Roads Less Traveled

"But they're right. "Carrie sighed. "I am an Ice Queen."

Maureen made a small denying noise in her throat, pushing her roommate back onto her little twin bed. The towel came undone easily and Carrie didn't move to cover herself as Maureen stretched out beside her.

"They're blind." Maureen's mouth covered Carrie's nipple, sucking hard. Oh god, that was good. They'd been very drunk and horny and had been up practically all night talking about sex the first time they'd done anything like this together their freshman year, but it was something they fell into easily now, without even thinking.

"Look how hard your nipples get." Maureen tugged gently at the other one between thumb and forefinger. "And I bet you're already wet."

Carrie sighed softly, her hips shifting. She was wet, had been wet all night and all morning, just remembering Steve and his exquisite cock. Running into him had only made it worse.

"Maybe I just forgot how to be with men." Carrie welcomed Maureen to her breasts, her hands moving through her dark spiral curls as Maureen's tongue lashed against the pink ache of her nipples, one after the other.

"Maybe you should give it another shot," Maureen murmured her bare thigh wedged nicely between Carrie's legs, the button of her jean shorts biting into the soft press of her friend's belly.

"Something happened last night..." Carrie confessed, wiggling in anticipation as Maureen's hot mouth made a trail from her breasts down to her navel.

"What?" Maureen's fingers were deft, practiced, sure. She knew just what her lover wanted, parting the glistening blonde curls and circling Carrie's clit with her thumb. "Tell me."

Carrie did, hesitantly at first, embarrassed, but her words and her breath came faster the more she remembered—and the more urgently Maureen's fingers worked between her thighs.

"Did it turn you on?" Maureen's mouth had found her center, her tongue teasing the little ridge of Carrie's clit. "Did you want his cock?"

"Yes." Carrie flushed, closing her eyes and imagining it—his fingers, his mouth, his cock. She couldn't help herself, even with Maureen's tongue making delicious circles just where she liked it, her long delicate well-manicured fingers spreading Carrie's pussy lips wide.

"Do you want it more than you want my pussy?" Maureen teased, moving quickly to stand next to the bed and wiggle out of her shorts, leaving her pussy exposed near Carrie's eye-level. She had a beautiful cunt, her dark pubic hair sparse, her outer lips swollen, but the inner ones were pink and puffy and always peeked out a little. Her clit hid at the top, the button of her pleasure center that Carrie loved to control with her fingers, her mouth, her tongue.

"Come here." Carrie reached her arms out and Maureen assumed their favorite position, straddling her friend's face while burying her own between Carrie's already open thighs. They settled in together that way, making little noises in their throats, both of them enjoying the giving and receiving at once.

Maureen's tongue moved back and forth over that sweet, sensitive spot, and Carrie rubbed her palms over her own nipples, sending pleasure waves down through her belly toward her hips. Everything was centered where Maureen's mouth was licking and sucking, soft, wet friction that made her wiggle, wanting more.

Carrie loved to taste her—it made her even more excited, feeling flesh against her tongue, tasting her sweet juices as they ran down her chin. Carrie grabbed Maureen's hips, pulling her against her mouth, licking and sucking, wild and unrestrained. Maureen's tongue was flicking faster and faster and Carrie made small noises in her throat, urging her on as she licked her little, swollen spot, too, back and forth, again and again.

Maureen was making noise now, too, and Carrie loved her noises and how her thighs tightened and her hips rocked, using her tongue for Maureen's pleasure. Carrie found herself fast approaching orgasm. It wasn't a sweet, slow spiral upward anymore, now she was flying, racing headlong toward that exquisite release. Maureen's tongue and mouth were a soft, wet, glorious push. Carrie moaned and twisted underneath her, wrapping her arms around her hips and feeling Maureen mash herself against Carrie's face, tongue buried in the folds of her flesh until she could barely breathe, but she didn't care.

It started like a small earthquake, rumbling through Carrie's pelvis and shuddering her hips as she bucked and arched. Maureen was making little noises, knowing the sound and feel of Carrie at her pinnacle, licking faster than ever. Carrie gasped and moaned and forgot about her friend spread over her face for a moment, lost completely in her own pleasure.

"Oh, god, Mo," Carrie whispered, Maureen's fingers moving there, still, sending jolts through her, and she put her whole mouth over Maureen's pussy, rolling with her until she was on her back. Maureen gasped and wiggled, her breath fast and her hips rolling as Carrie licked and licked and licked. Maureen's hands gripped her bottom, her nails digging into flesh, but Carried didn't care. She could hear Maureen making that "ah, ahh" noise that she made when she was close.

