The Tolerant
Chapter One
DJ and Brittney made it back to the dorm in the dead of night. Things were good and quiet; many residents wouldn’t return until tomorrow, and by this hour, even the ones who were here were in bed for the night. DJ kissed her goodnight and left her to return to her own room down the hall, crawling into a bed all by himself for the first time in what felt like a very long time.
He didn’t wake up until after noon. Having never liked eating alone (even though it had been a common part of his day-to-day for much of his life), he roused her in the morning to take her to breakfast. Her roommate and fellow hottie Mercedes was back, standing wrapped in a towel after a recent return from the shower. While Brittney got dressed, DJ tugged it down and took a good eyeful. She was as smoking hot as he’d figured; a curvy but lithe Latina built for salsa dancing; he remembered her saying she loved doing so during the introductory floor meeting.
Someday soon he’d need to have her give him a demonstration, once he had a good outfit picked out for it.
“So, like, you guys are a couple now or something?” she asked as he flicked her butt repeatedly, testing its firmness. The question was directed to Brittney, in a tone that sounded like she was asking if Brittney had decided to shave her head.
Brittney smiled at him sweetly. “Yeah, looks like. We had a lot of fun over fall break.”
“I’ll say,” he said, smiling back a moment before helping himself to a caress up and down Mercedes’ smooth, tawny thighs.
Brittney pulled on a pair of comfy black leggings and slid her feet into some comfy boots. “Ready.”
DJ stood up and took a nipple in his mouth, giving a quick suck and nibble before releasing her. “Cool. See ya, Mercedes.”
He opened the door, gallantly letting Brittney out first; Scott, another resident on the floor, was walking by with his shower caddy, and gaped at the naked girl. She put her hands on her hips furiously. “Get the fuck out of here, pervert!” He practically jumped down the hallway, and Mercedes shook her head at the nerve of him, peeping on her. “Later, DJ, later B.”
The dining hall was pretty well-populated, but he skipped to the front of the line to see what they had prepared. He was really in the mood for a late breakfast, so, having grown somewhat accustomed to having Morgan around to wait on him hand and food, DJ found a cafeteria worker and had him get to work on custom-making him his breakfast. He offered to let Brittney take similar advantage, but she declined, grabbing a cup of non-fat yogurt and an orange.
They were mid-way through the meal, sitting in awkward silence (DJ was yet to find anything she had to talk about that was of interest to him). The TV in the corner was blaring an interview with some obnoxious politician, and that only made the silence worse. He wished he’d ordered less.
Then Ashley Vandoren appeared.
She didn’t even have food; she just made her way over and sat down beside him, ignoring Brittney’s presence across the table except for an acknowledging glance as she sat down. “Heya, asshole,” she said casually.
“Oh, hi Ashley,” he said. Even a week of torrid sex with scads of attractive women didn’t undo his lifelong reflex to be awkward when approached unexpectedly by a pretty girl. And Ashley was that, even in the simple t-shirt and jeans she’d worn to breakfast, her dark red hair in its usual thick poofy mane that communicated both a lack of interest in grooming and a lack of need for it at the same time.
He caught Brittney looking curiously, and introduced her. “This is Brittney. She lives on my floor.” Oddly, he still felt weird introducing her as his girlfriend sometimes.
“Should I be jealous?” she asked, not even looking toward the other girl. He just gave her a questioning look. “Are you fucking her,” Ashley clarified, speaking slowly.
“He sure is. I went home with him for break.” Brittney chimed in. It wasn’t catty; she sounded perfectly cheerful about it, in fact.
“How about you? How was your break?” he interjected, trying to shift away from the awkward topic at hand. Having a girl dominate a conversation felt strange now. He needed to get his mind right.
“Boring as fuck, like always. Don’t change the subject, asshole. Damn, most guys would be stoked for a chance to brag about nailing a piece of tail like that. Didja keep it good and kinky? Nail her with the curtains open for the neighbors? Sneak in a good night blowjob in the back seat parked in the driveway?”
“Oh, nothing so exotic as that—just fucked a girl in the ass while she ate her out, then on the roof during a big party, then fucked a half dozen other girls right in front of her,” he said evenly.
Ashley laughed, clearly taking it as a joke. “A man can dream, right Deej?”
Talking about it helped make him mindful of it. These were the things he had done. Could do now. Whenever he wanted. His confidence surged back as his new reality asserted itself. “Dream, nothing. If I wanted a blowjob from her right now, we’d do it.”
Her smile slowly faded as she took stock of his earnest tone. “Yeah, and get tossed out on your ass.”
“Nobody throws me out.”
She looked back and forth between him and Brittney, him staring seriously, her smiling pleasantly. “Put up or shut up.”
He smirked. “What’s in it for me?”
“Well, I’m pretty sure getting arrested, but even if you got some kind of connection like you seem to think you do, you get a blowjob out of it.”
“I could have that anyway. You want to watch, you got to ante up.”
“I got squat for cash on hand.”
He drummed his fingers. “You know I don’t want your money.”
She gave him an innocent look he was almost certain was feigned. Almost. “So you’re saying you want my...” With masterful subtlety, she shifted her posture and her arm placement just so, and suddenly it was impossible to look at her and not be aware of those stupendous tits of hers, even in the simply baggy t-shirt. “...what, exactly?”
“There’s a long answer to that question, but I’d settle for your shirt.”
She smiled coyly. “But she has to do it to completion, or you get nothing.” Brittney just sat by, listening as she took another tiny bite of her yogurt.
