8 comments/ 24209 views/ 2 favorites The Hardest Kind To Be Ch. 01 By: Joe Wordsworth In the offhand chance that you don't find the setting clear on the issue, all characters are eighteen and legal. This is also a madly different story genre than I'm used to writing, so be kind. . . .. ... ..... She hated her. Hated... though strong and dramatic, it was the only word that summed up their relationship. Nobody would have guessed it, but it's the truth. Secretly, deep down, and without reservation, Gina Morris held a deep down and powerful hatred of Sissy Thompasani. Seeing her flit and flutter her pretty blonde hair and toned, slender body here and there throughout high school was like a slow torture of Gina's self-esteem. Hearing the boys talk about her--even her closest friends--used to drive her absolutely mad. Being privy to their thoughts and hormones, even though here *waves hand*... right fucking here... there's a woman right here! Only to be treated like one of the guys, to be pooh-poohed if she didn't drum up some kind of casual-feaux-lust for the bitch or acknowledge her superior attractiveness. Hate. And Sissy didn't make it any easier. During gym or field practice (Sissy shaking it to lame 80's pop with the cheerleaders while Gina rigidly followed patterns in the Band), it would be the little blonde tramp who led the other little blonde tramps in snide comments about the few girls that Gina had made lasting friendships with during those awkward years. Oh, things like Carla needs to get on a diet or better hurry up, girls, or the good prom dates'll get taken or two words, dear, make...up. Like they were all that was good and sexy in the world, just because they starved themselves at an early age and grew boobs first. Horrid bitch. There was, sure, a jealousy--who didn't want to be them? Who didn't want to be confidant and pretty and make the boys coo with smiles and big doe eyes? But puberty was hard enough without having it rubbed in your face that some girls escape it mentally, socially, and physically unscathed. Gina was not quick to develop as a teenager, and what developed was often difficult to manage. When breasts finally started showing up, at fourteen, she was terrified--the left one was larger than the right and they weren't all that large. Boys seemed to like "large". But, hips did show up, and with that a wider-than-supermodel butt that made her jeans fit just plain badly and precluded cuter outfits. Her brown hair was uninteresting, and attempts to dye it turned into disasters to be gawked at during class. The red, particularly, was a bad idea--she looked desperate and awkward. Her first attempts at a skirt were met with jeers, moreso from the girls than the guys, who might have liked it... she'd never know, she didn't have the courage to flirt. No. One would not mistake Gina, at sixteen, for a girl comfortable in her own skin. She had two boyfriends, back then. A bumbling friend that she dated out of pity, moreso than attraction. It was a strange relationship where she gave him kisses and attention, and he didn't know what to do with either. Danny would have been great, in a few years--after the allure of video games and his lack of experience wore off. Steven was hardly better, a braggart and a blowhard--more interested in taking her to lame backwoods parties where he'd get drunk and fumble at her than talking to her. If it wasn't for the one friend of hers, Maureen, who tried feeling her up during a sleepover--and the general discomfort and genuine awkwardness afterward, Gina would have thought about giving girls a go. But, no, she wasn't a lesbian--despite jokes from her guy friends--and she wasn't successful at being hetero. She was a girl--and a normal one... positively, the hardest kind to be. Predictably, Gina was a good student. She did well in class, she liked learning, and her teachers regarded her well--which wasn't too surprising, given that most teachers regard bookish girls and boys well. Before leaving for college, she had a few weeks to get control over herself. Her older sister, Pamela, had gone a few years ago (though she ended up dropping out). All she had ever heard of the University was that it was a new life. Pamela told her often, "Babe, it's a different world. All of this high school shit you think is important? It's not. You just don't know it, yet, but none of this matters. Hang in there." So, hang in there she did. And on a ripe and moist day in August, Gina Morris started her first day of college. She was nervous, but excited. No parents. No pressure. Just her, tons of new people, and a whole summer before it where she felt like she'd grown up and matured a bit. It wasn't that Gina was shy, just that she never developed a good sense of timing or social grace. She wasn't afraid of talking to people, she just never knew what to say. She wasn't scared of doing things, just bad at doing them—usually. Oh, it was going to be a fresh whole life. She wasn't necessarily interested in being a different person, but here she could be everything she wanted to be. She didn't have to look at classmates and think "they remember that bad dye job" or "did they hear about the Maureen thing?" She was Gina. Hell, she could be Virginia--her full first name. She could be anything. Two thousand miles away from home and surrounded by people that liked books and watched the news and had interesting opinions. People she could study at coffee shops with and go to concerts on maybe double-dates with! Her mind raced from discussions to clubs to book-signings to concerts to movies to picnics to this and to that as she flew out to go to college. She thought about new friends and new stores and new hangouts and new things to try and new this and new that as she made her way to the campus. She continued daydreaming about boys and guys and lads and chaps and this fellow and that fellow as she moved in to the residence hall. Days and days of imagining and expectation and she finally made it—half a world away. Walking up the steps to the dorm. Pillow and comforter in hand, past the gaggles of families and girls and crowded halls of boxes and baskets and chatter. Through the maze of elevators and stairs and payphones... ...her world crashed. Her room, 810. A dichotomy. On the right side of the room was a bed and desk, same as all the others she passed on the way up here. The left side was brightly pink and softly purple. The teddy-bears were on the bed, and there--stretched out like a cat, reading Seventeen, was Sissy Thompasani. Blondely staring at her from under the magazine, half-shocked and half-disappointed. Gina Morris turned around--wordlessly--and went to the bathroom down the hall to cry. . . .. ... ..... Sobbing. Not something she liked doing, but something that felt good afterwards--Gina sobbed quietly to herself in the bathroom stall furthest from the door of the massive communal bathroom and shower. She cried for the years she'd felt small and ugly and wrong, and she cried harder for the years she felt were wasted--living not only in the shadow of girls like Sissy, but living with her as well. She saw the parties of girls like Sissy crowding the tiny dorm room. She saw make-up and boys and giggles and being ostracized in her own room. She saw feeling small and ugly and wrong for years to come. Because she hated Sissy, and Sissy hated her--and everyone would like her better and the boys she'd meet and invite to her room and fool around with were now boys that would gawk at the pretty blonde, boys that would want to be "friends", boys that would ask her questions about her roommate and pooh-pooh her for not deferring to the girl's greater sexiness. She saw a world that was going to hurt her again. And she cried. Because she was going to be extraordinary, and saw herself being mediocre again. And Gina was only going to be Gina. Never "Virginia", because Sissy would mock that. And if she requested a room change, then it'd be an outright admission of defeat. And if she tried to act boldly, she would lose the popularity contest that would ensue. And Gina Morris would likely have stayed in that stall, alone and sobbing, had it not been for the hand under the stall next to her handing her a tissue. A hand with a scrap of toilet paper--something she already had in her own hands in her own stall. The ridiculousness of seeing a scrapped ball of fresh TP being waved at her underneath the worn wooden wall, with a small voice whispering "Well, go on... I can't pee with you falling apart, so either you can help me develop kidney stones or you can dry up and we'll talk about it after I get this done over here." Between sobs, Gina laughed. Because even unfunny things are worth laughing about, even bad jokes are humorous; when you're so emotional you can't keep your eyes dry. Whoever this hand belonged to was a friend... and the least you can do for a friend is let them pee in peace. That's when Gina met Tina. And everything in the whole damn world changed to the sound of a perfect stranger peeing and giggling along with her about it. . . .. ... ..... Tina and Gina talked in the echo-ey bathroom for about an hour. At first, Gina felt a little uncomfortable with the public-feeling space. Girls and whatnot coming in and out constantly. But after the first few came and went, with Tina boisterously going on and on with the conversation--Gina felt a lot less self-conscious. Yes, there she was