Dogpile

She looked away for a moment, clearly torn, then turned back. "What is it you like about me, figuratively speaking?"

I grinned, thinking back to where this conversation had gone before. "I like that you're smart." She scoffed and I flicked her thigh. "Knock it off. You're in college, doing well -- that makes you smart.

"You're also kind, and for some strange reason, you seem to get me."

"You mean the trauma part?"

I nodded. "And the rest. I think it's possible that Michelle and I could be friends, and maybe Courtney, but you and I were there almost from the start."

"You mean that?"

I nodded again.

She was thoughtful for several minutes, and seeing this, I got up to start tidying up the apartment, beginning with the dishes -- I didn't ever want to have to do a top to bottom cleaning again.

"Tell me about Michelle and Courtney," Stacy said as I was finishing.

"I don't know them very well, but they're a bit like you: smart, sweet, good looking. More self confident, though."

Stacy folded her arms and looked at me, challenge clear in her eyes. "How good looking?"

"Very," I answered as I turned to dry the last plate. "Beautiful faces, gorgeous curves." I turned back around and was surprised to see Stacy looking like she was going to cry. "What's wrong?"

She shook her head and refused to answer, so I replayed what I had just said in my mind, then nodded.

"Okay, Stacy, two things. First, I won't lie to you. I don't lie to anyone. Michelle and Courtney are stunningly pretty, which you'll see when you meet them, so there's no point in me misleading you. Second, it doesn't matter, because you're my girlfriend, not them, and besides, they're into each other. Does that make it better?"

Sniffing, Stacy managed a smile. "A little, I guess." She laughed self-consciously. "And you're okay with them meeting me?"

"I don't even understand the thought behind that question," I replied. "Of course I am. And, while we're talking about them, they'd like to meet up here on Friday night again, but I wanted to talk with you first. If you want to stay over, that wouldn't work so well."

There was a long pause before Stacy finally asked me to explain to her again why two beautiful lovers wanted to have sex on my bed. I explained that they probably wanted to have sex anywhere they could, then elaborated with the more relevant details, and we eventually came to an understanding.

"So that's why you were at the bar last weekend."

"Yep."

"Do you go out often?"

"Nope. That was the first time. I have my own rum and Coke, so it's easier to just stay in. And less expensive."

She took a deep breath and laughed to herself. "Things tend to be pretty black and white with you, don't they?"

I shrugged. "I prefer the term discrete, but yes, black and white would work. Or one and zero."

Stacy paused. "Was that programmer humor?"

"It was -- not very good, huh?"

"Terrible."

"It always is," I replied seriously with a sad nod. "Anyway," I continued, perking up, "do you want to let Michelle and Courtney fuck on my bed?"

"It's your bed," she answered, entirely avoiding the question.

"Okay, let me rephrase. Do you want me to let Michelle and Courtney fuck on my bed?"

"I... don't know. I don't really, but I feel guilty, like I'm being selfish, because of course you should help out your friends."

My face scrunched up and I considered the issue. "Friends is a little too strong at this point. I think friendly acquaintances is more apt."

"Andy."

"Yes?"

"You're deflecting."

"And you're not answering my question," I responded, assuming what I hoped was my smug pose.

"Fine, they can stay over, but you're going to make it up to me."

"Wait," I replied, suddenly confused. "It's your choice, so why do I have to make it up to you?"

"Shut up, Andy," she replied as she walked over to my bed, shedding clothes along the way. "Do you want to eat me out or not?"

"I definitely, definitely want to eat you out," I answered, following in her footprints.

I put to use every tip and trick I'd stored up from myriad internet experts, teachers, and pornstars, and I got her very excited, but like the previous attempt, couldn't get her to the summit. For more than two hours I teased and tickled and caressed, using my lips and tongue and fingers, but it wasn't to be and I finally tapped, needing a drink to re-hydrate my desperately dry mouth and throat.

"I'm sorry," I offered, holding out a second cup to my new girlfriend. When she didn't respond I had a long moment of panic, certain that my failure had offended her and that I'd fucked up the only romantic relationship I was ever likely to have. Then I realized she'd just fallen asleep and I let out a long, shaky, very relieved breath. Setting down the water on my desk, I moved to get myself washed up for bed, trying to shake off the lingering anxiety.