“Deal.” DJ supposed if he wanted Ashley’s shirt he could have just reached out and taken it, but he had to admit that her way was more fun. He turned to Brittney. “All right, babe. I need you to earn me that shirt.”
“You’re sure we can’t go back to your room and do it? Or mine? Mercedes screws around with guys while I’m in the room all the time, so she totally owes me.” Even as she said it, though, she was getting up and coming around the table.
“Oh come on, you got a gift—you should be proud of it. Show it off.”
She smiled at his compliment as she sank to a crouch in front of him. Ashley moved to the far end of the long table—probably figuring she didn’t want to be culpable in this when campus security inevitably arrived—but was still close enough for a good intimate view. “Wow, not even trying to be sneaky about it, going under the table. Ballsy, Deej. Stupid, but ballsy.”
DJ dropped his pants to his ankles, and Brittney immediately got to work. It occurred to him he hadn’t had a full blowjob from her since that first night together, before break; as she lovingly licked and kissed his cock to hardness, he wanted to kick himself for neglecting the opportunity.
As ever eager to please, Brittney unabashedly took his cock into her mouth and blew him. No, that wasn’t even it—she made love to his cock. Well no, that was still wrong. It was like making love, but with her mouth. It was affectionate and needful and eager and... kind, somehow. He was fast becoming an expert on blowjobs, but he was yet to meet a girl who put her heart into it like good ol’ Brittney Jenner.
Ashley, meanwhile, seemed to be the only one in the cafeteria staring. She wasn’t at first—the two were being so obvious she didn’t think they’d make it ten seconds before people started screaming or flashing pictures. Still, nobody seemed to object to the scene unfolding in the cafeteria. It was clearly in people’s peripheral, but nobody intervened.
(A few guys were sneaking occasional looks at the way Brittney’s crouched position beautifully displayed her ass in those leggings, but still, they did no more than look.)
With nobody objecting to the face-fucking down the table from her, Ashley was sufficiently turned on watching (and knowing what seemed to be about to befall her) that she snuck a hand down her pants and teased her pussy. The jeans made it kind of a nuisance, but still, a whorish display like the one this blonde was putting on merited more than one orgasm. Besides, who would notice her with that going on.
Minutes passed without interruption; Ashley had sucked enough dicks to be able to see on his face when he was getting close. He seemed to notice it right around the same moment, and locked eyes with her. “Babe, I’m getting close.”
“Mmmmf fmmfmm,” she said enthusiastically around a mouthful of dick.
“I want to cum on your tits.”
Their observer failed to suppress a moan. He was going to spray this bitch’s tits, and as Ashley watched, the girl obediently lifted the sheer white top at the waist until the whole of her bra was showing. Impressively, she didn’t miss a beat in her impassioned blowjob as she did so, not even when she unclasped the bra—it was a front-clasp, luckily for her, luckily for his quality of blowjob—and let her bare tits out into the air.
With timing that bespoke much of how well this girl must know DJ’s dick, she pulled her mouth back off of him and smiled brightly, pumping his cock for not even two seconds before the first jet of cum spurted out and splashed across her boobs. Several more followed before he was spent, and then she leaned down and sucked him clean, nuzzling it with her cheeks and nose like she wanted some after-mouth-sex cuddling from it.
Her task complete, the girl stood and went back to her side of the table. The sight of DJ’s wet, naked cock, this girl topless and cum-coated in front of the whole cafeteria... it was too much, and Ashley came with an unbidden shout, thighs clenching as her pussy seized on the finger that had been teasing it.
An older woman in a hair net came over in a hurry in response to it. “Miss!” she said reprovingly. “What you were doing is incredibly inappropriate! You need to leave, right now, before I call campus security.”
Startled, Ashley as she pulled the hand back out of her pants. “You’re fucking kidding, right?”
The woman had difficult making eye contact with her. “Public indecency is not something I take lightly. Would your parents be proud if they got a call that you were caught... behaving like this?” She couldn’t make herself speak the words that described so indecent an act.
“The girl over there just blew that guy in plain sight—she’s still got her tits out, covered in his jizz! And you wanna yell at me for a little finger-play! I didn’t even take any clothes off!”
“That’s it, I’m calling security,” the woman said, retrieving her cell phone from a pocket.
Then she heard DJ, who was now standing right behind her. “There’s no need for that,” he said reassuringly, taking her phone from her hand and putting it back in her pocket. “I put her up to it.”
The woman looked at him consideringly, then back to Ashley, her glare returning. “Well, I know how you kids get, and I suppose there’s no harm in it, but still, she shouldn’t be doing that.” Still, she didn’t reach for the phone again.
“Well, I’m sad to say it, but we made a bet, and she’s got to give me her shirt.”
Ashley turned to look at him. “What! You lost the bet! Somebody came out to complain!”
“About you. Not us.”
“Which... why!”
“I got a way with people.” DJ shrugged. “You don’t mind if my friend here is topless and jizz-covered in your dining room, right?” he asked the woman.
“Well, I certainly don’t approve of it, but... well, it’s not worth getting in a snit over, I suppose. Still, she ought to be ashamed of herself.”
“Yeah, thanks for the perspective. Now would you mind leaving me and my friends alone?” He took the woman’s shoulders and spun her around, then gave her a firm prod back toward the kitchens. She looked over her shoulder balefully as she shuffled off.
