Borderline

"Sick of college already?" Michael asked her.

Breathing heavy in the phone, Erica partially laughed, and partially cried.

"Oh, so sick of it, M. Dorm life sucks. My roommate is so stupid. She's nasty -- and she'll fuck any guy who weighs more than a Volkswagon. My neighbors play Backstreet Boys every night. One prof hits on me, which wouldn't be a problem, but he's -- oh -- just older than my dead grandfather. And another prof hits on me, but I'm not so sure what I think about her yet."

"Too funny."

"Not really," Erica responded. "It's not really funny at all."

Michael -- 80 miles away -- scratched the back of his head and thought of his friend. She was having it rough. They'd been friends for about a year now, having met at an Everclear concert. He was older, 24. She was 18 -- about to turn 19 in a week.

"I won't if I don't survive this next week. If my roomie decides to have a threesome with two guys, it might cause a devastating earthquake," she lamented. "It might destroy the Midwest."

Erica wondered what M was doing -- that was her nickname for him. They usually talked about music or relationships ... but sometimes they talked sex. There were no secrets between them.

"I haven't even been able to have enough privacy to use Woody," she snickered. Woody was a black eight inch dildo he'd given her at her high school graduation.

"So you never get lonely," he had told her.

God, she thought, I am so lonely tonight. And while talking to M was good for a dirty thought or two, she really just wanted to get out of Urbana and go see him in Indianapolis -- but it was a long drive to make -- at least in her car.

As if he could read her mind, he made the suggestion: "Hey ... let's meet tonight. I can't stay out all night. I have to work in the morning," he said.

She smiled and frowned again. "Why on a Saturday?"

"Part of the job. You know that." Michael was a disc jockey for a Indianapolis radio station that played alternatives -- from B.B. King to Phish to The Replacements.

She wasn't going to turn him down. She hadn't seen him in two months and missed him -- he made her laugh.

"Meet me at our Bigfoot along I-70. We'll hang out for a few hours."

"I'm there," she responded.

It was a 45-minute trip for her, just over an hour for him. They pulled up to the gas station that sat along the state border of Indiana and Illinois. They hugged and got into Michael's car. It was 1 a.m. His 2000 Grand Prix looked good compared to Erica's 1989 Chevy thing.

"That's what Adam Sandler was referring to in 'Ode To My Car,' eh? Buy that from him?"

"Fuck you," she laughed.

"Please," he smiled. They were under a large billboard next to the gas station. On one side said: Welcome To Indiana - the Hoosier State. On the other, it said: Welcome To Illinois - The Lincoln State.

"I would, but I'd kill you."

"Not a bad way to die," Michael chuckled. They always flirted. He'd even caught her masturbating while they were talking on the phone once. Not that he didn't encourage that.

And not that he didn't get hard thinking about her, either.

She looked at his dark brown eyes. They captivated her. And his clean, straight teeth. He wasn't a kid looking for a piece, he was a friend that liked to see her laugh.

He looked at her. She was thinking something. What? He wasn't sure. She was wearing a sweet perfume on her neck. Her long brown hair draped down the front of her Everclear T-shirt that he suggested she buy at the concert. It was well word. Her breasts -- 34C if she wasn't lying to him, and he didn't think she was -- were lifted in their bra. Lucky bra, he thought.

She was cotton pants that she normally slept in -- she was thinking about going to sleep when the meeting was planned, so this was just a fun night. Her body and scent was turning him on.

"Thank God I'm with you. At least I have a little privacy now," Erica said. She had wanted to shock him for months now, and here was her chance. Her fingers fished into her bookbag she'd brought along. There, she felt it. She hestitated. Should she? Fuck it. You're only 18 once.

Woody The Dildo was lifted out of her bag.

"Hey, there's your old friend," M smiled.

"It's been a long time since he and I have had any fun," Erica complained.

There was a thick silence in the air of the car. The green glow of the clock-radio shined against E's smile. She leaned forward to M. "I've got to tell you something," she said.

He felt his heart skip and his cock swell. No way. Cool. No way. Oh yeah. Whoa.

"What's that, Erica?" he leaned forward, like they were telling a secret in a crowded room, even though they were in his car with the windows rolled up.

Instead of words, she took to action. She kissed his ear, ran her tongue along his cheek and against his lips as he finally turned his face to meet hers.

They had been friends for a year. Now, they were going to be lovers.

Their lips collided. They both thought: Wow. A good kisser. He was happy the car didn't have a center panel, and he was able to pull her against him. His fingers caressed the back of her neck and he kissed her shoulders. She pulled back from him and took off her Everclear T. He leaned forward and kissed her, reaching behind her and unclipping her bra. So much for the luck of that bra, now I have the luck, he smiled to himself. Her breasts -- 34cs -- invited his touch.