"Oh yes, yes!" Maureen cried, gripping Carrie's hips and arching her back. She was quivering, her belly convulsing, undulating, the little bud of flesh under Carrie's tongue pulsing with pleasure. Carrie didn't stop, still teasing her more with her tongue.

Maureen was quick to orgasm again, her nails digging into Carrie's sleek, tanned thighs, but she was also quick to recover, insatiable, always wanting more. Carrie moved slower, her journey toward another climax building and then receding, the world tilting in sway at the moment she reached her pinnacle, her hips bucking and thrashing so hard that Maureen had to grab them to hold her still, her mouth fastened tightly over Carrie's quivering pussy.

It was like a dance, the two of them moving together, back and forth, their bodies becoming slick with sweat and each other's juices and saliva, neither of them paying any attention to the sound of girls running up and down hall, the music coming from the dorm room next door. They were lost in each other, tongues and mouths and fingers and breath, dizzying pleasure cresting again and again, until finally, they were both breathless, cheeks pressed to thighs, faces wet and eyes closed, like two naughty nursing kittens finally sated.

They'd been doing this together for three years, and no one suspected. Not even Maureen's overly-protective boyfriend, James, the one-day minister. Of course, it helped that he went to another school several miles away and wasn't on their campus all the time. It made this easier. It made a lot of things easier for Maureen—including things like going to frat parties.

"Mo?" Carrie's fingernails gently stroked her friend's long legs, making her shiver.

"Hmm?" Maureen's reply was small, dreamy, faraway.

"I'm coming with you to the frat party tonight."

Maureen's head shot up."But finals—"

"Fuck finals." Carrie grinned as her friend sat up, turning quickly around to face her.

"Who are you and what have you done with my roommate?" Maureen grinned, too, her eyes bright.

"The Ice Queen?" Carrie shrugged, trying hard to look nonchalant. "She's dead."

* * * *

The Ice Queen might be dead, but I'm freezing, Carrie thought, looking at the five completely mismatched cards in her hand. She glanced over at Maureen, who was still wearing everything but her damned socks, while Carrie shivered next to her in just her bra and panties.

"Okay, pony up. Whatcha got?" Mark—the red-headed guy from the breakfast line that morning—grinned at her from across the table. Steve Baumgartner—"Call me Doc, everybody does"—was next to him, a lazy half-smile on his face. He had played almost as poorly as she had and was down to a pair of boxers and his socks.

"Two pair," Maureen declared, slapping her hand down.

Mark raised his eyebrows and his beer, taking a long swig. "Funny, I only see one pair."

"Oh, I see two," Steve countered, glancing across at Carrie, her cleavage prominent even in a plain white cotton bra. She felt very exposed, just between the four of them at the table, but there were people all around them, talking, drinking, dancing, making out in corners or draped over couches, and she knew some of them were watching, too.

"Ha!" Mark splayed his hand dramatically. "Three-of-a-kind! Read 'em and weep!"

"What about you?" Steve looked at Carrie and she sighed, putting down her cards.

"Nothing." That's what she'd been dealt all night. A whole lot of nothing. And it was getting her further and further into trouble. Strip Truth or Dare was proving to be a dangerous game. Steve put his cards on the table slowly and Mark groaned when he looked over at them. "Flush -- in spades."

Damnit. Carrie squirmed in her seat, taking a full swig of beer. She hated the taste of the stuff, but she needed the liquid courage, because she knew what happened next.

"Okay, everybody strip something." Mark came up with a sock. Maureen reached up and pulled out her ponytail.

"No fair! "Carrie protested as she reached awkwardly behind her own back to unclasp her bra. "Mo, will you help?"

"Yeah, Mo, give the girl a hand," Steve encouraged, his eyes lighting up as he watched the dark-haired girl undo her friend's bra.

"I can't do this," Carrie murmured so only Maureen could hear. Her friend leaned in and whispered two galvanizing words, "Ice Queen."

That brought Carrie up to her feet like a shot and she slid her bra straps down her arms, letting her breasts fall free, a heavy shift. Mark hooted but Steve just smiled. When his gaze moved up from her chest to meet her eyes she flushed with heat, but she thought she might burst into flame when the whole crowd all hooted and catcalled at her newly undressed state. She quickly sat, crossing her arms to cover herself.

