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Thread: The Right Choice - Part 2

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    Hostboard Member Catharsis's Avatar
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    The Right Choice - Part 2

    The Right Choice - Part 2

    Freedom is truly a wonderful thing. Like most things, you really appreciate it right when you first experience it.

    Going off to college was just such an occasion for me. No longer did I have my parents or my sister hovering over me and forcing me to walk the path they insisted I take. Only when I was on my own did I notice my habit of mentally looking over my shoulder to see what my family thought about what I was doing. It faded away within a month.

    My mother had complained and pleaded with me when I showed her the acceptance letter, but I stood firm. Caroline thought I was dumb for picking a "lesser" school. My dad wished me well and was super helpful in moving me in. They all acted worried about me, but needn't have.

    I took to dorm life like a champ. The gang on the first floor of Agnes Hall were super nice, but I found they often needed my help. For instance, I heard shrieking one morning and raced out of my room to see what it was. A big black rat snake had crawled in through the door at the end of the hall someone had propped open to let a breeze run through the building. Everybody was howling and carrying on, backing away from the thing in a huddled mass.

    I grabbed a mop from the bathroom and shoved it in the thing's face. It reared back and struck at the mop twice, then darted under it right at me. I kicked its head with my shoe, making an audible impact, and started pushing its body down the hall with the mop. It retreated out the door and I walked back to return my weapon. Everyone seemed astonished that I was still calm.

    "It's not poisonous. Probably smelled a mouse or something," I told them.

    "But it still could have bit you!"

    "Yeah? So?" They didn't seem to understand. I was just doing what needed to be done. They insisted I had been brave. That's probably why I got roped into being the one that crawled through the second story window.

    Let me back up. We'd had a party one Friday night, and Melissa, a girl from upstairs, took offense at somebody. She called the campus police, claiming we had underage drinking going on. Totally killed the fun. She would have gotten away with it had she not laughed about it to one of her hallmates, who told Regina, whose room we'd been in. She got a bunch of us together and everybody started throwing out ideas for revenge. They settled on filling her pillow with whipped cream from a can. Problem was, how to get into her room?

    "She always leaves her window cracked," I offered. Me and my big mouth.

    That's how I found myself on tiptoes on a borrowed stepladder trying to lift myself in through a half-open window. I scraped my leg on the brickwork and found nothing to grab onto with my hands to pull myself in. As soon as I managed to wiggle most of my body in, the doorknob to her room rattled. Melissa had returned much earlier than expected. I reversed out the window but the ladder wasn't there. The rest of the gang was following the plan to the letter. They were returning the ladder to the utility closet before anyone saw them or saw it missing, assuming that I would simply walk out Melissa's door once I'd done the deed.

    I fell nearly two stories and hit the ground hard. I rolled to my feet immediately and made my getaway past the horrified faces of our lookouts, who'd seen the whole thing. They'd sworn I'd broken my back. My tailbone hurt for days afterwards, but I was okay. I was happy that they treated me with so much respect.

    Like the time when Monique lost her shit and started yelling at Naomi. I had my door open at the time and saw the whole thing get ugly. Naomi went racing into her room across the hall with Monique thudding right behind her. I peered out and heard Monique demand that Naomi return something she supposedly stole. I had never seen Monique angry like that before, let alone bullying a meek little girl like Naomi. I was out of my room and halfway to them when Monique took a swing.

    I don't know if she hit Naomi or not. I just grabbed both of Monique's arms in mine and locked them behind her back. Monique kept hollering and moments later the resident advisor ran in. I let Monique go and then everybody was shouting.

    When the campus police showed up, Naomi spun a story that I had barged in to attack her, too. To my relief, pretty much the entire hall vouched for me. The resident advisor had only seen me try to calm things down, so I didn't get written up for being involved in a violent incident. Turns out, it was all a huge mess. The cops found pilfered items that matched stolen goods reports on campus in Naomi's room, but nothing of Monique's. The girl across the hall from Monique confessed, and both her and Naomi ended up in student court.

    That evening, Monique came by my room.

    "Thanks for sticking up for me with the cops. You could've gotten me in a lot of trouble if you'd wanted to."

    "Why would I do that? You're a good person. I didn't want to see you get a mark on your record."

    Monique thanked me again, and massaged her shoulder. "You know, you're built like an ox. Do you wrestle?"

    "Um, no."

    Only later did I notice that my first thought was whether Monique had been making me an offer. I shoved that out of my mind. I was blossoming into something new, becoming a little more outgoing and sociable and putting my moody, sullen high schooler attitude behind. Besides, being a good friend is what led to Monique inviting me to an off-campus party that weekend -- one that would change my life forever.

    **********

    The problem for me was I didn't have much choice of what to wear. I typically wear t-shirts and jeans: comfortable clothes that are easy to wash. I'd almost forgot about the outfit my mother had picked out for me "in case someone special wants to take you to a fancy dinner." I'd rolled my eyes at my mom back then, but the shiny red sleeveless blouse and knee-length black pencil skirt fit the bill perfectly for the evening. I even added a necklace and some simple bracelets. Barely recognized myself in the mirror.

    "Oh, don't you clean up real nice!" commented Monique, who had on a halter-topped dress that ended halfway up her thighs and exposed most of her back.

    "Monique, I could never wear something like what you've got on."

    "Don't sell yourself short, girl. You've got some looks on you. You just need to work them." She stuck her head out the door and bellowed down the hall. "Jasmine, you ready yet?"

    "I've BEEN ready. Waitin' on YOU!"

    Like at many universities, there were numerous houses just off campus that people bought as investments and rented out to students. One such cluster of them at my school was called The Hill. They ran up a slope that overlooked the flat plain the college had been built on. Each one could easily house four or five students, provided they weren't freshmen like I was who had to spend their first year in the dorms.

    The group I was with walked the six blocks to The Hill right around dusk and found a blue two-story house with lights blazing and music blaring. Inside, we split up. Monique and another girl met a friend of theirs right near the door and Jasmine headed off to look for someone else. I picked up a cup of soda and some pretzels and wandered around. Parties were never really my thing, and I felt more than a little awkward doing scarcely more than making eye contact with various strangers.

    I saw through the kitchen window that a bunch of people were out in the back yard, and was curious what they were up to. A guy stopped me at the door. "ID?" he asked, after looking at my hand.

    "Um."

    "21 and over only in the back."

    "Oh, OK. Sorry." I turned around.

    My heart, and the rest of me, stopped.

