College Girls Ch. 03

Something in Fawn's expression changed as Susan looked towards her. The bland, doormat look was gone, and now she was looking at Ken with a brave, hopeful smile. Ken wasn't looking back, though. He was watching Kate. Peter was still positioned over her. He was rubbing his cock along her oozing slit, the tip bumping against her, pushing her folds apart. Susan wasn't sure if Peter was being awkward or if he was trying to maintain some sort of teasing control. If so, he was barely holding it together. A muscle spasmed on one side of Peter's face, but the effect on Kate was even more electric. She thrashed her hips, frantically trying to position the head of his cock properly to slip inside her. Her mouth was open and her eyes darted from side to side in a sort of panic. Her shoulders came up off of the couch so that her head tilted back, pressing harder on Susan's thigh.

Susan looked at Peter, feeling almost as distraught as Kate. Come on, what are you waiting for? Can't you see how much she needs it?

Peter's face looked strained, as if his head was at war with his loins. But Kate's carnality was sapping his will; and then her thighs wrapped around his hips, and that did it. He sank into her with harsh, dissonant groans from both of them. They began to move together immediately, violent slaps sounding as their bodies met. Beads of sweat sprang from Peter's forehead, dripped down his face and onto Kate's chest. Her look was wide-eyed, astonished, her cries guttural now, from deep in her chest every time Peter's hips lunged towards hers.

But Peter wasn't ready to abandon himself, he was fighting it, fighting his own primal needs. Susan could see the resolution on his face, and with a single brutal effort he pulled himself almost upright, kneeling at the end of the couch with his cock still buried deep between Kate's folds, perspiration gleaming on his chest, his expression unreadable again, but his eyes looking straight into Susan's. Her mouth opened in shock. He'd been thinking about her the whole time. Susan looked away only to find Luke staring at her. He had pulled himself back together and his expression was the one she liked least, cool and appraising.

This is pretty fucked up, Susan thought. Peter and Ken are watching me, I'm watching Peter, Ken is watching Kate, Fawn's looking at Ken. Susan shook her head. I shouldn't be part of this. I'm lucky to have Ken. He's good for me, he challenges me, opens me up, teaches me about myself.

She forced herself to concentrate on Ken, on what was doing to her. His hand was slipping all the way under her hips, forcing her to lift them a little off of the couch, touching her in places where … where she wasn't used to being touched. She realized that Peter could see her, and probably Luke too. Actually, Luke was looking at her pretty intently. The hell with him, she thought. She reached down and wriggled her butt until she could work her panties off, then pulled them down and off her feet. She leaned back and opened herself for Ken, feeling liberated and primitive and devastatingly sexy.

Ken's hands caressed her skin, glided along her inner thigh and the ridge at the top of her hip. He laid his palm on her belly. His flesh seemed to burn against hers. She was suddenly so sensitive everywhere. His breathing deepened as he ruffled her pubic hair. It was his way, she realized. Like slow music. He was savoring her in the same way he would sip a glass of his beloved Margaux. Susan smiled luxuriously and relaxed into his rhythm, feeling the sensations heighten with each stroke of his fingertips.

Even so, she couldn't really ignore Kate and Peter – Kate's head banged against Susan's leg with each thrust of Peter's hips. Susan looked down to the point where their bodies met. The long, slick shaft of Peter's cock slid in and out savagely, stretching her lips wide and pushing them in on every stroke. His balls were hidden beneath their bodies, but she could hear their slap each time their hips came together. The muscles on Peter's chest were pulled tight and the complicated ridges of his stomach rippled and contracted. He reached down and covered Kate's mound with his hand. Susan felt her own excitement spike out of control and she realized that Ken was rubbing his thumb in circles around her clit, just as Peter was starting to do to Kate. Susan squirmed hard against Ken's hand, and he slid one finger all the way inside her. She gasped and grabbed his arm, holding him there while her pussy contracted hard and moisture spurted. She arched her back, but her eyes stayed on Peter. Their gazes locked for a moment, and Susan's vision narrowed. All she could see was Peter's face and his shoulders, as if everything else in the universe had momentarily faded away. A sheen of perspiration illuminated his skin, and his clear brown eyes, more enigmatic than ever, stared so deeply into hers that she finally had to look down. But that was even worse. Now she was watching Kate's breasts sway violently at the impact of Peter's hips and her stomach curving smoothly into the darkness where the rigid column of his cock, dark with blood, pumped in and out, the rounded tip pausing for a moment at her entrance each time, and his dark pubic hair holding sparkling drops of her liquid.

