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Christian College Sex Comedy: Part 17

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Christian College Sex Comedy: Part 17
I Need A Bigger Bed?

In 30 parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the

podcast at Explicit
Novels.



           

Being dead is wonderful; you never get tired and you have all the time in the
world to regret how you ended up this way     

Yes, Rio," Mercy wiggled in even tighter, "you can

annoy me whenever you want."

I was starting to seriously work over Heaven's butthole when

I caught Barbie Lynn move her lips over to Rio's ear.

"You rock," Barbie Lynn whispered to my 'Bro'. Rio

kept her eyes shut but grunted in disgust. She was a stone-cold pitiless
bad-ass who cared about nothing and nobody, just ask her.

"Are you putting your whole god-damn fist up my

ass?" Heaven hissed.

"That's my thumb, ya big baby," I quietly teased.

We owed it to our bed buddies to keep the noise down as much as possible.

"That's right, Big Daddy, tear my poor little hinny

up," she pouted devilishly. She was on top so she had to press her tits
hard against me to whisper in my ear. "Next time I want to be alone so you
can treat me like your dog-bitch, press my face into a pillow to stifle my
screams, and drill me deeper than you've ever reached before."

"Are you trying to make me cum before I even get inside

you?" I gasped.

"Oh, God, no," Heaven squeaked. "Don't you

dare, please," she begged. "You make me feel so good. I'm sorry I
teased you. We can take it slow if you want."

"If you want to make me happier, play with yourself and

let me feel it," I breathed.

Heaven struggled for words before giving up and grunting.

Her hips shook as she accelerated her hand's manipulations of her cock, which
rested tightly against my stomach. At the same time, I switched up my one thumb
with three fingers in her rectum. Heaven gave a choked whimper as she took my
intrusion tentatively, then pushed down even harder.

As my bulbous head pressed past her sphincter, Heaven

hiccupped and tears welled in her eyes.

"I, I, did the calculations," she gulped. "If

I, have sex with you, every twelve hours, my rectum will, adjust so sex, will
be more, fun."

"You figured this all out?" I teased.

"Purely scientific, I swear," she grinned.

"It is, not because, I want to, fuck you, all the time."

"I respect you for your mind, Heaven, but this time I

think you might be too close to the subject matter," I tickled her back.
She took hold of my cock.

"Too close to this," she gulped. I swiveled my

hips back and forth, sending my cock deeper and deeper into Heaven. She
eventually gave up any hopes of a coherent argument and curled herself onto my
chest, panting.

"Hello, Lover," I told her in near silence.

"Thank you, my Bitch," she responded between

kisses to the line where the jaw meets the throat. The rest of what either one
of us wanted to say was lost as I rocked my hips up, propelling my cock even
deeper into her bowels.

Heaven clawed at my chest as her sexual tension ramped up.

Eventually, our symmetry brought Heaven struggling to the end of her road.

"Boyfriend, boyfriend, boyfriend," she gurgled.

"He's my Boyfriend!" she screamed. At least she didn't use my name,
unless you counted the fact that I was the only boy on campus.

"Oh, damn," Heaven gasped for air. "Thanks

for bringing me back, Zane." We kissed passionately. "Thanks for the,
attitude adjustment too."

"Huh?" I wondered. I'd heard the term before but

not from someone who regularly talked with Heaven.

"Iona posted the slang," Heaven gasped-giggled. I shifted

my head from the right side of Heaven's head to the left. My shock must have
registered with Heaven, whose gaze went from my face to looking over her
shoulder to the form of Gabrielle Black. Heaven scrambled off me and pulled the
sheets tight.

Shades of Gabrielle Black

"We need to talk, Zane Braxton." I saw Gabrielle's

lips move but I was pretty sure the words floated across the room without
disturbing the ears of anyone around us. I gave her a nod, planted on Heaven a
reassuring, full-on kiss, then quick-stepped over to a wardrobe and put on a
robe. She followed me out, keeping a keen eye on me while mostly hanging in my
blind spot.

Vivian was sound asleep as we passed her. I took Gabrielle

to the far corner of the Solarium, locating a remote control when we were
close. Ms. Black gave me a fatally cold look as I punched in the code that
would give us a dead zone electronically to talk in.

"Surveillance," I held up the remote. She

understood the implications.

"I want to see more of your so-called gift with

women." I had no doubt this was not a sexual come-on. I would have been a
hell of a lot happier if it was; instead, it put me in a situation I knew very
little about.

"Strip," I requested, with as much calm as I could

instill in my voice. Gabrielle gave me a lightning assessment, then started
shedding her perpetually black outerwear and lingerie.

When she finished, the words 'Hot Damn' came up a ton of

times unbidden to my thoughts. I worked out regularly, took martial arts, and
stretched whenever I could. I might as well have been a coach potato as far as
Gabrielle was concerned. She wasn't bulky; rather, strong in the long muscles
that counted more for strength and stamina. I still managed to have the courage
to ask her to extend her arms and spread her legs.

Hell, I even touched her ass, thigh, and caressed the right

shoulder twice. When I finished up, I was before her once more. I leaned on the
back of a chair and waited, I had taken five minutes, where in most cases it
took seconds, but this woman's body wove deceptions like a champion.

"Well?" she finally gave in to her curiosity

before I gave in to my fear.

"Well, I imagine the most important thing to you at

this second is the wrists. I did spend some time in a high-pressure private
academy in my formative years and I know the difference between horizontal and
vertical. Horizontal cuts on the wrist are a cry for help, vertical show a real
desire to die."

"Now, I can't know for sure that you didn't make two

attempts but you look like you're insanely intense, emphasis on the insane, so
I guess some fucked up shit happened to you that made you damn sure the only
answer was to check out permanently," I stated evenly.

"What now?" she questioned me, her intonation

utterly devoid of emotion or compassion.

"I'd like to tell you what I tell every other woman I

learn a secret about, that your past is your business and your business
alone," I sighed.

"But?" she prodded me.

"Gabrielle, your body is a roadmap of pain, suffering,

and death," I shrugged, "and there is no damn way you came to this
school legally."

Gabrielle studied me in a way that made an icy fist grasp my

heart.

"Of course, I am hardly a poster child for someone who

does belong at FFU. Are you going to kill me now or do you want me to
continue?" I inquired hopefully.

"Mr. Braxton, Zane, the wiring in this place is

sub-standard and clearly unauthorized. I would choke you unconscious, put you
in the hot tub, then electrocute you," she informed me with the air of a
professor describing the events of tenth century Anglo-Saxon England.

"I will not do this right now because you are terrified

of me, which shows a great deal of insight and intelligence, somewhat
remarkable in someone so young," she added.

"Okay. Something allowed you to slip past the Psych Evaluation

to get into someone's military; I could put that down to being experience with
the system plus being clever enough to fool the testers," I said.

"Once inside, something fucked up your perception of

authority, something not good. I figure you are obsessed with physical defense,
bi-sexual, yet your sexual attitude toward me is one of contempt. Since you
don't know me enough to hold me in contempt yet, you were abused by a man in
authority over you," I delivered the bad news. Gabrielle did not respond.

"This is total conjecture but it patches in with what

comes later; you entered some kind of actual combat duty. You learned not only
that you were good at killing but you liked it. It substituted for sexual
release and that whole risk-pain thing you have kept until today. I count six
bullet wounds, a knife wound on the back above the right kidney, and two things
I guess are shrapnel wounds but I've never seen any before to compare," I
added.

"I imagine you got out of the regular service because

the level of your medical care diminished for a while, then, Bang!, you got
this expensive plastic surgery. You do okay for maybe three years, then you
pick up that nick in your left ankle, followed by the shoulder getting
done," I said.

