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Christian College Sex Comedy: Part 19

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Christian College Sex Comedy: Part 19
It Doesn t Matter, and I Don t Understand.

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     

"You are so good to me, Zane, and I appreciate

it," Barbie Lynn murmured. "You never give me less than 100% and I've
never felt like you take me for granted."

"It is you and only you, Sarah, Cindy, Eve, umm, help

me out here," I grinned. Barbie Lynn lilted in the voice of an angel while
she pressed off the glass with her upper body and leveraged down onto my cock.

I shifted one hand off an ass cheek to move it to the back of

her neck and pull her face in and up to mine. She also constricted her anal
muscles around my shaft, concentrating on my cockhead.

"Does this make my body more familiar to you?" she

panted, our lips only inches away.

"Not as much as these eyes, these eyes of my own

beautiful seraph," I whispered.

Barbie Lynn completed the kiss. Her hips rotated up slightly

and mine shifted lower and under so that my penetration reached deep inside.
For thirty seconds we kept the tender kiss going before she had to break free.

"Oh, Jesus, Zane, this feels so good, I can't, oh, Lord

Jesus," she gasped out as I shifted out, then back in rhythmically.

"More time, I want more time with you, Zane,"

Barbie Lynn panted with a heavy breath.

"We have tests this afternoon and Vivian is

waiting," I shook my head in disappointment. Fierce passion engulfed both
of us. Clearly, I got my money's worth from the contractor who had installed
the shower because the glass wall didn't give way despite our enthusiasm.

"Lord Jesus loves, ," Barbie Lynn screamed across

campus. Her arms locked my head and shoulders in place, her face grinding into
my chest. Her torso desperately tried to impale her hole deeper onto my rod.
Her scream degenerated to an uncontrolled growling against me while I kept her
back to the glass and up against my body.

"Zane, I know I've been really needy today but you've

been so kind and understanding, and I appreciate you putting up with me the
kind way you have," Barbie Lynn snuggled into me. "You are the
best."

That's what I wanted to talk to Barbie Lynn about, taking me

for granted and using me like a sex toy. Boy, I just saved myself from acting
like a total ass!

"Babe, you are better than I deserve." I kissed

her neck as I lowered her legs down to the tiled floor. "If I ever take
you for granted, promise me you'll kiss me, rub your body against me front and
back, and then walk away. I guarantee you I'll fall on my knees and beg for
forgiveness."

"I like it when you beg," she said with a glimmer

in her eye.

"Why am I being nice to you again?" I teased.

Barbie Lynn simply let her eyes go wide and innocent with a cute little smile
on her face. "Oh, yeah," I whistled, "you give me hope,
happiness, and warmth in good times and bad."

"My body has nothing to do with it?" she questioned

in a coquettish fashion.

"It's passable," I shrugged as I cut the water

off, "but I hope you will fill out one day, you know, quit the training
bra and become a little more womanly." Mind you, Barbie Lynn hadn't seen a
training bra in ten years. Hourglasses went to Barbie for lessons on how they
should be shaped and her ass was the perfect balance between fantasy
cheerleader and soccer girl.

"Thank you for spending time with someone as poorly

endowed as me," she purred.

"I admit that I'm holding out for Doctor Burns. He's

got it going on," I struggled to say convincingly. Barbie Lynn fought
valiantly to hold back her reaction to the thought of seeing our
over-70-year-old male Biology teacher in any sexual manner.

"Burns without his clothes on is an image I could have

forever gone without," she shuddered.

"Gosh, I value you more than my own personal desires so

I guess I'm stuck with you, Barbie Lynn," I sighed playfully.

"Would you two get out of the shower!" barked

Vivian. She was sitting in a chair in the main room.

We stepped out of the shower, grabbed the waiting towels,

and began drying each other off. Vivian surprised me by keeping a somewhat
detached eye on the two of us. Maybe she wanted to make sure Barbie Lynn and I
didn't turn drying into fondling, thus ending up with us rolling on the tiled
floor. The floor would be uncomfortable but having hot, sweaty Barbie Lynn
flesh pressing into me, I put this on my 'to do' list.

We quickly got dressed and moved to where Vivian was

standing and waiting. It wasn't until we were making our way to the elevator
that Vivian spoke.

"Barbie Lynn, would you take the elevator? Zane and I

need to take the stairs," she said.

"Sure thing, Vivian," Barbie Lynn smiled. She

stepped up to me and kissed me on the lips. "I'll see ya Sunday night,
slugger."

"I kinda, sorta have a standing date with Heaven,"

I cautioned her, "so if you come by, be careful." I didn't miss
Vivian rolling her eyes in exasperation. The elevator came and took Barbie Lynn
away. I waved Vivian to the stairwell, held the door for her, and together we
went down.

"What are we going to do?" I broke the

insufferable silence.

"What do you mean?" Vivian evaded.

"Damn it!" I snapped. Since I stopped moving,

Vivian decided to stop too.

"Yes?" she looked to me with what I was learning

to read was a disarming friendliness.

"I want to make you happy but I don't want to change,

Vivian," I grumbled. "So, what are we going to do?"

"How much of your time and energy are you willing to

devote to Christ?" she countered. I had to think that over. Monday was no
good; it was Recovery night. Tuesday was 'make it up to the girls' night.
Wednesday was Specialty Night, Thursday, that was no good; it was Orgy Night.
Friday was first date night, Saturday was SYFY/Party night and Sunday was
second-date night.

"I am on a committee at Church on Wednesday nights and

I go to both Sunday school and Church service on Sundays," I offered.
"Isn't that enough religious stuff?"

"Zane, do you have sex at Church?" Vivian pierced me

with her eyes. I was so boned because while I was preparing some sort of verbal
obfuscation, Vivian sighed and looked down at the stairs.

"Why do I even bother?" she moaned with despair.

She looked up at me, clearly in pain, "It is a Church, Zane. Doesn't that
mean anything to you? Because it definitely means something to me."

"Vivian, it is a building, made of stained glass,

brick, stone, and lumber," I responded heatedly, "and I don't need
any of those to be in God's presence."

"It was sex in a church," Vivian nearly screamed.

"Come on, now, do you respect anything at all?"

"You are right, I don't respect a building simply

because someone declares it to be holy. I don't recall my vote being consulted.
I don't respect people who bully with scripture but won't study the original
Greek and Latin texts it was written in to learn what was really said. I don't
respect anyone who refuses to think for themselves and listens to some two-bit
liar like Pastor William."

"He is your pastor," Vivian growled back. "He

deserves, "

"Nothing," I snapped. "He's an adulterer, and

I've seen it with my own two eyes so don't you dare lecture me on him. If you
defend him, it is only because you don't know shit about him."

Vivian glared at me but I could see she was trying to see if

I was making stuff up.

"I respect you, Vivian, and that's no lie," I

continued. "Since our fight I haven't a clue what to do with you but I
have respected you. You believe in give and take; you believe in consequences
and redemption. The only other person I've met like you is Iona. I trust Iona
with more than my life; I trust her with Rio's."

"Right now you are pissing the hell out of me, but that

doesn't change the fact that I trust you and respect you," I added.
"I don't need someone with spiritual authority to tell me what to do; my
heart does that for me."

"Zane, it is the constant sex," Vivian groaned.

"I thought I could take it but it never seems to slow down with you."
I had to think that over.

"Vivian, you can't confuse love and sex," I

insisted. "You are in love with your boyfriend and you two have been
through some rough patches and survived. Sex without passion is masturbation,
Vivian. If you are ever tempted, fall back on your love for that man because
when you love something, there is nothing you will let stand in your way."