in a bathroom stall having a normal conversation with some girl in the next--she'd whispered to friends before in bathrooms, nothing strange there. But all shyness melted away after the Girl-with-the-rough-voice who just came in said "Hey, how about you two shut it for a few minutes or take it somewhere else?" and Tina replied "Shut your cunt, women are talking here, girl." Girl-with-the-rough-voice murmured something about "stupid bitches", but then the door opened and she quite obviously left. "So, anyhow. What was I saying?" Tina-from-behind-the-wall asked. "You were talking about 'Brad' or 'Brandon' or something." Gina replied. "Ohhhhhh, Brandy-boy... yeah. Now, him? I was in love with that boy. In absolute loooooooooouuuurrrve", she drawled out the word with just enough humor to show she was serious and keeping it light, "We dated for two years. He was so cute, Ginnie, I mean... tall and pretty and had really nice hair that you could just run your hands through like a puppy. And he would do really sweet things like buy me flowers or take me to dinner at grown-up places. Ahhhh, l'amore!" "And... so... are you two seeing each other still?" Gina asked. A pause took the moment away, and Gina thought maybe she'd said something to sadden the otherwise vibrant girl-behind-the-wall. "Kinda. Like.... fuck, its hard to explain. He goes to FJU, I go here. We never broke-up-proper-broke-up. We just kinda did that whole 'write me' and 'we'll visit' kind of thing before graduation. So, no. We're not really together anymore. I mean, I wouldn't cheat on him or anything, but if I met someone I liked--I'd call him up. I guess we're just on the waiting list for a break-up. But, he's going to meet some girl there, I just know it. And, pffffft. I'm not happy about that, but I'm not angry either. We just didn't want to actually let go, even though we know we're already lost. But, I'm not being sappy with him and he's not being sappy with me--which is great, because if he told me he loved me, right now, I'd just fall to tears, y'know? Because it wouldn't work. He wouldn't do that to me. Our last conversation will be something about meeting other people, I know it. I'm ready for that one, but its gotta be a clean break." Tina casually explained. "I've never had a real boyfriend before", Gina blurted out without thinking. She immediately hushed and clenched her eyes shut--how goddamn embarrassing is that? I'm a total loser and now she knows I'm a total loser, she thought. "But, you're probably one of those hot chicks that don't know they're a hot chick. Like, I'm going to pull my pants up in a few minutes because my legs are falling the fuck asleep--how long have we been at this? An hour? Two? Anyhow--I'll pull my pants up and we'll step outside the stalls and you'll be six feet tall and drop-dead gorgeous and be one of those 'I'm a hot virgin, librarian-type that doesn't even need make-up, but doesn't know I'm all hot and every cock in a three mile radius would stab their best friend to deflower me, which is fine because I've never had sex and I waited until college and the first guy that gets some will be a fetishist for going down on me and I'm going to have the best sex of anyone's life without having to deal with all the bad sex you have to go through first' types... you bitch.", Tina prattled on and on. "Nope. I guess you're going to be disappointed." Gina laughed back, blushing wildly to herself. "Nah. You're going to have legs to die for and you're going to be all meek and whatnot and I'm going to end up throwing over my life-long pledge to not finger another girl because I'm going to fall instantly in love and then I'll have to call Brandon and crush his ego by telling him that I, his lovely girl, have become a total dyke--but that's alright, because she's just shy of Heidi Klum. And he'll go cry himself to sleep in a frat house somewhere--not because I'm a lesbian, but because I'm tossing Heidi Klum's salad and he's not. Oh, I read your book, you magnificent slut, you!!!" Tina was laughing, which made Gina fall out laughing. The two giggled back and forth until the mood was broken by the passing of gas by Gina--which stutter-stepped the laughter, and followed it up with cackling by both girls. "Oh... oh, well, that scratches that. Klum doesn't have an anus. That's what I hear. She's like a plant, she just breathes in CO2 and exhales oxygen and smells... hoo, wow, girl... lay off the whatever... smells like cupcakes instead of compost." Tina managed between guffaws. Gina felt better. Better than she had in a long, long time. She forgot all about Sissy. She forgot about everything. She just wanted to hug this girl and thank her and maybe buy her lunch and go watch boys at the Student Union because Tina was sure to be a lot of fun to hang out with. "Well, alright. Let's get out of here and grab some dinner. I'm absolutely starving. How's that sound?" Tina-behind-the-wall said. Taking a deep breath and standing up--ouch--Gina liked that idea, "Sure, let's get out of here." Tina-behind-the-wall pulled up her jeans and some sounds of zippers and flushing overtook the moment. Gina stepped out of the stall and felt stunned and almost retreated back inside. In front of her was what she could only describe as a "gorgeous, Librarian-type". Tina was tall, not six feet tall, but easily six inches taller than Gina--who stood a mere 5'4". She had red hair, but really, really red. She was wearing tight-ish jeans and a cute green shirt, and looked all the world like something out of a teen-magazine. She was fair-skinned and pretty and, from the last two hours of conversation, smart and funny. Gina wasn't any of those things, and she was nervous. The two young women looked at each other for a moment. Gina, looking obviously a bit crest-fallen; Tina, looking like she'd just heard a joke and didn't understand it. She cocked an eyebrow at Gina, tilted her head a little to the right, planted her hands on her hips, and just smiled. "What? You were expecting someone shorter, huh?" Tina smirked. "Oh, no, no... I..." Gina was just not sure what to say, "Nice to meet you." She stuck out her hand, not knowing what else to say. Tina looked at the hand and looked at her, and smiled wider--her lips were just... perfect. Was she even wearing any make-up? Probably not, thought Gina. Tina took a slow step forward with her hands out, like approaching a dangerous animal. She even scrunched up her nose and frowned (still smiling) like she was intently looking for any signs of attack. She closed the gap between them and put her arms around Gina quickly--catching the shorter girl by total surprise. "Gotcha!" she giggled as she hugged Gina, "Now, you can feel all weird because you think I'm a total babe, or we can just go back to the way it used to be... back in the old days, in the stall. Y'know? I got your height wrong, but you're a total hottie--stop being awkward about it. I'm glad I met you." Tina said softly and sincerely. Gina hesitated, for a moment, but put her arms around the taller girl and hugged back, trying not to cry. "Thanks for listening." she said quietly. "Hey, you're the only person I've met all day who doesn't cut me off when I'm talking--and I talk a lot. That's gonna make us best friends. So, there. Now, let's get some food. Milkshakes, dah-ling, milkshakes are what friendships are made of." Tina said sweetly and with a weird accent that only made it funnier. Gina smiled and said "Sure, milkshakes it is." The bathroom door popped open again, and two girls stopped clean in their tracks, staring at the odd couple hugging each other. One of them started giggling and murmuring something to the other when Tina shouted back "I hear one gay joke and I will so cut a bitch. I swear.. to.. God!" The two gigglers turned somber and backed out of the bathroom. Tina pulled back and looked at the shorter brunette, "Don't worry about everyone. That's your first problem. We can fix that. But, first, milkshakes, Ginnie my dear." And Tina and Ginnie walked out of the bathroom, hopped in Tina's old Dodge Charger, and peeled out in search of adventure and milkshakes. With a new sense of assertiveness, Ginnie asked "So, does us being friends make me more cool?" "Oh, hell yes, totally. With out a doubt. Definitely. We're mad crazy cool. Put on those sunglasses, we're riding in style, girl!" Tina pushed some over-sized Paris-Hilton shades at her. Putting them on, Ginnie relaxed in the car, put her arm out the window and leaned back. Cool. Maybe this will turn out alright afterall. . . .. ... ..... Thanks for reading the first chapter, I'll be uploading the next shortly--if you like it so far, please rate me well and give me some feedback. We are a vain people, writers, and live and die by the ratings—though we we'd prefer being slaves only "to the art". Joe The Hardest Kind To Be Ch. 02 That first week of classes would be fondly looked back on as one of the most purely exciting times of Ginnie's life. She met dozens of new people, most of them as nervous and eager as she was to get into some kind of rhythm. Her schedule was all mornings--so it left her afternoons relatively dry and open to interpretation. Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays she had Spanish and Greek--having been talked into the former by her high school guidance counselor and the latter by Tina, who felt that one should be able to make lewd comments in a language only the overly educated would understand. It was a toss up between Latin and Greek, with the only difference being the sheer number of text books (with Latin several pounds ahead, and thus picked over). Spanish class was a little more traditional than Greek. Where Spanish was a large auditorium in the History Department's Building, taught to two hundred students at once--where nobody knew anyone's name that wasn't one seat away, Greek was a dozen or so people around a conference table in the Religion Department, on the third floor of Gan Hall. Everyone was looking at everyone else all period—which was disturbing and relaxed at the same time. Ginnie, however, grew fond of her immediate surroundings in Spanish. There was a tall, black fellow to her right who always wore very sharply ironed jeans with a stiff crease in them--he looked like an athlete and stood well over 6' tall. Maybe 6'6"? 6'8"? Ginnie was horrible at heights. But he smelled nice, and that was a good thing with such close proximity--he came to Spanish talking on a cell phone and smelling like pancakes. She knew his name was Durellion or something like that, but they never really spoke in class. He had a nice smile and wasn't intimidating. Tuesdays and Thursdays it was Calculus, English, and Biology. Her math class was just like high school: desks and chairs and teachers and chalk. She always did like math, so this was the easier portion of those mornings. Nobody ever really talked in class, though many fell asleep--she didn't figure on making any new friends there. English was a small discussion group of thirty students and one very young looking teacher's assistant. From what she could glean of the course, she'd never meet the professor--but he'd make tests and require readings and grade essays. Her T.A. was a young man who couldn't have been more than thirty named Yoseph--he had a faint accent that she couldn't place, but was energetic when he talked and seemed to ignore the dumb stares he got when asking questions about the readings. Ginnie felt a little flushed whenever he'd look at her. He was also very tall--though that's not too hard when you're a bit short--with brown, faintly graying hair and green eyes. He called her Miss Morris, and she felt a little bit faint whenever he did. So silly, she thought, but Tina had been helping her be o.k. with being a little silly--so no harm there. She'd mentioned Yoseph to Tina, only to be horribly mocked and teased about him well into lunch the next day. She took it in good humor and even made some jokes, herself, about crushing on him. The campus of the University was, by all accounts, gorgeous. It was one of the things that attracted Ginnie to go there--besides her sister, of course. There were trees and green everywhere, large open areas dedicated to green grass and tall oaks and colorful magnolia trees. Ginnie was used to a colder climate, a place where the green was thick and brushy--here, though, was a place where the green kind of splayed out and relaxed, soaking up the sun. It was still Summer-ish and the boys and girls (and young men and women) went to and fro in shorts and t-shirts and jeans--casual attire that conflicted with what her and most other freshman were wearing... presses pants, collared shirts, and a look that just screamed "I'm looking my best, please notice!" It was warm enough to be a northern summer, despite being a southern fall here. The sun and humidity won out by nine in the morning, and anyone not ready for some heat wound up succumbing to the elements before breakfast was over. Tina and Ginnie shared only the one class, Greek. It was full of nerdy types and bookworms, all of them boys, most with disheveled clothing and unkempt features. Both girls took their stares a little differently. Where Tina proceeded to frequently lean over to this fellow or that fellow, picking different ones to sit by each day, leaning close and whispering so very near their ear for help on this or "what did the professor say?" kind of artifices; Ginnie was more comfortable sitting there and trying not to make eye contact with any of them, though her and Tina traded funny drawings of one particularly intent and angry boy at the end of the table named Carlos. After the first week of classes, with the first weekend's arrival, it seemed as though Tina and Ginnie had known each other for years. They caught lunch together three times a week, and saw each other for dinner and evening dorm visits with other girls every night. They were almost inseparable. If Tina was walking up to a guy to ask for a cigarette and a light (and coming in very close to get the latter for the former), it was Ginnie sitting on the bench laughing at the poor boy's "deer in the headlights" reaction. And if Ginnie was missing an opportunity to meet someone new, it was Tina introducing her instead. Time spent around Tina was time she, magically, found herself not tripping over her own words or being awkward. She didn't know whether that was more because of Tina's flamboyant nature rubbing off a bit, or because college was just a different place. And all during that week, Ginnie had been surprised to see that Sissy--the only part of her high school to follow her halfway across the world like this--was nowhere to be found. If the blonde came to their room, it was during times when Ginnie wasn't there. Things would be out of place from one day to the next, but Ginnie couldn't tell when Sissy was coming or going--and she really stopped caring, one way or the other, by that first Saturday. That was the Saturday of the party, and her first real sexual encounter. . . .. ... ..... "So... sit down and try not to gush while I show off my assets. I do not need you dreaming about me tonight, because that would just be uber-creepy considering I'm going to have some sweaty man groping your yum-yums by one in the morning... and he deserves better than to have his conquest dreaming of some foxy redhead's sweet, sweet butt.", Tina rattled on and on while Ginnie sat on her bed casually reading the latest from Yoseph's class--Hamlet. It wasn't bad. "I still don't want to have sex with you." Ginnie replied nonchalantly, rolling her eyes jokingly. She was used to Tina's humorous accusations, and smiled genuinely. The girl had a way with words, after all. "Oh, you lying bitch. Oh, well fine. Look, it's the party of the century tonight at the Rho Pi house and I insist you and I both look our best. I want to be well dressed if I have to call Brandon", Tina flitted about her room--a single dorm room all to herself and, thus, spacious as hell. She started throwing things out of her closet onto the spare bed while Ginnie waited patiently for the outfits to show up. Tina, apparently satisfied that she'd tossed out all the unworthy clothes, shot to her feet and daintily turned around like a debutante presenting herself. "Alright. I want honesty, Ginnie dear. If you lie, I will know. I will sense it in my journalistic ovaries", Tina had been flirting with journalism as a major and hadn't lost an opportunity to bring it up in polite conversation. "Oh, I'll tell you if you look like a... y'know... a skank." Ginnie giggled. She couldn't imagine joking about calling someone a skank a week ago, but so much changes so fast. "Please do", Tina curtly replied. The tall redhead grabbed the hem of her little blue t-shirt and lifted it over her head while she kicked off her sneakers. Ginnie hadn't noticed the disrobing, being much more interested in thinking about Yoseph acting out the duel scene the next day--and get a little warm while doing it. But, with the wriggling and muffled vulgarities coming from underneath the half-on/half-off shirt and a bobbing around Tina, Ginnie couldn't help but notice the girl struggling comically. In between chuckles, Ginnie noticed--for the first time since they'd met--just how amazingly put together Tina was. With her arms wrapped up over her head, and the lack of shirt--Tina was proudly displaying assets Ginnie hadn't truly noticed before. The tight line of her abdomen, perfectly toned without being muscular; breasts that seemed to either supported by God's most perfect bra, or sheer genetics--it wasn't that she was surprised that Tina had boobs, she could kinda tell that already, it was that where Ginnie had figured the redhead invested in a pushup or something a bit padded... it appeared to be the case that the implied C-cups were actually real. Ginnie was silent as could be while Tina kept undressing. The latter not noticing the stares while she unbuttoned and stripped off her jeans. A pair of tiny, hip-hugging white panties hardly covered an athletic form. It never occurred to Ginnie to ask Tina if she had done any sports, but she was almost certain the girl had to have run track or done some kind of athletics. Her legs, though fair and white, were firm and shapely, and when she turned around that thin scrap of white fabric did nothing to hide a dancer's butt. High and firm, with narrow hips to accentuate the thin waistline. While following the line of those panties around and around, as the other girl pulled off socks and turned towards the closet, Ginnie was absolutely mesmerized. She'd never seen such a beautiful woman mostly naked like this before. She truly didn't know how to not stare; she wondered why everyone didn't just gape at people like Tina all the time. She wondered what her skin maybe felt