Higher Education Ch. 18

Jess shrugged. "I'm twenty-two years old and still in undergrad. I don't want a relationship right now, but that may change. Everyone has different preferences and wants. Even amongst sluts and studs. Honestly, I'm not surprised Chloe and DeShawn look like they're pairing up. They're both kind of romantics."

Hannah arched her eyebrow at that, remembering the savage but delightful fucking she had received from DeShawn's monster cock the previous night.

Jess laughed. "Oh, DeShawn is still going to fuck every white slut he can! And Chloe is a total whore! They're not going to be exclusive or anything, but yea, I see them ending up as more than fuck buddies."

"I see..." Hannah said, tapping her fingers against the table. "What about Professor Suffolk and her husband?"

"They're so cute together" Jess gushed. "Total odd couple. He's a total dork, she's a gorgeous bombshell. She's a literary scholar, he's a math prodigy. But they're both totally in love with each other. They're also two of the most brilliant, kind, and generous people you could hope to meet!"

"And Professor Suffolk...the husband...[Hannah couldn't yet bring herself to call a faculty member by their first name] doesn't get bothered by his wife's activities...or want to join in?"

Jess sighed. "Sex and love-they go together, but they're not the exact same thing. The Suffolks love each other for their minds, for their companionship...they always seem to crack each other up with these silly jokes no one else gets. But as much as I like Jerry, I don't think he can deliver mind-blowing orgasms, and Tracy is one hot slut...she needs all the mind-blowing orgasms she can get. From what Tracy tells me, they still do it, but Jerry is happy with whatever sex life he has and doesn't seem to care if Tracy needs to step outside the marriage to take care of her needs. He just wants her to be happy."

"Unlike Archibald..." Hannah said quietly.

Hannah made an unpleasant face at the mention of the man's name. "Archibald Pentworth is a fucking asshole!" She spat the words out, before her lips curled into a smile. "His wife and daughters, however, are lovely people. Turning all of them into nasty little whores has been great fun! Valerie insists there's a decent man there, his ego just needs to be taken down a few notches." She shrugged. "We'll see."

"Hold up!" Hannah cut Jessica off before she could say anything else. "Daughters? I met Maura and Helen this morning...Valerie mentioned another daughter...have you?"

Jessica's smile grew wider. "Not yet. But stay tuned! Maybe you'll get to help...wouldn't that be fun?!"

Hannah couldn't help but smile and give an enthusiastic smile, as she felt her pussy begin to moisten at the thought of breaking a new slut herself!

Jessica glanced down at her phone. "It's time to get you home! Poor Charlotte is probably wearing holes in the rug, pacing back and forth, worrying about you! And I think the boys are going to deliver your new stuff soon...imagine Charlotte answering the door, all by herself, to a bunch of giant black delivery men!"

Hannah gulped at the thought. Of course, Mandy would have a crew of black men to run deliveries for her...but given the tiny garments, was a crew of giants really necessary? She also wasn't really looking forward to seeing Charlotte. She was sure she was in for an earful. She didn't want to lie to Charlotte, but she also didn't want to terrify the girl or drive her away. She took in a breath of air, as if to give herself strength, and reminder herself that whatever Charlotte's misguided views about the world, she thought she was acting in Hannah's best interests. Perhaps Charlotte's views needed a realignment...

******

Hannah turned the key to her dorm suite and entered, flinching with the expectation of finding an angry Charlotte on the other side. Jess slid in behind her, ready to offer whatever support her friend needed.

Hannah's expectations were not let down. Charlotte sat at the table of the suite's common room, staring at her laptop. Dark circles around her eyes suggested she had little, if any, sleep the previous night.

"HANNAH!!" Her voice cracked with a mix of anger and concern. "What happened? Where were you all night! I was up all night worrying about you! You've never stayed out like this before!" The anger broke and became overtaken by concern. "Are you okay???"

Hannah glanced down, sighed and placed her thumb and index finger on the bridge of her nose as she tried to think of a response to the barrage of questions. She strained to keep her response and tone calm.

