Him in a satisfied stupor... He dismissed the girls with instructions to be thorough in cleaning each other up in a nice 69. As He lay there, I cuddled against Him again; I put my head on His chest and could hear His heart beat, loud and strong... 

And back in the real world, I realized the screaming that I had awoken to was those things Nikki had screamed out. Maybe I was going to turn into a screamer instead of a moaner? Alone, in the middle of the night, I fell back asleep, smiling, happy, content, satisfied, in my own wet-spot. 

©2000, The CyberPoet. 



Finding Myself at USF Ch. 7



I woke up refreshed, but not totally oblivious to the fact that I was lying in one of the biggest wet spots I had ever found myself in... and it was all me, from my dreams. I could feel the wetness that coated my thighs and had found its way down my ass; I even had some on my tummy from where I must have rolled over in the night. Smiling, I looked at the clock and realized I had gotten up before it went off. I wanted to fall back asleep, but the incredible amount of wet stickiness was beginning to annoy me. I sat up and shut off the alarm and radio, then rose and headed for the shower instead of permitting myself more sleep. "Such a naughty little slut you were!" said my inner-voice, and small flashbacks of the dream came to mind, but faded just as quickly.

As I walked into the bathroom, I noticed the banana peal sitting on the counter from yesterday and threw it in the trash can. I congratulated myself for not having even a single trace of a hang-over, and then corrected that statement in my mind, thanking Yvette instead for feeding me the banana. Although I had almost always drank in moderation in the past, I knew that I was prone to hangovers and misery the next day if I did imbibe too much. My inner-voice chimed up "if our wanton performance in the parking lot of the Greenery were any indication, we had had too much. Or perhaps just the right amount?"

I giggled and blushed at the same time...

I took my time in the shower, feeling elated and happy without any solid reason, just happy to be alive. The hot water under pressure felt great on my skin, my scalp, and this time I took care to avoid my clit with the direct stream, as it was a tad overly-sensitive (and frankly, a bit raw) from the night's activities. I stretched my muscles, worked my calves and butt a few toe-ups, luxuriating in the fact that I didn't have to share the hot water with anyone else for a change (so nice to finally be away from home!). Finally, I set about washing myself thoroughly.

I dressed casually, simply, figuring that comfort would outweigh any fashion concerns at orientation, especially since I expected to be surrounded primarily by inbound freshmen who would be unlike to share a class with me.

Looking repeatedly at the clock, I realized I had another hour before I should have woke. I sighed and did what had to be done -- I stripped the bed and took down-comforter's cover off, and started them washing in the washing machine. Fortunately, Yvette had insisted on two sets, and I fetched the other set from the closet and set about recovering the bed. When it came time to recover the comforter, I blanked on what Yvette had shown me the night before, and took matters in my own hands. I stood inside the cover and pulled down comforter up into the cover with me, getting the cover matched to the corners of the comforter... then I realized I couldn't get out without releasing the comforter again. I felt frustrated for a minute, before I solved my mini-dilemma -- I decided to just flop forward onto the bed, still trapped inside. I laughed as I bounced off the mattress, then slinked back out of the covers and matched the corners at the other end, and buttoned it all up. Pleased with myself for having managed, I smiled, and laid it in its' position.

From inside my panties came that tell-tale feeling of gushing warm wetness, and I rushed back to the bathroom to check if I had started my period unexpectedly. I felt both relieved and bothered by the fact that it was just my panties being soaked by more of my juices -- was my subconscious still frolicking with the naughty thoughts just beyond the scope of my attentions? Or was it just residual juices left over from those (shiver) intense dreams that ravaged me through the night?

I changed my panties and put in a pad in case it happened again -- it wouldn't do to walk around all day with a huge wet spot on my shorts, looking for all the world as if I had pee'd myself. Rechecking the clock, I realized I still had forty minutes before I should expect Yve to come bouncing in. Feeling both naughty and devious, I gave into my urges... I pulled out my laptop from its' case in the closet and set it up on the desk, replete with the power cord. Then I dug out my lease packet and quickly flipped through it to find the set-up sheet for network access -- one of the niceties here was that each room was wired for high-speed access, as part of the terms of the lease. I found the page in the back of the stack, with a plastic envelope attached containing a cable. I ripped the bag, removed the cable, and figuring that it had to plug into the network jack, plugged it into the wall. I proceeded to scan the back of my computer to find the match -- there it was, marked with a diamond icon with two hash marks through it. I plugged it in, and set the sheet next to the computer, reading through the instructions quickly while I waited for the unit to boot up.

I quickly changed my configuration to what was specified and launched my AOL account. Boom -- damn, it was fast access, even faster than dad's at home. Smiling to myself, I rubbed my hands together in a nefarious manner, preparing to pull His profile. Open the profile window, type in the screenname... Then I stopped for a second -- what if this was just some elaborate practical joke that Yvette had thought up? What if He didn't exist, or worse yet, existed, but not where she might have led me to believe? I took a deep breath and held it. My finger hit the enter key, activating the request for His profile.

Member Name: The CyberPoet
Location: Tampa, FL; occasionally Germany, or Atlanta
Sex: Male
Marital Status: Unmarried, dating a bit
Hobbies: When once was a spark, 'tis now a flame.
            Where once was a drip, 'tis now a sea.
            When you remember your life, will you wish you could do it over again?
            Or will you fondly remember your time with me?
Computers: In the darkest of dark days,
            the bitter one resents and the religious one prays,
            only the loved one is taken and stays, unafraid
Occupation: Looking for true friendship, deep love, touching the core of life. A good sex life should just be a side benefit of those.
Personal Quote: In the heat of the afternoon, when lovers burn and tourists swoon, 
                I take your hand and say, I think I'd like to be your friend some day. -- CP

Yes, that's Him. Who else would wax poetic in their profile? I followed the link to His homepage, and came across a picture (it must have been the same picture Yvette spoke of), and some more verse, words that seemed to seek me out directly, as did His eyes from that picture, staring at me, staring straight through to my core.