like... was it... smooth and... it looked cool... like, maybe a little bit cold to the touch--like porcelain. She looked a little longer and wondered how those panties, as small as they were, could cover Tina's... "Hey! You! I'm up here. I swear I'm going to do this by myself if you don't start getting with the program. I totally knew you wanted me.", Tina put her hands on her hips and looked angry--while trying to hold back the giggling. Ginnie snapped to immediately. Where was she, where had she been? Where had those thoughts come from? "I'm just wondering", she started--not knowing where she was going with it, "How come you're covered under that? Do you... y'know... shave? Like, there?" Tina dropped the frowning and went back to her usually chipper self while she searched for something to wear on the bed. "Well, no. No, I don't. Because I'm not putting anything sharp like that near my", she waved her hand around her crotch, "...my, y'know, lady-parts. But, I do get waxed. It hurts a little, but it's totally worth it." "Oh. Well, yeah." Ginnie hadn't tried that before, though she'd given the shaving a go when she was younger out of boredom and curiosity. It made her itch and she didn't really need or like it. "Anyhow, let's get back to the topic at hand", the redhead sparked as she hopped down from the high-rise bed, "What outfit has the sinful duty of covering all this hotness? Hmmmm? How about the green?" Tina grabbed a green minidress that looked more like a large legwarmer than a dress and slipped it on. The velvety material hugged every line and curve, her toned tummy was outlined faintly in the cloth, her hips and legs looked amazing contrasted against the fabric. She looked like a model. Which... come to think of it...? "Wait... Tina, can I ask you something?" Ginnie almost whispered. The redhead leaned down as though about to hear a confession not meant for others. "What?", she put on a look that was half-comical and half-curious, a sort of wide-eyed panic that seemed more in line with a grown-up humoring a child's telling of a seeeeecret. "Have you ever... been, like, a model?" Ginnie hushed. Tina looked at her for a second, right into her eyes--those blue eyes just fiercely studying the motive behind such a question. They were almost nose to nose, and Ginnie was half-frightened that the girl might yell or get offended--though why she should was beyond her. Tina sort of nodded to herself, not really an admission of anything the question was asking, but more of a response to some kind of internal inquiry. The pretty redhead sort of nodded to herself, with a tight-lipped thoughtfulness and put her hands on either side of Ginnie's face. Very soft, very intentional hands, very long fingers running their way back into Ginnie's hair behind her head. Tina leaned in and kissed her on the nose. "Ginnie, hon, that was the nicest thing anyone's said to me, ever", Tina still nodded to herself and looked the brunette in the eyes with a genuine camaraderie. "Now, can we get back to the outfits?" Ginnie was smiling; Tina had a way of making everything worth smiling about. "Sure. I think you look like a skank in that. What else you got?" she prodded. Tina, in a flourish both funny and overdramatic, peeled the green dress off and went back to the pile. "Oh, much, dah-ling. I have much clothes. Too much clothes!" she prattled on. After three outfits, they'd found the perfect match. A pair of tight white capris, an unreasonably evident black thong, and a white blouse--a little too small--covering a matching black lace bra. With the right accessories and sassy white hat, Tina looked like something on a New York nightclub scene. She looked casual and sexy, and Ginnie was certain her friend would knock them all dead at whatever party she was going to. "Your turn. We have to get you done up and we haven't time for you to argue with me. So... do you trust me?" Tina put her hands up in her usual "are you a wild animal about to attack" pose. "I didn't know I was going... I didn't... you didn't say," Ginnie stuttered on and on. "Oh, for fucks sake, Gin. I can't just walk in alone. Look at me. They... will... rape... me. I need backup. I need someone to throw to the rapists as I run away." she smirked. It seemed like whenever Tina smirked, it made everything else o.k. Ginnie hadn't really thought about going to a party, but this was college--she absolutely had to start off college different than high school. She must go to parties and not be a wallflower. She knew this. "Alright. I trust you. But, c'mon... nothing too crazy. I'm not ready for all that." she implored her impulsive friend. Tina looked her over, like a doctor inspecting a new medical experiment. She poked and prodded, jokingly. "Ah, jess, jess. Ve can do somptink, 'ere. I vill make you my latest creation", Tina went on as she started stripping the brunette. She continued her bad German accent while unbuttoning this and undoing that until Ginnie, a little embarrassed, stood there in her underwear. Tina took a step back, and ceased looking comical. "Wow. You're a piece, aren't you?" she mused while turning to look for an outfit. Confused, Ginnie just stood there. A what? A piece? "What do you mean I'm a piece?" she demanded. Tina was tossing clothes right and left, never looking up or turning back toward her. "I mean you're well put together. You shouldn't wear all those clothes. I mean, you've got nice boobs--like, manageable ones. All sorts of cute bras and whatnots will fit you. And you're very... womanly." Tina never turned around. "Womanly? Is that your way of saying 'fat'?", Ginnie crossed her arms in front of her and cocked a hip. Ginnie had always thought of herself as "dumpy". She was thicker than Tina, not as fit or toned, but she'd never really thought of herself positively--physically anyway. She was alright, maybe. "No, not a bit. With the right outfit--and hon, it's always about the right outfit--I bet you get a few knocks on your windowsill tonight. You wear frumpy clothes. You need to relax a little. You're pretty foxy; you just need the right look. And... HA... there we go. This is perfect", Tina spun around with something small and black. "I can't wear this anymore because I grew a few inches over the last couple of years, but this would totally fit you. On me, it looks like I'm a hooker. On you, it should be perfect. Like a junior hooker." Tina shook out the black dress. It looked harmless enough--a little tight, but otherwise it might be alright. "Are you sure?" Ginnie, "Isn't it a little... small?" Grinning from ear to ear, Tina sparkled. "Well, yeah." . . .. ... ..... "C'mon, boy... do it for me", Ginnie moaned into his ear. "C'mon, pump it faster," she pleaded with her best little girl voice, "God, it's so thick and hard. I've never seen such a big... hard... dick before." She had her face pressed against his, whispering throatily into his ear with one arm around his neck and the other clutching his collar. Her dress was up over her waist and Troy was standing there with his back up against the bathroom door while the music poured over the whole house. She felt his hands roaming around her back and dropped her hands to his, sliding them sharply to her ass. "Right there, you like that, huh? I'm getting so hot, so wet when you grab me like that." She feverishly gripped his shirt collar and occasionally nipped his ear, "Faster, boy. Please? I want you to come on me. I want to see that big... hard... dick come on me. You can do that for me, can't you?" she cooed. "Uh... hmmmm... yeah... yeah", he grunted as she lightly ground her body against his, his hand gripping and jacking his cock feverishly. Ginnie snaked her hand down around the base of his cock, and squeezed as hard as she could, "Keep stroking it, I just wanna hold it like this. Oh, God, that's hard. Mmmmm. C'mon, boy. C'mon--for me. Cum for me, faster baby. Faster." she panted into his ear. Not three minutes after she had slammed him against the bathroom door and begged for him to pull it out, Troy began bucking lightly and groaning as he came all over her tummy and down the front of the red panties Tina had picked out. "Oh, shit... oh, my fucking God." Troy was panting. Ginnie kept squeezing his cock and felt it jerking in her hand. She ran her palm up his shirt--wiping her hand off in the process--and grabbed him by the jaw, turning his head toward her and looking him right in the eye. "Mmmmmm, I liked that. Thanks." she winked. Ginnie pulled her dress down and nudged him out of the way and went back to the party--making a bee-line for Tina, who was sitting smugly on the couch in the next room over drinking a beer and trying not to laugh. The lights were psychedelic and wild and the music was so loud that between the noise and the crowd, Ginnie was on a different planet by the time she reached her friend. She sat there, breathing hard and trying not to laugh. Tina nestled up to her and dropped her head on Ginnie's shoulder. "So. I'm a little drunk. Did it work?" the redhead asked, only slurring her words a bit. Ginnie started giggling, and lowered her head so nobody else might hear. "I did everything you said. Everything. I can't believe that just happened. How is it that easy? He didn't stop me or anything." she raced on, "He just looked surprised and then pulled his thing out and I told him exactly what you said and he just did it. What the fuck?" She couldn't believe