Wild College Nights

"What the hell happened to you?" Becky almost lunged off the bed as Liz came through the door of the small studio apartment.

Becky had still been asleep when Liz had left for art class. The sight of her friend - despite weeks of shared living space and passionate sex Becky still wouldn't allow herself to think of Liz as her girlfriend - was startling. Liz's provocative miniskirt and halter top, clearly without bra, was really only a little more extreme than her usual attire, hardly worth surprise. The drops of dried blood spattered on the milky curve of her full breast and the edge of the top, however, along with the wad of bloodstained tissues which the coed held to her ear as a crude bandage was more of a shock. Liz's long curly brown hair was tousled and disarrayed. She looked... Becky hesitated. Liz looked strangely wild, almost feral. Becky found she wasn't sure whether she wanted to rush to Liz's side or back away slowly.

"I got fucked," Liz smiled at Becky, in a way that wasn't at all reassuring, while dropping her bag on the bed they shared. Behind Liz, a tall dark man stepped into the apartment, closing the door lightly. Derrick.

Becky sucked in a tense breath, jealously surging through her momentarily, obliterating her half hearted denials about her feelings for Liz. Derrick was the definition of darkly handsome: dark hair, dark eyes, dark clothes, but strangely without the goth pretentiousness that should have come with it. He radiated an air of confidence and control that was thrilling and frightening all at once. Becky's feelings toward Derrick were no less intense and confusing than her feelings toward Liz.

"You," Becky seethed at him. Derrick regarded her mildly, his face betraying nothing of his mind.

Momentarily confused, Liz looked from one to the other, struck by the contrast between the passionate, blonde coed and the controlled, dark grad student.

"Becky, no," Liz said, suddenly comprehending, "Derrick just walked me home. You know he would never..." Liz smiled, "well, unless you said it was ok."

Derrick inclined his head slightly, acknowledging the point without saying anything. His dark eyes never left Becky's. Becky looked away, trying to conceal her unwillingness to meet his gaze for long behind her jealous anger.

"But," Becky stammered, reaching toward Liz's bloody ear, "what happened? Are you ok? Who did this?"

"Professor Ashton, my art teacher," Liz almost cheered, sounding triumphant. She lowered her hand from her ear, glancing down at the bloody tissue. "He was a little rough, but it was ok." Seeing the concern in Becky's eyes, Liz smiled, "It's ok. Really. I'm going to get cleaned up." With a smile and a deliberate wag of her hips, Liz turned and swayed into the apartment's small bathroom.

"God, she is such a slut," Becky cursed, practically quivering with jealousy. She wheeled to face Derrick only to be brought up short by the flash of anger on the man's normally composed face. "What?"

"I don't like the way John Ashton treats women," Derrick said, his usually soft voice thick with menace.

"Derrick, you're a dom," Becky said, in puzzled shock. "I've personally watched you put clothes pins on a helpless woman's nipples and beat her with a stick." The blonde coed turned away, to hide her sudden blush at the memory. In getting to know Liz and Derrick, Becky had found her sexual horizons expanding in surprising ways.

"That's different," Derrick said dismissively.

"Whatever," Becky snapped. "Where does she get off fucking her art teacher, anyway?"

"I believe she got off while bent over a table in the art room," Derrick replied smoothly, clearly unwilling even in his own frustrated anger to let the straight line pass.

"What?" Becky whipped around to stare at him, "Did you watch?"

"No, but as I said, I know the way Ashton treats women," Derrick replied. Then his dark eyes glittering as amusement briefly overcame his anger. "Also, I could hear her. Liz can be quite a screamer."

"I'll make her scream," Becky snapped, then shouted, "Liz, get your ass out here."

"I should go," Derrick said softly.

"You stay right where you are," Becky snarled.

Derrick raised an eyebrow, smiling slightly. For a moment, Becky felt the air of absolute confident command that Derrick usually kept carefully masked. For a moment, Becky wanted to sink to her knees and beg him to forgive her for snapping at him. She pushed the feeling aside, but still changed her tone.

"Please," she added. Becky couldn't command him, but she could ask. She wasn't altogether sure why she wanted him here. Only that she did.

Liz came out of the bathroom, fidgeting as she checked the band-aid she had tried to wrap around her bleeding ear. She had cleaned the blood off her neck and breast, and the thin straps of her halter top hung loose around her arms. She stopped, looking from Derrick's smooth composed face to Becky's flushed, passionate one.

"Let me get this straight," Becky snapped, trying to sound firm and commanding. "Your art teacher fucked you."

"Yeah," Liz smiled back.

