Worlds Colliding Ch. 01bycafetray©
I would recommend reading "Roman Holiday" and "Women's Health Issues 101" as this story assumes you are familiar with the plots and characters. If you aren't, this story will seem like an awful mess.
Crossover stories are always tough. "Mork and Mindy" meet "Happy Days", "The Harlem Globetrotters on Gilligan's Island", that STUPID cartoon where Batman was on Scooby Doo ... there isn't a lot to recommend the crossover. But I'm going to try anyway.
Worlds Colliding – Part 1
Leslie seethed as she marched across the quad, snow crunching beneath her feet. She was getting sick of this, really sick of this. She had ideas, she had suggestions, she had points to make and every time she tried to bring them to Victoria Tastick, they were shot down. "Too aggressive" or "too hasty" or "we need to stay in the background". It was ridiculous. If you had the power, you used it ... that's the way the world worked. The Association had the power and they refused to use it. It was maddening! If she could just get a few minutes, along, with Victoria she was sure she could make her see reason. But all of her requests for face time with Victoria had been rejected, just like all her suggestions. And she knew why.
Bridget, Bridget Bridget! Everyone thought Bridget was so wonderful; Leslie thought Bridget was a fucking idiot. Bridget was the High Priestess of the "slow and steady" disease everyone in The Association was infected with. Victoria may have controlled their coven, but Bridget controlled access to Victoria. Leslie knew her real problem wasn't everyone else's timidity, it was Bridget. But as things stood, Bridget was an insurmountable problem. Sometimes Leslie wondered if induction into The Association had been worth it.
She looked around, remembered where she was and realized it had been. She was going to one of the best colleges in the nation. She may very well have made it here on her own, but The Association had made it easier. After college, she'd have a foot in the door in any profession she chose, thanks to The Association. And then there were the women. She'd been pretty good at talking women into bed before; the "insights" The Association had given her had made it ridiculously easy. Frustration with Bridget aside, her 1st semester of college had been the best four months of her life. There was no reason to think her second semester, barely one week old, would be any worse. Leslie knew she shouldn't be thing angry; things were good enough, at the very least.
But Leslie didn't believe in settling for good enough.
One thing that made her so angry was she'd almost been Bridget. Her rival had let slip once that when Victoria had been casting about for a protégé, the choice had come down to her and Bridget. For reasons that had never been shared with her, Bridget had been chosen. More than once, Leslie had speculated to herself Bridget blocked all her requests because maybe, just maybe, Victoria would realize she'd made the wrong choice.
The other thing she didn't like to think about. Bridget had personally handled Leslie's induction. It had been the most intense, most powerful sexual experience of her life. On the rare occasions her confidence wavered, Leslie thought of that night, of the powerful orgasm that had given birth to her new life, and she worried she'd never feel so gratified again.
Night had fallen, but Leslie had reached her destination, the campus science building. She let herself in through the back door, as she'd been instructed. She arrived in the class with 10 minutes to spare, and had a look around. The rumor was the professor was a lesbian and didn't let men into her classes. Not only that, the rumors also said the professor only let the best looking women into her classes. So far, the rumors looked to be true. The dozen other girls in the room could all stop traffic. Leslie wasn't the least bit intimidated. She's always had a beautiful face; thick, jet black hair, dark, liquid brown eyes, button nose, sensual mouth, sharp chin. But her body had been boyish, all knobby knees and elbows and gangly limbs with the loosest of connections to her torso. The summer before her senior year, her tits had grown in. Sure, she was only a b-cup, but that was one full cup size more than she'd had any hope to expect, and they fit her frame perfectly.
She didn't have big boobs, but she had nice ones, and anyone with a brain knew there was a difference. The rest of her curves had filled in as well. She had killer legs and an ass other women spent hours on the StairMaster trying to get. Boys began to notice her, which she didn't care about at all. Girls suddenly couldn't keep their ands off her, which she loved.
