Options Ch. 03

Sandwiched between two beautiful young women, knowing she was making them cum on either end of her body, toppled her over the edge and into the abyss. Stacy arced off the bed again. Her body trembled, shuddered then quaked as her climax built to a fever pitch in moments. She wanted to scream, but her mouth was full of Barbara. She wanted to do something, anything, but all she could do was ride out the exquisite electricity that jolted through her. One hand squeezed Barb's ass so hard that she yelped. The other clawed and shoved a blonde head into Stacy's thrusting, convulsing crotch.

Shelly sucked and tongued in rhythm with her own cum, pushing Stacy a bit further into pleasure. Shelly reached up and toyed with the exquisite brown nipples' the tingle raced through Stacy's tummy and sparkled in her clit. Her orgasm hovered on a delicious plateau that she never wanted to leave.

Eventually, though, her climax subsided, ebbed and passed. Barb slipped from Stacy's sore mouth and collapsed onto the bed. Shelly planted the softest kisses all over ticklish, quivering thighs. Stacy's limpid dark eyes gazed at Barb then lidded in fleeting contentment.

God, that was amazing! But, I'd love something thick and deep waaay up inside me. Mmm, I wonder if they might have some toys stashed somewhere . . . .

She stirred and awoke very much alone. One hand was between her legs and the sheets clung wet and cool against her flexing hips and ass. She held the other palm to her mouth. Her scent and flavor clung thickly to it, and she realized she had been licking her own juices from her fingers. She noticed her fingertips were a little "pruney" and her jaw ached a tiny bit.

Her body buzzed, vibrated, and left no doubt that she had cum. She did not know how many times—it must have been several from the state of the sheets. The dream may have gotten her off, but she knew she was not satisfied. Not yet.

She hoped they would end up just like in that dream; with faces buried in pussies, not in textbooks. She sighed, smiled, closed her eyes, and let her mind and hands wander . . . .

* * * * * * *

Wednesday, two days after the invitation in the library, she saw Shelly in Organic Chemistry. Stacy arrived late and chose to sit in the back row, close to the double doors, several seats from her nearest neighbor. Shelly sat to her left, ten or twelve rows closer to the front, and did not notice Stacy.

She tried to concentrate on the lecture but ended up staring and fantasizing on more than one occasion. Stacy's legs crossed of their own will and she found herself slipping ever nearer to climax. Her swinging calf allowed her arousal-slickened hood to stroke its swelling clitoris. She wished Shelly's face was firmly between her legs providing her with hours of exquisite pleasure. She imagined Shelly dragging her pert, taut nipples back and forth over Stacy's glistening tip until it pushed her to multiple orgasms. She ached to splash Shelly's firm breasts and hard nipples with steamy jets of girl cum.

Her body tensed and she tumbled into her release. It happened so quickly that it surprised her. Stacy managed to stifle a squeal but her gasps would betray her to anyone within earshot. The climax shoved aside her embarrassment and she abandoned herself to it, knowing no one was close enough to see or hear. Her eyelids fluttered closed, her abdomen spasmed, her lungs labored, and there was a roaring in her ears. Finally, her breathing slowed and she could hear the Professor lecturing again.

That's when she also heard a soft chuckle just behind her right shoulder. While she was not embarrassed, nottooembarrassed, she was not about to turn around, either.

A perky whisper tickled her ear. "The blonde, right?"

She turned her head only enough to catch a peripheral glimpse, but said nothing. Whoever sat behind her now leaned over the seat back. Stacy could feel someone very close to her shoulder—someone who smelled like jasmine and coffee, with a hint of aroused female.Or is that me?she wondered.

"She's hot! I've done the same thing once or twice this semester, too." The stranger's quiet admission tickled in Stacy's ear, while its echo tickled her libido.

At last Stacy felt compelled to turn around and found herself looking into sharp gray eyes. She noticed the defined cheek bones and the adorable honey-brown curls that bordered the girl's face. Her mouth was wide and at that moment an enigmatic half-smile graced the thin lips.

The lecture ended. The noise level jumped as the crowd began filing out of the auditorium.

"I've wondered about you two," she whispered. Stacy thought for an instant that the girl knew, that the whole college knew, about her making love with Shelly.

"Now I guess I know about you, at least. I'm right, huh, baby?" She winked.

It fell into place for Stacy as she realized the girl referred to sexual preference. She let out her breath in relief. She felt fine about being gay, but did not want anyone to scrutinize her choice of lovers.Some things should just remain private,Stacy thought.

"I'm Hailey." She handed Stacy a small piece of folded paper and flashed a dazzling smile. "I've, um, 'done' you a couple o' times, too. Well," the grin widened, "Like, six, maybe. We should totally grab some java together sometime."

