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This is my second story (ever). It is a continuation of my first “Can I Rub It For You?” (Which I wish I had just titled “Foot Rub”, but whatever the past is the past.)
The story really depends on the first, especially the very end, so I encourage anyone interested to go back to that if you haven’t already.
Like the first, this is a long slow burn. (Just how it came out)
As I said before, I’ve lurked this site for a while, so its inspired by some of the stories I’ve read, but is entirely the work of the author.
I apologize for any spelling/grammar mistakes (I am a visual artist, not a writer). I did my best.
I hope you enjoy and that will leave comments if you do.
Annie sat in the glow of her desk light. Her books and papers in ordered stacks. She had finished her work, but was reviewing her schedule for the next week, planning her days.
She heard the door open, turned in her chair to see Michele as she shut the door and kicked off her flip flops. She had left that morning for another trail run on some nearby mountain with the Cross Country Club and had been gone all day. Annie had studied until mid afternoon when Nancy had burst in hot and heavy, bundling her off to the field house for a yoga class. Afterwards she and Nancy had had dinner with a group of other students from the class.
When she came back to the room it was empty, but Michele’s red shorts and other running gear was on the floor near the door. Yoga had been more relaxing then taxing so Annie decided to skip showering and changed into her sleep gear – a silk set of loose pink trunks and camisole her mother had given her – and had settled herself at her desk.
She heard the door and turned to see Michele, wrapped in her thick white bathrobe, hair up in a towel, face flush and still damp.
Michele, seeing Annie looking at her, stared back as she locked the door. Crossing to her bed and tossing her kit on her pillow, she bent her neck forward and unwrapped her hair. Wet, it was the color of dark chocolate and looked heavy. Annie, whose short hair her mother said was as fine as corn silk, tried to imagine how it would feel to have a thick mane of heavy. She watched in silence as Michele began to gently dry it by pressing it with her towel.
After a time she dropped back onto her bed and without stoping, head still bent, she reached blindly into the little bag with one hand and began to rummage her things. By now Annie knew Michele’s ritual. She stood up, switched off her desk lamp, and crossed to stand in front of the stronger girl. She reached down and placed her hand on the wrist of Michele’s groping hand.
Her fingers looked so small and white against the other girl’s powerful tan arm.
“May I?” She asked quietly.
Without responding Michele withdrew her hand, and Annie retrieved the hair brush. She straightened up and stood waiting as the other girl gave her hair one last squeeze and, setting the towel on the bed, looked up at her.
Holding her gaze, Annie stepped forward into the space between Michele’s knees and, starting at her brow, she began to brush her hair with long slow strokes. As she worked with her right hand, she smoothed Michele’s brow with her left, exploring its contours with her thumb. Cupping the shape of her bony crown with her palm. Her skin was moist and still radiating the heat from her shower.
While nothing about Michele was mannish, or blocky, she had a beautifully square face with chiseled features. Sharp cheek bones, long straight nose, big widely spaced dark brown eyes, and full beautiful lips that stood out as if painted. Annie felt her own features were soft, desaturated and washed out in comparison. She stroked Michele’s eyebrows with her thumb, admiring them. They were thick and dark, as clearly defined as the rest of her, which Annie liked very much. Her own brows were pale and thin, she wondered if Michele had to pluck hers – she’d never seen her doing it.
Michele was looking up at her while she studied here features, and Annie warmed at the attention. The weekend had gone by quickly, and while nothing in particular had been said a great deal had happened, and she felt far more at ease with Michele than she ever had before.
Saturday morning both girls had slept late, missing breakfast. When Annie finally did wake up Michele was sleeping deeply still, her hair a tangled fan behind her, but she had on her old-man pajama and was under her covers, so she must have gotten up at some point in the night.
Stretching, Annie got up pulled on a pair of jeans and boots, and grabbed her jacket. Closing the door behind her as quietly as possible she headed down the hall. She stopped to wash her face and brush her teeth on the way out (tucking her toothbrush in her back pocket), then clomped noisily down the stairs; enjoying the happy racket. Following a “desire path” she crossed the quad diagonally to the student center where she got two coffees from the cafe bahis firmaları and headed back to their room.
