She moved her hips faster and changed the angle a little so that his cock head bumped against her clit at the end of each stroke. Everything down there was so wet that they just slid together frictionlessly, and she made small sighs every time he stroked her nipples or pushed the straining fabric of her panties a little deeper into her pussy. Suddenly Peter twisted under her with a sharp groan and grabbed her bottom, slipping his fingers down under her waistband, almost pushing her panties off altogether.

"Watch out," he croaked just as the first spurt erupted, flying up and forward to land on his chest. She pulled back to get out of the way, but it didn't help. Cum went everywhere, onto her, onto him, onto the couch. Before she could think better of it, she grabbed his cock with one hand, covering the head to catch the last few bursts in her hand. As he calmed and his hips sank back into the couch, Susan kept holding his shaft, feeling the blood leaving it, feeling his pulse slow and diminish, entranced by his cock's transformation back into ordinary flesh. She let it settle back onto his belly, still partially erect, shiny with their fluids. And something about it made her feel that she'd left things unfinished somehow. Not just because she hadn't cum herself. That was all right; it wasn't what their relationship was about. And she'd insisted on staying dressed, sort of. But .

She leaned over and licked along the shaft, just cleaning his cock off a little. Peter groaned and arched his hips up towards her. She let the head linger between her lips for a moment. Then she sat up, satisfied. That wasn't really sexual, she thought. It was affectionate, like straightening his collar or a hug at the end of the evening before going home.

"It's really late," she said. "I'm hoping there's a bathroom we can use?"

Peter nodded and indicated another door nearby.

She kissed him lightly. "Me first, okay?"



Walking quickly across campus, Susan stopped suddenly enough to cause a distracted-looking Asian student to bump into her. He brushed his hair out of his eyes and blinked at her.

"Sorry," Susan said. The student nodded vaguely and kept walking.

Kate was sitting on a bench under a tree. She wore a thin cotton blouse and jeans and she had her head down. A cold wind sliced across the quad, stirring up leaves. She must be freezing, Susan thought. But Kate sat inertly, her arms at her sides. The fact that she was by herself was odd enough. But the absence of her usual vivacious energy was a sure sign that something was wrong. Susan was late for a class, but she walked over and sat down next to her roommate.

Kate looked up blankly. Her eyes were red-rimmed; mascara dripped. "Oh, hi Susan."

"Hey, Kate. What's the matter?"

"Nothing."

Susan felt a hollow space in her stomach, a sudden ominous premonition. "Come on," she said. "Talk to me."

Kate sat still for so long Susan wasn't sure she'd heard.

"I think Peter is seeing someone else," she said, finally.

Kate was quiet again. Susan didn't push it.

"He hasn't called. He was out somewhere on Tuesday night. He told me he was going to be studying in the library. But he wasn't. I went there and looked for him."

On impulse, Susan put her arm around Kate and pulled her close. Kate stiffened for a moment, then buried her face in Susan's shoulder. She started to sob softly.

"Hey," Susan said. "I'm sure it's okay. Didn't you tell me that he had some big project due this week? He's probably just really busy."

"But why ."

"Shh. Guys can be thoughtless like that. They get distracted easily. You know he'd never leave you. Where would he find someone else as beautiful as you?"

Susan's voice had taken on a sing-song quality, and she rocked Kate gently against her shoulder. I'm turning into her mom, Susan thought. She sighed. I've got enough problems of my own. I'm not signing up for that gig. She looked down at Kate. A small suspicion about her popular, sexy roommate began to grow inside her head. Maybe Kate was always ditching guys so quickly because she couldn't handle it if one of them ditched her first.

"How about if I talk to him?" Susan suggested. "I'd be casual about it. Catch him at our physics class and mention that I haven't seen him around something like that."

Kate looked up at her, eyes big and round and redder than ever. "Could you? That would be great."

Susan squeezed her shoulder and gave her a sisterly kiss on the forehead. "I've got to go, okay? I've got a class."

Kate nodded, smiling bravely. She seemed very child-like and helpless. "Okay."

Susan smiled back. "I'll see you tonight." She got up and nearly ran across the quad, needing to get as far away as she could before Kate thought to ask Susan where she had been on Tuesday night.



"You lied to her," Susan said.

Peter looked miserable. He took a gulp of his coffee and winced: too hot. There were sitting across a small table from each other in a caf off-campus.

"Yeah," he admitted. "She called right before I left to meet you. I didn't know what to do. I told her I'd be in the library."

