Dana's Story Ch. 26-28

Until Zoe threw her pencil down with a frustrated sound. "I can't take it anymore," she announced.

Dana looked up from her novel. "What?"

Zoe stood up, hugging herself. "I'm so horny I can't think straight!"

Dana sympathized. She'd read the same page of her novel at least three times and still hadn't really absorbed it. Her thoughts kept turning to sex, and how badly she wanted it.

"What are you gonna do about it?" Dana asked, though she already knew.

Zoe grinned, perfectly aware that Dana knew the answer. "I'm gonna rub one out so I can think again."

"Just one?"

Zoe laughed. "Okay, several. You don't mind, I hope?"

Dana said she wouldn't mind. In fact, the thought aroused her.

"Great!" Zoe said. She stripped from the waist down and climbed into bed, discreetly concealing her antics beneath the covers. She'd raised and spread her knees and Dana heard the muffled buzz of Zoe's vibrator as she got down to business.

Dana tried to ignore her. She really did. But her eyes kept skating over the page of her novel while she focused on the delightful sounds of pleasure Zoe was making just a few feet away. Finally she stopped pretending to read and openly watched Zoe shudder through an orgasm.

"Okay, that's it," Dana muttered, tossing her novel aside.

"What?" Zoe turned pleasure-glazed eyes on Dana.

"You're not the only one who's horny," Dana replied. "I gotta get me some of that." She dug her own toys out of a drawer, and soon was snuggled into her own bed with them. She exchanged excited, slightly sheepish grins with Zoe before they both turned their attention inward.

It wasn't as exciting as watching Zoe have sex, or even masturbating together on Zoe's bed, but it still aroused her greatly. Dana thoroughly enjoyed breaking in the toys Zoe had given her until finally, reluctantly putting them aside when she could take no more. Then she'd turned to meet Zoe's gaze, her face flushed and soft, eyes sleepy-looking.

"I really needed that," Zoe said. "Thanks for being a good sport."

"My pleasure," Dana replied, equally contented.

After that, it happened nearly every day, usually at bedtime, sometimes during a break from studying, always discreetly beneath cover. It helped to "take the edge off," as Zoe put it, but it was a poor substitute for actually getting fucked. It was nonetheless the best Dana and Zoe could manage.

As Dana had feared, none of her lovers—neither Randy, nor Dave, nor Bobby—were ever available when she was. When they weren't busy studying for their own exams, or taking them, their roommates were (quite reasonably, Dana grudgingly admitted) adamant about being able to use their own rooms instead of accommodating Dana's libido. Zoe had no better luck.

She did get to see Randy briefly after her last final. He texted her that Patrick was going to lunch, providing them a brief window of opportunity, but she hadn't looked at her phone until she was back in her dorm room. She'd practically run across campus after receiving it. She arrived breathless and practically dripping with arousal. It had been days.

With no idea how long Patrick would be absent, but knowing it wouldn't be long, Randy had kissed her with every bit as much need as she felt for him. He made quick work of pulling her jeans and panties to her ankles, then sat her on the edge of his desk, the better to kneel and eat her pussy.

His mouth brought her to a quick, sharp orgasm. Before she was able to catch her breath, Randy pulled her to her feet again, spun her around and bent her over the edge of the desk. Dana just had time to note that he'd thoughtfully cleared it of the usual clutter before he impaled her.

She sprawled on her elbows, hands flat on the desk, rocking against it as Randy fucked her hard and fast, giving her what she so desperately needed. She made no attempt to remain quiet, not this time. She came twice more, quite loudly, before Randy's hands tightened on her hips and he poured himself into her.

He leaned over to nibble at her ear until she shivered. "Damn, I needed that," he said breathlessly.

"You and me both, lover," Dana replied.

Fully dressed once more, and gleefully aware of Randy's cum seeping into her panties, Dana spent several minutes making out with him. She wanted nothing more at that moment than to drag him down on top of her in his bed, and he couldn't make it any clearer that he felt likewise.

But Patrick would be back at any moment—and Randy had his own exam to take that afternoon. Her car was already packed for the drive home. She wouldn't see him again for over a month, when the spring semester commenced in mid-January. Reluctantly, she kissed Randy goodbye, wished him luck on his final and left his room.

"Done so soon?" one of his neighbors asked as Dana passed his room. "Is Randy not taking proper care of you?"