On the white board mounted to the outside of their door “MOVIE NIGHT!” had been scrawled in red marker. She didn’t recognize the handwriting and wondered for a moment what it meant – she hadn’t seen it written on any of anyone else’s board. Meanwhile the door was ajar. Pushing it open with her toe she found Michele sitting up reading a book on her unmade bed, her back against the wall. She had cleaned up and pulled back her hair into a ponytail, but was still in her old man pajamas.
Annie left the door open and kicked off her boots. Handing Michele her coffee (lots of milk, no sugar) she walked to her desk and settled in there to study. The two of them spent the afternoon that way. People stopped by to chat, or just poked their heads in the door to say hi, but no serious interruptions. Nancy stopped by to explain the note on the whiteboard. The Film Club was screening “Pulp Fiction”, which Annie had still not seen. It turned out neither had Michele or Nancy. The three of them made a plan to attend.
At one point Michele pulled jeans over her pajama bottoms and went out foraging. She came back with drinks and a couple of sandwiches along with a big salad for Annie. They’d sat across from each other on Michele’s bed eating and gossiping about their classes a little. But mostly working through there meal in silence.
It was well past dark before either of them showered, and then, only because it was “movie night”. When Annie got back from her shower Nancy was in their room looking exasperated. She scolded her for taking so long in the shower. “We’re going to get shitty seats!”
Michele smiled at her conspiratorially, but was clearly now rushing to get dressed.
“I had to shave.” Annie’d explained.
“Well hurry up!” Nancy snapped in mock outrage. She clapped her hands at Annie sharply, but was smiling broadly as she did so. While Nancy was Korean, with delicate features Annie felt were elegant; classical. Her expressions and manner were entirely Chicago. She even spoke out of the side of her mouth at times – usually when making a joke, like now.
Annie got busy, but not without noticing that Nancy looked fantastic. She was in skin tight jeans and a pretty white blouse, had done her long black hair in a French braid and was wearing makeup. Checking out Michele who – just before her shower had said that she was going to wear “idunnosomethingcomfy” – was at the mirror putting on eyeliner. Annie saw she was wearing low rise jeans and a satin top that Annie had never seen before, but thought it made her breast look supernatural. Nancy had clearly upped the game with her outfit.
For herself, Annie pulled on a pair of leggings and chose a panel dress her mother had given her that she liked because it flared and came down to just above her knees. not too sort, not too long. But she almost never wore it because it had no shoulders and was tight across her chest – while Annie had tiny breast she was very self conscious about her nipples, which were big when erect, standing out like pebbles, embarrassing her if she wasn’t careful about what she wore.
So over it she wore her favorite sweater. She’d found it in a vintage shop. It was knit from thick warm-gray wool, oversized (of course) a little asymmetrical and formless – someone had clearly made it by hand. Across the front, a little lower than you’d expect, an oddly shaped serif font spelled out “Joy Divison” in dark scarlet letters. They weren’t embroidered on after the sweater had been finished, the scarlet yarn had been painstakingly added to the warp and weft. She thought it was simultaneously the saddest and coolest thing.
Nancy groaned dramatically as she joined Michele at their little mirror to do her eyes and lips. The taller girl looked at her in the mirror as she applied a bright red lipstick. Although she didn’t do anything suggestive Annie saw herself starting to blush as she looked back at Michele and applied lipgloss that smelled like cherry hard candy. Annie almost never wore makeup, her mother’s disapproval too powerful a deterrent – even at a distance – but she loved how mascara made her eyes look, and indulged herself guilty on special occasions. Like tonight.
Clunky boots finished out her ensemble – giving it a Tank Girl frisson – just as Nancy all but pushed them out the door.
The girls smoked a bowl as they walked to the AV. The other girls howled with laughter when Michele noticed the spelling mistake on Annie’s sweater, which pleased her immensely.
As they entered the AV department Nancy warned them in a stage whisper that the Film Club was a “total fucking sausage party” but Annie was relieved to see the crowd was pretty evenly split between boys and girls. And perhaps it was because the college had historically been an all-girls school, the boys here, as a group, were much different from the boys she had grown up around. They didn’t dominate the kaçak iddaa conversation in classes, seemed milder in social setting, were generally more likable – as a group.
As it was, the club was a relatively small group of kids. Annie was surprised to see the screen was enormous and there were real theater seats, because the screening room was only big enough to hold a couple dozen students. By the time the light went down the room was full, with a couple late arrivers settling in on the floor.
