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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 st

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