Peer Pressure - Melissa

The familiar wetness was answer enough for Melissa. Amy, now sitting on the edge of the bed, motioned to her and Melissa squatted over the device, lowering herself down slowly onto the dildo. Aided by the copious artificial and natural lubricants, it slid inside her until the coed was sitting easily astride the saddle.

Amy warned, "You may want to brace yourself on the bed," then began the demonstration by turning the juice on, very slowly. At first, Melissa felt hardly anything. Big deal, she thought, like the first time I had sex. What's all the fuss about? Then Amy turned up the power, and the sensations hit her.

Melissa was on a roller coaster, going up slowly, coming down at dizzying speed. She passed the point of no return. Orgasms were bursting forth, crashing against each other. She lost track of time, space, the fact that Amy was watching her. There was just that unstoppable human-thing inside her relentlessly pushing her further and further.

The teen bucked and moaned, moving up and down, a slave to lust. When Amy finally turned the machine off, Melissa was drenched in sweat and deliriously satisfied. It was all she could do, legs trembling with weakness, to roll onto her back on the floor. "Why did you turn it off so soon?" Melissa breathed.

Laughing delightedly, Amy replied, "What do you mean, *soon*? It's been twenty minutes and I swear you've been coming continuously for nineteen of them. God, I couldn't stand watching you any longer! I think I need a ride myself."

Leaning forward, she stripped the slimy condom from the dildo and replaced it with a new one, which was soon lubricated. While Melissa lay on the floor in contentment watching, Amy reached up under her dress and pulled down her drenched pantyhose and underwear, then wriggled onto the dildo until it was firmly in place.

Urgently, Amy requested, "Please, Lissa, work the controls for me." Melissa rolled up into a sitting position and examined the remote, which consisted of two dials with indicator lights. The lights, labeled "vibration" and "rotation," illuminated when she turned the dials slightly and a low hum came from the unit beneath Amy.

Melissa began gradually increasing the intensity of both the vibration and the rotation. Amy's face began to contort -- first with mild pleasure, then growing sensual excitement, and eventually with complete abandon. Her litany of moans and screams, her nails digging into the bedspread, gave ample evidence that she was in the throes of extreme orgasmic excitation. At one point Melissa thought her sister-in-law was going to faint. "Oh, God, oh no, oh yes, don't stop, harder, faster, oh wonderful," Amy intoned again and again.

Melissa was intensely aroused by the sight of Amy writhing and begging for more, and toyed with the settings, enjoying the feeling of power it gave her. Eventually it became obvious that Amy could go on coming forever and Melissa turned the machine off. Amy continued to shudder from head to toe for several moments before rising shakily to her feet. "Oooh, you're a cruel woman, Lissa, teasing me like that. But it certainly takes the edge off a bad day, doesn't it?"

+++

A bad day, Melissa later decided, that was the beginning of a bad week. Wendy was surprisingly difficult to track down, and it wasn't until the following weekend that Melissa finally reached her on the phone -- at Lisa's house. Melissa thought her friend sounded strangely breathless as Wendy made some incomprehensible explanation about school projects and Melissa needing time with her family.

A few days later, Melissa was visiting John and Amy. When Amy happened to mention in passing that she'd seen Wendy at Michelle's Thursday night and Wendy had purchased some lingerie and a vibrator, Melissa suspected the worst. She'd been abandoned by her best friend, who was now associating with a different group, and worse, lying about it. Melissa was heartbroken, although she did her best to conceal it. Now she could only long for a return to school, and Jacqui.

Chapter 17

The day of Melissa's departure finally arrived. The freshman battled with mixed emotions on the ride into the airport. She was sorry to be leaving her family again, glad to be able to forget the previous day's strained farewell to Wendy, and eager to return to Sullivan College. She'd gotten Amy to take her to a salon for an overdue waxing and perm; Melissa had been almost as nervous as the girl at the studio, who evidently didn't get many such requests.

Now the young brunette squirmed in the back seat of her parent's car, her moist cunt sticking to the tiny panties pressed against it by the tight jeans she wore. Melissa hoped Jacqui would punish her for wearing them; just the thought was enough to make her continue to cream. The half bra under her Christmas sweater left her stiff nipples free to rub against the inner nub of the woolen garment, contributing to her constant arousal. Soon, only a few hours more, and she would be free to satisfy her kinky cravings.

