Bending Catherine
A sensual tale of scents and sensibilities
by Big Kahuna
Tasty Burger Productions
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2011 Big Kahuna
Cover art by Big Kahuna
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Bending Catherine
Chapter 4 ~ Rebuilding Catherine
Chapter 5 ~ Touching Catherine
Meeting Catherine
From the very first moment they met, Hayley knew she wanted Catherine. Some people would call it love at first sight, but Hayley knew it was something altogether different: it was love at first smell.
For as long as she could remember, Hayley had enjoyed a much greater sense of smell than most people. Scents and smells were as much a part of her world as vision was to others, and she quite often understood more of what was going on around her due to her more detailed sensory palette. She loved the smell of flowers, of baking things, the aromas of coffee and chocolate (separately and together), of sawdust and new-mown grass, and while she disliked the smell of cigarette smoke her olfactory sense was so acute that she could distinguish between different brands of tobacco on other people’s clothing, sometimes even days after having been exposed.
“Hello?” she said through the slightly cracked door of the dorm room, not expecting an answer, having received none at her tentative knock, but it was possible that her roommate-to-be might have her iPod cranked up. Hayley took an exploratory sniff, quickly identifying lavender, cucumber hand lotion, and pizza—correction: veggie pizza, extra sauce. She sighed, feeling somewhat disappointed, which she knew was silly since sophomores never rated a single, but there was always that forlorn hope that a late drop-out or a clerical error might result in a glorious semester of freedom and privacy. Buck up, girl, she told herself. Hopefully this one will be better than your freshman roomie Rachel, with her posters of goddamn sparkly vampires over her bed. Sighing again, Hayley entered the room that she would have to share with a stranger for the next nine months.
“Hello?” she said again, opening the door fully, no longer concerned that she might catch her unknown roommate diddling herself with her hairbrush, for she had certainly given fair warning. The dorm room was quite spacious, it being a corner room, but the layout was such that she had to walk down a short hallway—the back walls of the room’s two small closets—before coming into the room proper. Turning the corner at the end of the hall, Hayley discovered that the room was in fact unoccupied. Unoccupied, but not empty.
Her mystery roommate appeared to be already completely moved in, judging by the lack of cardboard boxes, suitcases, and other means involved in launching a young chick from the nest. The left-hand bed was neatly made, which for being just barely eight in the morning caused Hayley to worry that she might be dealing with a squared-away, anal-retentive, possibly Bible-toting neat freak.
Hayley moved past the already claimed bed and set her laptop bag and suitcase on the bed that would be hers, silently cursing herself for putting off her arrival until the second day of admissions, her need to earn an extra day’s wages having outweighed the desire to get first dibs on the room’s few simple furnishings. “Well, at least there aren’t any goddamn sparkly vampires on the walls.”
Her roommate, judging by the possessions she had in plain view, appeared to be reasonably normal. The laptop sitting on her desk, while not new, looked to be in good shape, and had none of the tape or scratches indicative of a goth. The makeup laid out on her tall dresser looked to be of fairly normal coloration; nothing too bizarre, and there were thankfully no cutesy stuffed animals lying on the bed. This one, whoever she was, appeared to have her freshman roomie beat by a long road.
It was then that Hayley noticed the pink sweater hanging on the door of the closet nearest her roommate’s bed. It was a medium pink, neither fuzzy nor fussy; a simple, classic everyday wool sweater. Since it was in the common area, Hayley felt she could get away with a quick sniff, and thereby get a good idea of her new roommate. Smiling impishly, she walked over and placed her nose just above the surface of the material, proximate to where its owner’s right breast would be, and inhaled.
Peaches? she mused, quite liking the aroma but having some difficulty placing it. No, peach-scented pipe tobacco…with hints of...vanilla…and almond. Your father drove you down here, I'll bet, probably from Chicago, more probably from Lake Forest or Winnetka, or some other tony suburb. Hayley took another whiff and got detergent, quite mild, and…is that…semen? She took another sniff, concentrating hard on the last scent. Yes, it was there, all right, a day or two old, no more. Well, you’re certainly no virgin, young lady. Did you give your boyfriend a little goodbye hummer the night before you left home? You’d best be a bit more fastidious when it comes to swallowing cum, my dear, if you don’t want Chief Inspector Moore knowing your secrets.
Hayley sighed again. The scent of jizz on her roommate’s sweater meant in all likelihood that her roommate was straight, thus putting an end to her other forlorn hope: that she might be paired up with a beautiful sister lesbian. But it had been such a lovely fantasy, spending her evenings and weekends canoodling with her very own private playmate, free from judgmental eyes, free from gossip, and free to explore every possible way there was to make love to another girl. Someone with whom she could stay comfortably in the closet and steal kisses, without anyone being the wiser.
The sound of a key in the door lock put an end to her musings. Hayley stepped back from the pink sweater, turned and opened her suitcase, so as to allow her new roommate the opportunity to discover her in the act of unpacking, rather than be surprised by someone simply standing in her room, looking at her all Hannibal Lecter-like.
“Oh, hey…hi!” came a pleasant sounding voice from behind Hayley. She turned, ready to repeat the dance she had done with her previous roommate, and looked up into the sparkling blue eyes of Catherine Wells—and almost fainted.
“Oh…” Hayley started, but nothing else followed as her brain had immediately ceased to function.
An elegant vision wearing a white, terry cloth bathrobe stood before her, holding out a hand and smiling, exhibiting the kind of perfect white teeth usually reserved for billboards. “You must be my roommate. I’m Catherine Wells, but everyone calls me Cath.”
“I-I’m…Hay-Hayley,” she barely managed to get out, automatically bringing her hand up to her throat, feeling slightly dizzy, a feeling borne out by the bed having come up to meet her rump.