Erica pulled his face to hers, and then to her breasts. His lips traveled across her breasts, first her left, then her right ... sucking on her breasts, she moaned. She had told him how sensitive her breasts were before, and he remembered. Woody was between her legs. She picked up the pleasure instrument and leaned back.

"Mmm..."

"Damn, Erica. You are so bad."

"I know. Help me."

He grabbed her sleep-pants and slowly pulled them off her hips. She was feeling so wet. Inside the gas station, people were walking around looking for Snickers or Pepsi, and here she was, about to make love to herself and her friend.

Michael buried his face against her stomach and lowered himself. He looked up to her.

"You're wearing Pooh panties, hon."

"Complaining?"

He decided action was smarter than words, pulling the elastic aside to reveal the lips of her pussy. He kissed, ran his tongue along her, and deep into her. He pulled her Pooh panties to the side more and returned -- this time to her clit, sucking hard on her wet flesh.

"You need to lose some clothes," Erica demanded, breathing.

As he pulled off his shirt, she touched his chest and lean waist with her left hand. With her right hand, she glided the dildo slowly against her pussy lips. She spread her legs.

He reached forward ...

"No, the jeans, too, my friend."

It was intense. They were smiling at each other. Outside, a Jeep Cherokee with four college girls from Indiana State University pulled up.

"Oh my God," one whispered to the others. One looked away, but the others checked out the show while walking into the store.

Fuck it, Michael thought, ripping down his jeans, his hard cock pressing against his Tommy Hilfinger boxers.

"Yes!" the one girl laughed, still staring.

"Damn skippy," Erica said. She put Woody in her mouth for a moment, getting the dildo wet, and placed it again at her favorite orifice. She slowly drove it into her skin, her pussy wrapping around it and slicking it. Michael grapped her hips and brought her to him. He returned to her clit. He loved giving oral. She knew that from previous conversations, but most guys were just talk.

He was telling the truth, she smiled as he sucked on her clit slowly, then harder, then slowly bathed her pussy and took control of the dildo while she caressed her breast with her right arm and held his head with her left.

The windows were steaming as he ate her out. On the radio, Counting Crowes played. She felt herself becoming flush, her climax approaching.

"Oh, fuck. God. Fuck. OH GoD!" she breathed. "MMM...god, Michael, don't stop. Do that. Don't stop!"

Like I was thinking about stopping, he thought. He loved her taste. Wet, musky and almost metallic. He looked up at her pleasuring her breasts, and moved his left arm to join her right arm on her breasts.

Then it happened. She looked through the steaming windows and saw the one sorority girl staring at her. It was too much. The ISU girl just stared at her ... it made her so much more wet just knowing she had an audience.

"Oh my GOD!" she screamed as she came on Woody The Dildo and Michael's face. "Oh GOD! SOOOO GOood!" she repeated. He lapped at her passion as the wetness soaked his car's front seat. He kissed her inner thigh ... and brought his tongue down her inner leg to her thigh...slowly teasing her with Woody The Dildo as he pulled it out of her pussy and placed it on her taunt belly.

He leaned forward, kissing her stomach and breasts before leaning to her face again. She inhaled his tongue as they kissed again. She loved the taste of herself on another guy. She suspected she was bi, but hadn't had a girl-girl experience quite yet.

But the way that girl was looking at her sure put her over the top in a way she hadn't been put over the top before.

The four girls came back outside of the gas station. Three walked to the right of M's car to their vehicle on the right, but the girl who had been staring ... a short, busty strawberry blonde walked to Michael's driver side door and tapped on the window.

"Oh, damn," he laughed, trying to hide his hardness, but Erica just remained spread eagled, basking in afterglow and feeling like a porn star for this busty girl.

Michael rolled down his window.

"Yes?" he asked her.

"Hey. How you doing?" she said.

"Um. Pretty good."

"Looks like it. You're going to need these," she smiled, handing him a 12-pack of condoms.

Erica and Michael laughed. Erica leaned over to the driver's side door and looked at the girl.

"Yes, he is," she said, Erica's tongue darting from his neck and cascading his chest.

"Enjoy the night," the strawberry blonde said, walking away. Michael began to lean back as Erica began attacking his boxer shorts. He held the condom box in one hand, and left the window down a little bit. He was going to need the air.

Erica lifted her ass obscenely in the air while the foursome of girls pulled away from M's car. She hoped they were enjoying the show. She knew at least one person was -- besides she and Michael.