I could see the turn in the argument defused some of

Vivian's wrath and sent her mind down different pathways.

"Okay, then why is it okay for you to have sex without

love?" Vivian said as we resumed our progress downstairs.

"I love in different ways, Vivian. I love Iona and Rio

as best friends, there is nothing I wouldn't do for them. I love Heaven and
Paige because they do for me things that make me want to do for them right
back. I love Brandi and Opal because they are fun and they give me the space to
be me. I love Barbie Lynn, well, just because it feels natural and right.
Christina, Christina, I will always love without cause or reason. I love
her," I related.

"If Christina asked you to stop seeing all those other

women, would you?" Vivian asked with a glimmer of hope.

"I don't know. Our pseudo-agreement lets me have my

college years to go wild before I give it all up to be a good husband and
father," I replied. "Are you thinking of going to Christina and
asking for her help with me?"

"Yes. Yes, I am," Vivian told me.

"The only problem with that plan is that it requires

Christina to declare her feelings toward me and make a commitment about what
she wants to do with me," I pointed out. "Good luck with that."

We hit the bottom of the stairs at a run and raced through

the halls and doors on our way to the Dining Hall. We found Christina and
company waiting outside for us when we got there.

Christian handed a thick envelope over, my bribe to Deacon

of the Warlord's motorcycle gang.

"Heaven, date night Sunday? I've found a theater

playing Hugo," I asked my fox-faced girl.

"What? You think you can ask me out on Friday for a

date on Sunday? What kind of girl do you think I am?" she growled.

"Heaven, you weren't here for most of the week, and you

have to admit the world had gone crazy. Come on, Babe," I pleaded.

"I'll have to think about it," Heaven grumbled.

Behind her back all her other friends were stifling their grins. All those
grins fell behind impassive masks when Heaven turned around facing them and
stomped back and forth.

"What's the problem, Heaven?" Hope asked.

"Barbie Lynn comes skipping across the yard from her

dorm with a smile that outshines the Sun, Heaven began.

"She said she's been doing intensive physical therapy,"

Christina interrupted. Yay! I've graduated to being considered exercise
equipment.

"Harrumph," Heaven grunted. "How come his

hair is wet? Besides, he's taking another girl home for the weekend."

"It's Iona," Chastity explained. "Think about

how wound up he's going to be by Sunday evening, because you know he's not
going to do anything Iona's uncomfortable with."

"Yes," added Faith, "he'll be ready to knock

'em out of the ballpark after a whole weekend of physical denial. Maybe you
shouldn't go out with him; he's probably going to be pretty fierce."
Heaven glared at all her friends before turning on me.

"Fine, I'll go out with you, but if I can still walk by

curfew, you had better know I'm going to make next week hell for you. Are we
clear?" Heaven threatened.

"Is that all Zane is to you, a sexual release

valve?" Vivian gasped before I could answer Heaven. "You are making
light of a serious moral struggle for him."

"Vivian, Zane was the first man to tell me he loved me

and I've believed," Christina said.

"He saved me from a fight and academic troubles by

putting his body on the line," Chastity added.

"Me too," continued Hope.

"He pretty much saved my life," Faith chimed in,

which oddly twisted back to ruining her life with Christina and company when I
exposed her as the Chancellor's spy. Maybe the girls had made up somehow.

"He's put up with more of my crap than I care to get

into. He loves me for who I am, and he's my lover and boyfriend," Heaven
clarified. "If you spent one night with Zane making love, you would know
I'm more of an addict than anything else. It is just that I get, grumpy when
he's not around every minute of every day."

Everyone's eyes sort of gravitated toward me.

"You are all great women but I have to go to

class," I grinned, then took off. Vivian raced to catch up with me.

"Do you have commitment issues?" she panted beside

me.

"No. I was getting hard. All that feminine compassion

directed my way was getting me sexually aroused and they were all staring at my
crotch," I explained. "I figured running away was the best resolution
for what was coming down the pipeline."

"Have you ever considered chemical castration?"

Vivian asked.

WHAT?

The last quarter of the school day went rather well,

considering I had to juggle balls once between classs. (Apparently I resemble a
dancing bear or something.) My second chore required me to bounce a soccer ball
on my knees for a trip to the soccer field. Considering some of the crap I've
had to do here, I almost volunteered to do it walking backwards.

Karate started out so surprisingly normal (not my normal,

but normal-normal), I should have known better. We had barely finished warming
up and stretching when Gabrielle Black walked into the room. She stood against
the far wall poised for our dispersal into teams. When first team knelt and
waited for Coach Gorman's instructions for today, Gabrielle made her approach.

"Coach Gorman, we seem to have had some difficulty

connecting so I decided this would be the best place to meet," Gabrielle
said in a deceptively upbeat manner.

"I'm teaching a class," Gorman replied deadpan.

"I teach several classes. I guess that makes me a teacher. In fact, I'm
teaching right now, get lost."

"I'd rather not." Gabrielle gave her deadliest

smile. "Care to make me?" They really need to start psychological
testing of the staff at FFU, or at least stop giving them daily doses of
testosterone.

"Since reason and rationality have clearly avoided you

like the plague," Gorman growled, "why don't you tell me what you
have in mind?"

"A little sparing match," Gabrielle suggested.

"So you really need to see if you can kick my ass, or

is it just that you have to be Alpha bitch?" Gorman countered. Several of
the more religious-minded students gasped, but they didn't realize this wasn't
a game.

Someone needed to do something, and of course it had to be

me. I didn't very well have the time to overdose Rio with caffeine and throw
her at Gabrielle. Besides, I am sure that's a war crime.

"Me first!" I declared as I broke free of my

second-team circle and walked toward the two adults. This was the point where I
expected one or both of the women to tell me to ass out, mind my own business,
I'm stupid, or something.

Gabrielle stepped back and stripped off her jacket and

slipped off each boot. I figured that since I was about to die, I'd best get
rid of my gi; that way they'd have something to drape over my lifeless eyes.

"Zane, what are you doing?" Cappadocia belatedly

hissed at me.

"Eh, you know, sometimes a woman has to be put in her

place," I joked. It wasn't like Gabrielle was going to take it easy on me
in the first place. Several girls laughed at what they were sure was levity on
my part. You see, I was about to become a legend. Unfortunately, it was the
legend of Don Quixote, damn fucking windmills dressed in tight black
form-fitting outfits.

To the credit of my limited intellect, I approached this

fight with a totally different philosophy than any I'd faced before. I
discarded every tenet of Thai kick-boxing (except the one that says never do
anything that will make the lady-boys mock you). I went completely defensive,
abandoning any hope of striking Gabrielle. I figured if such an opportunity
presented itself, it would only be a trap.

It took Gabrielle about two seconds to unravel my master

plan, then she was on me like a fart in an airplane bathroom, choking the life
out of you with nowhere to run. Because I am such a badass, it took Gabrielle
eight more seconds to land a telling blow. I staggered back but instead of
coming at me, she shifted to my side. Since I had my arms up to defend my head,
she was slipping out of my field of vision. There was an added bonus; I
discovered I couldn't hear her move over the mats.

I somersaulted in the other direction which bought me a few

more seconds, but I never regained my feet. Once more she opted to shift to my
flank than come head-on. A man on his knees cannot out-turn a woman on her
feet. I caught her knee in my shoulder, propelling me face-first into the mat.
I tried to turn with the blow so I could keep eyes on her.

Gabrielle slammed into my shoulder blade and I slapped the

mat hard. I pressed up with my arms but Gabrielle was on my back so fast I
might as well have been standing still. For a second our legs struggled as she
tried to put me into a leg lock. Then her body rolled over on me and drove
three fingers into my spine right above the coccyx. Blinding pain exploded over
my body and I screamed.

