Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Author: wandrer
Title: Broken Up
Part: Chapter 1
Universe: The Coin of Chaos
(http://groups.yahoo.com/group/coin_of_chaos/)
Keywords: humil, mc, mast, magic
Summary: An errant wish is once again spun darkly by the Coin of Chaos,
turning an innocent girl into the unspoken fantasies of the boyfriend she
breaks up with.
Disclaimer: This story is a work of adult fiction and contains sexually
explicit material that some may find offensive.  It is meant for persons
over the age of 18 and is not suitable for children.  All characters
contained within are purely fictional, any similarity of any character,
event or place to any actual person, event or place, is purely
coincidental.
The author reserves all rights to this work.  It may be freely
distributed, posted and archived electronically only in its entirety
including all header material.  It may not be sold in whole or in any part,
or as part of an electronic document, printed material, voice recording or
any other manner without proper copyright clearances being obtained from

the author.

   "Broken Up" - Chapter 1

   Vicky sat fidgeting in the cafe where she waited for her boyfriend,
Paul, to arrive.  Her stomach was doing flip-flops in anticipation of what
she was planning to say to him, and how he might react.  Her hand reached
up to pull at her hair, and for the umpteenth time today, she found herself
rubbing her neck instead.  Even after a week, she couldn't seem to remember
her new hairstyle.

   All her life, growing up in a small southern town, she'd kept her hair
long.  Getting it cut short like this - her fingers rubbed the fuzz on the
back of her neck where there used to be long hair - was part of her attempt
to distance herself from that small town past, now that she was a freshman
in college in a huge city.

   And yet every time she tried to be urbane and sophisticated like all the
other girls here seemed to be, she just felt more and more out of place,
more like the country girl she was trying so hard to escape.

   Paul was the hardest part to adjust to.  Which was why...

   "Hey!"

   She jumped with a yelp as Paul swung into the seat across from her with
a grin.  As always happened as soon as he was close, her whole body seemed
to start tingling.  Her heart started to pound, and...other parts of her
body seemed to flush with heat.  It wasn't that he was so gorgeous - he
would be the first to admit that he was something of a big, goofy-looking
guy.  It was just something about him...some chemical connection...made her
feel so strange.  Made her want to do anything for him...

   It terrified her.  That was why she was doing what she knew she had to.
Why she'd asked him to meet her here.

   "Check this out!" Paul said excitedly.  She could tell he was nervous -
he always seemed a little nervous around her, ever since they'd started
dating a month ago.  She knew he felt the same overwhelming connection she
did.

   Paul reached into his pocket and pulled out something that glittered
gold in the light and tossed it on the table in front of her.  He grinned
again, rubbing his hands against the cold.

   "I just found that!  It was lying in the snow on the way across the
plaza.  You believe that?  I think it's gold...and it looks pretty old!  I
wonder if it's worth something."

   Vicky reached down and picked up the item - a large golden coin, she
discovered.  It did indeed look like real gold...and had a strange feeling
of age about it as well, even though it shone brightly in the cafe's light.
On one side was depicted a large dragon breathing fire, laying waste to an
ancient town.  On the other, a sea storm was similarly destroying a simple
ancient village.

   Vicky shivered.  Something about the coin made her uneasy.  And yet she
held it in her hands, fingering the edges as she looked up at Paul's
lopsided grin.

   "Cool, huh?"

   Vicky nodded, and then opened her mouth to say what she had to, but the
waitress chose just then to walk over and ask for their order.  Vicky
quickly ordered another coffee, and Paul echoed her.  Paul began chatting
again as the waitress walked away.

   "So, anyway, like I said, I just found the coin lying there...I wonder
if it is part of some collection or something?  I guess I'd better call the
lost and found...I mean, I wouldn't want to steal it from someone or
anything.  Still it's..."

   "I think we should break up."

   Paul paused, mouth open in the middle of his discussion of the coin. 
Vicky trembled, turning the coin over in her hands as she stared at him. 
She hadn't meant to be so abrupt.  She'd wanted to make it easier.  But the
longer he talked, the harder it was to do what she needed to do.

   As it was, the hurt look rapidly transforming his features dug into her
heart like a knife.