Susan sighed. "This isn't going to work, is it?"

Peter looked up quickly. He seemed stunned. "What do you mean?"

"I can't let you hurt her. Us, I mean. I can't let us hurt her." She felt around clumsily for the right words, feeling every bit as wretched as Peter. "I thought you and I could just . be together, a little bit, you know, like we were the other night. But we can't."

He tensed for a moment and leaned closer to her. Then he slumped back into his chair. "You're right. I was being really thoughtless. Selfish, I guess."

"Try cowardly." It came out a bit more forcefully than she'd intended. "Sorry, I didn't mean ."

"No, you're right." Peter looked like he wanted to take her hand, then thought better of it. "I was hurting both of you. I wasn't thinking. I was . just stupid. Stupid and selfish. Sorry, I'm repeating myself."

His sincerity nearly destroyed her resolve.

"So what do we do?" he asked.

Susan was ready for that one. "Nothing," she said. "What happens between you and Kate is your business. But you and I . I was right the first time about our seeing each other. We just can't."

He sat very still for a moment. Then he nodded and got up, not really looking at her. "Okay. I should go. I'll see you around."

He hesitated for a second, then leaned over and kissed her on the cheek before walking off.

She stayed where she was, staring into her cooling coffee and wondering how she could feel so proud of herself and so miserable at exactly the same time.



Cross-country practice had ended, and the coach had long since sent everyone back to the locker room. But Susan had built up an angry energy after her conversation with Peter that the tough ten-mile workout hadn't burned out of her. So she kept running, up the big hill behind campus she usually hated doing, and onto the potholed streets of the sleepy suburban neighborhood on the other side. She needed to wear herself out, to clear all the tangled-up stuff out of her head.

Twenty minutes later she was still so self-absorbed that she didn't notice the sky darkening until big, cold raindrops began stinging her face. Oh, hell, she thought. I'm probably three or four miles from the dorm. But there was really no help for it. She didn't have her cell phone with her, and there wasn't anybody around she knew. She was just going to get wet.

She picked up her pace, dispirited, trying to stay under trees where she could. Before long, they started to drip too. She splashed through a puddle she hadn't seen and swore to herself. Now her shoes were wet. She put her head down, gritted her teeth and kept going.

Suddenly she heard a shout.

"Come on, get in."

She looked over towards the voice. There was a blue BMW rolling along next to her. She looked away, annoyed. Sure, like she was really going to get into some strange guy's car.

"Susan, just get in. You're going to catch pneumonia."

She looked back at the car, startled. How had he known her name? She bent down a bit until she could see the driver: Ken.

She slowed to a stop. He stopped too and leaned over to push the passenger door open.

"I'll get you car all wet," Susan said.

"Okay, never mind then. I'll just send flowers."

She looked completely flustered.

"Susan, don't be an idiot. Get in."

It was raining steadily now. Water dripped down her hair and into her eyes. She sighed and brushed futilely at the seat of her damp sweatpants before finally crawling into the car. The interior was marvelously warm and dry.

"How did you know I was here?" she asked. "I didn't know I was going to be here."

Ken shrugged. "I called your room and your roommate answered. Kate is it? She has quite the sexy voice, by the way. Anyway, she told me that you'd probably be at practice. So I drove over to the gym and asked around. One of your teammates said that she'd seen you heading in this direction, looking 'kinda fierce' in her words. And here I am." He bowed modestly. "Actually, the hard part was figuring out who you were you never told me your last name. I spent the last few days asking everyone who'd been to the party if they knew you."

Susan put her hand to her mouth. "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking very clearly by the end of the evening." She looked down at herself. "I'm afraid you're not seeing me at my best right now either."

He laughed, as if she hadn't actually meant it. "No worries. You really look quite fetching with your hair like that. So, can I offer you a cup of coffee?"

Susan shook her head, trying to clear it. She was still adjusting to not being rained on, and it all felt a little surreal. Suddenly guys were going to a lot of trouble on her account. Peter with the telescope, Ken tracking her down in the rain. She didn't quite get it.

"Thanks," she said, "but what I really need right now is a shower and some dry clothes."

"No problem. I'll take you to my place. You can shower while I throw your stuff in the wash."

That put her on her guard. "No, it's okay. Could you just drop me off at my dorm? I really appreciate your picking me up though."

"Hey, I've got a terrific espresso machine. It's from Italy; it has an eagle on top."