I wasn't paralyzed but I didn't need to be; I was in too

much God-damn pain. Gabrielle's body was tight against my back. One hand cupped
my chin and the other was placed on the back of my skull. She gave my head a
quarter-twist.

"You are dead," she whispered. Technically, she

would have merely snapped my spine at the base of my skull. My cells would have
struggled on for a few more minutes but that hardly seemed to be the point.

Gabrielle stood up within inches of me and gave me an

emotionless, pitiless stare.

"Did you get what you wanted?" she asked softly.

"We'll see," I grunted, then rolled onto my back.

"Did you put me in my place?" she queried next.

I had to chuckle, then I had to choke back on the pain.

"Oh, yeah, we are perfectly placed."

Seeing her brows crowd together in displeasure, I added with

a pained gasp, "You've clearly never stood on a mirror and looked up at
your cleavage the way I am now." Gabrielle reached down and touched my
wrist before letting her fingers work up to my elbow. She pulled me up quite
rapidly and gave me a soulless, piercing gaze.

"You are insane," Gabrielle noted. That wasn't

said as a joke or a condemnation. She said it as if she was recognizing a
kindred spirit. When you are ten years old, being best friends with an assassin
sounds pretty cool. Most of us grow out of that. After all, being buddies with
a person who has a casual disregard for human life might come back to haunt you
if they ever decide you are an encumbrance they can do without.

"When I beat you, can I draw a smiley face on your

forehead?" I blurted out. Why did I say those things? Maybe it was a brain
tumor, or maybe Gabrielle was right and I am insane. Maybe my buddy Don Quixote
was telling me the windmill is still standing.

"What do I get when I beat you, again?" she

inquired.

"I've developed an inside track on some authentic

saltwater taffy," I shrugged. Gabrielle didn't seem very impressed.
"I could feel honor-bound to jump on the next grenade thrown your
way?"

"I'll think of something when the time comes,"

Gabrielle informed me. Turning to Gorman, she said, "Are you ready?"

"I'd like a, Wilhelmina started to say as she stood.

Dana put a hand on Willy's shoulder and shook her head.

"I've got this," Coach said. She stood up and

discarded her gi, depending on your point of view, she was
fortunately/unfortunately wearing a white sports bra. Wait! Am I in
chest-to-chest proximity with Gabrielle while scoping out Dana? Was I dropped
on my head repeatedly as a child? Maybe I should hunt down my former nanny and
ask her.

"Let's make Zane's idiocy, Dana continued telling

Captain Willy, ", worth more than the beating he took." Gorman
stripped off her pants, revealing white biker shorts. It was very cinematic;
Gorman in white and Black in black. Sadly, I believed White needed some serious
Divine intervention to win this showdown.

"Zane," Gabrielle requested my attention with that

deathly quiet voice of hers. I must have looked pretty scared because she
almost smiled at me. "You can let go of my hand now." Jumping back
felt like a surefire way to test her killer instinct so I let go of her hand
and backed away slowly and carefully. Only after I gave us some space did I
contemplate the trust she'd put in me, allowing anyone to be that close outside
of combat.

I was walking past Dana when she grabbed my shoulder,

stopping my progress. She pointed me to the spot on the floor she had just
vacated. Wow, I had my ass kicked and still made First Team. I moved over to my
new place in the hierarchy and thanked Dana in the only way I knew how.

"Does this mean you are going to sit on my lap when you

get back?" I said with a voice as sincere as I was serious.

"Zane," Coach Gorman said over her shoulder. She

was keeping her eyes on Gabrielle, "when I get back, I am giving grave
consideration to having a general melee, and I'm placing a bounty on your head
if we do. You will have all weekend to recover." A general melee sounded a
whole lot like a 'beat up the new guy' kind of thing, and I had planned on
devoting my weekend to Iona.

Further banter was ended by Black and Gorman facing off.

Willie gave the 'Go' and things went John Wu-crazy. My bright shining moment
was delivered right off the bat. Gorman went fullout, denying Gabrielle the
ability to control the maneuvering in the fight the way she'd controlled me. My
beating hadn't been in vain; Gabrielle undoubtedly knew Gorman's fighting style
but Dana knew nothing of hers.

My body had bought Dana what little insight Gabrielle had

been willing to give up. After all, Gabrielle knew my game from the moment I'd
thrown out my challenge. Still, she had to beat me up to get at Dana. I could
take on most members of the first team and, as Dana constantly reminds the
world, I can take a beating, which meant I was the body for the job.

I've fought Gorman on several occasions and she's damn

impressive. Gabrielle was doing crap I'd never seen before and I wasn't even
sure was humanly possible. I swear, if she'd turned into a Terminator, I
couldn't have been more surprised. Dana's fighting prowess only went up in my
estimation because she wasn't impaled on Gabrielle's fist in the first thirty seconds.

It wasn't a misstep that screwed up Dana's game plan; her

mistake was predictability. One second she was pushing Gabrielle back and the
next she was on the floor, struggling to keep Gabrielle from establishing a chokehold.
For a second I contemplated grabbing up Cappy and Willy, then rushing
Gabrielle. After all, it would have been a shame for Dana to die alone. It
would also seriously curtail my desire for an open-casket funeral but hey, Dana
is almost a friend.

Dana wasn't finished yet. Unknown to me, she has the ability

to dislocate and relocate her shoulder. No one in the class wanted to consider
how painful that had to be. The loud popping noise was enough to make us decide
to miss dinner. Dana got an elbow and fist in before they separated. They went
at it again, but this time, it was harder on Dana. I could feel that her
confidence was shaken now that she had a clearer measure of Gabrielle's
strengths and weaknesses.

Gabrielle remained a steadfast cypher. If Dana was turning

out to be a tougher opponent to crack than she'd expected, Gabrielle wasn't
showing it. What she was doing was exhibiting the iron stamina of a triathlete.
Dana wasn't fighting for air but I didn't see Gabrielle even breaking a sweat
yet. Had I been Dana, this would have been the time I started crying out to a
vengeful God for forgiveness.

Dana didn't do that. Instead, digging down to her dogged

determination and fighting on, her game, her gamble, was for Gabrielle to screw
up somehow and take advantage of it. She had to hope that something came up
before her endurance failed. And in the fourth minute of the fight, it
happened.

Of course it was a trap. I couldn't blame Dana for risking

it because fighting hard, non-stop, for over four minutes is its own form of
torture. Gabrielle caught Dana's leg, swept the other one out from under our
Coach, then finished up with driving an elbow into her hip as they hit the mat.
There is fast, unbelievably fast, a weasel on speed, and then Gabrielle, and if
you gave a weasel enough speed to keep up with Gabby, the weasel would explode
first.

Dana is fast, but I'm faster and I know I didn't have a

prayer of blocking Gabrielle at this point in their fight. The blow to Gorman's
hip seemed to have temporarily paralyzed that leg. Without the leg, her torso
below the ribcage was fatally exposed. Getting repeatedly punched in the
stomach sucked. Sadly, Dana thought the same thing and totally missed Gabrielle
flipping her over onto her stomach.

Gabrielle came down with a palm to the center of Dana's

spine. It had to hurt, but I had little doubt that if Gabby had used her fist,
the spine would have been broken.

"We are done here," Gabrielle announced calmly as

she rose to her feet. No one said a word until Dana stirred on the ground.

With varying degrees of speed, the first team swarmed over

Dana. I alone approached Gabrielle. After she finished dressing and stood, she
acknowledged my presence.

"Did you learn what you wanted to know?" I asked.

