Like most of the stories I might tell you involving girls I�ve liked and attempted to start a relationship with, this one starts out in a pretty ordinary way. But it gets complicated soon enough, believe me.

I played clarinet in the high school marching band and between that and my preference for books and computers over sports, I was a thoroughgoing geek, and I generally hung out with the other geeks. The jocks and the country-club girls both looked down on us and made stupid jokes about us. But there were a lot of geeks in my school, and we sneered right back at them, and our jokes at their expense were funnier and more intellectual, so we didn�t really care. Also, there were more than a few geeky girls around, some of them excessively cute, so we weren�t feeling especially sexually deprived, either.

But there was this one particular girl, a flautist, for whom I developed a serious crush at a two-week band camp the summer after junior year that a lot of our school�s band attended. Her name was Cyndi and she had this little button nose, and waves of fine blonde hair, and a delightful giggle, and eyebrows that bounced up and down when she got excited. We all wore shorts, of course, this being camp, and I was also mesmerized by her fantastic legs. Really nice ass, too. Frankly, I itched to get my hands on little Cyndi. I stared at her every chance I got, I fantasized about her when I jerked off, and I laid plans to invite her to take long, romantic walks in the nearby woods. (Yeah, it was a real camp, trees and a lake and everything.)

The problem was, while I was reasonably outgoing with people I already knew, I wasn�t actually that well acquainted with Cyndi, and so I was shy about approaching her. And then, while I dithered, I lost my chance because she suddenly attached herself to Brian, the tall, good-looking cornet player who had just been tapped as our senior year drum major. She apparently was overcome by his baton, boots, and two-foot-tall shako.

I ended up watching from afar the rest of the summer while the two of them walked around holding hands. I got over my crush, eventually, but I sort of felt put upon the whole rest of my senior year, like the God of Love (or at least Lust) had singled me out as a lab project in the effects of deprivation on hormone production.

I ended up taking a very nice girl to the Senior Prom with whom I had been friends for years — a fellow geek, of course — and while we both had a lot of fun, I can�t say it was romantic, really. I guess we had just been pals for too long. Although, we did share a nice, long kiss at the end of the evening, involving lots of tongues, which you don�t generally get with a buddy.

So I went off to college, to a large state technical university with a nationally-ranked engineering school and an innovative program in robotics, where I hoped to start changing the world, and at which I had landed a not-bad academic scholarship. Anyway, my folks, while not mega-wealthy, were pretty well off, so I probably wasn�t going to graduate with a load of student debt. In other words, if I kept my grades up (and I always had, and without too much difficulty), I was looking at an enjoyable and solvent future. Nothing to worry about, right? Four years of hard work, but that was fine with me. Then probably grad school, which was okay, too. But, a little voice in the back of my head was warning me, probably not much of a love life. The odds just seemed to be against it.

So I slogged through my freshman year, discovering that most of the people in my classes were just as smart as I was and just as ambitious — a revelation that I�m told is sometimes devastating to bright geeks. I dealt with it, though, and ended the year with stellar grades and a renewed scholarship.

My second year was more of the same, but I knew what I was doing now. I sort of had college figured out. Not everyone manages to do that, and I noted a number of faces missing from the first year�s crowd. But there were also a few new faces, one of whom caught my notice in particular during the spring term.

She was a girl in one of my classes who went by the handle of "P.J." and who declined to tell anyone what her official names were. Some idle and inventive guesses were made in her hearing, including "Philomena Juno" and "Philida Jambalaya," but she just laughed and shook her head. It was a really lovely laugh, musical and breathy, and I found myself paying closer attention.

P.J. was a very pretty girl, which always helps. Not drop-dead gorgeous, exactly, but very attractive in a "wholesome," girl-next-door sort of way. She was a regular swimmer and wore her chestnut hair rather short, which exposed almost elfin ears and accentuated a long, rather elegant neck. She was slender in build, which was very much to my taste, with long legs and trim ankles. Breasts that weren�t huge but seemed nicely shaped, with a proper catenary curve and all — which was apparent because she didn�t always wear a bra.

Unlike most of the females enrolled in the engineering school, she also cultivated long fingernails, carefully maintained and always painted in brilliant colors. When she was thinking, she often tapped those nails slowly, one after another, on the table top or against the edge of her laptop case. The effect of those tiny clicks was hypnotic, at least on me.

I decided I was going to get better acquainted with P.J., and I was going to lay out a systematic campaign to accomplish that end. (Geeks are like that.) She seemed to socialize with a wide range of people of both sexes, and there didn�t appear to be a boyfriend in evidence, so at least I wasn�t out of the running before I even started, I thought. I was dating occasionally, but (as the little voice had prophesied) I hadn�t yet gotten laid at the university level. I was determined that was going to change.

There was a sort of tradition among the girls in the school — or maybe it was a strategy — that if they ate lunch with one of the guys, or did anything else that required the expenditure of funds, they routinely paid their own way. If a guy started paying for a girl�s burgers or paintball tickets, everyone else assumed they were now officially an Item, and were probably sleeping together as well. This took the pressure off couples who were simply friends, or who were only just beginning to do the mating dance.

A lot of us ate regularly at the Union�s huge food court, where there was lots of variety and you could charge lunch to your meal card. It was also more convenient than going off campus or back to the dorm�s dining room if you had only an hour between classes. So I began making a point of getting in line behind P.J. , even though she seemed to favor Chinese. (I would ordinarily have stuck to barbecue or a sub.) We would chat while we waited our turn, which led us into sharing a table almost automatically. And, of course, we always each paid for our own meals, which kept everything nonthreatening. At least she didn�t fob me off.

Sometimes it was just the two of us, sometimes we were with a couple of others, but I tried always to sit next to her. I paid close attention to whatever she was talking about that day and attempted to make intelligent contributions. I was insinuating myself into her space, and hopefully into her life.

So we gradually got to know each other better and I found that P.J. was a very nice person to know. She was delightful company, even if my motives hadn�t been more complex. More than once we shared a table back in a corner of the library, putting our heads close together to whisper over some academic project. And if she was headed into the eight o�clock class we shared, and she noticed me approaching, too, she would wait at the door for me to catch up so we could exchange good mornings.

Then, after a couple of weeks, the opportunity arose for me to take the next step. Or so I thought. There was a small art house theater near campus that specialized in older cult films, and I tried to get there at least once or twice a month. Yeah, I know, you can watch them on Netflix, or even on your laptop, but it just isn�t the same as seeing them on the big screen, with a crowd of other fans, the way they were intended to be viewed. And one Friday afternoon I discovered that that weekend�s showing was going to be Repo Man — one of the most underappreciated flicks of all time.

And then, entirely without planning it, I ran into P.J. on the walkway behind the Physics Building. I didn�t even stop to think about it.

"Listen, have you ever seen Repo Man?" I asked her. "Emilio Estevez and Harry Dean Stanton?"

"No, I don�t think so. Is it supposed to be good?" P.J. wasn�t a film freak the way I was, but she was always willing to learn.

"It�s not just good," I said with a grin as we walked toward the dorms. "It�s amazing. I�ve seen it maybe twenty times. It gets better each time. Everyone should see it."

She laughed. "I guess I�ll have to, then."

"Great! Can I take you to see it, then? My treat? Like maybe this evening?"

She stopped and looked at me. "You mean like a date?" There was a long pause while I watched her considering what to say. Shit, I thought, here it comes. The secret boyfriend. "Sam, I . . . um . . . see, I don�t date guys." She saw my expression and lowered her voice. "It�s not you, Sam. I promise, it�s not. I like you. You�re nice and everything and I enjoy your company. But, . . . well, it�s personal. It wouldn�t be fair to go out with you on a real date."