    If anyone had asked me up to that moment what I thought about love at first sight, I'd have told them it was a load of bullshit, just some ordinary experience that people blew all out of proportion to make their lives feel more important. Oh, how wrong I was.

    She was dressed in a stylish pink blouse and a long white skirt, pearl necklace and earrings and white pumps. Her platinum blonde hair parted in two waves on either side of her forehead and hung straight down in back to just below her shoulders. Eyes of purest blue gleamed above her porcelain smile. Her flawless skin caught the light as she glided so gracefully toward the drink table. She scanned the room, meeting my gaze for a long, drawn-out second, and then continued on her way.

    Some force beyond those known to Physics set me in motion. We arrived at the table at the same time. She paused, seeing me. Her eyes quickly looked me over. She was about two inches shorter than me. She smelled heavenly.

    "You first," I offered.

    "Thanks."

    I looked down and felt stupid. My cup was still half full. I reached for some more pretzels, then thought better of it. "My name's Allison. Allison Parker." I held out my hand.

    "Hannah Johansson," she replied. Hannah put her drink in her left hand and went to shake mine.

    I'd extended my left hand, drink still glued in my other one. "Sorry," I said, as we each tried rotating our hands to clasp them together. She laughed. Oh goodness, that laugh. Bubbly, innocent joy untarnished by any cynicism.

    "That's OK. I'm actually left handed, too. Just use my right out of habit. Do you live here in The Hill?"

    "No, I'm here with some friends of mine. You?"

    "I live just up the street." A sophomore, then, at the least.

    "How do you like it?"

    "Quieter than campus."

    "Except when the neighbors throw a party."

    "Yeah, exactly. My parents actually own the house I'm in."

    "You're from this area?"

    "No, but my parents are in real estate. They did some deal with somebody. I don't know. I just get to live there. So, tell me about yourself."

    I did. As we talked, we went out front and leaned against the bannister, then sat on the porch. The speakers inside were thumping out some top 40 pop band's hit whose chorus involved a lot of "ohhh ohhh ohhhs". I noticed Hannah humming it absent-mindedly.

    "You like this song?"

    "Oh, not really. I'm more into, well, it's a kind of slow, trippy kind of genre."

    I offered the names of three artists I thought she might be talking about. She looked at me in shock.

    "You did NOT just list my favorite bands... and in order!"

    "I have all of the albums by the first one on my phone," I admitted.

    "And their debut EP?"/"And their debug EP." we said simultaneously. She laughed again. I smiled, filled with conviction that the universe was truly a glorious place, just because it had Hannah in it.

    Monique showed up, checking on me. I introduced Hannah and the two talked briefly about the friends Monique knew on The Hill. The music stopped abruptly, and then the booming bass notes of the latest hip hop thundered through the house. Jasmine appeared in the doorway. "Monique, get your ass in here."

    "I gotta go," she said, and waddled in through the front door, shaking her prodigious rear end to the beat.

    I pointed at the house and tried to say something, but the volume surged right then and my words were drowned out. Hannah shook her head and motioned for me to follow her. She sidled along the path to the street, swaying exaggeratedly with the rhythm. Her skirt twirled at her ankles. Her slim body curved and swung beneath her loose-fitting clothes. Damn, I could watch that all day.

    Away from the deafening music, Hannah and I wandered the sidewalks of campus and continued cataloging our shared interests. Food, books, movies... we had identical tastes. Even our families were similar. Hannah had a sister two and a half years older than her, matching Caroline's age, and a brother one year older than that. One was in Finance, the other studying Law.

    On the wide steps in front of the main administration building, she told me that although she was aiming for business school, her true calling was to be a princess.

    "How so?" I indulged her.

    "Because a long time ago, I said I wanted to be one, and my mother said it was never going to happen. But no matter how much my parents try to organize my life or get me to follow my older sister's example, I'm not going to give that dream up."

    "A wonderful dream it is."

    "Yes. It's just missing one thing."

    "Oh?"

    She cast me a happy little grin. "C'mon, let's head across the Green. If we stay here too long, the campus police will think we're up to something."

    We walked and talked, finally resting ourselves on benches outside the dining hall near my building. The night air was warm and thin gossamer clouds drifted upward toward the moon. Finally, at a pause in the conversation neither of us wanted to end, I yawned.

    "Sorry," I said as she yawned in echo.

    "Oh gosh, it's 2am," she said, looking at her phone.

    "Wow." We both paused, the first lull between us in hours. "You OK to get back?"

    "Yeah, I'll be fine."

    "It was really nice talking with you, Hannah."

    "Really nice meeting you, Allison."

    "Allie."

    "Allie." She blushed. "See ya."

    I didn't realize that I hadn't gotten her phone number or address until I closed the door to my room.

    I lay in bed, awake, until 4. My heart beat strong in my chest.

    **********

    I stumbled out of bed the next morning at 9:30, eyes blinking against the glare of the sun through my window. I shut the shade and went down the hall to shower. On my way back, I saw someone talking to Monique down at the entrance to the common room. I got to my door before recognizing who it was. Monique pointed at me and waved. Hannah, standing next to her in a gauzy white blouse and dark crimson calf-length pleated skirt, turned toward me, gave me a wide smile, and waved. I, standing in blue pajama shorts, a white t-shirt from my high school, with a towel around my neck and toothbrush in my hand, felt embarrassed. Hannah took a few steps in my direction, then paused.

    "I... can come back later... when..."

    "No, no. It's fine. Come on in." I ushered her in and closed the door behind me out of habit. Hannah took in the room. Saturday was laundry day, so I had a big pile of clothes overflowing the basket. A half-eaten bag of potato chips sat open on my desk. If she noticed, or cared, she didn't show it when she turned and faced me with a pleasant grin. She spun her purse off her shoulder and held it in front of her by its thin strap with both hands.

    "Thanks for stopping by, Hannah. I forgot to get your contact information."

    "Oh, that's true. I... hope you don't mind me showing up unannounced."

    "Not at all. Sheesh. I'm just surprised, that's all. Is there anything I can do for you?"

    "Um, well..." The toe of one of her shoes dug into the rug, and the heel of the foot it was attached to began rocking side to side. "Have you had breakfast?"

    "No. Have you?" Her eyes had been looking elsewhere, but they finally looked right into mine.

    "Yes, but, I could still take you out to get something. I wouldn't mind just sitting, and chatting... while you... What do you say?"

    I paid no attention to her stammering lips. They were lovely, telling me what she wanted, and what she thought I might want. I dove instead into those deep, blue pools below her immaculate eyebrows. It was then that I knew what answer to give her. My fingers came to rest on her waist just above her hips. My head leaned forward slowly, but purposefully.