"Yes," she stated, once more into her emotionless

mode.

"Then you asked the wrong question." I drilled her

with a combination of bravery and anger. Gabrielle walked away without
acknowledging my statement. She got to the door and stopped before exiting
through the door.

"What do you think I should have asked?" she said

with a vapor of condescension.

"You should have asked us if we can help," I told

her. Maybe I'm na ve, but I'm sure she's facing her past alone.

Purity

is a paradox; we are awed by it yet we are repulsed by it as well.

Vivian was terribly subdued as she walked me back to the

dorm. It was the two of us because my Handmaiden mistress was Erica, a
second-team Karate classmate. She'd given me a rain check due to the trauma we
had all just been through during class.

"You can use my room this weekend if you like," I

broached the silence. "I'll ask Rio and Mercy to be somewhere else and
Barbie Lynn can stay with you."

"I don't want to sleep with Barbie Lynn, Zane,"

Vivian replied. "I want to sleep in my own bed."

"That's bull- , I decided saying "shit",

while a minor infraction, wouldn't do my argument any good. "You know
Barbie Lynn to be kind-hearted and decent. She's not going to molest you. You
two will be totally platonic."

"I don't know what to think," she replied. "I

never thought Barbie Lynn would be the one to have sex outside of
marriage."

"I knew she was flirty but that was it," she

continued. "Now, now she's moved into your room and is having sex with you
as if you were a married couple." She sighed. "Fine, not like a
'normal' married couple so we don't need to go there." Ah, no mention of
anal sex I see.

"Vivian, I don't like to talk about my relationships

with other women but I think Barbie Lynn would understand," I tried to
explain. "There was no seduction between us, we collided. I showed up at
FFU pretty depressed. I'd spent a long month with my Aunt trying to adjust to
America and a place and lifestyle I didn't know."

"My Aunt and I fought a lot and that Sunday Pastor Bill

and his buddies tried to shake me down for my inheritance. I had the feeling
that is why they wanted Aunt Jill in their church, and after all the crap Jill
had been through, I felt that sucked," I said. "I'm in my room, sad
and pissed off, then Barbie Lynn Masters comes soaring into my life."

"She thought I was 'Glenda's' brother, I told her my

name was Zane, and next thing I knew we were all over one another. She gave me
a blowjob and I gave her multiple orgasms and we parted ways. She thought she
might see me once a month and I had no idea this was a girl's college. You are
aware of the humiliation that followed," I concluded.

"Zane, that explains nothing," Vivian observed.

"Okay, I could have been clearer," I admitted.

"What I was trying to say is that Barbie Lynn didn't change. I allowed her
to do what she wanted to do with a guy all along. She is still the same woman
who goes after life full of enthusiasm, who likes to work with kids, teaching
Sunday school and going to church."

"And you want me to sleep with her when I've avoided

the pleasure for the past three years?" Vivian refused to give in.

"I'd want you to sleep with Iona if she wasn't already

heading out with me. I have a few others I could ask but that would be awkward.
I like Opal and Brandi but I also know they'd hit on you if given half a
chance," I outlined.

"I can sleep alone, Zane," Vivian stated.

"I know that, but do you want to?" I asked. Vivian

didn't immediately reply. "You climbed into bed with me and some of the ladies,
Vivian. There is a certain quality provided by a sleeping companion that you
enjoy. You wanted it enough to put some faith in me and Barbie Lynn last
night," I added.

"Zane, why are you making a big deal about this?"

Vivian inquired.

"Your happiness matters to me," I answered. Vivian

and I walked into the dorm and into the elevator before she spoke.

"Coach Gorman warned me about this," Vivian

groaned. "Do you realize how much easier my life would be if you grabbed
my breast or something like that?"

"Is that an invitation?" I perked up.

"No," she stated decisively. Her glare emphasized

the point. "I mean my job keeping the Devil in line would be easier if he
wasn't constantly giving me my favorite cupcakes."

"What's your favorite cupcake?" I grinned.

"Behave yourself," she sighed, somewhat amused and

somewhat exasperated.

"Yes, ma'am," I nodded.

"That's a good boy," Vivian acknowledged.

"When I'm a good boy Heaven gives me a ginger

cookie," I prodded.

"We are Not going to go there," Vivian declared

authoritatively, and that was that.

I thought I would have to stop by and pick up Iona Beckett

on my way out. I was obviously forgetting I was dealing with the most organized
person I'd ever met. I know Iona looks after all her own affairs and most of
mine, plus I suspect she keeps an eye out for Rio as well. She was waiting in
the main area of my 'room' when Vivian and I arrived, her overnight bag beside
her.

I gave her a kiss and hurried to my room, where someone had

already packed a weekend worth of stuff for me. I do not deserve one tenth of
the affection aimed my way. Being hung by my toes from a ceiling fan is a small
price to pay for what I receive. Still, I make a note to avoid girls with
bizarre foot fetishes while in close proximity to ceiling fans, my life is
pretty freaking weird enough already.

I gathered my stuff, gathered up Iona, and made my

good-byes. Brandi was kind enough to snuggle up to my back, reach around and
pinch my nipples. It was playful, not painful, so I didn't mind too much.
Besides, I had bigger fish to fry. When I told Rio that she'd need to share
another bed with Mercy for the weekend she nodded.

"No problem, Bro," Rio told me. She then stepped

up under the guise of hugging me good-bye and tried to nut me. She's a
dangerous friend to have but since I can count her public displays of affection
for me on one hand, I was ready for her.

"Damn it," Rio snarled, "you can't give my

room to that Jesus-freak!" By 'my room' she really meant my (Zane's) room
and 'Jesus-freak' was Vivian, who was eight feet away looking at her.

"It isn't going to kill you two to behave for two days,

Rio," I stated. Mercy, standing right behind Rio, remained unfortunately
silent on the subject.

"Rio, if you two would agree to abstain until I got

back, I'd be willing to let you stay, but you are the King Kong of bedroom
antics and Vivian needs the space," I explained.

"Fine, we'll crash at Aunt Jill's," Rio smirked.

"I'm sure she can't shut the door before I get a foot in. She's far too
nice to break it or kick me out." Oh yeah, I cannot begin to describe what
Jill's reaction to a Mercy-Rio lesbian love-fest at 2:00 in the morning would
be like. It would probably involve paramedics and a defibrillator.

"Okay," I shrugged. I fished out my keys and

tossed them to Rio.

"Sweet!" Rio trumpeted. "We'll meet you at

the car."

"We are not going," I corrected Rio. "Iona

and I will stay here, camp out on a sleeper-sofa, and take in some
Pay-per-View. Come by and pick us up for the party around nine tomorrow
night."

"Your loss, Princess," Rio mocked me and walked

away. Mercy loyally padded along.

"I'm sorry, Iona," I said to my petite friend.

"I promise I'll make it up to you."

"I'm not looking for any particular place but a

particular man," she smiled serenely.

"Sadly, I still have a piece of business to attend to

and I see the person I need to see," I said as I spotted Valerie playing a
competitive game of pool versus Raven of all people.

When Valerie had taken her shot I stepped up to her side.

"Can I catch a ride to the Dixie Roadhouse in the next

few minutes?" I whispered.

"Sure. Wait,  are you expecting me to hang around

when you go inside?" Val smirked.

"I've already gone a round with Gabrielle Black today

so I don't feel I deserve a second ass-whooping. I'd appreciate you sticking
around at least until the gunfire starts," I chuckled.

"Fine, I'll stay, but you'll owe me one," Valerie

smiled. "By the way, how tough is Gabrielle?"

"I'll let you know when my concussion fades," I

responded.