For a moment Susan lost track of what was happening to her. The constant pressure that Ken had been applying was suddenly gone. Its loss left her stunned and almost desperate, but then she felt Kate take her hand, and at the same moment her legs were being pushed farther apart. She sighed and squeezed back on Kate's fingers, knowing what was coming next, and she could finally look away from Peter and close her eyes.

She tried to figure out where Ken was now – on his knees in front of her, leaning over her? In front, she decided. If he were leaning over her she'd feel his chest against her leg, but there was only the whispery touch of his fingers on her inner thighs and his warm breath on her pussy. She was already so aroused she didn't want to wait any longer to feel his tongue inside her. But rushing wasn't his way. He kissed her thighs everywhere; and she imagined all her nerve endings lighting up. And his fingers caressed her where his mouth had just been, stoking the sensations, enflaming her, keeping her at the edge of … something, something she'd only imagined but never knew if she could really have. And every time she thought his lips would touch her where she most wanted him, he would pull back, and then he began to give her little bites, just pulling at her flesh with his lips, scraping it here and there with his teeth, letting her feel the different textures of his mouth, and licking, tickling … and then, oh!, finally brushing her outer lips with his nose, with his lips, kissing them, blowing lightly on them. She wriggled on the couch, tilting her hips up, trying to get closer to him, but the weight of Kate's head and shoulders prevented her from moving much. She bit her lip in frustration. But Ken didn't react. He kept kissing her, nuzzling her. Now he was following the inner landscape of her loins with the tip of his tongue, barely touching her, just tracing the contours of her folds, pausing to lick up her moisture.

Susan's body was feeling so warm she imagined that she would be covered in sweat before long, her t-shirt sticking to her skin, clinging to her damp breasts and belly. Should she just take it off now or would Ken like seeing her like that? Those thoughts scattered when Ken began to suck on her inner lips, running his tongue across the trapped skin. His fingers were there too, and one had begun to worm back into her recesses, squelching against the swollen flesh. She heard herself making small, sharp cries every time his lips explored some new spot that always seemed to be even more sensitive than the last.

He had a second finger inside her now, and her breathing became erratic. She couldn't coordinate her motions; her muscles just wouldn't respond. She tingled everywhere and her body tightened and she knew she was past the point of no return. Ken's tongue lashed across her clit and Susan screamed. Her pussy contracted hard and she felt as if she were being overwhelmed by a wave that left her drenched and breathless and so sensitive that she wanted to push Ken away; but she couldn't. She was paralyzed, all her nerve endings firing at once. And then it happened again, her body spasming uncontrollably, and then she had to make him stop, she had no choice, only she still couldn't move.

But, as always, Ken could sense her mood perfectly, and he pulled away and sat back down next to her, arm around her shoulder, rubbing her back gently. Clarity returned little by little, although her pussy kept quivering and muted ripples of pleasure continued to flow through her body. She was vaguely aware of Peter groaning sharply and Kate's voice becoming a hoarse wail and her body stiffening against Susan's leg.

And then it was very quiet. The music had stopped – had stopped quite a while earlier, Susan guessed – and there were no sounds at all, just breathing and the wall heater cycling on and off. When Susan finally opened her eyes, she realized that Ken had thoughtfully pulled her shirt down to cover her pussy and he was lightly touching her neck and her cheek. Her return to consciousness was almost like a signal to the others. Peter and Kate were sitting up and rearranging their clothing. Luke stood and stretched. He'd re-tied his robe at some point, Susan was relieved to see. He went into the kitchen and came back with a handful of shot glasses and the now-half-empty bottle of tequila. He poured a couple of fingers for everyone and passed it around. Susan tried to demur, but Luke gave her a glass anyway. Everyone (except Susan) knocked back their shots, and it gave them all an excuse not to talk for another minute or two.

And then Luke, who was still standing, looked around the room casually and asked: "So are you guys ready to switch?"