    I kissed her, softly and tenderly. It didn't last long, but it wasn't short, either. I tugged her lips gently with mine and tasted her sweetness. Then I retreated to where I could see her entire face. Her eyes remained closed, as if focused on the sensations on her mouth. She exhaled and opened her eyes half way.

    "That was... better than I imagined," Hannah said, her soft voice barely above a whisper.

    "I can do it again."

    Her face shone happily. "Yes, please. Oh yes, please."

    My palms slid up her sides and took a firm hold. Hannah's arms circled behind my neck. Her purse hit the floor with a jangle of keys. She kicked it out of the way as our lips met again. We kissed with greater force. I enveloped her ardently, pressing her body into mine. She responded, tightening her embrace. We devoured each other's mouths, satisfying a hunger neither of us could hide any longer. She relaxed, leaning backwards, and I pursued, maintaining our intimate contact and placing a strong hand on her back to keep her from falling. Her left leg slithered up the back of my right leg. My hand ran up it from knee to upper thigh, bunching the material of her skirt as it went. She moaned and drew upright.

    We danced like drunks, kissing endlessly, spinning around each other, careening about the room with hands pulling at clothing, palms groping along our bodies and fingers plowing through each other's hair. Hannah's heel slipped and she swerved out of my arms and landed against the closet door. I was on her in a second, flattening myself against her, ravishing her entire body, not wanting any leave any part of her lacking from touch or pleasure. Her hands stroked the small of my back, then slid under the waistband of my shorts. Fingernails clawed lustfully on the top of my buttocks. I kissed her neck, followed by the hollow at the base of it, and continued down the open front of her blouse toward her cleavage. She pulled my shirt up in the back.

    Hannah purred and pushed me off her bosom. Her fingers dribbled off my shoulders, casting a tickling rain down my breasts, teasing my fully aroused nipples. Suddenly she disengaged, slamming her palms and back into the door behind her, panting hard with her mouth wide open. Her face was flush, her hair mussed and wild. A look burned in her eyes of pure, unadulterated desire. No sight in my entire life had ever made my so horny.

    "It's too hot in here for these clothes," Hannah said.

    I went for the buttons on her blouse. She kissed my face passionately, helped me finish, then dragged my shirt off my head. Taking both of my naked tits in her hands, she distracted me completely from my attempts to remove her white lace bra. I unzipped her skirt. It landed in a puddle at her feet. Hannah steadied herself on my shoulder and kicked her heels off while I made short work of her bra clasp. She made to back away so she could take it off, but I prevented her, hugging her tightly. She looked at me, confused. My fingers dug in just below her rear end and lifted. She chirped and wrapped her legs around my waist.

    With her still in my arms, I carried her to the bed and began toppling over. Hannah yelped, but I caught her descent and lay her gently upon the covers. After pulling her bra off her arms and flinging it carelessly aside, I joined her on the mattress. Her body undulated against mine as I lay atop her. I devoured her lips, and penetrated her mouth forcefully with my tongue. She moaned in response. Her hands clutched fervently, finding plenty of naked skin to grasp and clench. I pushed with my hands, lifting my torso up an inch or so, and dragged my breasts up over top of hers and back down gradually. She exhaled sharply. Her face broke out in a bright smile. Her hands tugged at the waistband of my panties, urging me to continue. My boobs slid against hers several more times until my nipples got so stimulated I had to stop. I collapsed atop her. She kept yanking at my underwear. I buried my head in the sheets next to her head. Feeling her legs part, I began working my hips in time with the waves her body was making beneath me.

    Our panty-covered mounds met, grinding roughly. Slowly at first, savoring the erotic sensations, we moved in unison. My thrusts became more urgent and our pace accelerated. Hannah was breathing hard. Her nails were like claws on my ass, increasing the force of each impact between our moistening pussies. I wanted so desperately to pour back into her all of the overwhelming pleasure I was feeling, to unite our bodies in one ecstatic tremor of passion. My brain knew that it wasn't going to happen, not in the current position we were in, but my body just didn't want to stop the wonderful feeling of uniting itself with this gorgeous Scandinavian beauty whose groans of arousal were growing louder every second. I turned my head and kissed quickly up her neck until I reached her ear. I nibbled the lobe firmly, moaning in frustration.

    Hannah squealed in utter delight. She rolled us onto our sides. Her face was giddy with rapture. She slid her panties down her legs. I sat up to pull them off, and made quick work of my own. Returning to her back, she draped one foot on my shoulder. Her tongue poked teasingly from one corner of her mouth. I took her leg in my hands, and kissed her foot. She sighed. Beginning with the toes, I kissed and licked and sucked my way along her foot, up her ankle, and down her raised leg to a point just shy of her hips. The smell of her sex was pungent. My fingers traced along her inner thigh, eager to satisfy the aching desire found within.

    Hannah growled. "Come here you... You bandit, you rogue,... you beast!"

    I lay down to one side of her. Our tongues met. Our tits mashed together. Her hand was between my legs and mine deep in hers. She penetrated me, first just the tip of one finger, then the entire digit. Her cunt was thoroughly wet and unbelievably hot.

    "Unh, yes. I'm so ready," she moaned.

    "So am I."

    "Fuck me, Allie."

    "Nnnhhhh."

    "Fuck me!"

    Less than a minute of vigorous fingering later, we both broke out in blissful orgasmic release. I felt a warm sensation ripple through my body, tingling every nerve ending. Hannah let out a short exultant shout and nestled herself against me. It gave me such a thrill to hear that. I wrapped her up in an all-encompassing embrace.

    When our rapid panting had subsided somewhat, Hannah remarked, "And you say you've never had a girlfriend before?"

    "I'm just doing what I think will get the best reaction out of you."

    "Oh," she purred, "You were perfect."

    We lay there, caressing each other and cooling off in each other's arms for a few minutes in silence. I couldn't stop staring at Hannah. I could hardly believe that this was happening, that it all wasn't some dream. She stroked my cheek gently. No dream was this real...

    "You know... I have to say," Hannah confessed, "I felt something really strong when I first saw you. Like, I just HAD to know more about you. I didn't think it would lead to... THIS quite this quickly. But, this morning when I woke up, something in me really missed you. I wanted so bad to see you again. I was worried that I was overreacting and that you didn't feel the same way, but then..." She cooed and gripped me in a strong hug.

