Secure behind the locked door of his room, Dean shed his clothing. As usual, his underwear was sticky with discharge from his cock, which had been partially erect most of the day and was hardening now in anticipation of relief. The teen fisted himself briefly until his tool was rigid and quivering.
Now was the time he most missed Zoe’s lips and tongue on his organ. Dean wondered again how much longer it would be before they lost their virginities to each other, and whether or not he could hold out until she decided to take the plunge. It was hard to wait, and harder to continue resisting Mariah’s advances, but Zoe had become more to him than just an incredibly hot girl and Dean didn’t want to screw that up.
Well, an incredibly hung up hot girl, he decided, glancing at his phone. He’d obliquely suggested phone sex once, but apparently the scars from her friend’s experiences went deep and Zoe had refused outright to have anything to do with it. Luckily blowjobs weren’t on the forbidden list, and he could look all he wanted. And being the yearbook/newsletter photographer meant he was one of the very few people, and only student, with a working camera on campus.
Conveniently, he could take a lot more pictures than many people realized. Dean tossed a towel on his desk chair and sat down in front of his computer, entering a password for his screensaver and then another to unlock the encrypted volume his parents didn’t know existed. He pulled up his favorite pictures, including the ones he’d taken of Mariah before her interview, and a recent one of Zoe leaving the pool after swim class.
Leaning back, the horny teen cupped his swollen balls and then slicked his meat with precum until it was glistening. Dean started stroking himself, considering who had the best tits, until he erupted onto his chest. There was something funky about the smell that turned him on and made him even harder, and he followed his usual practice of spreading it over his groin until his cock, balls, and ass were completely coated.
Typing slowly with just his left hand, Dean started a video he’d found on the Internet. It was untitled and he’d never located the source, but it showed a girl, wearing a skimpy white bikini, pulling herself out of a pool; she bore a casual resemblance to Zoe. The girl looked about, apparently seeing nobody, and her expression changed. The crotch of the swimsuit took on a distinctly yellow cast as more liquid began running down her legs, then she massaged herself through the suit as pee gushed to the deck.
Dean began fondling his sack and probing his asshole as the girl turned to look around again, stopping with her back to the camera. She squatted slightly and the back of the bikini bottoms began to bulge obscenely. Finally the growth stopped and the girl delicately ran a hand over her butt, tracing the contours of her deposit, before proceeding to knead it and press the suit into her crack until the white fabric was stained dirty brown and chunks of shit fell to the ground.
She had stopped to sniff her hand and look speculatively at the pool when she was interrupted by a man’s voice, shouting, “don’t you get my pool dirty, you filthy girl!” He strode into the picture, wearing white coveralls and carrying a pool brush which he dropped before grabbing her by the arm. A second man, similarly dressed, joined him.
“I knew it weren’t no dog,” the newcomer said to his partner.
“Just a bitch who needs to be taken care of,” agreed the first man. He pulled the ties on the bikini and stripped it from the girl, leaving her naked, before pushing her to the ground. She lay there, staring at the men, as they stripped off their coveralls; improbably, they wore no other clothing.
“Let’s clean this slut up,” one of the men said, and they both began peeing on the girl. She started fingering herself urgently as urine rained down on her. Soon one of them was pissing into her opened mouth while the other directed his flow onto her ass. Dean started spurting again, his cock trembling as it contracted and squeezed out a diminished load of semen.
It would have seemed unusual to him a few months before, but Dean wasn’t afraid to experiment and had grown accustomed to the changing needs of his body. After two relatively fast cums, his cock was harder than ever and he was craving the release of what he privately thought of as his “special orgasm.” The teen collected the scum clinging to the head of his rod and tasted it, then began exploring his asshole more deeply and rubbing just the head of his tool while watching the computer screen.
The two men were erect now, considering the girl, who was massaging her breasts and eyeing their cocks. “I think she still needs to be cleaned out,” one commented; he picked up a bottle of lotion from a poolside table and squeezed a healthy portion into one hand before running it greasily up and down his shaft. The girl scrambled sideways to kneel on the grass beside the deck, and a moment later the man was working himself into her ass.
From this camera angle, it was much easier for Dean to ignore the girl’s too-large breasts and dark roots, and imagine that it was Zoe and he was fucking her. It felt like his balls were going to explode, but Rich kept stroking two fingers into his back door while he mauled his glans and continued watching.