"That good, huh?" Valerie persisted.

"In less than thirty seconds she snapped my neck. It

took her less than five minutes to break Dana's back after that, and right
there at the end I swore I saw a lone bead of sweat on Gabrielle's brow,"
I related.

"Just so we are clear; if I ever see her chasing your

ass down like Gorman did that day, you are on your own," Valerie snorted.

"I thought you were a bad-ass," I taunted her. I

really didn't want her fighting Ms. Black on my behalf.

"Granddad is a bad-ass; I'm a teenage girl who is good

with bikes and can handle myself in a brawl but I'm not a true bad-ass. What I
am is smart enough to not attempt the craziness that is your life," she
huffed.

"Being smarter than me is hardly an accomplishment to

be proud of," I jibbed back.

Raven, who had been pretending to not be eavesdropping, made

this choking sound at that comment.

"Let me finish Raven off and I'll take you there,"

Valerie said.

"Valerie, she's killing you," I noted.

"I like a challenge," Valerie countered. She must

because Raven only had one ball left to sink while Valerie had four. Less than
a minute later Raven sent Valerie and I heading for the stairs. Iona gave me a
slight nod and grin.

Rio came storming up at us half-way down.

"You motherfucker," she snarled.

"Problems?" I replied cautiously.

"Mercy said she wasn't going with me," Rio

growled.

"What did you do?" I asked.

"I slapped the bitch," Rio retorted. I could tell

that pissed Valerie off; I wasn't too happy either. "You put her up to
this, didn't you?"

"I certainly did. I told her that she was going to have

to step up instead of taking advantage of you all the time," I explained.
"Did it hurt?" Rio knew I wasn't talking about Mercy's pain.

"Yes," she rumbled. "If I can't trust her, I

can't use her."

"Whatever you decide to do, I'll live with," I

shrugged. "I hope you know how hard it was for her to do what she
did."

Thankfully, Valerie was far more controlled than Rio and

judged the conversation to be too delicate for her input.

"Mercy is my deal, Zane. She's my responsibility and

I'll take care of her without your interference," Rio stated aggressively.

"It doesn't work that way. People aren't one

dimensional and you can't expect to help people and not have them change,"
I countered. "You changed Mercy, for the better, and that includes her
desire to take up some of the responsibility you've borne onto her shoulders.
And the only reason for her to do that is, you annoy her so much."

"Yeah," Rio finally deflated, "she was

looking pretty miserable."

"Buddies take your pizza; friends take your pain, Rio.

Get used to the fact that there are three of us standing beside you when you
need us," I reminded her.

"I wasn't asking for anyone's help," Rio insisted.

"In that case, get in Zane's car and take a trip. When the

cops finally pull you over you will have three years friend-free in
prison," Valerie now interjected.

"Ha!" Rio snorted. "That's no good. Zane

already promised to break me out if I get sent away."

"Zane," groaned Valerie, "do you have even a

passing acquaintance with common sense?"

"I get a lot of that," I answered. "What now,

Rio?"

"I go back to my room," she sighed,

"apologize to Mercy, then come back upstairs and work out a deal with
Vivian for use of your room."

"No tying them up and gagging Vivian and Barbie Lynn in

their sleep," I cautioned Rio.

"Fuck you," Rio muttered darkly. "Fuck you

and your mind-reading ability. Fine, I'll be good, okay, I'll be as good as I
can be." With that, Rio tossed me back my keys and then bounded downstairs
and out the door.

"I swear to God I would have tossed her out a window by

now, if I were you," Valerie snorted.

"Umm, she grows on you, kind of like a tapeworm,"

I chuckled.

"I think my invitation to catch a bullet has been

voided now that you have your keys back," Valerie noted. "I'll catch
you tomorrow night."

"Sure thing, but I may need you for that 'thing' if I

can set up a meeting," I replied. That thing was meeting up with a
possible undercover officer which held the possibility of being a real
disaster. Valerie was being kind enough to ignore her instincts, and her advice
to me, by helping me out.

Valerie shook her head in skeptical amusement at my poor

decision-making before we walked back upstairs. That bit of drama over, I
swooped in, picked up Iona (figuratively) and escaped my room before anyone
else could intervene. I thought we were doing quite well until I spotted
someone sitting on the hood of my car, with a suitcase.

"Hey, Paige, what's up?" I inquired with a good

deal of exasperation. It was kind of stupid, actually. I knew exactly what she
was doing here; I hadn't invited her and I didn't want her coming along on
Iona's weekend.

"I thought I'd let you spend the weekend with me,"

Paige smiled smugly. A light breeze tossed her alabaster hair across her translucent
albino features. "You are late, by the way."

"No, Paige, this is Iona's, I started to say.

"It would be wonderful spending the weekend with you,

Paige," Iona stepped up and hugged her. "It will be so great; their
house is huge, Aunt Jill is so kind, and there is the sorority right next
door."

"Okay, Paige, you can come along, but this is a no sex

weekend. Are we clear?" I warned her.

"We'll see," Paige smirked.

"I plan to sleep both nights in his bed, completely

naked and rubbing against him," Iona beamed.

"He'll crack," Paige wagered.

"No, he won't. I trust him," Iona pledged. Paige

appraised me for a second.

"Okay, I'm game. We'll see if we can break him,"

Paige allowed. I once joked with some Kappa Sigmas about joining a monastery.
I'm being driven to reconsider that option. After that exchange I was happy
enough to make it to my home in one piece. I'd have been happier if there
wasn't a police car in the driveway.

I was walking onto the porch when my ladies spoke up.

"Zane, why would the police be here?" Iona

worried.

"Zane, if they arrest you and I then attack them, will

they let us share a cell?" Paige mused.

"Iona, I have a few ideas and none of them are

good," I responded. "Paige, they don't house men and women together,
but I can probably smuggle a message to your side and tell all the lesbians
what a screamer you are."

Iona didn't get to question and Paige didn't get pick on me

before I opened the door and went inside.

"Hey, Aunt Jill," I called out, "I'm home and

I've brought Iona Beckett and Paige Zeller with me." We had already talked
over Iona's stay with Jill; Paige would be a whole new series of complicated
hurdles.

"Zane," Aunt Jill greeted me heartily. She was coming

off her lounger while Officer Danica Campbell rose from the sofa and gave me a
measured look.

"This is Officer Campbell of the Lancaster Police and

she has an official criminal matter to discuss with you," Jill finished in
a worried tone.

"Mr. Braxton, if I could have a word with you on the

porch," Danica put forth the question that wasn't really a request.

"Of course, officer," I responded. "Ladies,

could you please hang out here with Aunt Jill for a few minutes and I should be
back as soon as possible."

I walked back to the porch. When Danica passed me, I shut

the door and we turned to face one another.

"Zane," Danica smiled.

"Hey, it is good to see you, Officer Danica Campbell,

but I have a feeling this isn't a social call," I sighed.

"You are correct. There was an incident at the Dixie

Roadhouse last night and your name came up during the inquiry. The Sheriff's
Department contacted the PD and I decided that it would be more discrete that I
meet you at your home as opposed to on campus," Danica related. "What
can you tell me about the Dixie Roadhouse?"

"I went there with a few buddies, got into a fight, and

beat a Warlord named Big Ted into unconsciousness," I informed Danica.

"What do you know about a guy named Peter 'Deacon'

Baker?" Danica asked.

"He's like a big deal with the local chapter but I

don't actually know the guy," I replied. She studied me for a moment then
appeared to accept me at my word.

"This is a different crop of girls," she said with

smirk.

"Yes, they are friends of mine. Iona is a best bud and

Paige is, Paige. She's very smart but very hard to get along with at times
too," I explained.