Dana stopped and turned to look at him. "Why? Are you jealous?"

He was tall, though not as tall as Bobby, with the heavy build she imagined a football player would have. His hair was tousled. Not artfully, but as if he simply hadn't bothered to comb it. He could use a shave, too.

"You're damned right," he said. He looked Dana over with an avid expression that left no doubt in her mind what he'd like to do to her. She was glad she was in a public place. "I could make you scream, too, you know. If you're interested."

"I'm not," Dana said, and turned to go.

"What's he got that I haven't got?"

A couple of other students on the hall were paying attention now.

"A comb, for one thing," Dana said, emboldened by having an audience, and a little shocked by her coolness in the face of hostility. "And mad skills. He makes me come—a lot. You must know that. You've been listening."

His face darkened and he glanced at the bystanders. "Slut," he growled and retreated into his room. The door slammed.

Dana headed for the exit, her face warming now.

One of the bystanders raised a hand to his face as if he were making a phone call. "Operator, I'd like to report a murder...."

Another nodded at the closed door. "Ignore him. He's an asshole."

She nodded wordlessly as she passed, eager to leave the area. She met Patrick at the top of the stairs. He looked surprised for a moment, then just shook his head with a knowing look, and chuckled. "Merry Christmas, Dana," he said.

"Merry Christmas, Patrick."

* * *

Dana stopped by her room to clean up and change her panties for the long drive home. She was pleased to see that Zoe was wearing a soft white sweater, one of Dana's Christmas gifts to her. She could also see by the way Zoe's breasts shifted when she moved that Zoe was wearing only the sweater.

"It's so soft," Zoe said, noticing Dana's look. "It feels good against my skin."

"I'm glad you like it," Dana said.

"Very much. Thank you again," Zoe said. She stood while Dana collected her laptop and a few other last-minute items, then held out her arms. Dana stepped into them and hugged her. "Goodbye, Zoe. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Dana. Got your toys?"

"Don't leave home without 'em," Dana said. "I'm gonna be taking the edge off every day, I suspect. It's gonna be a long month."

"You'll manage, I'm sure," Zoe replied. "I'll see you January. You've got my address?"

Dana had carefully saved it on her phone. "Sure do. See you then!"

* * *

The drive home took four and a half hours, including a stop halfway to buy a soda at a fast food franchise and use their bathroom. It was dark before she reached home. Much of the drive was on interstates, but as she approached home, she turned onto state roads. Driving the winding, hilly roads of southern Virginia after dark felt like driving through a tunnel.

The forest grew right up to the edge of the road, and combined with the dark sky, left her able to see nothing more than the area illuminated by the headlights. That—and occasionally the reflective gleam of eyes on the roadside, low to the ground. No deer, fortunately. The last thing she needed was to hit one in the dark.

Closer to home the roadside farms, houses and businesses grew increasingly familiar. The last, winding climb through the hills brought her into town past the Baptist Church, and the Volunteer Fire Department's new building. She turned, crossing railroad tracks, and drove slowly down Main Street—such as it was. A single street lined with businesses, half of them shuttered; some out of business, others moved to the state by-pass road not far away. Telephone and light poles sported the same faded Christmas decorations she'd seen all her life.

Then she was driving downhill again, past a mill, a funeral home, and several residences before turning into the gravel drive of her parents' house.

Dana shut off the car and sat for a moment, glad to be done with the drive, taking a moment for herself before going inside. The house would be warm and clean and comfortable, but crowded and chaotic. Privacy would be hard to come by except at bedtime. She was already looking forward to that.

The porch light by the kitchen door came on.

Dana took a deep breath and let it out. Showtime.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Dana was never so glad to reach her destination as she was when she pulled into the drive at Zoe's place. The drive from home most of the way north was on highways and gave her no trouble. It was Sunday, the fifth of January, and traffic was light. Northern Virginia, aka the DC Metro Area, was another matter entirely. Signage along the roads and the assistance of the navigation app on her phone were of limited use.

She'd never tried to drive on such congested roads, or through an area as built up as she encountered today. She felt overwhelmed trying to keep track of where she was and where she was going while also watching multiple lanes of heavy traffic moving around her. It was exhausting, and she often missed exits or turns despite all the assistance.