I must have looked confused because she glanced around and beckoned me toward a bench under a big, ancient live oak ten yards off the walkway. We sat and she parked her bookbag at her feet and swiveled to face me. She studied my face for a minute while I tried to figure out what the impediment was. I figured she would have just told me if she were already involved with another guy. And she would have been careful not to hurt my feelings when she did it, too.

Then she actually took my hand, which she�d never done before, and sighed. "Sam, can you keep a secret?"

I nodded hesitantly, wondering if maybe she had terminal cancer or something. Maybe she was avoiding relationships because she expected to be dead in six months. "I can with you," I said. "Whatever it is, I promise I won�t tell anyone."

She looked down, then back at my face. "See, what it is, . . . I�m gay, sort of."

I think my eyebrows rose. I knew a couple of guys who were gay and there was no big secret involved. Not these days, especially not at a big university full of intelligent, mostly socially liberal people. Nobody really gave a damn about things like that. Anyway, "Sort of?"

"Well, I haven�t done anything about it. So I guess I�m not really sure. But there�s this girl. . . ."

I suppose I should have been upset, or at least depressed, having my fond hopes dashed like that in such an unrecoverable way. But instead, I found myself becoming interested. "Can I ask who?"

She smiled, I suppose because I was taking it so well. Like I said, she was a nice person. "Do you know Cora Gilman? On the volleyball team?"

Our school never ranked very high in the major sports, like football or basketball. That was just the breaks. But perhaps because of that, our volleyball teams, both men�s and women�s, were absolutely stellar. Both were always in contention for national titles and every four years several of our players were likely to be tapped in the first cut for the Olympics. So volleyball was a very big deal on campus, and we all went to the games. The women�s team even had its own cheerleading squad, made up of hunky guys. (And one or two of them were probably gay, for that matter.)

And as it happened. . . . "Yeah, Cora�s in my industrial design lab. Very smart lady." Very attractive, too, I thought, in an Athena-esque way. She was an inch or two taller than me, and with serious muscles. She could probably break me in half without even thinking about it. Impressive but not my type. Also, it was a large class and she didn�t know me from Edison.

"Well," P.J. said, "every time I watch her play, in those tight shorts, I really get the hots for her. You know?" She laughed again. "Well, maybe you don�t. But my interest in her, Sam, . . . it�s very . . . you know. Physical. And I keep hear these stories that she�s gay. I want to hook up with her in the worst way. I�ve never had, um, naked sex with another girl, but I want to with her. I really, truly, do, Sam." She sighed. "And I see her around all the time but I�m scared to approach her."

I thought about it. "Listen, don�t take this the wrong way, and I�m probably going to sound stupid here, but doesn�t it work for gays pretty much the same way as for straights? I mean, can�t you just strike up a conversation with her and kind of take it from there?" Like I�ve been trying to do with you, I thought.

P.J. shrugged. She was still holding my hand, I noticed. "I don�t know. I�ve never done it before. I had a crush a couple times on girls when I was younger, but that�s actually pretty common, and it isn�t like we, um, did anything about it. And I did have a boyfriend in high school. I actually did it with him a couple of times, and I felt all the usual things, so. . . ." She was blushing a little now, presumably from hearing herself pouring out her proto-lesbian sexual frustrations to a male friend.

And this conversation definitely was getting a little strange. I was shy with girls I was seriously interested in. And the girl I was presently interested in was also shy with girls she was interested in. And she wasn�t even sure about what she was feeling. Maybe there was hope after all, I thought. Maybe there was something, anyway.

"Well, is it possible. . . ." I was feeling my way here. "Look, I really don�t know what I�m talking about here, so feel free to just tell me to shut up, okay? But are you maybe bisexual? I mean, if you�re, um, interested in both sexes?"

She shrugged. "I�ve wondered, but I don�t know. There�s not really anyone I can ask about it, Sam."

"Well, . . . look, P.J., you know I�m interested in you, right?"

She gave my fingers a little squeeze and grinned. "Yeah, I was beginning to get that idea."

"Can I make a suggestion, then? Come to the movies with me. As my actual date. You can never tell, right? And I�ve been warned, so if you suddenly leap up and flee the theater, I won�t take it personally. Okay?"

She sat there looking so cute and desirable — and still holding my hand — and I watched again as her thoughts went round and round. Finally, she gave me a warm smile. "Okay, Sam, I�d like to go with you. But if nothing more happens---"

"If all we do at the of the evening is exchange formal bows, that�s okay too. And it�s still my treat."

The evening with P.J. was great, Repo Man was great (as always), and I began to have renewed hopes, my date�s confession notwithstanding. When I put my arm around her in the dark theater, she leaned against my shoulder, and when I took her hand on the walk back, she didn�t snatch it away.

P.J.�s dorm had a grove of live oaks to one side which dating couples routinely retreated to for a last-minute wrestling match. It offered seclusion at night while still being technically public, so the Powers That Be mostly ignored it. I considered taking my date in amongst the trees but immediately discarded the idea. I figured she�d just refuse and that would spoil the evening.

Imagine my surprise when she took a firmer grip on my hand and led the way herself to a quiet spot behind a three-foot trunk. I must have looked at her speculatively because she flashed that lovely smile and draped her arms over my shoulders.

"This is in the nature of an experiment, Sam. I want to see what happens."

"Yes, professor."

"Now, don�t be a smart ass, young man, or I might have to keep you after school."

The kiss that followed could have kick-started the university�s cyclotron. I was giving it my very best effort, given the possibilities that were riding on it, but P.J. seemed to want to prove something to herself as well. Her tongue snaked around inside my mouth until my ears rang and I ran my hands up and down her spine, pressing her as close to me as I could, though I kept my roaming above her waist. Her lips were full and firm on mine and the warmth of her body against me felt wonderful.

When we eventually and inevitably came up for air, we were both so literally out of breath, we just stood there for a minute or so, panting at each other.

"Wow. . . ," she gasped in a somewhat small voice.

"My feelings exactly."

"You make me feel so good, Sam." She grinned. "And so horny, too." Then her gaze seemed to turn inward. She looked down for a moment, then up at me again, and bit her lip in a very fetching way. "But I still really want to get into Cora�s panties. I�m sorry."

I shrugged. "Well, I tried."

She leaned against me again and stroked my chest. "Actually, I think you succeeded." Her hand drifted southward until it reached my cock, which was presently in an enlarged state, and squeezed. "I want to have sex with Cora so bad, but now I�m thinking about this, too. God, I�m so messed up!" She sounded like she was about to break into tears.

I took her in my arms and held her tight and she clung to me. "P.J., you can only feel what you feel. No point apologizing for it. If it turns out you�re straight on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, and gay on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, well, you�re never going to lack for a date, are you? Mangling Woody Allen there. And dibs on Fridays, by the way."

She laughed through her incipient sniffles and I held her even closer.

"Besides, I may have an idea about your little problem. Let me think about it, okay?"

"Okay. It�s been a lovely evening, Sam. You were right about the film, too — only I wish I knew what was in the suitcase. But there�s one more thing, though."

"What�s that?"

"This." And she pulled me into another long, slow, deep kiss, winding my hair around her fingers and pulling at my ears as our lips ground together. I hadn�t been kissed like that in a long, long time. Hell, not ever. I wasn�t sure I could even stagger back to my room. They�d probably find me right there in the morning, smiling in my sleep under that tree.