    When she relaxed, it was my turn. "The moment I saw you at the party, the first thing I thought was, 'That is the most beautiful person in the entire world.' The second thing was, 'There's no way she's not with someone.' But, I couldn't stop myself. I knew that if I didn't talk to you then, I'd probably never see you again and would always kick myself for letting the chance go. After I did, and we got to talking, I found out you were even more amazing than I could have imagined. I've never felt more comfortable being with someone than being with you last night."

    Hannah's eyes got misty. She tapped me on the chest with one finger. "You know, I was this close to using a line on you last night, right before you went into your dorm." I raised an eyebrow. "I was going to say... " She giggled with embarrassment. "'I'd really love to make you coffee tomorrow morning.'"

    "Really?" I asked. Hannah positively glowed. I brushed my hands through her hair. "Hannah, how about I make you coffee in the morning from now on?"

    Her eyes twinkled. "Allie, I'd love that."

    We kissed. Our bodies melted into one. We made love to each other more deliberately this time, lavishing plenty of attention on each part of one another's anatomy. She enjoyed running her hands all over my full, round breasts and licking my nipples until they were taut and the electrical jolts her tonguing sent to my crotch made me squirm. I rolled her to her back. My mouth dove between her tits, kissing the warmth it found there. I kept going down her chest, tickling her tummy with tender pecks. Upon reaching the area between her legs, I shifted my position and began licking the folds around her vagina. Her fingers grabbed at my hair and dragged across my scalp.

    I inserted my index and middle fingers together deep into her. Hannah moaned, rocking her hips languidly. I rotated my hand, working in and out of her wet cleft faster and faster. "Yes. Yes," she insisted. I lowered my tongue just above where my fingers disappeared, searching, then finding the hard nub I sought to ravish. Hannah held her mouth closed, making more and more impassioned grunts.

    Abruptly, Hannah shouted loud and long in ecstasy. I kept pumping deep inside her and licking her clitoris mercilessly until she finally tore my head away, hauled me forcefully against her, and squeezed me with all her might. Her cries of joy resounded off the walls of my room for some time before eventually subsiding. If anyone on the hall was still wondering if I was a lesbian or not, they definitely had their answer.

    After about a minute, Hannah pushed me over to one side so she could breathe freely. She cupped one of my breasts and massaged it. A fingertip circled my areola. I shivered involuntarily. She giggled, slithered a leg over top of mine and began grinding her pelvis against my body.

    "You want more?" I asked, a little incredulously.

    "Mm hmm!" she nodded.

    "You're insatiable!"

    Her face twisted in a devious grin. "Think you can keep up?" she challenged. My princess had a naughty streak. Delicious.

    "What did you have in mind?" But Hannah was already moving to give me her answer.

    She parted my legs and caressed my thighs and stomach. Dropping her head to my burning crotch, Hannah showed me what a tongue could really do to a woman. She'd told me that she'd had two "brief" relationships with girls when she was younger. What those had taught her she demonstrated fantastically on my quivering pussy. I went from calm to magnificent euphoria in less than two minutes. I reared up and looked down at her, but she wasn't done. Hannah attacked my clit with skill. I had little time to marvel at her ability as my body awakened to an even higher state of arousal.

    I came, a full arch-your-back, grip-the sheets, curl-your-toes, throw-back-your-head-and-scream rhapsody of an orgasm. Hannah crawled above me as I lay there, panting and speechless.

    We looked lovingly into each other's eyes for a long time. I was so happy I was close to tears. I was in paradise, with an angel for company.

    My stomach growled, ruining the mood. Hannah laughed that beautiful laugh of hers.

    "Shall we rejoin society?" she said, patting my tummy.

    "If we have to..."

    Hannah paused, admiring me once again. "God, Allie. Your eyes are so... intense. You have the most powerful gaze of anyone I've ever met."

    "I don't want to miss the smallest detail... especially when I'm with you."

    "Don't you get all mushy!" she chided, playfully slapping my side. My stomach gurgled again. Hannah chuckled. "Let's get you fed."

    **********

    And feed me she did. Over the next five months and on into springtime, Hannah filled me with all the love and attention I could hold. I gave myself completely to her, visiting daily, walking with her to or from classes, and spending the weekends at her house. She introduced me to tennis, took me swimming, and even got me to start jogging.

    I met her housemates Tamara and Chandra, who were very nice and didn't tease us too badly when Hannah and I got cute around each other. Even after that one time when an early March storm dashed our plans for a hike around a nearby lake and Hannah and I spent the morning in bed exploring one another's bodies incessantly. When we finally stumbled out of her room, clothes disheveled and hair sticking every which way, Tamara was sitting there in the kitchen shaking her head.

    "Holy fucking shit, you two." She held up her phone. I was still squinting after encountering the bright sunshine after the dimness of the bedroom. The numbers read 1:26. That clock had to be wrong. It wasn't even close to noon yet. Then I noticed that she was showing us her phone's stopwatch app. "And that's not even counting the fifteen minutes you two were going at it before I started timing."

    "We're really sorry, Tamara." I said. "We just got ah... carried away."

    Hannah attempted a rescue. "Since we're stuck inside, how about I make dinner for everyone tonight?"

    Tamara saw an opening. "You make those Swedish meatballs of yours, we're all good."

    The four of us saw movies together, held court together in the dining hall at the same table each lunchtime, or just hung out in the living room talking until late. It was a glorious time and I was probably the happiest I'd ever been up to that point in my life. During my second semester as the weather warmed, my grades started slipping. Hannah put a stop to that, insisting that I do my homework and even enlisted Chandra, a Journalism major, to help me with my essay writing.

    It was on one Saturday upon returning to my building on campus at the end of one such afternoon completing homework at Hannah's that I happened to pass someone wearing a red plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up leaning against the light post near my dorm's front door. I paid no attention when I heard someone say "Hey," thinking it was for the group of girls approaching from the other direction. The voice spoke up again.

    "Hey, Allie?"

    I turned, unable to figure out who'd call me that other than one or two people on my hall. One of the people in my math class, maybe?

    Standing there with her trademark smirk was Brooke. "What's the matter, you don't recognize me?"

    I almost didn't. She'd grown her hair out on the sides and in the back, and trimmed most of the height on top. She still had the stud in her nose, but nothing in her ears. Her shirt was tucked into her denim skirt and was open at the front, revealing a black tank top underneath. I noticed she had on the same heavy hiking boots from before.

    "Wow. How've you been?"

    "Not bad, not bad. How's the college life?"

    "Been great, really. I love it. Hey, come on in so I can set these books down."

