Chapter One

 

Sarah came home from her date vaguely dissatisfied. Somewhere beneath the pit of her belly pulsed a primal hunger she could not quite name aloud yet nevertheless could not ignore.

Doug had seemed like a nice enough guy when she first chatted with him in class a couple of months ago. They had talked a little now and then before the history class they had together, and by the end of the semester when he finally asked, she had agreed to go out with him. They set the date for after finals week.

Tonight, however, had been a terrible letdown. They went out dancing, and though her body had thrilled instinctively to the feel of his arms about her and the comfortable pressure of his firm male chest against her big breasts, he was no Mr. Right. His small talk was shallower than she remembered, and after he had sucked down a couple of beers in the smoky darkness, he got downright tiresome. His voice grew ever so slightly slurred, and on a slow dance his hands slid down her waist and her hips, reaching farther, toward the supple flesh of the buttocks beneath her skirt-until, frowning, she had squirmed away and headed back to the table. Even finishing their chips and salsa together was a chore.

Sarah was no prude, but being groped by a sloshed frat-boy was an immediate turn-off. College was a meat market to many, it seemed, and Sarah had discovered long ago that it was hard to find someone likeable. Fortunately, she wasn't one of those insecure girls who brooded about the ticking clock and thus looked purposefully for a mate, hoping at each date that some storybook romance would begin. It might not hurt, she had to admit to herself, to stumble upon some compatible person one of these years. Yet it would be nice, too, at least, not to end up going out with a jerk, which she regarded as something of an emotional net loss.

Standing before the door of her apartment, Sarah wondered if her sly, often smirkingly superior roommate, Nikki, was watching through the peephole. Sometimes she did, and when Sarah came in, then Nikki-who was one year older than Sarah, yet infinitely more cynical and world-weary-would not hesitate to pronounce judgment upon her younger roommate's date. The dark-haired, somewhat enigmatic girl was quite perceptive, and usually she was right. On occasion, though, the sultry brunette could get quite sarcastic about it, even cutting. Sarah sighed. She didn't relish tonight's I-told-you-so.

Doug bent to kiss her goodnight, and, wincing, Sarah turned so that his sloppy lips landed on her cheek. He drew back for another try, but she wriggled out of his grasp.

"Thanks," she muttered. "Goodnight." Wiping her cheek, she pulled out her keys and turned immediately to the lock.

"See you later," her date said, pronouncing his words with the exaggerated care of inebriation. Swaying, he gave a jaunty salute.

"Goodnight," she repeated glumly, and slipped inside-and bumped into Nikki, suddenly resilient breast to breast.

One dark eyebrow arched, the other girl stepped lightly aside so that Sarah could slip in. "Was I right?" she wondered smugly.

Sarah snorted. "A jerk," she agreed.

"Well," Nikki shrugged, sable hair bouncing about her shoulders, "I hoped I was wrong."

Sarah blinked. Why, what a strange thing for that girl to say! The slender brunette could be so critical, after all, of the men Sarah dated. Was the girl perhaps softening in her outlook?

"I suppose I wouldn't have minded," continued Nikki mischievously, "if you had hit it off and been able to put on a nice little show for me..." She angled her head toward the peephole.

"You're terrible!" Sarah laughed.

"Hey, I'm not saying you should be moaning on the floor with your skirt up around your waist," Nikki shrugged. She considered it slyly, her long-lashed eyes half-lidded. "Come to think of it, I guess I wouldn't be able to see that too well from the peephole anyway-"

"Nikki!" Sarah gasped. Despite herself, though, she squirmed pleasantly inside. The idea-ridiculous and yet impossibly naughty-was exciting enough in itself. Such exhibitionistic fantasies were no strangers to Sarah, though certainly she never had discussed them with Nikki.

The thought of lying there in the hallway, exposed and unashamed, her naked thighs splayed as some handsome male specimen possessed and pleasured her joyous flesh was secretly thrilling to the seemingly reserved blonde, after all. How she would writhe, clutching the rippling mounds of her own bosom as his turgid flesh filled the wet grasping pink of her plump-lipped pussy! On and on she would gasp, happily, until his face convulsed in joy and his back arched and, as she watched him through slitted eyes, the striving male beast at last filled the indulgent spongy pit of her calmly receptive womb with spurt after spurt of the fluids of his helpless lusts. Ah, the dirty forthrightness of the repeated penetration, thick and juicy and squelching!

Yet the thought that someone else might spy upon her in her sweaty copulation-especially her wicked roommate-was perhaps just as titillating, and the fact Nikki would speak the notion aloud now gave it an even more sweetly forbidden thrill. What would it be like, she wondered, to be gazed at as one lay in the throes of passion, helpless and beautiful with joy? Would it make her want to play with her nipples more urgently, both for her own dirty pleasures and, perhaps, for the pleasure of the viewer? And, her mind continued on naughtily, would such shameless behavior make the watcher want to play with herself as well?

Yes, many, many were the pleasantly perverse notions to which the secretly sensual blonde had masturbated over the years, guilty and yet helpless to resist the needs of her poor easily excitable flesh, but she had always believed that most other girls did not do that dirty thing nearly as much as she herself did. Oh, everyone must do it sometimes, Sarah told herself. Occasionally she shivered with the joy of that peculiarly arousing knowledge, perhaps biting her lip as she imagined what this female friend or some attractive saleslady at the mall or a certain pretty girl on the street must look like when she pleasured herself in private. Now and then the poor imaginative blonde spent a lot of time imagining it, really. Sarah was pretty sure, though, that few others had gotten into the habit quite as desperately as she had. And the thought that somehow her own behavior would make some good-girl go bad, luring the innocent thing into masturbating herself into a beautifully gasping frenzy- Oh, that was a wondrous, forbidden thought!