The trip was at least an hour longer than it should have been just based on all the course corrections she had to make. She grew tired of hearing her phone announce that it was recalculating her route. By the time she reached a residential neighborhood that looked right—and which her navigation app told her was less than a mile from her destination—Dana was tired, cranky, and badly needed to pee.

It was a huge relief to park her car and turn off the engine.

The house was huge; three full stories, though the lowest level was below grade, a two-car garage at the bottom of a sloping drive. The house was brick and clapboard construction. To the left of the drive a brick staircase led up to the front door. To the right of the garage, a narrow stone walkway ran along the side of the house, presumably into the back yard. Dana unbuckled her seat belt and climbed stiffly out of the car.

"Dana! You made it!"

Dana looked up to see Zoe wave from the open front door before she hurried down the stairs, smiling. She wore jeans and a bright Christmas-themed sweater. Dana felt her dark mood lift at the sight. She met Zoe at the bottom of the stairs with a hug.

"There were times I wasn't so sure I'd ever find the place," Dana said.

"I can imagine," Zoe said, still hugging her.

"And I really, really need to pee," Dana whispered.

Zoe laughed and let her go. "Come on, then," she said. "We'll get your stuff out of the car later."

She led Dana up the stairs into the foyer, and showed her the door to a powder room. "Take your time," Zoe said.

When Dana reappeared five minutes later, she felt fit for human company again. Zoe led her into a large family room where three people were watching a black and white movie on a huge flat screen television. The older woman paused the movie and they all rose to greet her. They all wore brightly colored sweaters with a Christmas theme that matched the one Zoe wore.

Zoe made introductions.

Her mother, Mary, was a woman in her forties, tanned and athletic looking, with green eyes and blonde hair. Her resemblance to Zoe was remarkable, except that Mary was a tall woman, nearly six feet.

"Welcome to Arlington, Dana. I'm glad you could make it," Mrs. Harrison said, giving Dana a hug.

"Thank you, Mrs. Harrison," Dana said. "You have a lovely home."

"Please, call me Mary," she said.

"Thank you...Mary," Dana said, feeling awkward about using her given name.

"The brat is Julie," Zoe said. Julie gave Zoe a mock scowl. She was fifteen, Dana learned, as tall as Zoe and Dana, with brown eyes and long brown hair.

Julie waved in greeting. "Hey."

"And this is my youngest older brother, Kevin," Zoe said. He was twenty-one, almost as tall as his mother, with green eyes but short curly brown hair, and broad-shouldered. He had a nice smile. Dana wondered what he'd look like out of his clothes, and then looked away, embarrassed by her thoughts. It really had been a long month.

"Pleased to meet you, Dana," he said. "So you're Zoe's partner in crime?"

Dana glanced at him again, hoping her thoughts hadn't been visible on her face. "Maybe? What has she been telling you?"

"Nothing incriminating," Zoe said. "Just that we're thick as thieves."

"Well, that's true," Dana admitted. Watching Zoe have sex, and masturbating together weren't typical roommate activities.

"Oh," Mrs. Harrison said, "I almost forgot. I have something for you, Dana." She walked over to the sofa and produced a folded sweater. Dana could see from the riot of colors that it was another of the Christmas-themed sweaters the Harrison family were all wearing. She offered it to Dana.

"Thank you," Dana said. "You didn't have to do that." The demurral came automatically, but she unbuttoned her coat and slipped it off. Zoe took it and left the room. Dana pulled the sweater on over her blouse. It was thick and soft and felt expensive, and Dana was touched by the gift. Wearing one of the holiday sweaters made her feel like part of the family.

"Looks good on you," Kevin observed. "Now you fit right in."

Dana smiled back at him. "Thanks."

When Zoe returned from the foyer, Mrs. Harrison spoke up. "Kevin, would you please help Dana and Zoe bring her things in from the car? Zoe, Melanie and Clark are coming to visit. Let me know if they need to get a hotel?"

"Sure, mom," Zoe said. She herded Dana and Kevin toward the door.

Bringing her things in from the car, it turned out, meant carrying them into the garage and using an elevator that deposited them on the third floor. Dana had never seen an elevator in a private residence before. "It's awfully convenient," Kevin agreed. "Especially when you need to move furniture."

The third floor was entirely given over to bedrooms aside from a laundry room. Dana had never seen that either, but a laundry room on the same floor where people lived instead of in a basement made a lot of sense to her. A closed pair of double doors led to the master bedroom, Zoe told her.