The next afternoon, I went looking for a guy I knew who shared my interest in the application of robots in planetary exploration. He was also an avid player of tennis and racquetball — though not with me, since I wouldn�t even know how to hold the club. His name was Clark (he liked to introduce himself "as in �Kent�") and among his many other accomplishments, he was as queer as that three-dollar bill you�ve heard about. He never lacked for romance, but he knew I didn�t swing his direction and we got along fine. The thing was, he also loved gossip and he had lots of contacts among the jocks.

I found him stretched out in the shade of a hedge with his laptop open and some arcane stress-fracture problem displayed on the screen. He was muttering to himself and stabbing the backspace key. He peered back over his shoulder when I cast a shadow on his work.

"Sam? What�s up, man?"

"Clark, old son, my lad, I need to consult with you if you�ve got a minute."

He sighed. "Sure. This damn thing�s giving me a headache anyway." He snapped the computer�s lid shut and turned on his side. "Pull up a piece of lawn and tell Uncle Clark all about it."

I sat down cross-legged. "You know all the sporty types, right? I�m interested in a volleyball player named Cora Gilman."

He snorted. "Too bad if you are. Nothing personal, Sam, but she won�t be interested in you unless you�ve got tits and a pussy I don�t know about."

"So she�s gay, then?

"Absolutely. But actually, . . . maybe not completely, from what I�ve heard."

That sounded interesting. "Tell me a little about her anyway. The key stuff."

"Well, lessee. . . ." He turned and stretched out on his back, arms cushioning his head. "She�s a junior, a year ahead of you and me. She�s sharp as a tack, both in class and on the court. She�s not the team captain but she might as well be. She has a lot of friends — not counting lovers, that is, just straight people she hangs out with, both sexes. People seem to trust her. She has a reputation as a good person, willing to help with things when she�s asked and all that. A solid citizen. I wouldn�t be surprised if she ended up with both an Olympic Medal and a Carnegie Award."

"Does she have a steady, um, girlfriend?"

"I don�t think so. Not for more than a few weeks at a time. She seems to play the field, mostly." He shot me a strange look. "So what�s this all about?"

"Just trying to help out a friend. If I can figure out how. Um. Look, do you think you could introduce me to her? Seriously. Since she and I don�t really move in the same circles, it might help smooth the way."

"The way to what?" He hesitated. "Yeah, I can introduce you, I guess. But I�m telling you, Sam, it�s not going to do you a bit of good. She�s a striking woman, I admit, but you�re just gonna strike out."

So he got right on his cell phone and called someone he knew at the Field House, asking if Cora had been seen lately. Turned out she was presently signed in to one of the handball courts, so we walked over that way. There were four courts beyond the pool, just two tall freestanding cement walls with cement pads on both sides of each. Only one was in use at the moment. Cora was working out by herself, batting the ball up at an angle, then leaping to the spot where she could return it against herself, and muttering something under her breath each time. She had long blonde hair tied back in a thrashing ponytail and her high cheekbones were glowing with the exertion. It was a striking scene. And those tight shorts showed off a championship ass. Looking at this girl from my new perspective, I thought I could see what attracted P.J. to her, but she was exhausting to watch.

We sat on the bench at the side and waited patiently. Clark glanced at me.

"Two six-packs? Dos Equis?"

"Done." Nothing comes free and his assistance came cheaper than most.

Cora had noted our presence but ignored us. After another few minutes, she gave the little ball an extra-hard slap and caught it on the rebound. "Two hundred!" she announced, apparently for our benefit. She walked in our direction, shaking her head so the sweat flew in all directions. Clark tossed her the bath towel that had been draped over the back of the bench.

"Thanks, Superman. How are things?" I�d forgotten how relatively deep her voice was, but it fit with her statuesqueness.

"Oh, things are good, mostly. You know me." He gestured in my direction. "This is a friend of mine, Sam Tattersall. Apparently, he has something he wants to discuss with you. He�s okay, Cora. I vouch for him."

That was a nice thing for him to say. I�d have to throw in a fistful of Slim Jims when I picked up his beer. We stood there and chatted for a minute or two while Cora caught her breath and toweled her head and wiped down her limbs. If she�d been a guy, the smell would probably have been overpowering, but somehow she still smelled nice. Then Clark glanced at his watch, made his excuses, and waved as he walked away. We both watched him go and then Cora turned to me with an inquisitive smile.

"So, Sam, what was it you wanted to talk to me about?" She cocked her head as we sat down. "I don�t imagine you�re going to ask me for a date, considering who just introduced us."

"No, nothing like that. Well. Not exactly like that." She raised an eyebrow. "It�s complicated and convoluted and — I admit it — more than a little strange." I cleared my throat, suddenly a bit nervous. "See, I�m here as a sort of emissary, on behalf of a friend. A girl friend. I mean, a friend who�s a girl." I took a deep breath. "She�s a major fan of yours, Cora. In all sorts of ways. To make it short, my friend — who is a very, very nice person — has a flaming crush on you. She�s sort of gay. And maybe sort of not. But she really, really wants to meet you and just, you know, see what happens. Except that she�s also kind of shy and she�s afraid she might be rebuffed out of hand.

"She told me about all this but she doesn�t know I�m actually here," I went on, noting Cora�s eyebrows, which were now crowding her hairline. She wasn�t laughing and sneering, which was good. "I like her a lot and so I decided to see if I could help. �Cause you can just tell me to take a hike and it won�t hurt my feelings. And then I�ll think of some way to dissuade her from embarrassing herself, and that will be that."

Cora folded her arms and gave me a searching look. "You�re serious, right? I get the feeling you�re interested in this girl yourself — but you�re here, what, trying to set her up with me? Yes, that is more than a little strange." She crossed one muscular leg over the other knee and ran her fingers through her ponytail, sorting out the tangles while she thought about my story. "First things first. Tell me a little about her."

So I did that, concentrating on P.J.�s good points — well, honestly, she didn�t actually have any bad points — and hinting at the lusty nature of her interest in this athletic young woman without actually coming right out with it. When I ran down, Cora shook her head slowly in what I decided was bemusement.

"This has got to be the absolutely strangest request for a date, or whatever, that I have ever heard in my life. And I�m going to assume this isn�t all just an elaborate prank by some of my peculiar friends, because you�ve gotta know I would slap you silly if it were." I crossed my heart and she nodded. "But it�s so strange, you actually have me interested. I kind of want to see what happens next."

She took a deep breath and fixed me with a gaze that would probably stop a charging bull. "Okay, um, Sam, here�s what�s going to happen. I have all sorts of obligations for my time — just saying — so I�m going to check my schedule when I get back and then I�ll call you with a couple of possibilities. And you will set up a meet between me and this friend of yours, P.J." She shrugged and smiled, which came out very warm and friendly, actually. "And, as you say, we�ll see what happens. At most, an hour or two lost forever, right? I�m young, I can handle that."

I stood up when she did. "Cora, thank you so much! I think you�re going to like her, at the very least. In fact, I know you will."

She grinned at my obvious relief. "Not a problem. Just doing my bit for world harmony. And you never know, right?"

Two days later, late in the afternoon, I escorted a rather nervous P.J. across campus to the running track. She had been appalled at what I had done — but only for about two minutes, and then she became practically giddy. She worried over what to wear, and whether she should have her hair done first. It convinced me she was serious, at least, since she was acting like a high school girl with a heavy crush on the star quarterback. But I calmed her down and convinced her to "just be yourself," if she could figure out what that was.

She clutched my hand tightly as we walked, the fluttery summer dress she had finally decided on billowing in the light breeze. It was a very warm early spring, so she�d had lots of options, but she had settled on being "girly," perhaps in unconscious contrast to her view of Cora.