Have you ever just shuddered from the thought of being totally enraptured?
Daydreamed of the fantasy of being taken and stimulated, pushed to the max?
Do you ever get to the point that you are looking at a man,
and you want Him so bad, so very badly, that you want to taste Him,
to feel Him, to hold Him.
And the craving is so strong, you just want to walk up to Him
and say "just take me and make me yours,"
and you get so horny from the thought of Him taking you that you shiver involuntarily
and it makes you know that you want to be wanton and touch this strange Man
and feel His body and be with Him,
and that makes you feel naughty and you know that if you were with Him,
you would become wanton and give in to whatever urges He wanted you to have...

But you also want to be loved and feel a need to have something deeper,
longer, more permanent, to belong,
and you are so very scared to say anything about your desires or fantasies or wishes,
because you might get rejected, or worse, there might be a scene and humiliation,
and you think that even if He would allow you to be with Him,
it might not be serious afterwards, but just something that came and went
and that would hurt too much for words, so you don't say anything,
just imagine it all instead and just stand there quietly, screaming on the inside.

IS THIS YOU?
    I am just like you. I crave, but I fear.
    I want love, but I fear.
    I desire permanence, but I fear.
    I need you in the worst way, but I fear.
    I fear that you will not want me to say what I feel.
    I fear that you will not understand what I offer.
    I fear you will not accept what I mean.
    I fear you will not want us.
    I am just like you.
    I crave, but I fear.
THEN LET ME TAKE YOUR FEARS AWAY.

My heart soared, and suddenly remembered that I was holding my breath -- and gasped. He exists! I looked at His picture again, and imagined all sorts of things, nice things, romantic things, sexual things, perverted things, naughty things... Thank God I was wearing that pad!

I felt my stomach flip-flop and tighten itself into a knot. My mind was flooded with negative thoughts, dark thoughts, with reasoning and consequences. Was He Yvette's, mine to know only from afar? Could life be so cruel as to put Him within my reach, but outside of it at the same time? What if He was gay and the woman He described in the poems I had read were really describing a drag-queen? What if He was available, and yet showed no interest in me? That would be damnation in and of itself. Or if He showed interest and then stopped because of something I said, something I did that didn't appeal to Him, to His sense of right and wrong, to His personal philosophies, to His tastes?

I logged out, seethingly angry for knowing the Yvette had the strength to seek Him out without such misgivings, angry with myself for not having the confidence in myself to... to... to know? I shut down in a fog of despair, and for the first time since I was a little girl, I went to the bed and knelt at its' side -- and prayed. My tears flowed freely as I prayed, unsure if God was listening, unsure if God even existed, unsure of how to pray or what to say... I blabbered onward. Finally, I found some inner-strength and got to my feet with an 'Amen.'

I went to the sink and washed my face, then tried to clear my mind. The buzzer on the washer had gone off to signal its completion, and I occupied myself for the moment with the task at hand, moving the laundry to the dryer.

Inside, my inner-voice spoke to me again...

Of course I was sexy! And if even if I wasn't the absolute sexiest creature on the planet, I sure as damn well was cute! And intelligent. And open-minded. And, well, frankly, a perverted wench waiting to bloom trapped in the body of a college coed, if my dreams were any indication... He wants a princess, a slut, a little girl, a sophisticated woman... And I was all those things -- well, maybe not quite truly sophisticated in a worldly sense, but I would try to be -- sophisticated enough.

The words from His web page came back to me... Let Me take your fears away.

I smiled a smile of hope. The tears were gone, and I realized it was just about time for Yvette to come bouncing in... My stomach unraveled from its' knots, and I realized I was quite incredibly hungry.

I turned on the dryer and unlocked the front door -- almost getting hit in the face as Yve opened the door just a fraction of a second after I unlocked it, before I'd had a chance to withdraw my hand. It startled me immensely.

"Hey, toots, did you sleep good?" she asked.

"Like a dream," I answered, trying not to smirk at the thoughts of the dreams' contents. I definitely wasn't ready to tell her about it.

"Was I right about the sheets and comforter, Caroline?"

"God, were you ever, Yvette... It was so blissful and," I stopped myself before I said something incriminating, but the nasty part of my mind continued to say 'kinky,' but fortunately that voice was not in control of my mouth at the instant.

"Wondrous, I'm sure," she said, finishing up my sentence. The fact that we had been separated for a couple years showed, as she used to be able to finish my sentences perfectly, always knowing exactly what was on my mind.

"Yvette, I don't know about you, but I'm starved and my refrigerator is still empty."

"Well, we can grab a bite of something on the way, or if memory serves me correctly, they now lay out a plate of cookies and brownies at the orientation. But if you're starving, we better get something real." Checking her watch, she continued, "are you ready to go? Oh, and I need your key so I can get a copy made..."

"Let me grab my stuff." 

I picked up my purse and a notebook, double checked the purse to make sure I had some pens in it, then turned back to her and handed her the spare key "Here's the duplicate. OK, let's go."

As we walked down to her car, she handed me two keys. The first she said was for her place (the bronze one), the second (steel?) she needed for me to hold onto just in case she lost her's. I imagined it was to a storage facility or some such and didn't ask, figuring its purpose would be apparent to me with time, or perhaps distracted with my own hunger. I added the keys she had given me onto my key chain.

She drove to a local bagel store, where after ordering, she commenced in some banter with the man behind the counter, who she finally introduced me to. He was a Mediterranean man by the name of Steve, the owner of the establishment. He seemed quite pleased to meet me, and joked affably about the food he was preparing, having supposedly slay the cream cheese beast himself just yesterday afternoon so that it would be fresh for our needs. I grimaced mildly, but kept smiling. While he put the finishing touches on the meal, Yve guided me over to a drink cooler; I grabbed an orange crush, only a little self-conscious that I wasn't drinking a fruit juice instead. Steve handed me my order, in small brown paper bag, and called out "I hope you two pretty ladies have a wonderful day."

As we drove towards the school, it occurred to me that we hadn't paid. "Yvette, stop the car! We have to go back."