“Hey, are you okay? You look a little pale. Here, do you mind if I take your pulse?” Without waiting for an answer, Catherine took the limp hand and pressed two fingers against the thumb-side of Hayley’s wrist. “Goodness,” she said, her eyes on the wall clock she’d hung over her bed, “is your pulse always this fast? I bet you suffer from low blood pressure, or maybe a little too much blood sugar. My mom’s a public health nurse, and she says girls today just don’t know how to eat properly…”
Her new roommate continued on in this vein, but Hayley wasn’t listening. She didn’t want to listen, all she wanted to do was drink in the glorious image of the girl holding her hand. Catherine was beautiful. No, scratch that—beauty was an attribute ascribed to human beings. She was sublime, majestic, awe-inspiringly, heart-stoppingly magnificent in a way that transcended mere mortals.
She had obviously just come from the shower, judging not by the knee-length kimono-style robe she wore, nor the fact that her hair was wrapped up in a towel, but because of the aroma of Ivory soap, a scent which Hayley had never realized could be so intoxicating.
Catherine continued looking at the wall clock, playing nurse, giving Hayley the opportunity to gaze upon her, which she did, taking in every inch of her new roommate’s magnificence. God, she was tall, at least a good half a foot taller than Hayley, making her at least 5 feet 8 inches, possibly a little more. Her skin was tan, but not as though she’d just summered in Mazatlán. It was the tan of a gardener, or possibly a hiker, someone who loved the outdoors and spent as much time there as possible. Her face was completely bare of makeup, which she certainly didn’t need, but Hayley knew that even a modest application of blush or eyeshadow would transform her from simply stunning into a living Aphrodite. Her cheekbones were high, but not supermodel high; her nose was straight and true, neither narrow or broad or upturned; her jaw was strong without being obtrusive; and her lips were full without looking like collagen-injected pole-smokers.
Hayley continued slowly downward, her brain in overdrive, burning Catherine’s image into her memory so that she could replay this moment whenever she wanted. Her eyes roved over the swanlike neck, imagining what it would be like to nuzzle that warm hollow, to plant little feather kisses down the length of her throat, and to ultimately disappear down into her deep cleavage, which despite the coverage of her robe appeared to go on forever.
Because deep was the best way to describe Catherine Wells’s cleavage. Better still would be to say that it was deep, rich, and inviting. Hayley sat there as her roommate continued talking, mesmerized by the movement of her full bosom as she inhaled, captivated by the soft jiggling of her breasts as she gestured with her free hand, which was something she did a lot of. Hayley had never been terribly interested in breasts, and usually found those who were to be somewhat lacking in character. ‘After all,’ she had once said to a girl with whom she’d had a brief fling, a bi-curious babe who had been rather enamored of her own modest rack, ‘they’re just boobs.’
But Catherine’s boobs were hardly just anything, except possibly just marvelous. Yes, they were big, all right; tan globes slowly rising and falling within their soft cotton confinement, yearning to be set free. Hayley realized she was staring, and tore her eyes away from her roommate’s mythic bosom, a task made doubly difficult due to the drops of water that had coalesced in Catherine’s stunning cleavage, and that were now refracting the light of the morning sun streaming through their east-facing window, causing her splendid chest to sparkle like so much gleaming treasure.
Sitting as she was, Hayley was treated to a glimpse of inner thigh, as tanned as the rest of her, and she could feel her heart race all the faster. Catherine’s legs were long and smooth, reminiscent of a ‘forties pinup, tapering down to a pair of well-turned ankles. Even her feet were beautiful, her carefully manicured toenails painted pink to match her fingernails.
“Did you eat this morning?”
“I, uh…” Hayley began, as though being awakened from a dream. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Did you eat this morning?” Catherine repeated gently. “People with blood sugar issues often get a little shaky if they don’t get in a good breakfast.”
“N-no,” she lied, hoping Catherine wouldn’t be able to smell the hours-old Sausage McMuffin on her breath, “just some coffee.”
“Well, we certainly can’t have you fainting all over the place, little miss,” said Catherine, mock sternly, releasing her grip on Hayley’s wrist. “I prescribe a big breakfast with plenty of fruit, and in between mouthfuls you can tell me all about my new roommate. Deal?” And without waiting for an answer, she turned to face the mirror over her simple dresser. Hayley watched, still finding it difficult to breathe, as the incredibly beautiful girl reached up and pulled the towel from her head, sending wave upon wave of shining yellow hair cascading downward, a golden-blonde mane that fell almost to the middle of her back.
“Oh, my,” gasped Hayley quietly, but not so quietly that it didn’t cause Catherine to give her a slightly quizzical look in the mirror. “I’m sorry,” Hayley said, mortified at her positively goofy behavior before this showstopper of a woman. “It’s just your hair. It’s very beautiful.” God, I sound like a complete idiot.
But her roommate didn’t seem to think so. She smiled warmly, causing the petite brunette to go a little weak in the knees. Catherine turned back around to face the slightly dazed girl. “Two shakes while I dress, okay?” Again she didn’t wait for an answer, which was just as well, for she quickly untied her sash and opened her robe.
__________________________
It was Catherine who did most of the talking as they breakfasted in Ikenberry Dining Hall, which suited Hayley just fine, considering that she didn’t think she could put two words together without sounding like a fool. She picked politely at her fruit plate while Catherine spoke at length about her family, her three younger sisters especially; her cat Mitzi; her boyfriend Jack, a sophomore at the University of Chicago, who she was hoping to see this weekend; her summer stint as a swimming instructor at her local YMCA; her nervousness at being a second-year transfer student; and about her goals, “…I mean, what’s so wrong with being undeclared? Lots of sophomores are still filling in their general education requirements. I mean, yes, nursing would be rewarding, but so would English lit, or physical education for that matter. Unnh!” she finished dramatically, throwing her hands up in mock frustration.
Hayley listened patiently through it all, but in actuality she’d barely heard one word in three, for the majority of her consciousness was still back in their dorm room, sitting on her bed, poring over the nude image of her roommate. All during breakfast she played and replayed the scene in her mind, her mental camera roaming lovingly over Catherine’s wondrous softball-sized breasts, her flat belly, her toned ass, and perhaps most of all her perfectly triangular bush, which left no doubt that her golden-blonde hair was entirely natural.
