Sally Wu had her head out the backseat window like a dog, mouth gaping, hair flapping in the wind, eyes wide and eager. And her fingers were deep in her snatch. She had one knee on the seat, the other leg down on the floor, her ass up and waving in the window. When Barbara Jones stopped the car at the lights, a bloke just to the side did a double-take, looking up Sally's miniscule, black, leather skirt, at her soaked thighs and her quickly pumping fingers.
Sally had been masturbating since the morning, and it was dark out now. Oh, yes, she'd taken some breaks earlier in the day. But since about noon, she'd worked herself up so much that not a minute passed without her finger swirling in her pussy. Earlier in the day, she even needed to fantasise about her Baba abusing her staff. Now, after fourteen hours of masturbating, of being physically and mentally unable to cum, she didn't need fantasies. Just seeing that girl out the car window, jogging in yoga pants, or that man in a singlet, with big muscly arms, or that office lady dropping her purse and bending over to get it -- Sally pressed her her chin down against the windowsill, her eyes rolling back as she finger-fucked herself.
Her outfit used to have a pair of lace panties, but by midday they'd gotten too soaked. She had no panties or bra on at all. Her nipples poked through her sheer, black shirt. Her shirt was a tiny thing, like a T-shirt shrunken in the wash. Its arms barely covered her shoulders, and it stopped just three-quarters down her tits.
Barbara stopped the car in the university car park and opened the door for Sally. It was late so there were only a few students around, but each and everyone turned and gawked at the barely dressed Asian bimbo.
"Hands behind your back, Dummy," said Barbara. "You wouldn't want your whole school thinking you were a needy, little slut who can't keep her hands from her cunt."
"No," she mewled. "Of course..." Hands behind her back, tits pushed forward, Sally stood close to Baba, so close she just started grinding on Baba's leg.
Barbara slapped Sally's shoulder. "Naughty bimbo. Remember why we're here. You do remember, don't you?"
"Um... Um... We're here to..."
"Here to bee..."
"Bee... Betray my best friends!" Sally remembered! Surely that deserved a little treat.
Sally yanked Sally's wrist away from her cunt. "Behave. You don't want your friend's knowing something's amiss."
Sally's friends were her partners-in-crime-fighting. Alex was the muscle, a twenty-year-old multi-blackbelt who could topple a guy twice her size. Eugenie was the hacker, a nineteen-year-old e-girl t-girl. There was also Lachlan, but he was out of the city at the moment. The gang were loyal to the end. They'd been tied up, kidnapped, threatened, but each of them would sooner sleep with the fishes than betray each other.
"And, and, when I betray them, can, can, can, can I cum!?"
"You let Baba worry about when you cum." Barbara took off her black, ankle length overcoat and helped Sally into it. "On a night like this, you're going to catch your death dressed like such a slut -- and maybe even tip off your friends."
Sally snuggled into the jacket which smelt like a Baba. Barbara was much taller than Sally, so the hem dragged against the dirty, grassy, puddled ground as Barbara led Sally to the female dorms. Barabara was dressed in flared, pale-brown trousers, a vanilla blouse, and a brownish red hair scarf with large sunglasses on. Just something to hide that the controversial billionaire Barbara Jones was paying the university a visit.
With Sally's keycard (Barbara had kindly taken charge of all Sally's valuables and devices), they went to the dorm's third-floor and knocked on Alex and Eugenie's door. There was a grunt inside and a heavy dumbbell thunking to the floor. Alex swung open the door, surly and sweaty from her workout, hoping whoever had knocked would give her an excuse to punch their lights out. SHe had on just a pair of panties and a singlet so sweaty you could see straight through to her flat-chested nipples.
"Yeah!? she barked. "What d'you -- Sally!?"
There was something wrong about Sally's face, her wide-pupils, heavy breaths, and why was she wearing an overcoat? She only ever -- ever -- wore that stupid sweater and skirt. And who was this black woman with her, who looked so familiar.
"Barbara Jones!" Alex would have clocked her in the face, but Sally and Eugenie had warned her about that. "Sally, what the fuck are you doing with..."
Barbara had taken a tube of lipstick from her handbag, and had twisted it. The base of the tube pulsed, strobed, and flashed multi-coloured lights into Alex's eyes.