   "...wh-what?  Vicky, I...what did I do?"

   "Nothing!  Nothing," Vicky muttered, trying to keep the tears from
coming, "I just...it's me...I can't..."

   "But...but...what about last night?"

   Vicky swallowed and looked up at him.  There it was.  The reason and the
question she'd been dreading.

   Last night had been amazing...it had been wonderful...it horrified her.
Her thoughts drifted back to it...his hands lifting her shirt above her
head, unsnapping her bra...it falling away to let her firm c-cups dangle in
front of him...the first boy who had ever seen her breasts.  She'd had to
bite her lip to keep from crying out as his tongue began to encircle first
one nipple, then the other...it had felt *so* good.

   It had taken all of her strength to stop him when one trembling hand had
slid to the waistband of her sweatpants.  The truth was, she'd *wanted* him
to slide his hand down further...to feel between her legs...where she'd
been able feel herself getting embarrassingly wet, ready for him to use
her...to do whatever he wanted with her...

   Her breath caught as she realized she was getting turned on again just
thinking about it.  She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, a sharp rush of
pleasure from her hard nipples almost causing her to yelp.  She flushed in
embarrassment and pulled her coat closed, hoping he hadn't noticed.

   This was why they had to break up.  She knew that she wouldn't be able
to do that for very long without giving in to the sinful desires of her
body.  Though she wasn't very active here at college, she'd been raised in
a good southern baptist household, and she couldn't have sex before
marriage.  She just couldn't.

   No matter how much she wanted to.

   As she tried to come up with a response, she looked at Paul.  She knew
he wasn't ready to be married any time soon...and worse, she knew he would
never get married *without* having sex first.  They'd talked about enough -
even through both of their nervousness - for her to know that much.  It
just couldn't work.  No matter how much she loved him...how much she wanted
him.

   "I'm sorry, Paul," she whispered, trembling hands gripping the coin so
hard her fingers were turning white, "I...I just...I really wish I acted
like the kind of girl you fantasized about...I just...I just can't..."

   She stood with a sob, dropping the coin to the table.  It fell with a
thud of finality as she turned and stumbled from the cafe, sobbing.  He
tears burned on her cheeks in the cold air as she walked back to her dorm.

   "Vicky?  Vicky wait...!"

   As she stumbled from the cafe, Paul fell back into his chair in shock.
How could she just end it like this?  He knew she felt like he did - they'd
both been obsessed with each other from the moment they'd met.

   The waitress set down his coffee with a stern look on her face, clearly
wondering what he cold have done to Vicky to make her run out crying like
that.  But after one look at the crushed expression on his own, she sighed
and set her hand down on his shoulder in comfort.  He smiled weakly at her
in thanks.

   Paul just didn't understand.  He'd never pressured her about sex.  Last
night had been *her* idea!  She'd suggested staying the night.  And he'd
been careful to be responsive to her limits - he'd stopped when she'd
grabbed his hand, even though he wanted to push her further.

   He just didn't get it.

   Shaking his head, he reached across and grabbed the coin from where
she'd dropped it.  And where had that fantasy comment come from?  She
certainly didn't want to act like his fantasies - a nice southern girl like
her?  Hell, *he* didn't want her to act like the kind of girl he fantasized
about.  He knew his fantasies were just that, and were best if they stayed
in his head.

   He just wanted Vicky.

   Fighting against the knot in his stomach, Paul sat and drank his coffee,
slipping the coin back into his pocket.

   Vicky stumbled into her dorm room and fell against her closing door,
sobbing.  Her mind seemed to seethe with conflicting emotions.  She loved
Paul, but what she wanted to do with him went against her entire
upbringing. And her parents would never approve of him, no matter how
likeable he was.  It was better this way.  No matter how much it hurt.

   Even worse, for some reason even through the emotional storm she was
feeling as she ran home in the cold winter air, her body seemed to be
heating up like a furnace.  She leaned against the door, panting both from
running and from unexplained arousal.  Her nipples actually ached under her
bodysuit (her outfit of choice most days), and she burned with
embarrassment from the several boys who had stared at her as she stumbled
into the dorm with them jutting proudly upwards from beneath the tight
fabric.