Despite her strong desire to do so, Hayley had not openly stared, had in fact turned away the moment that Catherine had unselfconsciously doffed her robe, not out of prissiness or modesty, which her exhibitionist roommate appeared to have none of, but rather due to self-preservation.
If someone on campus were to take a poll regarding their fellow student Hayley Moore, the responses would be widely varied: quiet, cute, smart, fuckable, intense, nice ass, driven, cock-tease, and stuck-up would probably top the list—but it would be doubtful that the word ‘lesbian’ would be there. Of course not all of these qualities were true: she had certainly not teased a cock during the whole of her freshman year, and she had been unfailingly polite in her demurrals whenever a guy asked her out. She had also been hit on by a few girls as well, from the meekly bi-curious to the more well-established gash-guzzlers, but had not partaken, no matter how tempting. It was rumored that she had a boyfriend back home in Bumfuck, Indiana, a rumor she encouraged (having started it herself), because if there was one thing Hayley loved it was the warmth, comfort, and the privacy of the closet; the freedom to be Hayley. Of course there wasn’t much sex in the closet, but she had found ways to get by.
“Oh, listen to me,” Catherine said, mildly exasperated. “This conversation’s been all about me. So, tell me about yourself.”
“There’s not much to tell, really.” Hayley pushed her uneaten strawberries away from her, hoping she wouldn’t say anything too stupid, which she felt was highly probable. She spoke at length, despite her nervousness, and Catherine listened interestedly, fascinated by Hayley’s summer job at an aromatherapy spa, impressed by Hayley’s being an organic chem major, doubly so that she’d won a full scholarship, and further awed that she already made and sold her own line of perfumes, with her ultimate goal of working in the perfume industry, and in Paris no less.
“But what about your family? Wouldn’t you would miss them terribly, living in France?”
Hayley smiled at Catherine’s theatrical choice of words, but realized that she would probably smile at anything Catherine said, for she knew that she was already in love with her. You’re such a dope, she told herself. She’s straight! Straight or not, though, Hayley didn’t care. Catherine was just so wonderful. She was just so beautiful and vivacious. She was just so everything! Her face, her hair, but mostly it was her smile. God, if she didn’t have the most beautiful smile. It was wide, it was cheerful, but most of all it was genuine. It was a smile that would never fail to light up a room, and if she turned it toward you it would be all you could do to keep your breathing steady.
“Well,” said Hayley, clearing her throat, trying to pass it off as a swallow of milk, “there’s not really much family to miss, as I’m an only child. I mean, of course I’d miss my mom and…”
“Hey, how ya doin’?” came a voice from behind Hayley. The voice was masculine, smooth and friendly, but Hayley didn’t need her sense of hearing to know that it belonged to Brendan the Breastman, his aftershave being only slightly less pungent than anhydrous ammonia. Hayley looked down at her strawberries and went quiet, grimacing slightly at the ritual about to be played out. She should have known this would happen. Catherine was a guy magnet, no two ways about it, and guys were something there was never a shortage of on the Urbana-Champaign campus. “I’m Brendan, but my friends call me…”
“Ooh, let me guess,” Catherine interrupted, her voice light, yet with a distinctly sharp edge to it, “do they call you Rudy, because you’re very rude?” Hayley instantly looked up, surprised by her roommate’s caustic response, and further surprised by her icy expression.
“Uh, hey,” Brendan brought his hands up, a little taken aback that his winning demeanor was being so cruelly attacked. “I’m sorry if I was…”
“You were,” Catherine broke in, her tone one of chill disapproval. “And if you’re so sorry, why are you apologizing to my tits instead of my friend?”
Hayley pressed her lips tightly together, determinedly suppressing the laughter that was bubbling up inside of her. She kept her eyes forward, fighting the desire to look up at Brendan to see how he was taking his quite public abuse at the hands of this goddess, although she couldn’t imagine a person as shallow as he dealing with it terribly well, a feeling borne out by his response.
“Whatever,” he said dismissively, turning away, trying to make it sound as though he were rejecting her. “Fucking lesbo,” he muttered.
“Don’t you wish,” Catherine said snidely to his retreating back, not bothering to lower her volume. She turned back to Hayley, her expression slightly sheepish. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s all right,” said Hayley, her voice soft. “I’m sure you get that a lot.”
“I do, but probably no more than you do.”
Hayley smiled at the compliment. “Not so much as you might think, and certainly not from Brendan. I’m at least two cup sizes beneath his radar.”
Catherine laughed, her smile returning, causing Hayley to feel decidedly moist between her thighs. “His loss,” she said, her blue eyes sparkling. “I think you’re a cutie, especially your hair. God, I’d love to have such beautiful, dark hair.”
Hayley was momentarily confused. Was Catherine hitting on her? But she has a boyfriend. Unless…she’s bi?
You’re imagining things, she told herself; a warning. You want her to be bi.
Hayley’s mind was spinning. Was Catherine actually hitting on her, feeling her out? Hayley had made similar remarks in her past, to other girls that she had found attractive; making a friendly compliment that was actually an opening move in the sexual dance. If the girl responded favorably the dance could continue, but if there was resistance, or confusion or suspicion, then she would simply change the subject and the dance would cease without ever really starting.
Is that what this is? Hayley wondered. Is she making the first move; seeing if I’m interested? She did strip right in front of me, for God’s sake. Paraded her gorgeous body around as though we already were lovers. Despite herself, Hayley felt her hopes rising, a mixture of excitement and dread overtaking her where she sat. What do I do? She could feel her heart racing, while at the same time her stomach was tying itself in knots. What do I say? There comes a moment in every relationship, she knew, where one wrong word or gesture can irretrievably destroy any hope for a relationship, or even friendship. But faint heart never won fair lady. It was time to man up, or woman up in this case, and take the next step in the dance.
“Thanks, Cath,” she said, determined to keep her voice steady. She’s new here. I’ll ask her if she’d like me to give her a tour. “Say, I was wondering—”
“Um, Hayley…” Catherine began, her voice shaking slightly, “I, um, I want to apologize to you.”