"How is your other friend?" She tried to sound

casual. "I was curious if she'd be here tonight."

"I'll tell her that," I grinned. "It will

make her week when she hears you've asked about her. She still thinks you are
very special."

"She's quite a handful," she grinned back.

"Not that I'm complaining. I can hardly get over the sensation of her
nipples on my back as she drove into me." Heaven was going to love that, I
was sure.

Her eyes wandered northward to the adjoining property.

"More girls?" I followed her gaze to see three Kappa Sigmas coming
through the tree-line.

"Those are some Kappa Sigma sorority sisters, friends

of mine. They are cool," I told her.

"Uh-huh," she sounded skeptical. "There has

to be a story behind that that statement, I'm willing to bet." She pulled
out a business card from her breast pocket. "Here's my card, in case
something regarding the case occurs to you, or whatever."

The girls were almost on us so I had to whisper.

"You aren't, like, married, or divorced from somebody

with violent tendencies, are you?" I inquired softly.

"No," she chuckled, "and cause for you asking

that question has to be yet another interesting story, I'll bet. Maybe you can
tell me about it if we get together."

"Mr. Braxton," she said a bit louder as she took a

half-step back from me, "have a good weekend and try to stay out of
trouble."

"I'll do my best, Officer Campbell," I responded.

"Ladies," she made a passing recognition of the

Kappa Sigs as she left the porch and headed for the car.

Only when Danica's cruiser pulled onto the road did the

Kappas speak.

"Hey, Zane," Leigh spoke up first, "isn't

that the speed trap lady?"

"Yeah, she's nailed me before," I admitted, and

immediately regretted my choice of words.

"Really?" Paris prodded me. "Isn't she a bit

old for you?"

"No, speed trap, she pulled me over but I got off with

a warning ticket," I back-pedaled.

"So, she got you off," Ferrara skewered me. "Which

of her orifices was required for that?"

"Aarrrggh," I cried heavenward. "Fine, Iona

and Paige Keller are inside. Together with Jill, they will be making dinner for
those of us who care to share our table. I have to go a bar and pay off a biker
gang chieftain before he hunts me down and kills me."

"Can we come along?" Leigh smiled. "We don't

want to fight or anything like that, but I'd like to get some video of it, in
case something fun happens."

"That's right," Ferrara joked. "Something

like him being beaten up, shot, stabbed, or killed. Leigh, Zane has sustained
two beatings on our behalf. Let's not go for a third time before the month's
out."

"He didn't take a beating in the second fight,"

Paris corrected her sister. She was right; in the fight at the mall my
opponents hadn't landed a blow.

"I heard he was pretty roughly abused when he went to

jail over that," Ferrara gave me a knowing smile.

"All that conjecture is fascinating, ladies, but I do

have a guy to pay off so go inside, make yourself at home, and I'll be back
soon," I announced. I kissed each sister; Ferrara on the cheek, Paris on
the lips, and Leigh with a tonsillectomy. I double-timed it to my car and
didn't look back.

The Fading Light And The Lord Mafia.

I made it to the Dixie Roadhouse five minutes late. There

were only fifteen bikes parked out front so I figured that if something went
wrong I'd only be kinda dead, as opposed to the totally dead, killed in five or
more fashions. There were three biker babes outside the door, drinking beers
and talking; one was thankfully Willa. I made sure I had the money before
disembarking from my car and heading in.

"Hi there, Zane," Willa greeted me. I recalled

that Belle would be working at the bar near UV campus tonight and tomorrow.

"Hey, Willa, Katt, and Janet," I grinned.

"Willa, if I get out of this, can I have a moment of your time when I get
back?"

"Sure," Willa seemed curious. "I would like

to talk to you too." That was a bit odd but okay.

When I entered the Dixie Roadhouse it took me a moment for

my eyes to adjust but I knew where Deacon's table was from my last visit.
Deacon was there with two of his associates, all in similar states of
disrepair.

My first thought was: What in the hell happened to them? The

second was: Wow, they let someone in a half-body cast out of the hospital
rather quickly these days. It looked like a herd of water buffalo had worked
out the dance routine from that prison scene in the play Chicago, he had it
coming, all over their bodies. None of his infirmities kept Deacon from glaring
with horrible malevolence at me as I approached.

"Here is your five thousand dollars," I stated as

I lay the envelope on the table. None of them made a move on the money and I
began to worry. Then I took in the full effects of their injuries and I figured
out that not one of the three could reach over and get it. I opted to push the
money across the table to the closest cripple. One of the guys managed, with
some pain, to pick up the envelope and count the money.

"It is all here," the guy mumbled to Deacon. I

could see in Deacon's eyes that his hate for me was far from quenched but I
didn't know why. It wasn't like I came back and kicked his ass, oh fuck, maybe
I had.

"I'll be going, then," I said as I backed up four

steps. "I hope you feel better next time we meet." With that, I
rapidly evacuated myself from the building.

I found myself de-stressing next to Willa outside.

"So, who in the hell fucked up Deacon and his buddies

that bad?" I inquired.

"Some people were hoping you could tell us," Willa

prodded.

"It wasn't me if that is what you are worried

about," I assured her. "Tell me what happened."

"From what little we've been told or been able to

figure out, Deacon and his two senior officers stepped out to their rides
around 11:30 last night when they got jumped," Willa related.

"Then it gets weird, weirder," Katt continued.

"Their attackers dragged them thirty yards over to the electrical
shed," she pointed. That way no one could see them from the bar.

"Then they proceeded to beat the ever-living hell out

of them," Janet concluded, then took a swig of beer. I had to think about
that for a moment.

"Didn't they see who did it?" I questioned.

"Blackbeard and Booth (who I assumed were the other two

broken bikers) were knocked out before they saw anything and Deacon hasn't
related what he saw, his jaw is wired shut because it's been broken in four
places," Willa tried and failed to hide her grin. I had to think about
that for a second; Deacon's jaw looked like it was carved out of granite.

"Ladies (an affectation they found amusing), if Deacon

and his two buddies had gotten into a fight outside the Roadhouse, wouldn't the
rest of you come running, and wouldn't they have called out if they saw a gang
of guys they didn't know coming toward them?" I ruminated.

"That makes sense," Katt confirmed, "but what

does that mean?"

"One person," I muttered; "one really, really

skilled person."

"No way," Janet shook her head.

"I can and have one-punched a person and I'm only so

good," I countered. "I would have figured out which bike was
Deacon's, picked the third one closer to the door to hide behind. After that,
when he passed by me, I would come around the bike at a crouch-run and kick the
closest target where the ear and jaw meet. If I do it right his brain beats
around inside his skull a few times and it's lights out," I explained.

"It looks like you've given this some thought,"

Willa observed.

"No; the move is standard kick-boxing and the tactics

are the usual for ambushing a dangerous animal. If you come at it head-on, you
might still win but the price is much higher. Deacon and the other two talking
in a place they felt safe was the 'distraction' for the ambush," I
explained.

"Oh," Willa contemplated the scenario. I could see

her eyes walk over the parking lot as she considered the events playing out.

"Of course, that still leaves you facing two opponents,

right around six feet and 220 to 240 who are adept at violence," I pointed
out.

"If you could hit the second guy the same way fast

enough and somehow render the last one incapable of speech, Willa concluded.
"You would have to be insanely fast and if someone was that good, what
would they be doing at a biker bar in Lancaster, Virginia?"

"Don't you know? This is the destination of choice for

all international assassins on the run?" I joked. "Willa, can I have
that moment now?" She shrugged, grinned, and walked with me to my car. It
was refreshing to be side-by-side with a woman not interested in jumping my
bones. If she'd been a lesbian instead of what she was, it would have been
perfect.