"No indications of why these two injuries?" she

narrowed her eyes.

"I'm going to go all James Bond on you. Gabrielle Black

fell for somebody hard and I'm betting it was a woman. It is kind of
frightening to think of what kind of psycho she was to lure you in and trap
you," A light flickered in her eyes when I went down this path. "You
guarded her, became very close to her as a parade of lovers passed through her
life until she sucked you in."

"One day you found yourself killing for her and I doubt

you asked why. I doubt there was only one time but in the end, it was never
enough. One night you came back and found this year's model on the payroll.
Gabrielle Black is way too smart to wait for this to play out. You loved her
but you liked living more, so you escaped before you were introduced to your
employer's retirement plan," I grimaced.

"You came back to the United States, your accent

indicates time in France or Italy, and this job fell into your lap. Lancaster,
Virginia is out of the way enough for you to hide in while close enough to
several major cities for you to move around if you need to, so you edit your
work record and hire on at an all-girls university," I finished.
"What now?"

"I don't kill you and Vivian. Making two deaths look like

an accident would be incredibly difficult; murder-suicide would only make your
female cohorts dig deeper and there are some serious advantages in staying here
for me," she stated. Sensing my confusion, she clarified. "Vivian has
been awake for some time observing us but I doubt she can hear what we are
saying."

Gabrielle finished redressing; she gave me a once-over.

"My turn. What makes you hard? Seriously, you have been

perpetually aroused since I've met you," she mused.

"There is a bit of a list: fear, joy, sunlight,

moonlight, sex, the impossibility of sex, I informed her.

"I understand," Gabrielle cut me off. "Who

are you going to tell?"

"Christina Buchanan, Cordelia Dresden, and Dana

Gorman." I decided that lying would do me worse than no good; I might get
one or two lies past Gabrielle and this wasn't the time to waste one.

"Good enough. But if there are repercussions from

tonight, I will feel far less tolerant toward you," she made sure I
understood. I was happy that this looked like a painless parting of the ways.

"Thank you," I spoke to her retreating form. She

looked over her shoulder questioningly. "For taking me seriously," I
explained. She gave a curt nod, turned, and departed. Vivian pretended to be
asleep when I returned to bed and I let her. It seemed like the rare sane thing
for me to do.

Say 'Lesbian Bikers' at your own peril.

           

Mankind is poison because we compromise our souls for
the companionship of others  

"Vivian, I'm going to take a shower," I whispered

to Vivian. I was hovering over her from the back of the sofa-sleeper, asking
permission to take my shower downstairs. She was laid out beneath me, her
jersey bunched up around her breasts and her left thumb hooked into the band of
her shorts and pushing them dangerously down.

"Umm," she sighed, a little smile tilting her

lips.

"Honey, I need your permission to use the downstairs

shower," I continued. I wisped across her lips with my own. Her smile
blossomed into full-blown pleasure.

"Okay, I'm getting up, I'm getting up," she

moaned.

Vivian slowly opened her eyes as she stretched and twisted

her body to wakefulness.

"Good morning, Zane," she yawned with this

adorable little grin on her face.

"You look beautiful," I complimented quietly.

"Umm, thank you," she purred. "You look,

Zane! What are you doing?" she bolted upright, barely missing a
head-on-head collision.

"I'm asking you permission to go down to the fifth

floor and take a shower," I repeated.

"Why didn't you simply sneak past me?" she propped

herself up on her elbows.

"I said I would wait on your decision, so I waited. Can

I please, please do something," I pleaded, "before I go nuts?"

"Umm, okay," Vivian said cautiously. I reached

down to her midsection and she flinched so I held back. No word passed for
several seconds so I resumed my journey to her pushed up sleeping jersey and
slowly pulled it down until her stomach and crotch were covered.

"Zane," Vivian sighed, "could you control

your hormones for thirty minutes, when you are awake?"

"I have to go now," I stood up, "because

covering you up didn't make you any less attractive."

"Zane," Vivian came off the sofa and followed me,

"you should attempt to look at a woman as a fellow follower of Christ and
less in terms of beautiful and ugly and you might be happier. Go take a
shower." She's telling me this with an earnest warm face and finely
sculpted legs that disappear right below the crotch into that billowing Dallas
Cowboys shirt.

"Go on and fuck the bitch," Rio growled as she

traipsed by with Mercy's hand on her shoulder. Barbie Lynn came slowly limping
behind. Barbie flashed me a grin and I raced to catch up. At the bottom of the
stairs something occurred to me.

"Hon, where is your towel?" I asked Barbie Lynn.

She shot me an apologetic smile.

I stepped behind Barbie Lynn, ran a hand along her hip to

the curve of her stomach and kissed her on the neck.

"Take mine; I'll catch up," I chuckled. I draped

my towel over her shoulder and bounded up the stairs.

At the top of the stairs I stumbled to a stop. Vivian had only

then finished taking off her jersey and was holding it in her left hand. The
bottom of the shirt scrapped the ground. Vivian looked at me, neither shocked,
ashamed, nor outraged. Her breasts were freaking gorgeous, fully round,
buoyant, and with a miniscule droop. Her pale blue panties left little to the
imagination, her cunt lips clearly camel toed.

"I apologize," I quickly spun away and raced to my

sleep area. I grabbed a towel and headed straight for the stairs.

"Zane, it is okay," Vivian called out. She'd

covered her breasts and diaphragm with the jersey.

"Huh?"

"I don't mind; I know you didn't mean to see me so I'm

not offended and I don't feel you went back on your word," she related
with a sense of grace. I wasn't truly sure of what word I hadn't gone back on
but she appeared happy.

"Does that mean you can flash me your ta-ta's guilt

free?" I asked hopefully.

Vivian regarded me with amusement.

"Zane, constantly being distracted by unbridled

sexuality will not leave you content," she lectured me patiently. We
regarded each other for some time. "Is there anything else I can do for
you?"

"If you are going to offer, could you come over here,

turn around, bend over, grab your ankles and finally look past your thigh at
me?" I cringed.

She shook her head, regarded me once, then rolled her eyes.

"I may not be able to save you but I'm not going to

shove you down to damnation either," she stated firmly.

"Do it; I won't take advantage of you and I'll tell you

a valuable secret," I offered.

Lesbian Bikers

Normally my chance of success with Vivian and that line was

nil, but the convergence of a Gabrielle's midnight visit and her desire to show
me that trust and honesty could exist without a sexual context brought her to
me. She slowly turned around and assumed my desired position. I rabidly wanted
to step up to her, gently slip her panties aside and take her cunt with deep
languid strokes.

"Please stand up," I groaned. Once she was up I

leaned into her ear. "You are not a virgin," I whispered carefully.
Vivian tensed slightly. "All it means to me is that you know what you are
talking about when you mention sexuality and I have to treat you with more
respect. I apologize for prying." She twisted to face me and was about to
say something but I put a finger to her lips to silence her.

"People are listening," I cautioned her quietly.

"Thank you for that," Vivian whispered. "It

was one time in high school and we had exchanged Promise Rings. It was a
mistake we both regret."

"It's all cool," I grinned. "I kind of wish

your first time had turned you into a wild sex monkey and you and your beau
planned on having five hundred kids, but we're good."

"Zane," Vivian sounded exasperated, "I pity

the woman you decide to marry."

"What?" I acted shocked, "I would never cheat

on my wife."

"Oh, I believe you, but I fear the poor woman would die

from exhaustion," she scolded me.

"She'd die happy?" I offered up as my only

defense.

"Lord, give me strength," Vivian groaned. "Go

take a shower."

"Gotchya, Boss," I beamed happily. I turned half

way to the door, then gave a backward glance. "Vivian, if you ever need
anything, just ask."