"You walk into this home that we share and tell me you let you art teacher fuck you," Becky felt her jealous rage rising like a wave.

"Um," Liz hesitated.

"You're mine," Becky snarled. "You don't fuck anybody without my permission!"

"Becky, I'm sorry," Liz said quietly. She'd been flirting with Professor Ashton long before she'd met Becky. The consummation of the chase had been completely separate in her mind from her relationship with the pretty blonde coed. Liz hadn't even thought about the idea that Becky might be upset.

"What," Becky snarled. Her breath was coming in short, heavy gasps. She could feel her body growing warm with passion. Her nipples visibly hardened against her t-shirt.

Liz looked at her blankly, shaken and silent in the face of Becky's anger.

Becky stalked across the apartment until she was almost touching the other woman.

Looming over Liz by the difference in their heights, Becky glared down at her. Liz looked up at the blonde coed, meeting her eyes meekly. Becky grabbed Liz's chin and kissed her passionately. She felt her lips bruise against Liz's teeth with the force of their embrace, her tongue thrust almost violently into the other woman's mouth. Liz moaned, her body melting against Becky's. After a moment, Becky sharply pulled her face away from Liz.

"What did you say," Becky snarled quietly.

"I'm sorry, mistress," Liz replied meekly. "I shouldn't fuck anyone without your permission, mistress. I belong to you. Only to you."

Becky felt as if she couldn't breathe. She loomed over Liz, trying to be menacing and controlled. Trying to ignore the weakness in her knees as the intensity of her feeling for the other woman briefly overwhelmed her.

"I did wrong," Liz continued, her eyes downcast, "I deserve to be punished."

"Yes," Becky answered hoarsely. "Is that what you think?"

"Please, mistress," Liz begged, her downcast eyes briefly flicking up to her lover's face, then away. "Please punish me."

"Take your clothes off," Becky replied, her voice heavy.

"While Derrick is here, mistress?" Liz whispered coyly.

Right, Becky thought, Derrick who is standing behind us watching this. Which, she realized, was part of what she wanted.

"Derrick," Becky said loudly enough for him to hear her.

"Yes," Derrick's cool voice replied.

"Liz needs to be punished for her indiscretion," Becky said.

"She is yours." Derrick said evenly, "You are free to do what you will."

"I would like you to witness her punishment," Becky continued in a rush. There, she'd said it.

"I would be pleased to do so," Derrick replied and Becky thought she heard the desire in his voice.

Becky turned her attention back to Liz. "I gave you a command, slut."

"Yes, my mistress," Liz said huskily.

The curvy brunette coed stepped out into the middle of the room, where both Becky and Derrick could see her clearly. With a smooth, sensual motion she pulled her halter top over her head and tossed it at Becky's feet. The pale skin of her firm, full breasts and taut belly seemed to shine in the light. Becky could see the faint bruising around one her hard nipples. With a slow smile, Liz untied her wrap-around miniskirt and let it fall to floor. The brunette turned slowly, displaying her firm ass, but all Becky could see was the red, swollen lips of Liz's clean shaven pussy. She imagined she could see the shine of the art professor's cum on her lover's wet folds.

"The table." Becky said, with a sudden inspiration, "Bend over the table. You liked to be bent over a table and fucked so much. Now you'll be bent over and punished."

Obediently, Liz turned and bent herself over the apartment's small dining table, presenting her raised ass to her mistress. Between her firm thighs, Becky could still see the slick, swollen folds of Liz's pussy.

Eyes fixed on Liz's wet pussy, Becky stalked across the room and delivered a powerful blow to Liz's upturned backside. Liz yelped at the sudden sharp stinging pain. Becky unleashed all her jealously and frustration into a furious rain of open hand blows the feel on Liz's firm, upturned ass. The brunette coed yelped and twitched with each slap.

"Punish me, mistress," Liz moaned, "Punish me."

Becky continued remorselessly. Her hand stung from the force of the blows she delivered. Liz's ass grew red under the rain of blows. Liz's yelps became gasps and cries. Her body writhed under Becky's hands, trying to escape the pain of the savage spanking.

"I'm sorry, mistress," Liz sobbed. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

Panting, Becky stopped. Her hand ached and Liz's ass was bright red. Spanking was a regular part of their lovemaking but this, Becky realized, was something more. Becky felt breathless and giddy. She turned and look at Derrick.

The dark haired man stood silently where he had been, unmoving. His dark eyes bored into her and, not for the first time, Becky wondered if he could see straight into her head. Only the hard bulge straining against his tight black jeans betrayed what was going on in his head.

"I'm sorry, mistress," Liz continued to pant.