"We spoke on the phone last night Charlotte. You know what I was doing. I think you heard it quite well. I'm good, more than good. I got to meet a lot of good people last night and make a lot of good friends. They took...very good care of me." Her eyes shot up and she gave Charlotte a crooked smile. "You should come through sometime!"

"I'm not here to party with...degenerates!" Charlotte spat out the last word and glared at Jess. Jess raised her hands in a "what, who me?" gesture and she smiled at Charlotte innocently.

"When we talked last night...you sounded like you were on drugs! And...dancing with boys? Do you know what could happen!? And...I had to call you so many times...and you just came home and its almost noon..." Charlotte's words came out in an increasingly incoherent ramble.

"Ten...nine...eight..." Hannah began to count backwards in an effort to calm herself, to keep herself from saying anything untoward to her increasingly frantic and emotional roommate and friend.

"Charlotte, I appreciate that you're concerned about me. But we're both adults. I'm a big girl. I assure you; I can handle big things [she smirked oddly at Jessica with this statement]. There's nothing wrong with making new friends and getting out of your bubble. Isn't that how we became friends? Would you have ever talked to someone like me before we went to college? I don't know if I'd have become friends with someone like you before college, and I'm glad that I did. Jessica is helping me make new friends, and so far, everyone I've met has been..." she paused to think of the right word. "Lovely!"

Charlotte didn't speak for a while but paced back and forth quickly and intensely as if trying to think of a response. Suddenly, she stopped and stared at Hannah intensely. Her eyes widened as if she was surprised to see her for the first time.

"What...what are you wearing?" she asked, oddly quietly.

Hannah glanced down. "Oh! I uhhhh...needed to change my clothes...and...I borrowed this from someone. It's cute, right!?" She did a little twirly to display the ensemble, and she did, the skirt lifted a bit and Charlotte saw that Hannah's ass was nearly entire exposed, covered only by a tiny thong barely more substantial than dental floss.

"Cute!?" Charlotte's face turned red contorted into an expression of outrage.

"Yea!" Hannah responded brightly. "I think I'm going to try to find more like it!"

For a split second, an image of Charlotte's lips, painted bright red, wrapped around a massive black cock flashed into her mind. She shook her head to clear the image from her mind. That wasn't a useful thought right now!

"YOU LOOK LIKE A HARLOT!" Charlotte spat out the words, and immediately regretted it. She clapped her hand over mouth and her eyes grew wide.

The religiously tinged slur, which emphasized traditional morality and gender roles, would undoubtedly send her liberal roommate into a fury. Charlotte had never intended to escalate their spat into fight. She hadn't wanted to insult Hannah personally. She was just worried about her because she cared about her, and her emotions had gotten the better of look. She meekly looked at Hannah, bracing for an outpouring of anger from the girl.

Hannah didn't look angry. She looked...amused. She exchanged a knowing glance with Jessica and folded her arms under her breasts, and looked at Charlotte silently, as if waiting for Charlotte to go on.

"I'm...I'm sorry." Charlotte said, almost in a whisper. "I shouldn't have said that. It's just...look...let's talk later. I need to go!" Charlotte stomped out of the suite, slamming the door behind her.

"Are you okay, sweetie?" Jess asked, placing a hand on Hannah's shoulder. Hannah looked back and smiled.

"I'm fine...she just...doesn't understand the world yet. It's not her fault. I'll talk to her more when she's calmed down." She smiled thoughtfully. "I don't know if I'd be so calm about this before last night. I guess I learned I was wrong about a lot of things, too. And...well it's easier to take things in stride when you've had more than two feet of black cock stuffed inside you at the same time!"

Jess returned Hannah's smile. "See, there's a lot more plusses to being a slut than the mind-blowing orgasms. Confidence, calm, empathy..."

Hannah nodded in agreement. "The mind-blowing orgasms are pretty great though!"

The two girls broke into laughter, before a more serious look fell across Jessica's face. "Hey...after the guys come, you want to go the library?"

"Is that some sort of metaphor for another sex thing?" Hannah asked.

Jess giggled. "No, silly! We've spent all morning messing around. I don't want to fall behind on work. We're sluts, not bimbos!"

A thoughtful look crossed Hannah's face. "Sluts, not bimbos?" She liked the sound of that.