Steve leveled his gaze at her, his eyes moving down to her cleavage, even more pronounced now that she was pressing her breasts together. "Truth or Dare?"

"Who?" Maureen asked, smirking. It was a stupid question. Every question he'd asked that night had been leveled at Carrie.

"Carrie?" Steve's eyes were bright with excitement.

She sighed. "Truth, I guess."

"What were you doing in the men's bathroom last night?"

She gasped, her eyes widening, and then yelped, "Dare! I mean Dare!'

"All right." He chuckled. "Kiss Maureen."

Carrie visible relaxed, turning to her friend. Maureen smiled, leaning in to whisper, "Make it a show. I think he really likes it."

That thought, for some reason, made Carrie squirm in her chair.

Maureen's fingers played in her hair and she moved in slow, her lips barely brushing at first, then her tongue moved in lightly licking, seeking entrance. Carrie moaned softly, forgetting herself, her arms slipping around Maureen's neck, leaving her breasts fully exposed. The women pressed against each other, their tongues and limbs entangled, and Carrie gasped when Maureen's hands moved to cup her breasts.

"Jesus." Mark whispered the word but Carrie barely registered it as Maureen's thumbs moved achingly slowly against her nipples, sending bright flashes of pleasure down to her pussy.

"There," Maureen murmured, breaking the kiss and turning back to the table suddenly. Carrie gulped, her eyes still half-closed, her breath coming too fast.

"Deal, man," Steve said as Carrie remembered where she was, crossing her arms over her chest again. "Just deal."

Somehow they'd drawn even more of a crowd. There was a ring of spectators surrounding them now, mostly guys, and Carrie noticed at least one of them absently rubbing at his crotch, as if he had an itch there. Well, she supposed he did.

Please, let me get a good hand, she thought, holding her cards in close, still trying to cover herself at the same time. It didn't do any good, though—she had everyone's gaze glued on her mostly-naked flesh.

She had a pair—it was a good start, the best she'd had all night. She gave back three cards, and turned over the new three with high hopes.

"Oh man, that's it, that's all she wrote!" Mark hooted and laid down a royal flush, pulling off his other sock and slapping it on the table, too. "Take them off, sweetheart! Let's see that bush!"

"Hey, man," Steve shook his head, nudging Mark. "You don't have to," he said, his eyes meeting Carrie's desperate gaze. "Really."

"Come on!" a voice called from the back. "The Ice Queen thaws! I gotta see this!"

"You really want to see, boys?" Carrie stood, hooking her thumbs in the elastic edge of her panties to a growing crowd of hoots and howls. But that wasn't good enough—if she was going to do it, she might as well go all the way. Shoving her chair forward, she used it to step up onto the table.

She heard the sounds of the crowd and was aware that they were mostly guys, but her gaze fell onto Steve—Doc—as he stared up at her, almost hypnotized. She was topless, nearly nude except for the last wisp of material between her legs. She turned around, her backside to Steve, slowly letting her panties roll down her ass. They stuck slightly between her thighs and she tugged gently, bent almost in half, knowing he could see her pussy now from behind as she stepped out of them.

She stood up quickly, flipping her hair over her shoulder and swinging her panties around a finger. The crowd had moved in, making a close circle, the howls and whoops growing even more excited now that she was completely unveiled.

"Is that what you wanted?" Carrie turned and dropped her panties in Steve's lap, seeing the unmistakable look of lust in his eyes—it was the same with all of them, surrounding her.

"Come on down," Maureen urged, standing to help her, and Carrie stepped onto her chair, then to the floor.

"Who's the ice queen now?" Carrie turned to her friend and kissed her without provocation, bodies pressed together, tongues entwined. The crowd literally cheered.

"Okay, enough."

Carrie barely heard the words, but she felt big, strong hands on her shoulders, and then Steve was separating the two women, pulling his t-shirt over her head.

"What are you doing?" Carrie tried to twist away from him but he caught her up against him tightly.

"This is going to get out of control," he growled into her ear. "You're drunk and have no idea what you're doing."

"What in the hell is going on here?" The voice that truly broke things up was James'—Maureen's boyfriend. "You said you weren't going out tonight."

Uh-oh.

"James, I—" Maureen moved to cover herself, as if she were the one who was nude, while in reality she was almost fully dressed, except for her divested socks.