The stands along the track were mostly empty and as we came to the top of the short entrance tunnel, I saw Cora just taking a seat in the middle of a row. Surprisingly, she�d worn a dress, too, a rather short corduroy skirt that showed off those legs. I would have expected sweat pants, but maybe she had decided to make an impression.

We sidled along the row just in front of her so I could make the introductions. The taller girl looked P.J. up and down and smiled. My friend had her hands tucked behind her to hide her fidgeting but she was quick to shake hands. Cora held on to P.J.�s fingers and helped her move up a row so the two could sit side by side. They could be mistaken for acquaintances in a chance meeting in a public place, or something, but no one was close enough to overhear anything they might say. Useful protective coloration for both of them, I supposed, whatever might happen.

I took my leave a few moments later, obviously now the odd one out as the two young women entered into a cautious conversation. I�d done what I came to do and I tried to be happy with that. If this worked out for my friend, that was great. If she continued to keep me on her sexual radar as well, that was even better. I, too, would have to wait and see what happened next. It seemed we were all doing that.

Just by the coincidence of class schedules, tutorials, a sudden onset of rainy weather, and necessary research in the library, I didn�t see either P.J. or Cora for a couple of days. Then, as I was about to enter the back door of my dorm — the grubbier side of the building that parents are never supposed to see — I heard a piercing contralto holler "Sam!"

I turned around as P.J. came pelting across the street, bookbag thumping against her back. She threw herself on me and hugged me around the neck. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

I pulled a chestnut curl out of my mouth. "I take it things went well?"

"Oh, Sam, we sat out there and talked for at least an hour! Then she had to leave to go to a coaching session or something, but we arranged to meet again after supper — and then we just walked around campus and talked about everything! Cora is so great, Sam!" She was actually bouncing up and down on her toes.

"Well, I�m glad it seems to be working out."

"It is. I really think it really, really is — really!" I couldn�t help but laugh at that locution. "And there�s more! She called and invited me up to her room tonight — at ten o�clock! I think she wants to do it with me, Sam, I really do!" She hugged me again, then began backing away. "Listen, I have to be at a study group, but I just had to thank you! �Bye!"

And she was off, jogging gleefully down the walk. I stood there a minute and watched her go, just enjoying the sight. It might have been the only time in recent history that a girl has thanked a guy so enthusiastically for making it possible for her to fuck another girl.

So time matched on, you know, the way it does. I ran into P.J. now and then, and we ate lunch together a couple of times. And now that we actually knew each other, Cora and I began passing the time of day before or after design class. And she, too, thanked me for orchestrating that introduction, though with more restraint. Apparently, she was as much taken with bubbly little P.J. as I was. But I wasn�t going on any more dates and the next time the art house theater ran a classic film I wanted to see — Ferris Bueller, in fact — I went by myself.

My twentieth birthday came around almost a month later and I prepared to mostly ignore it, as I had ever since passing sixteen. Geeks aren�t really into arbitrary occasions for celebration like birthdays. My folks sent me a card and a nice check, and my grandmother sent me a card and a nice sweater I didn�t really need, and my kid sister — who actually understood me better than anyone else in my family — sent 0me1 a very jokey card and a six-pack of her Girl Scout cookies. She knows I�m a Do-Si-Dos junkie.

And then, the Friday morning of my actual birthday, which I would have sworn no one at school outside the Dean�s office would have known the date of, I got a call from P.J. as I was walking past the long Reflecting Pool on the way to my first class.

"Happy birthday!" she trilled. "Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday, dear Sa-a-a-a-am. . . ."

It was so unexpected, I had to pause in my walking to laugh. "How in the world did you---"

"I�ll never tell, but vee haff our vays! But listen, Sam, I know you think I�ve forgotten all about you and about what got the two of us together in the first place. And I want you to know that I�ve been thinking about you a lot. Don�t get me wrong, Cora and I are having a wonderful time together, but there�s room in my heart for both of you. And room in other places, too," she added in a smoky whisper. "So there�s something I really, really want to give you for your birthday. Something very special. Could you come over tonight, Sam, kind of late? To my room? My roommate�s taking off right after supper and she�ll be gone all weekend. So it�s just us, okay?"

I swallowed. Sounded like my hopes were suddenly being resurrected, but I wasn�t going to ask any questions and jinx things. I told her I�d be there with bells on — whatever that means — and she gave me her room number. I didn�t remember much about any of my classes that day.

P.J.�s dorm, like mine, was co-ed, but each floor was single-sex, which was a good compromise. Girls didn�t have to worry about boys barging into their rooms unasked, and they didn�t have to share bathrooms with them, but no one was monitoring the inter-floor traffic. And I had noted that after nominal bedtime arrived, the girls� floors were nearly always quieter than the boys�.

I walked down the dim fourth-floor hallway around ten-thirty, scanning the numbers on the doors, peripherally aware of muted music and conversations and laughter from the rooms I passed. P.J. was right in the middle, opposite the fire stairs. There was a poster from the last World Cup pinned to the door.

I tapped quietly with my fingernails and the door swung open instantly, like she had been waiting for me with her hand on the latch. I must have look startled because she grinned as she took my arm and pulled me inside. I had almost expected a negligee but she wore the usual tee-shirt and shorts above bare feet.

"I happened to be looking out the window at the moon and I saw you coming in the main door down below. The top of your head is very distinctive, Sam."

I glanced around as I shucked my windbreaker and the first thing I noticed was the retro Lava Lamp on the bedside table. I love those things, even though I�ve never gotten around to actually buying one.

The second thing, as I turned around, other than the lack of a crowd of people jumping out and yelling "surprise!" (and which had been in the back of my suspicious mind) was P.J. slipping a Holiday Inn DO NOT DISTURB sign on the outside latch before she shut and locked the door.

And then I didn�t notice anything else for awhile because she pulled me into one of those mind-warping kisses we seemed to be so good at with each other. It reminded me of just how much I had missed making out with her. She held my face in her hands and made little sounds in her throat as she ground our mouths together. I closed my eyes and totally ignored the rest of the universe for the duration. I would have been content to stand there kissing P.J. forever, but she finally pulled back with a sigh and looked deep into my eyes.

"I�ve been thinking a lot about doing that, Sam. I love kissing you. And I intend to do it again, very soon, but I think maybe we should pace ourselves." She had an impish expression I wanted to explore further.

"Now, where did I put your birthday present. . . ?" She turned in a circle, looking everywhere, forefinger to her lower lip. "Oh! It�s right here!" She took a step back, hands tucked behind her, and bent one knee against the other in the classic model pose. She smiled up at me from under those thick lashes. "Do you want to unwrap it now?"

I had spent so much time earlier in the term trying to scheme a way to get to this point, but my feelings had shifted some in the meantime. Before, it was just ordinary lust. Now, the lust was still there, and in magnified quantities, but I had also come to really care about P.J. And I liked her a lot, too, just as a person. All of which meant my feelings were more complex than they had been as I took her into my arms again, but that didn�t slow me down any.

She leaned against me, hands spread on my chest, as I kissed her ear and then that long neck. I ran my hands down her back and noticed the lack of a bra strap, so I raised the bottom of her shirt. She moved back a few inches and raised her arms so I could lift it over her head. She closed her eyes and her lips parted as I leaned her back, then bent and fastened my lips over a stiff pink nipple. She tasted lovely.