The second man began fucking the girl’s face. The trio jerked and grunted as they worked themselves towards climaxes. Tanned bodies strained and the girl fell forward, crying out in ecstasy, as both men bottomed out and spewed creamy loads into her. Dean was almost there…
The threesome pulled apart, with the camera zooming to capture the sperm leaking from the girl’s mouth and gaping ass. Wordlessly, the girl turned and began to lick her shit from the cock that had just been deep inside her.
Dean gasped, hit simultaneously by a searing pain that made it feel like his cock was going to tear off and a release that made him shake so violently he bit his tongue and his contracting anus threatened to amputate his fingers. Cum began spilling from his organ, but unlike his earlier orgasms, it was a continuous flow of faintly pinkish clear slime; this time it continued for nearly ten seconds — his longest yet.
Ignoring the video, Dean spread the slime across his body and massaged it into his skin until he glistened. His cock was still hard, but the driving need was gone. From past experience, the teen expected he’d gradually lose the erection over the next several hours. Just in case, and because it wasn’t worth risking permanent damage from priapism, he retrieved one of the suppositories Shefali had given him and pushed it deeply into his ass. It left a faint warmth as it began dissolving inside him.
Dean looked at himself in the mirror. Probably it was just the erection and the afterglow from his climax, but he could swear his penis and balls were larger than they had been a few months ago. It wasn’t quite the sort of thing a guy was comfortable with asking his girlfriend about; especially if she was a bit strait-laced.
The teen wished again he could share this incredible experience with Zoe, but oral stimulation alone didn’t seem to be enough to trigger it. Someday — hopefully soon — she’d be willing to go all the way with him, and he’d know what her sweet pussy felt like on his cock; or maybe, even her ass. He’d hadn’t even seen her naked! Not really, anyway… A swimsuit, lots of times, and that picture on the fabrication workstation, but not in the flesh. Did she shave herself down there? Was she a screamer? What if she could just act like a slut, for once? Dean felt the need stir inside him.
Zoe slammed the empty glass on the table and glared at Dean. “Are you even listening to me?” They were at Spots again, as usual.
“Yes, honestly,” he sighed, “although you are rather distracting.”
She warmed inside, although familiarity kept her skin from flushing now. She looked hot, and Zoe knew it.
By unspoken collective agreement, those who knew about the custom fabrication sales held this information closely. Simple observation revealed to everybody who was “in” and who wasn’t. In this hierarchy, Zoe ranked high, the first person after Mariah to wear her own “designer” clothing, and consistently one of the most polished and stylish, thanks to the collective “skunkworks” operated by herself, Paige, and Claudia.
Tonight, the blonde wore a fire-engine red “little black dress” that fit her like a second skin. The material was a little stretchy and fit so closely she didn’t need a bra, and a thong with elaborately patterned hose avoided any panty lines. She had no trouble now walking — or dancing — in the matching red 3-inch heels Dean insisted on calling “fuck-me pumps” even though they were in fact sandals. They’d cost Zoe far more than the rest of her outfit combined.
Of course, Zoe reflected, her parents would have had collective heart attacks had they seen her dressed like this. Like many of the other students, however, she finessed the problem by stopping at the school to change outfits before walking across the campus to Spots. She had the additional advantage of being able to stash clothing at Claudia’s house.
She and Dean had given up going other places. It was just easier here, where you didn’t worry about who might see you or who you might run into, and where people didn’t hassle you if you wanted to express yourself.
Zoe looked at Dean and smiled despite her intention to be angry with him. The sport jacket looked good on him, and she loved the way the slacks highlighted the long bulge in his crotch, as well as the extra-length zipper that made it so much easier to access…
“I’m just fed up with hunting Principal Edwards,” she sighed, recapping her frustration. “Nobody else really knows anything, and he’s so elusive!”
Dean knocked back a long draught of his iced tea and sought to reassure her. “Zoe, you are the best damned researcher and investigator I’ve seen.” With a smirk, he added, “and I mean that both visually and professionally. I’m confident you will succeed in cornering our beloved leader.”
