Christian College Sex Comedy Ch. 23

"Hi there, Zane," Willa greeted me. I recalled that Belle would be working at the bar near UV campus tonight and tomorrow.

"Hey, Willa, Katt, and Janet," I grinned. "Willa, if I get out of this, can I have a moment of your time when I get back?"

"Sure," Willa seemed curious. "I would like to talk to you too." That was a bit odd but okay.

When I entered the Dixie Roadhouse it took me a moment for my eyes to adjust but I knew where Deacon's table was from my last visit. Deacon was there with two of his associates, all in similar states of disrepair.

My first thought was: What in the hell happened to them? The second was: Wow, they let someone in a half-body cast out of the hospital rather quickly these days. It looked like a herd of water buffalo had worked out the dance routine from that prison scene in the play Chicago -- he had it coming -- all over their bodies. None of his infirmities kept Deacon from glaring with horrible malevolence at me as I approached.

"Here is your five thousand dollars," I stated as I lay the envelope on the table. None of them made a move on the money and I began to worry. Then I took in the full effects of their injuries and I figured out that not one of the three could reach over and get it. I opted to push the money across the table to the closest cripple. One of the guys managed, with some pain, to pick up the envelope and count the money.

"It is all here," the guy mumbled to Deacon. I could see in Deacon's eyes that his hate for me was far from quenched but I didn't know why. It wasn't like I came back and kicked his ass...oh fuck, maybe I had.

"I'll be going, then," I said as I backed up four steps. "I hope you feel better next time we meet." With that, I rapidly evacuated myself from the building.

I found myself de-stressing next to Willa outside.

"So, who in the hell fucked up Deacon and his buddies that bad?" I inquired.

"Some people were hoping you could tell us," Willa prodded.

"It wasn't me if that is what you are worried about," I assured her. "Tell me what happened."

"From what little we've been told or been able to figure out, Deacon and his two senior officers stepped out to their rides around 11:30 last night when they got jumped," Willa related.

"Then it gets weird...weirder," Katt continued. "Their attackers dragged them thirty yards over to the electrical shed," she pointed. That way no one could see them from the bar.

"Then they proceeded to beat the ever-living hell out of them," Janet concluded, then took a swig of beer. I had to think about that for a moment.

"Didn't they see who did it?" I questioned.

"Blackbeard and Booth (who I assumed were the other two broken bikers) were knocked out before they saw anything and Deacon hasn't related what he saw -- his jaw is wired shut because it's been broken in four places," Willa tried and failed to hide her grin. I had to think about that for a second; Deacon's jaw looked like it was carved out of granite.

"Ladies (an affectation they found amusing), if Deacon and his two buddies had gotten into a fight outside the Roadhouse, wouldn't the rest of you come running...and wouldn't they have called out if they saw a gang of guys they didn't know coming toward them?" I ruminated.

"That makes sense," Katt confirmed, "but what does that mean?"

"One person," I muttered; "one really, really skilled person."

"No way," Janet shook her head.

"I can and have one-punched a person and I'm only so good," I countered. "I would have figured out which bike was Deacon's, picked the third one closer to the door to hide behind. After that, when he passed by me, I would come around the bike at a crouch-run and kick the closest target where the ear and jaw meet. If I do it right his brain beats around inside his skull a few times and it's lights out," I explained.

"It looks like you've given this some thought," Willa observed.

"No; the move is standard kick-boxing and the tactics are the usual for ambushing a dangerous animal. If you come at it head-on, you might still win but the price is much higher. Deacon and the other two talking in a place they felt safe was the 'distraction' for the ambush," I explained.

"Oh," Willa contemplated the scenario. I could see her eyes walk over the parking lot as she considered the events playing out.

"Of course, that still leaves you facing two opponents -- right around six feet and 220 to 240 who are adept at violence," I pointed out.

"If you could hit the second guy the same way fast enough and somehow render the last one incapable of speech..." Willa concluded. "You would have to be insanely fast and if someone was that good, what would they be doing at a biker bar in Lancaster, Virginia?"

"Don't you know? This is the destination of choice for all international assassins on the run?" I joked. "Willa, can I have that moment now?" She shrugged, grinned, and walked with me to my car. It was refreshing to be side-by-side with a woman not interested in jumping my bones. If she'd been a lesbian instead of what she was, it would have been perfect.

"You are too young for me, Zane," Willa headed me off.

"Cool," I answered, which was not what she expected. "I need to talk with you a bit but not here. I don't want to risk anyone else listening in." Now Willa appeared to be curious.

