Chapter 1
Attractive brunette medical student Avon Priest lifted up from Celia Young's wet and still pulsating hairy pussy and wiped her dripping lips on a thoughtfully placed face towel.
With her panting subsiding, Celia stroked the arm of her older lover and said softly, "Now don't get mad but Evan (her brother) asked did I think you would agree to partner his new friend Donald to the medical school's annual ball. I said of course, tell him it's a date."
"What," exploded Avon, her face turning blue mottled with purple. "You bitch. You of all people know that I don't associate socially with the idiotic sub-species of humans."
Celia, a 4th year medical school student, smiled tolerantly. She and Celia were currently studying urology as part of their chosen deeper area of study during elective clinical rotation. She had expected a heated reaction and thus was ready to handle it.
Avon had thrown herself into medical studies as a late-entry student after her long-time boyfriend had joined the Army against her strong wishes and then, after prolong training, he'd been drafted for service in the Middle East. That resulted in Avon dumping him and deciding on a change of intended career.
"Don't worry darling. I told Evan to tell Donald that you were gay."
"And what did he think Donald-fucking-Duck will say to that?"
"Calm down, Avon. You'll be in good hands. Donald is a drop-out divinity student and is in his third-year of doing law."
"Ah, he's older than me?"
"Actually, he's also twenty-six. According to Evan, your date shares two of your passions; he's a Vegan and is dedicated to person fitness."
"Well meddling Celia, that's interesting but my answer is no way."
"Darling, my doctor mum has told me some interesting things about the advantages of gay women maintaining a better balance in life by occasionally having a bi-sexual experience. You have slightly experienced this. Remember how you felt 'uplifted', as you called it, after experiencing total abandonment in a drunken orgy with Evan after Merle and I left you two alone."
"Oh yeah, but remember that Evan does have some feminine characteristics."
"I don't recall you mentioning that when you were gushing details of your sordid night with him."
"Perhaps you are right about that euphoric one-off experience. Please relate in detail your mother's comments about adding a touch of bi-sex to our life which, no doubt, you now are on the eve of dipping a toe into the world of semen again."
"Oh darling, how graphically disgustingly skilled you are at describing some adult situations."
* * *
Avon steely-eyed the approaching failed divinity student, who was now up to his elbows in law studies and probably about to ditch that to attempt gaining a degree in, err, Dietary Science.
He looked yummy, the type mothers hoped their daughters would marry and the long nose indicated a... well yes. Pity about possible limited brain power.
"Avon?" he boggled outside the designated meeting place, Alice's Coffee House. "Omigod."
"Ah, I'm not you type, huh.? Then I'm off."
"No stay. My mother would wet her pants in unrestrained delight should I arrive home with you."
Avon flushed in pleasure. She was already close to liking this bonehead with a predicted big dick. The one negative - being he was male - was offset by two positives: he was a handsome Vegan and looked athletic.
Her highly intelligent mother, a bored housewife who enterprisingly was studying on-line for her next university degree during weekday mornings and usually entertained a 'gentleman' caller during most weekday afternoons, would have been horrified by her daughter's blunt greeting: "Yes, I'm Avon Priest. Tell me, do you have a long, fat penis?"
The poor guy half-turned as if preparing to bolt but halted, semi-paralysed, when the young woman practised at unsettling most males, cried authoritatively, "Answer me!"
"I-I believe so. I-I've never had c-complaints."
Avon trusted he meant from females and said sweetly, "I apologise for my bluntness, Donald but the answer was important to me. Please come in here for coffee and a snack, my treat."
'I-I was brought up conservatively and therefore are n-not used to such female b-b-b..."
"Bluntness?"
"Exactly. After you, Avon," he said, indicating the obvious entrance.
"Wow, Avon, you've got my blood flowing hot already but I understand you are n-not available carnally?"
"Whoever told you that is a liar," she replied, as she had a something in mind for this courteous guy.
Avon swung her hips as she entered the coffee house, giving trailing Donald who expectedly would be eyeing her butt, something to really focus on.
"What's your surname?"
"Why?" he said, indicating to Avon that he'd lost his stammer.
"If you intend rotating your half-erect penis against my groin after Friday night's ball, I'll need to know your surname when introducing you to my friends."
"You didn't speak precisely and say girlfriends."
"How perceptive of you, Donald Who?"
"It's Armstrong."
"What is?"
"My surname."
"Thank you. And I suppose you couldn't attract a ball partner yourself because every female you approached was already taken or was aware you were and ex-divinity student?"
He laughed and said, "How acutely perceptive of you Miss Priest. Fancy me going to the ball with a Priest."
Avon, trying to score higher-rating points, laughed gaily and patted his arm and pulled him against her side.
He purred, "Omigod, I can't believe I'm going to the ball with a Princess."
Avon dampened her panties in total shock.
Two evenings later they drove to the beach in Donald's ancient and battered Jeep CJ-5 Renegade to watch the sunset while eating hamburgers.
In disappearing twilight, Avon asked, "Aren't you going to feel me up? All we've done so far is to flick tongues."
"I-I understood you were gay."
"Did anyone tell you that I wasn't bi-sexual?"
"No."
"Well then ..."
Avon was kissed wetly.
"Donald, I'm no paper doll," she said instructionally, pulling one of his hands on to a breast, assuming he'd progress from there. But all she felt was slight finger twitching.
"Pull out a tit and lick it as if it's the best thing since sliced bread. I won't berate you if you slobber."
Minor success at last from Donald-no-fuck-Armstrong. But he'd keep. She'd have to rein back a bit otherwise he'd think of her as being too promiscuous as he'd said he came from a conservative family.
* * *
On the evening of the med school's annual ball for its teaching personal, senior admin folk and students with partners from wherever, Avon went to Donald's home by taxi because his mother Amelia wished to meet her dressed for the ball.
Avon's mother Peta had been astonished at her daughter's long preparation for the event. When Avon emerged in her emerald gown that had been kept under wraps, her hair raised in an adorable creation and with Avon unusually in full make-up, she gurled, "Omigod, you look like a top-shelf normal sexually-oriented young woman."
"Thanks mum," Avon giggled and giggled even louder when her father Michael, a conservative structural engineer gasped, "Holy fuck, is this our daughter?"
Avon's reception at Donald's home was even more momentous.
Donald, looking yummy in a tuxedo, raced to answer the front door bell and greeted his ball partner with a loud, "Holy shit," alarming his parents sitting straight-back on one of the lounge sofas.
Avon told him to make do with a just a hug to avoid marring her carefully done make-up.