"You are too young for me, Zane," Willa headed me

off.

"Cool," I answered, which was not what she

expected. "I need to talk with you a bit but not here. I don't want to
risk anyone else listening in." Now Willa appeared to be curious.

"Okay. The abandoned roadside motel on Chandler Road,

2:00 pm tomorrow," she responded.

"Thanks, Willa. And also, do you know where I can get

some fake ID's?" I asked as I got into my car.

"I'll see what I can dig up," Willa smirked. She

rejoined her buddies on the porch and was chatting away as I took off for home.

I knew that my ordeal for this evening was far from over.

There still was the hurdle of finding a place for Paige to sleep and making
sure she stayed in the room Jill and I agreed on. The struggle with Jill over
Rio had been epic enough; I certainly didn't expect the sounds of women's
laughter and modern music to be the first thing I heard when I stepped out of
my ride.

Mind you, Jill thought Rio still had moral fiber. If I told

Rio she had even a single moral fiber left she'd span Heaven and Earth hunting
the mythical beast down a la King Pellinore. On the plus side, Aunt Jill knew
nothing of Paige so I could play up that angle. I walked indoors to a chorus of
'hey' and 'Zane' coming from the kitchen.

I strode into a flurry of dinner-prep activity. Apparently

we were attempting Italian sausage ravioli, broccoli & carrots, mashed
potatoes, salad, and gazpacho. Okay, I was pretty sure Jill thought ravioli was
the invention of Chef Boyardee and gazpacho was some town in the former
Yugoslavia so I had to wonder what the fuck was going on.

As if life wasn't interesting enough, Leigh glided up,

greeted me again while whipping up the mashed potatoes, and then kissed me in a
way that could only be called familial if both our last names were Borgia. Oh,
and she did it with Jill staring right at us.

"I'm thinking of stripping you down and tying you

up," I whispered in her ear.

"I like the sound of that," she snarled playfully

in return.

"Then I'm going to leave you for a bunch of blindfolded

kindergarteners to play finger-paint with," I snickered.

"Ouch," she recoiled. "Wait, what does that

make me, molester and molestee?"

"Before or after you get revenge on me?" I joked.

"Zane," Paige materialized at my side, "what

are you two talking about?"

"Gak!" I squawked. "Woman, what are you, The

Cat that Walks Through Walls?"

"Schr dinger's Cat," Paige gleefully corrected.

Leigh's eyes were still bugged out from Paige's sudden appearance.

Leigh gingerly poked Paige with her right forefinger while

holding the bowl cradled in her left arm.

"Are you real?" Leigh prodded my albino

stealth-monkey.

"Are these real?" Paige countered, massaging

Leigh's breasts vigorously. Thankfully for me, Leigh's body shielded that
action from Jill's eyes.

"Enough, Paige, Leigh. I've got to talk to Jill about

Paige's sleeping arrangements and right now she is in a good mood," I
instructed this micro-gathering of ladies.

"Oh, it's okay," Paige smirked. "Iona vouched

for me so I'm sleeping with you guys." I clearly looked incredulous. I
mean, it took me hours working on Jill to get things like that done last time
and Jill has known me for years. Whoops; that might be the problem.

"Wow, your nipples are really getting hard," Paige

giggled softly to Leigh. She had continued to caress Leigh's goodies while I'd
been working things out mentally. Leigh could have backed up; she could have
swatted Paige's hands away or at least worn a bra. "Zane, does the 'no
sex' rule apply to the whole weekend or only to the house?"

"Umm, a no sex rule?" Leigh licked her lips.

"Yes. Zane has forsworn sex for himself all weekend

long," Paige whispered, while still teasing Leigh's nipples. "Iona
and I plan to sleep cuddled next to him totally naked. We even have a little
something extra planned for tonight."

"Why don't you tell me all about it? Zane, take the

bowl," Leigh shoved the bowl and mixing spoon into my stomach. Paige and
Leigh quickly slipped out of the room and disappeared from sight and sound. For
some perverse reason I thought that if you slept with one girl, then slept with
another one who had possessiveness issues, there would be a disagreement, silly
me.

Dinner was odd yet enjoyable with the six ladies and me. We

ate, talked, even laughed a bit. The Kappa Sigmas and us FFU's exchanged
anecdotes of our not so radically different campus lives. Girls ran in clumps
(cliques, posses, BFFs, what have you), teachers still came in three flavors,
wonderful, indifferent, and outright wretched, and they liked to talk about the
myriad interests, boys (or girls), that intrigued them.

After dinner was cleaned up and leftovers put away we

migrated to the living room. We watched a little TV and I was introduced to a
yet-to-be-experienced modern phenomena, the battle for the remote control: the
Sorority edition. Apparently it is a combination of Machiavellian politics,
mortal combat, and the exploration of sexual frontiers.

Had I known it was this much fun, I would have introduced it

to my room on the first weekend. As it was, your ally one moment would betray
you by choosing the Women's Network the next. You can defend yourself by
whatever means necessary, be it tickling with fingers and toes (damn Iona's
short, flexible legs), grabbing and fondling the breasts (or my package),
nipple pulls, kissing, and your normal wrestling moves.

At its culmination, I was triple-tackled over the back of

the sofa by Leigh, Paris, and Ferrara. I gamely held onto the remote and lue
loods until my ally Paige rescued the device. I celebrated my victory for all
of two seconds before Enchanted came on, I had been deceived! There was a vague
awareness on my part of Iona tumbling with Paige but I had my own problems.

"I don't have the remote anymore, Ferrara," I

reminded her quietly. There was no need to freak out Aunt Jill who was all of
ten feet away, in her chair on the other side of the sofa.

"You don't have the remote and I don't have

underwear," Ferrara leered down at me. She was sitting on my chest and was
pressing her hands down on my elbows. The implication of that statement wasn't
lost on me.

"I'm trying to have a no-sex weekend, honest," I

pleaded.

"We knew about it before we came over," Leigh

giggled, "and we don't believe it."

"And that is why we are all not wearing

underwear," Paris teased.

"How did you find out about this and why are you

tempting me?" I was afraid of the answer.

"Oh, the challenge is on your website," Ferrara

grinned down at me, "as well as a suggestion list for achieving
penetration from you." Oh, I was wrong; this answer was much worse than
what I had been imagining.

"This has gone all over UV, hasn't it?" I groaned.

"Yep," Leigh snickered, "along with you and

Barbie Lynn in the shower, all forty heart-racing minutes of it."

"Oh, Fucking God!" I screamed out in

soul-wrenching anguish.

"What?" Jill inquired.

"Zane got a splinter and we are trying to work it

out," Leigh answered. "We'll keep on him until we are satisfied that
it is taken care of."

"I think we are going to have to suck on it,"

Paris giggled. Iona promptly appeared, leaning over the sofa.

"No, I think Zane's difficulties will be dealt with

right before bedtime when we can get a good look at things," Iona
insisted. I was saved!

"Oh, come on," Ferrara muttered.

"I imagine a little kiss on the lips wouldn't be out of

order as a reward for your compassion," Iona offered as an appeasement.
Ferrara looked down at me, her eyes smoldering.

"Okay," the three sorority girls agreed. What that

meant for my immediate well-being was less obvious. Paris and Leigh massaged my
cock a few more times, to the point I would have been grinding my teeth in
frustration had it not been for Ferrara; apparently a 'kiss on the lips' meant
something else to her.

