Options Ch. 03

Used tissues filled the small rubbish can near her desk. Stacy's eyes were swollen and her nostrils pink around the edges. But her breathing had almost returned to normal by the time the knock came. Her voice even sounded controlled.

"Who is it?" Stacy called.

"Barb, it's me—Stacy!"

"Barb?"

"Yeah,Barb, it's me. Barb!" Goofy laughter rippled through the door. "Stacy—Staaa-cyyy, it's me, St— I mean,Barb."

Stacy got up, went to the door and put an eye to the peephole. Barb swayed outside, and mumbled, "Meee . . . Baaar—buh. Buh. Buh. Baaar-buh!"

Stacy opened the door and stared.

"Oh, hiii, Stacy," she gushed. Then she murmured in a low voice. "Staaa-cyyy I'm so, so, sooo sorry. For, like, earlier. So, um, yeah. So," Barb steadied herself but stood only slightly straighter, "Would you like to join me in a little drinky?"

"You'd better come in, Barb—"

"Baaar-buh!"

"Hush up, the RA—" Stacy grabbed the young woman's arm, dragged her into the room and shut the door.

"The RA?" Barb found her footing after a brief struggle and announced, "She can join us, too, 'kay?"

"No, Barb, we can get kicked outtaschoolfo' that shit. Hush, now!"

Barb held a finger to her lips, shrugged and wrinkled her nose. She grinned then she belched.

"Oopsie." Her face flushed a bit more. "Excusez-moi, ma chérie." Her hand stroked Stacy's jawline. The Southerner locked onto Barbara's eyes and felt her heart skip. She flashed back to a trip to Canada when she spent an hour masturbating to the TV weathergirl's voice—and she understood nothing. But the cooing sounds of the French language melted her faster than crushed ice on a summer two-lane. Stacy squeezed her thighs together. The movement was so reflexive and so fleeting that Stacy might not have noticed, except for the soft jolt of warmth that radiated through her tummy.

Barbara set her backpack on the desk. "I have some Vodka," she declared, holding up a jug of red juice. "And cranberry," she said, lifting out a half-empty flask of clear liquid.

Barb blinked slowly, smiled again, and asked, "Glasses?"

"On the desk."

"Goodie." Barb turned and seemed to have trouble finding what she wanted. Then she doubled over. Stacy thought that Barb might throw up right there on the floor. But when she turned back around to face Stacy, Barb was lost in a serious bout of silent laughter.

"Not yourreadingglasses, baby." She held up the containers again. "Drinkglasses."

"On, no, thanks."

"Oh, no, I insist."

"No—"

"No, no. Now, I won't take 'no' for an answer." Barbara blinked, and swayed a little. "I maygiveit as an answer. But I won'ttakeit. No. Nooo!" She guffawed at her joke.

Stacy decided to go along, to stall for time.Maybe she'll fall asleep,she thought.

"Okay, I'll get 'em. Why donch y'all have a seat and get comfy." The girl went into the bathroom.

"Good idea." Barb set the bottles on the desk. In one fluid motion she slipped off her panties and gave them a kick. "Com-fy!" She retrieved the alcohol and mixer and sat on what she assumed was Stacy's bed. She tossed her head to flounce her hair, tilted her face down and practiced her sexiest, "Come hither" look.

As the girl returned with two plastic cups, Barb looked at her and whispered, "Come. Hither." She fluttered her lashes. Stacy was about to let herself fall for the act when Barb dissolved into peals of laughter.

"Sexy, huh?"

"Only jus' a li'l bit," Stacy lied as she tried to still the thudding in her chest. She wondered,What the fuck is it with this chick? Why does she get to me like that?

"What's 'hither' mean, anyway?"

"It means, 'here,' like in 'hither and yon'."

"'Yawn'?"

"Yon, you know. Like, 'yon-der'? 'Hither and yon,' means, 'here and there'."

"Oooh." Barb snickered. "I thought it was like a girl's name, like, 'Heather'. You know? 'Come, Heather'." Her voice grew naughty. "Or is that, 'Cum, Hither'." She laughed again.