Of course he has an espresso machine from Italy, Susan thought uncharitably. A glass of wine, a cappuccino. Does he really think I'm that easy? She looked over at him, searching for the inevitable hidden agenda. But it wasn't there. His face was completely open, friendly. Some of his brown hair fell endearingly across his forehead. This was the version of Ken she liked. No sign of Mr. Smooth. And it really had been awfully nice of him to pick her up. She wasn't sure why she was giving him such a hard time.

"Okay," she said, brushing rain out of her eyelashes. "Espresso from a machine with an eagle on top sounds nice."



"There's a robe and a hair drier in there," Ken said. "Help yourself."

He kind of hung around, but Susan shooed him out of the bathroom. She wasn't quite ready to undress in front of him, the night on the stairs notwithstanding. She stripped, opened the door a crack, and handed the damp bundle of her clothes to Ken, who was still standing in the hall, probably hoping that she'd change her mind.

Susan had to admit that the shower felt wonderful. It had some sort of European sprayer thingie that detached. She took it out of its holder and held it close to her chest. The spray stung her nipples, and a little shiver ran through her body. She aimed the water lower until it tickled her belly button. Mmm. So that's what these things are for, she thought. The more she learned about the adult world, the more she realized that it was all about sex. She spread her legs a little and tilted the sprayer until the water splashed against her pussy and beaded up on her pubic hair. She'd never felt anything like it. Her skin tingled and she held it a bit closer. It didn't feel like someone was touching her exactly. It was more like a million tiny fingertips brushing against her skin, half-tickling, half-teasing. I should stop now, she thought dully. Ken will wonder what I'm doing in here. Well, just another minute, until the wet chill is gone. She moved the warm spray in slow circles, until every part of her sparkled and all her senses felt heightened, ready. The minute she'd given herself passed.

She turned the water off, regretfully. Ken had left her a towel, very fluffy, and an equally luxurious robe. She dried off and enjoyed the sensation of the robe sliding on over her bare, flushed skin. She found the hair drier and organized her chestnut hair into its usual soft flip. It looks particularly stylish this afternoon, she thought. She smiled at herself and stepped out into the hallway. For the first time in days, she realized, she wasn't thinking about Peter.

Ken wasn't in evidence, but she heard activity downstairs in the kitchen. She followed the clatter of cups and saucers and the hiss of steam and found him turning knobs and adjusting nozzles on a gleaming device that did indeed sport a copper eagle on the top. He was wearing jeans, a ribbed t-shirt and loafers regular-guy clothes. She'd only seen him in his Ken-doll outfit at the party, with his hair slicked back. She liked this better. Still, she felt a little vulnerable in her bare feet and wearing just a robe while he was fully dressed. The thought evaporated when he looked up and smiled at her, relaxed and assured, as always.

"Just another minute," he said. He patted the eagle fondly. "I love this thing. The milk foam is like velvet. He poured a small chrome pitcher of coffee into an elegant cup and mixed in some steamed milk. "Sugar?"

"Just a little."

He handed her the cup and their fingers touched for a moment. She took a sip. The smoothness of the espresso-streaked foam lingered on her tongue. Sublime.

"Shall we take these into the living room?" he asked. "Your clothes are in the washer. They'll be a while yet."

She nodded and followed him into the same high-ceilinged room where they'd first met. It made her feel microscopic.

"Do you live here by yourself?" she asked.

"At the moment. I was sharing the place with a couple of friends, but one's in Botswana at the moment, collecting something snails, I think. The other fellow moved in with his girlfriend over the summer. I keep thinking that it won't last, so I've kept his room for him." Ken stopped and looked around a little wistfully. "It is pretty gloomy, isn't it?"

They looked at each other, and then they both laughed. Ken was sheepish. "My parents' idea. I hate it, actually."

"Well, it's a good party house. Better than mine, that's for sure. I always got so embarrassed when my friends visited my folks' place. The scrimshaw collection, you know?" Susan shuddered.

She looked around the room. Two armchairs and a couch formed a grouping around a coffee table. Susan sat down in one the chairs. It was big and plush, but there was no way it was going to accommodate two people. Ken settled into the couch and sipped his coffee with no evident sign of disappointment. Susan carefully rearranged the bottom of the robe over her legs feeling somewhat relieved.

"So do you get to keep the place when you graduate?" Susan asked.

"God no. Actually, I don't get to keep anything except the shirt on my back. My dad decided that I should learn to make it on my own." He waved his arms to indicate the house and all its contents. "Once I leave college, poof, it's all gone. So if you're in the market for a rich husband ."