    Brooke filled me in on her life as we went into my room and I arranged my desk chair for her to sit on. She'd moved out of the basement she'd been renting and was now in a city 140 miles away at a job paying her much better than the one she previously had. She'd explored the night life there in her free-spirited way, but found it less exciting than expected. After inquiring with Aunt Miriam what I was up to and finding me fairly close, she decided to surprise me.

    "Sorry I didn't call beforehand, but I didn't have your number."

    "That's OK. Um, I could show you around campus if you'd like. Was there anything in particular you wanted to do while you were out here?"

    "Well..."

    "Hmm?"

    "There is something I wanted to remind you of."

    Brooke held up a small white disk. It looked like an oversized coin. Then I noticed its quartet of button holes. "We never actually finished our match, did we?" she said. A devious smile creeped across Brooke's face.

    In an instant, every fibre of my being awoke. I relived our riotously intense sexfight in a rapid flashback. My eyes stopped seeing the Brooke in front of me, but saw deep into her. She wasn't just some woman standing there in my room. My muscles reflexively tensed, remembering the feel of fighting against her. My skin tingled in anticipation of what it knew she could do to it. My body replayed for me the sensation of being locked together with the feisty brunette, who right now was taunting me with the opportunity to make that experience vivid and real. A hunger I had forgotten I could have returned with a vengeance.

    "You wanna continue it right now?"

    Brooke nonchalantly replaced the button in the pocket of her skirt. "Got anything else to do?"

    "No. My homework's done."

    Brooke strode up, right into my face. "Then, how about I put you under me where you belong... BITCH?"

    I pushed her away, shoving her shoulders. "You honestly think you can come in my room and call me that? Huh, SLUT?"

    Palms up, she wiggled her curled fingers, daring me to come at her. "I call 'em like I see 'em. You gained that freshman fifteen yet?"

    "Five at most. Hey!" I cursed at her laugh. "I'm so gonna enjoy wiping that stupid grin off your face."

    Brooke removed her shirt. "I ain't no pushover, you sleaze bag."

    Oh yes...

    "Shut your fucking mouth, cunt."

    ...we were going to do it...

    "Kiss my ass, you dirty whore."

    ...holding nothing back.

    Brooke and I collided in the middle of the room, hands grasping and arms swatting them aside. I caught her left wrist in my right hand and held fast. She barreled into me. I tried to stop her by pushing on her shoulder with my left hand, but she forced me into the wall. I escaped, spinning her as I dragged her with me. She lost her balance and went down. I was straddling her a few heartbeats later.

    She twisted sideways, knocking my foot out from under me. I went down hard, missing her legs and landing on the floor. Brooke sat up and lunged, aiming for a headlock. I slipped under her attack and grabbed for a hold on her body. Managed to get three fingers around her belt, but couldn't leverage her onto the ground. She untucked my t-shirt with all her furious tugging, then yanked the back of my bra with both hands. That pulled me onto my hands and knees, and I knew she was about to jump on top of me.

    I launched myself with both feet at her, taking us both to the floor. Brooke and I grappled there for several minutes, flopping about in a fierce, slowly rolling ball. She rolled me off at one point, but I regained the top position after a grueling struggle.

    "Quit pulling my fucking hair, you fucking bitch!"

    "Get off me, you skank!" Brooke pushed with her knees. I avoided them and flattened myself against her now that they were out of the way. She tried to roll us, but I straddled her and went for a schoolgirl pin.

    "No you don't, you cunt."

    The pain in my scalp was infuriating. "Eat this, you lousy piece of shit!" I stopped pulling on the hand that was in my hair or grabbing the wrist on her other arm and clawed all my fingers into her boobs.

    "Ow! You big tittied... rrrgh!" she cried, retaliating by sinking her nails into my breasts. In some ways, this pain was worse than the one she inflicted on my head, but I had the upper hand and was giving it everything I had. For a good minute or two, we twisted and mauled each other's tits, hissing and spitting in agony. Eventually, it was too much for me. I threw myself off of her, shepherding my aching boobs as I got to my feet.

    Brooke was hurt as well, I could see as she stood up. One strap of her tank top had come off her shoulder. Her hair was out of place and her cheeks shone from exertion. She reached up to fix her top, but decided not to. She took off her shirt instead, revealing a small black bra.

    "You wanna test these, huh?" she taunted. "Think those fat bags of yours are all that?"

    My shirt was off in an instant. "I'll crush you, Brooke."

    She undid her bra, shaking her head. "These'll beat your flabby tits any day."

    I thrust out my chest once it was out of my bra. My nipples were already stiff. "Never happen." Damn, I wanted this so bad.

    The first bearhug we threw ourselves into almost annihilated both of us. Brooke and I threw so much power into our demolishing embrace that neither could breathe for several seconds. The rough treatment my breasts went through paled in comparison to the pain my ribs encountered. We both exhaled forcefully afterwards, and were more tentative as we strained with arms wrapped about one another the next time. I leaned back, raising her off the floor. She cursed and kicked with both legs. I did it again, feeling her tits compress against mine. She reared her head back and pushed on my shoulders, breathing in short bursts.

    "I've got you, don't I?"

    "Hnnggg." She fought to break free, our naked skin writhing in sweaty contact.

    I put her down, resetting my grip. "How about one more time?"

    Brooke kicked at the back of my knee as I lifted her again. I didn't lose my balance, but ended up not executing as firm a squeeze as I intended. I lowered her quickly, but only one of her feet hit the floor. It slipped out from under her. We fell as one, hitting the thin rug with an impact that knocked the air out of our lungs. I toppled to one side, and Brooke took advantage to get atop me. It wasn't for long. I jerked her to my right and we went tumbling over and over until we smashed into the desk chair.

    Grunting like wild animals, we spun our rolling ball of fury the other way. Knotted tightly together, we fought and wrestled for dominance for over five minutes. I was focused completely as I'd never been before. Brooke pushed me to my limits of strength, endurance, and strategy. I nearly had her pinned twice, only for a supreme effort on her part to wriggle a way free. She was finding me quite a challenge, I could tell. She wasn't able to hold me down with just her arms and I was able to outlast her leg scissor holds and break out of them through brute force and persistence. She had to get on top of me with her entire body. I knew that, and prevented it every time she attempted it.

    Finally, Brooke trapped my leg with hers. She mounted me, slamming her crotch into mine repeatedly. I retaliated, humping her right back and grabbing a fistful of her right tit. She groped one of my boobs and continued grinding me with her exposed white panties. Feeling myself getting more and more aroused, I pushed her chest with my foot. She landed on her back. I brought my thighs together on her groin as hard as I could. She thrust back, and we commenced banging into one another, ramping up the friction against our cunts. A sighing moan from her told me that my efforts weren't in vain.