The professor entered the class and all the girls settled into their seats. She was tall, with sandy brown hair, green eyes and plump, shiny lips. Her breasts were full and round. The fitted dress pants she wore seemed molded to her flared hips and strong, long legs. Leslie got a little moist just looking at her. The professor quickly surveyed her newest students with satisfaction.
"My name is Professor Karen Sawyer and this is Women's Health Issues 101. If you are here for a different class, it's too late now," the students laughed. Prof. Sawyer reached into a bag on the desk and pulled out a grey sphere. She touched a button on the top and a soft hiss filled the room. "Each class will begin with a short meditation session. Breath in through your nose and out through your mouth and relax. I'll let you know when we're ready to begin."
Leslie did as she was told. He anger, her frustration, all thoughts of Victoria and Bridget melted away. It felt wonderful. She was shocked, when Prof. Sawyer called them back to attention, to see a full 30 minutes had passed. And she was aroused, wildly. Her pussy was warm and sticky. Her breath came in rapid, short gasps. Her nipples tingled. Leslie dared a look around the room. It was obvious she wasn't the only one in this state. Many of the girls were already feeling themselves up. Only some of them were trying to hide it, with no success at all. It struck Leslie as odd, for a second, but she decided she didn't care. She couldn't remember feeling so turned on.
"This class is dedicated to the exploration of female sexuality," Sawyer began with a smile, "and I am a firm believer in diving right into things. I invite you to begin exploring your sexuality now."
As one, the girls stood. Leslie's eyes went immediately to the girl at the front of her row, the one with the chocolate brown skin, hair woven into a mass of thing black and tan braids and massive breasts. Another girl moved in that direction. Leslie pushed her way past and threw herself into the black girl. The kiss froze the dusky vision, then she melted into it. Her hands found Leslie's ass, slid up her hips and along her ribs until Leslie's head rested in the crook of the girl's arms, crushing them together. Leslie felt the girl's chest swell and flatten against her.
Though four inches shorter, Leslie took control. She pirouetted and laid the black girl on a table, legs dangling over the edge. Leslie pulled the blouse free from the jeans and kissed her way up the girl's belly, undoing buttons as she went. When she got there, she made a point of ignoring the girl's tits, despite the fact she'd arched her back high to push them into Leslie's face. Instead, Leslie kept kissing and unbuttoning and when the blouse was completely open the girl lifted her torso off the table to strip the garment off her arms. She undid her bra for good measure.
Leslie lifted the cups off the cocoa orbs. The girl's nipples were hard and purple and the size of half dollar coins. Leslie took one into her mouth. The girl responded with a shudder, followed by a groan and panting. Her hands cupped her breasts, offering them to Leslie. Leslie worked slowly, taking her time as she moved from one teat to another. She liked her lovers good and wet, and when the black girl began writing on the table, Leslie knew all was ready.
She began to kiss and lick her way down the undulating belly. The black girl knew what was coming and she whimpered nervously. As Leslie ran her tongue in the girl's belly button, she unsnapped the jeans, eliciting a sharp gasp. The zipper was pushed down, and even through the denim Leslie could feel the wet heat emanating from the black girl's pussy. She positioned herself between the spread legs and ran her hands along the girl's hips, fingers slipping under the waistband. She pulled the jeans down, staring deeply into the black girl's eyes. She looked scared as she lay on the table, kneading her breasts, wearing only her g-string, but she did noting to stop Leslie. It occurred to Leslie she didn't know the girl's name and considered introducing herself before deciding an anonymous fuck would be so much hotter. Gently, she began to pull down the thong.
"Oh God ... oh my God ... oh my God," the black girl whispered, as if she couldn't believe what was happening. She offered no resistance, and spread her legs wide once the g-string was free. Her twat was split, wet and completely bald. It looked to Leslie like a dark, soft petal after a soaking rain. Leslie kissed all around it before running the tip of her tongue the length of the slit.
