A young woman sat on the bank of a stream, almost tented by a weeping willow tree, her breasts pressed to her knees, arms around her legs. She wore an over-sized, white tee shirt, baggy khaki shorts and sneakers. She had long, very full, light brown hair streaked blonde by the sun and always pulled into a ponytail, large blue eyes, a cute button nose and very kissable lips that looked bee-stung.
If you asked people to describe Amy, they would comment on every beautiful thing above her neck because that's generally all they saw, other than her five foot, six inch height.
What they didn't see was a fantastic body; small waist, apple-sized breasts with thick nipples, a bottom ‘that could stop traffic'…nicely rounded, a little plump with a deep cleft that separated her cheeks and endless, shapely legs.
There was one problem. As she sat there that afternoon by the river, Amy was very depressed, tears spilling down her face, watching them as they hit her legs. She didn't even try to stop her crying, just let it all out.
In a few days, life would change. She was headed off to WVU, the recipient of a scholarship and acceptance into the Honors Program and Jeff was going too, having accomplished the same thing. They had finished one/two in their graduating class. Just one difference…Jeff was ecstatic and Amy was depressed. He called her every night gushing with enthusiasm. He would ask her what was bothering her and she just replied, ‘nothing'.
Jeff and Amy were buddies; hard, fast and true buddies ever since fourth grade. They were part of the same gang…five boys and Amy. Actually, she became a full-fledged member freshman year in high school.
Amy thought about the day it happened and her subsequent status change. Walking down the hall on her way to English class, she felt hands grab her buttocks and she screamed. Jeff was walking a few steps behind and he grabbed the guy and threw him against the hall lockers. A crowd quickly gathered. Jeff yelled at him, ‘Ya wanna' a thrill, put your hands on your little johnson and keep ‘em there, ya little shit!'
After school that day, Jeff asked her to join them at the luncheonette, their "clubhouse". It was cokes and fries smothered in cheese, all around. Two days later, she arrived at school in painter's pants, shirt and work boots…the official uniform. She was ‘in' and everybody knew it, including her mother who commented to Amy's father, ‘Well, it could be worse…a tongue stud, belly button piercing. It's easy to change clothes'. The uniform rarely changed. As she developed more womanly curves, the clothes just got baggier.
In ninth grade, it was "bullshit this and bullshit that'. In tenth grade, the words grew bolder; it was "fuck this and fuck that'. She gave as good as she got. Big Bear, sweet as could be, but really ‘dumb as wood', would yell at her, ‘How they hangin', Amy' and she would grab her crotch, push her pelvis forward and yell back, ‘OK, man'. Jeff would just smile and shake his head.
Amy remembered a time at the clubhouse when Bear reached across her, grazing a breast and whispered to Jeff, ‘She's got tits'. Jeff had a startled look on his face and replied, ‘You're kidding!'. It was several seconds after everybody started laughing that Big Bear caught up. But God, Amy thought, he was so lovable. He was also capable of tearing apart anybody that looked at Amy in the wrong way!
By eleventh grade, Jeff was a man-child, over six feet tall, broad chest and shoulders, muscular, dark blonde wavy hair falling in his eyes…and girls following him! On Friday nights, after the basketball game, Amy would see him walking off with a girl, heading into the woods behind the school. For Amy, it was walking home alone, stripping off her clothes, lying in bed, one hand cupping a breast, the other working between her silky thighs and always thinking of what they were doing, until sleep came and with it, tortured dreams.
Her problem? It would only get worse.
They'll be a horde of freshman girls and maybe, even sophomores and juniors vying for his attention. Oh, Shit!
She also thought their playful banter would end, each one trying to best the other.
* * * * * * * * * * *
At the end of August, they were off to college at Morgantown. The first week was freshman orientation at the downtown campus. They felt like "kings of the hill", a horde of freshmen, upperclassmen serving as guides and there were also college advisors. Jeff told Amy that it felt like summer camp, organized activities during the day and roaring parties through the night.
Most first year Honors Program students were assigned housing at Dadisman Hall, a four-story brick fortress with community bathrooms, lounge, study rooms and recreation areas. They were amazed when Jeff was placed in Room 259 and Amy in 255. They grew up as next-door neighbors and now were living two rooms apart. Somebody in Housing must have really screwed up.
"Hey, Amy, this 9 x 16 looks like a bowling alley! If I can get my neighbor to switch rooms with you, we could bust through the wall and have a really great fucking room."
"Uh, Jeff, on that subject, don't you think you'd like some privacy?"
"The only girl coming in this room is you."
Coming, yeah, for studying!
"Well, there are other things that require privacy, ya know, like scratching, squeezing, stroking, etc.."
"I thought about that. We put our beds on opposite sides of the room and turn the lights out."
"Jeff, now I know for sure why you're in the Honors Program. That's brilliant! Why don't you talk to the RA about switching my room?"
The "party" ended on Sunday night. Over the next few weeks, they made new friends, always in groups, but Amy started to feel like a tag-along. Jeff was like attracting bees to honey. Amy was attracting four-eyed nerds only interested in her brains, although one guy confessed to her that he had a foot fetish.
Now we're getting somewhere…Oh, fuck!
They did spend many hours studying together, either in her room or his. They were relaxed, really comfortable with each other, no homesickness.
In November, Amy attended a meeting held to introduce freshman to upperclassmen and professors in the English department and it was there that she met Lynn. She was a senior; she was also very beautiful.