    "Getting you hot, Brooke baby?" I only got an exasperated grunt in reply.

    The two of us sped on, driving ourselves and each other out of our minds with erotic sensations. I pulled on Brooke's leg, really pressing myself into her as close as I could go, and twisting my crotch against hers. "Fuck," she panted. I did it again. "Fuck," she repeated, then put on a mask of concentration. It did her no good. I'd aimed for her clit, and guessed I'd found it. Twenty seconds later, she threw her head back and groaned a good, long release. I took a minute to catch my breath. Brooke lay still save for the rising and falling of her conical tits. I waited for her to stir before reminding her I had the upper hand.

    "Worn out yet, bitch?" I said, giving her another pump.

    "Shut it. Your little pussy is going to be a fucking wreck when I'm done with it." Brooke matched my rhythm. Fabric swished with increasing speed.

    "That's not what I'm hearing. You sound like your weak pussy is ready to cum again already." I steeled myself to control my rising desire. Oh, how I was going to conquer Brooke, wear her down, pin her body firmly with mine, hear her submit...

    "Hah! You don't know the first thing about pleasing a woman."

    "Oh, I certainly do." I leaned down to kiss her, then froze. Something was wrong. It was her lips. They were the wrong shape; they looked nothing like what I was used to...

    The lightning bolt of sanity that struck me at that moment fried every nerve ending in my body, turned every bone to jelly and burnt my desire to ash. I snapped right out of the heated duel -- one that I'd jumped headlong into without using a fucking shred of common sense -- and realized with crystal clarity exactly what I was doing.

    I scrambled away from the prone brunette I'd just humped to orgasm and sat against the wall with my knees up against my chest. Brooke sat up, looking around to find me. She startled at my panicked expression.

    "Oh. Fucking. No," I shuddered. "No, no, no no no."

    "What?"

    "You... you need to get out," I whimpered.

    "Wait, what the fuck? Allie, what's-"

    "You need to get out of my room, RIGHT NOW!" There was a darkness descending. I could feel it. It was going to get me. Nothing was going to stop it.

    "Allie?" Brooke asked, uncertainly. "At least tell me what's going on."

    "I... I can't!"

    "Look, I'm sorry if I triggered some bad memory or something... I didn't mean to. I just thought..." She smacked her hand into her head. "Oh, God. I fucked up. Dammit!"

    'No, no. It's my fault. It's always my fault,' I wanted to say, but didn't. I stayed in my self-imposed prison, a convicted felon awaiting the gallows. She collected her clothes and got dressed.

    "I'm really sorry, OK?" Her voice was wavering. That just made things worse. I covered my head in my arms. "I thought we could pick up where we left off, and you seemed into it, but... now you're freaking out. You're freaking ME out." She paused. "I left my number on your desk. Call me, alright?"

    Receiving no response, she left. I listened to her boots clomp down the hall and vanish.

    **********

    Questions. So many questions and no answers, no fucking answers anywhere. Why do I do this to myself every time? Why do I have the propensity to destroy everything and everyone around me? That's the whole reason I walled myself off from everyone at high school. I didn't mind being the loner weirdo. It meant that I couldn't bring people suffering when I inevitably charge forward too hard, too fast, too far. If I let people get close to me, I will hurt them. Hurt the ones I care about most.

    Oh, fuck. Hannah. Hannah Hannah Hannah.

    What the hell am I going to do? Someone on the hall must've seen us coming in. Someone must've heard us. We were making too much noise for them not to. Word is going to get around.

    What could I possibly say to Hannah? Nothing! Nothing that doesn't sound like a lame excuse or worse: 'We were just play fighting.' 'It's not a sexual thing.' 'I was caught up in the moment.' All terrible. I'm such a fuckup.

    I was being slowly digested in the gut of a great, pitiless monster.

    That night lasted eons. I didn't eat dinner. I didn't sleep. I woke up on the floor like discarded trash that had been trampled underfoot.

    **********

    I met Hannah for lunch at our usual table at the dining hall. I had to, or she'd suspect something. She was bright and cheery and I quickly fell into joking around with her. She didn't know. Of course she didn't. Why would she? She'd never know. Life was fine. It was normal. We made plans to go out to the mall after lunch. Different surroundings, away from campus. Good times.

    As was my habit, at the end of lunch I went to get soft serve cones from the machine. Vanilla/chocolate twist for both of us. I never took a bite out of either of them so that Hannah could pick which one she wanted. As I came around the last corner on my way back, I heard my name.

    "...you know Allison Parker?"

    "Yes, I'm a good friend of hers," I heard Hannah say.

    I stepped into view of our table and stopped dead. Someone was standing at my chair, leaning over towards Hannah. Smiling and shaking my girlfriend's hand.

    "I'm a good friend of hers, too. My name's Brooke. Brooke Marx."

    Kill me now.

    "Oh? She's never mentioned you."

    Someone just fucking kill me now.

    **********

    There are times when you know you are screwed, totally and utterly. In deep shit so far down that all is pitch black.

    I stood there like a complete idiot, melting ice cream dripping over my clenched fingers, watching as the two people I'd never want to have meet introduced each other. I swayed like the victim of a construction site accident, head knocked dizzy by a falling girder, chest crushed and unable to breathe after being hit by a wrecking ball.

    It got worse. They noticed me at the same time. Turning, they greeted me with pleasant looks on their faces. Like I was going to waltz over and clear up a silly little misunderstanding. Emotion washed through me like the prelude to throwing up. They noticed the pained look on my face, and the twin hot tears that I couldn't stop from forming at the corners of my eyes.

    "Allie? Sweetheart?" said Hannah, worriedly getting up.

    I saw realization dawn on Brooke's face. That did it. Everything was fucked. She knew. It was only a matter of time before Hannah saw Brooke's look of dismay and started running through possible explanations in her mind. I didn't want her to imagine any of them. Her beginning to doubt or distrust me was something I couldn't bear, but there was no stopping the truth now. It sped like a spinning car on a wet road right toward a cliff. There was nothing I could do but take hold of the wheel and do my best to steer.

    "I need some fresh air," I said, managing to keep my voice from breaking. "Let's go somewhere quiet."

    **********

    On a bench near a large oak tree, I regained my composure and faced Hannah.