“Yeah, but where?” she griped, trying not to let it turn into a whine. “The only places you ever see him are here and at school. Either way, he disappears in his office and nobody can get at him.”
“Well, look,” Dean offered. “I can follow him, and see where he goes. He must live somewhere; if you go to his house, he’ll have to come out and talk to you sometime. Right?”
Zoe nodded in glum agreement. It didn’t really sound like such a bad plan, except it meant they’d have to split up — the principal had an unpredictable schedule, and Spots closed after her parents expected her to be home. It wasn’t like she wouldn’t see him the next day, but she hated to miss the necking and blowjob that usually ended their outings.
“Is Claudia here tonight?” It was a rhetorical question, and they both started scanning the room, looking for the abrasive senior.
With the familiarity of regulars, they unconsciously filtered out most of what they saw, not letting the common landscape distract their search. A couple engaged in heavy petting in the far corner, the girl half undressed — but her hair wasn’t Claudia’s color, move on. Guys swapping stories about the latest movie they’d seen, move on. Mariah, surrounded by rapt onlookers, doing a solo platform dance and openly masturbating herself while staring directly at Zoe and Dean… Zoe still found that unsettling, but moved on. More guys, doing a drinking contest, which seemed kind of pointless (but apparently popular) in a joint where the strongest drink was vitamin water, move on. Random dancers, move on. Kevin, dancing with Jana, who had her hand down his pants while he glared over her shoulder, move on but what was he looking at?
Surprisingly, Zoe saw he was watching Joanne and Claudia dancing together. That explained Kevin’s frown, although it was a weird pairing. The two girls weren’t exactly dancing together so much as dancing at each other. As Zoe watched, she realized the two were mirroring each other, first one and then the other taking the lead in increasingly racy moves.
Zoe waved at Claudia several times, finally catching her friend’s attention just as Joanne led off a hip roll combined with a slap of her own butt. Claudia proceeded to mimic the hip roll, but slapped Joanne’s butt again instead of her own.
Joanne exploded in indignation, but was quickly silenced by Claudia who grabbed her by the neck and pulled her close for a rough kiss. Claudia said something to her and pushed Joanne, who now looked merely flustered, in the general direction of Kevin and Jana. Jana pulled her hand from Kevin’s pants as if she’d found a live coal.
“Interesting,” commented Dean, who’d also observed all of the interplay, as Claudia made her way over to them. The senior was wearing a long slinky draped top, which originally had been intended to be worn over a tank and a bottom. Claudia had gotten Paige to lengthen the design slightly, and dispensed with both of the other garments. She still wore her old boots, claiming they were just too comfortable to give up.
“Barbie, Ken, how’re things?” Claudia greeted them. She snatched and drained Dean’s glass without asking.
“Hey, Claudia,” Zoe said. “I was wondering if you could give me a ride home. Dean needs to stay and I don’t want to miss my curfew.”
“You’re fucking with me, right?” Claudia rolled her eyes. “You’re giving up this” — Dean jumped as she grabbed his package — “for a fucking curfew?” She looked at the clock on the wall and sighed. “God help you, you are so fucking innocent. Come on, let’s go.”
Zoe kissed Dean goodnight — passionately, with serious tongue — and the girls started cross campus to pick up Zoe’s clothes.
“You look fucking hot, Barbie,” Claudia complemented her as they walked. “I’m glad to see my fashion sense is rubbing off on you. I hope you’ve sealed the deal with that boy.”
“My parents didn’t raise me to be that kind of girl,” Zoe said, chin stubbornly raised.
“Jesus H. Fucking Christ!” exploded Claudia, stopping in amazement. “You haven’t fucked him yet?! What the fuck are you waiting for, Zoe? You know Mariah’s probably back there right now, making a fucking wet spot on his leg, right? I don’t think ‘wait’ is in her fucking vocabulary.”
Zoe looked like she might cry as Claudia’s surmise hit her secret fears head-on. “It’s just not who I am. I am not some slut. Besides, if all Dean thinks about is getting laid, then maybe he’s not the boy for me.”
Claudia forbore to press the obviously upset blonde any further, and the rest of the trip home alternated between silences and inane conversation.
Zoe entered her home before the appointed time, modestly clad in jeans and knit top. She demurely kissed her parents good night and retreated to her bedroom.