Ferrara did a one-armed push up, worked her shorts down then

off before shuffling forward on her knees to my face. She glowed lustfully down
at me. This would be the point where I showed how perturbed I was about these
ladies coming over and sexually assaulting me in my Aunt's house. Come on, who
do they think I am? It's not like I go over to their house and, ah, damn it.

I grabbed each of Ferrara's ass cheeks and drew her lips

over mine. As I pulled us into contact, I didn't want to have to arch my neck
to do what I wanted to do, her legs spread wide to either side of my head. I
waggled my tongue in deep for my initial approach. She was very richly wet with
an enticing aroma. While soaking in all of this stimulation I was also
convincing myself that I was still remaining true to my pledge, then Paris and
Leigh began unbuckling, unzipping, and yanking my pants down.

"Hey," hissed Iona, barely above a whisper,

"stop that." According to later accounts, one or both of the Kappa
Sigmas looked up and gave Iona a raspberry. I was buried in Ferrara's honey box
at the time, launching my own oral perversions. Normally I focus on having my
woman enjoy the experience. In Ferrara's case, I wanted her to cum hard, fast,
and soon.

I opened my mouth as wide as possible and sucked as much of

her sex in as I could, then thrashed my tongue about violently. Next I tucked
my tongue, scooped up her clit in a tight embrace and rubbed it over the ridges
of my teeth. Ferrara bucked away from the move but I held on to her deliciously
plush ass. I let her clit slip between my lip and tongue and rolled it over in
a less vigorous pattern which calmed her down.

"Ah, God, ah, God," she whistled through clenched

teeth. I would have grinned but I already had plans for my lips and teeth. I
used my stiffened lower lip to part her labia that allowed my tongue to get a
'running start' at her clit from beneath. I didn't roll over the clitoris but
crested the tip, rubbed my tongue there, and then retreated to repeat the
process again.

Every lap stole a breath from Ferrara; every withdrawal

caused her to tilt her hips to prolong contact. She clued us in to the close
proximity of her climax by slamming a fist against the floor twice in rapid
succession. Iona slipped a throw-pillow down to Ferrara but it took the girl a
moment to realize it was there. Thankfully, she was able to grab it just in
time. Ferrara placed it on the floor, pushed her face into it, and screamed.

I swear to God it wasn't my name she screamed. That's my

story and I'm sticking to it.

"Zane?" Jill called to me with curiosity.

"We've almost got that splinter taken care of,"

Paris piped up. Leigh would have agreed with that lie but she had nearly half
my cock down her throat. According to Bill Clinton, a former President of the
United States, this is not sex so my pledge was still good.

At that time Iona disappeared from sight and I had a

difficult time believing she had abandoned me. Ferrara slumped down between my
body and the back of the sofa, resting a knee on my chest. She was still taking
deep, ragged breaths brought about by her orgasm.

"Are you okay?" I whispered to Ferrara. She just

gave me a weird smile.

Leigh switched up with Paris, letting Paris put her lips on

my cockhead and lick around the circumference. I propped my body up on my
elbows so I could make eye contact.

"Come on, stop it," I hissed to Paris and Leigh.

Leigh grinned seductively and shook her head. Paris rocked

her head from side to side, which felt nice, but clearly wasn't about to stop.

"Basement," Ferrara commented. I had to assume

that was a reference to the secret basement the Kappa Sigmas kept male sexual
prisoners in, which may or may not have existed. They threatened me with it
regularly so I had reason to be worried. The Kappa Sigmas responded with nods
(brief in Paris' case) while I responded with a loud slap to Ferrara's inviting
backside. She glared at me with a surprised and offended 'O' on her lips.

That reaction turned out to be more useful than I realized.

Iona came speeding down the hallway from the kitchen with two tall glasses of
ice water. At the last second the three realized she was coming but all Leigh
could do was turn on her side. Iona dumped the glasses on Leigh and Paris.
Leigh gasped and Paris shrieked (being the least aware of what was coming her
way).

"I'm sorry, Aunt Jill," Iona said to our host to

preempt the required question. "I had to put out a fire," she
finished while looking down at the two top-soaked girls. Damn, Leigh has some
really nice nipples. "I'm going to go fill these back up and get some
paper towels to clean up this mess," Iona gave us all a cautionary look.
"Ferrara, you dropped something," Iona indicated Ferrara's shorts
with a tip of one of the glasses.

"What the hell?" growled Paris softly.

"She told you to stop that," I warned her.

"Now we can go upstairs and I will give you some of my t-shirts to
wear."

"I'm going to get Iona for this," Leigh grumbled.

"Me too," Paris added. My silence hadn't gone

unnoticed.

"Zane, are you going to get in the way of our

vengeance?" Ferrara questioned.

"Oh, hell no," I promised. "See, Iona and

Paige are part of a group at FFU called the Science Club but in reality, they
are the Time Lord Mafia. If you go after them, I'm running for cover. I promise
I'll remember ya'll fondly."

"Oh, come on now," Ferrara rolled her eyes.

"Check that: I'll remember you fondly if they let me

keep those memories. If you don't believe me, look up," I cautioned them.
We all looked up and there was Paige who had been invisibly looking down on us,
listening in.

"Hello, Ladies. Zane, I like that, the Time Lord

Mafia," Paige blessed me with a radiant smile. "I'll let Cordelia
know and I'll even give you credit for the name." She pulled out her phone
and proceeded to do just that.

"Zane, we are an international sisterhood,"

Ferrara stated smugly. "This Science Club is what; fifteen girls?"

"Hey, if you want every water source in your house to

pump out Tang, be my guest," I chuckled. "Don't say I didn't warn
you." Iona reappeared, gliding back with a towel over her arm and a full
glass in each arm."

"Zane, we are a sorority; we can deal with this,"

Leigh smirked as she and Paris stood. Ferrara began wiggling back into her
shorts.

"Leigh Douglas: born August 20th, age 21, majoring at

the University of Virginia, Lancaster with a grade point average of 3.3. Your
first dog was a silver Yorkshire terrier named Buttons," Iona stated
calmly. "Leigh, we like to know who is spending time with Zane. Paige,
what would we do first?"

"I'm partial to re-routing all their information

services to the Delta Omegas," Paige mused, citing one of their major
sorority rivals, "including giving them access to their private Facebook
accounts. I mean, nothing says "call me back for a second date" like
a relationship status update that reads 'My herpes has almost cleared up'."

"Huh?" Leigh finally managed to articulate.

"Time Lord Mafia," I reiterated. "It is far

better to have them as, if not allies, at least thinking fondly of you. Which
reminds me: Cordelia knows I'm gunning for her; right?"

"Yep," Iona responded.

"She's starting to get really curious what you are

going to do." Paige hinted for a clue.

"Whoa," Ferrara jumped back in, "how come you

can go after them but we can't, assuming that this Cordelia is one of
them."

"I live without fear," I boasted.

"We need him alive and apparently a medically induced

coma isn't an acceptable solution," Paige corrected me in a terrifyingly
clinical manner.

By the way, I was pulling my underwear and pants back on and

I had no idea what Aunt Jill was making of this conversation, what she could catch
of this over that damn 'Enchanted' movie.

"So, what is the plan, Zane?" Paige kept prying.

"I withhold comment because anything I say will be used

to undermine my intentions," was all I gave her. You see, I had no plan.

"Oh, you have no plan," Ferrara, Paige, Paris, and

Leigh stated simultaneously. I had to imagine that Iona hadn't spoken because
she didn't want to finish stomping on what remained of my dignity.

"Do not be upset," Iona knelt down and comforted

me. "When a guy has something, he brags about it, even if only by oblique
reference. It is

To be continued in part 20, By FinalStand for Literotica.

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