   Wiping the tears from her eyes, she moved from the door into the room.
She felt *very* odd.  Her whole body was trembling, and her clothes felt
increasingly uncomfortable, especially her bodysuit - her hard nipples sent
sharp bursts of pleasure and pain from rubbing against the fabric every
time she breathed.

   She found herself staring into the mirror as she fumbled at her jeans.
Usually she hated looking at herself, but for some reason, today, she found
herself looking over her body.  Her cute, round face was white with rosy
cheeks from the cold.  She was quite curvy (she always thought of herself
as fat, as her mother had said she was), with smooth white skin, and her
largish, firm breasts...topped with perky nipples that were sticking out
almost a quarter inch, so embarrassingly.

   She pushed her jeans down and let out a small squeak of horror as her
eyes widened as they drifted to her warm crotch.  Her bodysuit was
*soaked*. She reached down and pulled the snap, letting out an involuntary
gasp of pleasure as the stretchy fabric slid back over her wet panties. 
She shivered, and whimpered in disgust at her own body.  She hooked two
thumbs over her white cotton panties and slid them down.

   She let out another gasp of horror as they peeled away from her
privates, a glistening stream of her juices dripping down after them.  What
was *wrong* with her?  Oh, she was disgusting!  She was *oozing* with
wetness.  She sniffled in disgust and horror at herself, at her body
betraying her like this.  She smelled intensely of sex.

   She had to shower.

   She reached down and pulled her bodysuit up and over her head, jerking
with a moan when one of the straps wet with her gross fluids had brushed
her lip accidentally.  Her breasts fell free and dangled, and she let out a
sigh - it actually felt *really* good to be out of those clothes, to
finally have her still-hard nipples free.  What had she been *thinking*,
not wearing a bra this morning?  Her breasts were *far* too big and her
nipples way to obvious to be held back by just that bodysuit, she thought
as she reached up and cupped them in her hands, running her fingertips over
her...wow - her *incredibly* sensitive nipples!

   "Mmmm...." she moaned.

   Then froze in horror.

   What was she doing?  She had been staring at herself naked in the
mirror, grinning, and her hands had started rubbing and kneading her
breasts, her thumbs stroking her hard nipples.  It felt *amazing*...and she
was completely horrified.

   Or should have been.

   She couldn't seem to feel the disgust she knew she should - instead, she
found herself smiling with a somewhat manic expression at her naked body. A
feeling...not pleasure exactly, but certainly a close relative, seemed to
wash over herself in waves.  She felt...excited.

   Breathing deeply, she stared wide-eyed at her own voluptuous body,
cupping her breasts and licking her lips sexily.  She felt *so* sexy. 
Mmm....and it felt so nice to touch her own body

   She kind of wished she had someone to show her body to.

   Her eyes wandered down to her roommate's computer.  With its webcam,
that Misha used to talk to her grandparents in new jersey...

   Vicky leaned down and grinned into the webcam.  She pretended she was on
camera, being beamed out to anyone who wanted to watch a sexy teenager with
big tits dangling down in front of her.  She giggled, as she shook her tits
feeling them jiggle beneath her.

   For just a moment a burst of horror filled her at what she was doing -
what was she doing?  she was acting like a dirty slut!  - but then that
overwhelming feeling of *rightness* and sexiness filled her again.  She
grinned at the camera, lazily.  Her tongue slid slowly over her lips as she
slid her hands under her large, soft breasts, shivering slightly as she
cupped them like she imagined some slutty girl might do, offering them to
one of her many lovers.

   "That's right...I'm a *slut*," she breathed, and shivered again at the
sound of it, "just a dirty, dirty little slut.  Vicky the *slut*."

   She giggled, then choked out a small sob, then giggled again.  She
grabbed her nipples between her thumb and forefingers and pulled her large
breasts upward, gasping at the pain and pleasure she felt...she liked the
combination.

   "I'm just a little *slut*!  Look at my brea...my *tits*.  That's right.
My hard nipples and my big tits.  And my wet little puAHHHH!"