Ashley stared at him in wonderment. “I... don’t get it.”
“You don’t need to. Now you owe me something.” He pointed at her chest.
Her coy smile returned. “Well, I suppose I do at that.” She took a moment to untuck her t-shirt and remove her glasses, then pulled it off over her head and handed it to him. He stared at his prize, the twin Tetons of Ashley Vandoren, bulging shamelessly out of a D-cup bra that was clearly not up to its monumental charge. She put the glasses back on, resuming the visage of the hot nerd girl in her thick-framed specs.
Brittney, in the meantime, had finished her breakfast (most of it—a whole cup of non-fat yogurt was evidently too much for her figure), and sat down on the table beside them, her own bare tits glistening in the cafeteria’s fluorescent light. It took DJ a moment to notice. “Hey, Brit, if you wanna clean up and head out, feel free.”
“Oh, you’re sure you don’t wanna come back to the room, have some more fun?” She smiled hopefully. DJ supposed he’d left her hanging, but... whatever, she had hands. She could take care of herself.
“Nah, I’m sure you have shit to do to get ready for classes tomorrow and stuff, right? But I’ll see you around later.”
She pouted but acquiesced. She used their napkins to sponge the spooge off of her chest, then lowered her shirt back into place. She gave him a quick peck on the cheek before leaving, and his eyes followed her round, jiggling posterior until it was out of sight.
Meanwhile, Ashley drummed her fingers on the table, waiting for the bitch to skedaddle. Much like the blowjob scene that had unfolded earlier, nobody seemed to think much of the sight of a big-titted redhead with her shirt off. “OK, you gotta tell me. What gives.”
He looked at her askance. “So... this seems odd to you?”
“You’re fucking kidding me, right? You just had some hottie blow you in the middle of the cafeteria and nobody seemed to give a fuck. And right now, I can feel a hundred eyes on me, but that troll from the kitchen isn’t doing shit about it. Your daddy buy the college a new library without me hearing of it?”
“My dad’s dead,” he non-answered.
“Well that rules that out.” She waited expectantly.
He was unsure how to proceed. He was sure people could notice he had his special ability, or whatever it was. He’d proven it with Derek and Rachael weeks back, making his friend’s little sister bend over his lap and beg for a good hard spanking, right after declaring it was something they would never ever do. Derek had conceded that his friend had some kind of power, and it was clear from the look in his eyes that he meant it.
DJ had even wondered if some of the others had noticed. Morgan had stopped pushing back against him and accepted events with surprising ease; his farewell with Lauren, Jody and Brianne had felt like the girls expected him to do whatever he wanted, unlike how each of the girls had initially resisted. Still, that had been after several exposures. Brittney... sweet, innocent, dim-witted little Brittney didn’t seem to have a clue, and she’d had more opportunity to notice something awry than anyone.
Perhaps he could undo it? He saw down, straddling the bench right next to her. “Well, think about it. What would you do if I pulled your head down into my lap right now and put my cock in your mouth?”
Her pale skin flushed a bit. “I’d suck you off so good you’d forget that blonde bitch ever existed.” She smiled thinly.
Hot, but doesn’t help answer anything. “All right, sit right here.” He stood up; she looked shocked (and perhaps somewhat offended) that he’d shrugged off her suggestion so lightly. He walked across the cafeteria to where a couple girls had just entered. Nobody Ashley knew. It was too far away to hear what he said, but one frowned like she was annoyed, the other just looking a bit nervous.
Then, they turned their backs to him and bent over, first one then the other. DJ delivered a half dozen smacks to each; they were audible even all the way across the room, but they seemed to be more about volume than pain, as the girls hardly reacted. People glanced at the source of the noise, then reacted for a half-second before looking away complacently. As people entered, they did a double-take at the freshman girls being spanked inside the entryway, but walked on by. Here and there someone stopped to stare or glance casually. There were no other reactions.
Meanwhile, she could see more and more people turning to look at her sitting there in her lacy blue bra with wide eyes, blushing and looking away when they saw her looking back.
Then DJ stopped and walked back over to her. The confused girls rubbed tender buttocks and proceeded to get their lunch. People quit looking at her as he sat back down.
“So, did any of that seem unusual to you?”
“That you just fucking spanked two girls in plain view of a hundred people and no one batted an eyelash? Um, yeah.”
“Unusual how?”
“What do you mean, ‘unusual how’? How is any of this NOT unusual?”
“Well, nobody else seemed to find it unusual.”
She pounded a fist on the table in frustration. “That’s what makes it so fucking unusual, asshole!”
DJ considered. She’d bet him someone would notice his exploits, so she’d been watching with that expectation; when no one did, perhaps it had jarred something loose, the same way a forced contradiction had worked on Derek and Rachael? He couldn’t be sure.
Either way, it was one more reason—beyond the two incredible reasons sitting there on her chest—to keep her close. DJ figured he may as well be honest; he couldn’t think of a lie that would explain it anyway.
“You see, I... have a power.” It felt weird to say aloud. “I can do anything I want to anyone, and they just... tolerate it.”
“What do you mean, ‘tolerate it’?” She eyed him askance.
“I mean they just let me do it. Sometimes they complain a little, sometimes they just play along, but they let me do it. It’s... well, it’s like a traffic jam. Some people turn up their music and jam, some people honk their horns and scream themselves hoarse, but everybody puts up with it, ’cause what ya gonna do.”
“But then what about that girl, Bethany? Is she a special walking traffic jam too?”