The girls sat together, with Nancy in the middle. They’re brought drinks, and there was pop corn. Nancy seemed to know most of the other students there. She’d joined the club the year before.
“I like to watch.” She’d deadpanned when Michele asked if she was a film buff. Annie had stared at the screen, her ears burning as the lights had gone down.
They’d started by showing a few shorts. A black and white French film about a time traveler. It had been almost entirely a slideshow of stills, Annie had loved it. A Roman Polanski film, about two men moving a dresser that she’d thought was nihilistic and mean spirited. And then the Muppets singing Queen’s “Bohemian Rhapsody”, which everyone had cheered and laughed loudly through.
The faculty advisor, a thin bearded man, had then given a short overview of who Quentin Tarantino was and a summery of his “oeuvre”, and the film had started. They were blown away. Annie had been afraid she might pee she’d laughed so hard. She and Nancy and Michele had all screamed in shock, clutched each other in horror, and slapped at one another’s legs and arms in abject hysteria.
Afterwards there had been a small but very noisy reception. Everyone talking loud and fast and at once; so many excited happy faces. Towards the end Annie had gotten cornered by a giant boy named Shawn (Annie always seemed to attracted the giant boys, which she decidedly did not like). Shawn was explaining how, because his films were so violent, Tarantino was accused of being immoral, but in fact they actually expressed a coherent moral code. Annie nodded and hmmed at all the appropriate moments, but felt certain the giant was repeating something he’d read or been told in a class. She was very glad when Nancy and Michele had come laughing hysterically and rescued her. Pulling her away by her wrists, without explanation or apology to Shawn.
On the way back to the dorm, Nancy had skipped and danced and spun herself in circles in front of them as they walked. They all laughed and recounted their favorite parts of the movie.
“I liked the part about the foot rub.” Annie told them, stealing a sly look at Michele.
Annie thought of the joke as she looked into Michele’s eyes now. She had pulled herself very close to the other girl. Michele’s upturned chin was resting against the base of her sternum. Annie’s arms wrapped around her head, brushing and caressing the dampness from her long thick mane.
Michele’s skin was still moist and flush from her shower. Her hair steamed and the heat radiating off of her body was warming Annie’s belly. She must have taken a long, very hot shower. As this occurred to to Annie, Michele shrugged her robe off her shoulders, letting it slide down her arms, exposing the rounded tops of her breasts, but stopping before it slipped over her nipples. Annie’s mouth grew cool and wet as she looked down on them. Looking back to Michele’s face she thought she could actually see the other girls pupils dilating with excitement; lust turning her eyes black. Annie shuddered. Thought of Nancy.
When the three of them got back to their rooms, they were all still wide awake. Nancy asked if they wanted to get high, Michele said yes and invited Nancy in. Nancy looked at Annie – for permission? – and she had smiled and nodded for her to come in.
Nancy sat with Michele on her bed and started packing the little glass bowl. Annie kicked off her boots, threw them the pillow from her bed, turned on her electric kettle, and trotted down the hall to rinse their cups. When she got back the overheads were off and the room was already smokey. The girls were leaning against the wall with the pillows. Michele had changed out of her jeans into her old man pajamas and was laughing at something Nancy had just said. Annie set the tea to steep, thinking how much she liked the sound of Michele’s laughter.
Looking at her smiling face Annie realized she had heard Michele laugh and seen her smile more tonight then she had in the past three weeks combined. Annie stripped off her leggings and sweater, as she mulled that realization, wondering what it meant. Putting it aside, she joined the other girls on Michele’s bed, kneeling between the two of them, facing them with her feet hanging off the edge of the mattress. Michele handed her the bowl, and she took her usual little puff, handing it to Nancy.
“No” Nancy told her, refusing to take the bowl. “Hold your finger over the little hole.”
Annie looked over the little kaçak bahis pipe, found the hole and did as instructed.
“Now when you inhale-” Nancy’s brow furrowed. “You know what-” She stopped again, seemed to measure Annie with her eyes. “Never mind. Give it to me.” she commanded.
Confused Annie handed it over. “Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. I am going to take a hit, and then you are going to take the hit from me, then you are going to give the hit to Michele. Okay?”