"I, ." she was about to scold me but she stopped

and sighed. "Fine, Zane, I know you mean well; now go." I winked and
raced away. I could swear Vivian believed she was getting a crash course in
Mothering a Teenage Boy.

Biker Bar Horror Story

It had been a hard day of first-round semester testing plus

restructuring the Marksmanship and Orienteering Clubs. I still managed to get
in sufficient studying (in my opinion) for Friday's round of activities. At
lunch I had a little talk with Cordelia and Christina about Gabrielle Black and
their fears concerning her. I really wish both women hadn't looked so
concerned. I would have preferred they called me paranoid instead.

I was sitting watching some bizarre sitcom rerun with an arm

around Iona when Rio came rocketing up the stairs.

"Hey, Princess," she screamed at me (in case

anyone has missed it, Rio is a freak), "Val found out about a Biker bar
called the Dixie Roadhouse and we're heading there. Do you want in?"

I looked down to Iona who, despite a look of fearful

concern, gave me a nod of consent.

"Sure thing, Rio," I said, as I popped over the

sofa and pulled Iona along after me.

"Zane, you are not going out to a bar," Vivian

rose to the challenge. "You are only eighteen."

"If I don't go, we may not get Rio back," I

cautioned my guardian.

"Speaking of which: Rio, where is Mercy?" Vivian

rounded on my 'Bro'.

"I ambushed her: hit her in the head with the Gutenberg

Bible and tied her to the back of Valerie's hog," Rio smiled proudly.
Pulling Iona along with me, I pursued Rio down the stairs.

"I promise I'll bring them all back," I shouted to

Vivian. She was kind enough not to chase me down and make me stay.

The Dixie Roadhouse looked like some sort of converted barn

with a few cobbled together outbuildings. Mine was probably not the first car
to grace this dirt parking lot but it was definitely rare to have a ride with
four wheels parked here. I had Rio and Mercy with me. Of course, Mercy had not
been beaten and tied up for tonight's outing. Iona had ridden gleefully on the
back of Val's bike.

"This is going to be epic," Rio exulted.

"That's right," I joked tragically. "We are

five teenagers in school uniforms going into a place that constantly lays down
new sawdust to cover up all the blood."

"Hey, Sissy-Boy," Rio punched me, "this is on

my Bucket List, so don't wimp out on me now."

We quickly paired up, Rio with Mercy and Iona with me. Val,

Valkyrie went in alone as she felt that would increase her odds of survival.
She also wore her Stormriders' patch and colors. Unfortunately, the rest of her
gang was two thousand miles away.

"Rio," Valerie coughed as she handed Rio a

switchblade. Rio snickered, flipped the blade out several times in quick
succession before stealthily stashing it into her waist band.

'Thank God,' I thought, 'she actually knows how to use a

knife.' The double doors leading into the bar/club were propped open so we
migrated in as a group. People didn't stop and stare but they managed a
passable job of telling us to 'get the hell out' with their eyes alone. Valerie
led us to the bar where the lone bartender took his time getting to us.

The guy was going for the chest hair with a black leather

vest look along with copious amounts of facial hair.

"We don't serve kids," he growled out when he

stopped in front of Valkyrie.

"We are not high school kids, we are not cops; we are

college kids who need a damn drink, not a lecture. So are you going to give us
shit or a beer, because there must be a dozen lame college dumps we can go
slumming at."

"Who are you?" he grumbled.

"Valkyrie, Stormriders," Valerie answered.

"What is your name?" he persisted.

"Valerie Palmer," she shrugged.

"Are you kin of Mad Dog Palmer?" he inquired.

"Dude, no one calls him Mad Dog who wants to live, and

he's my grandfather," she smiled.

"Got it," the bartender gave a sinister grin.

"What are you doing here?"

"My Dad divorced my Mom and became a born again

Christian," she informed the guy.

"Harsh; so are these kids yours?" he asked;

meaning the rest of us.

"They are not members but I consider them my

associates," Valkyrie allowed. The bartender shrugged and started handing
out beers. Val pulled out a roll of bills and paid for our first round. Val and
I took slow steady pulls on our drinks.

Rio downed hers in two chugs. Mercy and Iona took tentative

sips and made disgusted faces as a result. I paid for Rio's second round.

"It tastes awful," Iona whispered to me.

"Pretend you are drinking it then. Beer is not for

everyone," I assured her, and letting her see my smile dispelled any
thought that I felt less of her for being different.

"Rio," Mercy tried next.

"Drink it," Rio demanded. "Do it, and I'll

screw you with the bottle; don't, and I'll pour it over your head and
shirt." Mercy choked on her response and took a swig of beer. "You
annoy the hell out of me, Mercy," Rio reacted in a warmer tone.

I looked at Valerie; she looked to me and nodded. Things

could be working out far worse. I noticed six biker babes playing pool off in
the darkest corner. I didn't think they were a problem but two of them kept
giving me the eye. I hoped my current group of women would provide me
shielding.

A group of ten bikers came rolling into the place, laughing,

punching, and doing other masculine bonding rituals. They noted the five
out-of-place newcomers at the bar but didn't seem put out until I saw these two
guys in the pack and they saw me. We had a bit of history that went all the way
back to a bad night for me on a bench in a communal jail cell.

Perhaps I suggested that if they didn't get out of my way, I

would shove their heads through the bars of the cell. I was in for two counts
of assault and they were in for minor drug possession so they backed down. By
the look on their faces, they remembered that night, oh, fuck.

"Guys!" I cried out. I came off my stool and

quickly walked up to the closer of the two. He actually took a step back into
one of his buddies.

"It is good to see you, Man," I kept grinning. I

stepped up, put my left hand on his right elbow to propel his hand up. I
clasped his palm and shook it, chest to chest.

"A week ago we were all in lock-up together, I was

totally wasted, and this guy and his buddy (I nodded to the second guy) saved
my ass. Let me buy all of you guys the first two rounds," I offered.

The guy who was clearly the dominant member gave my 'buddy'

a look. He figured something wasn't right but he didn't know what it was. The
two bikers in the cell hadn't talked about their facedown with some college kid
since they'd backed off without a fight.

"That's about right, Zane," the guy holding my

hand said. "Those two guys get out of the hospital?" he continued as
we walked as a group to the bar.

"Yeah, I administered a warning more than a

lesson," I shrugged. "I wanted them to leave my ladies alone. The
point was made. The whole jail thing was the Sheriff getting me back for a
fight I was in the previous weekend but no one pressed charges."

That earned me some knowing chuckles. Beers were handed out;

I paid for this round and the next, my heart finally calming down from the near
catastrophe.

"Gus, what's with the little girls?" the leader

addressed the bartender. He titled his head toward Valkyrie. Her colors gave
her the higher status.

"The little one is with Zane and those two (Rio and

Mercy) are together," Valarie answered deadpan. The big guy put his hand
on Iona's shoulder while looking at me.

"Mind if I take your girl for a dance," he didn't

ask, he told me.

"You take your hand off of her and I'll forget you

touched my girl," I stated with a quiet calm coming over me.

"If I don't?" he taunted me.

"I don't play twenty questions," I warned him.

"Seriously, dude, you want to get into a fight over a

girl barely out of a training bra?" Valerie tried to make light of the
situation. "She's his sister."

The leader let go of Iona and stepped back.

"She's your sister? Why in the hell did you bring you

sister to this place?" he was curious.

"Are you trying to tell me this place isn't 'family

friendly'?" I grinned, finally taking a real breath.

"That's a fucked-up way to look at things but yes, I

guess it is," he chuckled. He reached past Iona and took his beer.
Everyone around us relaxed again.