Once the door was safely closed behind her, the teen shed her clothing and scrutinized herself again in the mirror. She was beautiful, as beautiful as Mariah, she told herself. “Dean thinks I’m hot,” Zoe whispered. Hot enough to wait for? She opened her sock drawer and unearthed her dildo.
Sinking naked on her bed, Zoe imagined Dean the way she’d seen him that night. She imagined unzipping him, caressing his throbbing rod until it trembled. Instead of kneeling before him, she’d lie back, spreading to reveal her wetness to him. He’d lower himself on her, easing his burning cock into her needy pussy the same way she inserted the dildo now, until he filled her up. Then he’d start sawing in and out, slowly at first and then faster, rubbing against her pleasure bud, until it became hard for her to breathe. He’d cup her breasts and tease her nipples just the way she liked, and then fill her up and twist the nipple almost painfully, just like she was doing now, until she arched off the bed and orgasmed.
She brought herself off twice, but the dildo never spasmed inside her like the fantasy Dean, and it never rewarded her with the creamy spunk, tasting of him, Zoe loved so well. That night, she dreamed Mariah stood before her, Dean’s cum leaking from her cunt, and laughingly invited Zoe to join her.
Zoe was still unsettled the next morning, not helped by being unable to connect with Dean before first period. Now she worried about the previous evening, wondering if Dean had been able to trail Mr. Edwards, and what — if anything — Mariah might have done, and when she could be alone with Dean. She had Paige, chattering beside her, more than half tuned out.
It was funny, really. Zoe had never met anybody as cold-bloodedly Machiavellian, in a harmless way, as the younger Ward sister. Paige over-obsessed and over-analyzed everything. It amazed Zoe how much time Paige could spend examining and blocking a pattern, remorselessly estimating and fine-tuning it.
Paige and Zoe were walking together now because the general P.E. classes had rotated to the pool for the remainder of the quarter, joining those in the original swimming class. Zoe had been pleased to discover both of them had elected to continue with swimming after the holiday break, but as usual Paige had gone overboard. Zoe liked the exercise and the warm water. Paige, after careful consideration, had explained, “swimming provides a more consistent level of physical fitness and whole-body toning. It’s healthier, and makes you more attractive.”
At the moment, Paige was beginning to elaborate her plan for a personal relationship that “Joanne won’t screw up this time.” Zoe sighed; she’d heard about the tangle with Kevin many times now and it was hard for her to pin the blame on Joanne. Paige just seemed laughably inept dealing with romance, although she never stopped considering in advance how to head off all possible perils. Where was Dean, anyway? Zoe thought as her mind returned to its familiar rut.
Squeals and laughter from the showers derailed Zoe’s mental rambling and Paige’s monologue. Against her better judgment, Zoe followed Paige’s nod and they detoured to peer around the corner from the locker room; at this time of day, it would be the senior girls finishing up first period.
Sure enough, a bunch of the older girls were clustered together under the communal spray, naked and slippery. As usual, there was a lot more groping and fondling going on than was needed for rinsing off chlorine.
“Go on!” somebody urged, and the bodies shifted, revealing Mariah in the center of a circle of girls. A few of them supported Mariah from behind, and Zoe recognized Jana and Joanne crouched in front, examining Mariah’s bald pussy.
“Like, do it, Jana!” Joanne encouraged her friend. Do what, lick her? Zoe wondered, remembering her dream. She hadn’t realized Mariah was completely shaved, although it wasn’t too much of a surprise considering her wardrobe choices. Would that look appeal to Dean?
Jana, arguably the slightest build of the girls there, formed a fist and slowly began pushing her hand into Mariah’s cunt. Amazingly, it disappeared entirely! Mariah smiled angelically at her rapt audience. Jana, giggling now, began pumping her forearm in and out while Joanne leaned in to examine matters more closely.
Mariah’s smile widened and she started peeing. Jana squawked as the warm torrent splashed down her arm. Her hand, momentarily trapped inside Mariah, made it impossible to escape. Joanne shrieked and turned aside as yellow droplets spattered her face and breasts.
The other girls laughed, a bit unkindly Zoe thought, as Jana finally freed her hand and fell backwards on her butt. Mariah steered her golden stream back onto the student council president’s body.