“It’s ‘Brittney.’ And no. But when I’m involved, people seem to just let the outrageous happen. Like how nobody’s worried about your hot-ass self sitting here with no shirt on. I don’t know if there’s like a... range? I dunno. It just happened to me a few weeks ago.”
Ashley processed a moment. “So... is this how you managed that thing with me and that other RA, the stuck-up one, in the lounge?”
He nodded. “Yeah. That was actually kind of the first I realized it. I... I honestly thought that was a dream when it was happening, one of those dreams where you’re in control?”
“Lucid dream, yeah.”
“Yeah. We were just doing rounds, and... you didn’t seem to mind, right?”
“What? Fuck no. But then... well, in case you haven’t noticed, I kind of get off on being seen in the act.”
He smiled. “Yeah, I sorta picked up on that. Speaking of...” DJ hooked a hand under each of Ashley’s thighs and lifted her up, depositing her back on his lap. He rested his hands on her generously ample ass.
“Hey, this wasn’t part of the bet, asshole,” she chastised teasingly.
“Well, what’re you gonna do about it?” he replied, caressing her butt in the tight jeans.
She rubbed her breasts against his chest. “Well, to hear you tell it, I have no choice but to ‘tolerate it,’ right?” She giggled.
He nestled his face into her inviting cleavage. “So you believe me?”
Ashley shrugged. “I don’t know what I believe. What you’re saying sounds insane.”
He grinned. “Well, let’s put us both to the test then.”
She playfully pulled her breasts apart, then released them and let them slap him in the head. “How so?”
Ashley didn’t know what to make of this crazy power DJ seemed to have, but she had been made a believer. On their way out of the cafeteria she’d tried to reclaim her shirt, but he’d thrown it in the trash, then dumped his food tray on top of it. So that was out. She’d followed him out of the dorm and into the parking lot, to his car, and drove all the way across town without anyone seeming to take note of her toplessness.
It was exhilarating.
Most people had their kinks, she knew, and everyone took them to different levels. Her first serious boyfriend hadn’t been able to get off unless he was aiming at her chest. Ashley had once walked in on her sister doing some role play with her girlfriend. One of her good friends in high school had this thing about having her eyeballs licked. For Ashley, it was fooling around in public.
It was a damned inconvenient one to have, to be sure. Lots of kinks were the sorts of things that could be quietly explored in the comfort and security of one’s bedroom, and if it made one party feel awkward, at least it was good and private and no one would ever have to find out. It was exciting but totally risk-free beyond those annoying little fears of rejection, and Ashley had no such fears. If a guy didn’t want what she wanted, he was the wrong guy so she curbed him and moved on.
Fear of rejection was apparently tougher for people to conquer than fear of getting arrested or caught on tape.
She’d entertained a few weirdnesses from the beefier sex, same as most girls, yet she’d always struggled to find a guy who shared her particular thrill. It was hard. In fact, to date, it had been impossible. There was no set profile; nothing guaranteed that some idiot dude-bro who’d bang anything with a cunt was going to risk doing so publicly, nor a promise that some shy geek would be so excited to be propositioned by a cute girl that he wouldn’t panic at the thought of a surreptitious handjob in a dark theater. Likewise, she wasn’t a fucking whore; she wasn’t going to hop on the internet and start looking for some random stranger advertising they wanted to fuck a girl on a park bench.
After so many guys rebuffing her on it, she’d gotten sensitive about it. She’d managed to talk that idiot jock Charlie into fucking her in the lounge, and that had taken so many blowjobs leading up to it that she’d figured—correctly—that no guy would be willing to give up that steady stream, even if it meant potentially getting cited. She’d practically unhinged her jaw enticing him into it. Afterwards he wouldn’t do it again, though she suspected being kicked out pre-orgasm and having his girlfriend fingered by his RA on camera hadn’t helped.
She’d been thinking a lot about that on the drive this afternoon. Had she let him do it because of this so-called power of his? She’d never liked him, ever since that incident when he wrote her up last year. She’d enjoyed giving him shit since then, reminding him girls with great tits out-ranked power-tripping RAs by a wide margin. But she had wanted to get off in front of an audience, too. So which was it, the power, or her own kink?
“Lead me—it’s your show,” DJ said as they exited his car. Damn nice one too—the little green hybrid looked brand new. Not that she’d give him the satisfaction of oohing and aahing over his little eco-dick-extension.
Ashley took his hand and lead him into the library.
The town’s public library was a fairly new building, and a good library as such things went. She’d worked here at this lame-ass job as a library aid for her first two years of college until a nosy bitch co-worker had found her weed in her backpack and ratted her out to their manager. She hadn’t missed the job; if she had a nickel for every pencil-necked geek who tried to live out his sexy librarian fantasies through her, she’d have enough for a can of Coke and still have change to spare.
Like in the cafeteria, people did a double-take when they saw the chesty girl striding into the library without a shirt on, her pallid breasts on display in her electric blue lacy bra, but no one commented, no one interfered. She stepped to block the path of a middle-aged woman on her way out and shimmied her boobs theatrically in front of her, just to see what she’d do. The woman frowned like she’d encountered a puddle she didn’t know how to get around, then scurried on out once Ashley gave way to a fit of the giggles and let her by.
“This is the fucking shit!” she exclaimed, turning to kiss DJ impulsively.
He was grinning at her as she released him. “It gets better.”