Sarah shivered. "You're terrible," she repeated a little uneasily.

"No," Nikki assured her, "something soft-core and tasteful is all the innocent, voyeuristic thrill I ask. A goodnight kiss with a little tongue, and that dreamy look you put on-more for my viewing pleasure than the occasion warrants, I suspect-"

Flushing quickly, Sarah opened her mouth to protest.

"Don't think I mind," Nikki hastened on imperturbably. "Nature always benefits from a dash of art. Why, otherwise you wouldn't wear makeup. Or," she added with a roguish wag of her eyebrows as she flipped the backs of her elegant white fingers in a playful gesture toward Sarah's prominent bust, "a bra."

Sarah blinked a little self-consciously. "Sorry to disappoint you tonight," she said at last, wryly. She toed off her high heels and kicked them disgustedly into the maze of the remaining unopened boxes still cluttering the closet. Such pretty shoes, she thought, wasted on a night like that! Still the thought of the exquisite exhibitionism her roommate had joked about made her quiver strangely inside.

Yesterday Sarah and Nikki had moved out of the dorm for the summer and into an off-campus apartment. Sarah had come to enjoy the older girl's company greatly in her first two years at college-the experienced brunette was hard to read sometimes, yet she was simply such a sly-eyed, amusingly sardonic joy to have around, too. Rather than moving back to their respective homes in June, they had decided to stay near campus. Sarah originally had planned on returning to her parents' house over the summer, as she had between her freshman and sophomore years, but finally Nikki had convinced her to stay in the city. This way they would not save as much money for the next year of school-but the freedom and experience of being on their own in a college town, both girls decided, would be worth the trade-off. Even Sarah's parents at last had agreed.

Laboriously the two had stripped their old dorm room and loaded Sarah's car with all of their possessions-their laptops, Nikki's well-worn printer that clacked and whirred, Sarah's easy chair, the second-hand TV they had purchased together last year, suitcases stuffed with clothes, crates of CDs, posters, lamps, throw rugs, knickknacks. They had spent a long, sweaty day moving everything into their new place, arranging it just right and dividing up dressers and closets. They still had a little unpacking and rearranging to do, but finally the girls had decided that they had done enough for one day. Such a change of surroundings was sure to make Sarah feel unsettled, restless and hungry inside.

Feeling jittery, Sarah let out her breath and headed into the living room. The apartment had only one bedroom, but the living room was spacious and comfortable, and their kitchen was larger than what most students had. "That was an evening I could have done without," Sarah sighed. She shook her head as Nikki dropped her slender, long-hipped and shapely body onto the couch beside her. "The place was crowded, and it was so smoky. Ugh, I hate that."

The dark-eyed Nikki leaned close to Sarah's blonde waves and whiffed. "Yeah," she agreed in distaste, "you still smell like an ashtray."

"Aw, really?" Sarah said disgustedly. "My nose must be dulled." She flexed her nostrils. "No, I guess I can smell it, too. I'm gonna change." She rose and headed into the bathroom, closed the door behind her.

Sarah rinsed her face off in the sink and regarded herself in the mirror. She was fairly attractive, she knew. Framed by waves of flowing gold, her face was friendly and open-pretty green eyes, cute nose, and full lips. She was a little on the tall side, too, which was good, for her breasts were large, and she was full about the hips-very shapely, Nikki had assured her, though she herself was always rather conscious that either might be too heavy. She tried to be careful whom she went out with, because she had learned long ago that some guys were interested only in those big, bulging white boobies of hers. Tonight-well, tonight she apparently had judged wrong.

She unbuttoned her blouse slowly and let the silky garment, now reeking with others' cigarette smoke, slide off her softly rounded forearms to the floor. She wriggled out of her skirt, too. Clad in lacy panties and brassiere, she yawned suddenly. She watched herself as she stretched, watched the way the creamy flesh of her bosom rose full and softly overflowing. Beneath the flowered lace, she could not help but notice, the sensitive flesh of her nipples were puckered up hard and stiff. Furtively she glided her fingertips lightly over those agonized lace-covered peaks, sending pleasurable little tingles rippling straight down to the very center of her being, secret and musky and damp.

Caressingly she stripped herself still further. She slid her panties down off her swelling hips, down her sleek thighs and shapely calves, to the floor. Reaching behind her, she unfastened the hooks of her bra worked the straps off her shoulders. As she dropped the garment she cradled her heavy flesh absently in her cupping palms. The excitement of the move into their new apartment this morning had made her quietly restless, and the close dancing this evening had worked her up even more. Pressing her thighs together beneath her lower belly's delta of moist blonde curls, Sarah squeezed softly at the white flesh plopped upon her splayed hands, working her fingers down to the turgid pink-brown points at the front of her mammaries.

For a long moment she fondled herself idly, automatically, scarcely even realizing it at first as she held her nipples between thumbs and forefingers and rolled the crinkled nubbins to send a rosy glow through her entire frame. Soon, though, she began to pull at the tender things, stretching them-hard. Ah, that felt nice! Though it made her uncomfortable sometimes that the first thing any guy noticed about her was her breasts, Sarah had to admit, rather grudgingly, that she could not really blame them. Why, if she herself clutching those wobbling globes, squeezing them, pinching and pulling at the sensitive pink-brown bundles of fire that crowned them so alluringly, how could some simple male resist either?