Hayley looked confused. “Apologize to me? What for?”
Catherine sat up straight, arching her back somewhat, causing her plenteous bosom to be thrust deliciously upward. “For my behavior back in our room. What I did, stripping like that. It…it must have shocked you.”
She’s nervous, Hayley thought, her hopes edging a bit higher. “Oh, don’t worry about that,” she said casually, trying to put her roommate at her ease, “people make such a big fuss about nudity—”
“It was very provocative of me,” Catherine continued, her eyes slightly downward, if anything more nervous, “and certainly not the kind of thing I’d do in front of a girl I’d just met. I have something to confess, and I think you should know…”
Hayley sat there, actually holding her breath, unconsciously pressing her lips tightly together. She’s going to come out right now!
“…that it was just a test.”
Hayley blinked, confused. “Test…?”
“I needed to find out if you were gay.” She said this very fast, almost blurting out the words. “I guess you could say I gave you a lesbian test. I hope you’re not angry with me. But…at least you passed.”
“…passed…?” Hayley felt numb, but could feel her numbness sliding towards anger.
“Oh, I’m sorry, ‘passed’ isn’t really the right word, is it? I mean…it’s just…at least now I know you’re not gay.”
Now Hayley really was angry. But more than that she was hurt, which her expression was clearly communicating to her presumably small-minded roommate.
“Oh, I’m saying this all wrong!” said Catherine, obviously distressed, the words pouring out of her. “I know I must sound like the worst sort of homophobe. It’s just that I needed to know…and the way you were embarrassed…the way you avoided looking at me, told me that you were straight. Please don’t think I’m a bigot, but…”
“And why would I think that?” Hayley snapped sarcastically, no longer finding Catherine quite so beautiful. “Just because you hate lesbians—”
“I was assaulted…by one…” Catherine said, her voice barely audible above the clattering of plates and the jangle of silverware going on around them, “…last year.”
Hayley’s eyes opened wide, her outrage forgotten. Catherine sat opposite her, looking somewhat smaller in her anguish, her gaze lowered to the table. “Oh, Cath. I’m so sorry. You were…?” she faltered, not knowing how to proceed, or even if she should.
“Oh, it’s not all that bad,” Catherine said quietly. “It’s not like I was raped or anything. It’s actually pretty tame stuff, really.”
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to…”
“No, you deserve to know, considering what I just put you through. It was my previous roommate. She seemed all right. A nice, quiet girl, Amber. I’d figured she was perfectly straight, not that it would have made any difference to me at the time. But one night, just after the start of the spring semester, I was having what I thought was a sexy dream, and woke up to find her sucking on my left breast.”
“Oh, my…” whispered Hayley, bringing her hand up to her mouth.
Catherine looked slightly embarrassed. “Like I said, not exactly scarred for life kind of stuff.” Privately Hayley disagreed, imagining how she would feel if she’d discovered her vapid ex-roomie Rachel suckling her in her sleep. She shuddered at the thought.
“I complained to the Residence Advisor, who told me to notify campus security, which I refused to do, because then it really would be like getting raped. Well, the R.A. must have reported the assault to someone above her because Amber was gone the next day, and no one was put in with me for the rest of the year.”
“I should hope not,” said Hayley, outraged on Catherine’s behalf.
“It was all right, at first, having the room to myself, but I come from a big family, and I don’t like being alone. I know that makes me sound terribly co-dependent.”
“No, I understand,” Hayley said sympathetically, but at the same time finding it strange. One would think a person growing up in that dynamic would relish their newfound privacy.
“Well, after my freshman year I decided that I wasn’t so terribly fond of Titty Suck U. I transferred here.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t go in for off-campus housing. You’d have a room to yourself, but still live in a house full of people.”
“I almost did that,” Catherine replied, her demeanor improving somewhat, “but I really do like living on campus, and thought I’d give it one more shot. I hope you can forgive me about that whole lesbian thing, Hayley. It was stupid of me. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, Cath,” said Hayley gently. “You’d be weird if an incident like that didn’t make you a little distrustful of your future roommates,” but even as Hayley said the words she felt a slight pang of guilt, because despite the creepiness of Catherine’s tale she secretly hoped that passing her lesbian test didn’t mean she wouldn’t be seeing her in the nude again. “So,” she continued, a little forced, trying to brighten the mood, “would you like me to give you a tour of Champagne U? Introduce you around?”
“Maybe later?” said Catherine, her mood mostly recovered. “I need to get to the bookstore, and then I really want to try the pool. Care to join me?”
“Pool,” repeated Hayley, almost inaudible. That means showers afterwards. Her mind briefly flashed on an image of the two of them in the communal showers, steam billowing about them, shrouding them, rivulets of water streaming down those perfect breasts. “Sure,” she said, her voice slightly hoarse. “I’ve got to get back and unpack first. Swing by the room after you get your books, and we’ll go.”
“All right.” Catherine grasped her purse and stood up. “See you in a bit.” But instead of leaving, she came around the table, bent down and gave Hayley a little shoulder hug, putting her roommate’s nose right into her golden-blonde mane, the scent of her lavender-vanilla shampoo causing the little brunette’s nipples to contract to almost diamond-hard points.
“Thank you again for accepting my apology, Hayley. I hope we'll be good friends. The best of friends.” And with that she straightened up and departed the cafeteria, her dazed roommate watching her pert fanny all the way to the glass double-doors and out.
Hayley looked down at her uneaten strawberries. “I am so screwed.”
Wanting Catherine
Hayley groaned as the rubbery phallus slipped inside her, and she thrust her ass backwards, wordlessly encouraging the tubular invader to further explore her depths. Inch by delicious inch it proceeded up her quivering quim, filling her completely, expanding her insides until she thought it might expel life’s breath from her lungs. “Yes!” she hissed, her eyes moist with incipient tears as the pale pink monster bottomed out, buried to the hilt, right at the very door of her cervix. It pulled back out with agonizing slowness, allowing her to feel every bump and ridge of the stiff shaft, the little irregularities along its length causing her to whimper, until it vacated her sodden snatch. It entered her again, more quickly this time, whereupon the fat dick began pistoning in and out of her, each stroke eliciting inarticulate mewls of pleasure from the cute co-ed.