"We're getting out of here." James grabbed her arm and pulled her through the crowd—they were hissing and booing now at the interruption in the show. Carrie called after her friend, but Steve was pulling her in the opposite direction, leaving Mark, their last Strip Truth or Dare player, sitting alone at the card table surrounded by a drunk and pissed off crowd.

"Where are we going?" Carrie tried again to yank out of his grip, but he was too strong, dragging her down a hallway and up a flight of stairs. She thought she heard voices following them, but the noise of the party was too loud for her to be sure.

"In here." He unlocked a dorm room with a key he dug from his jean pockets—he was still just wearing his boxers, but he'd grabbed his jeans, and it looked like he'd managed to snag most of their other clothes as well.

"Hey, baby, where did you go?" Carrie heard voices in the stairwell. "Come back and dance for us!"

Steve pushed her into the room and shut the door behind them, locking it and flipping a light switch.

"Where'd she go, man?" They were in the hallway now, pounding on doors.

"Fuck if I know, but I want some of that!" More pounding.

"What—?" Carrie started, but Steve's hand over her mouth stopped her as the crowd passed, pounding loudly on the door and then moving to the next. It was only when the voices had moved to the end of the hallway that he let her go, gasping. "What in the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Probably saving you from a gangbang." He tossed their clothes onto one of the twin beds in the room and sat on the other one. "That got totally out of hand."

Carrie felt her face flush, and wasn't sure if it was embarrassment or the effect of the alcohol she'd consumed all night. He was right—she was more than a little drunk, and remembering the show she'd just put on made her wince.

"I can handle myself." She crossed her arms over her chest and sat on the other twin bed. The voices had faded, but she could hear them still, downstairs now, calling. She was still wearing just his t-shirt and she pulled that down over her bare knees. He looked at her, amused.

"I guess we're even now," she said, peering around his dorm room. It was redolent with masculinity, the smell of aftershave and sweat. Her eyes met his questioning gaze for just a moment before skipping away. "Now you've seen me naked."

"Not exactly even." He grinned, leaning back on the bed and lacing his hands behind his head. "I haven't seen you masturbating."

Her spine straightened, her eyes darkening. "Do you want to? I'm not frigid, you know."

"I never said you were." A smile still played over his lips. "If you were a prude, you never would have stayed to watch me."

She blinked at him and then flushed. "I'm sorry."

"I'm not." His gaze held hers, bold.

"Where's your roommate?" The more she looked around the room, the more she took in—the medical books lining a bookshelf in one corner; huge, oversize art books lining another. There was an easel on this side of the room, and a desk with drawing pads and pencils. The other desk was messy, full of papers and open texts.

"He's out with his boyfriend."

"Boy...friend?" She nodded then, understanding.

"He's uh...well, I think he's kind of got a crush on me." Steve looked a little embarrassed at the admission.

"Which is why you were down in the showers that night instead of here in your room?"

"Something like that." He shrugged, looking at the ceiling. "So tell me something...what were you doing in the men's room?"

"It's closer," she confessed. "I hate going all the way down the hall..."

He laughed. "Naughty girl."

"Sometimes." She hoped the dim light hid some of the heat rising in her cheeks.

"And you found me jerking off and decided to watch?"

The heat was spreading from her cheeks, down her chest. "Something like that."

"Did it turn you on?" That look in his eyes was familiar. It was the same look he had on his face when he was watching her take off her panties.

"Yes," she confessed.

"Did it make you wet?"

She didn't have breath to speak now. She just nodded.

"Did it make you want to touch yourself?"

"I did." The confessions just kept on coming. She couldn't seem to help herself.

"You did?" He raised his eyebrows, looking even more interested.

She nodded, finding it hard to catch her breath, as if the air in the room had grown suddenly thin.

"Show me."

She was remembering, the sound of him, the way he moaned and bucked and fisted himself into a frenzy. The way she'd rubbed her little clit raw while she watched. Naughty girl. Yes, she was.

"Just like this." Carrie stood, her breathing shallow already, and lifted the end of his t-shirt up over her thighs, revealing the soft mound beneath. Her fingers slipped between her oh-so-very swollen pussy lips, looking at his face as she made circles against her clit.

At first he just watched, his eyes glazed, mouth slightly open. Then his hand moved slowly down to touch himself through his boxers, rubbing there. She could see the outline of his cock and it made her rub herself even faster.