   As she'd talked to herself in the camera, burning with excitement, her
right hand had slid down and slid over her still-dripping pussy.  She
nearly fell over at the blast of pleasure that ripped through her as her
slim fingers slid between the wet lips of her warm cunt.  She moaned as she
slid the fingers up and down her slit, slippery with her excitement.

   "Oh *GOD*" she moaned, smiling beatifically at the sensation.  She'd
only played with herself once before, the night she'd met Paul, actually.
The tingle between her legs had made her crazy, and she'd stroked her clit
forever.  Her orgasm had been...amazing, but the feeling had scared her so
much that she hadn't dared to do it again.  She was afraid she'd never
stop.

   But it hadn't felt like this.

   She stood, rubbing herself and moaning, still grinning at the webcam. 
The room was full of the smell of her sex, as her hips began to hump
involuntarily against her hand.  It felt so *good*.  And yet she felt like
she needed more.  It was building...but she wanted something *inside* of
her.  Something...something...

   Something like the round handle of the brush laying on her roommate's
dresser.

   Still rubbing herself, she grabbed the brush with her other hand,
shivering with a brief flush of disgust and then warm excitement.  She fell
back onto the bed (hers was the bottom bunk) and spread her white thighs,
trembling.

   She stared down, almost as though she was looking at someone else, as
she raised the smooth plastic handle of the brush to her pussy, her dark
fur matted down with her own wetness and the pink lips spread and slick.

   She shivered again, eyes wide, as the tip of it pressed against the wet
hole between her legs.  She drew in a shuddering breath, mouth wide with
shock, as she slowly slid the brush handle into herself, the first thing to
ever slide inside her pussy.

   Then she let out a sob as she felt it hit resistance a little way in. 
It wasn't deep enough...not *nearly* deep enough.

   She sat, paralyzed, her pussy clenching and unclenching on the hard
object just a little way inside her, her toes curling in her need.  Rushes
of horror and excitement and *need* pulsed through her...she couldn't push
it in further!  She was a virgin!  But it wasn't enough!  And she was so
*horny*!  She had to have it in her!  She couldn't!  She had to...she was a
virgin...

   And then with a scream, she shoved the brush deep inside herself.  She
wasn't a virgin any longer.

   She was sobbing at the pain, aching inside her where the brush pushed
through.  But it was almost like she was a passenger in her own body - her
hand began sliding the brush in and out of her, as she watched and cried.
She spread her legs wider, as though to give the camera a better view.  She
cried as she saw blood mixing with the clear juices of her pussy, and she
knew she had taken her own virginity with a brush.

   Now she really was just a slut.

   And with a shudder, the disgust and misery and horror and pain fell
away, and she let out a sob of pleasure.

   She *was* just a slut.

   A dirty slut who was fucking herself with a brush, in front of a camera,
for all the world to see.

   Especially Paul.

   She began to grunt as she slid the brush handle in and out of herself
faster and faster, her other hand roughly grabbing her tit and pinching her
nipple, then moving to the other one, as the brush slipped wetly in and out
of her...

   Suddenly her hips thrust upward and she was screaming, sobbing,
squealing in an explosive orgasm.  She felt wetness squirting out of her,
soaking the brush and her hand and the bedsheet.  She thrashed on the bed,
pounding her makeshift dildo in and out of herself while she came, and
came, and came...

   And then collapsed, falling to the bed.

   And as her mind-blowing orgasm faded, the reality of what she'd just
done crashed down upon her.

   And, mercifully, she passed out.

   She was awakened by her alarm going off.

   Thank god...it was all a dream, she thought, blearily.

   And then a rush of sensations from her body told her quite loudly it had
been otherwise.

   With a sob, she pulled herself to a half-sitting position and looked
down at herself.  She was naked - she must have pulled herself onto the bed
at some point, without waking up, and pulled the covers partially over her.

   But her pussy *ached*, and felt...full.

   Trembling with near-nausea, she lifted the blankets away...and stared at
the hairbrush still stuck in her pussy, covered in now-dry wetness from her
pussy.

   Biting her lip as the tears came, she grabbed the brush and pulled, and
then yelled in pain as it slid out.  Her tight pussy gripped it hard, now
that she was mostly dry, and she was raw from...from...

   She began to sob loudly.

   From losing her virginity.  To a hairbrush.

