"Gawdamn yur a hottie!" the preppie drunkenly slurs, staring down at me as I move away from the bar. I push past him, brushing his obvious hard-on with my elbow and leaving him staring down at my tight little ass as I walk back to Kristy, expertly balancing the two beers and two shots I've purchased. As I set the glasses on the table, Kristy leans forward and kisses me.
"Thanks, baby," she purrs. Catching the stumbling drunk approaching out of the corner of my eye, I lean into Kristy, crushing her full lips and sucking her tongue into my mouth. I usually don't like making a scene of our relationship in public, but I really don't want a loud-mouth drunk to ruin the mood. It was three years ago tonight that Kristy and I shared our first kiss, and the fact that we shared it with Angela doesn't overshadow the commitment we made later back in our dorm room. As I breathlessly pull away, I notice Biff Biceps stumbling toward the door. Two birds with one stone.
"Damn, Brandi! Dare I ask what brought that on?"
"I can only resist a blonde zombie with double-D's for so long," I offer for explanation. Kristy raises one blood-enrcrusted eyebrow so high that the axe embedded in her head actually tilts slightly. "One or two more of those might actually tide me over till we get back home." I hand Kristy a shot while raising my own. "To the happiest three years of my life."
"To the hottest little sexpot a lady could ever hope to fuck," replies Kristy without missing a beat. We down our shots, grab our beers, and begin to guzzle as several interested patrons start to chant. Two swallows and my stomach flops, almost gagging beer back into my glass. I never have been much of a beer drinker. Kristy slams her empty glass on the table with a knowing grin, and accepts the applause. "Still struggling with that gag reflex, huh?"
"Don't get a lot of practice taming it living with you," I shoot back lowering my half-full glass. Some foam dances enticingly along Kristy's upper lip, begging to be licked off. She notices something in my dark eyes and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, a knowing smile twinkling in her hazel eyes.
"You sure aren't holding back tonight, are you baby? Lucky some guys haven't dragged into the bathroom yet. Hell, I'd be hitting on you in that sexy little cheerleading outfit if I didn't know you."
"You've been hitting on me all night anyway, and no sober guy has even tried, because they all know you'd kick their ass if they did."
"It's not a sober guy that I'm worried about. It's a sex-starved, drunken crowd of guys."
"And that's why I'm going to pee in the parking lot rather than get anywhere close to bathrooms in this place." We're both mostly joking, but I have been putting on quite a show, and I actually love Kristy's protectiveness. We both know we're going home together, and thinking about that gets me even hotter. I feel the heat building between my legs, and my nipples are suddenly searching for some diamonds to cut. "Finish my beer and let's head home," I whisper in her ear, feeling my hot breath deflect back across my face. Three seconds later, four empty glasses stand on our table, and I'm following the second hottest ass in the bar toward to the door.
Kristy isn't big at all, except for her boobs, but at 5-9 she can hold her own in a crowd. While we both work out regularly (sometimes even in the gym), she just looks strong, especially next to me. Kristy likes to call me her little gymnast, because I'm about half a foot shorter, and definitely have the chest of a gymnast, though right now my nipples are certainly doing their best to fill out the Jayhawk on my cheerleading sweater. Watching Kristy walking in front of me, I marvel at how sexy she looks wearing a ripped and bloody Mizzou shirt and shredded purple sweat pants. Even as a zombie, she has my pussy quivering in anticipation. We've literally had sex at least once almost every single day for the past three years, and I still can't wait to get her home and in bed.
Exiting the bar, it's early enough that there's still a line waiting to get in. That means, if we're lucky, we can still catch a bus back to our apartment. And it would be lucky, because the cold, soon-to-be November air in Kansas guarantees my nipples are going to be aching by the time we get home. Kristy puts her arm across my shoulder and pulls me against her as several guys in line whistle and invite us to join them in the bar we just left. My hand naturally falls across her back to her side, and my fingers comfortably slide inside the waistband of her tattered sweats, her silk panties a cool contrast against her hot skin.
A low moan crawls through her lips at my touch, and her fingers gently brush across my nipple, then back again to my arm. My own fingers tug her panties tight against her crotch in response. We both giggle, catching each other's eyes, then stop and kiss again, daring the world to make a comment. Two people in love deserve to share each other in private or in public, and no matter what the future holds for us, we've both known for a long time that we definitely love each other.
A couple more catcalls from the not-quite-good-enuf line bring us back to the present, and we continue the short walk to one of the many bus stops in the area. One very nice thing about a college town is that the people in charge would much prefer drunken students on busses to drunken students in speeding cars. We are just approaching the corner when a familiar pee-green bus pulls up. "Damn!" I mutter. "I've still got to piss." I'm suddenly thinking of my bulging bladder, the hard bus seats, and all the potholes between here and our apartment.
"Hold it in, baby, and I'll suck every last drop out of you when we get home," Kristy challenges in a husky whisper just as the door slides open. I step onto the bus as Kristy's hand flattens my sweater around my breast, perfectly outlining my poking nipple and barbell right in front of the old bus driver. His eye's never leave my tits as I walk past without even thinking to show my bus pass. Kristy holds her pass toward the driver, a broad smile looking eerily out of place on her bloody and scarred face. "Happy Halloween," she murmurs, heading back to our favorite seat in the rear.
Despite being for the most part monogomous in our relationship, we have certainly racked up quite a number sexcapades over three years. In fact, we've each cum at least twice in rear seat of this very bus. While a nearly empty bus ride at night might sound like the perfect platform for illicit sex, the busses are actually fairly well lit inside, and the driver tonight is spending more time looking at his overhead mirror than through his windshield. It's really easier and definitely sexier to get finger-fucked to orgasm at noon on a crowded bus headed across campus. Add my bulging bladder to the equation, and Kristy is going to have to be very much hands-off for the 10-block ride to our apartment.
As we gigglingly climb the three flights of stairs to our apartment, I have all but convinced myself that I can't possibly keep from peeing for another second. As I'm searching in my bag for keys, Kristy roughly thrusts her hand under my skirt, grabs my crotch, and commands, "Don't you dare waste a drop of that precious piss. I told you I'd suck you dry, and I'm going to."
"Kristy, you're a mess and I've GOT TO PEE!" I practically shout to the neighborhood.
"And you're gonna hold every drop inside while I wash off this makeup. You even so much as dribble and I'm going to spank your ass raw." She fixes me with a glare that guarantees she will follow through on her promises, and that I'll enjoy it either way. Suddenly I'm not worried about peeing nearly so much as about how I'm going to just dribble enough to earn my spanking without peeing it all out and missing the chance to have Kristy's hot mouth latched onto my cunny.