I couldn�t help but picture big Cora licking and teasing this same small tit, and I was interested to find I didn�t feel jealous about that at all. Probably, if it had been another guy, I would have. But a girl? Nope. Apparently, my back-brain just didn�t consider her competition. Very strange. P.J. played with my hair as I switched to the other breast, licking all around it and then focusing on the rigid tip again. Beats me how any infant could ever voluntarily switch to a bottle.

After a minute or so, I steered her back to her bed. It was easy to tell which of the two was hers. One had a severe blue duvet and a portrait of Bach hanging above it. The other featured scalloped ruffles, lots of pink, and a teddy bear. Well, the bear would just have to share.

We sprawled on the bed and I kissed her again as I unbuttoned her shorts. I realized I was following the ancient male strategy of seduction by distraction, which probably never actually works anyway, but which was certainly unnecessary in this case. Force of habit, I guess.

P.J. rolled onto her back and lifted her hips so I could work her shorts down, which left her relaxed and smiling up at me in only a pair of red bikini panties. She raised both eyebrows and grinned, waiting to see how long it would take me to finish unwrapping my present. Not long, actually.

I knelt beside her, still fully dressed, and began planting kisses all across her torso and ribcage. It tickled and her muscles rippled as she giggled. When I got as far as her belly button, I hooked my fingers in the elastic and slid them down just ahead of my lips. There was no pubic hair, which didn�t really surprise me in these days of thongs and ultra-brief bikinis. Just bare, smooth, warm flesh, right down to her clit, tucked out of sight in its sheath.

She raised her knees gracefully and I removed her panties and added them to the small heap of clothing I had been building on the rattan chair beside the bed. I sat back on my heels and just looked her up and down, lying there calm and trusting and naked. Complete trust like that can be very erotic. She let her hand drift down her body and one tapering, brightly colored fingertip stroked the top of her pussy, just once. And her eyes never left mine.

I glanced down at myself: Still clothed. How the hell had that happened? I started to pull up my shirt but my companion sat up immediately and raised a warning finger.

"Uh-uh. My turn."

She quickly pulled off my shirt, then crouched with a smirk and began licking and sucking my nipples, which reacted in a manner not unlike hers. Who said male nipples have no function?

She flipped off my loafers, unbuckled my belt, and unbuttoned my jeans, then sat back for a moment. "Enough?" I provided a not entirely fake moan as encouragement. "Okay, let�s see what else we can discover in here." She carefully slid the zipper down and began working the denim over my hips. My cock was already straining for release and she cocked her head. "What�s all, this, then?" She pulled my briefs down to mid-thigh and my erection sprang up, ready for action. "Look what I found," she said in an approving tone.

I should perhaps note at this point that while I�m not excessively tall — only about five-ten and a half — and while I wear only size nine shoes (the traditional indicator), I�m pretty sure my amatory equipment is somewhat larger than the national average. I knew this from surreptitious comparisons in the gym showers in high school, and from a certain amount of clandestine research online. Not bragging, you understand. Just saying. Mere size doesn�t matter, they say, and that may be true, but its still good for the ego.

P.J. restrained herself till she had me as naked as she was. Then she put a hand on each ankle, spread my legs in a wide vee, and knelt between them. Giving me another broad smile, she bent and began dragging her long, practically prehensile tongue slowly up the whole length of my cock. Pixies began playing paradiddles on my eardrums.

When she reached the top, she glanced at me again, then took the whole head in her mouth and applied suction that made my toes curl. I could feel her tongue wrapping itself around me in there, too. Then she took in a little more of it and paused. Then a little more, and sort of wiggled the shaft from side to side, and then more. I raised my head and stared as nearly all of my (as noted) lengthy penis disappeared from view.

As I said at the beginning, I was a geek both before and after I got to college, and I was never a ladies� man, regardless of the sometimes hopped-upstate of my hormones. But I had never been a monk, either. I had made out successfully (meaning there were no complaints on either side) with a number of girls, had gotten half to three-quarters naked with a couple of them, and had sealed the deal with one girl on three separate occasions. I�d had highly enjoyable blow-jobs from several girls, too, usually those who were wildly horny themselves but were reluctant to fuck. That was okay. You take what comes. But I had never met a girl who was comfortable taking in more than the head of my cock and maybe one-third of the shaft. And here was little P.J. deep-throating me on the first attempt.

She got all the way down to where my short and curlies were tickling her nose and I estimated the head of my dick must be more than halfway down her throat. She sort of froze there for a few seconds and I guessed she was forcing herself not to gag. Then she raised her head smoothly and my cock slithered out looking satisfied with its journey.

"Damn," I said, and she gave me that triumphantly lopsided little grin again.

"I�ve been practicing — with a smoked sausage, dummy!" she added at my expression. "I didn�t know you were going to be so big, though, and I wasn�t sure I could manage it." She stroked my penis slowly for a moment, lifting it to peer underneath — checking that my balls were still there, I guess.

"Sam," she said finally, "I�d love to suck you off completely and make you come in my mouth. I�ve never done that before, but I want to with you. I�d really like to taste your cum. But that would mean we�d have to wait for awhile for you to reload, or recharge, or whatever it�s called, right?" She released my erection and began crawling slowly up my body. "I don�t want to wait that long, Sam. I want to fuck you and I want it right now." Now her nose was an inch from mine. "We can do all the other stuff later. We�ve got all night."

I kissed her again, more hungrily this time, and she rolled onto her back, legs spread and knees drawn back. I could the glint of moisture in the dim light of the Lava Lamp.

"Wait," I muttered, feeling around on the floor for my jeans. "I gotta. . . ."

"Sam? Top drawer." I looked up to see her waving her finger at the bedside table. I reached over and slid the drawer open. She�d laid in a ten-pack of Trojans. I had a couple of not-new foil packets in my back pocket — all I�d had available when she called — and these were a great improvement.

P.J. watched with interest as I unrolled the first condom down my impatient erection. "Neat. I�ve never seen that done before. I�m not a virgin, Sam, but I�ve only done it twice, in the back seat of a car, in the dark. Not very comfortable and you can�t really see what�s going on." She raised her arms to me as I got positioned between those long, slender legs. "This is better. Much, much better."

So neither of us had a lot of notches on our . . . whatever. That was okay. I�d rather play with the enthusiastic amateurs than the jaded professionals any day, and I suspected P.J. felt the same way. (Though I wasn�t going to ask her). But one thing I was sure of: I was going to stretch out this first time with her for as long as possible. I wanted this debut experience to last, for both of us.

With that in mind, I began by rubbing the head of my encased cock slowly up and down the opening it was aiming at. P.J. spread her thighs a bit farther and lifted her ass in anticipation. I was becoming aware of a slight and perfumy aroma rising from her.

"Don�t tease so much, Sam," she murmured.

Well, the lady�s always in charge as far as I�m concerned, so I leaned forward on my elbows and pressed carefully forward. She reached down and spread herself open with her fingers and I watched the first inch slip into her. The number of nerve endings in my cock, already considerable, had just been multiplied by a million. My penis slid farther and farther into her depths, spreading apart the walls of her warm cunt. P.J. pushed her head back against her pillow and sucked in a long, hissing breath.

"Ohhhhhhhhhh, Sammmmmm, . . ." The heat of her yearning focused my mind to a pinpoint. Her body writhed slowly, her arms stretched out to the sides, she jammed her fists back under her pillow, she turned her head from side to side, and she moaned quietly. It was all immensely arousing. As if I needed any additional encouragement.

I could sort of feel the obstruction when I reached the end of her passage and maybe a quarter of me was still outside. Close enough. If I tried to bury myself entirely in her smaller body, I�d only cause her pain, and I certainly wasn�t going to do that. Still moving slow, I withdrew from her partway, then pressed in again.