Kevin pointed out the door to his room as they passed it, and then they arrived in Zoe's room. Kevin placed Dana's bags on the floor and departed.

Zoe's room was large, bright, and full of what looked to Dana like expensive furniture, but felt comfortably lived-in all the same. Dana recognized Zoe's hand in the selection of books and videos that filled a bookcase. Rugs covered much of the hardwood floor. Two double-doored closets filled one wall. The wall opposite them was dominated by a huge bed below the windows looking out over the front lawn.

"Is that a king-size bed?" Dana asked, certain that it was and envious of the luxury of it. She slept on a full bed at home, not that much bigger than the twin bed she used at school; a bed this size would leave no room for anything else. She imagined how much more comfortable she'd be sharing a bed this size with Randy. Or Dave. Or Bobby. Or—oh god, the thought aroused her—all of them at once.

"Yup," Zoe said. "I know what you're thinking, and yes, there's plenty of room there for...friends."

The old Dana would have blushed to have her thoughts discerned so accurately. Dana just grinned. "And have you? Had several friends in it?"

Zoe sat on the edge of the bed, running a hand across the comforter. "Not all at once," she admitted, adding with a lecherous grin, "but hopes springs eternal."

Dana laughed and sat down on it as well. "It does." She glanced through an open door. "So, a shared bathroom, huh?"

Zoe nodded. "It's a guest room, though, so I don't often have to share."

That brought up a question Dana had. "What did your mother mean about Melanie and Clark maybe needing a hotel?"

"Oh, that," Zoe said. "That was my mom subtly asking if we were lovers."

"What?" Dana's question came out rather louder and shriller than she'd intended. "Why does she—what makes her think that?"

Zoe laid a hand on Dana's. "Nothing," she said gently. "Nothing makes her think that. It was a question."

Dana looked at Zoe's hand on hers, feeling her pulse pounding. She slowed her breathing, trying to relax. Her reaction had caught her off guard, surprising her as much as it appeared to have surprised Zoe.

"My mom doesn't know whether we're lovers or not," Zoe explained, gauging Dana's reaction carefully. "And she's not going to assume anything one way or the other. So she asked."

Dana nodded, encouraging Zoe to continue.

"We only have the one guest room," Zoe said. "If we're lovers, then you'd share my bed, and Melanie and Clark could stay in there. If not, presumably you'd take the guest room. In which case, Melanie and Clark get a hotel room."

Dana's face warmed. She felt silly for reacting so strongly to an innocent question, now that Zoe had explained it. She didn't want to dwell on that, though, so she asked a question of her own. "Presumably?"

"We don't have to be lovers to share my bed," Zoe said. "I've had my share of sleepovers with friends."

"Right," Dana said. She glanced through the bath to the guest room. She didn't really want to sleep alone in that big, impersonal room, in a strange house. She'd come to visit Zoe, after all. They'd had plenty of bedtime conversations in the dark, albeit in separate beds, at school. Her bed was plenty big enough to share.

"Well, I don't want to put Melanie and Clark out," she said. It was true enough; she'd feel selfish if they had to stay in a hotel instead of the family home because of Dana. But that wasn't the real reason, and she knew it. She wanted to stay with Zoe, and share that huge bed with her. "I'll stay with you, if that's okay."

"Of course it is," Zoe said. "It's settled. I'll let mom know Melanie can stay here."

She paused to give Dana an assessing glance. "And just so you know, she won't jump to any conclusions based on you sharing my bed," she said. "In case you were worried about that."

"I'm not...." Dana said, but the denial died on her lips. It was a lie. She did care whether Mrs. Harrison thought she was Zoe's lover. Not because she thought Mrs. Harrison would judge her for it. The only person who would think badly of her for it...was herself.

That surprised her, and angered her. She'd rejected all that nonsense. She had. Even as a child, she'd seen flaws in the stories she'd been told in Sunday School, in the parables and sermons she'd heard in church, inconsistencies or fallacies she couldn't ignore—even as she kept her mouth shut, knowing that voicing her true opinions on the subject would only lead to trouble.

She'd remained virgin as long as she had not out of any belief in the importance of remaining "pure" until marriage. No, she'd been restrained only by a lack of suitors and her own entirely practical concerns about being found out if she dared to violate that taboo. God might not care, assuming he existed, but her parents, her peers, too many neighbors most certainly would have, and would have condemned her for it.