Women's Studies Ch. 05

"And then he said, 'What about the swordfish?'" Tarzan finished, receiving loud laughs from all of us.

The conversation was nice, but I was beginning to get more and more nervous the longer I waited. With great effort, I stilled my shaking hands and placed one on his muscled arm.

"These are nice," I said, running my hands over the smooth curves and firm ridges. "You don't mind, do you?" I asked, holding his blue eyes with mine.

He smiled at me, giving his assent, and I let my hand roam further. I was already sitting very close, so with little effort I let my hand slip from his arm to his chest. It was a delicate touch, and I was sure he could feel the sensual nature behind it. I brushed his nipple with my fingers before pausing to give it a playful squeeze.

My heart was hammering into my rib cage, and my tightened corset was causing my breath to come short. Still staring into his eyes, I moved my hand down his rock-hard abs, feeling the rise and fall of each hard muscle until my fingertips brushed the rough fabric of his loin cloth.

I could see him swallow hard. I traced my fingers along the cloth until I reached the tie at his waist and then I made my way down his thigh.

I couldn't tell if the table had just gone quiet, or if my mind was so overloaded that I could no longer process sound. His flesh felt so warm under my touch. As I slid my hand back up, I let my fingers dip to the inside of his leg, where they eventually disappeared under his cloth. As soon as my hand disappeared from view, I slowed my progress, moving inch by inch. I wanted to do this, but I couldn't deny that I was still scared.

We both jumped a little when my fingers made contact, and Tarzan jerked his head away to see if anyone noticed what was happening. All the girls at our table knew exactly what was going on, but as for the rest of the club, they were completely oblivious.

I had been expecting to feel warm flesh under my fingers, but instead I felt soft fabric. It seemed our Tarzan wasn't as authentic as he appeared. Still, I was not to be deterred. I found the waist of the underwear he was wearing and gently tugged them down.

Tarzan eased off his seat as I slipped them off of him, and I hid his brown banana hammock in between my thigh and chair. With his underwear gone, there was an obvious tent in his loin cloth, lifting it a few inches off of his lap.

I edged my chair even closer and placed my hand back on his thigh and smiled. This time, when I slid my hand underneath, I met no obstruction. As I made my way closer to his crotch, I felt his hardened shaft brush against the back of my hand, causing a quick intake of breath that was echoed by my Tarzan.

Still a little timid, I gently traced his length with my fingertips, feeling his silky soft flesh combined with the firmness of iron underneath. I made the trip up and down twice before I concurred that he was definitely larger than I was. He must have been at least nine inches.

I licked my lips nervously, and then eased my hand around his shaft. It felt so strong in my hand. So firm. I had felt my own, but it wasn't anywhere near the same when it was someone else's. It felt so hot to my touch, and I could feel the blood pulsing into it. I gave it a little squeeze and it jumped in my hand giving me a shock.

Giggling at my foolishness, I resumed my work. With his cock firmly in my hand, I began to stroke him in a slow deliberate motion. I knew what I liked, and I made sure to put all of that into my efforts.

I could feel Tarzan twitching under my ministrations, fighting back the urge to thrust himself faster into my fist. I began to pump him harder, adding a cork-screw motion, and before long, his eyes were closed tight, begging for his release.

As I continued to pleasure his shaft, I felt his hand on my thigh, slowly inching its way higher and higher. The feel of his rough strong hands on my soft skin felt exhilarating. I desperately wanted him to go higher, but in a panic, I stopped his hand with my own, holding it in place just inches from my panties.

I could see Kennedy sitting on the other side of him, smiling widely at me with her phone in her hand. Remembering why I was doing this, I angled his cock up more, letting the loin cloth fall away to expose him.

Still holding his hand firmly against my thigh, I leaned in close resting my head on his bare muscled chest. I could feel him begin to swell in my hand, and I began to stroke faster. His strong hand gripped my thigh tighter, causing his fingers to dig into my smooth, toned flesh.

I knew he was going to cum, and my mind was screaming for him to do it for me. My body felt possessed, I flicked my tongue out across his nipple and sucked it into my mouth. As if that was the cue he had been waiting for, Tarzan grunted like the wild beast he was, and I felt his cock erupt in my hand. With every throbbing pulse, cum sprayed out, arching up and onto the table in front of us.

There was a single solitary moment of silence as his orgasm ended, and we both attempted to catch our breath. Everyone around the table was staring at me, and then the last thing I expected happened, they cheered. My teammates let out a raucous shout of victory for my accomplishment.