"Why, Karri?" she asked as she started to slow down.

"Because I forgot to pay the man..." my mind fumbled for a second, then produced his name. "Neither of us paid Steve for the food."

"Karri, it's already taken care of. Now don't worry your little head about it... Now eat up before you have to get to orientation."

I sat, again confused, as my mind tried to put together the pieces of the jigsaw puzzle that kept cropping up about me. I absentmindedly brought the bagel to my lips and bit off a large bite. Unlike the Greenery, this time there was no credit card or other transaction of any sort. Was Steve just a bit daft, slow, perhaps? No, definitely not -- he wasn't slow, having a certain mannerism about him that even through his joking showed his business sense. I pondered as I chewed...

Maybe Yvette was dating Steve? No, that couldn't be it. He had been a bit too formal to her. My inner voice chimed up -- maybe Yvette had become a 'working girl,' a prostitute or call girl, and he was one of her customers? I couldn't see that. She had daddy's money to fall back on, and quite a bit of it at that. Then again, maybe she was just doing for the kinky sex... She did have the piercing. And it wasn't like I hadn't had the fantasy about being one, pleasing men professionally. Hell, every girl had the fantasy at some point. And if anyone had the gumption to make a fantasy a reality (at least out of those people I knew in my little existence), it would be her.
Or maybe a stripper? It's not like I hadn't had that fantasy either -- hell, she and I used to talk about it when were in high school, wondering what it would be like to have a crowd of adoring men salivating over us...

I opened the orange crush and drank a bit to clear my palette before I spoke. "Yve, do you work in the sex industry?"

"What?!?"

"I said, do you work in the sex industry? are you a stripper? A call girl, a prostitute?"

"No, Caroline, I am not a stripper, and I am most certainly NOT a woman of the night, nor have I ever been. What in the world is up with you? Yesterday, you asked me whether I was a lesbian, and today you ask whether I am a prostitute? What is it with you?"

"It's just that we never seem to pay for food at restaurants. I was wondering why Steve gave me that food without asking for any payment, and all I could think of was that he knew you professionally... in an adult way."

"Oh, Karri, you poor misguided, confused one. I told you not to worry about it. If it will put your mind at ease, you can think of it as my having a professional account, or in laymen's terms, a bar tab, at each of these places. They get paid each month like clockwork."

"Then why didn't you let me pay at the Greenery?" I queried. "It's not like you don't have to pay for it in the end."

"Didn't I let you pay for the pizza last night?" She redirected my attentions, but I didn't figure it out until later...

"Well, yes..."

"Then it's only fair. It was my turn..."

I opened my mouth to protest, especially seeing as she hadn't gotten any food herself -- just a drink, but before I could say anything, she had turned into a parking space and shut off the engine and stepped out of the car. I took another bite of my food, then opened the door and started a balancing act of trying to manage my purse, my notebook, my drink and my food at the same time. Yvette took my notebook, greatly easing my load, and then glanced at her watch and told me to walk with her. She turned and headed towards some of the buildings close by. I started after her, catching up to her in a few steps. The conversation had come to a lull on my part -- I was busy trying to consume my food before we arrived wherever we were going. She walked fairly quickly, occasionally nodding at people we passed, an intent expression on her face that communicated to those we passed very effectively that she was busy and could not be bothered to stop and talk. 

Our path followed a curved sidewalk, then passed through a building's central core, then across a small open expanse to another building that looked as if it had been assembled by someone obsessed with forty-five degree angles on the horizontal surfaces. Ducking through a door that seemed like all the others on the building, she held it open for me, then ushered me down a hallway to yet another unobtrusive door. She guided me into that door, stepped up to the counter and said "We're here to pay for her orientation."

Just don't ever ask me to find the place again, I thought to myself. After giving the girl at the counter the mandatory fee and my social security number, I received a receipt. Yvette then asked the girl a couple questions that made little sense to me ('A&L - cooper hall'? Yes). Yvette guided me back out and back across the path we had just come in on, through first building again, and then directly across a small street to an auditorium. The auditorium's lobby was filled with long folding tables manned by students, each with a clipboard. Yvette handled getting me signed in as I finished up the last of the bagel -- well, what I would permit myself eat of it (it was yummy but filling). I discarded the rest in a trash can.

"OK, Karri, you're all set. Just go inside and find a seat, listen to whatever they have to tell you. I'll catch up with you when it's over."

She handed me my notebook, as well as a welcome packet they had given her, and I got a forlorn look on my face. She shot back an inquiring half-smile.

"What if you're not here? I don't know my way around, and I have no clue how to get back to our complex."

"Don't worry... I promise that you will walk right past me when you're close to the end of your orientation. Anyway, you have my cell phone number memorized, right?"

I just nodded. She continued, "well, if you get done and haven't seen me, just find a phone and call me."




Finding Myself at USF Ch. 7



Then she hugged me and turned to leave. I felt like a little kid going to school for the very first time -- separation anxiety. I teased myself about it, and wandered in to find a seat, using thoughts from my dreams to distract me from the silliness of my feelings. I could feel the wetness leaking out of me again, and I imagined that it was His cum flowing forth from my loins...



Finding Myself at USF Ch. 8



The auditorium had filled up already for the most part and it took me a minute or so to spy a raised empty section behind the crowd. The floor of the auditorium was filled with rows of folding metal chairs, almost all taken already, but the area I headed to in the back had permanent theater seating -- and more importantly, was pretty deserted. It was situated on a rise, and had a short wall in front of it, as if to provide me with barrier from the rest of the crowd. I choose a seat about a third of the way over from the end, adequate to see and hear the speakers, but removed for the few others who sat up there.

I opened my notebook to take notes, should anything important be said, and started going through the welcome packet I had been given at the front. It contained a CD (OASIS - no clue what that is), an application for a parking permit ($125! They must be crazy), a Go Bulls! bumper sticker (dull school colors), a fall semester class schedule list, and some advertising for credit cards, etc. In the back of my mind, the thoughts of last night's dream had turned into a daydream, and it was progressing nicely...