"Naw, pretty sure it means, 'here'."

"Oh, 'kay."

"Here," Syact suggested, taking the bottles to her desk. She poured a little of each into both glasses, but left them behind. She sat in her desk chair facing her guest.

"So, um, is your roomie due back soon? Hither, I mean." Barbara giggled. Stacy smiled for an instant in spite of herself.

"Naw, she, um, well, see, she got, like, knocked up and left school. Went back t' herMomma. Ah swear Ah'll nevah let noma-yanfuckme." Stacy shook her head. "Sorry. Um, yeah. So, Ah don' have a roommate for, like, the res' o' the semester."

"'Kay! Fun story," Barb giggled again.

Stacy watched Barb: she watched the pulse beat at the base of her throat; she watched the rise and fall of her seductive chest; she watched as Barb arched her back and her nipples hardened beneath her dress; she watched as reddish brown hair dangled behind her shoulders; she watched as the legs uncrossed; she watched the left hand traced up the shapely thigh; she watched, transfixed, as the hem rose to reveal more and more skin.

Barb bared her hip until it became plain that she wore nothing under her dress. Stacy felt droplets of dewy heat flow and her lips seared with desire. Her lust mixed with embarrassment, frustration and a hint of anger. It was a volatile combination.

Barbara hiked her dress up to her waist and spread her legs. Her fingertips caressed herself, opening her pussy and circling her glistening clit. "Stacy, will you lick me?"

"But, um, what about Shelly?

"She's not here," Barb whispered as she looked at her aroused sex. Her fingers continued their lewd dance as her eyes met Stacy's. "You can lick her later, though, 'kay?"

Barb lay back. One hand mauled her breast. Stacy could see the nipple, thick and prominent, pinched between Barbara's thumb and forefinger. She looked between pale, quaking thighs and noticed the spreading intimate sheen of arousal as Barb's musk spiced the air.

"Oooh," Barbara whimpered. "God, this feels sooo good. Oh, baby, come lick me. Please?Oooh . . . please!"

The next surreal moments would remain forever etched in Stacy's memory. She knelt between trembling legs and followed the shiny rivulet until it disappeared in the cleft of Barb's rounded ass. A heavenly scent seized Stacy's thoughts and made her feel drunk with need and power. She determined to spoil Barbara for anyone else.

Her hands rested on the inside of Barb's legs and pushed them farther apart.

"Please, oh please, baby, hurry!" Her body quivered in anticipation.

"Ah'm right heah, baby. An' Ah'm gonna make ya feel sooo good." Stacy claimed her territory. She leaned forward and slithered her tongue up and down her lover's luscious, steamy crease. The taste triggered a burst of lust endorphins in Stacy's mind and elevated her need. She pressed forward, dug her tongue into the yielding liquid depths and felt the clinging touch of feminine lips against her cheeks. She went deeper and coated her face in the headwaters of her woman's sexual essence. She smiled into Barb.

"Oh, fuck, that's it! Lick me, baby." Barb's eyes were closed. She pinched her nipple with one hand and stroked her flushed clit right under Stacy's nose with the other. "I love it when you lick me, Shelly. Oh, God, Iloveyou, Shell!"

Stacy rocked back onto her heels as though she had been struck.

"What? What's happened, baby? Why'd you stop?" Barb sat up with a bleary-eyed look of unfulfilled lust and confusion. One hand played absently with her nipple while the other reached out for Stacy. ForShelly. "Please don't stop, baby. It felt sooo gooood. C'mere."

"Shelly," Stacy sobbed. "You,love, Shelly?"

"Stacy? Where's . . . . But, whereisShelly? Isn't she here with us?" Barb focused with an effort. "Oh, God, Shelly." Her face twisted. "We . . . we had a fight, after you left. I walked out. And I left her there. Oh, God, what'd I just do!" Barb rolled onto her side. Her legs closed, she curled into a fetal position and began to cry into the pillow.

Stacy mind tumbled. She thought Barb and Shelly were just sleeping together, just having a little "sports sex." But love? And wasn't Shelly a bit of a player, not someone who'd commit?