Kate giggled, and Fawn's eyes darted towards Ken for a second. Susan's thoughts drained abruptly from her head. She knew that she needed to say something, but no ideas came. She tried again, even opened her mouth, but still nothing happened. There was a pause that drew out right to the limit. One more second, Susan prayed, one more second, and if no one says anything it won't happen …

Then, of all people, Fawn piped up with: "Sure. That sounds like fun."

Everyone glanced slowly at everyone else now. Ken's arm held her a little more lightly. Kate, for once, looked down shyly and blushed. And it seemed that the decision had been made without Susan quite realizing how. It was another moment before she noticed that she was staring right at Luke. The grin she hated began to form at the corners of his mouth.

"How about it, Susan?" he asked. "Are you up for it?"

Her throat went dry. But that didn't matter, since she didn't have the dimmest idea of how to reply. She looked towards Ken for support, but he was wearing his Buddha smile. Was it the tequila kicking in or was he just letting her choose, not putting any pressure on her one way or the other? Susan felt completely flustered. She tried again to speak, to buy herself some time …

And Peter stepped between her and Luke.

"Hey," he said lightly. "I saw her first. Susan, would you like to dance?"

She could breathe again. The wave of relief was as intense as her orgasms had been a few minutes earlier. Peter had his hand out. She glanced quickly back at Luke. He looked stunned, standing in the middle of the room with an almost comically perplexed expression. He was used to getting his way, she figured, and he hadn't decided how to react to this turn of events. Susan had to put her hand in front of her mouth to avoid laughing.

She stood up and glanced back at Ken. He smiled indulgently. Then, at the last second, she remembered Kate, now sitting almost primly at her end of the couch. She looked a little blank, perhaps not completely recovered from her session with Peter. Susan took that as permission. She rose and accepted Peter's hand. He led her over to the other side of the living room and picked out something slow from the stack of CD's. Peter put his arm around her waist and she melted into him as the music started.

Susan wasn't much of a dancer normally – she always felt too self-conscious to really enjoy herself. But this was different, completely different.

"Thanks for rescuing me," she whispered into Peter's ear.

"Hey, my pleasure. I've always wanted to dance with you."

They swayed quietly for a moment, Susan comfortably aware of his lingering sexual scent and his gradually hardening cock pressing against her stomach. But that was no big deal. She always associated Peter with sex, so it was all a familiar part of the picture. She felt very mellow right now, and she could appreciate him without the bewildering, guilt-saturated yearning she usually felt.

"This is a little weird," Susan said.

Peter nodded companionably.

"Sorry I was … sharp with you earlier," she added.

He kissed her lightly on the neck as a reply.

They weren't alone, Susan noted idly. Ken was dancing with Fawn, her steps a little tentative, his elegant, as they always were. Kate and Luke were standing nearby, but they were talking in low voices, not dancing. As Susan looked over, trying to make out what they were saying, Luke gave her his appraising glance. She quickly put her head back against Peter's shoulder.

"It's all right," he said, "if you don't want to …"

She looked at him quizzically.

"You know … switch."

Susan stiffened. Until now, she'd just been worried about getting away from Luke. She hadn't been able to think beyond that. But suddenly she felt that sweet ache at her center, the pressure building gradually, irresistibly.

"Susan, are you okay?"

She had stopped moving and let go of him. How had this happened? Peter was staring her. She didn't see lust or swagger or masculine pride in his eyes, just affection and a little concern. She looked back at him, suddenly lost in his deep liquid gaze.

"Yes," she said. "I'm okay. And, well … you know, if everyone else wants to …"

"Peter?"

Susan's concentration was broken, but she couldn't react yet. Too many things were going on in her head.

"Peter?"

It was Kate's voice. There was a catch in it, a little nervous tremor. Kate had moved close to them and she was looking back and forth, from Peter's face to Susan's.

Peter finally turned towards her. "What?"

His voice had just the slightest edge to it.

"Peter, I'm pretty tired – all the skiing, you know? Can we just go to bed now?"

She was almost pleading. Susan saw a dozen emotions race across Peter's face so quickly she couldn't quite identify them: Disappointment? Anger? Frustration?

He finally nodded. "Right now?"