“God, you are one hot piece of ass, Hayley” said a masculine voice from behind her, its owner pumping away at her bare backside.
“Less talk…more cock,” gasped the prick-spitted lesbian, her forearms resting on the low branch of the magnolia tree, her rucked-up sweater allowing her erect nipples to trail over the rough bark. It wasn’t exactly the most comfortable position to get nailed in, bent over as she was, but she made sure to keep her legs locked so that she wouldn’t collapse, scuffing her knees on the bare ground, or knocked sideways into the bushes screening the two of them from public view.
The guy sawing his dick in and out of the panting girl gave a barking laugh, and then began moving back and forth with a slow and steady rhythm, his hands on her hips, a measured tempo to ensure that he wouldn’t climax too quickly, and thus prolong his enjoyment of her lissome body.
Hayley relaxed and let him do his thing, enjoying the cool of the early evening on her exposed breasts, not to mention the fat prick working its magic inside her. Some people might think it strange that a lesbian should take pleasure in being fucked by a male, but then Hayley had never really cared much about what other people thought. She liked guys, as far as guys went, but more to the matter she liked their cocks. She liked how they felt and how they smelled (if they were clean). She liked their shape, especially the circumcised ones, the lack of a foreskin giving the flared head an almost regal quality. But most of all she liked their simplicity, their straightforward get-in-there-and-come attitude that almost always made for a good, uncomplicated, though usually all too brief time.
But that straightforward rutting quality also tended to make males somewhat self-centered, focusing almost entirely on their own pleasure. Hayley sometimes fantasized about futanari—dickgirls—and wondered how much better sex would be if such impossibly endowed creatures really existed. But upon further reflection she had decided that there would probably be precious little difference, because a dick was a dick, and it was very likely the penis itself that was at the core of men’s selfishness—after all, why else was it shaped like the letter I?
That being said, this guy Brad (or was it Bill, or maybe Biff?) was pretty good, and she could see doing it with him again sometime, although it was his bay rum aftershave more than his cocksmanship that might warrant a repeat boinking. In truth Hayley didn’t often have sex with men; they were just walking dildos that she used whenever her pent-up sexual urges began to get the better of her, and a quick jilling off in the bathroom wasn’t getting it done. In actual fact she’d indulged herself only three times throughout the whole of her freshman year.
This was her seventh time in the last three weeks.
“Unnh,” Hayley grunted, the walls of her vagina contracting about the pulsing tool inside of her. It was time. Closing her eyes, she pulled a diaphanous pink scarf up from around her neck and put it up to her nose. “Mmph…” she whimpered weakly as Catherine’s scent invaded her brain, driving out practically all other sensory input. Brad or Bill or Biff went away, save for his fat prick, which continued slamming into her, only now it was being wielded by the girl who had lately come to dominate her every thought. Catherine stood behind her now, her soft hands grasping at the smaller girl’s hips, repeatedly driving a thick strap-on into Hayley’s wet and willing cunt.
Her head resting upon her forearms, Hayley continued fantasizing that it was Catherine fucking her. This was hardly a new thought, for she had imagined her roommate so many different ways since they’d met: Cath’s golden-blonde head between her thighs, lapping away, then coming up for air, her full pink lips glistening with Hayley’s juices; or cradling those heavy boobs, feeling their warmth, their softness, tonguing an erect nipple, teasing it, and then finally sucking it into her mouth, suckling her long into the night. But most of all she imagined sleeping with her, their bodies pressed close together, spoon fashion, the dream-Catherine cuddling her as they slept.
And then there were the dreams. Sexy dreams; romantic dreams; dreams where they kissed for a seemingly endless time; dreams where all they did was talk; and dreams where the two of them walked down a dirt road, hand in hand, no words, just a shared closeness as they made their way toward the infinite horizon, a promise of forever. Her sweet roommate haunted her dreams and her waking life, driving Hayley mad with unrequited love and lust.
“Unnh…!” Brad or Bill or Biff groaned, bringing Hayley back to reality, and she could tell that he wasn’t going to last much longer. Doing her best to time his rising animal grunts, she brought the scarf back up to her face just as he pulled her ass fully backwards, impaling her on his spasming cock. Hayley gasped, taking Catherine’s scent as deep into her lungs as her impromptu date was into her, the double penetration driving her instantly over the edge.
“Mmmph…!” she screamed into the scarf, an all-consuming orgasm made possible by the sensory illusion of her unattainable love. Hayley’s moans continued unabated while Brad/Bill/Biff got his rocks off inside her, her cries of pleasure muffled within the folds of scented fabric, which she fantasized were the folds of Catherine’s soft, sweet pussy.
__________________________
“You’re going to get a reputation, Hayley-girl,” she said under her breath as she made her way back to the dorms. Great, she thought, not only am I in danger of becoming the campus slut, now she's got me talking to myself.
She continued her solitary journey across the campus, her head bowed, her arms crossed underneath her modest bosom, her insides feeling slightly squishy after the great sex (there were no worries of there having been a deposit left behind, though, for Hayley had made sure to provide a condom of her own—ribbed, of course—even to the point of rolling it onto Brad/Bill/Biff’s prick herself).
You know this can’t continue. You’re going to have to do something about it.
And just what am I going to do? she challenged herself. Am I going to come out to her? Confess to Catherine that the roommate she’s come to trust is really a lesbo who’d suck her pussy if she so much as crooked her finger?