    "Hannah, I promised to always tell the truth to you, right? Well, what I'm about to tell you may sound crazy, but it really happened." I swallowed a bite of soft serve and began. "Brooke lived next door to my cousin back when my family visited a year or so ago. She joined us during our get-together and hung out with us for the whole day. It was pretty memorable in that Caroline and my cousin Samantha decided it would be fun for the four of us to roughhouse as a group. We played 'Queen of the Mountain', which Samantha won, where we tried to push each other off this big queen-sized bed."

    Hannah snorted. I knew that this was far from her experience of growing up, and hoped she didn't think I was exaggerating as I continued.

    "Later, my cousin took us out to a field because Caroline had been shit-talking her, and we had a mud wrestling competition: Brooke versus me, and Caroline versus Samantha." Hannah didn't react visibly. "It was a blast, really. We got filthy dirty." Hannah's eyes narrowed in questioning disbelief.

    "She beat me," Brooke admitted. "Fair and square." My poor girlfriend was trying to wrap her mind around what she was hearing. This was obviously something she couldn't quite relate to.

    "Despite that," I said conspiratorially, "she challenged me to a rematch, and she and I fought again that evening. That one ended in a draw. We both really enjoyed that fight, and it lasted, what, almost an hour?"

    "About that long," Brooke nodded.

    "You beat each other up?" Hannah asked incredulously.

    "No, no. No fists or anything. It was wrestling, like WWE, but without the ring or bodyslams or stuff."

    "So it wasn't really violent..."

    "Oh, it was plenty violent alright," I said. "We both seriously wanted to win. I was wrecked, totally worn out on the ride back home." Brooke made a show of rubbing her shoulder to confirm the point. "And then," I chose my words carefully, "yesterday she shows up out of the blue and asks for round three."

    Hannah studied my face. "And?"

    "That ended in a draw." I noticed Brooke had a small smirk on her face, reminding me that she knew exactly what I was leaving out of my story. "I hadn't talked with her since my family get-together, and didn't know until yesterday that she'd moved to Greenville."

    Hannah turned to Brooke. "You drove two and a half hours just to challenge Allie to fight you?"

    Brooke gave my girlfriend that patented smile of hers. "I knew she'd be up for it." I grinned sheepishly at this. "You see, finding someone who's into fighting the way we do is so rare. And finding Allie is even rarer, because she's a perfect match for me."

    Hannah, irritated, put her hand on my arm. "She IS rare, and she's MY perfect match -- but not the way you're talking about."

    "No, I get it. So, you don't share?"

    "Hell no, I don't!"

    "Hannah and I are..." I began, but Hannah cut me off.

    "If you try to get close to her again, you'll have to go through me first!"

    "Uh..." I was confused. Where did this come from?

    "No offense," Brooke said confidently, "but I'm pretty sure I can beat you fairly easily."

    I was tense in a microsecond. "You are not going to lay a single..."

    Hannah, giving Brooke a stern glare, shook her head. "It doesn't work like that. You make the challenge, so I get to choose the weapons. You have to beat me at the sport of my choosing."

    "Like...?"

    "Tennis. Swimming. That sort of thing." I felt like a spectator at center court, my head darting back and forth between Hannah and Brooke. This was getting out of control. I had to...

    "Alright. But, it has to be a different one each time. Otherwise, you'll just keep picking one I have no chance of beating you at."

    "I don't think..." I tried to interject.

    "Fine," Hannah agreed.

    "Dammit, don't I get a say in this?"

    Hannah finally looked in my direction. "What? You got a better idea?"

    "It's just..." Shit, I wasn't used to doing this sort of thing. "Hannah, you don't have to do this to prove yourself to me. You know I love you absolutely, no matter what."

    "Sweetheart, I know I don't have to prove myself to you. But I do to her. And I will."

    Brooke smiled mischievously. "Well, now. I'm going to be looking forward to the weekends in a serious way from now on."

    The way Hannah held herself imperiously let me know that I had no chance of altering the outcome of the deal. "Until then," she demanded, "you have to stay away!"

    Brooke nodded graciously, gave a little wave, and then departed. When she was out of sight, Hannah exhaled all the tension built up in her. Her hands shook like an old person's. She breathed in and out forcefully. It took me nearly a minute to find any words to say.

    "Hannah, I'm..."

    "I did that, didn't I?" She inhaled and exhaled, then faced me. "I did it. Thank you, Allie!" She kissed my cheek and gave me a hug.

    "Hannah, I'm not sure that was the best idea."

    "You would have done the same thing for me, right?" I nodded. "Well, that's how I got the courage to do it. I think that after a week or two of humiliating defeats, she'll get the message. You have sworn fealty in my kingdom, have you not? You're not some mercenary she can drop in and spar with. Knightly contests occur only upon royal decree!"

    I held my tongue. Hannah's eyes had a sheen to them, a fire I had never seen before. I was conflicted, suddenly unsure of what this newly revealed aspect of my girlfriend meant.

    **********

    Next Saturday, Tennis racquets were in fact Hannah's first choice of dueling implements. I sat in the stands, thinking of ways to send Brooke away in the event that she won. I needn't have bothered. Brooke didn't even own a pair of tennis shoes; she wore her hiking boots. She barely got the ball over the net during her first three times at serve. Hannah destroyed her 6-0, 6-0.

    Brooke accepted defeat gracefully. Hannah nodded in response. Brooke advanced as if to offer to stick around for lunch, but Hannah shook her head and shooed her away. I caught Brooke's expression as she met my gaze on her way off the court: a wry look that meant her resolve hadn't withered. I joined Hannah in a celebratory kiss, but something in my stomach didn't feel right.

    For the week after that, Hannah picked swimming. She texted Brooke on Wednesday and showed me the reply: "You're fucking serious?" Oh, she was, Brooke. She was. I was looking forward to this one. Not because I thought it was going to be a fair contest. I knew it wasn't. Not because I wanted to see Brooke demolished yet again. I had a much more personal, and lewd, reason.

    The sight of Hannah in that blue, one-piece racing swimsuit of hers is one of my ultimate turn-ons. The first few times we went to the university pool, I could barely keep my hands off of her before, during or after our swim. She stopped suggesting swimming as an activity, and I hadn't seen her in that tight, sleek, high-legged outfit in months.

    Hannah moved like a dolphin in the water, Brooke like a beachgoer contending with a riptide. I cheered Hannah's victory. She emerged from the pool like Venus, perfectly formed and dripping wet. I watched her dry herself off until she threw the towel right in my face.

    "Here," she said, walking the direction of the locker room, "for your drool."

    Brooke paddled in and hung onto the side of the pool, panting hard. She looked at me in consternation. "Enjoying this?" she spat.