“A guy who’s only had his fingers in me that I’m gonna let get his whole freak on is telling me it’s gonna get better? Deej, you don’t even know the half of it.”
She lead him into the main section of the library. Scanning, she recognized several faces—brittle old Mrs. Namasuro, her old supervisor, hunched over the check-out desk; that homeless black woman whose name she had never bothered to learn who practically lived here; IT Dave the IT guy doin’ IT things. Others. Standing in here brought back the weight of all the drudgery she’d endured on the premises, but in a moment, she remembered her new boy-toy, and felt the exultation of shedding that yoke.
“So what’d you have in mind?” asked DJ.
“Well, I was hoping to see this one girl I knew here, but ah well. So... how far does this gift of yours stretch? What are the limits?”
He shrugged. “So far, none that I know of.”
“Consequences?”
“None.”
“Drawbacks? Does it tire you out to keep it running or something?”
“It’s not conscious; it just happens. No drawbacks I’ve seen.”
“Nobody’s come after you with a stick or something for stealing their car, no farmers looking to avenge the loss of their daughters’ virginities?”
He laughed. “No sticks. There was the one farmer, but with no stick, what was he gonna do.”
“So like, if I...” She went over to one of the bookshelves, easily ten feet tall and laden with hundreds of pounds of books, Aa-Be. Then, with a grunt of effort, she shoved the thing, then shoved harder (damn thing was heavy) until it collapsed with a thunderous boom. A cloud of dust billowed up from the scene of the crime.
Employees ran over, horrified. They looked at the mess, then to Ashley and DJ, and back. “What happened here?” demanded old Mrs. Namasuro as she shuffled closer. “Ashley Vandoren? Did you do this? And for pity’s sake where’s your shirt, child?”
Ashley nodded. “Didn’t feel like wearing one, and yeah, I did it.”
“What in heaven’s name for?”
“I dunno. Spite, I guess? If I’d been thinking, I would’ve shoved it the other way, see if we could get a nice domino effect going like ya see on TV. Ah well, next time.”
“This is vandalism! I’m calling the police, young lady—you just stay RIGHT there!”
Ashley, beginning to worry that this wasn’t going to go like she’d hoped, looked at DJ, who’d been looking remorsefully at the downed tomes. Ugh, she hoped he didn’t have some kind of lame piety about the sanctity of books or some lame shit like that. “Deej, anything you wanna say here?”
He cleared his throat and dutifully stepped forward. “I made her do it, actually.”
Mrs. Namasuro gave him a hard look. “Well, you can explain that to the police when they arrive to arrest Ms. Vandoren.”
“You’re not going to call anyone,” DJ replied evenly. He continued talking, but Ashley lost track of it as the girl she’d most hoped to run into here came into her view, apparently having been downstairs in the children’s wing and coming to investigate the noise.
Cara Spicer. The little cunt who’d ratted her out.
Ashley and Cara had been natural enemies from the time they become co-workers. They were the two most attractive girls who worked there, sparking all manner of arguments from the chauvinist pigs they worked with about who was the hotter: Ashley and her semi-Goth pale and busty style, or Cara, the quintessential girl-next door. Medium height, medium build, big brown eyes and long straight brown hair, doll-faced and insipid and everything Ashley hated about the cohabitants of her gender. Dressed prettily, broadcasted sweetness in a visible wavelength, volunteered at the fucking animal shelter in her spare time. And of course she was pre-med, so she could go join Doctors Without Borders or some other save-the-wretched-from-themselves foundation when she got her MD.
Ashley detested her. It was two-way street. Cara began the war with small-scale skirmishes, suggesting ways Ashley could do her hair prettier, correcting her posture, suggesting death metal t-shirts weren’t appropriate attire at work. (Mrs. Namasuro had overheard that last, which Ashley was sure was no accident, and had instituted a new policy that essentially analyzed Ashley’s wardrobe and banned it.) That was the first of countless reprimands and formal warnings Cara brought down on her, finally culminating in ratting her out for her weed and getting her fired.
She came back to the present, and DJ had evidently satisfied Mrs. Namasuro, who was now shuffling back to her desk as a number of her male employees began picking up the shelf, glaring at Ashley. Cara caught site of Ashley and just shook her head in her usual puritanical disapprobation at the girl’s state of undress. Clearly, she also immediately linked Ashley to the mess on the tile behind her.
“Satisfied?” DJ asked.
“I’m about to be,” she said, her eyes still fixed on Cara, who was in turn looking with pity on the poor books for having to touch the dirty floor. “We both are. C’mon.”
She took DJ’s hand and had to pull to make him keep up with her, stopping before Cara. “I can’t believe you did that, Ashley. That’s so disrespectful. When you make messes, it creates work for other people—don’t you understand that? But then, judging from what you’re wearing, you don’t even respect yourself.”
Ashley rolled her eyes. “DJ, meet Cara. Cara, DJ.”
“Hi,” said DJ.
“Hello.” She gave him a wary look, certain anyone hanging around with that no-account hoodlum Ashley Vandoren must surely be destined for bad things.
“Cara, I need your help with something,” Ashley said.
“I think you should leave.”
“I’ll bet. Now, in a minute, I’m going to have sex with my buddy here. But to do that, I need to get him good and hard first.”
“That’s disgusting, Ashley. I don’t know why you’re telling me this except to be deliberately crude.” Cara turned to walk away, but DJ, seeing where this was going, grabbed the pretty brunette by the sleeve of her blouse and held her fast. She stopped almost instantly, and DJ directed her back around to face them.