Becky laid her hand lightly against Liz's red ass, stroking it. The brunette twitched and whimpered at the touch, but Becky's eyes stayed locked on Derrick. How far do I go, she wondered to herself.

Turning suddenly, Becky stalked across the apartment to Liz's wide old bed. Without pretense, the blonde pulled her t-shirt over her head and tossed it aside. Her breasts, smaller and firmer than Liz's, swayed in cool air. Dropping down to sit on the edge of the bed, she quickly pulled her shorts and panties off and threw them as far across the room as she could. Since starting with Liz, Becky had shaven her pussy into a neat strip. Now under Derrick's dark, dominating gaze, without clothes and almost bare of hair, she felt more naked than she ever had before.

Becky fixed her eyes on Liz, still bent over the dining table, her red ass raised in the air. Liz was a total slut, Becky thought. Willing to give it up any time, any place, to almost any one. Once, Becky had hated that as much as she had hated the brunette for her large breasts, taut belly, firm ass. But Liz was Becky's slut now. Hers, completely and totally.

"Come here, lezzie Lizzie," Becky growled. "Crawl over here and please your mistress."

Liz slid, liquidly, off the table and down to her knees. Arching like a cat, she turned to drop to all fours and crawled toward her mistress. Her heavy breasts swayed as she crossed the room. She cast a single, smoldering glance at Derrick, then fixed her eyes on Becky until she knelt before her mistress.

Becky slid to the edge of the bed, spreading her legs wide. Without waiting, Liz lowered her face between her lover's thighs. Her tongue darted out, parting the wet folds of Becky's pussy. The blonde coed moaned as the fevered desire she hadn't realized she was feeling washed over her.

"Oh god, Lizzie," Becky moaned, "My Lizzie... my beautiful Lizzie... Oh, yes. There. Oh, god... yes!"

Becky's fingers tangled themselves in Liz's curly brown hair, pulling the other woman's face harder against her wet pussy. Becky's hips rocked as Liz's tongue probed deeply into her wet folds. Becky groaned wildly as the seeking tongue lashed against her sensitive clit.

"That's it," Becky cried, "Oh my beautiful slut... yes, just like that. Don't stop, Lizzie. Ooooo... don't... stop."

Liz buried her face into Becky's pussy, her tongue working feverishly. She moaned as Becky's fingers clenched in her hair, pulling her close.

"Oh... oh... oh, god, Lizzie," Becky screamed. "Yes... yes... yyyyeeeessss!"

Becky convulsed, curling inward around the center of pleasure when Liz's frantic tongue touched her pulsing clit. Pleasure rocked her to her core, blinding and ferocious. Liz's tongue continued to softly lap at her, sending sparks of sensation through her, waves of pleasure so intense they verged on agony.

"Stop," Becky moaned, finally pushing Liz's head away, "Oh god, stop. That's enough."

Shaking, Becky collapsed on the bed. Slowly, she looked up to see Derrick standing over them. Becky moaned as another tiny wave of pleasure washed over her at the realization of what the tall, dark man had witnessed. Glancing down, she saw Liz still kneeling in front of her. Smiling, Becky brushed her hand through Liz's hair.

"My Lizzie," Becky sighed softly.

Slowly, Becky pulled herself back up to sit on the edge of the bed. She turned to face Derrick, leaning back to display her full, flushed naked body.

"Derrick," Becky said softly, "I want to thank you, for walking Liz home."

"Most kind of you," Derrick answered in his soft, powerful voice. His dark eyes swept down across Becky's body, lingering in places that made Becky shudder inwardly. Derrick's gaze lowered further to examine Liz where she knelt. Becky saw Liz's breath quicken, her breasts heaving and her body quivering slightly under Derrick's intense dark eyes.

Becky took a deep breath, preparing herself for a plunge.

"Liz," Becky said, surprised by how ragged her own sounded, "I want you to thank Derrick properly for his kindness."

Derrick turned his eyes back to Becky. She imagined she could feel his gaze, like the feather-light touch of cold steel sliding along her leg, up her belly, lingering over her pert breasts and hard nipples, before finally resting on her face. Becky met that dark gaze, refusing to be intimidated by the things she was firmly pretending she didn't see there.

"I'll do whatever you wish, mistress," Liz's voice cut through the hypnotic power of those dark eyes. Becky could hear Liz's unashamed desire for Derrick.

"Suck him," Becky commanded hoarsely, "suck his cock, Lizzie."

Without visible haste, his dark eyes still locked on Becky's, Derrick unbuttoned his jeans and pulled out his shaft.