    I shrugged. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Hannah watching me at the locker room entrance. I took the hint and followed her.

    Afterwards, she got in her car to return to her house and I trudged back to my dorm room. I generally agreed with the lesson Hannah was trying to teach Brooke, but was disturbed by the methods she was using. I couldn't go and text Brooke directly, because then I would have to lie if Hannah ever asked me and that was a line I refused to cross. I wanted to make the situation better but felt helpless to do anything about it.

    I'd thought about just admitting defeat, granting the final best two of three win to Brooke if she ever managed to beat Hannah at something. That deeply offended my sensibilities. It would hurt Brooke after all the effort she put in. Furthermore, it was be denying myself something. That thing that Brooke's reappearance had awakened in me, and her presence near me each weekend reminded me of.

    My thoughts were spiraling without conclusion when I walked in my building.

    "He-ey, Alli-son!" said a chorus of girls standing in the hall in a unison sing-song voice. I gave them an "OK, whatever" look and unlocked my door.

    Draped seductively against the back of my desk chair was Hannah, naked except for her swimsuit, her hair draped over one shoulder, eyeing me like a femme fatale.

    How? Wait, what's going- The spare key I'd given Hannah gleamed on the desk.

    "Heard you were the handy type... for people who are in need." Hannah was doing a pretty decent Lauren Bacall. "Y'see, I'm in a bit of a fix," she said, indicating what she meant by languidly tugging the shoulder strap of her swimsuit.

    "You figure I can get you out of it, do ya?" I took a few steps towards her slowly.

    "It's okay if you're a little rough," she purred, tossing her head and fixing me with a smokey stare. "I can take it."

    Hannah Johansson, I am yours.

    For weeks, I got persistent ribbing from the girls on the hall for the noise we made that day.

    **********

    The next weekend saw me caddy for Hannah on Brooke's first eighteen holes of golf. Numerous triple bogeys later, Brooke shot Hannah a frustrated snarl. "You think you can get me to give up our little contest?"

    "It seems to be getting to you," snarked Hannah. Remaining impassive was becoming more and more difficult.

    The Saturday after that brought a quandary. Brooke insisted that she be given another try, but I was going home for the weekend for my mother's birthday celebration. Brooke was concerned that Hannah might tell me she'd won even if she lost and I'd believe her. My solution was for them to film their contest if I couldn't be there. They both agreed.

    The weekend was strange. I hadn't really told my parents about Hannah, mainly because I hadn't even come out to them yet. I felt that was something I wanted to do with Hannah by my side. My family didn't seem disturbed by the image of their youngest member being an anti-social nerd, so I rolled with it.

    Upon my return, Hannah had an SD card for me from her camera. I sat down at the computer and watched her play horseshoes against Brooke. Afterwards, I had nothing but praise for her.

    "Great job! That was close! Brooke could have beaten you, but you ringed the post on the last toss." She sat in my lap, straddling me. "I'm so glad you won."

    "With you, I can't lose."

    I kissed her. "What was that conversation you and she had there at the end?"

    "Oh, that? She's becoming a sore loser. All part of the plan." She kissed me sweetly. We sat in that position for a while.

    "Are you going to let me up?"

    "No," she said, running her palms down my sides to my hips. "This is my victory lap."

    "That was really bad, Hannah." She laughed. My heart soared. "And bad girls get punished." I tickled her sides. She shrieked. The chair teetered. We barely got to our feet before it clattered to the floor. I held her close and we leaned into the desk. We made out for a few minutes, then Hannah remembered something.

    "Did you work on your English term paper this weekend?"

    "No," I grudgingly admitted.

    "So, you're behind on it."

    I looked down at the papers on the desk she partially covered. "No, actually, you're behind is on it."

    Hannah closed here eyes and giggled. "Now who's the bad girl?"

    "Alas, 'tis I. What's the punishment to be, your highness?"

    Hannah was serious. "You work on your paper this week. Here in your room. Do not come over to the house until its ready for Chandra to proofread."

    "Yes, my lady." I curtsied using an invisible skirt. Hannah's eyes softened.

    "Sex first, though."

    **********

    I had a big test that week in math, too, so all thought of goofing around evaporated in the sweatshop that was my dorm room. I spent Friday night in the library photocopying and making notes, and all morning Saturday working on the conclusion and bibliography. I'd sent a draft of the first two sections to Chandra, and was happy to be able to deliver the full final draft that afternoon. She showed me her suggestions and corrections, and then went out with Tamara to an open air concert for the evening. I busily rewrote and reorganized paragraphs so that I could show Hannah when she got back from her trip to the mall.

    When Hannah finally showed up late in the afternoon, I still had a few bits to do, but felt good about what I had. I'd done well, and was hoping she wouldn't mind going out to dinner. I greeted her, and she said, "Hi" back. Her face was unreadable.

    She walked up to me, glanced at the document on my laptop and the marked up printout next to it, then opened her palm. In it lay an SD card.

    "Wait, did you and Brooke... And you didn't tell... oh, you didn't want to interrupt my English project, did you?"

    Hannah's voice was perfectly neutral. "Just watch it."

    "You won, right?" I couldn't tell anything from her demeanor.

    She offered her palm again. "Watch all of it."

  2. #2
    Senior Hostboard Member Augur's Avatar
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    Re: The Right Choice - Part 2

    Wow, Catharsis, what an amazing new series! The quality of writing is exceptional, as are the vivid descriptions of the characters and their interactions. Great job!

    Now, being a boob-guy, I would've loved for that part the characters' physiques to get even more detailed attention. The tit-to-tit action is of course merely a sideshow in Allison and Brooke's catfights, but I gathered that Allison has a fuller, more rounded pair while Brooke's breasts are more conical. Any info on their sizes and/or firmness? Would it be safe to assume the girls are evenly matched there? And how does Hannah's bust compare?

    Also, since I happen to be Finnish myself, I can't help but note that Hannah Johansson is very much a Swedish name, the Danes and the Norwegians ending their surnames with a -sen. Clearly of Scandinavian heritage in any case, lol.

    I really enjoyed the cliffhanger too, just what kind of competition did Brooke and Hannah face each other in this time... and who ended up winning?!

    Can't wait for the next part!

    Augur

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    Re: The Right Choice - Part 2

    Keeps getting better!

    Also, wow does Brooke want to fight Allison bad! She basically has to drive for over two hours just to see her.

    I do agree with the above commentor that more detailed body descriptiond would help visualize the story better. Right now my head canon is that Brooke and Allison are short, stocky, well muscled girls with equally sized boobs and muscles.

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