The smile offered little, but her affect hinted—promised?—so much more. Stacy sat mesmerized.

"You're . . .?"

Stacy took of firm hand out of reflex. At last she found her voice through the mental fog.

"Stacy."

"Nice to finally get to meet you in the flesh. Stacy."

Stacy's hand tingled, and she felt a noticeable spark when their hands parted. Hailey rose but took her time leaving the auditorium. Whether Stacy was supposed to stare at Hailey's swaying hips and rounded bottom or not, she did. Hailey looked over her shoulder, smiled when she confirmed Stacy's eyes were on her ass, and said, "Bye, gorgeous."

Stacy smiled ever so slightly and gave a limp wave. While she was flattered by the offer, and by being the object of an attractive lady's fantasies, she already had Barbara as the target ofherlust.

She scanned the number, smiled again, and dropped it into the hallway rubbish can.

* * * * * * *

The week passed so slowly that Stacy thought Friday would never arrive. The past several days had been a kaleidoscope of thoughts and feelings. Sometimes she became giddy, and other times she felt confused. Was it a study date, or more than that? And what the hell was that longing, that hollow mood that left her wanting . . .something. . . she could not quite name?

Suddenly it was almost seven and her worry shifted from what "it" was to being late for "it." The butterflies in her tummy had not settled. Now she was sure an entire flock, or herd, or whatever the hell you called a huge batch of the little darlin's, filled her abdomen. She was so nervous, and cumming twice in the shower did nothing to dull her edginess.

She pulled her iridescent black hair into a thick ponytail that hung almost to her waist. She wore her signature sweat pants and a plain gray sweatshirt over a sheer white bra. After rifling through her entire undies drawer, still wrestling with the uncertainty of whether this was an actual study session or a transparent excuse, she let her dream be her inspiration and skipped panties altogether. If she guessed wrong, no one would know. But if she guessed correctly, well, the mere thought made her wriggle and smile.

Stacy donned a pair of black flip-flops with little rhinestones on the straps, gathered her books and walked down the hall. Her hand trembled as she knocked.

The door swung wide. "Hi, Stace," Shelly beamed. She leaned forward and air-kissed the girl's cheeks then stood aside to let her into the room.

"Thanks. All y'all're so kind to, like, invite me ovah. Hey, Barb."

"Stacy!" Barbara bubbled. Wearing an apron that read, "Kiss the Cook," she walked over and gave their guest a hug. The aroma of cinnamon and vanilla surrounded them. Their hips touched as Barb's lips brushed Stacy's ear.

"Glad you could make it," she whispered. Barbara pulled away. "Why don't you two sit and I'll bring some snacks, okay?"

"Oh, y'all don' hafta go to all that trouble—"

"No worries. I've really wanted to try out some stuff."

"Okay," the Southerner murmured.

"You can use Barb's desk," Shelly offered with a sweep of her hand.

"Thanks." Stacy dropped her books and settled into the seat. She wondered if Shelly had ever eaten Barb's dripping pussy in this chair. She sighed, subdued the thought and slipped her feet from the flip-flops.

Shelly sat and wheeled herself closer. She flipped open her text and began, "So I missed the lecture where Anderson talked about 'oligonucleotide synthesis,' and now I'm kinda lost on the stuff that comes after."

So, thisisa study session,Stacy thought. She took a breath. "Well, when Professor Anderson covered this it was sort o' like hard to follow. But I found a great site that explained it. You have a computer up?"

"Mine's been acting weird. Babs, is yours up?

"Oooh, yeaaah!"

"Yourcomputer?"

She glanced over her shoulder with an innocent expression, said, "Uh huh," and went back to the microwave. "Shell, can you help Stacy get it online?"

"Oooh, yeaaah." Shelly mimicked. She grinned, winked at Stacy and awakened her roommate's computer. A bell chimed in the background.

"Nachos, 'kay?" Barb asked. She looked natural and happy as she played hostess.

"Um, yeah," Stacy answered, as confused as ever. The bustle in the small room kept her off balance.

Barbara set a wide plate of blue corn chips piled with chopped tomatoes, diced celery, three different beans and grated cheese on a small table between the desks. There was a bowl of salsa, three glasses, and several paper napkins with Technicolor parrots on them.

"You want a beer or some wine, Stacy?" Barb asked.

The girl was lost in another fantasy. The hostess wore nothing but the apron. Stacy got to snack on her sugary lips while gripping her naked ass. "Huh?"

"What would you like to drink? Beer? Red wine?"

"Oh, um, I'm only, like, twenty."

"Oh," Barbara's face fell.

"You have any diet soda?"