He actually sounded apologetic. Susan wondered what sort of girls he normally invited over.

"The thought never entered my mind," she said firmly. "I only want you for your espresso."

Ken smiled warmly. His eyes really sparkled when he did that, she noticed.

"So you probably aren't in a big hurry to graduate."

He leaned forward. Mr. Smooth was nowhere in sight now, no pretenses, no polished manners. "I have mixed feelings about that," he said slowly. "It isn't easy having successful parents, parents who have such high expectations."

Susan shook her head. "Forget them." She waved at the living room and its vaulted ceiling and track lights so far up that she could barely see them. "You don't even want this. How long have you been hiding out here anyway?"

He looked a little embarrassed. "Five years."

The same as Peter, she thought, but for different reasons.

"It's not so bad out there, you know. You should give it a try."

She'd said it lightly, but Ken was looking at her with a dead serious intensity. This conversation really mattered to him.

"Are there people like you out there?" he asked.

She nodded slowly, meeting his gaze. "Yes."

He didn't say anything. He just looked back at her with his soft brown eyes, flecked with green.

Susan put her coffee cup down and unfastened the belt on her robe. The hem slid across her thighs until the two sides hung down on either side. The upper part of the robe pulled open and scratched across her very stiff nipples. She could see Ken's breathing deepen and felt his eyes travel down her body from the flushed skin at the top of her chest over the swells of her breasts, their inner curves fully exposed, small pink crescents of her aureoles peeking out tantalizingly from the edges of the robe, down to her smooth stomach and the dark circle of her belly button, and finally to the patch of chestnut pubic hair. Her thighs were together, preventing more intimate scrutiny, and Ken looked up again, his eyes more intense than ever.

"Open your legs," he said.

Susan's heart raced. Her limbs felt numb, unresponsive. She tried to drag her eyes away from his, to look down, or away or anywhere.

Ken waited, not speaking.

Her legs began to shake. She stared at them, willing herself to calm down. But the harder she tried, the less control she seemed to have. Her knees moved apart. Her pussy lips spread, puffy and glistening, revealing soft pink folds within. She bit her lower lip and looked up. As she did, the edges of her robe, pulled further apart by her spread thighs, strained for a moment against her nipples then fell away, leaving her breasts completely bare. The flush on her chest spread downward into the rounded valley between.

Ken leaned forward. "Touch yourself," he whispered.

Her eyes widened. "Ken!"

"It's all right," he said. "There's nothing to be ashamed of. You look beautiful."

His voice had the power she remembered from the first night she'd met him, calm and controlled, irresistible. She felt as if she were stepping into darkness, into a place where she didn't know her way. She hesitated for a moment, and then moved her hand down between her legs, the heat radiating from her pussy seeming to draw it closer. She slid one finger tentatively across her outer lips, smearing moisture, then spiraled it inward until the tip was lightly circling her clit.

This is how it had started, Susan thought, that night in her dorm room: moving her fingers awkwardly under her panties while Peter and Kate went at it on the next bed. But she'd been the audience then, hidden and anonymous; now she was center stage. That made a difference.

"I want you to undress too," she said.

Ken smiled slightly and nodded. He pulled his shirt over his head, unzipped his jeans and pushed them down along with his shorts. He kicked off his loafers then bent forward until he had worked his pants off completely. When he sat back up he was naked.

Susan rubbed harder on her clit and she trembled deliciously. She could see Ken's tongue move nervously between his lips. She looked at his body, taking her time, making a long, leisurely appraisal. She'd never felt comfortable staring at a man this way before. But it seemed all right here; it was what they were doing together instead of watching TV or studying or something more normal. His face was handsome in a classical sort of way, a straight nose and high cheekbones. But there was a little sadness around his eyes. She liked that. She wanted to know why. And he looked . sculpted, the planes and angles of his body accentuated by the tension in his posture. He wasn't as muscular as Peter, but toned and smooth-limbed, almost hairless on his chest, a fine down of light brown hair on his legs and around . around his cock. Once her eyes had strayed down to it, she couldn't look away. She'd seen it before, of course, even tasted it. But it was different now, more dangerous somehow. He was thick, not as long as Peter, round at the end (did that mean he was uncircumcised?) Like a blunt object in a mystery novel. Susan shivered just looking at it. She imagined it going inside her . no, she just couldn't. She took a deep breath. It was a relief, actually, to make her mind up about that now, to know where things were going or (she couldn't help giggling) not going in this case.