+++

The flight had been dull, with no opportunity to repeat the adventures of her homeward trip. Melissa was glad to escape the plane and strode quickly down the boarding ramp to the concourse and looked about, hoping to spot Jacqui. So intently was she looking for the easily recognizable junior that Melissa didn't notice Pamela Atwood until the blonde was right under her nose and shouted, "Lissa! Welcome back!"

Melissa smiled back and hugged her friend. If Jacqui couldn't be here, Pam was the next best person. The two chatted happily while they waited for Melissa's suitcase to arrive on the baggage carousel, and then Pam proudly led the way to the blue Chevette she now owned. "All my family chipped in to help me buy it," the perky frosh explained. But she was evasive when Melissa asked if Jacqui was back from vacation yet.

The reason for Pamela's reticence became clear when Melissa opened the door to her room. It seemed empty -- nearly all of Jacqui's things were missing! Melissa collapsed into the nearby desk chair in disbelief and looked at Pam numbly; this couldn't be happening to her.

"I hate to be the one to tell you, Lissa, but Jacqui won't be back this semester," Pam said quietly as she entered and closed the door. "Her father and one of his friends raped her during vacation. I've heard she's in some kind of psychological counseling or something."

Melissa merely stared blankly at the wall while tears started to run down her cheeks.

Pam offered, "I'm really sorry, I know you two were very close. I... I don't think I could do... well, you know... But I don't want you to think you're alone." She paused, evidently trying to assess Melissa's condition. "And Jacqui said you should try calling her after dinner." It was amazing what the right words could do.

+++

Melissa was able to reach Jacqui on the phone that night. She learned the junior's situation was more serious than Pam had indicated. Jacqui's father and his friend were already behind bars again but there was some question about whether Jacqui had been a willing accomplice and if she would be tried. And she'd been pulled out of school for a program of psychological counseling. "Although," Jacqui joked, "it's more fulfilling talking to you about it. Now tell me about your vacation, Lissa."

The brunette complied, glad to fully share her experiences with someone else. Both women were masturbating by the time Melissa finished her tale, and the frosh eagerly fingered herself to orgasm when Jacqui ordered her to. She promised to follow Jacqui's standing instructions and they agreed to meet when it was possible for them to do so.

Still revisiting the twists of the last few hours in her mind, Melissa turned out the lights and climbed into bed. The bed she'd hoped to be sharing with Jacqui was now hers alone. She was almost asleep before she realized she hadn't met her new suitemates. Well, they could wait for tomorrow.

+++

Melissa met the first of her suitemates the next morning. Predictably, it was in the bathroom. She'd arisen at the usual time for her shower and barged into the bathroom while still half asleep, only to surprise the equally naked young man who was using the toilet. Her sense of modesty subdued by the familiar surroundings and the early hour, Melissa made no effort to cover herself as she slowly came to the realization this must be one of her new neighbors.

He, in contrast, went through an amazing series of contortions. Finally overcome by his simultaneous attempts to gawk at Melissa, *not* look at her, cover himself, and maintain his aim on the toilet bowl, he managed a strangled "*Please!*" that brought her to her senses.

Now embarrassed, she backed out into her room and closed the door. Then it was time to find her bathrobe. "Great first impression," Melissa muttered to herself. "I'm sure that went over real well." She plopped on the bed and waited for some indication it was safe to proceed.

A soft knock sounded on the door a minute later. "Come in," she called, and checked the robe again. It was a little late to worry about offending the guy's sensibilities, but there was no sense making matters worse. The door swung open and he stepped in, now also decently hidden beneath a robe of his own.

"Uh, hi. Sorry about our little, ah, incident," he began uncertainly. "I really thought I'd locked the door."

"No, it's my fault. The lock doesn't work and I never thought to worry about using the bathroom before." Melissa refrained from mentioning *why *the lock was broken. She and Jacqui had repaired it only enough to pass visual inspection after last semester's demolition effort.