"Okay. The abandoned roadside motel on Chandler Road, 2:00 pm tomorrow," she responded.

"Thanks, Willa. And also, do you know where I can get some fake ID's?" I asked as I got into my car.

"I'll see what I can dig up," Willa smirked. She rejoined her buddies on the porch and was chatting away as I took off for home.

I knew that my ordeal for this evening was far from over. There still was the hurdle of finding a place for Paige to sleep and making sure she stayed in the room Jill and I agreed on. The struggle with Jill over Rio had been epic enough; I certainly didn't expect the sounds of women's laughter and modern music to be the first thing I heard when I stepped out of my ride.

Mind you, Jill thought Rio still had moral fiber. If I told Rio she had even a single moral fiber left she'd span Heaven and Earth hunting the mythical beast down a la King Pellinore. On the plus side, Aunt Jill knew nothing of Paige so I could play up that angle. I walked indoors to a chorus of 'hey' and 'Zane' coming from the kitchen.

I strode into a flurry of dinner-prep activity. Apparently we were attempting Italian sausage ravioli, broccoli & carrots, mashed potatoes, salad, and gazpacho. Okay, I was pretty sure Jill thought ravioli was the invention of Chef Boyardee and gazpacho was some town in the former Yugoslavia so I had to wonder what the fuck was going on.

As if life wasn't interesting enough, Leigh glided up, greeted me again while whipping up the mashed potatoes, and then kissed me in a way that could only be called familial if both our last names were Borgia. Oh, and she did it with Jill staring right at us.

"I'm thinking of stripping you down and tying you up," I whispered in her ear.

"I like the sound of that," she snarled playfully in return.

"Then I'm going to leave you for a bunch of blindfolded kindergarteners to play finger-paint with," I snickered.

"Ouch," she recoiled. "Wait, what does that make me, molester and molestee?"

"Before or after you get revenge on me?" I joked.

"Zane," Paige materialized at my side, "what are you two talking about?"

"Gak!" I squawked. "Woman, what are you, The Cat that Walks Through Walls?"

"Schrödinger's Cat," Paige gleefully corrected. Leigh's eyes were still bugged out from Paige's sudden appearance.

Leigh gingerly poked Paige with her right forefinger while holding the bowl cradled in her left arm.

"Are you real?" Leigh prodded my albino stealth-monkey.

"Are these real?" Paige countered, massaging Leigh's breasts vigorously. Thankfully for me, Leigh's body shielded that action from Jill's eyes.

"Enough, Paige -- Leigh. I've got to talk to Jill about Paige's sleeping arrangements and right now she is in a good mood," I instructed this micro-gathering of ladies.

"Oh, it's okay," Paige smirked. "Iona vouched for me so I'm sleeping with you guys." I clearly looked incredulous. I mean, it took me hours working on Jill to get things like that done last time and Jill has known me for years. Whoops; that might be the problem.

"Wow, your nipples are really getting hard," Paige giggled softly to Leigh. She had continued to caress Leigh's goodies while I'd been working things out mentally. Leigh could have backed up; she could have swatted Paige's hands away or at least worn a bra. "Zane, does the 'no sex' rule apply to the whole weekend or only to the house?"

"Mmmm...a no sex rule?" Leigh licked her lips.

"Yes. Zane has forsworn sex for himself all weekend long," Paige whispered...while still teasing Leigh's nipples. "Iona and I plan to sleep cuddled next to him totally naked. We even have a little something extra planned for tonight."

"Why don't you tell me all about it? Zane, take the bowl," Leigh shoved the bowl and mixing spoon into my stomach. Paige and Leigh quickly slipped out of the room and disappeared from sight and sound. For some perverse reason I thought that if you slept with one girl, then slept with another one who had possessiveness issues, there would be a disagreement -- silly me.

Dinner was odd yet enjoyable with the six ladies and me. We ate, talked, even laughed a bit. The Kappa Sigmas and us FFU's exchanged anecdotes of our not so radically different campus lives. Girls ran in clumps (cliques, posses, BFFs, what have you), teachers still came in three flavors -- wonderful, indifferent, and outright wretched, and they liked to talk about the myriad interests -- boys (or girls) -- that intrigued them.

After dinner was cleaned up and leftovers put away we migrated to the living room. We watched a little TV and I was introduced to a yet-to-be-experienced modern phenomena -- the battle for the remote control: the Sorority edition. Apparently it is a combination of Machiavellian politics, mortal combat, and the exploration of sexual frontiers.