We were laying in the bed, Him flat on the bed with me turned towards Him, my head on His chest as he rested. My leg was thrown across His thigh, my chest pressed to His side and I felt close. He hadn't gone to sleep, but instead held me tightly, one arm wrapped about my back and resting on my ass. Occasionally, he would turn and kiss the top of my head or my forehead softly, making me feel cherished, loved, adored. I turned to look at Him and was pleased by the contented smile on His face. I let my finger slowly draw across His body, pulling through the soft sheen that was drying as we lay there. As it circled His nipple, I saw His cock flinch involuntarily, and it both amused me and tempted me onward. I leaned forward and took His nipple in my mouth, suck, nibbling lightly, licking it fiercely while keeping it trapped between my teeth. Below, His cock twitched with His heartbeat, growing minusculely with each twitch.

"Aye, wench, will you not let a poor man have any rest at all? Are you trying to send Me to an early grave by wearing Me out, lass?"

Then He took my head in His hand and pulled me to His lips, kissing me. In my daydream, my nasty inner-voice had control, as it would have were the situation real. It responded to His kiss as a hungry child begging for food... I thrust my hips forward, grinding myself onto His thigh, craving more as He continued the kiss. When it finally broke, my areola were puffed up fully and my nipples pressed into Him. 

"But, please Sir, I didn't get to feel Your cock in me. You teased and tormented me mercilessly -- it was so wonderful! But it just left me craving move... craving more so badly, I could scream! I want you to take me and mark me as Yours..."

The words were having the desired affect, and His cock thickened and lifted, still throbbing. My hand went to it, to feel the warmth, as I continued to grind my still engorged clit against His muscular thigh.

In the auditorium, I slipped off my shoes as the first speaker took the podium. I tucked one leg under myself, so that I could sit with my pussy pressing against the arch, my clit against the ball of my heal. Oh, how often since I had serendipitously discovered I could do that had I permitted myself to cum that way in study hall, trying to keep quite in a small alcove in the library? The speaker talked of welcoming us to USF (Go Bulls...), and how she was sure the school could offer us plenty of opportunities. I opened the course schedule on my lap, intending to use it as more of a shield than any form of reading material. My eyes glanced down and I realized for the first time how big the school actually was -- the catalog was 167 pages long, with each class listing consuming the equivalent of a single line! My head spun for a second. The speaker droned on, and I went back to Him...

"Oh, My dear little craven wench, were it not that you were irresistible, so that I might find calm."

I batted my eyelashes at Him and He sighed. He had about as much chance of withstanding my advances as chocolate has of staying firm in a fire. He grabbed me by the hairs at the back of my head and pulled me to Him, kissing me more, progressively more insistence with each kiss. I shifted my position so that I was atop of Him, my chest pressed to His, my thighs stretched across Him, and the kiss continued, endlessly as the fingers of His free hand roamed my skin. I shivered and groaned into His mouth, my hips trying to grind my heat against the base of His shaft. I could feel it throbbing and growing yet more erect.

Clapping from the crowd raised me from my reverie for a moment, and a new speaker took the stage, a short black woman in a police uniform. She spoke for a very brief moment in time and then the house lights dimmed and a prerecorded infomercial for safety on campus and the role of the campus police started. They immediately started with talk of date rape and sexual harassment being serious charges... My inner-voice chimed up: you can't rape the willing. And sexual harassment is just flirting to a nice slut like me...

The kiss had devolved us into animals, grabbing at each other, grasping, clawing, grinding. Whatever else was in the world, it was totally blanked out by the intensity of our ever-increasing passions. He pulled me forward, so that my breasts hung before His mouth and slowly started drawing circles about the aerola. He was driving me crazy. "God, You tease, will You please suck it, Master? Bite it even! Something; you're driving me - Your slut - mad with the torture of it."

My hands held His head and I tried to press Him forward into my breast, trying to force it into His talented mouth. His hands found purchase on the underside of my breasts, forcing the sensitive point forwards towards Him -- but not quite enough. I hadn't considered He might stop to respond to me. The muscles in His neck thickened as He pushed backwards just enough to keep me away... It just made the torture worse. I lay my entire weight on His hands, trying to force myself down to His mouth. 

"But, my dear, you wouldn't have it any other way -- this is why you stay with Me, isn't it? Because I do torture you and make you crave, crave so badly..."

I gave in and shouted, "Yes, You cock-sure bastard, You make me feel loved and make crave like a bitch in heat! I am Your's, all Your's, do what you will with me, but please suck my..."

My voice turned into a gurgle of passion as His teeth lightly scraped across my aerola, trapping my nipple, holding it firmly, tugging, then His mouth closed and He sucked. The feelings of surrender raced through my body and through my mind.  yes, He made me crave. And made me feel loved. God, is there really such a man out there, one who can exchange those feelings so quickly, taking me from one plateau to the other?

His hips canted upwards under me and I could feel the fullness of His head atop that long shaft, His gloriously beautiful head starting to part my inner lips. I needed Him in me -- now! I pushed backwards and down, feeling Him slide into me partially, only to be stopped as my breast and aerola stretched, the nipple still trapped in His teeth. Surely I was going mad... 

The lights came back on and the police officer resumed the stage. I bit my lower lip and ground myself down on my heal, wishing that I had something deep inside of me to fill my need. She spoke a bit more about where the main police station was and where the sub-station was, of where to get your bicycle engraved and how the campus police were a real police force, not a security patrol. She then yielded the stage to the head of the security patrols, a lanky young male who I guessed was in his early 20's. I drank the last of my orange crush to wet my lips, which were feeling quite dry probably because all your moisture is leaking out of our cunt, slut.

The security man kept it fairly short. Where ever a blue flashing light was, there was a panic button and a telephone that would contact the police dispatcher -- they were in each parking lot and the lobby of most buildings, among other places. My clit throbbed and my inner-voice told me that I was ready to cum if I wanted it, that my body was ready. Hell, I knew my body was ready -- I knew it so damn well! But not right here, right now. I wanted to be in my daydream... I needed His cock deep in me! 