"Yeah," she brightened. "Coke Zero or diet ginger ale. Or orange juice?"

"Ginger ale'll be good." She wanted a lime, but felt too shy to ask.

"Okay," Shelly was saying, "just let me get logged—oops. Babs!"

"What?"

Stacy glanced at the screen. The wallpaper was a shot of Shelly kneeling on the bed. Tousled hair covered one eye and her flushed face wore a sultry, post-coital expression. The sheet pulled up over her body left most of her legs and one breast exposed. Her delicate pink nipple stood erect. The tip of the left forefinger was clamped between her teeth. Stacy, who fancied herself a connoisseur of erotic imagery, found it very artistic—and hauntingly sexy.

Shelly minimized the screen, but when she tried to sign onto the Internet it popped back up again.

"Shit, Babs, you . . . Oh, crap, Stacy, don't look!" Shelly turned the computer away from their guest and grinned as her face turned beet red.

"What?" Barbara demanded.

"What? Yourwallpaper, that's what. How embarrassing!"

"Here you go." Barb set a glass of pale sparkling gold in front of Stacy. Two lime wedges floated on top, tiny sloops on a shimmering sea.

She asked Stacy in a hushed voice, "Did you see it?"

The girl nodded.

"Gawd, shehot," Barb sighed. Stacy nodded again, but she felt the twinge beneath her sternum. Her brow furrowed as she lifted the glass and took the sip her arid mouth needed so.

Stacy noticed Barbara's hair had indeed lightened, and it shown with a subtle reddish tint. Barb leaned close to her ear once more. Stacy caught the scent of cinnamon and vanilla again as her hostess whispered, "If you aren't hungry, or don't want to study, it's okay with us."

Before she could reply, Barb's tongue traced the rim of Stacy's ear. She shivered so badly that she almost spilled her drink. Her head spun as a warm hand reach beneath her ponytail and cupped behind her neck. Knowledgeable fingertips stroked a very sensitive spot on the girl's nape. She turned, still trembling.

"Wouldn't you rather . . .?" Shelly was so close, holding Stacy's head. Then Shelly's lips were on her. Stacy whimpered and she fell into the kiss. Barbara took the glass so Stacy's hand could caress Shelly's skin.

"Mmm!" Shelly reacted.

"Is her hand cold, Shell?" Barb inquired, amused.

"Mm, hmm. Mmm." Shelly refused to pull away, and Barbara doubted Stacy would let her. Watching her lover making out with a smokin' hottie was melting Barb inside. Seeing the blonde's nipples harden when Stacy's cool fingers found Shelly's bare skin was pretty exciting, too. Barbara sat on her bed to enjoy the sight. She wiggled her hips to get comfortable and thrilled at the friction of the sheets against her panty-clad slit.

"You two are sooo beautiful!"

The kiss ebbed and flowed as the women teased and explored. Shelly's expert tongue tasted of white wine and she knew just how to use it to excite the coed. Barb caressed her own throat as she watched her lover's hand trace the outline of Stacy's jaw, trail down and slip inside the edge of the sweatshirt. Shelly slid it over one shoulder. Stacy pulled away, breathing hard.

They looked at each other for a breathless moment before she raised her arms. Shelly smiled and lifted the shirt over Stacy's head.

"Holy crap," Barb exclaimed as she stared at Stacy's sculpted breasts. The shear bra did nothing to hide the small brown areolas or the two captivating, stiffened nipples. "Gawd, Stace, you're fuckin' gorgeous!"

"Y'all stop. Ah'm, like,blushin' heah." She crossed her arms in front of herself but the movement left one nipple exposed. The press of her forearms lifted her breast and made them appear larger and more inviting. Barbara licked her lips, surprised at how dry they had become. She could not look away, nor did she want to.

"Really, Stacy, you hide that hot bod of yours in those big sweatshirts," Shelly told her. "I wish my tits were half this good," she said as her hand cupped one warm mound. "Damn," the blonde sighed, "I'd have 'em out, like,allthe time." Shelly traced the curve along the edge of the bra where Stacy's breast met her ribs. Goosebumps erupted in the wake of Shelly's touch.

"Mmm," the girl sighed. She filled her hand with one of Shelly's breasts and said, "Y'all have perfect tits, baby."

Shelly smiled and leaned forward to lick and nibble through the sheer fabric. In return, Stacy stroked the blonde hair and her warm curves. Barb began to caress her own breasts. She had never seen anything so erotic as her lover giving oral to the pretty girl, especially someone with such great boobs!

Shelly lifter her head and gazed at Stacy. "I knew you'd wanna be with us."

"O' course," she whispered in answer. She enjoyed her delicious, growing arousal, as well as Shelly's hard nipple that dug into her palm. "All y'all are sooo hot!" She shifted and her legs opened a bit.