Zoe’s attention was on Joanne, who started laughing as she licked her fingers and watched Jana. “You guys! This is, like, so nasty!” she exclaimed breathlessly. Incredulously, Zoe watched as Joanne extended her tongue and leaned towards Mariah’s spray —
“Gross!” Paige vented with unusual emotion, tugging Zoe back from the corner before stomping along to the lockers. Their favorite spot in the corner was free; the short row offered a little more privacy.
“Don’t you think that was a bit unusual?” Zoe asked, as the pair of them shrugged off their uniform jackets.
“No,” Paige replied, “Joanne’s always been hyper.” She continued undressing, apparently oblivious to the other aspects of the scene they’d witnessed. When she removed her bra, Zoe saw Paige sported a pair of nipple clamps joined by a fine chain!
“Paige! What in the world are those?” It was an effort for Zoe to remember to keep her voice down.
The other girl looked at her but responded with a non sequitur instead: “Zoe! Have you been thinking about Dean again?”
Zoe looked down at herself; her powder blue underwear showed an obvious wet spot. Embarrassed, she pushed the boyshorts to the floor and admitted, “Some, yes.” There was nobody, possibly including herself, to whom she would admit that some of the dampness was due to Mariah, too. It was impossible not to give herself a quick stroke or two, but there was no way she was going to jill off in front of Paige or anybody else. She scooped the underwear from the floor, tossed it in the locker, and picked up her swimsuit.
“Well?” Paige prompted. “Spill! Have you talked to him yet?” She hissed in pain as she removed the clamps from her swollen nipples.
“Of course we talk! Every day! We really like being with each other.” Zoe wriggled slowly into her suit; her body had a bit more tone in it than when she’d started the school year.
“It is so pathetic that I, of all people, have to be the one to tell you this,” Paige began. She started pulling on her own suit. “You need to tell Dean how you feel about him, Zoe. That you love him, if you do. Think about your situation rationally. Dean is yours to lose, but everybody at this school knows Mariah is gunning for him and you know she won’t hesitate a second.”
“I do love him,” Zoe confided, and tried to organize her thoughts. “It’s just hard for me to talk about. I don’t want to make a rash decision like Amber did and regret it” — Paige nodded — “so I keep holding off, hoping I’ll recognize the right moment when it comes.” She shrugged helplessly. “It hasn’t come yet.”
“Maybe I can help with that,” Mariah’s sultry voice crooned in Zoe’s ear. A wet arm wrapped around her to cup her breast as Zoe felt the other girl’s wet skin press against the length of her body from behind. “I hate it when things haven’t cum yet,” she whispered suggestively, tonguing the blonde’s ear.
Zoe whirled to disengage herself from the unwanted embrace and stepped back to face Mariah, who stood dripping and naked alongside the open locker.
“Poor needy Zoe.” Mariah’s innocent features showed a sorrow Zoe knew couldn’t be genuine. “She hasn’t cum; her little nip-nips are so hard.” The redhead’s roving eye inspected the locker, and she removed the blue underwear, dangling it in front of her by a fingertip and inspecting the crotch. Zoe blushed in silent humiliation.
“Why, Zoe, you are needy, aren’t you? Poor little creamy puss, just dripping for attention.” She laughed, lightly. “What is your juicy little snatch craving? What do you feed it? Does it want fingers, or tongues, or vibrators? Maybe it wants cocks.” Mariah pursed her lips and crumpled Zoe’s underwear into her fist.
“No, it couldn’t be cocks, could it? I’m sure little puss-puss hasn’t seen a cock. It wouldn’t know what it’s missing. A hard, hot shaft like Dean has, for example.” Mariah gauged the effect of her commentary by the expression on Zoe’s face and continued. “It wouldn’t know that pussies are made for cocks like that, made to be filled up by cocks like that. Maybe you cream yourself thinking of last night, thinking of what might have happened if you hadn’t left.”
Mariah’s hand lowered and she began to stroke herself delicately. “You might have stayed awhile longer and seen poor Dean’s cock trapped with nowhere to go. You could have released it, and marveled at the way you could make it twitch and grow with a caress. You could have put your little creamy cream to good use, making yourself inviting for him, letting him slide — ever — so — slowly — into you.” Mariah began pushing the balled-up panties into herself, but Zoe didn’t notice, her stricken eyes locked on Mariah’s.