Seeing the semen on the table in front of me, and all of my girlfriends excited about what I had just done, I began to feel nervous again. I smiled awkwardly as I blushed like a fury. Knowing they had watched the whole thing, me jerking off a complete stranger in public, was making me even hornier than I had been while I was doing it.

When I had his cock in my hand it felt amazing, but I was still a little in shock that I was actually doing it. Now that it was done, it all came flooding back to me and I couldn't stop the erection that was growing under my dangerously short skirt.

"Excuse me, I'm just going to wash up really quick," I told Tarzan and my friends. "I'll be right back."

I most definitely was not going to be right back. I slid off my chair, and making sure my cape covered my backside, and any bulge I might have in my panties, I rushed to the women's room. There was a small line, but to the protests of the women standing in it, I skipped to the front. My need was greater than theirs. You could always hold it just a little bit longer, you could not stop a painful erection. It seemed like the more pain they endured, the more they demanded to grow and break free from their captivity.

I quickly shut the door to the stall and freed my torment. With my cock firmly in hand, I stroked myself furiously, replaying the sight and feel of my hand around Tarzan's huge cock. I could still feel his brutish hand on my thigh, sliding slowly up to touch me, and then gripping me painfully as he came by my hand. In no time, I was shooting my load onto the dirty bathroom floor with a gasp of relief.

I leaned against the wall as I caught my breath and texted my friends to meet me outside while my cock shrank back to a more manageable size. I didn't know how to go back to that table and have a nice conversation with some strange guy I had just jerked off, and the good news was I didn't have to. Besides, we still had more challenges to get through.

"I can't believe you just did that!" Abigail squealed as I met them outside.

"I'm so proud of you," Kennedy whispered as she gave me a big hug.

"Thank you!" I whispered back. "It means so much that your here to support me."

"Speaking of support..." Kennedy said, reaching into a pouch on her utility belt. "I thought you might like these." She was holding up what looked to be Tarzan's thong.

"How did you get those?" I asked, surprised.

"They fell on the floor when you went to go wash up," she explained. "Just think, Tarzan is going to spend the rest of the night with his junk swinging away under that cloth," she said, causing gales of laughter as we took in the image.

"You are so cruel!" Abigail exclaimed, shaking her head.

"Hey, life's all about balance," Kennedy explained. "He got a great hand job from a hot girl, and then he went and lost his Pickle Pouch. See? Balance."

"You guys are some hardcore bitches!" Skylar said, giving us high fives.

After that, the rest of the night felt like a breeze. We found our way to a couple of frat parties where we ticked off all of our beer bong challenges, and managed to write our names on a guy that was passed out in a lounge chair by a pool. With my new confidence, I even managed my lap dance. I didn't do as well as Kennedy, but it was good enough for the points. Carmen San Diego and Waldo were elusive as ever, but we did find all four ninja turtles which started a heated debate about if each turtle was worth its own points.

"It just says Ninja Turtle," Abigail explained. "No doubles. We'll only get credit for one."

"They're not doubles, they are each a different turtle," Skylar protested for the fifth time. "That one's Donatello, that's Rafael, and Leo and Mikey are over by the barbecue. See, different turtles... No doubles."

I had stepped out of this argument almost ten minutes ago. I was still pretty drunk, but I wasn't so drunk that I needed to argue about Ninja Turtles drunk. Personally, I was more interested in what Kennedy was up to. We only had one challenge left, and an hour to get back to The Library to turn them in, and it seemed like Kennedy was getting ready to close.

Abigail's mood had been all over the place tonight. She was happy go lucky one minute, and hurt or upset the next. I was beginning to think we had let her have too much alcohol, along with too much stimulus, to be honest. She would get happy or upset at the slightest provocation. Her arguing with Skylar was actually a blessing because we were at the Molly Ringwald challenge, and in her state, she didn't need to see this.

We all knew that Kennedy was the panty whisperer, and this challenge was hers from the beginning. She had kept putting it off because she didn't want to upset Abigail. They had their relationship, and it was a good one, but right now Abigail would not be able to comprehend that Kennedy was just doing this for the team, and just because she enjoyed doing it as well, didn't mean that Kennedy would have done it otherwise.