She’d had this argument with herself before, quite often in fact, its frequency increasing with each passing day, each time the outcome becoming more hopeless, resigned to loving Catherine from afar, afar being unfortunately just across the room. But the thought of being further away from her than that was unbearable: of not being able to hear her soft throaty voice, especially when calling her ‘Little Miss’, a nickname she used half-jokingly whenever she thought Hayley was misbehaving in some way; watching her brush out her long luscious hair before bed, her rhythmic strokes almost always hypnotizing Hayley; or sneaking peeks while she did her morning yoga exercises, her movements smooth and graceful; and yes, seeing her in the nude, displaying that breathtakingly beautiful body as though she were providing a private show for Hayley alone.
But there was more to Catherine than her beauty, which was certainly the least of her qualities. She was polite to a fault, always asking if Hayley needed something washed when doing her own laundry, or if she might like a soda from the machine since she was getting one for herself. Only yesterday she had noticed a small rip in one of Hayley’s sweat tops, and had repaired it in under an hour (asking beforehand if she’d wanted it done, of course).
Catherine was wonderful. She was perfect in every way a woman could be perfect. She was the woman that every man wanted, and the woman that every woman wanted to be. She was also the woman that Hayley most desperately wanted for her own, and she was the one woman Hayley couldn’t have.
But Catherine was all she could think about, and she daydreamed constantly of her, of a life with her: a little house with a white picket fence, the beautiful blonde waiting for her at the front door, wearing a frilly apron (pink, naturally), martini in hand. They would make dinner together, Catherine asking interestedly about her day. Later on they might sit on the divan, listening to music, their hose-clad legs touching, perhaps a back rub after. And then bed; lying next to one another atop rumpled sheets, their bodies spent from an hour of joyous loving, the smell of sex upon the air. She sometimes imagined Catherine pregnant, her belly swollen, smiling beatifically in maternal bliss, her already large breasts heavy with milk. Hayley even included herself in the pregnancy scenario from time to time, imagining her own stomach equally huge, perhaps even from the same donor, giving birth together, side by side, sweating and huffing and grunting, holding each other’s hands as they brought new life into the world.
But that was a fantasy, a dream life. The reality was that her roommate was irretrievably straight. Oh, it was barely possible that Catherine could conceivably forgive her for having lied to her (should a lovesick Hayley be so stupid as to come out to her), and perhaps possibly even accept Hayley for what she was (though she was not so deluded as to imagine that Catherine would ever reciprocate!). It was far more likely that an angered and betrayed Catherine would vent her righteous fury from the rooftops, and with it the knowledge of her deceitful roommate’s sexual identity, thus ending Hayley’s ability to be just Hayley, consigning her to spending the rest of her college days as Hayley the Lesbian.
Of course Hayley knew there was nothing wrong or shameful about her sexual preference. But she also knew full well what happened to girls once they were out, or outed. Yes, she could expect harassment, by small-minded guys and girls alike, but the thing she would not be able to abide was not the negative reactions of people, but rather the positive ones, and the total loss of privacy that would come with it. ‘What do you think about gay marriage?’ ‘Have you always liked girls?’ ‘I know how you feel. I think cocks are kind of ugly, too.’ Once it was known that you were a lesbian, it became the first and last thing people saw or thought about you. She had watched it happen to other girls in high school, and she had no wish to continue her education like that.
But then again she might not have to. Getting a ‘C’ on her first essay in Intermediate French had come as a shock—it was the first ‘C’ she'd gotten in anything since junior high. She’d also missed a lab in her Organic Sci class, and had completely blown off a quiz in Calculus II, making it up the following day, but only getting eighty percent credit for having been late. The daydreams and distractions were beginning to affect her grades, and that was something she could not allow to let continue. Losing her scholarship would cost her her education, her career, Paris, and most of all it would cost her Catherine.
Two people turned the corner ahead of her, heading her way; a boy and girl, coming from the direction of Flagg Hall, Hayley judged, and making a beeline for the very same magnolia that she had just made use of. Hayley put her head down and looked at the pavement, having no wish to be seen.
“Fuck!” she muttered angrily once they’d passed, then looked back to see whether the young lovers had noticed her outburst, but as each of them had their hands down the backs of the other’s pants she felt it unlikely that they would notice the school marching band.
So what are you going to do? she asked herself, turning the corner of Barton Hall’s concrete walk, her short skirt brushing against the manicured front hedge as she did so.
There was only one thing to do. She had known it for weeks, and had done her level best to actively avoid thinking about it, but with her education hanging in the balance Hayley knew she had no other choice: she would have to leave Catherine.
Of course she couldn’t rent a place off-campus; she had no money. No, she would have to trade with another resident. It shouldn’t be too hard to find someone with whom to trade. Hell, she could even, in that grand tradition of Chicago politics, auction off her spot to the highest bidder. As popular as Catherine was, Hayley could probably get enough to buy herself a new laptop.
Swiping her ID in the slot let her into her building, which might not be her building for much longer. How would Catherine take it? Would she be hurt? She would certainly want to know why her roommate was dumping her, as would a lot of other people. What would Hayley tell them?
“Christ, what a mess!” she said under her breath, narrowly avoiding missing a step on the stairs up to the second floor. You’re a mess! she continued inside her head, the need to loathe herself only serving to escalate her internalized anger, causing her to actually miss a step as she gained the landing, making her grab for the railing, sending her purse to the floor.
“Oh, God, what a mess!” she said, her voice breaking as she brought a hand up to her mouth, frustrated tears forming at the corners of her eyes as she surveyed the mass of condoms and fragrance sticks that had spilled from her purse. She quickly knelt down upon the landing, the rough carpeting pressing uncomfortably into her bare knees as she gathered up her things, a silent stream of thought running through her mind as she did so. But it’s my mess, and I’ll clean it up. Catherine will be hurt, and she’ll probably hate me, but there just isn’t any other way. She’s straight and I’m not, and that’s the way of the world. She’s straight and I’m not, she’s straight and I’m…
Hayley knelt awhile, even after the landing was cleared of her possessions, slowly coming to terms with the reality of the situation. Catherine, through no fault of her own, was driving her to distraction and threatening her education, and thereby her future. She was straight and therefore unattainable. If she continued to live with Catherine she would lose everything, therefore she had to leave. That was it.