She took a better look at him in the pause that followed. No athlete, but not unpleasant to look at, she decided. He was taller than herself, lanky, not carrying any extra weight. His tousled hair, an unremarkable brown, was rebelling against what must have been a hasty attempt to arrange it. Melissa's eyes slid sideways to the mirror over the sink beside him and confirmed her own curls were in even worse shape.

Why did she have to meet him looking like this? Frustrated, Melissa knew Jacqui or Janet wouldn't have had a problem smoothing things over. It was so stupid! Before, she wouldn't have worried what anyone thought of her looks. Now, this man had just seen her naked and she was worrying about her hair?

His voice broke into her thoughts. "Ah, look, I've gotta run for class. Maybe we can talk again later?" He was making a nervous retreat even as she nodded her agreement.

"Dummy," Melissa berated herself, "you didn't even ask him his name." Sighing, she dove into her morning routine; she needed a run before facing her own classes.

+++

It turned out her suitemate's name was Richard Nelson. Melissa learned it courtesy of the role call in her new CS course. She was intrigued to see him there, as it implied Rich was also a computer science major, and had enough placement credits to skip the prerequisite courses.

Melissa worked up the courage to go next door and talk to Rich that evening. It was easy enough to pretend he was just another stud Jacqui wanted her to fuck. She went so far as to consider actually doing just that, but finally decided it would be unwise. After all, she didn't know how he'd react, and they would be stuck together for the rest of the semester.

She settled for another stilted conversation that served to establish bathroom protocols and convey brief biographies. When Melissa asked, Rich confirmed he had a roommate -- "technically" was the word he used. Rich said the grapevine reported Ray Guck, the sophomore in question, planned to live in his girlfriend's room elsewhere on campus. Melissa could guess from Rich's behavior that the grapevine had plenty to report on herself, as well.

Following that meeting, they rarely talked to each other outside of her CS class. Actually, they rarely *saw* each other outside of class.

+++

Melissa's sense of isolation strengthened following a phone call from Jacqui at the end of January. Jacqui had escaped prosecution, but her parents had elected to transfer her to a private school that specialized in assisting students who had been abused. The regular calls, and accompanying masturbation to Jacqui's orders, were ended.

As well, Melissa abandoned her periodic calls to Todd. Nobody had any news of either Janet or Anne, and she found the calls, and their associated memories, too depressing.

Nearly the only routines Melissa continued from her first semester were the morning jogs with Pam, still dressed to kill, and the regular visits to Sara for waxing, styling, and oral sex. Minus Jacqui's largess, regular shopping binges were out of the question, although Melissa picked up some jeans and casual slacks.

Without Jacqui's intercession, Melissa didn't know how to arrange the daily fuck sessions, and they had lapsed. She let Darryl fuck her once in the locker room, but fear of discovery and its consequences outweighed the excitement; she had no trouble winning the standing $50 bet. Recalling Jacqui's final advice, she turned down an invitation to a varsity basketball squad party.

She was similarly uncertain of "entertaining" in the dorm room. Rich was in his room so much of the time, what if he should hear something? Moreover, her underlying shyness prevented her from seeking out partners, and her reputation dissuaded prospective suitors.

Melissa found the extra time on her hands a burden. She busied herself with classwork, including tutoring, and started working as a consultant at the computer center to occupy her hours. At least the work generated a few dollars for her checking account. But overall, the new semester had not been a happy one for the brunette.

Her weekends remained empty; frequently her entertainment consisted of eavesdropping on the activities next door. Rich and a small circle of friends typically gathered in his room on Saturday nights for obscure role-playing games.

They were polite enough to her on campus, but she'd heard some of them good-naturedly ribbing him. Sharing a private suite with the "Slut of Sullivan," as they put it. Rich's continued protestations that such thoughts never entered his mind had little impact.

Sometimes Melissa would drift to sleep, listening to the low conversation and bursts of laughter from next door, and wonder if they would be as forward in her presence as when they believed themselves alone.

Chapter 18

By mid-February Melissa was sure she was going to go crazy. Matters came to a head the Saturday after Valentine's Day. She was sitting at the desk, attempting to work on a history paper that wasn't even due for a week yet, but her attention kept drifting to the game in progress next door.

They might call it "Dungeons and Dragons" but Melissa was sure "Booty and Babes" would have been a better name. Apparently the evening's adventure was set in a brothel somewhere and the characters were running amok as usual. She twitched restlessly in her chair, thinking she'd give those guys something to explore if *she'd* been in that situation...