As I was brushing my teeth, slender arms wrapped around my midsection, squeezing tightly. "That was amazing."

I almost choked on the toothpaste in my mouth and ended up sputtering and spitting into the sink. With still watery eyes I turned to Stacy, who was looking at me with more affection than I'd ever felt from someone, despite my near death experience with mint flavored gel.

"Amazing," she repeated, her smile getting wider.

"But you didn't come," I stated, or maybe asked.

The response to my questment was a disbelieving laugh from deep in her belly that took at least a minute to pass and ended with her leaning against the bathroom wall. "You dope," she said once she could breathe again, taking my hand and leading back to the bed. Where she had laid had an enormous wet spot, easily two feet across. I stared at it mutely, understanding, but also not.

"I --"

"Am amazing," she finished. "Dozens, Andy -- I had dozens of orgasms -- little ones, big ones -- I can't believe you didn't know. Everything from my belly button down is still tingling."

Nodding automatically, my mouth opened and closed a couple times, but I didn't manage any sort of salient response. Eventually, my mind turned to the practical. "I guess we should put a towel down next time."

"Actually," Stacy said, her voice turning her version of sultry, "I kind of like it. I know it's your bed, but it feels like... an accomplishment." She pulled on the hand she was still holding, then pushed me gently so I sat, my rear landing at the bottom of the spot. She blushed, then looked me in the eyes from less than a foot away, her eyes intense. "It really turns me on." Bending, she inhaled deeply, then took hold of my cock and started stroking, then licking, then sucking.

In a surprisingly short amount of time Stacy's technique went from amateurish to proficient to, "Holy shit, I'm coming!"

Struggling to stay coherent after she pulled my soul out through my penis was difficult, but I managed, enough to drag her upward and away from the wet patch. I gave her a deep kiss, which had a little different flavor, then tweaked her nipple, earning a startled hiss that might have been the sexiest thing in my life up to that point. "Oh, Fuck," she breathed, then shuddered, then she looked down at me with an intensity that honestly scared me. Without a word, she bent down and licked me from balls to tip, then settled on top, spreading her pussy lips so her clit was in direct contact.

She fucked me without fucking me, and did it hard, driving down onto my lengthening cock while my still addled brain tried to catch up. After a minute or so her breath hitched, so I reached up and pinched her nipple again, just hard enough so that her back and forth motion wouldn't pull it loose from my grip. My attention earned another hiss, so I took hold of the other one as well, then started gradually pulling them away from her chest.

The noise she made wasn't human, and I knew that her orgasm was well past big as she clenched and pushed down hard enough that I worried for my cock's safety, then abruptly forgot it all as her cum flowed out of her pussy, across my belly and down my hips, coating everything as her gutteral moan continued.

She finally stopped, slapped my hands away from her tits, and flopped onto the bed face down.

"Are you okay?" I asked, feeling genuinely concerned.

"Jeee-susss Chrissst," she whispered hoarsely as she turned to face me, her eyes closed tight.

Not sure what to do, I wrapped myself around her as best I could and closed my eyes, trying to ignore my once-again-hard and mercifully uninjured penis.

----- ----- -----

"So the two of you are together?"

I shrugged and nodded while Stacy pulled herself more closely into my side, her hands squeezing my upper arm.

"I'm happy for you," Michelle said, pulling both Stacy and I into an awkward three-way hug while Courtney looked on skeptically. Seeing her girlfriend's face, Michelle rolled her eyes. "Don't mind her, she just thought we'd have some alone time."

"Hey, that's not it at all. Well... that's not all of it."

"It's fine," I replied, squeezing Stacy's hand in a way that I hoped was reassuring. "We're going out for a while, at least..."

"Three hours?" Michelle suggested hopefully. I nodded and my high school acquaintance shared a look with Courtney that made me feel warm, like I had done something right in a social setting for once. It also made my cock jump, but I ignored that for the moment.

Stacy and I were soon walking, hands clasped, in the cold evening air. Unlike the other times we'd spent together, we didn't talk.

I don't know if it was a comfortable silence, because that idea never made sense to me, but I do know I wasn't sure what to say about the situation we'd just left. So I enjoyed the walk for what it was, content to be with a friend.

"You weren't exaggerating about their curves," Stacy finally offered.