Hayley sighed, a desultory acceptance of the way things must be. She stood up, wiped her eyes, and took a deep breath, composing herself, and then opened the door onto the second floor hallway.
She made her way down the floor, greeting the occasional girl, quite a few of them Austen-esque in their silliness. “Hey, Hayley,” called Jennifer from her doorway, which was one down from hers. She was a tall-ish, slightly horse-faced sophomore from Indianapolis, and while their relationship was cordial there was a trace of animosity, for she had been one of the girls who had hit on Hayley the previous year, and apparently had not liked being rebuffed. “Why don’t you and Cath swing by later? Sarah from upstairs is getting us some beer.”
Hayley smiled crookedly; she had seen Jennifer’s lingering glances at Catherine, and knew she would like nothing less than to get her soon-to-be ex-roommate drunk and feel her up. “Thanks, Jen, but Cath’s off with her boyfriend for the weekend, and I’m up to my neck in work.”
“Cath’s out?” said Jennifer, looking slightly confused. “Oh, well. If you change your mind…” she let the invitation hang, and turned back to enter her room but stopped short. “Oh, and Hayley…?”
“Yes, Jen?” Hayley replied, her key in the lock.
“You might want to wash your knees,” she said a touch waspishly, nodding at Hayley’s bare legs, which were waffled and dirty from their contact with the carpeting. “That’s how a girl gets a reputation, you know.” She sauntered back into her room, a small smile on her horsey face, apparently pleased that she had scored on Hayley.
Shit, thought Hayley, reaching down and wiping away the evidence of a sex act she hadn’t even committed. If that isn’t all I need, to have Jen the Mouth telling everyone I’m a cheap date.
Shake it off, Hayley, she told herself. You’ve got the whole weekend to knuckle down and study, with no temptations or distractions other than the occasional break for Champagne U’s less than stellar cafeteria pizza.
Hayley opened the door to her room, her mood somewhat brightened by the knowledge that she wouldn’t have to think about the ‘Catherine Problem’ for at least the next two days, not to mention having the opportunity to study in relative peace. She discovered, however, upon turning the corner into their shared living space, that even the best laid plans of mice and lesbians gang aft agley.
“Hey, girlfriend,” said Catherine, reclining on her bed, looking like a page out of a Playboy pictorial, still wearing the little black dress she’d modeled for her roommate earlier, the cause of Hayley’s going out in search of some much-needed relief.
“W-what are you doing here, Cath?” asked a surprised Hayley, her pulse quickening to a faster rate than during her recent boffing. “Shouldn’t you be counting ceiling tiles in some seedy motel room right about now?”
“I should be,” she said with an exasperated sigh more suited to Broadway than a university dorm room, “but Jack called just after you left for your walk, and told me that he’s beginning to fall behind, so I got stood up in favor of Western Civilization III. And here I thought getting a little nookie was the goal of Western civilization.” She sat up and sighed again, her fetching bosom heaving slightly over the bodice of her strapless satin dress.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Hayley replied, almost but not quite averting her eyes from Catherine’s considerable mammalian charms. “But why are you still dressed for a night out? Got a stand-in waiting in the wings?” she teased.
“Don’t I wish?” said Catherine, getting up from the bed. “No, I guess I just wanted to feel sexy for a little while longer.” She pivoted on a spike heel, turning toward the mirror over her dresser, giving Hayley a crotch-dampening view of her sweetly rounded backside. Catherine regarded her stunning reflection for a moment or two, more appraising than narcissistic. “Oh, well,” she said resignedly, reaching up and removing the lacquered black chopsticks holding her hair up. A shake of the head sent her golden mane to tumbling about her soft shoulders, causing Hayley to whimper. “It’s not as though I was going to have the dress on for long anyway, but I was hoping to work off a little tension, if you know what I mean.”
“I know exactly what you mean, Cath,” Hayley said smiling, which considering that her own tension levels had shot back up to pre-Brad/Bill/Biff levels came off more as a grimace. Catherine missed her pained expression, though, as she was busy trying to reach behind her to unfasten her zipper. “Here, let me,” Hayley offered. The little brunette stepped forward and reached up to take hold of the zipper, instantly regretting her offer of help, for this was just the sort of intimate gesture that she had so often imagined as part of her dream life.
“Thanks, Hayley,” Catherine said brightly, reaching a hand back to lift her hair up and out of the way, which only served to place her fragrant locks that much closer to Hayley’s nose.
Unable to stop herself, Hayley breathed her in, the scents of her roommate’s hair, perfume, and body wash intoxicating, but underneath them all was the delicate aroma of her—sweet, with an underscent of spice. Hayley swooned, the rich bouquet of the woman she loved having much the same effect as a snifter of brandy would on an alcoholic. God give me strength! With her hair up, Catherine’s long neck was exposed, her gloriously tan skin making her look like a bronze Greek statue. Leaning in, Hayley took hold of the zipper, shifting her hips slightly and grinding her thighs together in an unconscious response to her roommate’s overwhelming sexuality, and pulled.
The zipper whispered slowly downward, Hayley’s fingers registering the separation of each tooth as more and more of Catherine’s sensational body was revealed. The love-struck girl savored the moment, stretching it out for as long as she could possibly get away with, for she didn’t know if she would ever have such an opportunity again. As the zipper continued its southward course, Hayley could feel the warmth rolling off of the taller girl’s back, could feel that warmth spreading throughout her own body, her own breasts warming in response, the warmth continuing downward, over her belly and finally settling in her sex, her sopping pussy more desirous of a kiss than she could ever remember.
The zipper was a little more than three-quarters of the way down now, almost to the swell of Catherine’s hips. It would be so easy to snake her hand inside the material, to feel her way along Catherine’s skin, so much smoother than the satin that was now only barely covering her, questing onward, slowly around her rib cage, her palm coming upward to cup a full breast. She inhaled again, the scent of wildflowers and sweet baby powder acting as an aphrodisiac, making her drunk. Hayley leaned in, unable to stop herself, her lips separating, desiring only to make contact with the base of Catherine’s neck.