"Oh, God. . . . Mmmmmmm. . . . Oh, yes. . . ." Her breathy murmurs were making my ears warm. I knew I would lose control eventually, but I continued to try to control the pace, to make this last as long as possible. P.J. had become my entire universe. Then, oddly, as I glanced up at her face, I saw that she had covered her mouth with both hands and her eyes were dancing mischievously.

And then I levitated about two inches in shock as a hand firmly squeezed my ass and a warm female voice in the tenor range said "Hi, Sam. Happy birthday!"

I gasped and tried to twist to look over my shoulder without losing contact and P.J. grabbed my hips and held on tight to keep me inside her as she went into a fit of giggles.

Cora sauntered around into view and gave me an ironic little finger-wave. She was grinning ear to ear and she was also completely naked. "Thought I�d join the party," she said. "I was getting way too horny eavesdropping on all this."

I was still in shock. "Where---?"

She hooked a thumb toward the bathroom. "In there. I was awaiting the moment for my grand entrance." She struck a pose, hands on hips. "Do you like your other present?"

"Statuesque" was the description I had thought before and it certainly applied. Cora looked like she had been sculpted by an ancient Greek. Long legs with smooth, no-nonsense muscles, but not bulging anywhere. Narrow waist and flat, hard-looking stomach. No pubic hair there, either, and what seemed a much more prominent clit. High, full breasts, considerably larger than P.J.�s but nice and firm. She had an overall light tan with no strap marks, and that enhanced the vision.

I was beginning to catch on, finally, and my grin undoubtedly matched both girls�. I was going to be sharing a bed with two gorgeous women? Even my masturbatory fantasies had never extended that far. But I still couldn�t quite believe it and Cora saw that on my face.

I was still buried in P.J.�s cunt — my erection had sort of hit the PAUSE button — and as Cora sat down beside my hip she was careful not to disturb the arrangement. She ran her hand lightly down my back and over the curve of my ass, which gave me a new set of shivers. Then her hand continued around and under and took a light grip on my balls. More shivers.

"Sam, this girl you introduced me to has made a big change in my life. I�ve never met anyone like her before. And I know she feels good things for me, as I do for her." I saw them exchange loving smiles. "But I knew she was also thinking about you, and we talked about it, and I convinced her she could have the best of both sides of the track." She shrugged. "I�m queer as anything, you already know that, and so does everyone else — but I also still like guys, on a selective basis, and that isn�t so well known. I think P.J. is rather like me in that respect, and that�s fine, too." She squeezed a little and smiled at me again. "So we discussed it at length, and here we are. She thinks the world of you, you know, Sam. And she seems to have good judgment, so I figured �What the hell.� I haven�t played both sides myself in awhile, and this seemed like a good opportunity. Known quantities and all that."

She withdrew her hand and stretched her long body out beside us, sinuous as a cat. A very big cat. She stretched up and kissed P.J. firmly on the mouth, and my partner returned it, even as she reached down between her legs to hold my cock and try to push it up into herself again. God, I might lose my mind tonight, I thought, but what a way to go.

Cora looked back and raised an eyebrow. "Go on with what you were doing, you two. I may be wild and crazy but I�ve never been in a threesome before, and I want to watch." She covered P.J.�s nearest breast with a large, finely molded hand and the smaller girl�s eyelids fluttered. "I want to see you fucking her, Sam. I want to see you come inside her. I want to watch her climax because of your dick in there." Her voice was low and urging now and her eyes seemed to glow. As much as I was enjoying what I was doing with P.J., part of my mind was beginning to wonder what screwing a cooperative, aroused Cora would be like.

I began moving again, my erection having fully maintained itself somehow, and the sight of Cora fastening her lips to the nipple I�d been nursing a short while before added to the erotic heat. P.J. herself had her eyes screwed shut and her mouth wide open, and she seemed transported to another planet.

I adjusted how my knees were placed so I could move one hand to stroke Cora�s long flank. She flicked me a glance and smiled around the nipple she was nibbling. She had lovely, smooth skin and the cords of strength beneath the surface were surprisingly sexy. I wouldn�t have thought I would be physically attracted to a woman who was larger and so much stronger than myself, but she was completely feminine even with all that. Cora was a strong personality, too, and she had a natural assumption of command, which was increased by her size — she always held people�s attention — but she really wasn�t at all "butch."

My cock reclaimed my attention, though, as I resumed fucking P.J. I could see Cora watching my penis coming and going even as she added her own lovemaking. She was pinching the nipple between sharp-looking incisors and stroking the girl�s stomach, her fingers drifting down to within a millimeter of her clit, but she didn�t interfere. P.J. was getting close to the jump-off-the-cliff point, I could tell, and I wasn�t far behind. The combination of sensations was just too much for my previous plan of slow sex. I picked up the pace, I couldn�t help it, and in a few seconds I was pounding into her cunt, though I was still trying to hold back my thrusts so my extra length wouldn�t hurt her.

Cora raised her head and watched closely when P.J. and I reached our orgasms nearly simultaneously, jerking and trembling and holding tightly to each other. She seemed to approve. My arms were shaking a little, but Cora�s upper body was a bit in the way and I couldn�t just collapse on top of them both. I gasped a couple of deep breaths and carefully rolled off on the other side.

Cora got her first look at my equipment and blinked, eyebrows bouncing up. "Wow," she said. "No one told me you were so hung."

P.J. laughed breathlessly. "Me, neither. Nice surprise, though, as it turns out." She let her splayed legs slide back together

The larger girl reached across and took my erection, now beginning to deflate, in her palm. "You know, it�s kind of too bad you had to wear a condom, Sam. I would have liked to taste your semen in her pussy." Her grin was hot and wicked and my mind was still trying to adjust to altered circumstances. "Still," she added, "there are other ways."

She shifted around and laid herself across P.J.�s legs and put her head in my lap. Then she carefully peeled off the used membrane, tied a quick knot in the end, and set it aside. I wondered what plans she had for it. But then my attention was suddenly on her mouth, which engulfed my bare, semi-limb cock and sucked, her tongue moving around it, removing all remaining traces of my climax. The nerve endings were still jangled and I thought my head was going to explode, it felt so amazing. P.J. was stroking Cora�s ass as she watched. I thought about the long night ahead and wished I�d eaten more Wheaties.

A few minutes later, I found myself lengthwise on the bed with a scrumptiously athletic female cozied up against me. Cora had decided she wanted to be kissed by a guy for a change and I was doing my best. She surprised me again by being rather docile in that regard. Rather than leaping on me and taking charge, she waited for me to take the lead, then kissed me back very thoroughly. She tasted different from P.J. and had a different style, but it was a very pleasant experience.

P.J., meanwhile, had spooned up behind her, stretched an arm over, and was caressing her breast and squeezing her nipple. I could tell the effect that was having on Cora by the way she twitched slightly every few seconds. She was slowly stroking my cock, which was returning to life, and massaging my shin with her instep. In return, I was moving my hands everywhere they could reach. I would have been happy to remain like that the rest of the night, but the ladies obviously had other plans.

Cora finally pulled back and regarded me with a deep, warm gaze. She stroked my cheek lightly and said "I�m beginning to understand what Philly sees in you." "Philly?" I thought in amazement. P.J.�s real name was "Philly?" Or "Phyllis," probably. The secret was out but I knew I�d keep it to myself. "Now, I think it�s my turn," she went on. "Are you going to fuck me, too, Sam? Because I think you�d better, and soon."