I thought for a moment, then took a breath to respond, but she squeezed my hand. "You don't actually have to say anything. In fact, it's probably better if you don't."

Nodding sagely, I squeezed her hand back, happy for her help in avoiding a misstep. "Duly noted."

"What do you think they're doing right now?"

I stopped and looked down at her, not sure if the question was as rhetorical as her statement had been. "Fucking?" I finally asked, guessing and hoping -- goping (actually, no, that's terrible, nobody should ever use that) -- that she wanted me to say something.

The look she gave me made it clear I'd said something wrong, but it wasn't what I thought. "Of course they're fucking, Andy, but, like... how?"

"Is there anything I can say here that doesn't end badly?"

"Actually, no. Well done," Stacy praised with a smile. We started walking again.

It had probably been another ten minutes when she stopped abruptly. "Did you ever play FMK?"

"No," I replied flatly, but she didn't seem to notice my lack of enthusiasm. The whole idea was asinine, and I told her so.

"But what if you had to for some reason."

"Nobody cares what I think about celebrities."

"Not celebrities, you dope -- Courtney and Michelle... and me."

As you've realized by now, interpersonal interactions are not high on my list of strengths, but even I figured out immediately that this was even more loaded with pitfalls than the last question. "I reject the premise outright."

"Andy," she admonished, but I stood my ground. I think I even let go of her hand and folded my arms.

"No, it's stupid. I would never kill anyone, and I don't have a clue what being married is like."

"Okay, fine, but who would you fuck?"

Flashing lights and wailing sirens -- Danger Danger Danger

"You?" I goped. (goddam stupid brain)

"Very convincing," she stated unconvincingly.

"Stacy, just tell me what you want me to say and I'll say it. Or tell me what you want me to do, and unless it's actually kill or marry someone, I'll do it."

She made it about ten seconds before her lip twitched, then she was grinning, albeit a bit sheepishly. "It's hard not to be jealous."

I let out a relieved sigh and pulled her close. "I can't believe you're here with me -- it's like a dream come true. You don't need to be jealous. As for Michelle and Courtney, they're in another league altogether -- not even the same sport."

"Wait," Stacy said, pushing away and looking up at me. "Are you saying they're better than me?" Danger Danger Danger

"That is not at all what I'm saying," I backpedaled rapidly, trying to replay what I had said, but finding it difficult to think straight with the death glare from my maybe-ex-girlfriend boring a hole through my skull. "It's just that they're... unattainable."

"And I'm not?" Stacy's eyes narrowed and I was fairly sure she was going to grab-twist-pull my balls off.

Then, like a bright star breaking through an overcast sky, a moment of insight: "They're lesbians," I said as placatingly as I could manage, hoping that would be the skeleton key to unlock my current prison.

A few seconds passed and Stacy straightened. "Oh. I guess that makes sense. I... sorry."

I nodded, trying to hide my relief, then stopped. "Listen, Stacy, I really like you, but I can't deal with drama. I'm no good at it and I don't need it in my life. I'll tell them they can't come over any more, okay?"

"Really?"

I nodded. "We'll do it right now. It will be awkward, but it will only last a minute or two, then I can show you just how much I want to fuck you."

"You're going to fuck me?" she asked in a small voice.

"Really, really hard."

There was a strange pause while she stared up at me. "And... I'll like that -- the fucking me really hard part?"

I nodded. "I have no idea."

"Maybe we should start slow."

Still nodding. "Okay."

Another pause.

"Did you learn that from porn?"

"Yes, there has been much porn." I looked away, out over the Quad. "Too much, perhaps."

She punched me in the side.

Smiling, I pulled her close. "Don't be jealous. You're the one I would choose."

Stacy smiled back. "You're going to show me?"

"I'm going to show you so hard."

"But not too hard," she shot back, still grinning.

"The perfect amount of hardness."

"Like this?" she asked as she grabbed my cock, which was indeed hard, but neither of us could feel much with her wearing mittens.

"Stupid mittens."

I earned a giggle, then she was pulling me back to my room.

As we walked toward the building, anxiety began to build, which was unusual, because I usually don't care what other people think about me. Now, however, there were two pseudo-friends in my room that I didn't want to disappoint. I lost myself following that thought and was standing at my door before I'd had time to reason it through. The only thing I had reconciled was that I was going to disappoint someone.