"What were you going to do?" he idly asked me.

"Since you had your left hand on Iona and your right

was going for that steel rod you use as a sap, I was going crush your trachea
then introduce your forehead to the bar," I explained.

"That might have killed me," he noted.

"Nothing personal, but I had nine more bodies to put

down," I reminded him.

"I would have given us better than even odds that we

would be getting out of here," Valerie joined in.

"So you really kicked Dog-Boy and Sticks off their

bench?" he changed direction. Apparently, then, some in the gang did know.

"They were a bit stoned and I was really pissed

off," I exaggerated.

"That makes sense; they are idiots," the leader

grinned. A group of four more bikers with the same colors as the current crop
came in.

The guy we'd been talking with and five others broke off and

headed to the rear of the establishment to seats around two circular tables.
The four guys remaining gathered around Rio and Mercy. One guy put a hand on
Mercy's shoulder.

"Come on out and see my ride," he grinned at a

surprisingly calm Mercy.

"Hands off," Rio sneered, "I own the

bitch." That caused the four men to look at each other.

"Don't worry, I rent her out from time to time,"

Rio acted nonchalant. Two of the guys closed in, one running a hand down
Mercy's shoulder and thigh while the other put a hand on each of her hips.

"How much?" he growled. "We can take her into

the bathroom right now."

"Nope," Rio shrugged. "She's got tests at

school tomorrow and I've got her busy all weekend long, but write down your
number and I'll call you. Zane, pen." I tossed Rio a pen who handed it to
the biggest biker.

The guy looked Rio, then to her hand.

"No," Rio snickered. "Mercy, off the stool

and lean over the bar," she emphasized with a slap to the ass. Mercy
scrambled to obey. Rio smiled at the dude then flipped Mercy's skirt up, wedged
her already slender lacy underwear into her ass crack. Rio smacked a cheek.
"Here you go."

"Hell, ya," he laughed, as he scrawled his name

and number over Mercy's proffered ass cheek. "Are you sure you are going
to remember this?"

"Oh, yeah; I'm going to be pounding this ass most of

the night when I get her home," Rio told him.

"I thought you said she had tests tomorrow," the

third guy joked.

"So do I, and that means I've got a lot of stress to

work through," Rio grinned shark-like. "She's going to have to suck
it up." That earned another round of laughs. "You really, truly annoy
the hell out of me, Mercy," Rio snorted. Mercy resumed her barstool,
turned to face Rio and sipped her beer once more. The warming radiance of
Mercy's smile was both tragic and sweet.

I stole a look toward Iona who had a wide-eyed curious look

about her and ended up at Valarie, who looked relieved enough to finally put
her back to the bar and look around. We were into our second beer (still Iona
and Mercy's first and Rio's fourth) when our sense of ease began floundering.
One of the biker chicks that had been playing pool came over to get a round of
beers for her outfit.

"Candy-ass whores," the woman taunted Rio as she

picked up the six beers and walked away. Rio looked to me, somewhat confused
and then outraged, and ended up with a glance to Valarie.

"What did you say?" Rio sounded disarmingly

curious to the biker chick.

"You heard me," the woman scoffed.

Rio was off the stool like a shot and brought her beer down

on the biker chick's head.

"Iona, stay close behind me," I hissed. I motioned

to Mercy to get her attention. Before the woman could right herself, Rio kicked
her in the thigh. As she stumbled forward, all of her beers crashed to the
sawdust on the ground.

Since the target of her wrath wasn't face-planting fast

enough, Rio linked her fists together and hammer-slammed the chick between the
shoulder blades; down she went.

"I told you to repeat what you said, Bitch!" Rio

screamed as she kicked the fallen woman in the ribs.

At that point, three of the biker chick's closest companions

descended on Rio and pulled her away. Valarie gestured to me to stay seated and
I got Mercy's attention and kept her on her stool as well.

"Hold her up," growled the biker girl Rio had

decked.

"What did you say, Bitch?" Rio snarled right back.

"Lose the bull-dykes and I'll make you taste my shoe leather."

"She's trying to get killed," Valarie whispered to

me. Iona tensed with fear.

"No, she's trying to get us all killed," I

responded softly.

"Let's take her outside," the first biker babe

suggested as Rio struggled and kicked, attempting to free herself.

"No," a different girl directed. "Let's take her

to the john; I have an idea." The other women laughed and began dragging
Rio away.

"Zane!" Rio called out, "We are about to have

a Leather Lesbian Slut orgy. Join in anytime you like." That was my cue to
get my ass kicked. I moved to intervene, Val on my left between me and the
worst of the crowd, Mercy to my right, and Iona taking up the rear. Sadly, a
guy around my height but with a beer gut decided that I wasn't going to have an
easy time of it.

"No, you don't," he threatened. It was pretty

clear four or five other guys were ready to jump in. Rio's cursing form
disappeared behind the doors. I didn't have much time before Rio incensed the
biker chicks so much they throttled her.

"Do you have a gun?" I asked with as much patience

as I could muster.

He grinned evilly, pulled back his vest, and showed me the

automatic he had stuck into his belt. I waited until his hand released the vest
and moved toward his hip. I snatched the gun, flipped it around and rammed the
barrel into his stomach. The only sound in the place was the four overhead fans
and some Chris Rock wannabe belting it out over the stereo system.

Rio's screams were becoming shriller.

"I don't appreciate you pointing a gun at one of my

brothers," a different man said. He was one of the group of four that had
arrived earlier but I had the impression he was 'somebody'.

"I'm really busy right now but I promise to deal with

you when I retrieve my friend; okay?"

I didn't wait for his response because I was sure it would

suck.

"Do you want me to feed you your gun back one bullet at

a time?" I prodded the guy I had the gun on? He looked around for the
moral support from his gang members.

"Do it and you are dead," he countered with what I

felt was false bravado.

"That will hardly do you any good," I grinned as I

cocked the hammer back. "Do you want your gun back?"

"Ah, yes?" the biker gulped.

"Are you going to let me get my girl and get her out of

here?" I asked.

"Ah, sure?" he seemed confused. I un-cocked the

gun, flipped the handhold around and offered him his piece, grip first. No one
appeared to know what to make of that. As if expecting a trick, the guy moved
slowly. When he took it, I made to move past him.

"You be careful now," I told him. He cocked the

gun and pressed it into the side of my ribs.

"Fuck you," he managed to get out before the

'click' and the point of Valkyrie's blade dug into his jugular, drawing a line
of blood.

"You really are too fucking stupid to live," Val

seethed. "I'm Valkyrie of the Stormriders," she challenged the room.

"We wage war on the Hell's Angels and the Mongols so

some two-bit outfit like you Warlords doesn't bother me in the least. I'll
bleed every one of you fuckers. Your bitch picked a fight with our bitch and
you wouldn't man up and deal with it so now my friends will," she growled.
"Zane, go get Rio." I nodded quickly and moved past the guy with the
gun.

"Iona with me; Mercy, you watch Valkyrie's back,"

I ordered. Iona clung to my back while Mercy hesitantly moved back to back with
Val. She wanted to come with us and save Rio, no doubt. I raced over to the
women's bathroom and flung open the door. Four sets of eyes riveted me as I
came in. The other two women were busy shoving Rio headfirst into one of the
toilets.

The rest of us were facing knives and guns and Rio was about

to get a swirlie.

"Hi," I stammered. The two women holding Rio down

backed out of the stall and joined the stand-off.

"Zane, what fucking took you so long?" Rio panted.

She staggered out and looked Iona and I over.

"Where the fuck is Mercy?" Rio sounded concerned.

"You stupid cow!" I snapped. "We are about to

be murdered because of you, damn it."