“Thanks, Hayley,” Catherine said brightly, turning, holding her dress against her bosom with one hand while deftly removing a dangly earring with the other. “You’re just about the most wonderful roommate a girl could ask for.” And before Hayley knew what was happening, being still a little bit woozy from the act of unzipping her dream girls dress, Catherine had leaned in and was putting her soft lips to her cheek in a sisterly fashion that nonetheless felt as though she’d planted a wet kiss directly on her clit. “Better than a sister.” Catherine turned away, leaving a slightly dazed Hayley wreathed in her scent, and began placing her jewelry upon her dresser.
“Oh, look at us,” Catherine said to Hayley via her reflection in the mirror, sounding mildly exasperated. “A couple of old maids on a chilly Friday evening, with no men to keep us warm.” She turned back to Hayley, a devilish look in her eye, and Hayley could feel her breathing pick up again, amazed at how much control Catherine seemed to have over her. “Say, I know what we could do to work off some tension, and we wouldn’t even need any stupid boys to do it, though we’d have to take a shower afterwards.”
“Yes…?” said Hayley thickly her voice seeming to come from a long way off, as though she were speaking through an empty paper towel roll. She looked into Catherine’s mischievous eyes, not daring to believe that she could possibly be suggesting what she so very much wanted her to suggest.
“The pool’s still open for another hour yet, and I bet if I wear my white bikini, that cute lifeguard will let us go a half-hour longer. What do you say?”
Hayley looked over at her desk, covered with more half-finished paperwork than she could ever remember, her weekend’s work waiting to be completed. But then she saw an image of Catherine standing in front of the desk, her golden body clad in her white bikini, wet, as though having just stepped out of the pool, her large areolae clearly visible through the sheer material.
“Let me get my suit, Cath.”
__________________________
Catherine was wrong about the lifeguard letting them swim an extra half-hour; so intent was he upon her exquisite form that he’d let them go a full hour and a quarter before a campus security guard had come in and shut it down. The two girls laughed about it all the way back to their dorm, but most of Hayley’s mind was still back in the showers, seeing Catherine’s exquisite form wreathed in steam, her golden body glistening from a layer of soap, her beautiful breasts shimmying as she dried off.
A group of guys whistled at them as they passed, Catherine pointedly ignoring them and slipping her arm into the crook of Hayley’s elbow. The whistles grew louder and were now accompanied by mock groans. “Guys,” Catherine said, giggling. “So predictable, aren’t they?”
“Mm-hm,” Hayley replied, not trusting herself to form words, thankful that she’d gotten Brad/Bill/Biff’s cell phone number, though the sexual tension he’d helped to relieve had since multiplied to the point where she didn’t think even Champagne U’s football team could possibly cool her down.
__________________________
Hayley awoke to the sound of moaning. She opened her eyes, instantly wide awake, wondering if she was hearing what she thought she was hearing, or if she was dreaming it.
“Mmm…” it came again, a soft sound from the other bed, a sound that stole through her, settling in her lower belly, making her very much want to rub her thighs together, full well knowing that it was an itch she daren’t scratch. More moans came; mewling, almost plaintive cries that drove Hayley to the edge of sanity. I’ll bet she’s dreaming about her boyfriend. She surely isn’t masturbating, is she? She closed her eyes, determinedly keeping her fingers away from her soaked slit. Well, whether Catherine was dreaming or jilling off, Hayley had no desire to interrupt her. Nor did she wish to miss it.
Sighing, Hayley rolled over in her bed, trying to make it appear as though she was quite sound asleep. The room was warm, uncomfortably so, the heat apparently having come on after the two of them had gone to bed, but she wasn’t about to doff her covers if it might put Cath off of what she was doing. She settled on her right side, eyes closed, listening for any change in her roommate’s behavior. The moaning continued unabated, so she was either dreaming, or too intent upon her own pleasure to notice Hayley moving about. Hayley took a slow deep breath, inhaling Cath's sex scent, her own pussy practically vibrating in response to the pheromones she was taking into her lungs.
Hayley could stand it no longer; she had to see what Catherine was doing. Very slowly, ready to shift her head into the soft fabric of her pillow should her masturbating roommate be keeping a watchful eye on her while getting herself off, she opened her left eye, and was frustrated to discover that she was unable see Catherine behind the wall of blankets she had undoubtedly thrown off in the heat.
Damn! Hayley thought. Here she was only scant feet away, their beds being at a ninety-degree angle to one another in the northwest corner of the room—a bit of redecorating that Catherine had marshaled on their second day together—yet she might as well be across the room! Well, I'm going to be moving out anyway. I might as well grab an eyeful while I can. I can always say I thought she was having a bad dream.
Hayley slowly slipped her bedclothes downward, glad that she had opted to wear her plain cotton panties to bed rather than her football jersey nightshirt, for the room was warm almost to the point of stifling. She sat up, conscious of her every movement, and peered hesitantly over the assorted rumpled sheets and blankets that screened her roommate from view, thankful that the blonde beauty’s impassioned moans prevented her own surprised gasp from being heard.
Catherine was completely and utterly nude. Now this was nothing new, certainly; Hayley had seen practically every inch of her knockout body on numerous occasions. Hell, she’d seen it in the showers only hours ago! But this night (or perhaps it was the morning—she was certainly not going to tear her eyes away from the vision on the bed so that she could check her alarm clock!) her Valkyrie roommate was far and away a more dazzling sight to behold for every inch of her was bathed in silver moonlight streaming through the window over her bed.
It was the single most erotic sight Hayley had ever beheld. Catherine lay on her bed, jerking and moaning, her movements erratic, her moans peppered with half-formed words, apparently very much enjoying the attentions of...who? Hayley wondered. Her boyfriend, perhaps? Or maybe that cute lifeguard. Her eyes were closed, looking not so much like she was asleep but rather in the throes of some unearthly passion. Her full lips moved constantly, as though kissing someone, and then began making little moues of pleasure, perhaps in response to having an erect (oh, so erect) nipple tweaked by her dream lover.