it. Tina leaned up and looked her in the eye. "Dah-ling. It's that easy. You're not hard on the eyes, and you gave him an excuse to get off. That's almost as hard as it is. And see? I told you, just put it on your terms and they're like puppies. If you'd have bent over the sink and told him to fuck you, he'd have fucked you. If you had offered to blow him, he'd have let you. But, hey, just get up in their space, flirt a little, sound sexy and confidant, and they'll do what you want. It was good for him, too." she mumbled, smiling. The Hardest Kind To Be Ch. 02 "That works all the time?" Ginnie asked, wide-eyed and curious. "Well, sure. As long as they're a little attracted to you. As long as there isn't some kind of emotional thing going on? Yeah. You treated him and his penis right, that's all they ask." Tina giggled as she sloppily dropped her beer on the coffee table. Ginnie and Tina went home early, with the brunette half-carrying the redhead back to the dorm. She had a lot to think about. Lots to wonder about. Maybe this college thing was going to be alright after all. . . .. ... ...... Thanks for reading, I'm enjoying this very different brand of story--and will be uploading the other chapters soon. If you dig it so far, and want to read more--give me some 5's and feedback. Thank you again, Joe The Hardest Kind To Be Ch. 03 It started as a joke. Only a joke. Tina was her own brand of comedy, and Ginnie liked jumping in now and again. "I feel naked", Ginne hushed through the thumping music and crowded house. "I know, its great, huh?", Tina replied in a much louder than necessary voice. "You look great, you're drawing attention away from your incredibly hot, non-lesbian date--which is an accomplishment, Ginnie my dear, because I've got these puppies up so far I can hardly breathe." Tina thumbed towards her chest--her almost too-perfect-to-be-real breasts pushed into dramatic cleavage with the black bra faintly visible through her one-size-too-small white blouse. "Me thinks I should have toned them down. Presentation, Ginnie--its all about presentation." Ginnie thought about it, presentation. By all accounts she looked better than she ever had, tonite. Tina had been a huge help with that. Make-up, colors, styles for hair, all the little things that seemed to fit just perfectly together. Ginnie usually wore looser jeans and sensible tops, she felt drab and it showed. But tonite? Oh, tonite, she felt unreal. She was curvier than Tina, by far. Where Tina's breasts were almost too large for her frame--probably why she understated them in every-day attire--Ginnie was an hourglass. The little black dress was tight in the middle, and looser around her ass and bust. The red bra, underneath, was something Tina said she got as a gift from her sort-of-boyfriend-across-the-country-now, Brandon, and was half-a-cup too small. But on Ginnie, it was doing what it was designed to do. Always self-conscious about her chest, she was flatly amazed at how picturesque she looked. She looked curvy and comfortable, she had more hips and ass than Tina did, but she felt like she was more... womanly? Was that the word Tina used? Womanly. They made their way through the party, but being freshman the only real conversations they had--first week at the school--were about how great the party was, where the alcohol was chilling, and what year they were. They stuck together most of the night, until just shy of eleven when Tina--sitting on the couch in the second den with Ginnie and two other girls they kinda knew from around the Union that past week--perked up. "Wait", she sparked as she craned her neck--as though sensing something amiss. Ginnie and the other girls just looked dumbly at her, with Tina there was no telling what this was about. The tall redhead popped up off of the couch, slammed her drink onto the table, and spun to face them with a sassy hand on her cocked hip. "This... is... my... song!", she paced her words out, going from serious to ecstatic. Ginnie couldn't tell one song from another with so many different stereos going on at once, but it hardly mattered as Tina made a beeline for the next room where people were dancing (and awfully... closely). Ginnie got up from the couch and went to the doorway as she saw Tina casually walk up to the nearest guy standing by the dancefloor. He was a short, well-built young man with a polo and khakis on, sipping something out of a red-cup and eyeballing some of the women grinding to a vaguely electronic dance-mix. She could only imagine what that conversation was like as Tina leaned over a bit and talked closely to the guy's ear. The look on his face was one of suprise and then genuine satisfaction as he nodded emphatically. Tina just smirked at him while he handed his drink to a buddy and they pushed their way through the crowd to the middle--where Ginnie couldn't see. Tina's white hat, smartly cocked over her head, bobbed up and down and then vanished. Ginnie tried standing on her tip-toes and getting closer to the dance floor to see what was going on, but she was much shorter than Tina and she couldn't make heads not tailes of anything. She inched closer and closer until she was right on the fringe of the crowd and, without warning, the mass of writhing college kids surged around her and she found herself enveloped in people. She thought about moving forward to wherever Tina was, but could hardly move. Getting bumped about, just standing there, she started backing up out of the crowd. She'd managed to moved back past a few people when she felt herself bump into something. Frustrated and a little panicked, she kept pushing back--hoping people would just move out of the way, but all of a sudden she felt very strong hands at her waist and someone grinding and rhythmically rolling against her. Ohmygodohmygodohmygod, her thoughts raced, what do I do? She half turned around, unable to entirely pull away from him--whoever him was--and saw a fairly handsome young man with a bit of stubble smiling down at her and shifting his shoulders side-to-side, still firmly gripping her around her mid-section. It was the smile that sealed it. He had the cutest smirk on him and she smiled back without thinking. That simple communication was all it took and he spun her around to face him--almost effortlessly--and pulled her so close she could smell his aftershave and cologne even above the usual dance-funk that hung in the air. He smelled good and she sighed--moreso because it was a pleasant break from the beer and bodies smell of the party. And no sooner did she sign, than the miscommunication raced forward. He got lower and lower, while they ground against each other--more his holding onto her than her holding onto him. She could feel something warm happening throughout her body. She felt flushed as this cute guy started running his hands down her back and then across her ass as he went lower and lower. She felt herself loosening up a little, getting excited and running away with the moment and began mimicking some of the gyrations of the girls around her. She spread her legs a bit and ran her hands across the back of his neck, and then into his hair. She felt his hands make their way down the back of her legs and then he shot right back up, dragging his body up with him. She felt her skirt hike up a bit and almost panicked, but he held her close and she didn't feel a draft. The music and the thumping, this cute guy swaying back and forth with her in his arms--she started gyrating against him like the girl over his shoulder did with her partner. Ginnie took a mental deep breath and turned around, backing her plump ass against his crotch and swaying it from side-to-side. She felt... him. She felt something hard and unnatural pressing against her through the denim and dress—and the only thing Ginnie could think of was how flushed her pussy felt, how absolutely horny she suddenly was. She'd never felt so hot and wanton in her whole life, he wasn't judging her or sneering or stiff and awkward, he was having as much fun as she was and all he wanted to do was grope her to the music. Something she found she wanted to. The song ended and lapsed into something slow, and the cute guy leaned in and said "Hey, thanks... that was fun. Find me later, I'm Troy" and casually made his way to a group of friends--girls and guys, who were talked about something animatedly. He didn't seem like a jerk, and his quick hello felt casual and complimentary. She was taken aback by how easy and non-threatening it all was. While she rolled it all around in her mind, walking back to the couch in the next room, she felt someone else grab her from behind and start lightly, and quickly humping her. Immediately embarassed and threatened, she spun around to see Tina there holding back some kind of laughter. She was flushed and sweaty, and the bottom four buttons of her shirt were undone, showing her pale, flat tummy. "Whoa, there, cowgirl... I thought this was anyone's ride", Tina mocked. Ginnie blushed and grabbed her by the hand. She dragged the tall redead over to the couch in the next room--now empty--and sat her down in a gigglish pow-wow. "Did you see that?", she asked with wide-eyes and a nervous smile. "Saw it? I was pissed I didn't film it! He was cute. Lookit you being all shake-it-baby-shake-it. Whose proud of you? Huh? Me. I'm proud of you.", she cooed like a mother to a baby who just ate their first spoon of