"You left Mercy out there with those animals?" Rio

screeched back. She tried to push past the other biker chicks but thankfully
didn't get very far. I'd have decked her myself.

"Would you please give us our friend back," I

requested after taking a deep breath. I was about to be told 'no' when one of
the other bikers stepped into the light and I made her out clearly for the
first time.

"You're, I started to say.

"You are Zane Braxton," she stated.

"The guy who fucked your sister for an hour?" the

lady closest to the lead girl asked.

"Yeah," she leered. "He's the kid from the

DVD she sent me and her husband, the bitch." Yes, this was the twin sister
of the Sheriff's Deputy I'd had a three-way with. Didn't she work at a college
club as a bartender? What a small damn world.

The whole atmosphere of the room changed. Rio shrugged off

the hands holding on to her but didn't bolt.

"Rio, take Iona out to the others and wait for me in

the parking lot," I insisted.

"No, Zane. I'm not leaving you here to take Rio's

beating," Iona resisted. Rio wasn't abandoning me either. I reached out
and stroked Iona's hair and put my keys in her hand.

"It will be okay. No one is going to kill anyone here

tonight. Now I need you to go so I can settle up accounts," I grinned down
at her with only a twinge of worry. Rio resolved the matter by taking Iona by
the hand and dragging her out. Iona looked to be on the verge of tears. Rio's
eyes told me she's suddenly sobered up and was regretting leaving me in harm's
way.

I looked back at the six women and the one oddity chipped

away at my senses but I didn't know what to make of it.

"So, how's your husband?" was the only, and rather

lame, thing I could think to say.

"I think he's turned State's Evidence against the Aryan

Nation," she shrugged.

"I thought your husband was some sort of hardened

criminal," I inquired.

"Ha," several of the chicks chuckled. "Zane,

my husband is an accountant," she clarified with some amusement at my
expense.

"But, weapons charges, he was laundering money?" I

pieced it together.

"Good job, College boy," the 'strange' woman

congratulated me.

"Let's get you out of here before someone takes

offense," the leader said. "Give me your number and we'll walk you
out. I'm Belle, by the way." She offered her hand and I foolishly kissed
it. I quickly gave up my digits, then we did a series of handshakes, French
kisses and introductions. When the 'strange' woman's turn came, she introduced
herself as Willa.

I wanted to fucking cry because just looking at a woman will

tell me a good deal about her person, a handshake even more, and a kiss is
freaking El Dorado. Willa was a biker chick but she was also college educated,
had a regimented training background, and was the only woman in the room who
was looking for a way to not hurt Rio, very service-minded of her.

"There may be a problem," I interrupted as we

headed for the door. "There is this guy," I described the guy I took
the gun from, "who I took his gun and threatened him with it. This other
guy," I painted a portrait of the authoritative guy, "told me he was
pissed with the whole gun thing." All the women stopped and looked at one
another.

"Zane, where is the gun?" Belle questioned me.

"I gave it back to him once he agreed that I could come

in here and retrieve Rio, my friend," I answered.

"It is a damn miracle you aren't dead," Willa

scowled.

"I would have been but my other buddy, Val, put a knife

to his throat. I left her with Rio's companion covering her back," I
explained. "She's kind of tough."

"That the one with Stormrider colors?" Belle

asked.

"Yeah. She's Valarie Palmer, my classmate as FFU,"

I told them.

"Is she Damien Palmer's little girl?" Willa

guessed.

"She's his oldest granddaughter; is that

important?" I inquired. The women seemed nervously amused by my ignorance.

"He's a God-damn legend, Zane," Belle said.

"Damien Palmer once took the Stormriders to a Mongol gathering in Las
Vegas. Outnumbered three to one, they kicked serious ass, cleared out the
place, and he ended the fight by grabbing a Mongol chapter president and some
other poor Mongol bastard, jumped out a fifth-story balcony, and used their
bodies to cushion his fall. I doubt prison has mellowed him much."

"Your problems are a little more immediate. The guy

whose gun you took is Big Ted, he's a moron. That 'other guy' is Deacon,
Warlord chapter president for Northern Virginia," Willa weighed in.

"Is he going to let my girls go?" I fretted.

"Let's go and find out," Belle shrugged. We

stepped out, Belle in the lead, followed by Willa, then me, then the rest.
There were a few guys standing by the doors watching something. No one was
jumping around or nursing serious wounds so I hoped the girls had exited.

"Belle, the kid and I need to have a word out

back," Deacon ordered confidently.

"Deacon, my sister is keeping an eye on this guy,"

Belle suggested. "It may not be a good idea to put him in the
hospital."

"We can't let him push Big Ted around; it is happening,"

Deacon declared.

"Big Ted," she looked to the guy I'd punked,

"you want to kick Zane's ass out front?"

Belle left Big Ted in the awkward position of taking his

chances with me or looking weak in front of his gang.

"I'll hand him his nuts," Big Ted growled. Deacon

gave his consent and the club emptied out into the front lot.

My girls were huddled around my car and Valarie's bike. Rio

looked like she was going to do something stupid like run up to me but Mercy
and Val held her back. I was actually relieved to see that Iona was behind the
wheel of my car with the engine running. The Warlords spread out in a rough
semi-circle with Deacon, Big Ted and Belle in the center.

I had backed up about ten feet toward the road, facing the

Warlords, when Big Ted came for me. He was about my height but around fifty
pounds heavier, thus the name Big Ted. The Warlord flexed his arms and did some
kind of primitive gesture meant to intimidate me.

"So do we start with 'ready, set, go' or what?" I

questioned.

That brought a round of laughter from the motorcycle gang

and Big Ted looked over his shoulder to share in their mirth. My first kick
caught him in the nuts, the second one caught him in the chest and knocked him
down, and the third saw me stomping on his nut sack once again. I swept around
him and kicked him in the head hard enough, he rolled over twice in the dust.

Ted was seriously unconscious. For ten seconds no one said a

word. Any hope I had of getting away with my underhanded win began to fade when
Deacon came forward.

"You come to my roadhouse, beat up one of my people,

and expect to get away with it?" he grumbled.

"Deacon, I am so very sorry this happened. My friends

and I only wanted to come by, have a few beers, and let my buddy Val soak in
the kind of establishment she was used to going to, namely a biker bar," I
said carefully. "Things were said, my best bud went a little nuts, and the
shit got out of hand. How can I make it up to you?"

"What the fuck can you do for me?" Deacon sneered.

"Five thousand dollars?" I threw out there. He

studied me.

"You have that kind of money?" he questioned me.

"Absolutely; I can have you the money tomorrow at six

p.m." I promised.

"Don't fuck up," he stated with menace, "or I

will hunt you and your friends down. Got it?"

"Understood," I pledged. Deacon snorted in disdain

and headed back inside. The rest of the Warlords were heading inside with a few
dragging Ted in and I finally let my focus expand beyond my immediate environs.
The car pulling up was still unexpected.

I knew the shape of the person who stepped out of the

Sheriff's cruiser.

"Zane," Sheriff's Deputy Tara Cavanaugh greeted me

happily. "Belle," she said to her sister with far less warmth.
"Zane, what brings you here?"

"A schoolmate of mine is a motorcyclist; she wanted to see

what a biker bar was like so we ended up here."

"We couldn't get in because we are only eighteen but

another friend of mine got sick and had to go to the bathroom. Belle was good
enough to get her out," I lied.

"Zane, you have sawdust on your shoes," Tara

pointed out.

"I had to go part of the way in to get my friend,"

I grinned feebly.

"Zane, are you lying to me?" Tara frowned.

"Yes," I admitted. "The truth is only going

to cause a whole lot of trouble, though."