"Yes, ma�am. Coming right up." I hesitated, wondering if she had a positional preference for non-lesbian sex, but she shifted over onto her hands and knees. She looked up at me with what seemed almost to be a tinge of embarrassment. "Pretend I�m not bigger than you, Sam," she murmured. "Pretend I�m smaller than P.J. and you�re completely in charge."

O-ka-a-a-ay. . . . I guess we all have our sexual fantasies, right? I could certainly accommodate Cora�s apparent preference to be dominated — at least this time, in this situation. But I was going to be very careful about it. It was only maybe twenty minutes since my orgasm and I wasn�t quite sure I could perform again so quickly, but P.J. took that in hand — literally.

I moved in behind Cora, who had spread her knees apart and put her arms and shoulders flat on the bed. Her muscular ass and open pussy made a lovely target and I began slowly stropping the head of my cock up and down her crotch. Cora squirmed and made interesting little noises in her throat. Then P.J. pressed her tits against my back and reached around me with one hand to grasp the shaft of my penis. I let go and she continued rubbing the head against her friend�s increasingly moist pussy.

"Ready?" she whispered in my ear. My cock was rigid again within seconds and I hastily donned another condom. Then she pushed my cock into Cora. "Fuck her good, Sam," she murmured. "I want her to feel you inside her. More important, she wants you in her. Do it, Sam. Make her come the way you made me come."

Fucking Cora was as great as fucking P.J., but for different reasons. I liked Cora but I didn�t have the same kind of emotional involvement with her. On the other hand, on a purely physical level, being so much taller also meant that Cora had a deeper cunt. For the first time that I could remember with any girl, I didn�t have to pull my punches. I could slam into her as hard and as deep as I wanted without fear of hurting her.

Also, even though she was larger than P.J., she somehow seemed tighter. Maybe because she seldom had sex with a guy, I don�t know, but all my penile nerve endings were getting the royal treatment. To top it off, Cora also had an amazing degree of control over her vaginal muscles, squeezing my cock and releasing it like there were dozens of tiny hands in there milking me. So I knelt this athletic young woman, staring down at her lovely bottom, pushing in and out of her most-of-the-time lesbian pussy, and wondering vaguely what might happen if I were to reach down and screw my middle finger into her asshole. I decided that would be a very chancy move without advance clearance, but still, it was altogether an amazing experience.

P.J. had also come along for the ride, sort of. She had no hesitancy at all about fondling and stroking my ass or reaching under to squeeze my balls. I don�t know why I had ever thought she was shy. Finally, she reached around and the larger girl a stinging slap on the ass. Cora jerked and gave a small yelp.

"She likes that," P.J. said in a low voice. "Sometimes, anyway." Better P.J. should do that than me, I thought. There was nothing sexy about a fat lip. I had settled into a steady, thrusting rhythm, my stomach slapping against Cora�s quivering ass. Her thick ponytail was whipping back and forth and, without really thinking about it, I grabbed hold of it and yanked. Cora gasped and then gave a throaty moan as her head was abruptly jerked back. She dug her fingers into the sheets and began moving in forceful counterpoint to my strokes, pushing back hard against me.

I was beginning to get seriously out of breath when I finally felt the pressures gathering back in my groin somewhere. A couple of final, shuddering thrusts and the dam burst. I was seeing little pinwheels at the corners of my vision. When I was drained, I collapsed on top of my partner, both of us gasping and puffing.

"Did you. . . ?" I managed to get out.

Cora gulped for air. "God, yes!" She reached up behind her and stroked my hip. "That was terrific, Sam. I�m sure I never came like that in my life, not with a guy. You just jumped to the top of my list of Favorite Bed Partners with a Dick."

This time, when we rearranged ourselves, Cora took the middle position in the bed with P.J. and I on either side, her licking the nearest firm tit and me slowly stroking and occasionally pinching Cora�s clit. For some reason, I didn�t want to give her time to completely cool down. I wanted to keep her aroused, and I seemed to be successful because she kept squirming as she took shaky breaths and her eyes drifted closed.

Then P.J. grinned across at me. "Three people can be paired in three distinct combinations, right? Basic math. And there�s one combination we haven�t gotten to yet." And with that, she rolled over atop Cora, who wrapped her arms around her, and the two of them disappeared into an extremely steamy kiss.

I just watched in fascination as they gnawed gently at each other�s lips and fought a duel with their tongues, which both of them won. Then, without pausing in what she was doing, Cora looked up at me and raised her eyebrows, as if to say "What are you waiting for?"

I scooted down to the south end of the two young women. Cora�s legs were splayed wide and P.J. lay between her thighs — though because of her smaller size, her knees were nearly up to the larger girl�s crotch. I carefully took hold of Cora�s ankles and lifted. She got the idea, raised her legs, and pointed her toes at the ceiling. P.J. glanced over her shoulder at me, then hooked her arms behind Cora�s knees and pressed them back against her chest. From my vantage, I now had a clear view of two steaming cunts, one very close on top of the other. God, I thought, if only I had two dicks.

I quickly lay on my stomach and buried my face in P.J.�s pussy, since it was slightly more accessible. While I nuzzled and licked her clit, and she jerked and gasped into Cora�s mouth, I also slipped a couple of fingers into the other waiting pussy, all the way to the third knuckle. Cora�s hips writhed and she humped against my invading hand.

After several minutes of this, I was becoming a little drunk on the combined erotic aromas. I lowered my head and began lapping at Cora�s pussy instead. In my peripheral vision, I could see her toes curling. And this time, since it was P.J. and I thought I knew her better, I did work a finger deep into an unoccupied asshole. I heard her gulp and whisper "Oh, God. . . ."

A bit later, we had reconfigured once again, this time into a loose, overlapping triangle, cushioning our heads on each other�s thighs. I was still aroused, at least mentally, and neither of the girls seemed likely to quit soon. Cora, whose cheek was on my thigh, was alternately licking the head of my cock and sucking on it, but I could only summon up maybe a quarter of an erection. It was going to be a little while yet.

I thought about it. I had fucked P.J. and I had fucked Cora, but they hadn�t fucked each other. I wondered how girls fucked each other. And then I remembered a scene in a porn flick I had seen in someone�s room the previous year, with a couple of girls in what one of the other guys called a "scissors." The room had been crowded and I�d had more beer than usual, but I sort of remembered two female crotches grinding together. Could I suggest something like that to my two companions? Maybe if I led up to it gradually.

I cleared my throat. "Ladies? Could I ask a question, like in the spirit of scientific inquiry? All this is new to me, obviously."

Cora raised her head and lifted her eyebrows in the other girl�s direction. P.J. smiled and shrugged. "What do you want to want to know, Sam?"

"Well, . . . when the two of you are, uh, making love, what exactly is it you do? I mean, I can guess at sixty-nine, but somehow I don�t picture one of you using a dildo on the other."

Cora grinned. "I think sticking one thing into another thing is pretty much a male view of what �sex� means. Even a really butch chick isn�t likely to pine for a penis or go searching for a substitute."

"I think girls approach sex more abstractly or something," P.J. chimed in. "Cora and I can cuddle and make out and kiss and lick each other until we both come. It�s different from sex with you, Sam. Just as great, but completely different."

"Well, I saw this thing in a flick once," I went on, having given up on subtlety. "Two women, crotch to crotch, and---"

"Scissors," Cora said. "Yeah, I�ve done that a couple times — but not with you," she added, turning to the other girl, who was looking interested. "Sometimes it works, other times you just get a muscle cramp."

"I think we should try it," P.J. laughed. "Sam�s hoping we will, aren�t you, Sam?"