********************

The door slammed behind Charlotte, and she stormed down the hall. She wasn't angry, not really. But...what was going on with Hannah? For her to stay out all night and come back midday with that Jessica girl...and that outfit!! And why the heck did the two respond so calmly--even humorously--to that horrible insult she had flung at Hannah. Charlotte needed to clear her head.

As she made her way down the hall she came across, a group of five men, all huge, all black, carrying an assortment of bags and boxes and walking in the opposite direction. She gulped with fear. Was this some gang coming to steal? But then, what would a bunch of college students have. A dorm was a pretty bad target for a burglary operation. And it was the middle of the day. No, the thought didn't make any sense. Charlotte chided herself, realizing that her conservative Southern upbringings had caused her to think the worst.

Still, these men looked intimidating, if only from their sheer size! And Charlotte couldn't help but shake the words of her father, who often made contorted statements in attempts to present a socially acceptable version of the viewpoint that black men were criminals and thugs. If Charlotte were honest with herself, she'd probably cross the street to avoid passing too close to this bunch. But in the narrow hallway of the dorm, she didn't have a choice.

Her heart began to race as the group grew closer, and she felt herself begin to tremble. "Get it together, Charlotte!" She thought to herself. "What's going to happen in a dorm, in the middle of the day!"

Despite her internal admonishments, when their paths converged, Charlotte felt almost like she would pass out with fear. At the very least, she knew, she would be cat-called, and in her emotional state, she wasn't sure how she'd handle that.

Before long, Charlotte's path converged with the group. She gulped, expecting to be on the receiving end of lewd and crude statements.

The men moved to the side of the hallway, to make sure that she had plenty of room to path. "Good morning! How do you do? Beautiful day, outside, right?" The men nodded their heads politely and made friendly, benign statements as Charlotte passed.

Charlotte shook her head and blushed as her heart rate normalized, embarrassed at her own reaction. Deep down, she knew that she needed to get over at least some parts of her conservative worldview.

Charlotte exited the dorm hall but wasn't sure where to go or what to do with herself. She found a quiet bench and pulled out her phone and dialed her mother. Perhaps she'd have some advice.

"Hey sis!" the voice that answered the phone was not her mother's.

"Hi Emma," Charlotte sighed. "You know it's not polite to pick up other people's phones."

"She's doing laundry." Emma said, rolling her eyes but not wanting to let her annoyance creep into her voice. Charlotte already sounded upset,

Emma was eighteen, a senior in high school. She shared Charlotte's facial structure and raven black hair, but otherwise looked quite different. She wore her hair shorter, letting it fall down to her shoulders. Much to her father's chagrin, she often wore modest amounts of makeup and had her ears pierced. Whereas Charlotte was busty, Emma had medium size breasts and a generally smaller build. Whereas Charlotte was pale and had bright blue eyes, Emma had a darker, more olive skin tone and deep brown eyes.

Their appearances weren't the only things that set them apart. Although an excellent student, she tended to buck against her father's strictures, wearing trendier and revealing clothing (which would still be tame by the standards of a secular college campus), listening to pop and even rap music. She even hung out with classmates who didn't go to church! Whereas Charlotte largely accepted her father's wisdom, Emma often questioned his commandments. As she grew older, her independence became more pronounced, and she clashed with her father more and more often. Charlotte had a kind heart, but unfortunately her father's impositions of his belief system caused the older sister to conflate virtue with obedience. Charlotte could be bossy and opinionated with people she cared about but was otherwise reserved. Emma, on the other hand, was far more open. Although she too believed it was important to be a good person, she saw that there were many different paths to being good. Although she chose a pretty conservative lifestyle for herself, different choices and lifestyles from other people didn't bother her--at least, the different choices and lifestyles she'd seen in their small, Alabama hometown.

Emma thought Charlotte's annoyance at her picking up the phone was a prime example of one of her older sister's chief character flaws. Emma saw that Charlotte was calling on the caller ID; her mother was busy and away from the phone; and it wasn't a big deal.