He continued, saying the security patrols were the ones in golf carts (not be confused with the police, in marked cars and on bicycles), and they would be happy to offer you a ride to your car or to the edge of campus if you desired it as part of their services. The next speaker was an tall, thin, athletic male who came to pitch the school's sports activities and to say that just because they had a football team doesn't mean that they aren't serious about their other sports like cross-country running and golf. I got up and headed out to the lobby to find the bathroom, leaving my notebook and welcome packet behind, but taking my purse and, absent-mindedly, the empty bottle with me. 

The bathrooms were big, institutional, and fortunately quite empty. I walked to the back, to the handicapped stall (I prefer the bigger stall, the private sink), checked to insure it was clean and locked myself in. Quick glance around -- private sink, but no trash can. What moron thought that up? I set the bottle and the purse on the edge of the sink, undid my shorts and let them fall about my ankles, then sat down on the toilet. I didn't have to pee; I wanted the privacy, since this was going to be another mind-blowing orgasm. 

That's right, girl, it is going to be. I wonder what His cock is like... Gee, could you imagine if it were too big to fit you, or too long to take all of it in? I shivered momentarily, then closed my eyes and went back to my daydream as I touched myself all over, imagining it was Him. I could hear the patter of the athlete on the stage, carried by the sound system into here.

I had His cock into me, and it was a tie between heaven and hell, partially impaled, feeling the ridge at the back of His cock's head just slightly within me. I wanted to scream, but instead I moaned. In the bathroom, my fingers found my clit, still slightly raw from last night, and proceeded to touch it ever so softly.

I gasped. My mind flashed back to the dream where I was being thrust back and forth across His cock, wanting, panting, deliriously wanton but unfulfilled. Now, I was suddenly aware that it was happening again. He was in me in my daydream, but I felt the pangs of emptiness in reality, the craving. 

Is my little slut's drippy cunt still feeling empty? Then reach out and take the bottle, I want to feel something hard deep inside...

I had totally forgotten about the bottle. I reached out and took it, wiped it quickly with a bit of toilet paper. Taking it in hand, I rubbed the cool, long, thin neck against my opening, coating it with the juices that leaked so copiously from me. I pulled one foot through the leg opening of the shorts to permit myself to spread my legs further. That's right, spread us open for that hard cock... I slid forward on the toilet seat to the edge and leaned back a little, spreading my thighs as far apart as I could -- almost 180 degrees. My fingers spread my labia and I slowly let the bottle sink into me. My hand pushed and I felt the widening of the bottle at its' shoulder; slowly I drew out and pushed again, bringing my other hand back to my nipple. The bottle was dragging across my clit with each stroke and I relaxed to try to take more of it.

His hands slipped down to my waist and his mouth released my nipple, then he slowly pushed downward with His hands, allowing me to slide down that incredible pole. I could feel the tissues inside opening up for Him, parting with His passage, and felt filled, incredibly filled, more so because I had craved this for so long. His cock feels wonderful, huge, thick, hard -- and it goes so deep! Are you sure you can take it all, slut? Help Him, push down yourself, force it all into you! 

I pushed the bottle harder, going a little further with each stroke, my vaginal sphincter opening a tad with each assault. It wasn't a cock, but it was hard and thick and for now it would have to do. 

He sat up on His elbows, His face finding my nipple again, and bit it. I pushed myself down onto Him, taking a little more of His length and girth with each stroke. I started to shake and He canted His hips back and forth, driving into me with short strokes, each one changing the angle at which His cock filled me. He lay back down and reached up, pulling me towards Him by my nipples. I came forward and His arms wrapped about me, pulling me ever onward, until my breasts dragged across His thick chest. I continued to move, stuffing that wondrous cock in me, whimpering, babbling incoherently. His mouth found my earlobe and started to lick and suck it; it was too much for me. His hands slid down to my ass and were guiding me in my strokes, using me as I needed to be used. Beg Him for it. You know you can't cum without His permission. Ask His permission, because we'll be in such trouble if we don't...

"Oh, God, Master, may your little slut come all over that huge cock of Yours?" panting, moaning.

He pulled His lips from my earlobe momentarily. "Do you want to cum now, little one?"

"Yes, please, may I??? Urrgggg..."

Whispering, he replied, "soon, little one, very soon."

"Now?!? I can't (ummhhh) wait (aaahhhh) much (ooohhh!) longer... Plllleeeeaasseee?"

"Imagine that you entire body is nothing but a huge pussy; your earlobe is your clit, all swollen and soft in My mouth..."

He took absolute control, holding my skin tightly, impaling me repeatedly on His stave. His lips sought out my earlobe again, and sucked as if to give it a hickey. I was incoherent, full, beyond this place, my entire being focused on where He touched me, where our skin met, and I bit into His shoulder to try to control my overwhelming lust. In this position, my clit was dragging against His shaft with each thrust. My contractions started and I felt fear in displeasing Him by cumming too soon, without permission. I wanted to slow down, to hold it off since He hadn't given His words of release, but His hands drove me onward.

Speaking while continuing to suck on my earlobe, He said "Do you like that, My sweet little cunt? Do you like how it feels when We are one, together, our flesh burning against each other?"

I moaned through clenched teeth, still biting His skin. My body was ignoring my attempts at trying to come away from the peak, the peak that was but a hair's breath away and yet getting higher with each passing second, my muscles contracting across my body as my will fled and was replaced with more animal lust.

"I can feel your cunt pleading with My cock for release; the muscle contractions, the spasms. I can feel your engorged clit rubbing up and down My length, pleading, begging. Tell Me what you are, slut... "

I couldn't think straight, but I knew I had to answer to be permitted release. One of His hands came away from my flesh for a second and then landed with a stinging sensation. "What are you?"

I pulled my mouth away from His shoulder (spank), and screamed "I am Yours, I am a slut (swat) - Your slut, a cunt (swat) - Your cunt, a slave (swat) - Your slave, a perverted little twat... (swat) (Aaaahhhhrrrr) Please, Sire?!?"