Cora shrugged. "Sure, if you want to. Is that what you want, Sam? You want to watch two girls trying to fuck for real?"

"If two beautiful women would like to introduce their pussies to each other, I would be a very interested spectator."

It only took them a few moments to shift around and get themselves into position, leaning back on their elbows in the middle of the bed facing each other, legs spread wide. They inched their bodies closer, lifting their right legs and fitting themselves together.

Cora paused. "With all the exercise my cunt has had tonight, I think I want some lubrication." She nodded toward a pump-bottle of body lotion on the bedside table. "Sam, would you do the honors?"

I took my time with the lotion, making sure every part of each crotch was well covered. Both clits got a light massage into the bargain, which I figured would give them a running start. Both of them were flushed and breathing a little heavier by the time I sat back.

"Closer," Cora murmured. "Come to me, babe." P.J. wiggled the last inch or two and pressed her pussy against Cora�s, who made another of those small, urgent sounds and cocked her hip, rubbing her clit against P.J.�s.

P.J. jerked a little, then pushed back and rotated her hips in the other direction. Now Cora bit her lower lip. "I want---"

But I could see what she wanted. There was no fat on Cora anywhere but her pelvis was thicker than the smaller girl�s. They didn�t quite line up. I hopped up, grabbed of the thin throw pillows off the roommate�s bed, and slid it under P.J.�s ass. Perfect.

Now they began in earnest, pushing their pussies together and grinding them against each other. I reached out and spread each pussy open so the inner surfaces of their labia came into contact.

"Oh, yes-s-s-s," P.J. hissed. Cora made that throat sound again. They kept at it, twin flushes moving down their bodies as their clits rubbed against each other. It was an incredible sight. I imagined for a moment two hermaphrodites, each with both a cock and a cunt, fucking each other simultaneously. What a fantasy.

After several minutes, both girls were breathing hard and fast, their leg muscles were trembling, and I could practically see wisps of smoke rising from their jittering crotches. Cora got there first, gulping and jerking a little as the climax roared through her. But she kept moving for the thirty seconds it took the smaller girl to reach her orgasm.

They both fell flat on their backs, gasping and puffing. A sheen of sweat filmed both heated bodies and the air was so thick with pheromones, it would have been dangerous to light a match.

P.J. finally managed to push herself nearly to the vertical, though her friend lay with her arms outspread like a very erotic starfish. "Oh, Cora, that was wonderful! It really was almost like real fucking!" Cora raised her head, smiled, and let it flop back again. She was so close to the side of the bed, her head was almost hanging off, chin pointing at the ceiling.

I stared for a moment at the way her throat was bared and her ponytail dangled over the side, and I had a sudden vision. My cock, which had worked itself up halfway to a new erection and gotten stuck there, experienced a sudden resurgence. I hopped up and stood behind Cora, who tilted her head back a little more and peered up at me.

I slid my hands under her arms and tugged. "Scoot back just a little more, sweetheart." She blinked but accepted the endearment. "P.J.," I said, "I want you to sit on her, pin her down. I want her helpless."

Cora stared at me upside-down, eyes widening as P.J., after a moment�s hesitation, straddled her torso and leaned her weight on the taller girl�s outstretched arms. "Yes," she whispered. Of course, she could flip P.J. off in an instant, but the illusion of being unable to move was enough.

I knelt for a moment and gave Cora a lingering kiss with full tongue. "I�m going to deep-throat you," I said.

She swallowed, then smiled again."Do it, Sam. Fuck me. Hard."

Before she had a chance to open her mouth, I slipped my fingers in and moved her jaw myself. Then I imply leaned forward and slid my oversized cock into her mouth. I took it slow, so Cora wouldn�t either choke or bite my dick off. P.J. leaned forward so she could see better and Cora�s fingers twisted under the added pressure. If the two girls had switched positions, P.J. really wouldn�t have been able to move.

On the first few slow thrusts, I tried to judge where the back of Cora�s throat was and stopped just before I reached it. I could feel her epiglottis with the head of my cock. Then, as I was pulling back, she made a small gagging sound. I quickly withdrew completely and she coughed and cleared her throat. "I can do it," she whispered. "I know I can."

"Breathe through your nose," P.J. told her. "That�s how I did it."

I thrust back in, holding her head in both hands and pushing a little farther this time, and Cora followed instructions. I could hear the air whistling in and out through her nostrils. After a couple more strokes, I pushed harder and could feel the head of my penis move down into throat. Cora made a sort of gargling sound but she didn�t resist or struggle. Like a sword-swallower, she had figured out how to relax the muscles. I could see the outline of my dick in there on the next stroke. P.J. saw it, too, and grinned up at me.

When the smaller girl had deep-throated me earlier, it had felt great, but she had done all the work. I had been just a passive participant. This time, I was in charge. Clearly, that was how Cora wanted it, too — at least this time, in these circumstances. It came to me that she was showing an enormous amount of trust in P.J. and me.

Domination can have a sexual component all its own, for some people. Cora was a naturally dominant personality and she handled it well, but this other side of her was very sexy, too. On the other hand, I�m more of a diplomat myself, not ordinarily dominant at all, so perhaps Cora had simply decided I was "safe" for the games she sometimes chose to play.

The immediate effect on me was that I could feel the pressure beginning to build yet again. "I�m coming," I gasped, and I could feel Cora tense up, but she didn�t fight it. When I erupted a few seconds later, it was on an especially hard thrust. My penis was maybe halfway down her throat as I jerked, trying not to squeeze her head too hard, and shot at least two loads of semen into her stomach. I didn�t have much left, which was just as well. My balls must be flat and empty. It would be a week, probably, before I could manage another orgasm.

I pulled out immediately and Cora began coughing and wheezing. I hoped none of that had gotten into her lungs. P.J. quickly slid off and helped me roll the taller girl onto her stomach. It took her a minute to clear her throat and to take several deep breaths while the other girl stroked her back. She took several careful sips from a water bottle P.J. handed her. Then she got her elbows under her, cleared her throat again, and looked at me with a very strange expression.

"Damn, Sam." She smiled at the unintentional alliteration. "I must have been a harem slave or something in an earlier life. That was the scariest sex thing I�ve ever done — and I loved it." She patted my thigh and I think I sighed in relief. "Don�t worry, Sam. That�s the sort of thing I wanted from you tonight and you definitely delivered." She paused thoughtfully. "I don�t think I�d let anyone else do that to me, though. So that makes you special. And I�d rather---"

"Everything that has happened in this room between the three of us stays in this room," I said. "Nobody�s business but ours."

Both girls smiled at me this time. "Good. Thank you," P.J. said.

"And nobody would believe you anyway," Cora added.

"Well, yeah, that too."

No one suggested that I should head back to my own dorm, so I stayed the night. I�m not sure I could have walked that far unaided anyway. We ended up pushing the two beds together to make room for all three of us. P.J. shrugged when I asked whether her roommate wouldn�t mind, because I could just fold up a blanket pad on the floor.

"I�ll fix everything before she gets back. Besides, she owes me a couple of favors. Also besides, I want to actually sleep with you, Sam. And with Cora."

"Same here," the other girl said as she straightened the tangled sheets. "Philly and I have never had the chance to actually do that." She gave my ass a squeeze as she passed behind me. "And you�re one of the few guys I wouldn�t mind sleeping with, too, Sam."

Everyone got two good-night kisses, too.

Copyright 2015 by Michael K. Smith. Copies may be made and posted elsewhere for personal enjoyment, but all commercial rights are reserved.