"Wow, morally flexible where the law is concerned,"

Belle licked her lips. "Of course we already knew he was all kinds of
flexible, didn't we?"

"Usually the point where I start being talked about

like a piece of meat is my cue to leave," I stated crossly. "Deputy
Cavanaugh, may I leave now?"

"Beat it, Zane," Tara told me.

"Thanks, Deputy; take care, Belle. It was nice to meet

you and thanks for all your help," I thanked her before rejoining my
companions. Valarie drove alone in the lead. The rest of us followed in my car,
sans conversation.

Sorting Through One Helluva Mess

We kept our silence until we stepped out of the elevator on

the fifth floor. Valarie grabbed Rio ferociously, slammed her into the wall
with one hand holding Rio's right bicep while her forearm was pressed so it
choked Rio's throat.

"You stupid, crazy bitch!" Valarie howled.

"You could have gotten us all killed!"

I looped an arm around Mercy's waist before she could go

charging to Rio's rescue, and have Valarie beat her up.

"Hang on, Mercy; I'll work this out," I whispered.

She nodded but her concern was burning through. It was heart-warming to see
Iona put an arm through Mercy's in what would be a futile gesture to keep Mercy
still if things went bad.

"Get your hands off me, Cum-dumpster," Rio

snarled, followed by some choking noises as Valerie applied pressure to her
windpipe. Next Rio tried to kick Valerie but the bigger woman deflected it with
her thigh. It was time for me to step up.

"I've got this, Valerie," I told her calmly.

Valerie stepped back because she figured her next option was

to beat Rio black and blue. I moved into Valerie's place but put my hands to
either side of Rio's shoulders.

"Rio, this is done; let's put it aside and go to bed

early if you want, but I want to ask you one thing if you'll let me," I
asked softly.

"Fuck off, Zane," Rio rumbled, "I'm not in

the mood for one of your mind games."

"Okay," I shrugged. "To the Bitter End,"

I nodded.

"To the Bitter End," she muttered back, her eyes

drooping to the ground.

"We are done," I told the rest of the crowd.

Valerie snorted angrily and I figured she'd either bitch me out or never speak
to me again. Rio grabbed me before I got away.

"I, damn it, Zane, I screwed up again," she choked

back a sob.

"I'm fine, Rio. I signed on for the crazy so I have no

one to blame but myself," I reassured her.

"What did you want to ask me?" she sighed as she

put her cheek on my chest.

"Bro, I can't keep charging in to save you and keep

Iona safe at the same time. What am I going to do?" I inquired.

"Sorry, Man. I fucked up big time," she moaned.

"I don't know why it happened."

"That doesn't matter, Rio. Let's call it a night,"

I said serenely. We started to break up and I could see Valerie still glaring
hate at me and Rio. "Rio, do me a favor?"

"What?" Rio sounded dejected.

"What was the second and, third thing you asked me in

the bathroom?" I inquired. Rio snapped her face up toward me, angry and
upset.

"Don't," she insisted.

"I have a near-eidetic memory so if you don't remember,

I do," Iona chimed in.

"Shut up, you two," Rio snarled.

"Rio, I have had it with you. Jump and I'll kick in

your teeth," Val seethed in response. Mercy looked ready to jump in too.

"You said 'Where is, I began.

"Don't, damn it," Rio growled, but she could see I

wasn't going to relent. "Fine," she groaned in defeat. "I asked
where Mercy was, then I bitched you out for leaving her with those 'animals'.
Happy now?"

"Pretty much, yeah," I tried not to sound pleased

with myself.

What I did accomplish was put a glimmer of understanding in Valerie's

mind. A few seconds later Mercy clued in too.

"Oh, Rio," Mercy teared up, "you didn't have

to worry."

"I swear, if you cry I'm going to shove so many ice

cubes up your cunt, your eyes will shimmer like a snow globe," Rio swore
to Mercy.

"Rio," Valerie sighed with exasperation,

"Learn how to fight, and more importantly, learn when not to fight."
In the pack dynamic, going off and picking your own fight was nuts; fighting
for someone in your group was totally different. By the uncomplicated code that
nomads lived by, you stuck up for your own, and that made all the difference to
Valerie.

Rio was still crazy and could have gotten us all killed, but

she'd done it for another member of the group; in this, case, Mercy. That
demanded a reprimand, not expulsion.

"How about we go up to Zane's and have some

ice-cream?" Iona suggested.

"We have ice-cream?" Rio perked up. "When did

this happen?"

"Rio," Iona sighed wearily, "we put them in

on the first day. They are two 1950's style ice-cream freezers, one opposite
the close showers and the other down by the far kitchenette."

"Mercy," Rio grinned fiercely, "Bring several

wash cloths to bed tonight. I'm going to cover your nipples with mint chocolate
chip and lick it off." I wondered if Mercy could actually orgasm to death,
she certainly looked ready to.

"I thought you were going to, Mercy turned to Rio and

patted her own behind.

"Pound-cake, what makes you think you are getting any

sleep tonight?" Rio chastised Mercy, then spanked her ass.

"Rio, are you bi-polar?" Val ground out. "One

second you are weeping on Zane's shoulder and the next you are engaging in
kinky foreplay with your girlfriend."

"She's not my girlfriend, she's my toy," Rio

corrected. "Also, this shit ain't over. I know Zane jumped on a grenade
meant for me but I can't do anything about it right now. I know I put us all in
danger, again, nothing I can do about it at the moment. I do know that when I
find that bitch Belle or any of her girl-pals, I'm going upside their heads
with a pool cue, though."

"Gosh," mused Iona, "I should figure out what

I want on my tombstone."

"Mine is going to read 'didn't kill Rio Talon soon

enough'," griped Valerie.

"Hardy-har-har," grumped Rio. "You are acting

like they'll ever find our bodies."

"You annoy me," Mercy whispered to Rio before

licking her ear.

"Careful, you," Rio smirked. "Ice cubes-cunt

snow globe." I was thankful when I got to the door lock, entered my code,
and held the door for them to head up. I tagged Valerie at the top of the
stairs. She looked at me with annoyance but softened to curiosity when she saw
my concern.

"Zane," Vivian called out before I got anywhere.

"We need to talk." That was depressing.

"Val, I need to ask you something important. Can you

please wait?" I asked the biker babe.

"Sure," she promised before heading to get a

drink. I walked with Vivian into my bedroom area. At the foot of the bed was
laid out a skirt, shirt, bra, panties and socks. The shoes were on the floor.
The owner was no mystery.

Reclining on the pillows was Paige. She was clothed, sort

of. She was decked out all in brilliant red: stockings, garter belt, silky
panties, and a gauze-like bra that highlighted her pale breasts perfectly. Her
flesh radiated like freshly fallen snow and her hair flowed forth from my
pillow like a glacier crafted by spiders into a delicate web.

"Hey," I sighed hungrily.

"Hey," Paige responded in a rich sultry voice.

"Paige!" Vivian snapped. "How did you get

past me?"

"I'm a ghost-panthress stalking my prey," Paige

leered. "With the way Zane's heart is pounding, I'm doing a good job of it
too."

"Get up, put on a robe, and leave the room now,"

Vivian insisted.

"Oh," groaned Paige as she rolled over and shook

her delicious shaped bottom at me, "I'm so tired. I need someone's help in
getting out of bed." Yes, I wanted to go to the bed right then, but it had
nothing to do with helping Paige actually get out of that bed or that position.

"I'll take care of her," I told Vivian. I walked

to a wardrobe across the room, opened it up, and took a look around inside.
Vivian walked behind me and gasped.

"What are you doing with all these robes, all these

women's robes, Zane?" Vivian muttered.