For her part, Charlotte loved her younger sister. She admired her spark of independent thinking and courage. In her more honest moments, she admitted to herself that she envied them. But she also feared that the independence she so admired could lead Emma down a path of sin and rebellion. She dearly hoped that Emma would follow in her footsteps join her at the same university. The academic excellence of the institution would allow Emma to develop her fine young mind, and Charlotte's guidance would keep her on the path of virtue. But right now, she really wanted to speak to her mother.

Emma came across her mother, lower body sticking out of a dryer as she loaded it with wet clothes. "Hey mom..." she said. "I've got Charlotte on the phone. Sounds like she's freaking out about something again."

Monica Lumiere let out a deep sigh as she pulled herself to her feet and reached for the phone. Monica had dark brown hair--lighter than either of her daughters--which she wore just past her shoulders, of a similar length but less trendy style than Emma. She had passed her curvy build, pale skin, and piercing blue eyes onto her older daughter. Emma sometimes wondered if, given her unusual views and physical differences in between her mother and sister, if she had been adopted.

But Emma and Monica had more in common than the eighteen year old believed. Growing up, Monica had a fierce independent streak. In college, she was a wild woman, and her early university days were marked by drugs, late night parties, and alcohol. Concerned that their only daughter would bring scandal upon the family, her parents insisted that she met Thomas Lumiere, an unmarried scion of another wealthy Southern family who was more ten years her senior. Monica resisted at first, but in time found his commitment to the faith of her childhood endearing. And he had shown her a kindness and respect she hadn't seen from the frat boys she parties with in school. Once they started spending time together, Monica's grades improved and she came to appreciate waking up in the morning without a hangover, and a man who seemed to value her beyond her considerable sexual attractiveness. While still in college, the pair married, and before long Charlotte and then Emma came along. Now the mother to two young daughters and still a college student, Monica completely gave up any part of the party lifestyle. She didn't think she'd have finished college if not for Thomas' support, and she felt incredibly grateful to him.

When Monica told Thomas she was pregnant with Charlotte, the two agreed that their children would be raised with a strict, formal structure. From their earliest days, everything would be designed to give them a godly lifestyle to keep them from falling down the path that Thomas had saved Monica from. Monica's early college days demonstrated a weakness, which Thomas explained was typical in women, which mean that he would have the final say in what the couple's children wore, read, and ultimately believed.

In recent months Monica had begun to question the wisdom of these decisions. Charlotte was a smart, successful young woman whose achievements filled her heart with pride. But she was strident in her beliefs, and Monica wasn't certain whether she'd be able to thrive outside the bubble of their small, Southern town. She wanted Charlotte to avoid her own mistakes, but she also wanted her to have as many options as possible. And Monica saw that the intensity of Charlotte's beliefs sometimes impaired her ability to get along with others. She had met her daughter's roommate, Hannah, in person when they moved into the dorms and spoken to her several times on Zoom calls. She thought the relationship between the two was a wonderful thing. Hannah was a quiet, sweet girl from Minnesota, Jewish and liberal. Monica hoped that forming a friendship with someone who shared the virtues of intelligence, kindness, responsibility and chastity but who came from a different background and had different beliefs would open Charlotte's mind.

Monica feared that Thomas' parenting strategies would have a different effect on Emma. Emma had all of Charlotte's intelligence and drive, but also wanted to take the world on through her own terms. In many respects, Monica was proud that Emma was more open to others, and more driven to figure things out for herself. But Monica couldn't forget her younger days, and the potential consequences she had narrowly avoided. Monica was worldly enough to know that Emma's current rebellious streak was actually quite mild. The occasional mild swear, a hemline slightly above the knee, a few centimeters of midriff or cleavage...there were not the things that made a scandal. But Emma was going off to college soon. Monica didn't want to keep Emma from achieving her full potential and insist that she only attend some small, private, conservative school that would carefully monitor her activities, but she worried what would happen to Emma in a more libertine environment.

In an act of defiance against her husband's theocratic dictates, she had made sure both her daughters were on birth control. Emma readily agreed. She understood that sex should be only two, loving people in a committed relationship and that sleeping around wasn't for her, but if she met the right person, she didn't want to risk a pregnancy too early. Charlotte initially balked at the idea. But, since she knew there was no possibility that she would have sex until marriage, she figured there was no harm in going along with her mother's request and acquiesced.