“Your little cunny wouldn’t have to imagine the feeling of being spread, of being impaled on a rigid pole jackhammering into you.” Mariah fingered herself more urgently as she got into it. “You’d know the sensations you get when he tenses up and unloads into you and that hot spunk sprays your insides.” She trembled in orgasmic delight and calmed again.
“And you’d know the tingly feeling,” Mariah concluded, slowly withdrawing Zoe’s panties from herself, “when it’s not just your girlie-cum dripping out of you, but Dean’s too.”
“One of us will have to keep imagining, I guess. Oh well.” With that parting jibe, Mariah turned her back on the frozen pair and sauntered away.
Zoe sank abruptly to the bench. “Oh God, did she say –?”
“Technically, not exactly,” Paige began, but realized belatedly it wasn’t what Zoe needed to hear. “No! Hell, no! C’mon Zoe, you know Dean. He wouldn’t do that to you, right?”
“Right. He loves me!” Zoe tried to remain positive. “I think…” She choked back a sob.
Paige looked uneasily at the emotional blonde. “Hey, let’s go, Zoe, okay? We’re late for class.”
“You go,” Zoe shook her head. “I’m just going to sit here for awhile; I’m not up facing anybody right now.”
“Sure?”
Zoe waved her away. “I’m sure. Thanks for being a friend.” She sat, empty inside, as Paige’s footsteps faded into the now-quiet locker room.
The quiet reflection gave way to muted anger. Paige was right; Dean wouldn’t have done that to her, and the sneaky way Mariah implied it without having actually said so fairly screamed “duplicity” once she had a chance to step back from her emotions and consider it.
What had she done to deserve any of this? Why was Mariah always so mean to her? Zoe didn’t even really sense that the other girl hated her. The decision jelled in an instant. She was an investigator — and if she wanted an answer to something, she asked. Besides, she was tired of always being off-balance and on the defensive every time she encountered Mariah.
Without giving herself time to think and talk herself out of it, Zoe trailed the wet footprints across the locker room. As if they were needed, she thought wryly; naturally Mariah was using the most-exposed location in the room, at the end of the center row.
The senior, who was applying lotion to her legs while still in the buff, looked up at the sound of Zoe’s approach. “Zoe, nice to see you again so soon.”
“Mariah, why are you doing these things? Why did you say those things about Dean? What do you want from me?” Why do I feel intimidated, when I’m the girl in clothing, and you’re not?
Mariah smiled at her. This one was genuine and Zoe felt an unwanted flutter. “Zoe, I do things because I enjoy them. And you might do better to ask, ‘what do you want?'”
“What do I want? My underwear, for one,” the blonde snapped, catching sight of her boyshorts hanging on the door of Mariah’s locker.
The older girl snagged them and brought them to her face with a sigh of appreciation. “Mmmm, delicious,” she purred after inhaling deeply. “Although the original scent is a little muddled now, I suppose.” She held out the underwear, unmoving, until Zoe stepped close enough to take them; they felt completely sodden.
“But what I really want,” Zoe emphasized, “is an answer to my question. Why?”
Mariah laughed, “such a big question in such a little word! I told them you were never going to let go!”
Zoe fought for her best poker face, while her mind raced. Who was the “them” Mariah mentioned? It didn’t make sense that it was any of her classmates; could she mean Principal Edwards? If so, who else? She determined to keep the conversation going, whatever it took.
“But look, Zoe,” continued Mariah, “I’m serious now. What do you want? What do you really want from life?”
It wasn’t the place, or the audience, Zoe wanted for a conversation like this. But she sensed she couldn’t fob a bullshit answer off on Mariah and keep her engaged. “Self-respect,” she offered, thoughtfully. It was the thing she felt she’d lost last year, with Amber, and still wasn’t confident she’d regained.
“Good,” agreed Mariah, “but what do you do with it? Can you respect a person who wants nothing, does nothing?”
“I want to be a journalist, to be intelligent and use it for something. To have a boyfriend, and spend time with him,” Zoe added with a pointed look.