Annie was still confused, but Michele smiled at her reassuringly, so she nodded. Both Michele and Nancy had then shifted their legs underneith them, so they were kneeling on either side of Annie on the bed, their thighs bracketing hers.
Annie looked uncertainly at Michele who smiled again and nodded. She turned to Nancy gave her a quick nod.
Nancy lit the little pipe and took a long slow hit, she then reached over and gently took Annie by the back of the neck pulling their faces together.
Michele who was leaning in as well whispered conspiratorially “She’s going to blow the the smoke into your mouth. As she does, inhale slowly.”
Nancy tilted her head and pursed her lips, like she was going to kiss her, and Annie understanding now, had mirrored her move.
“Open your mouth Annie” Michele whispered, her voice suddenly husky.
Annie did as she was told.
Nancy’s grip on the back of her neck became firmer, and she moved forward pressing her lips over Annie’s open mouth. Locked together, she began to gently exhale into Annie’s mouth. Annie slowly inhaled as instructed. As Nancy finished “passing” the hit she released Annie’s neck, passing her to Michele, whose hand replaced Nancy’s, her finger took hold of Annie’s hair, pulling her towards her parted lips.
Annie opened her mouth as their lips met, and began exhale as gently as Nancy had. Michele held her much tighter than Nancy had, forcefully pressing their lips together, her teeth biting at Annie’s teeth. She felt Michele begin drawing her breath, and as she did, she felt Michele’s jaw relax and release their hold on her teeth. Then the great muscle of her tongue slid across Annie’s teeth and entered her mouth rolling around hers.
Michele’s eyes were open but hooded with lust. Annie felt she must have looked like a deer caught in headlights, but her tongue worked to keep up with Michele’s, and then, as her breath began to fail, she felt Michele’s great thick tongue withdrawal, her lips closing. The hold on her hair relaxing.
She watched then as Michele turned to Nancy, who leaned forward lips parted. The two met over Annie’s folded legs. She leaned back and watched as they kissed deeply and shared breath.
Nancy pulled away from Michele, reached out, and again pulled Annie towards her. This time, as Annie drew her breath Nancy kissed her. Her tongue was much smaller than Michele’s, a pointy little thing, moving slow, almost measured, around Annie’s tongue. Her hand still on the back of Annie’s neck, she caressed Annie’s face with the other.
As her lungs filled Annie was passed back to Michele. Who holding her again by the hair, made only a halfhearted attempt to draw Annie’s breath, and instead just kissed her long and hard. Annie luxuriated in the moment. The feeling of Michele’s full lips pressed against hers, the smokey flavor, their tongues frantically pushing against each other. Michele’s grip on her hair loosen.
When there lips finally parted, Annie turned to Nancy, smiled wickedly and said “Again!”
She could tell from the looks on their faces she’d caught both Nancy and Michele totally off guard. They’d all three burst out laughing. Nancy meanwhile had complied. Lighting the little pipe and staring into Annie’s eyes as she drew a long deep hit. Blindly handing the pipe to Michele she rose up onto her knees towards Annie, who’d risen up on hers to meet her.
They’d locked lips and embraced. Annie began to inhale the smoke from Nancy’s lungs as their tongues played and their hands groped. Nancy’s breasts weren’t as big as Michele’s but they were much bigger than Annie’s, and they were wonderfully soft. Annie could feel her hard nipples jabbing into them. Nancy’s ass meanwhile was the tiniest of “bubble butts”. Annie could easily hold the whole thing in her hands.
As they separated Nancy gasped, looking a little dazed. Annie turned her face to Michele, who was waiting for her, her pupils dilated, her eyes looked black as she pounced. Annie’s breathed gently into her mouth but there was nothing gentle about Michele’s embrace. She held Annie’s hair in a fist, clenching and unclenching, but never letting go. Michele seemed to be fucking her mouth with her meaty tongue. Annie responded by sucking it like a cock. Meanwhile she felt the full bruising force of Michele’s strength as she pressed and grabbed and scratched at Annie’s body with her free hand.
Michele had until that moment never expressed any interest in Annie’s body, had never touched it until then, or even looked at it as far as Annie knew. Under the onslaught she went rigid with pleasure as the stronger girl pinched her nipples, clawed at her ass, scratched her back and at her thighs.
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