"Now, Karri, cum for Me, make that cunt feel what is to give itself to Me..."

The last part only registered in my brain slightly, because as soon as I heard the word 'Now' I started to cum. I screamed like a banshee and arched my back, then slammed myself down against His hard cock over and over, like a mad woman trying to pop a balloon. His teeth bit into my earlobe... My legs shook, my arms twitched, my stomach tightened, and the power of the wave ran over me, taking me, using me, ignoring whatever I wanted just to fulfill its' own needs. His fingers found my nipple and pulled, twisted lightly, tugged, drawing out that orgasm even further, not letting it end yet. My body turned into a huge mass of quivering flesh, vibrating on that golden rod. Everything else was obliviated; I was just a cunt surrounding His flesh and nothing more existed in the universe except the feelings within my cunt and the thickness it surrounded. My legs gave out and I jerked spasmodically on His cock, each jerk pushing my clit against His skin and starting another reaction. I collapsed upon Him, and twitched, the images of it all burned into my eyelids. His arms wrapped about me, lovingly, holding me, and when I would think it was pretty much over, He would flex His hips again, pushing Himself into me deeply, and run a finger across the back of my neck and then kiss my face. I was sated; I was woman and there was no doubt that this is what I was meant for -- to be His however he would have me. 

Slowly, I came back to reality. The speaker was one I didn't recognize. I pulled the bottle, and it didn't want to come out at first, held in by suction. I pulled harder, twitching as its girth drew outwards against my clit. It finally released with a suction sound, and I squeezed my kegel muscles to force the air outward. When I did so, a great wave of fluid came out, undoubtably having been held in place by the bottle's tight fit. I slowly stood, dizzy, weak, and smiled. 

Finally, I reached for my purse and placed it on the floor, then sat backwards on the sink and washed away the juices that covered me. Using a ridiculous amount of toilet paper, I patted everything dry and then flushed the paper down the toilet. 

Slowly, I dressed, trying to make myself moderately presentable, in spite of the fact that I was sweaty and looked drained. Retrieving my purse, I was at ends about what to do with the bottle -- do I leave it here, do I take it with me and throw it away, or do I take it home and mount it in a frame, a trophy for Him at a later date to show Him how badly He made me need? Finally, I decided I would throw it away and at some later time -- sometime in the next few days -- I would find an adult store and buy a proper dildo that I could tuck in my purse. 

I opened the stall door, and as I did, the black policewoman walked in, flushed, excited, posed for action. I looked at her, not comprehending. She spoke first...

"Are you OK? There were reports of screaming in here."

"Uhhh... yes, I'm fine. I'm sorry."

"Are you alone?"

"I think so." I started to think about suitable excuses, although it wasn't like me to use them for any reason -- this was just too hard to explain.

She quickly moved stall to stall, checking to see if there was anyone else (there wasn't), and then turned back towards me. "Do you want to explain yourself?"

A light bulb flashed on in my head. "No, not really, but I will anyway. The slide show in the auditorium was flashing at a particular rate, and I felt a seizure start to come on, so I came in here to take my medicine and lay down to help prevent injury." 


I hoped she hadn't heard what was being screamed. The bottle picked that exact moment to drop from my weakened fingers and tinkered across the ground, fortunately not breaking. She eyed me closely, as if to examine me, and then noting my flushed and weakened state, accepted the excuse. 

"You should have gotten somebody for help."

"I'm here for the first time and didn't know where to go. I didn't see any of the blue flashing lights the security personnel spoke of here in the lobby and didn't think I would have the time to leave the building to seek proper help."

"OK. I think we should get you to the clinic so they can make sure you're ok."




Finding Myself at USF Ch. 8



"I'm OK." I stated that quite firmly, before continuing. "I need to make sure I sit through the rest of the orientation, because if I miss it, I won't have another chance before the semester starts and I won't be able to enroll. I only get the seizures very rarely -- usually less than once a year, and only when triggered by certain stimulus. As long as I take the pill they gave me right when it starts, it's over in just a few minutes."

She shrugged, but seemed genuinely concerned. I retrieved the bottle and walked out, with a short, curt "Thank you, officer," as I passed her. I had to get clear of her before my excuse broke down -- she might insist that I go to the clinic, or want to see the prescription, or some such. I walked briskly back into the auditorium.

As I hurried back to my seat, my inner-voice spoke up... 

Only certain stimulus, eh? If that happened less than once a year, I would be very disappointed in you.

"Oh, shut up. You got me into this mess, suggesting I use the bottle. I wouldn't have screamed if it had just been a run-of-the-mill orgasm. But no, you couldn't settle for that," I thought to myself.

I wasn't sure what I missed, so I pulled out the welcome packet again. A new speaker took the stage, an older gentleman, graying, wearing a loose gray button down shirt that had seen better days but was clean none the less. He was from registration and explained what OASIS is -- an information network used to do almost everything important at the school, from register for classes to getting your grades, picking up your transcripts, checking your requirements, semester calendar, et cetera. It was probably the only thing from the orientation that was really important, and I was glad I had made it back when I did.

The police officer stood at the side of the room and searched me out with her eyes, then watched me intently for a while, to ensure there would be no more 'reasons for concern.' I would try to ensure there wasn't. I sunk a little lower in my seat and paid rapt attention to the speaker, scribbling notes furiously...



Finding Myself at USF Ch. 9



After the OASIS speaker finished talking about the OASIS network, a group got on stage and said they would be leading us to different parts of campus to register for classes, depending on which major we had. 

"Undeclared, please follow Gina here. Arts and Letters, which includes sociology, psychology, history, please follow Bob. Engineering, including chemistry, math and physics majors, go with Lisa..." 