“Now, I was saying. I need him hard. You ever get a guy hard, Cara? I don’t mean the way you’re strutting around in this little white blouse that we can juuuuust barely see your bra through, or that little khaki skirt that’s just short enough to make guys strain their eyes a bit every time you lean. I know you get off on being a tease. But have you ever actually got down on your knees and actually done the work yourself?”
Cara gaped. She’d always assumed Ashley was a promiscuous girl, but she’d never been spoken to like this in her life. “I do NOT tease...! I just try to look nice, and it’s absolutely none of your business what I’ve done in my romantic life.”
“Oh God, you can’t even say the words ‘sex life,’ can you. Fuck, what’d they do to you in Catholic school, Cara?”
“It was a Lutheran school,” Cara corrected, clearly placing much value on the distinction.
“What the fuck ever. Today, you’re going to get those little knee socks dirty, OK? Get down on your knees and blow my friend.”
“What?! You’re crazy!” DJ was still holding her sleeve, but Cara still managed to lean as far away from Ashley as she could manage without pulling away from his loose grip.
“Deej, you wanna gimme a hand here?”
He nodded. “Cara, I need you to do me a solid and comply with everything Ashley tells you to do, OK?”
“But... but... she’s...”
“Wah wah wah,” Ashley mocked. “Quit being such a baby and get on your knees.”
Cara gave him a pleading look. “Do I really have to?” He just nodded.
With a little whimper of defeat, she watched Cara Spicer fall to her knees in front of her. The sight was better than any sex she’d ever had. The pouting girl looked up between Ashley and DJ, waiting.
“Now you can’t suck his dick with his pants on, can you? C’mon, get those off of him.”
“But... but...” She lifted her hands, but only partway, and fidgeted nervously.
Ashley crouched down beside her. “I’m tired of all this foot-dragging, Cara. From now on, every time you hesitate or say no, you’re going to lose an article of clothing. I’ll be nice and let you pick which one goes first.”
“Please, no!” begged Cara.
“Wow, don’t even have the first one off and you’ve already racked up a second.”
She looked up to DJ. “You can’t let her do this to me! Everyone will... see me!”
“That’s three... Better make up your mind soon or we’re just gonna strip you all the way right off.”
“F-fine!” stammered Cara. “Take my sh-shoes, and a s-sock!” She shivered.
“What? Strip poker rules... oh what am I saying, like you ever played strip poker. Or any poker, I bet. Anyway, socks and shoes each count as one thing, so you think of the third while you take those off.”
Cara took her time removing them, but Ashley was glad for the delay as it seemed to forestall the impending panic attack. She painstakingly undid the buckles on her Mary Janes, then the socks followed. Ashley just drummed her fingers while she waited.
“All right, so what’s next?”
“D-does my hair band count?”
“Nope.”
“Contacts?”
Ashley sighed, bored. “And she shoots for four...”
“Please! I’ll do my... underwear.” She flushed to say the word aloud.
“Good girl, Cara. DJ, you want the honors?”
He had a neutral expression on his face; Ashley couldn’t understand why. Say what you want about Cara Spicer’s black hole of a personality, the bitch was plenty hot. “Sure, don’t mind if I do,” he said after a brief pause.
Cara bit her lip nervously, but it was immediately clear she was more at ease being directed by DJ than by her old co-worker. With Ashley, she’d looked shamed to her core; with DJ, she had the kind of patiently awkward expression Ashley suspected most women had during a pelvic exam. He knelt in front of her, caressing those coltish legs on the way up, and a moment later, his hands came back down with a pair of tame beige panties.
Ashley took them from his hand, crumpled them up and threw them as far as they would go. They landed right on the book a woman was reading at a nearby table; she brushed them aside with a grimace and kept reading. “Now let’s reverse you to back to where we want you, eh?” She offered DJ a hand to help him up while Cara sunk back to her knees. “Now, I believe I told you before to take his pants off.”
Cara only paused a moment before she complied, and a moment later, his pants and boxers were down around his ankles. This was the first time Ashley had seen him flaccid, and she was a little surprised that it was so, having just had his hands up this choir-girl priss’s skirt, to say nothing of having her own spectacular knockers on display. Ungrateful man.
“Now take it in your mouth.”
“Take what in my mouth?” Cara asked lamely.
“What the fuck do you think, dumb-ass. Ya know, nevermind, that’s another one.”
Cara whimpered as Ashley knelt down behind her again and untucked her blouse from her skirt. One by one she undid the buttons, slowly revealing the little pink bow between the two stark white cups of the girl’s bra.
Cara didn’t move her arms when Ashley went to pull the shirt off. “Go ahead, drag your feet. I can take the bra too.” In an instant, the girl relaxed and let her blouse come off. Two perky little breasts sat proudly in the otherwise plain white bra.
The buxom redhead peeked at the tag hanging out from the strap in the back. “C? Wow, Cara, figured you for a B girl. Sure C’s aren’t too flashy? Wouldn’t want the boys getting ideas, would ya.”
“It’s just the way God made me,” Cara said in a small voice.
“Well, now I’m making you suck this guy’s dick, so quit stalling and get to it.”
“I’ve never done this before.”
“Don’t worry, it’s real easy. I’ll help.” Ashley gripped Cara by the hair—holy fuck her hair is soft; but of course it fucking is and pushed her face first into DJ’s crotch. She didn’t even open her mouth, just letting his soft penis get mushed against her lips. Ashley gripped her cheeks with the other hand, and the gentle pressure prompted Cara to open up. In went the cock.