Had I known it was this much fun, I would have introduced it to my room on the first weekend. As it was, your ally one moment would betray you by choosing the Women's Network the next. You can defend yourself by whatever means necessary -- be it tickling with fingers and toes (damn Iona's short, flexible legs), grabbing and fondling the breasts (or my package), nipple pulls, kissing, and your normal wrestling moves.

At its culmination, I was triple-tackled over the back of the sofa by Leigh, Paris, and Ferrara. I gamely held onto the remote and lue loods until my ally Paige rescued the device. I celebrated my victory for all of two seconds before Enchanted came on -- I had been deceived! There was a vague awareness on my part of Iona tumbling with Paige but I had my own problems.

"I don't have the remote anymore, Ferrara," I reminded her quietly. There was no need to freak out Aunt Jill who was all of ten feet away -- in her chair on the other side of the sofa.

"You don't have the remote and I don't have underwear," Ferrara leered down at me. She was sitting on my chest and was pressing her hands down on my elbows. The implication of that statement wasn't lost on me.

"I'm trying to have a no-sex weekend, honest," I pleaded.

"We knew about it before we came over," Leigh giggled, "and we don't believe it."

"And that is why we are all not wearing underwear," Paris teased.

"How did you find out about this and why are you tempting me?" I was afraid of the answer.

"Oh, the challenge is on your website," Ferrara grinned down at me, "as well as a suggestion list for achieving penetration from you." Oh, I was wrong; this answer was much worse than what I had been imagining.

"This has gone all over UV, hasn't it?" I groaned.

"Yep," Leigh snickered, "along with you and Barbie Lynn in the shower...all forty heart-racing minutes of it."

"Oh, Fucking God!" I screamed out in soul-wrenching anguish.

"What?" Jill inquired.

"Zane got a splinter and we are trying to work it out," Leigh answered. "We'll keep on him until we are satisfied that it is taken care of."

"I think we are going to have to suck on it," Paris giggled. Iona promptly appeared, leaning over the sofa.

"No, I think Zane's difficulties will be dealt with right before bedtime when we can get a good look at things," Iona insisted. I was saved!

"Oh, come on," Ferrara muttered.

"I imagine a little kiss on the lips wouldn't be out of order as a reward for your compassion," Iona offered as an appeasement. Ferrara looked down at me, her eyes smoldering.

"Okay," the three sorority girls agreed. What that meant for my immediate well-being was less obvious. Paris and Leigh massaged my cock a few more times, to the point I would have been grinding my teeth in frustration had it not been for Ferrara; apparently a 'kiss on the lips' meant something else to her.

Ferrara did a one-armed push up, worked her shorts down then off before shuffling forward on her knees to my face. She glowed lustfully down at me. This would be the point where I showed how perturbed I was about these ladies coming over and sexually assaulting me in my Aunt's house. Come on, who do they think I am? It's not like I go over to their house and...ah, damn it.

I grabbed each of Ferrara's butt cheeks and drew her lips over mine. As I pulled us into contact -- I didn't want to have to arch my neck to do what I wanted to do -- her legs spread wide to either side of my head. I waggled my tongue in deep for my initial approach. She was very richly wet with an enticing aroma. While soaking in all of this stimulation I was also convincing myself that I was still remaining true to my pledge...then Paris and Leigh began unbuckling, unzipping, and yanking my pants down.

"Hey," hissed Iona, barely above a whisper, "stop that." According to later accounts, one or both of the Kappa Sigmas looked up and gave Iona a raspberry. I was buried in Ferrara's honey box at the time, launching my own oral perversions. Normally I focus on having my woman enjoy the experience. In Ferrara's case, I wanted her to cum hard, fast, and soon.

I opened my mouth as wide as possible and sucked as much of her sex in as I could, then thrashed my tongue about violently. Next I tucked my tongue, scooped up her clit in a tight embrace and rubbed it over the ridges of my teeth. Ferrara bucked away from the move but I held on to her deliciously plush ass. I let her clit slip between my lip and tongue and rolled it over in a less vigorous pattern which calmed her down.

"Ah...God...ah...God," she whistled through clenched teeth. I would have grinned but I already had plans for my lips and teeth. I used my stiffened lower lip to part her labia that allowed my tongue to get a 'running start' at her clit from beneath. I didn't roll over the clitoris but crested the tip, rubbed my tongue there, and then retreated to repeat the process again.