Anyway, you get the idea. Completely forgetting the bottle on the floor, I followed Gina out of the auditorium, across the street, through the lobby of the building (yet again) and across campus for what seemed like a long trek in the pounding summer heat to Cooper Hall, one of the buildings on campus. As we came up to the building, I noticed a Subway Sandwich Shop at the ground floor and Yvette sitting at one of the tables in front of it, waving at me. She fell in beside me, and the group was guided to three student-secretaries sitting at computers in one of the offices. We lined up and they completed the admissions process, explaining how to register in person, where our counselors were, and then registered those who knew what they were taking in the fall. Yvette handed me a slip of paper and told me to give it to the counselor -- it would be my fall schedule.

"But Yvette, I haven't picked out my classes yet. Hell, I don't even know what I am going to major in."

"Yes, I know, but it's time you got an idea. The selection of classes here are widely varied and will give you a peak into a bunch of different discipline, to help you pick a major before the semester is over. Anyway, we can change it once we get home using OASIS via the web. If they register you now, you'll know there isn't a hold on your registration for any reason, like missing shot records. And there's always drop-add week."

Harrrummmpph. I felt like she was being overly controlling. The line moved forward a person. I thought about her explanation, while behind me three freshmen discussed the screaming coming from the women's bathroom during orientation. I pulled the sheet close she had handed me to my face, as if to examine the selections she had made, but I was actually hiding my face in embarrassment. Yvette's ears perked up and the expression on her face showed that she was blatantly eavesdropping upon the conversation. 

The processes in my mind shifted through the information I had, and I decided that I might as well go ahead and register now. I stayed hidden behind the paper for a few more moments, still blushing a bit. I then drew out the course schedule and opened that instead, since it was larger and offered me greater protection. The line moved, and I found myself at the front of the line. I handed the student-secretary desk the paper Yve had given me, realizing I hadn't even looked at Yve's choices. 

"Student ID number?" asked the girl behind the desk.

I just shook my head, not knowing what mine was. 

"Social security number, please? Your soc is your student ID."

I gave it to her. That provided, she typed away at the listings I had given her, and then looked up at me and smiled, then said

"You're all set. Have a great day!"

Yvette steered me back out of the building and back the way the group had come. She asked if I had heard the screams, and I told her truthfully that I had not -- after all, I hadn't realized I was screaming at all, thinking it was just in my head; I had been a bit distracted at that instant, too busy to listen to myself scream...

We walked back across campus in the sweltering summer heat of Florida. I wasn't used to the overwhelming heat and humidity yet, and I started perspiring rather heavily. By the time we got back to the building with the lobby (the one that I had passed through repeatedly all day), Yvette was eying me carefully. I was soaked through with sweat. 

"Caroline, you look flushed and over heated. Heat stroke and dehydration are serious issues for newbies to Florida. I noticed you looked that way when you first came over to Cooper Hall, but I was hoping your time in the air conditioning would have changed that."

I just nodded, not willing to say what it was that had actually drained me of my energy and fluids, nor that those same fluids were leaking copiously from my sopping wet pussy.

"Let's stop here at one of the places and grab a drink while you just rest and cool down a little. Say, did you have a full physical before you left home?" Yve asked.

"I went to see the OB/GYN, if that's what you mean," I told her.

"No, I meant a full physical, blood work, the whole nine yards, just as a preventative check-up. I figured your dad would have made you go, Karri."

"He didn't. I think he was preoccupied with the fact that he was loosing his little girl for real for the first time."

We walked up to a self-serve counter and Yvette grabbed a couple large plastic mugs with the school logo on it, then handed me one.

I blurted one of the few things I remembered from the orientation: "Go Bulls."

Yvette smiled at that, then explained, "these mugs are pretty cool -- you buy one for $2.49, and then refills for the whole semester are just 75 cents. I think I have like half-a-dozen of them at home; I keep taking them home and forgetting to bring them back with me. The school changes the logo slightly each semester, so you have to buy a new one to get the same deal."

We filled up the mugs and paid, then wondered out to a table by the window, one that was still in the shade. Yve launched into a lecture: 'The dangers of Florida heat,' and because she's my friend and because I value her opinions, I listened. After all, wasn't she right about the banana and the damsk sheets?

"Karri, although Florida is the beach vacation destination for everyone from the north during the fall, winter and spring, Florida gets really hot in the summer -- so hot, in fact, that only the natives are here and tourism is at its lowest point of the year. Your body sweats to try to cool you down, so you lose fluids really fast outside, especially if you're not accustomed to it."

"Yve, I was in Phoenix, Arizona. The temperature there was 120 degrees the whole time and I did ok."

"Yes, but that is dry heat. In Arizona, your body's sweat evaporates and thus keeps you fairly cool. Here the humidity outside during the summer is usually above ninety-five percent, often at ninety-nine percent or even right at one-hundred percent. That means that the outdoor air around you is so wet that your own sweat doesn't evaporate, and thus doesn't keep your body cool at all, and your internal body temperature rises as a result. Another issue is that all that sweating causes you to lose salt very quickly, which screws with your nervous system and your blood's ability to carry oxygen."

I nodded, taking this all in, and I sipped continuously at my drink. Her lecture was making thirsty all on its own. She continued...

"So, the first rule is: fluids, lots of fluids, and ice-cold ones at that, since taking in a cold drink helps reduce your core temperature. It's not uncommon to see people with drinks in their hand almost all the time around here, especially outdoors. The second rule is to start actively adding salt to your food, an extra pinch on your eggs, fries, et cetera, to offset what you're loosing. The third rule: seek shelter from the sun and heat whenever you start to feel run-down -- almost every building in the state is air conditioned these days, including all the stores, restaurants, cafes, even gas stations and laundry mats. Just find a building that's open for business and go in. And the last rule is to never, ever, EVER jump into a body of cold water when you're already overheated like that, since it can trigger a number of conditions including black-outs, convulsions, cramps, and even a stroke in some people."

She paused for a moment and then continued. "There is another aspect of it all that you have to watch out for too: summer pneumonia. Walking in and out of the air conditioning all day, with the rapid fluxes in body temp. If you're soaked in sweat, the sweat can chill you to the bone in a cold room, and even the air in your lungs can suddenly release its' water content into your lungs on walking into a chilled environment, similar to the condensate droplets running down the outside of your drink."