Barb followed the movement and caught sight of their guest's crotch. A tiny dark spot had appeared on the front of the sweatpants. Shelly suckled the other breast for a few glorious minutes while Stacy let her hand explore. Barbara stared as Stacy's intimate secret became more and more obvious. She salivated in anticipation and pinched her upper lip between her teeth and tongue. Her hunger grew.

Shelly pulled her mouth away with some effort. "ItoldBabs." She turned to her roommate. "Remember, Babs? The night we had 'the birthday dessert'?" She rested her head on Stacy's chest while her fingers traced and stroked an erect nipple through the damp brassiere.

"Dessert?" Stacy wanted to hear more. Electric pulses coursed through her body where the deft fingers toyed—there, and lower. Her touch mirrored Shelly's.

"Shelly, not now," Barbara warned.

Stacy heard the tone. The blonde breezed right past it.

"Well, the night we went out. You know, when Babs kissed you in the hallway?"

"Uh, huh," Stacy answered in her soft voice, the hint of a smile on her lips as she remembered the taste of Barb's mouth. The nipple play kept her mind and body craving more stimulation, but it clouded her judgment.

"Shelly—"

"Babs!"

Barbara sat up and looked at her lover. "Now'snota good time for this."

"Aw, c'mon. Let a l'il ole Southern girl in on the big ole secret." But the moment Stacy saw Barb's expression she wanted to stop, too. "Or . . . not . . .?"

"We just had smokin' hot cybersex with this suh-weet black chick, that's all!"

"Shit, Shell, I don'tbelieveyou said that. Stace—"

Stacy bolted upright, practically throwing Shelly off of her and onto the bed. She saw Barb react and pushed an angry palm towards her then reached for the sweatshirt.

"What? Stace, are you leaving?" Shelly's surprise was genuine.

"Yeah! Thanks fo' the evenin'." The words sounded more like a "fuck you," than a "thank you." She stood and looked around for her books.

"Stacy?" Barbara caressed the girl's arm but Stacy jerked herself from the contact.

"Stace, hey, I—"

She whipped around and demanded, "You what, Shelly?"

Shelly had never heard Stacy's voice hold such a hard edge. That and the girl's angry glare were intimidating. But Shelly's need to explain took over and she said, "Hey, look, I'm sorry. But when you and I, um . . . you know, well, you seemed to like the idea of a threesome."

"So, what? All y'all had yo'selves a little 'soul food,' and now you're, like, tryin' some 'Chinese takeout'?" Stacy turned her fury on the top as she tugged it over her head and shot her arms though the sleeves.

"Ahm jus' another menu item, huh? Jus' some fuck fetish? Fuh-kit—I'm outta heah!"

Without bothering pull her hair out of the sweatshirt, she scooped up her books and turned for the door. She could not find her flip-flops, and her anger intensified.

"Stacy?"

Something in Barbara's voice made her pause. But she did not turn to face either of them.

"Please, Stacy, please stay and, well, let's just, like, talk. Please?"

They watched her back as Stacy took a deep breath. Barbara thought that maybe—

The girl shook her head, yanked the doorknob and disappeared barefoot down the hallway.

Shelly stared at the door as it swung shut. Then she looked at Barb.

"What the fuck?"

"What thefuckyourself, Shelly! That was fuckingrude."

"But—"

"But, what? I can't believe you did that.Fuck!"

Another first for Shelly. She was usually the one to lose her temper. She had never seen Barbara so angry.

"Babs, I—"

"No, Shelly. I don't wanna hear it. Notnow! Clean up. I'm going out."

"What?"

"I said, 'I'm going out'."

"Where—"

Barb interrupted, "I don't know where I'm going. And before you ask, I don't know when I'll be back. I just know I don't want to be aroundyouright now." Barb grabbed her backpack.

For the second time in as many minutes Shelly watched, incredulous, as a woman stormed out of the room.

"Well-what-theee-fuck?

* * * * * * *

Stacy spent a good part of the next hour in tears. Her conflicted emotions swung back and forth until her mind became a maelstrom.

What the fuck was Shelly thinking? And why did I get so angry? Did I overreact? Is there something wrong with me? Am I mad because I wasn't their first threesome? Am I mad at Shelly for telling, or at Barb for . . . for "cheating" . . . on me? Does it just piss me off that I missed out on some "smokin' hot cybersex"? Hailey practically called me a "sex object" and I liked that—why not this? It was just gonna be sex, right, and probably great sex, too? What's wrong with me? Am I jealous of Shelly? Is it infatuation with Barb—or am I falling for her? Why don't I have someone? What-the-fuck-is-wrong-with-me?