"I got them predicated on the notion that I would have women

up here. I thought it would be considerate of me to give them a choice of what
to wear," I indicated my selection.

"How did you smuggle them all in here?" Vivian

wondered.

"We have mail service, Vivian. I ordered them

online." She seemed confused. The university didn't block clothing sites
from their computer network. I pulled out a short red one with a white and
black tiger circling on the back and showed it to Paige.

"Oh, cool, I'll look like a Bangkok whore," Paige

sounded conflicted.

"Actually, this one is from China so that would make

you a White Russian Shanghai hooker," I corrected.

"Oh, I like that," Paige purred as she crawled

over to my side of the bed on all fours. "An impoverished Slavic Princess
on the run from the sinister Godless proletariat."

I tossed her the robe and she seductively slipped it on,

obviously not deterred by how short the damn piece of silk was.

"Don't even try to run away, my Siberian Siren," I

wagged a finger at Paige, "your interrogation will begin," I looked
at my watch, "in thirty minutes." Paige got off the bed and brushed
past me as she made for the exit.

"That doesn't cover anything." Vivian protested

the fact that I could see the triangle between Paige's thighs and crotch. Paige
flipped up the back of the robe, exposing the entirety of her ass to us.

"Beware, Zane, the White Revolution is coming,"

Paige snickered.

"Oh, I'm looking forward to the White Revolution

cumming again and again," I smiled.

"Lord Jesus, give me strength," Vivian prayed. I

turned to her once Paige was out of sight. "Zane, I keep trying to stress
that you should attempt to see your fellow female students as Christian souls
and not pleasures of the flesh. Look what you've done to poor Paige. She is
intelligent but frail and you are luring into a contest she cannot win."

"Why can't Paige compete as strongly as anyone

else?" I quizzed Vivian.

"She's an albino," Vivian pointed out. "She

simple doesn't have the strength or stamina like a normal girl."

"Vivian, I choose not to get angry at your ignorance

and bigotry. Instead, I want you to listen and listen well; she has met or
exceeded every expectation we have set for each other," I told her.

"It is not fair; she can't keep up with you,"

Vivian continued.

"You can't keep up with me sexually, Vivian," I

pointed out. "Paige is above me in the mental side of sex. We are a
partnership; I have no desire to dominate any of you girls, and I'd like to
avoid being dominated because more than a few women here have shown the desire
to tie me down."

"Zane, I want you to keep advancing toward Jesus's

light, and making Paige believe she has to dress up in such a degrading fashion
to please you isn't helping," Vivian said with strained patience.

"It is my fault because I am the man, and men initiate

these kinds of sexually dominant relationships," I clarified.

"You said it; I didn't," Vivian deflected the

argument.

"No," I shook my head, "I had the guts to say

what you couldn't, Vivian. I told Paige she would look hot in that outfit but
she was more than capable of deciding to actually wear it."

"You are telling me she would normally wear that to

bed?" Vivian cocked her head.

"No. It is what she wears when she wants to entice me

into an amorous encounter. If you want to know why she wants that, I suggest
you ask her," I told Vivian.

"I think I'll do that," Vivian announced before

storming out of the room. 'Thank God' I thought, because she'd be out of my
hair for a few minutes.

I stepped out into the main room and beckoned Valerie.

"I'm on my last freaking nerve, Zane, so this had

better be good," Valerie led off. She paced the floor while I stood close
by.

"I am pretty sure one of the Warlords is an undercover

agent, most likely a federal one," I stated.

Valerie stopped and regarded me carefully.

"It is one of the six biker girls who jumped Rio,

that's a given. I don't know the Warlords well enough to make a guess beyond
that," Valerie ruminated. "What do you want from me?"

"Advice; I haven't a clue what to do. I'm not even 100%

sure I've read the woman right," I said.

"What do you have?" Valerie drew close and very

serious.

"College educated, regimented training, and an

overwhelming desire to not kill Rio," I related.

"Yep, sounds like an undercover," Valerie nodded.

"What do you want to happen?"

"I would kind of like Belle not to go to prison,"

I stated. "Her husband has turned state's evidence against the Aryan
Nation and her twin sister is a cop."

"Her prison time would be rather interesting,"

Valerie chuckled dryly. "What's next?"

"Could we talk to the undercover and ask for a favor to

make sure Belle doesn't get clobbered?" I tossed out there.

"Christ, Zane, you can't save everybody. Let this one

go," Valerie advised.

Valerie and I measured each other with our eyes.

"Fine, I'll do it," she sighed. "I'll cover

your back when we meet with her." She looked around. "You may have
the must fucked up life of anyone I've ever even heard about. Seriously, you
walk into a biker bar, get into a fight, get rescued by some biker bitches, and
discover a female undercover agent in under an hour, and this just another
freaking Thursday in your life."

"I live in Roswell on an Ancient Indian Burial Ground

surrounded by standing stones with a resurgent herd of sasquatches roaming the
county line and a perpetual injection of Girls Gone Wild," I gave a tired
grin.

"That explanation works for me," Valerie allowed.

"If something ever happens to you I'll take care of Rio, so don't
worry."

"That's a euphemism for sneaking up behind her and

snapping her neck; right?" I asked.

"Pretty much, yes," Valerie smiled. "She'll

suffer less that way. The weird thing is, I'm not sure how Rio would deal if
you died. She is absolutely and totally devoted to you."

"Yeah," I sighed with a desperate loneliness.

"I appreciate that in her but sometimes I wish she was a little
saner."

Valerie gave a worn chortle and headed for the silk screens

that isolated my room.

"Don't worry too much, Zane, there are a lot of us who

have become attached to you. You are not alone."

"You make it sound like you are in that number," I

inquired curiously.

"I am, Zane. It isn't like I've actually had a

boyfriend, ever. Some of your girlfriends are downright wacky but Iona's
opinion of you is what did it for me. As far as I can tell, she and Chastity
are your only two admirers free of some kind of psychosis," Valerie joked.
At least I hoped she was joking. She gave me one last smirk and headed out the
door.

"Christina," I said over the phone, "how is

it going?"

"Everything is fine, Zane," she responded.

"What do you need?" which was followed by, "Ugh. Zane, Heaven is
bent over her bed and is waggling her ass at me, and thus the phone, in what
must be some arcane ritual that may have some significance to you."

"Okay, now I need two things. First, can I borrow five

thousand dollars to pay off a demented motorcycle gang leader? I promise to
have you paid back by the end of the month," I begged.

"Sure," she replied instantly. "Rio, I

assume?" There was no sense in denying it.

"Yes, it was. Thanks. And for the second thing, would

you go over to Heaven, run your fingers over the spot right above her tailbone
for a few seconds and remind her I'm going to give her a severe spanking for
taunting me like she is."

I heard Christina move, Heaven moan, then after some

rustling Heaven really started moaning.

"Zane, you've made Heaven very happy," Christina

informed me compassionately. "In fact, she likes it so much she's now
humping her bed and whispering your name."

"Put the phone to her ear," I requested softly. I

heard Heaven's gasps growing louder.

"Heaven, next time I'm going to tickle your tight

little ass with my tongue and fingers while I stroke your cock and tongue-tease
your slit," I whispered. Heaven gave a chocking sob then the phone was
removed.

"Wow, I don't know what you just said but I think we

have a mess to clean up now. Good night, Zane. I'll have your money at
lunch," Christina said before hanging up.

I stripped down, grabbed a towel and my shower kit before

heading out to the main area.

"About time," Rio announced as I came into view.

"Mercy brought some handcuffs and is going to explode if she can't use
them on me." Those were my handcuffs and the only one getting tied down
was Mercy, but besides that, Rio was being as truthful as always.