"Yes, please." Like a little girl.

Susan exhaled slowly, uncertain which of that range of emotions she should be feeling herself.

Kate took Peter by the arm and led him away. And Susan was suddenly standing by herself in the middle of the room. It finally occurred to her that the field was clear for Luke again. Now that was a non-starter.

"Ken?"

He and Fawn were still dancing, apparently oblivious to all the drama. But Ken looked up right away, catching the urgency in Susan's voice.

"I think I'm going to call it a night," she said.

Ken nodded. Fawn looked a little shell-shocked.

He kissed her on the cheek. "Thanks for the dance. Until tomorrow, then?"

Fawn didn't respond, and Ken untangled himself from her embrace. He took Susan's hand.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"I am now."

* * *

Susan took her turn in the bathroom and found Ken snoring softly when she came out. She felt a little guilty pang. Was he angry at her? Or maybe he'd just had a little too much to drink after a long day. The dance with Peter had left her feeling a bit … restless. All right, very restless. She had hoped to work on that with Ken, get the whole episode in the living room out of her system.

She sighed. She wasn't really tired. Quite the contrary. Getting into bed with Ken right now would just make things worse. But she couldn't really go downstairs, not after publicly declaring that she was ready to call it a night. She spent a few minutes brushing her hair. She looked out the bedroom window. Snow was falling, catching the light from the back deck and drifting in silent spirals. Susan shivered and wished that she had a cup of tea.

She stuck her head into the hallway. Silence. She really, really wanted a cup of tea.

She waited another moment then padded downstairs in her t-shirt and bare feet. She seemed to be the only person awake anywhere on earth. She poked around in the kitchen cabinets until she found some tea things. She'd started the kettle going and was taking a tea bag out of its little paper envelope when she heard a voice.

"Hey." It was almost a whisper.

Susan froze.

"Couldn't sleep?" Peter asked. He was wearing sweat pants and no shirt.

Susan exhaled slowly and shook her head. "No."

"Me either. Where's Ken?"

"Snoring. How about Kate?"

"Out like a light. Can you make me a cup too?"

She nodded and busied herself with the pouring and steeping. She dragged the process out a little, enjoying the little domestic scene. She'd never really done normal things like this with Peter – the clothing always seemed to come off before they could just be around each other like regular people. She finally handed him his mug, careful not to touch his fingers. They stood close to each other, looking at the steam rising.

"Would you like to finish that dance?" Peter asked.

Suddenly her heart was beating so fast she couldn't hold her cup steady. She put it down, sloshing a little onto the counter.

"Was that a yes?"

She made a very small nod. Peter looked at her over the rim of his mug with the same dark, flashing eyes that always drained her of her judgment. He nodded back and walked into the living room, leaving her alone in the small kitchen. The house was quiet again for a moment, then she heard something sad and sweet and very soft playing on the stereo. The music drew her closer. Peter was waiting inside, almost a silhouette in the dark room. The light from the kitchen painted the smooth contours of his chest with silver. She put her head against his shoulder and her arms around him. She could feel the beat of his heart through his bare skin, steady and comforting.

They didn't dance so much as hold each other. Her nipples were so stiff and sensitive that it hurt a little to press her chest against his. His cock was growing, working its way into the space between their bodies. She wanted to reach into his sweats and feel it, but she held back, for now anyway, and just rubbed her belly a little from side to side against the front of his pants. Peter's breathing lost its reassuring steadiness. Susan smiled to herself and swayed a little faster.

And then, without really meaning to, she was kissing him. When their lips touched she felt completely connected to him. That was his gift. When she was with him like this, nothing else seemed important. Ken, Kate, Luke … they all just receded, faded. She let her fingers stray through his dark hair. She was aware without really thinking about it that the bulge in his pants was pushing against her and that her hips were gyrating in response. Her pussy felt warm and slippery and everything seemed to be moving with such a dream-like slowness that she didn't notice at first that he'd stepped away from her.

"Susan?" He held out his hand. "Susan, follow me."

Peter's voice was so soft that she almost didn't recognize it. He had taken her hand and was pulling her along, past a door that led to a powder room and down a short, dark hallway. He opened another door at the end, led her inside, and closed it behind them.