There was no way she was going to remain cooped up in the room all night, Melissa abruptly decided. Just because she'd turned down the invitation for that evening's basketball team get-together didn't mean she couldn't crash it. A good fuck, or hopefully more than one, was just what she needed. Besides, Darryl would be there.

She got excited just thinking about it. First she'd need to get cleaned up. For the first time that year, the enema equipment was retrieved from under the sink. Melissa stripped, then stroked herself impatiently while she waited for the bag to fill. The horny coed moaned with pleasure as she inserted the lubricated nozzle into herself and allowed the warm liquid to begin filling her.

Several pints later, Melissa felt comfortably full. She paced the room, adding extra sway to her hips to increase the arousing pressure on her sphincter, and pondered her wardrobe. When she noticed she was unconsciously plucking her nipples, Melissa's mind flashed back to her first outing with Jacqui; she knew she'd wear the peasant top again. And there was a black leather mini she'd found in her dresser that Jacqui must have purchased.

Collecting her robe and a disposable douche, the brunette headed for the bathroom. She started the shower, hoping it would cover the noise of her activities, then moved to the toilet. Melissa teased herself with the applicator, rubbing it along her slick lips, probing gently and retreating, until her breath came in quick gasps. A nipple was teased again, more urgently this time. She visualized an imaginary cock that forced its way into and released its seed in time with the spray of the douche.

The sensation pushed Melissa over the edge and she fought back the exclamation that accompanied her release. At the same time the cleansing liquids gushed from both her holes into the toilet bowl. Fear that the gamers on the other side of the door might hear her only strengthened the experience. The warmth of the shower that followed totally relaxed her.

Melissa, remembering the Halloween party, dressed strictly for convenience. She laughed to herself, realizing it had taken less time than one of her old tomboy outfits would have. The top was worn off her shoulders, low, and without benefit of a bra. It looked great with the short miniskirt, which was just long enough to be decent. That was just as well, because Melissa didn't want to sacrifice a pair of panties to the occasion. Her legs, tanned and sleek, didn't need hose. A pair of plain pumps had just enough heel for show, but were reasonably comfortable and could be kicked off easily.

She thought about earrings, and settled on the studs; no sense wearing something that might get tangled up tonight. Besides, she didn't want to look like a total slut. Melissa's only other ornamentation was her locket, beautifully framed upon the wide expanse of skin above her cleavage. The coed gathered keys, ID and some cash into a small pocketbook, and she was off.

Why, Melissa wondered, had she waited so long to do this?

+++

The party was in full swing by the time Melissa reached "Hell Suite." Beckman Hall was one of the newer dorms, and featured several sets of rooms connected by semi-private hallways that opened onto lounges. The inebriated crowd overflowed out into the open areas adjoining the fabled nerve center of campus party life. Powered speakers nearly as tall as she was blasted music down the hallway.

Melissa worked her way through the other students, looking for a friendly face. Finally she located Kevin Anderson, although she had to survive a deadly glare from Susan Mustacato to approach within speaking range.

"Kevin, hi! Have you seen Darryl tonight?"

"Lissa, you're looking good tonight. Glad you could make it." Kevin paused momentarily as Susan's knuckles whitened on his arm. "I think I saw Darryl back in Wayne's room. Look, we've gotta run. See you later!"

She silently watched the couple depart. You'd think Susan could lighten up, Melissa thought. Kevin's gonna have bruises tomorrow. Did she find out about last semester?

A few minutes later she'd visited the ad-hoc bar and navigated to the end of the hall. Melissa wrinkled her nose at the faint hint of reefer, and peered into the crowded room. She didn't see Darryl among the bodies.

"Well, well. Lissa Bednar. I'll bet you 50 bucks you can have more fun than I can."

The coed turned at the familiar challenge. She recognized the student facing her, but couldn't remember his name. Not that it really mattered; they both knew what she wanted.

"You're on. Where can--"

He pressed her firmly against the wall, driving the breath from her lungs, and ran two fingers up into her juicing slit. "Hell, let's do it right here!" His mouth covered her own and smothered her protest.