Her first emotion was self-pity, to lament that she wasn't in the loving relationship she desired so badly for so long. She thought she was the one to make Barbara happy, thattheycould have something special together. But now?

Now, she realized, Barb had already chosen.

Stacy knew love was fickle. It was certainly nothing to trivialize. On top of that, she had a selfish superstition. She believed that if she "stole" love, she would forever be denied love herself. Her thoughts spun and percolated, competed with one another and, finally, sorted themselves. She wiped her eyes and steeled her nerves.

She knew what she had to do next.

* * * * * * *

The shock had subsided, replaced by a melancholy loneliness. Shelly had been looking forward to immersing herself in seriously amazing sex with two suh-weet chicks. The fact the she found one smokin' hot, and loved the other, made her hornier than she could remember. It was all she could think about for days.

Yet somehow the night deteriorated into her sitting alone, frustrated, and confused. Then she grew pissed off big time!

She toyed with the nachos, took a bite but had trouble swallowing it. She lost any appetite for food and just pushed the ingredients around into odd shapes and alien color combinations as she debated what to do next.

Her cell phone sang Stacy's ringtone. As she picked up Shelly wondered if this was an apology or another rant, and how she'd handle either option. She wondered if she should answer at all. Then it was too late. The ringing stopped.

Shelly thought she should get rid of the cool ringtone she gave Stacy when it rang again. "Fuck," she muttered. She answered, "Hello."

"Shelly?"

"Yeah, Stace." Shelly's voice remained flat and noncommittal.

"Yeah, hey. Um, you better, like, get over heah. Barb's heah, and she's, um, she's like a li'l bit snockered."

Shelly flushed. "So? Take care of it. You two think just alike, so I'm sure you'll—"

"Nah, Shelly, y'all wait a minute." Stacy paused. "Please?"

Shelly closed her mouth, took a deep breath and let it out, releasing some of her anger with the exhalation.

"Shelly, Barblovesyou."

"Yuh huh, and she just, what . . .toldyou that, I s'pose?"

"Well, ye-ah."

Shelly's eyes stung. She had wanted Barb to say those words for weeks, but neither one had ever mentioned it. Shelly was beginning to think it was one-sided, that she was getting ahead of herself. Maybe Babs was just "experimenting." She worried that if she pushed, if she confessed her feelings to Barbara that she might lose her instead. But now?

"She hasn't saidshittome, Stacy. Why thefuckwould she tellyou?"

"Ah said, 'she'ssnockered'. Look, she had some t' drink, came by and . . . Jus' c'mover and Ah'll explain it all to ya, 'kay? Please?"

Well, maybe notall, Stacy thought,but almost all.

"Okay! I'll be right there."

Shelly strode down the hallway and got ready to rap on Stacy's door, but the girl pulled it open as though she had been watching through the peephole. Shelly almost knocked on Stacy's face then immediately regretted that she stopped herself.

"Hey. Y'all c'min."

Shelly surveyed the room as she entered. Barb lay on the bed and appeared to be asleep. Then she mumbled and her body moved in a restless shifting. Her hem rode up and it looked as though—

"Ah'm sorry. 'Bout earlier," the girl spoke to Shelly's back. "I don' know what's wrong with me. But I think I overdid it. Too emotional, an' all y'all were so sweet to me, too. Sorry. Ah'm really, really sorry."

Shelly saw the backpack on the desk, along with two plastic tumblers, and what looked like vodka and cranberry. On the bed across from Barb lay a pair of panties that looked very familiar. She could feel the heat rise to her cheeks. She turned to Stacy, who misread Shelly's expression. The girl softened and knew everything was going to work out after all.

"Barb came ovah and had been drinkin'. She said some stuff she might not o' said normally, and that's when she said she loves you. Kinda like blurted it out, actually."

Shelly drew closer. She saw that Stacy had been crying, but could muster no sympathy for her.

"I jus' thought you should know," Stacy told her in a gentle Southern drawl.

Shelly's brown eyes flashed.

"Stacy, why thefuckdo you smell like Barb's pussy?"