creamed peas without spitting up. "So, tell me what happened." Ginnie carefully explained the whole thing. She went over every detail with clarity and excitement. She admitted to feeling "warm", and how she just let go and her whole body was tingling. Tina listened intently, smiling and nodding where appropriate. And when Ginnie talked about what Troy had said at the end, her friend interjected swiftly. "Do you still trust me?", Tina asked sincerely. "Of course! This is great!", Ginnie piped back. Tina settled into the couch and motioned for Ginnie to close in. She put on her serious face, not something common for her, and stared her pretty blue eyes right into Ginnie's. "I'm not saying have sex with him", Tina started and then quickly threw up a hand before Ginnie could freak out, "I'm not saying that. I don't think you should. But I think you should really turn the tables on him. I think he really digs you, I saw him check you out earlier and he gave you his name and everything. Don't be serious and don't get a girly crush, but I think you should make him flushed and 'warm' in your own way." "How?", the curious brunette asked. Tina crept in a bit closer. "Listen, I'm your friend--I just want to see you start this life better than you left the last one. The reason you're so elated right now is because you're finally growing into your own skin and if I'm right, then you're only going to be better and more confidant when you finally fill it out. That means no fear and taking the chances you couldn't take in high school.", Tina held Ginnie's hand and sincerely explained. "Here's what you should do. If you like him, that is, and just want to try something. Wait until he heads to the bathroom and follow him after a minute or so--he'll be wrapping up whatever. Slide right up into his personal space, like I do--you've seen it. Get right up to him, slide your hands behind his neck. Pull him down, and give him the make-out session of his life for two minutes. That's it. And while he's panting and surprised, you give him a peck on the cheek or something and walk out—don't turn around. Just be a quick fantasy for him, and leave." Tina pulled back and watched the whole image pass before Ginnie's eyes. She went from shocked, to blushed, to serious. Ginnie leaned in after a moment, intent and quiet. "What is... like... one step further. Like, up from that.", she calmly asked, holding as much of a poker-face as she could. Tina smiled, from ear to ear, and her eyes lit up. "I'll tell you. And you do whatever you want, but don't go too far. You're a rookie.", she started with a wicked grin, "Right after the make-out-session of his life, he'll be panting and aroused and in love. Slide your hand down..." "Why all the sliding?", Ginnie interjected. Tina rolled her eyes, "Its all contact--you can put your hands here and there, or you can excited every nerve between here and there by staying in contact. Anyhow. Slide your hand down his chest while you're wrapping up the kissing. Don't stop the kissing, just give him a little room to breathe here and there. Run your hand down to the front of his pants, lean your head into his neck and tell him you want to see him jack off. And tell him 'for you', always 'for you'. Tell him to do it because you want to see it. Because its a favor for you. Not him. If he resists a little, its embarrassment, not disinterest, Ginnie. Just lick his lips a little, put on a little girl voice, and beg to see it. You just want to see him do it." Ginnie was mesmerized by the directions. She was imagining the whole thing. She'd never been that direct with anyone about anything before. She didn't know if she could do it. She felt herself getting hot, tingly... wet? Just thinking about it made her so horny she couldn't breathe. Tina just leaned back and nodded at her, with a look on her face that just said "I know, I know". After a few moments to calm down, Ginnie leaned back in. The music was loud and thumping, but she didn't want anyone to hear any of this. She closed her eyes and thought of how far she had come from that awkward girl a week and year and decade ago... she nodded a bit to herself and took a deep breath. "Tina... how do I do this. I want to do this. I won't be brave enough later. Tell me exactly what to do", she asked hurriedly and hopefully. Tina smiled and patted Ginnie on the cheek. "Sweetheart, he'll be dreaming about you for the rest of his life..." . . .. ... ..... Thanks for reading my series... I've got a few more parts left to upload, and I've enjoyed the feedback so far. E-mail me with any comments you have, I kinda thrive on a little attention. This is still way off from anything I've ever written, so be kind. Joe The Hardest Kind To Be Ch. 04 Hopefully, you've read the previous parts--as some of this won't make too much sense if you haven't. Either way, the cast is eighteen and I thrive on your love and affection. Vote me well, mon ami... vote me well. . . .. ... ..... The next morning was a hazy shade of warm beery tastes lingering in the back of Ginnie's mouth. She woke with a grumpy headache and had it not been for the remarkable sight of her roommate sleeping in that pink cloud of a bed, she'd have groaned and bitched all the way out the door to the bathroom with towels and her shower basket in tow. But, Ginnie stood there, quietly and curiously. Sissy was curled up in a comforter far too fluffy for anyone's good, peacefully sleeping away what looked like a worse hangover than Ginnie had. Sissy looked the picture of a girl who had partied too hard. Her makeup was streaked, her shiny blonde hair ruffled and sticking up in strange places, and the red cocktail dress Ginnie had noticed in the girl's closet was hanging half-on and half-off while she snored lightly. All-in-all, Ginnie was most surprised by the girl even being there at all. She hadn't seen Sissy in the room at all the whole first week of classes--and had actually become accustomed to not really having a roommate at all. Curiosity gave way to exhaustion, which gave way to a desire to clean up slowly and lazily in the shower. Ginnie cocked her head to the side, for a moment, and wondered why she felt so conflicted about Sissy. She could have sworn that there was hatred for this girl a week ago; but now, she just looked at the sleeping girl with the mild curiosity of a scientist from some other planet. She was a stranger. That, she felt, was strange all by itself. Ginnie grabbed her shower basket, her robe, and a towel, and walked down the hall to the bathrooms. The dorm's bathroom was a large room with stalls and sinks on one side and a row of somewhat larger shower cubicles on the other. They were spacious and pleasantly efficient. Once you got past the idea that others were showering only a few feet from you, it was actually kind of nice to walk around and get clean without the cramped feel of showering at home. While not tall enough to see over the edge of the walls, usually, she found she could peak a bit if she stood on her tip-toes--which was more to hold a conversation with Tina than anything else. The tall redhead had a habit of asking if Ginnie was paying attention when she couldn't see her face-to-face. But, the bathroom was empty and the light echoes of her footsteps were kind of nice. No playing audience for Tina, today--she'd just be lazy and frumpy and take a long, long, long hot shower. Unlimited hot water and spacious privacy was an enticing place to recapture some of the life that had evaporated out of her with the alcohol. Ginnie ran the evening through her head a dozen times and still couldn't entirely believe she had touched Troy like that. Or said those words. Or even dressed up and went in the first place. How could it be that she'd changed so fast? She wasn't like this before coming to college (only a bit more than a week ago). Had she even really changed? Ginnie was not much for existential questioning, her mind was a little more practical, and the idea that she didn't know who she even was just annoyed her in that "I'm being silly" kind of way. But, she liked drifting back to Troy. And what she had done to him. She didn't feel powerful, per se, but she felt something. Ginnie turned the scene over and over in her mind. The way he smelled, which made her flutter just thinking about it. He smelled clean and earthy--like fresh leather or something. It made her warm imagining his hands sliding all over her backside, taking their own joy in her. She felt attractive. Not powerful, so much as desirable. Her face was red and she could feel herself getting a little warm down between her thighs. What an effect this steamy shower was having on her! She walked cautiously over to the door and stood on her tip-toes. Looking right. Looking left. Straining to listen. And satisfied she heard nobody, she went back toward the shower and quietly bit her lip and tried going back to the night before. The smell of him, like a man--she supposed that was what men were supposed to smell like. And how strong he felt, how he grabbed her and how his lips were a little rough, but hers were very soft. She thought about how the muscles in his neck strained when she pulled him over to kiss her. How she could hear him breathing heavy, and how his short hair felt in her hands. And then, with her own hands running soapily down her breasts and over her tummy, down to the place that was almost throbbing with demanded