“I want to live,” Mariah rejoined, first cupping her breasts and then stretching her arms wide and inhaling deeply. “You should want that too, Zoe. Google can regurgitate facts; the rest of us are the sum of our experiences. And I highly doubt,” she added with arched eyebrow, “that you want to spend time with Dean solely for the purpose of contemplating the intellectual perfection of mathematical proofs.”
It was a surprisingly good dissertation that forced Zoe to study the redhead with increased respect. “Okay, I’ll grant you that. But living life is not the same thing as being a slut!”
“Oh, slut is, like, such an overused word,” Mariah waved off the objection with a parody of Joanne so spot-on that Zoe couldn’t help but laugh. Mariah stepped closer, but not enough Zoe felt threatened. “Slut, whore, skank, whatever — I’ve heard them all. They’re little words used by little people who made different choices and are jealous because they didn’t get what we have.”
“Don’t waste yourself, Zoe!” Mariah urged. “You’re beautiful! Look at your body; it was made for living.” She began caressing herself. “Why would your nipples stand up like this and be so sensitive, if not to be touched and teased? Why bother to make us get so wet here, if not to welcome a man into us? Why give us a clit that serves no purpose other than pleasure? Humans are the only animals that fuck without desire for pregnancy.”
“Your mind knows all this, if you forget your preconceptions. Did you feel self-respect when you thought I hooked up with Dean, or were you regretting you didn’t fuck him yourself and mad that I might be getting what you let go by?” Mariah’s voice quieted. “Did you regret blowing Dean in the parking lot outside Spots?”
Zoe let out a startled gasp. “Eyes are watching,” Mariah quipped. “If self-respect means being willing to do the same thing again, I bet you respected yourself a lot since then.”
Mariah’s voice grew even softer. “Your body wants you to enjoy these things, Zoe. You didn’t wet yourself this morning because you enjoy world geography; I think it was because you were thinking about Dean and how it feels to be with him. I don’t think your nipples have been standing up in here because of the cold breeze; I think it’s because your body wants to be touched, even when you were upset and angry.”
“In fact, I think your lips are just as sensitive as mine, and your tummy will feel the same tingle mine does when they’re kissed…” Zoe closed her eyes as Mariah leaned in the tiny remaining distance and their lips brushed.
Mariah’s lips were softer and fuller than Dean’s, but just as exciting. Mariah pulled her closer and their tongues met and probed each other. Zoe moaned softly at the promised tightening and need inside her, and marveled at the feel of breasts and nipples pressed against hers. She ran her hands through Mariah’s damp hair as Mariah’s thigh ground against her suddenly soaking pubic mound.
A rising crescendo of intermingled conversations and footsteps signaled the impending end of the period. Zoe reflexively pushed Mariah away, feeling very hot, bothered and bewildered. “I can’t, Mariah,” she gasped breathlessly. “Self respect. I just can’t do this to Dean.”
The senior’s questioning look disappeared, replaced by the angel-gone-bad expression Zoe knew so well. “I respect that, Zoe, really. For what it’s worth, Dean said almost the same thing last night — and that’s after I got him to cream his pants! But I’m warning you, girl: you’re just way too sweet to resist, and I always get my woman. Or man.”
Zoe nearly floated back to her locker. Dean was still hers! Remembering the underwear still clutched in her hand, she held it to her nose and inhaled; the aroma was almost hers, but not quite. She couldn’t resist a lick, but the fabric wasn’t quite damp enough to get any taste.
Paige was already partially dressed, fiddling with her nipple clamps. “Hey, Zoe. Are you feeling better? I told Coach Gold you had ‘feminine issues’.”
“Much better; thanks for covering for me.” Zoe skimmed off her suit, but hesitated. Instead of donning the abused shorts, she pushed them inside her glistening folds the way she’d watched Mariah do it. She’d find a way to share them with Dean, later, and she couldn’t wait to discuss the subtleties — edited, of course — of her conversation with Mariah. After that? Zoe still wasn’t ready to go all the way — with anybody — but maybe it was worth remembering that oral could go both ways.
Zoe finished fastening her bra and glanced up to see Paige looking at her quizzically. “Paige, tell me again. What’s the deal with those clamps?”
DecemberHank admitted Judy Haskell to the back office at Spots, and relocked the door behind her. She quietly crossed the floor to stand beside Paul Edwards, who was gazing at the wall.