Almost holding her breath, Becky dropped her gaze downward and gave a slight sigh. The rational part of her mind emerged from hiding for a moment to note that Derrick's penis was almost shockingly normal, lacking the piercings, tattoos or monstrous proportions her imagination might conjure. Not, Becky insisted to herself that she had ever spent time imagining Derrick's penis. Like the rest of him it was lean, sturdy and neat. His public hair was almost completely shaven and his hard shaft rose between his legs proudly.

While Becky stared, Liz crawled forward to kneel in front of the dark man. Reaching out, Liz took hold of Derrick's jeans and pulled them slowly down to his ankles. Derrick watched her, then calmly pulled his shirt up over his head and tossed it aside, while stepping neatly out of his pants. He stood naked before the two coeds. Becky felt awed by his supreme confidence, even naked, and cursed herself for being so affected by him.

Becky watched as Liz ran her hands up Derrick's pale, muscular legs. Liz cupped his balls, light caressing them before leaning forward. Her dark curly hair fell around her face, blocking Becky's view of exactly what Liz was doing, but Derrick moaned softly, arching his back. His long-fingered hand tangled itself in Liz's hair, pulling her face closer.

Derrick's other hand reached out to Becky. His dark eyes, shining now with lust, bored into her. Without words, he seemed to invite her to come to him. Becky rose to her feet and walked to his side. Derrick slid his arm around her back, pulling her close to him. His free hand cupped her pert breast. His fingers teased her nipple. Their faces were so close that they almost touched, and he smiled at her. For a breathless moment, Becky though he might kiss her, but he turned and looked back down at Liz, kneeling before him. He pushed Liz's hair back so they both could see her face as the brunette coed continued to lick and suck Derrick's balls.

Becky looked down at Liz, and the brunette's bright blue eyes looked back up at her. Eyes locked on Becky's face, Liz licked her way slowly up Derrick's shaft. She swirled her tongue lovingly over the tip, then lowered her lips down over his dick. Derrick moaned. His hand tightened on Becky's breast, squeezing her nipple.

Becky shuddered and pressed her naked body heavily against Derrick's lean frame. She watched in amazement as Liz slid her mouth down Derrick's dick. The brunette slowly bobbed her head up and down, each time swallowing more of the hard shaft. Derrick began to rock his hips, pushing deeper into Liz's mouth. Becky watched in awe as Liz struggled to accommodate him. She saw Liz convulse as Derrick pushed against the back of her throat, making her gag. Derrick paused, waiting a moment for Liz to steady herself, then pushed harder. Becky's eyes widened as his entire shaft disappeared into Liz's eager mouth.

Derrick groaned. His fingers tightened in Liz's hair, holding her head still while he fucked her face with demanding thrusts. His other hand continued to massage Becky's breast, his fingers hot against her skin. Becky's hand caressed his firm chest. Her fingers tangled in his hair. He turned to look at her, their faces almost touching. His dark eyes burned with passion. Hungrily, Becky closed the distance between them, kissing him passionately. She moaned into his mouth.

"I want you," Becky gasped when she finally pulled away. "Fuck me. Right now."

Derrick smiled. With a deep sigh, he pulled his hard shaft from Liz's mouth. Gasping, her face and breasts slick with saliva and pre-cum, Liz fell back onto her heels. Becky saw Liz's hand between her legs and knew the brunette was vigorously rubbing her clit. Becky barely had time to think of it as Derrick turned to her. With steady unhesitating pressure, he pushed Becky backward. Becky's legs hit the bed suddenly, and she gave a panicked yelp as she fell back onto the bed.

Derrick loomed over Becky, the power of his gaze holding her as he climbed onto the bed. Slowly, inexorably, his powerful hands closed over her wrists, holding her arms in place. His weight pushed down on her, pinning her to the bed. Becky looked up into Derrick's eyes and gasped.

She had always known there was a kind of power behind his eyes, tightly controlled. She always carefully ignored it, denied it, pretended she didn't believe it. Now that power was unleashed. His dark eyes, raw, elemental and unforgiving, stripped away her pretensions, laid bare her fears and her desires. Becky saw the deepest, darkest recesses of her heart reflected in those terrible dark eyes. Becky was terrified.

"Let go," Derrick's voice was a whisper, perhaps more thought than heard. "Surrender. You want this."

"Oh god," Becky moaned.

Derrick lowered his face to hers. His lips covered hers. His tongue probed her mouth. The kiss was irresistible, unstoppable. Becky moaned as Derrick's kiss unleashed her desire. She arched under him, helpless in the face of his power. It was like a fire, consuming her. She wanted him. She wanted to be consumed, completely. Slowly, patiently, he kissed his way down her neck, his tongue leaving a trail of fire across her skin.