Every lap stole a breath from Ferrara; every withdrawal caused her to tilt her hips to prolong contact. She clued us in to the close proximity of her climax by slamming a fist against the floor twice in rapid succession. Iona slipped a throw-pillow down to Ferrara but it took the girl a moment to realize it was there. Thankfully, she was able to grab it just in time. Ferrara placed it on the floor, pushed her face into it, and screamed.

I swear to God it wasn't my name she screamed. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

"Zane?" Jill called to me with curiosity.

"We've almost got that splinter taken care of," Paris piped up. Leigh would have agreed with that lie but she had nearly half my cock down her throat. According to Bill Clinton, a former President of the United States, this is not sex so my pledge was still good.

At that time Iona disappeared from sight and I had a difficult time believing she had abandoned me. Ferrara slumped down between my body and the back of the sofa, resting a knee on my chest. She was still taking deep, ragged breaths brought about by her orgasm.

"Are you okay?" I whispered to Ferrara. She just gave me a weird smile.

Leigh switched up with Paris, letting Paris put her lips on my cockhead and lick around the circumference. I propped my body up on my elbows so I could make eye contact.

"Come on -- stop it," I hissed to Paris and Leigh.

Leigh grinned seductively and shook her head. Paris rocked her head from side to side, which felt nice, but clearly wasn't about to stop.

"Basement," Ferrara commented. I had to assume that was a reference to the secret basement the Kappa Sigmas kept male sexual prisoners in, which may or may not have existed. They threatened me with it regularly so I had reason to be worried. The Kappa Sigmas responded with nods (brief in Paris' case) while I responded with a loud slap to Ferrara's inviting backside. She glared at me with a surprised and offended 'O' on her lips.

That reaction turned out to be more useful than I realized. Iona came speeding down the hallway from the kitchen with two tall glasses of ice water. At the last second the three realized she was coming but all Leigh could do was turn on her side. Iona dumped the glasses on Leigh and Paris. Leigh gasped and Paris shrieked (being the least aware of what was coming her way).

"I'm sorry, Aunt Jill," Iona said to our host to preempt the required question. "I had to put out a fire," she finished while looking down at the two top-soaked girls. Damn, Leigh has some really nice nipples. "I'm going to go fill these back up and get some paper towels to clean up this mess," Iona gave us all a cautionary look. "Ferrara, you dropped something," Iona indicated Ferrara's shorts with a tip of one of the glasses.

"What the hell?" growled Paris softly.

"She told you to stop that," I warned her. "Now we can go upstairs and I will give you some of my t-shirts to wear."

"I'm going to get Iona for this," Leigh grumbled.

"Me too," Paris added. My silence hadn't gone unnoticed.

"Zane, are you going to get in the way of our vengeance?" Ferrara questioned.

"Oh, hell no," I promised. "See, Iona and Paige are part of a group at FFU called the Science Club but in reality, they are the Time Lord Mafia. If you go after them, I'm running for cover. I promise I'll remember ya'll fondly."

"Oh, come on now," Ferrara rolled her eyes.

"Check that: I'll remember you fondly if they let me keep those memories. If you don't believe me, look up," I cautioned them. We all looked up and there was Paige who had been invisibly looking down on us, listening in.

"Hello, Ladies. Zane, I like that -- the Time Lord Mafia," Paige blessed me with a radiant smile. "I'll let Cordelia know and I'll even give you credit for the name." She pulled out her phone and proceeded to do just that.

"Zane, we are an international sisterhood," Ferrara stated smugly. "This Science Club is what; fifteen girls?"

"Hey, if you want every water source in your house to pump out Tang, be my guest," I chuckled. "Don't say I didn't warn you." Iona reappeared, gliding back with a towel over her arm and a full glass in each arm."

"Zane, we are a sorority; we can deal with this," Leigh smirked as she and Paris stood. Ferrara began wiggling back into her shorts.

"Leigh Douglas: born August 20th, age 21, majoring at the University of Virginia -- Lancaster with a grade point average of 3.3. Your first dog was a silver Yorkshire terrier named Buttons," Iona stated calmly. "Leigh, we like to know who is spending time with Zane. Paige, what would we do first?"

"I'm partial to re-routing all their information services to the Delta Omegas," Paige mused, citing one of their major sorority rivals, "including giving them access to their private Facebook accounts. I mean, nothing says "call me back for a second date" like a relationship status update that reads 'My herpes has almost cleared up'."