“There ya go, Cara, you’re going to be a natural at this. From back-stabber to cock-sucker, just like that.” When Cara didn’t initiate anything, Ashley used her grip on the girl’s feathery-soft hair to begin pulling her up and down, a few inches at a pull.
DJ gasped in discomfort as her teeth grazed him. “Ow, shit! Careful, Ashley!”
Oops, she hadn’t meant to hurt him; doing so deliberately would be insane, and accidentally was just rude. “Sorry, babe. Now Cara, that’s rule #1, is keep your teeth out of it. Lips and tongue, sweetie, lips and tongue. Should’ve been obvious, even to a prude like you. And to make it up to DJ...”
She undid the clasp on Cara’s bra; the girl squealed in alarm at the notion of all these strangers who must surely be staring at her mostly-naked blowjob of a total stranger in the middle of the fiction section. In actuality, hardly anyone was looking and no one was rude enough to stare at DJ and his conquests, but it sure didn’t feel that way. Then the bra was off, and Ashley threw it off into the library.
“Play with her tits, Ashley,” DJ commanded.
“What? I’m not a dyke,” Ashley protested, annoyed. Not too annoyed. Don’t want to be impolite to him.
“She’s not very good at this, so unless you want to wait all day to coach her through it, I need the boost,” DJ explained.
“Fine, fine,” Ashley grumbled. The last thing she wanted to do was have to make out with Cara fucking Spicer, but DJ was DJ, and she wasn’t some neo-Nazi who was going to be a bitch to him. She leaned against Cara’s back and reached over her shoulder, taking one of her boobs in each hand. She had surprisingly big nipples, pink and pointy, and Ashley took them between her thumbs and forefingers and went to town, pinching and twisting and tweaking.
Cara, who had never let anyone feel her up before, squealed in spite of herself.
Soon, the girls’ display had DJ’s cock back in ship-shape, and Ashley (who was looking for any excuse not to keep pleasuring her nemesis) pulled Cara’s mouth off roughly. She stared in awe at the spire of man-meat before her eyes. “Never seen a hard dick in person, eh?”
“No,” Cara said, blinking at it.
DJ tilted her chin to look up at him. “Now take Ashley’s pants off, Cara, like you did mine.”
“Ew. I don’t want her touching me, asshole.”
“Are you saying no to me?” He arched an eyebrow.
“Well of course not.” Damn, what kind of a person did he think she was? “Just saying... I can take my own clothes off. That’s all.” Geez, touchy.
“I want to see her do it. Go on, Cara.”
With trembling hands, Cara unbuttoned and unzipped Ashley’s jeans, making as little skin-to-skin contact as possible. Ashley kicked her shoes off to facilitate the stripping. DJ then prompted her to get the panties, and at maximum arm length the hesitant library aid obeyed. Ashley’s pussy was on fire; even with Cara involved, she was still living in the realm of her wildest fantasies. Before she had to feel Cara’s hands on her again, she removed her own bra hastily.
“I forgot how incredible these are,” DJ said as he cupped her tits, fondling them every which way. She didn’t appreciate being objectified like this, but there was no real alternative but to sit back and put up with it. Guys always fixated on her boobs, and Ashley found it kind of annoying, even if it was useful. (And understandable; she had rockin’ jugs.)
“C-can I go now, DJ?”
“I think I’ve had my fun with her,” Ashley said. Stripped her nearly naked and had her blow a total stranger in front of dozens of people and her boss—seemed about right.
“I haven’t.”
“What? C’mon, Deej, you got all the woman you need right here.” She pressed her tits into his hands firmly, wriggled them around.
“I do, but I like looking at her. She’s cute, and she stays.”
Cara smiled, against all odds.
After another hard squeeze, DJ let go of her boobs and took a girl under each arm. His hands slipped down to take an ass in each, gripping Ashley’s broad, generously-portioned butt in one hand and sliding his other up Cara’s little khaki skirt to hold hers. He lead them this way over to a centrally located cluster of tables, then swept all the books off one of the tables. He looked to Ashley and patted the tabletop. She hopped up, grinning.
“You got a nice ass, Cara,” he said, squeezing it fondly. With her skirt hiked up for access, Ashley could get a good look at it. It was tight and toned, clearly the result of great genes and a strict exercise regimen. “Ditch the skirt, show it off.”
Cara gamely obeyed; DJ’s power clearly made her instinct not to be rude to him dwarf her fear of being punished by Ashley on his authority. DJ, cock still standing impressively tall in front of him, climbed up on the table and positioned himself over Ashley.
Her pussy fluttered in anticipation. She was finally, finally going to get well and truly fucked in front of God and everyone, like she’d masturbated to a thousand times. She spread her thighs for him, and gently massaged her hardening clit.
“Now Ashley, before I give you what you want, I want you to tell me what this girl did to make you hate her so much.”
“She was breaking the law, and I—”
DJ put a finger to her lips, and she fell silent. “I asked Ashley. Now go ahead.”
Ashley grinned smugly at the bitch as she sulked from behind his finger. “She was always ratting me out to our supervisor when I used to work here, getting me in trouble for shit, complaining about every little thing I did. Then she literally narced on me for having weed in my backpack and got me fired.”
“I see. But you did have the weed right?”