"Uhhhhh," Anonymous grunted. Leslie licked again and again was rewarded with a sound of pure eroticism. And then Leslie could take no more. Her tongue lashed savagely at Anonymous' quim, moving from swollen clit to leaking hole. The black girl propped herself on her elbows, hands still playing with her breasts, so she could watch as Leslie lapped away the last of her heterosexuality. Her roiling stomach drove her cunt into Leslie's face. Their eyes met.
"Yes, yes, yes ... fuck it ... fuck it girl," Anonymous growled. "So good ... so good ... ohhh ... ohhh ... now ... now ... nownownownooooo!"
Anonymous' head rolled back and she screamed, completely unconcerned with who knew the greatest orgasm of her life was ripping through her body at that very moment. The sensations pulsed from her cunt and seemed to rebound off of her extremities before concentrating between her legs again. Her arms gave out and she crashed to the table, body shuddering as the feeling ebbed.
Leslie stripped quickly and climbed onto the table. The two kissed fiercely, bodies struggling to press closer together. Leslie ran her body against the black girl's face, allowing only the shortest taste of her tits before moving on. Then she was straddling Anonymous' face. She lowered herself.
The other girls had broken up into twosomes and threesomes, on the tables, on the floor, against the wall. A long, wide tongue burrowed into Leslie's cunt. The music of women fucking women lilted all around her. Leslie fingered her nipples. Anonymous hit just the right spot and Leslie moaned. Realizing what she'd done, the black girl hit the spot again ... and again ... and again. When she finally came, Leslie screamed almost as loudly as the girl beneath her had. And when her strength allowed, Leslie did as Prof Sawyer instructed and found another girl.
It was over all too soon for Leslie. Prof. Sawyer gave them a pep talk as they all put their clothes back on, then dismissed the class. Most of the girls scrambled out, eager to continue what they'd started. Leslie doubted there'd be much sleep had this night. But she held back. Prof. Sawyer looked up when she realized she wasn't alone.
"Leslie, right?" Sawyer asked.
"That's right," Leslie approached the desk.
"I have to say I watched you for a while tonight," Sawyer smirked, "and I liked what I saw."
Pride filled Leslie. She could tell Prof. Sawyer was a kindred soul. Prof. Sawyer understood her. Whatever reservations or guild she'd felt about the decision she'd made were shattered. She glanced at the door. Anonymous stood there, waiting for her. Leslie took it as an omen. She smiled and the black girl returned it. Leslie turned back to Prof. Sawyer.
"There's something I need to tell you about," she began. "It's going to sound crazy, but bear with me."
Bridget sat in Victoria's kitchen, sipping an orange juice. Victoria had been on the phone when she'd arrived, and they conducted so much business in the kitchen anyway. Besides teaching Bridget how to use her powers, preparing her to lead a coven of her own someday, Victoria had taught the redhead everything she knew about cooking. A warm kitchen was Victoria's favorite classroom. Bridget was grateful for the familiar surroundings. She was that disturbed.
"Well, this is a pleasant surprise," despite the cheery tone, Bridget could tell something was on Victoria's mind. "I thought you wouldn't be home until the weekend."
"I took a couple days off from school. There's something I wanted to talk to you about and it couldn't wait."
"Go ahead," Victoria took a seat at the table.
Bridget paused, not sure how to begin, "I was wondering if you felt ... it ... last night?"
"I don't know," Bridget admitted. "I was hoping you might."
A serious expression clouded Victoria's face. She nodded, "I did feel it, and no, I have no idea what it was."
Victoria looked out the window as she thought, "Call the rest of the coven, start with the newest girls. Let's make sure everyone is okay."
"Alright," Bridget stood. "Is there anything else?"
"What do you mean?"
"You seem like you have something else that is bothering you."
Victoria waved her hand, "I got a phone call just now and I don't know what to make of it. Crazy stuff, but the woman who called has always been very reliable. But first things first. Call the girls and let's see what we can see."