I stuck with my choice and knocked on the door -- it was more of a tap, really. Stacy gave me a fairly unimpressed look. "If you tell me we have to come back later, I'm going to kick you in the shin." I knocked harder. After waiting a minute or so, I knocked properly.

My neighbor opened her door and looked out, then her eyebrow quirked. "Again?"

"Uh... I guess so."

"Do you need something?"

Shaking my head, I shrugged. "No, I just... let some friends borrow my room."

She looked to Stacy, then back to me, folding her arms and looking smug. "And now you need it back."

"Who are you again?" Stacy snapped, not at all impressed with the implication from the newcomer (even though the newcomer was one hundred percent correct).

Rather than answering, my neighbor smirked and closed her door. My girlfriend was not amused and spun on me, demanding an explanation.

"She's my neighbor."

"But who is she?" Stacy demanded.

I shrugged again and shook my head. "No idea."

This derailed whatever train Stacy's mind had been riding. "Wait, you've lived here all year and you don't know anything about her --"

I waited several seconds before responding. "Was that a statement or a question?"

Stacy managed to pull off the most impressive eye roll I've ever seen. "So she was just... giving you a hard time?"

I held out my hands, palms up, the picture of a clueless man.

"Andy, I can't tell if you're really as --"

The door opened and a mildly disheveled Courtney peeked out through he crack, a sheet pulled tight against her chest; her eyes went wide. "Shit -- it can't have been three hours already -- can it?"

I shook my head apologetically. "Sorry, we needed to come back. We can give you time to get, uh, dressed or whatever."

Courtney looked to Stacy and back to me -- just like my neighbor had done -- she didn't appear to be nearly as amused and I suddenly remembered that the beautiful blonde had the skills to bypass whatever IT security protocols were currently protecting my permanent academic records.

The door shut and it wasn't five minutes before my former friends made their exit. Courtney didn't quite storm out, but she also didn't acknowledge Stacy or me. Michelle made a point of giving me a hug and saying 'Thanks,' but it felt every bit as awkward as I had expected.

We found everything as we left it except for the bed, which had been stripped -- the sheets were roughly folded and topped with a note.

Call me this week so we can talk -- Courtney

When Stacy saw that Courtney had included her number, she went into a bit of a tirade, inadvertently teaching me several words I had not previously encountered. I tried to calm her down as best I could, but it was more than ten minutes before she finally cooled off enough to be rational. Even so, she was still angry and still saying unflattering things about both of the women we had just evicted.

My friends, I realized, or at least a reasonable facsimile thereof.

"Stacy, I think it's best if we just go to bed. I'm not really in the mood anymore."

The resulting secondary tirade was directed at me, but since I don't do drama, it burned itself out rather quickly -- I honestly don't even remember what she said. I do remember walking her to the door and the look of surprise when she realized I wasn't going to ask her to stay. Worse was when I told her we would be better as friends -- "just friends." The name she called me, and more importantly the volume at which it was said, probably woke up half the hallway.

As my ex stormed away, my neighbor peeked out again. "That wasn't because of me, was it?" She looked genuinely sorry; I shook my head.

"I'm not very good with people."

"What did you say to her?" she asked with a curious tilt of her head.

"Actually, it's what she said to me."

We stood there in the hallway for almost half an hour as I recounted my evening. I couldn't tell you why, except that Ashley -- that's my neighbor's name, by the way -- offered a sympathetic ear, which is what I apparently needed.

----- ----- -----

Considering our last interaction, Courtney was surprisingly kind when we met for lunch the following week. Like Ashley, she listened, then gave me her point of view.

I'd figured out the main part -- jealousy as a form of control -- but it was still hard to hear, especially about a girl I had connected to so quickly, and it was difficult to reconcile the picture of perky, spunky, sassy Stacy with manipulative and spiteful Stacy. At least it had only been a brief fling, so said Courtney. I shrugged and took a sip of my Code Red, figuring things would just go back to normal.

"I am sorry, Andy."

"About Stacy?"

"Hell no -- she can go fuck herself.

"I meant I'm sorry that we took advantage of you." She shook her head in what looked to be frustration. "It wasn't fair to kick you out of your own room, and I really feel terrible about it. Stacy wasn't the right girl for you and I'm glad she's out of your life, but I'm still sorry we put you into such a bad situation. We won't do it again."