“Well, yeah.” She wanted to tell him to shut his damn mouth and just fuck her already, but he obviously wanted to talk first, so she held her tongue and tried not to hit him. (Not that she ever would, of course. Just an expression.)
“And the other things she told on you for—were they things you knew you weren’t supposed to do?”
“Some of them, but still—”
“And Cara, why did you tattle?”
Cara gave a mean look at Ashley. “Because she was a terrible employee and she made more work for everyone and it wasn’t fair. She reflected badly on the whole library.”
“That’s it? Just out of professional integrity and nothing else?”
Cara looked down, embarrassed. “Well, and I was... jealous.”
What? Cara, Little Miss Perfect, was jealous of her?
“Oh?” DJ prompted.
“Yeah. All the guys were just drooling over her all the time, doing favors for her, covering for her. And she’s just so... ugh, pretty, I guess, after a fashion, even if she refuses to do anything to make herself presentable... And that body. I mean, it’s just not fair.”
DJ smiled. “You look surprised, Ashley.”
“Well yeah. I mean, Cara’s just so... hot, you know? Like, everybody just fawns over her like she’s God’s gift to dicks and it always drove me fucking crazy.”
Cara gave her a timidly flattered smile. “What? Ashley, you’re so much hotter than me. I mean, those breasts, your skin... you have to have really perfect skin to pull off that pale look you have going on.”
“Whatever—you have the kind of face you see on those skanks in Maxim.”
“Thanks, I think,” Cara said, her smile broadening.
“Yeah, samesies, I guess,” said Ashley. It was strange, thinking that someone she’d had up on a pedestal in her mind had regarded her in kind. She knew what it was like to feel threatened by the Brittney’s of the world. She got that instinct to try to take them down a peg. Apparently she and Cara had that aspect of their nature in common.
“Good,” DJ interrupted. “Now Cara, come here.” He beckoned her over, then positioned her kneeling on a chair, that perfectly tight little ass thrust out behind her right near Ashley’s shoulders. Then, before she could wonder too much about what would be coming next, DJ slid himself slowly into her pussy. She was suddenly so full of cock she could give two shits about Cara Spicer’s ass in her face. Life was so fucking amazing right now—all around her, people seeing her spread like a slut on a table in the middle of a library, ready to be fucked like the gorgeous babe she was. This was where she belonged—now if only DJ would stop running his mouth and get to work.
“All right, now I came here with Ashley and I’m leaving with Ashley, so she’s the one I have business with. But I like a good show, so I’m keeping you around too, Cara. Ashley, you’re going to play with Cara.”
“But...!” she whined.
“If you want to do this with me, this is how it’s going to be. As long as I’m fucking you, you’re going to be working on Cara here.”
“What do you mean, ‘working on’?” she asked guardedly.
“That’s up to you. If you still feel pissed at her, you can take that cute little tushie of hers and smack it to your heart’s content. If you feel like you two have come to an understanding, then you can show that pretty little pussy of hers a decent time and let by-gones be by-gones. Your choice.”
Cara looked back at her nervously; Ashley suspected both options were objectionable to her as well. Ashley definitely wanted to get fucked. The fantasy was etched on her soul, and at this point it would take a team of horses to pry her off DJ’s cock.
But what to do about Cara? She’d always hated her, after all. But now, knowing the girl was just acting out of the same place of feeling threatened and alienated that she was... should she show mercy, give the bitch a little thrill? They had more in common than she’d thought, after all. Should she take pity on her, let her off easy?
Ashley knew it was the right thing to do. Cara had just been doing her job, and acted out against a girl she felt threatened by. She deserved Ashley’s forgiveness.
Fuck that.
The first slap across Cara’s naked ass was a high-pitched whip-crack of a sound that echoed through the stacks of the library. Cara cried out in a little surprise and a lot of pain, gripping the chair-back tightly.
“Shhhhhhhh!” came the admonition of Mrs. Namasuro from the nearby check-out desk. Ashley didn’t care. DJ began drilling her needful pussy, starting slowly, but as Ashley smacked and smacked Cara’s firm naked ass, he picked up speed as if each spanking was a spur in his flank.
Cara made an effort to comply with her supervisor’s rebuke, but the stings came too fast, too hard, and soon the library was flooded with the moans of man and women crying out for their own reasons. With the domed ceilings echoing the cries around, even Ashley wasn’t always sure where her blissful cries ended and Cara’s piteous wails began.
Even with the distraction of spanking her erstwhile colleague like the petulant brat she was, it was as good or better than Ashley had imagined. DJ soon had had his fun and released his load into her, then collapsed beside her on the table, joining her as she pantied and laughed in elation.
Cara just slumped forward, relieved to be ignored and afraid to try sitting down.
Around them, life in the library went on. IT Dave helped an elderly man figure out how to log on to a computer; minimum-wage employees grudgingly restored books to their proper places on shelves; Mrs. Namasuro glared contemptuously at Cara and Ashley for violating the sanctity of her chapel. Patrons walked by without batting an eyelash at the three nude people on and around it.
DJ smiled broadly, still coming down from his orgasmic high, and Ashley rolled over and draped a leg over him, snuggling up against his sweaty body with her own. He hadn’t been a great lover—not bad, but nothing to write home about. He wasn’t the best-looking guy she’d ever been with, and while his cock was more than adequate, he didn’t have a career in porn ahead of him.
But with him at her side, she could do this every day. And more.
Hell, if she could keep DJ around, what couldn’t she do?