I glanced down at the cup and realized what she meant. 

She seem mollified. I wanted to ask her about HIM, but didn't want to seem to be over-obvious and eager until I knew her situation in regards to Him. Instead, I asked about the classes here. Were there really so many classes that it took 168 pages to print them all? She assured me that between the four campuses, the fact that they offered classes morning, noon, night and weekends for some, yes, there really were a kajillion classes. Then Yve noted that many of them would be the same class listing with different meeting times and/or professors. She reached across and picked up the class schedule from the table, then flipped through it to find English 1101 and 1102. She showed me the listings and I realized that between the two classes, they consumed more than a whole page -- over fifty different sessions of the same class. After attending a community college, this was kind of mind boggling to me.

Finally, we packed up and decided to head home, so I could shower and change into dry clothes, and so we could resume our shopping jaunts -- including, Yvette quipped, clothing more suitable for this weather. I couldn't see what was wrong with what I had on, but she interjected more wisdom...

"The fashion is fine, for someone from up north. But the fabrics, they're all so thick and stiff, and don't float, but rather suck up all the sweat from your skin," she explained.

As we stepped out of the lobby of the building and started to proceed down the road, a guy on a motorcycle pulled around the curve of the street. Stopping about twenty feet from where we were, he waved at us. Yvette asked me to wait, then walked over to him. He was an alpha-male figure, strong thighs, broad chest, broad shoulders, maybe just a tad soft in the middle, but not seriously so. He was fully clothed: black boots with straps, blue jeans, a long oxford dress shirt, a pair of perforated leather gloves and a red-and-black helmet with a golden faceplate that reflected in the sunlight. I couldn't see his face, nor any of his skin except at the top of his shirt, the top two or three buttons being open, and just the slightest bit at the wrists.

They spoke quietly in the distance, and my inner-voice started to hold a conversation with me.

Hey, check out the stud on the cycle. Pant, pant!

"I already was looking at him, thank you very much," I thought back to myself. I knew where that voice would get me if I dared to listen to it too much. "So his chest is bigger than his stomach, so what?"

Just imagine that's Him. That way I know you'll do a really good job checking him out.

I tried to placate my inner-voice, glancing over again. His face was covered by the helmet, so I was left to concentrate on his body. I tried to steer the conversation away from his physical traits, lest my wanton nature take back over. "Yeah, yeah, I looked at the guy already. Mr. Nameless-Chill, totally anonymous behind the helmet. Maybe he's like that character that Brad Pit played, the one who also rode a motorcycle but couldn't tolerate sunlight, you know, the teen in Europe?"

Maybe, but I doubt it somehow. He must be good looking -- if he were ugly, would Yvette be talking to him? I doubt it. She definitely wouldn't have gone to him, if he were; she would have made him come to her. You know how she is that way. Can you see the muscles in his arms?

I looked closer, and responded, "yes, I can... ok, they're very nice. And I can see that he has a long neck."

Oh, a long neck... you know how sexy I find that! I'll bet he has a nice tight ass from riding that thing. And he gets bonus points for the motorcycle -- I want to feel the purring between my legs! Both of them: his' and the cycle's. Speaking of legs, look at those legs on him, so long and muscular, so sexy -- and that chest, hard, broad. I could really go for some packaged meat like that.

"Hmmmm... probably. Are you always so one-track minded? Don't bother to reply, I already know the answer."

I'll bet he has a delicious 'package' too, long and thick and just begging to feel you wrap your lips around it. You hussy, you, I can already feel you starting to crave him. Just imagine him tying your wrists to the handlebars, with you bent over the tank -- oh, the feeling the metal under my breasts, him riding us instead of it! Lucky damn motorcycle gets to be between his legs -- what a waste of our perfectly good pussy.

"Well, I doubt I'd kick him out of bed, but it's not him I want, it's HIM I crave right now -- and you damn well know it. I just hope he looks as yummy -- I only saw a headshot, you know."

HIM, him, any port in a storm! And from the waves of pleasure that ebbed through your loins this morning and last night -- and right now -- I'd say it was definitely a storm, a storm of passion. Just close your eyes, and see yourself laying back across the tank in some shaded glen deep in a forest, while he gives you what you really crave right now... Go over there and introduce yourself to him. 

"Oh, I simply couldn't," I thought, feeling a bit like a shy little girl and looking downwards at the street instead.

I heard the motorcycle roar back to life, and then lifted my eyes just in time to watch the figure come past. My inner-voice was right, it was a fairly small butt, but not too-small tiny. Just right. At least on him it looked just right. I smiled. As the nameless, faceless motorcyclist drifted from vision, I noticed a ponytail hanging from the back of the helmet, light colored hair, but I couldn't be sure of the shade. It was just a glimpse.

Yve wandered back over and interrupted my revere. "Sorry for the delay, Karri. Ready to go?"

I was slightly miffed about being left standing there like a dork. "OK, what-ever you say, Yvette. Who was that masked man?"

"M, but you know him as The CyberPoet."

I froze in my tracks and felt weak. I didn't trust my ears. Could have really been HIM? Maybe it was heat stroke after all. Lack of salt messing with my nerves. 

"Who?"

"You know, the guy whose poems I showed you yesterday. The CyberPoet," she said, nonchalantly.

I tried to recall His image as He drove past me, in vain. Could it have been HIM? 

She continued, "He said he thought you were, and I quote, very cute and exceedingly pretty."

I squealed inside, but tried to keep my face passive. Oh, Yes, baby, and he's a hottie too! I knew I hadn't succeeded when Yvette looked at me and smiled widely, mischievous and wickedly at that. She knew what I was thinking... 

It was a three-legged race back to the car, my attentions torn between my wildly beating heart, my swollen, battered and now dripping-again pussy, and my weak and wobbly legs. I have no clue how I made it or if Yvette said anything else during the short walk to the car, but I do vaguely remember her taking my arm to steady me. I was in heaven.

I sighed contentedly. Maybe I should pray more often?