So, while Skylar and Abigail discussed the exact wording of a challenge that we had already completed, I watched on as Kennedy pulled out all of her moves on a slutty Red Riding Hood. Kennedy had her pressed up against the wall on a deserted side of the frat house, kissing her neck while running her hands through her long black hair. Red's hands were being blocked by Kennedy's body, but I could only guess that they were rubbing furiously over the crotch of her Black Widow body suit.

As if they were completely alone, Kennedy reached underneath Red's skirt and slowly peeled down her panties. Already ready and waiting, I snapped a few pictures of them both, making sure to catch the tiny black G-string while it was still around Red's thighs.

Kennedy reached back underneath Red's skirt and went to work as she continued kissing her. I watched the short but quick movements of her forearm in fascination. While Kennedy strummed her pussy, Red kicked off her panties and hooked a leg around Kennedy, pulling her closer.

"But there not the same Turtle!" I heard Skylar yelling again.

After a few more minutes of Kennedy's fingers, Red pushed her off gasping for breath. Eager for more, she grabbed Kennedy's hand and led her back into the frat house, presumably to a more private or comfortable location. As they rounded the corner, I stealthily moved in, worthy of the dark night himself, and retrieved our prize.

I wadded them up and tucked them into my cleavage before whipping out my phone to shoot a text to Kennedy.

~I GOT THEM!~

"Okay ladies," I said, wrapping my cape around Skylar, who was now shivering from her severe lack of clothing. "It's time to go turn in our list before it's too late."

"T-t-thank y-y-ou," Skylar said rubbing her shoulders. Her skin was pebbled with goosebumps, and her nipples were pressing hard into the shirt fabric that was stretched tight across her breasts.

She really hadn't planned this whole costume thing out that well. I was basically wearing a corset and booty shorts, as far as my tiny skirt was concerned, and she was wearing less than I was. Phoenix might have been a desert, but it could get a little chilly at night, especially when you compared it to the near hundred-degree weather we were suffering through a few weeks ago.

"Come on, Abigail," I said, holding her hand. "Let's all go and get warmed up. I bet we have hot coco at the dorm."

By the time I got them out to the car, Kennedy was waiting for us with the heater already running. Still huddling together for warmth, the three of us clamored into the back seat together and Kennedy began to drive us back.

"Did we get all of them done?" Abigail asked, breaking the silence of the ride.

"We didn't get Carmen San Diego or Waldo," Kennedy said, keeping her eyes on the road.

"But we did get all four Ninja Turtles," Skylar piped in.

"We only get credit for one of them!" Abigail insisted.

"Enough about the damn Turtles!" Kennedy and I said in unison.

We made it to the Library with twenty minutes to spare. Abigail and Skylar were down for the count in the back seat, leaving Kennedy and I to turn in our envelopes and pictures, along with a pair of black panties that were still slightly damp.

"So, what did you do with Red Riding Hood?" I asked Kennedy while I had her away from Abigail.

"She took me up to a room and I told her I was going to grab us a couple drinks and be right back," Kennedy replied.

"Poor girl," I sighed.

"She was pretty, she'll be okay," Kennedy smiled.

After talking with one of the officials, we in fact did not receive extra points for each extra ninja turtle. They apologized for the unclear wording of the challenge, but in our case it didn't really matter. We had claimed Sixty-Nine points and held a twenty-point lead on everyone else that had turned theirs in so far. Unless someone showed up in the next twenty minutes who had completed all of their objectives, and managed to find Carmen San Diego or Waldo, then we would be the winners. Apparently, everyone received that particular envelope.

Kennedy and I wanted to stick around to see if anyone turned up, but the other girls were still drunk and passed out in the car. Kennedy drove us all back to Evens Hall, and it took some doing, but we managed to get Skylar and Abigail both back to the dorm and tucked warm in their beds.

"That was a lot of work," Kennedy said, collapsing onto the couch next to me after she tucked in Abigail.

"Tell me about it," I sighed tiredly. "Next year we should really pace our drinking if we do this again."

"Are you talking about the drunk wonder twins?" Kennedy asked, "Because I was talking about that hand job. You sure your arms not tired from all that stroking?" she asked, making a jerking motion with her hand, and causing my cheeks to burn with embarrassment. "You do remember that you only needed to touch it for the extra points, right? We didn't need a semen sample."

Just when I was wishing that I could melt from embarrassment, Kennedy leaned in and kissed me on the side of the forehead.

"I'm so proud of you," she said pulling me into a hug.

"I love you!" I said feeling tears in my eyes as my heart lifted from her words and embrace.

"I love you to, Sweety."