attention... she remembered what he felt like through his pants. How he felt hard and unreal. She remembered that when it came out it looked so big, like it would never fit her--like it might hurt her, but she recalled being more excited by that than scared of it. She could see him touching himself and she heard herself saying those words that Tina gave her. And while she pictured Troy jerking himself off to her pleas and moans, she slid one wet finger between her folds and started slowly stroking into herself--slow, like he was doing it, and then faster and faster as she imagined it all. But her imagination started wavering with her own need to cum, and instead of her telling him to touch himself and go faster and faster, she was picturing a different night altogether. She imagined Troy turning her around against the door instead of him, and pressing himself against her as snugly as she had pressed against him. She could smell him near her and hear him whispering in her ear instead. She imagined him holding onto her tightly, telling her to bring herself off for him. She could hear his voice saying it. "C'mon, baby... rub that little pussy for me." Oh, the thought of him making her pull her skirt up and finger herself for his pleasure made her knees weak and brought stars to her eyes as her own orgasm drew a shuddering and satisfying "mmm" from her lips. She'd been trying to stay quiet, but she felt wave after wave come over her and she couldn't keep her silence with how hard she was cumming from imagining Troy watching her, forcing her, wanting her... desiring her that way. "God, that's hot." She could hear him complimenting her between gasps for air as the stars subsided, as she leaned against the shower stall with the hot water washing over her. "You are the sexiest fucking bitch ever." Ginnie froze. That wasn't her imagination. And in sheer terror, she realized there was a guy in the stall next to her. Her blood went cold and eyes went wide, she stood there motionless and petrified. Oh, oh my God, she thought to herself, ohmygodohmygodohmygod... "Mmmmm, don't stop. Please don't stop. C'mon, baby... don't tease me like that." the voice in the stall next to her said. Panting and shocked, Ginnie stood there, she was dripping wet and so turned on by the idea that Troy would be watching her touch herself, she felt herself getting heady about the idea of this strange guy doing the same. She was still breathing hard, and her hand was still clutched between her legs--she started massaging herself, slowly. "Oh, that's it. Just like that." the voice moaned. She could imagine him touching himself on the other side of that wall, and she took a deep breath and shook her head... oh, if he's seen this much so far, what's the harm, she thought. She started rubbing herself up and down, grazing her clit each time and she closed her eyes and listened. "C'mon, baby, faster... a little faster." And, Ginnie smiled to herself as she drew her fingers up and down over her pussy quicker and quicker. "Make it nice and wet, baby, I'm almost there. Keep going, oh, you're the sexiest fucking thing." the voice moaned. Ginnie picked up the pace and threw a hand out to brace herself against the shower stall as her fingers flew over her throbbing clit, twitching faster and faster. She could feel herself start to go, and she wanted so badly to cum. "That's it, oh God damn, that's just right. I'm so close." the voice groaned out into the bathroom. Ginnie's eyes were clenched shut, her hand furiously bringing her off on the biggest orgasm she felt she'd ever had, and at that last little bit--the point where she knew she couldn't hold back as her wrist ached and her pussy felt like it was on fire, she said "I'm cumming... for you..." and the world exploded into lights and darks and all the air went out of her and she slid to the floor. Her body twitching and her thighs pressed tightly together as her body felt light and her pussy quivered. In the steam and the showering water and the aftershocks and the coming-back-down... she could hear the oddest thing, vague and in the distance. "Oh shit, I think there's someone here, babe." the guy said, "Um, hello?" "Shhh, don't talk, I'm so busted for this." a girl whispered. "Babe, I think we're too late for that, there's someone in the stall right over there", he said unabashedly. "I thought you turned on that shower so nobody would go in there", she whispered back. "Uhh, no... I thought you did that one, I did the other one." he dumbly responded. "Shit", she hushed, "Well... shit." A cloud of steam hung lazily in the air and Ginnie turned bright red. She'd been so wrapped up in thinking about Troy she hadn't noticed anyone coming in. She hadn't noticed the sound of another shower over the shower pouring over her head. She hadn't even noticed that there were two people next door. She was flushed with embarrassment, and a little shame. She just, oh God, she just brought herself off to some guy and said... things. She could have died of embarrassment right then and there, her mind racing back and forth over whether she should just sneak away while they were occupied in there. She did NOT want to come face-to-face with him or her. This might have been the most awkward moment of her whole life. Or it would have been until the girl piped up. "Listen, chickie...? Are you there? Look, I realize this is a little fucked up, but I think I'd rather offer to do your laundry for a year than get busted on this one." she heard a familiar voice from the stall next to her. "...T-Tina?" she sheepishly asked into the wall. A pause. And another pause. "Darling, we have to stop meeting like this." the redhead replied from the other side of the wall, in an amused voice that made everything alright, "And, no, I'm not doing your laundry. But would you like to meet Charles? Charles? That's Ginnie over there, Ginnie this is Charles over here." "Um... hi, Ginnie." the boy muttered. Ginnie started giggling, then laughing, then outright guffawing at the situation. Here she was sitting, on the floor of a bathroom stall, after having the most intense orgasm of her short life to the moans and pleasure-wracked sounds of a boy that was getting "serviced" by her best friend in the whole world. She could hear Tina laughing with her, and Charles nervously chuckling to himself. "Well, uh... babe? What do you think? Like..." she could hear Charles trying to whisper to Tina. "No, no, I'm afraid the mood has been broken, chum", Tina—still chuckling--replied in that matter-of-fact way of hers, "But, this does represent a new concern over being caught." "Oh, please, I'm not going to te--", Ginnie started before being cut-off." "Honey, I'm not worried about you blabbing. I'm worried about the other girls waking up and coming to get showered. Me thinks I didn't think my clever plan all the way through. Hrmmmmmm." Tina said. A few awkward moments passed in the thickly steamed up shower. "O.k., here's the plan chaps. I'm going to go outside and see if the coast is clear. Ginnie, if you'll keep Charles company. Charles, please stay put. I'll come back when the sneaking can begin." Tina raked off the agenda. Ginnie could hear the shower door opening and closing and found herself sitting there, thinking about an uncomfortable and unsatisfied Charles next door. They listened to the water fall and waited for Tina to return. After a few minutes of earth shattering silence, it was the naked guy next door that spoke up. "So, um... sorry about us makin' noise over here." he apologized into the steam and over the wall. "Oh, well. No, that's alright. I mean, I kinda ruined the mood, really." she politely replied. Another few minutes passed by and the bathroom was starting to grow into a captured fog-bank. "So, were you... like, y'know. Over there?" he asked. Ginnie blushed to herself, glad the visibility was hindered by both walls and clouds. "Maybe. Yeah. God, that's embarrassing." she blurted out, "What were... you know, you two doing?" At this, the awkwardness started to melt away; they were two very nervous teenagers in a very strange and funny situation. They were united in a common orgasmic enterprise and could acknowledge that. "Well, she was going down on me. I didn't realize I was making so much noise though." he laughed to himself and her, "And until you said something, I really didn't think anyone was here." "Yeah, me neither. Until you started talking, I mean." she replied. "So, were you touching yourself... like, to me?" he asked. Ginnie thought about saying "no". But, really, what would Tina do in this situation? She'd be honest. Because it sounded better and shame was for the weak--that's what she'd say. "Yeah. I met a guy last night and I was thinking about him again, this morning. And then I started imagining him talking, because he didn't last night. And then I realized I wasn't imagining it, and it was really you. And then, I kinda thought you were..." she paused and took a deep breath, "...watching me and egging me on to keep going." "Like, peeping at you in the shower?" he asked. "Exactly. Like peeping at me in the shower. And I just kinda thought you were giving me directions. This is really embarrassing to talk about, by the way." she smiled to herself as she blabbered on and on. "Well... did you, y'know... finish?" he meekly questioned. "Um... I don't know. Like, I did--but not all the way, because we got interrupted." she