Lynn was about Amy's height, had large breasts that fought with her sweater and fantastic looking legs coming out of a short skirt. Her hair was shoulder length, ash blonde, but it was her eyes and mouth that kept Amy from looking away.
They sat together and Lynn kept up a whispered dialogue explaining whom everyone was, which profs to take and which to avoid. She also pointed out the department flirt who tried to get into every girl's pants. Amy had her hand over her mouth to cover giggles and laughter.
She spotted Jeff sitting several rows away and he winked at her and she winked back. Lynn asked Amy if he was her boyfriend and Amy told her about their "buddy" relationship. Lynn thought she said ‘budding' and Amy laughed so loudly that heads turned to them.
As they left the building, Lynn asked Amy up to her apartment for a drink. She had several books that she thought might interest her. Amy agreed to join her.
Lynn's apartment was very nicely furnished; she obviously came from money. There was a large leather sofa in a soft green color with printed fabric pillows covering most of it, two upholstered side chairs surrounding a wood and iron table and all sorts of plants placed below three large windows. A computer workstation and desk sat in a corner.
She took two beers from the fridge, put them on the table and walked to her desk where she picked up several books. Amy couldn't take her eyes off Lynn.
They started drinking and Lynn opened one of the books. It was leather bound and the subject was 19th Century erotica. She thumbed through it, stopping at beautifully engraved prints. Amy was blushing and she wondered if Lynn noticed. She had seen erotic pictures before but nothing that compared to these. They depicted bestiality, exaggerated sex organs, and men or women copulating with animals.
Lynn placed her hand on Amy's shoulder and leaned forward to pick up another book. When she moved back, she pressed her lips lightly to Amy's mouth. Amy experienced a mixture of arousal and shock. She was starring at Lynn but the woman's eyes were closed and she deepened the kiss, her tongue gliding over Amy's lips.
"I've been wanting to kiss you all night, Amy. Does it feel good?"
Amy just continued to stare at her. Lynn kissed her again, this time her tongue finding Amy's and they danced together. Arousal replaced shock. Amy kept thinking about this moment, nothing else.
The kiss broke and Lynn hugged Amy to her. Amy didn't want answers now. Lynn's fingers were unbuttoning Amy's blouse and then she felt the woman's hands on her naked breasts. "You don't even need a bra, do you?" Her nipples moved in Lynn's palms. She felt confused, drifting between shame and excitement.
"Amy, let's move to the other room. It's more comfortable."
Amy couldn't speak. She wasn't sure she could stand. Lynn took her hands and lifted her from the sofa. She was light-headed, feeling as if she had to pump to the surface after a deep dive to suck air.
They sat on the side of the bed and Lynn removed Amy's blouse.
The bedroom was very ordinary: a large bed, a night table, a dresser and an armoire, the exception being the walls. They were covered with erotic and pornographic pictures, not prints, from floor to ceiling. Amy recognized a few of the women. They were students! It was chilling and exciting at the same time.
When she refocused on Lynn, she was removing the last of Amy's clothing…her panties.
As Lynn pulled Amy off the bed, she tugged off her sweater and asked Amy to help with her bra. Amy couldn't stop her hands from shaking but she finally got it unhooked. Lynn took Amy's hands and brought them to her chest, each hand encircling a large breast. Amy's swollen nipples pressed into Lynn's back. Lynn's skirt dropped to the floor. Amy couldn't stop shaking.
"Amy, if I ran my fingers through your lips and touched your little clit, you'd come all over them, wouldn't you?"
The younger woman couldn't find words and even if she had, she wouldn't have answered.
They lay back on the bed and Lynn caressed her, all over her body and encouraged Amy to follow her lead. Lynn suckled at Amy's breasts, pinched her nipples between her lips and kissed her way down to her thighs. She pushed Amy's legs up until her knees almost touched her chest.
"Oh, God, your little clit isn't so little, is it Amy?"
Amy was on fire…shaking, tingling, losing her mind. Lynn kissed her lips, drove her tongue deep into Amy's pussy and then ran it across her clit, sucking and teasing, following the path from cunt to button, again and again. Amy was sobbing and she screamed as wild tremors signaled the start of her ‘little death'.
As she recovered, she realized that Lynn's arms were around her, holding her tightly.
She whispered, "It's getting late. I'll drive you back to the dorm."
On the way, Lynn told Amy about a meeting of the BiGLM, the Lesbian Mountaineers, to be held tomorrow afternoon at the LAIR. She told Amy she would love her friends. Amy was far from being naïve, but the word ‘lesbian' rattled her.
They kissed goodnight and Amy walked into her dorm, totally ignoring people she passed, even those who spoke to her. She finally reached her room, tore off her clothes, collapsed on the bed and cried.
When she opened her eyes, it was morning. Amy skipped her 8:00 AM class, just sat at her desk, starring out the window, searching for answers to too many questions. Then it dawned on her; there weren't any questions. Her tears last night were about Jeff. It should have been him in bed with her.
At 4:00 PM, Amy walked into the Rec building. There were at least forty women working their way into the meeting room. Amy thought several of them fit the description of "butch", but most looked like any other woman on campus, their sexuality known only to themselves and their friends.
Lynn was talking with another girl but when she saw Amy, she excused herself and approached her with that infectious smile on her face. She put her arm around Amy.