Along with Rio and Mercy, Opal, Brandi, Paige and Iona sat

around waiting on me. Vivian sat some distance away and gloomily surveyed the
gathering.

"Good night," yawned Iona happily. "If things

get bad, call for Vivian; she'll come and save you."

"I'll make sure no one harms him, too much," Paige

purred.

"Paige, you are dressed like the cutest

vampire-seductress I've ever seen but I'm skeptical you would rescue Zane
without exacting some kind of payment," Iona reasoned.

"We'll, Brandi began, indicating herself and Opal.

"Thank you, everyone," I interrupted, "but

you might want to take it to the bedroom before Rio wrecks the place."
Opal put a hand to the back of Brandi and Paige, steering them through the silk
screens. Opal was more into aggressive action than playful banter. As they
vanished, Barbie Lynn appeared, coming up the stairs with a beatific smile
gracing her face.

My responding smile died as I caught sight of the person

coming up behind Barbie Lynn. Barbie was confused until she figured out the angle
of my gaze and turned to see Gabrielle Black hovering like a deathly specter
behind her. Gabrielle slipped passed Barbie Lynn, pointed at me, then at a spot
farther into my dorm space.

I gave Barbie a nod directing her to go to my bed and wait

before paralleling Ms. Black. Vivian was approaching my way as well.

"No," Gabrielle commanded Vivian coolly.

"She's my guardian," I countered. "If this is

school business she stays with me."

This was the point I prayed Gabrielle didn't beat me until I

cried like a baby. Happily, she nodded. The three of us travelled a few more
yards, then stopped when she confronted Vivian and me.

"There was an altercation at a place called the Dixie

Roadhouse. Sheriff's Deputy Tara Cavanaugh contacted the Security office about
it. She says that you pissed off the chapter president of the Warlords
motorcycle gang, Deacon Baker. Is this correct?" Gabrielle inquired.

"Yes," I replied, "but I'm working to resolve

the situation."

"How so?" Ms. Black demanded.

"I'm going by tomorrow evening and giving him five

thousand dollars," I told her. Why hide it?

"You think that would suffice, Zane?" Gabrielle

prodded.

"I hope so," I shrugged. "I was thinking on

my feet and the alternative was getting beaten up by twenty bikers."

"Zane, what were you thinking?" Vivian snapped at

me.

"He was making an incorrect assumption that what

mattered in this situation was the gang's social compensation network, not the
sociopathic personality that runs a criminal enterprise," Gabrielle
dissected my reasoning.

"What do you want him to do?" Vivian worried.

"Zane had better not bring trouble back to this

school," was all Gabrielle said before turning toward the exit and
striding away. Crap, she was totally fucking hot and beyond my most irrational
dreams of ever being with.

"Zane," Vivian started to lecture me, but then she

abruptly changed gears. "Thank you for keeping me close to you when
dealing with Ms. Black. I think that means we are making progress." Of
course it is, because Vivian doesn't know that Ms. Black is essentially a
killer on the run who would end my life if I threatened to expose her existence
before she was ready.

My phone rang, because it wasn't like I wanted anything else

at ten at night. It was E. Lister. I gamble that it is Erin from the movie with
Hope and Chastity.

"Hey, Erin," I grinned.

"How's it going, stud?" she snickered.

"Well, you calling me 'stud' shows your utter lack of

bedroom experience with me." Vivian frowned at my statement. "I'm
more like the hammer, I do the pounding."

"Ha," she chortled, "I may get a chance to

see that. Are you still up for the party Saturday night?"

"I am if you and Gerry are going to be there too,"

I shot back.

"Three blocks from the water tower on Hammond Street.

The word is 'Comet'."

"Gotcha. What size crowd are we looking at? I wonder

how much I'll blend in," I prevaricated.

"Maybe 250," Erin guessed. "We'll meet you up

by the left corner of the stage at 10:30; okay?"

"It's a date," I declared happily. "Thanks,

Erin."

"No problem, Zane; I'm looking forward to it," she

said before hanging up.

"Do I even want to know what that is about?"

Vivian sighed.

"I'm going to a block party Saturday night," I

answered. "Do you want to come with?"

"No," Vivian tried to stay calm. "I'm 21 and

I shouldn't go because I'm a good Christian girl; and you shouldn't go because
you are 18."

"Well, we are all entitled to our opinions," I

shrugged. I turned and headed toward my room, Vivian tailing along.

"Zane," Vivian called to me as we passed her

sofa-bed, "is there anything I can do to convince you that having
intercourse with those girls tonight is wrong?" I stopped and thought it
over but nothing came to mind.

"Sorry. You want me to think of them as good Christians

and I do. You want me to treat them as something more that pleasures of the
flesh and I do. Having sex with a woman is a journey of exploration for me. It
is like learning the Bible, then finding the Gnostic Gospels and then tacking
on the Dead Sea Scrolls, the knowledge goes on and on," I explained.

"I imagine that one day my finite ability to observe

will leave me nothing more to learn about a woman but I won't confuse that with
the infinite amount that a woman offers. You keep telling me I have to see a
woman as either spiritual or sexual. I see them as spiritual and sexual as well
as academic and personable too. It seems unnatural to cut one aspect out,"
I continued.

"Quite frankly, I can't see how anyone who has seen a

woman orgasm, or been a woman who has had an orgasm, can see it as anything
except wonderful, natural, and worth repeating. Vivian, mankind doesn't need an
excuse to sin; we will do it for any reason under the Sun. Blaming it on
sexuality comes across to me as weak," I told her.

"If I gave in to weakness I would shame the memory of

my Mother and Father, and I'm not going to do that," I finished up.

"Are you sure you don't bring a level of shame to them

now?" Vivian asked softly.

"Ha," I snorted. "My Father's first piece of

dating advice was to never use my real name."

"Mom told me that every time I look at a woman, I

should imagine a snowflake, endless angles and gone before you can know all of
her. Also, nature makes an endless supply of snowflakes so I shouldn't get too
broke up when one gets away," I grinned.

"Wow," Vivian exhaled, "That is a lot to take

in. I was expecting something simple like you saying that if I slept with you,
you wouldn't sleep with them."

"I'd never do that, Vivian," I responded.

"You should never be a substitute for another woman; no woman
should."

"Would it help the situation if I came to bed with

you?" Vivian postulated.

"To what end?" I inquired.

"To show you that going to bed with a woman doesn't

have to involve sex," she clarified.

"Been there, done that, Vivian. I've slept with Iona

and Barbie Lynn both, sleep, no sex," I responded. "In fact, Iona is
a total virgin; none of her girly-bits have been penetrated by me or anyone
else." Not 100% accurate, but did fingers and tongue getting just inside
the cunt really count?

"So you would respect me if we were in bed together, side

by side?" Vivian pressed.

"Without a doubt," I assured her. "I have a

variety of restraints you could use on me."

"What?" Vivian sounded as if she was caught off

guard.

"Oh, God," I exclaimed. "Vivian, you are hot

as hell and if I was next to you in bed, I would take a nibble or get the hell
out because I know I would soon be past the point of self-control with
you."

"Zane," Vivian persisted, "wouldn't you

like, and Rio came scampering out from behind the silk screens ass-naked.

"Bro, you had best get back there or they're going to

be exploding into frustrated girlie bits all over your boudoir," Rio joked
as she passed by. She turned a corner and headed for one of the ice cream
freezers.

"It's been a fun chat, Vivian, but I think that is my

cue to leave," I saluted her. "It is time for fun and games."

"Ugh, try and keep it down," Vivian hrumpfed.

"No promises," was all I could truthfully say and

I was off.

To be continued in part 18, By FinalStand for Literotica.

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