admitted. "Oh.", he said simply. A moment passed between them and Ginnie thought she knew where this was going. And for the life of her, she couldn't figure out how she felt about that. "She's taking a long time; do you think she'll be back soon?" Charles pondered openly, "I mean, maybe she got tied up with someone or something." "Mmmm-maybe", Ginnie felt herself grin, waiting for the inevitable. "So, would you like to... maybe let me watch you? That'd help me out, too, because we got stopped, y'know?" he tried sounding very cool and casual about it. Like masturbating to some random girl in a dorm shower was just a matter of etiquette. She let him hang on that last question. She let him hang there for several moments, reveling in how turned on he must be by the hope of this. "Well, I guess that'd be o.k. Should I come over there? Do you want to come over here?" she felt her voice going back to that innocent girl voice from the night before. "Oh, it doesn't matter. Um, but I'd like to leave this stall, if that's alright", he nervously replied. Ginnie ran her hands back through her hair, repositioned herself sitting there under the shower with one leg straight and the other bent sexily at the knee and leaned a bit over to cover her sex. She arched her back a bit and put on her best "Come hither" look as she waited for this boy to come through the door. With only a latch and no lock, they weren't exactly high-security. The latch slid out of place and young man about Ginnie's height came in with a towel around his waist. He was hairy, but not overly so. His dark hair and dark chest hair wisped nicely over a tanned body. He had muscles, and he was handsome in a very Italian way. Charles stood there and drank in the sight of this naked woman waiting for him, and as he looked at her body--up from her tits and down her legs, barely making eye contact--Ginnie could see his towel tenting out. They smiled at each other and she took control of the situation. "Hi, Charles. So, how do you want me?" she looked up with her best doe-eyes. He coughed nervously and felt awkward standing there--unsure of what to say. "Oh, um... however", he tried to sound reserved and at ease. Ginnie didn't know what was coming over her. Was she just some repressed slut or something? A prostitute in a former life? Was Tina rubbing off THAT much on her? "So, this is fine?" she purred as she slid her legs apart, keeping one hand over her pussy. "Um... well, yeah, that's fi--", he started to say. "Or would you like me like this better?", she raised her eyebrows like a little girl asking for approval as she turned over onto her knees--hand still between her legs--and leaned forward with the other hand against the shower wall. The view of her ass pushed out and swaying side-to-side almost made Charles explode right there. Her wet body was glistening, flush with the heat and steam of the shower and her own rapidly intensifying desire. She wanted to cum for this boy; she wanted him to remember her just like this for the rest of his life. She wanted him to touch himself and think about this moment. To touch other women, and think of her. "That's... wow." was all he could manage. "Mmmmmm, I like this. Thank you for suggesting it, Charles. This feels sooooo much better." she cooed at him over her shoulder, "Don't touch anything until I'm done, baby. Come over here and talk to me a little. Please? Tell me how much you like this? I need you to tell me." Charles almost stumbled over his own feet rushing down onto the shower floor on his knees. This beautiful girl, curvy and wanton, was pleading for him to appreciate her. And he did. "You're the sexiest thing ever." he told her--and found he meant it, "This is the most unbelievable shit... you're gorgeous." She realized quickly he wasn't going to be telling her what to do--which is what she wanted. He was going to ogle her and that was alright, too. This time. She was so hot from the thought of this boy admiring her pussy and watching her cum that it didn't take very long before her breathing became labored and she felt her own orgasm start to build. Charles noticed, too. She started going into her own little world and he watched her arch and bow her back up and down, up and down, while her fingers ground against her clit. He watched in open amazement as this girl brought herself to a panting, yelping, twitching orgasm right in front of him--for him. Ginnie gasped as her body crashed over and over in a powerful orgasm--several times in a row. She stayed there, panting and murmuring to herself, on all fours. Trying to catch her breath, and trying to open her eyes. Feeling the tingling in her toes and neck and everywhere. It was a few moments before she realized Charles was even there. She turned her head and saw him kneeling there next to her, and saw him touching himself to the sight of her cumming. He looked so different in the steamy haze than Troy had been. Where Troy was tall and fair, Charles was shorter and darker. Troy was lean and Charles was stocky. Troy had been so large, in her mind, and Charles's cock was more modest. It barely filled his hand as he jacked himself off to the sight of this girl, sway-backed and on all fours, panting and starting wide-eyed at his penis. Ginnie looked at it, and then him, and she saw him look a little nervous. She just looked right back down and leaned forward as he removed his hand and she slid his cock all the way into her mouth. She closed her eyes and stopped thinking about everything but making this man cum for her. Making him climax hard and bring him pleasure like his watching her brought her. The Hardest Kind To Be Ch. 04 She ran one hand up between his legs, over his swollen balls, and pulled her soft mouth off his cock long enough to hold it. She liked it a lot, she found. It was hard and smooth, and where Troy's had been intimidating and a little scary--Charles' was inviting. She lowered her mouth over it again and found that he twitched and jumped in her mouth every time she took him all the way to the back of her throat. She played with it, with her tongue. She felt it throb between her lips. She could hear him moaning in appreciation and groaning in need. She felt him tighten up, his body tensing--she knew he was close by the sounds he was trying to muffle. She could taste him, clean and a little salty. She felt his cock get very hard, very quickly, as a hand gripped into her hair behind her head. And with a thrust, she felt him push his dick into her little mouth and start jerking and jumping while he came. The first spurt almost filled her mouth and the second and third was just too much. She gagged a bit, and he moaned lightly at that. She held on, with his cock buried in her mouth until he stopped jerking and started breathing again. She withdrew slowly, licking and tasting him, delicately running her tongue all over him. And with a little, sweet kiss on the tip. She pulled away and looked him in the eye. Charles knelt there panting and wide-eyed. His mind racing. He looked at her like she was the most amazing creature God put on this earth. And she smiled. She crawled over and stood up in front of him. He looked up at her admiringly, drinking in the sight of this wet, naked girl in front of him. He got up and she slipped her arms around his neck and kissed him gently--not lustfully or deeply, just nicely. "Charles?" she pulled back and looked him in the eye. "Uh... yeah. Hi. Hey." he didn't know what to say. "You're a very sexy guy, that was very hot." she said. She looked him right in the eye and he felt part of him melt away. "Thanks, Ginnie. I mean, you're incredible. I never--", he started before she cut him off. "Shhhh, it's alright. I enjoyed that. I'm sure Tina did, too. But you can't get too attached to either of us." she assured him. "No, no... That's cool." he seemed a bit disappointed. They stood there in each other's arms for a few more minutes before Tina came back. If the redhead thought it strange that they had magically ended up in the same stall together, she wasn't acting like it. She smiled and smirked a lot and the two girls helped Charles smuggle right out of the dorm. They waved him goodbye, and he no doubt was running back to his room to tell all the guys about a morning they wouldn't believe. As they stood there in the early morning stillness of campus, Tina was the first to speak up. "There's nothing finer, dah-ling, than a well-blown man running like he just stole something." she said almost wistfully before both girls broke down to giggling. "I liked it. I think he did, too." Ginnie managed after a few minutes. "Oh, I'm sure he did. You realize we just shared a guy by a time span of maybe five minutes, right? Are you aware of how close to a threesome that is?" Tina asked incredulously. "Oh, no its not." Ginnie rolled her eyes. "Oh, yes... very close. Ginnie, you dirty slut, I'm not going to do you. You really have to stop asking." Tina grinned--still looking off into the distance. "I think you're a closet lesbo." Ginnie said as frankly as she could--trying not to smile. "That's because you're a stupid, stupid girl, honey. But I love you anyway." Tina threw an arm around Ginnie and they walked back to the dorm to find breakfast and plan the day. . . .. ... ..... Thanks for reading, this is sort of a different project for me--outside of my usual genre... 5's and feedback are appreciated, thanks for reading. Joe