   She shuddered and choked as she hauled herself out of bed.  The room
stank of her sex.

   Oh lord..Misha!

   She looked around frantically as she stood naked in the center of the
room...but it was clear her roommate had stayed at her parents' house
rather than coming home last night.  Vicky shivered again in relief.  She
couldn't imagine what she would have said to Misha if she'd found Vicky
like...like...that.

   Feeling sick and somewhat in shock, Vicky began to pick up her clothing,
and to go take a shower to get ready for class, when she realized she was
still holding the brush.  She stared at it for a few moments, and then
opened her bedside table drawer and dropped it in.

   Starting to shiver now as her former tears began to dry on her cheeks,
she dropped her clothes into the basket in her closet and pulled on her
robe with a blank, dazed expression on her face.  She pulled it closed, and
walked to the door of her dorm room, only vaguely aware of the slight ache
between her legs from her former cherry.  As she walked out into the hall,
a voice spoke from behind her.

   "Hey Vicky."

   Vicky turned around to see her roommate, Misha, standing there.  The
taller black girl was looking down at the slightly shorter Vicky with her
usual unreadable expression.  Vicky had had mixed feelings about rooming
with a black girl, and those mixed feelings in and of themselves had
horrified her - she might be from the south, but she certainly wasn't
prejudiced!  Still, she felt nervous and generally uncomforable every time
Misha was around, and guilty for feeling that way.

   Except for now.  Now, all she felt was the same hollowness she'd felt
for the last several minutes.

   "Hey, Misha," Vicky said, vaguely.

   "How was your evening?  You see Paul?"

   Her evening.  Paul.  Breaking up.

   Being horny.

   Being a slut.

   The brush.

   Her virginity...

   Suddenly, the hollowness filled again with the horror of what she'd
done, and her hand flew to her mouth.  She turned with a vague choking
sound and stumbled to the bathroom.  A few moments later, the sound of a
girl being violently ill came from behind the door.

   Misha, a shocked look on her face, stood uncertainly for a moment, then
walked into their dorm room.

   Misha looked up from her desk with a start as Vicky walked back into the
room.

   "You OK?" Misha asked.

   Vicky nodded, not looking at her roommate.  She had stood in the shower,
sobbing, for fifteen minutes after throwing up, and had brushed her teeth
forever.  But it was still taking all she had to keep from bursting into
tears again.

   Misha looked at the white girl for a moment, then looked back to her
computer.  Vicky dressed in silence, not trusting herself to speak.  She
was desperately thankful that Misha didn't seem to be in a talkative mood,
and fortunately, Vicky realized as she looked at the clock, Vicky had to
hurry if she was going to make it to her nine o'clock lecture.  She quickly
pulled on a skirt and sweater, then grabbed her bag.

   "See you later," Misha said as Vicky grabbed the doorknob.

   Vicky turned to look at her roommate.  Misha's voice had sounded
odd...but her roommate just smiled at her.  Vicky nodded, swallowing, and
rushed out of the room, hurrying to class.

   Misha waited a few moments till she was sure Vicky wasn't coming back,
then maximized the window she had quickly hidden when her roommate had come
back from her shower.  Her heart started to pound again as she stared at
the paused image...of Vicky grinning and holding her white tits up to the
camera on Misha's desk.

   Misha had also had mixed feelings on finding out that Vicky was to be
her roommate, but for very different reasons.  Misha had known she was
bisexual from a fairly early age, when she'd stayed over at her friend
Shari's house in high school and had awoken to find Shari nervously
touching her pussy.  After Shari had transitioned to licking her when Misha
hadn't protested, and had made her friend cum, hard, she'd asked Misha to
do the same for her.  Misha, terrified to disappoint the older girl, had
acquiesced, spreading her friend's dark thighs and had lowered her mouth to
Shari's wet pussy.

   She'd discovered that she loved it.

   Two nights later, Misha had discovered that she liked cock, too, when
she'd come screaming as Shari's older boyfriend Marcus fucked her from
behind while she licked Shari's pussy again.

   She'd spent the rest of high school sleeping with Marcus and Shari, even
after they'd graduated - fortunately for her they both went to local
colleges.  And she loved licking Shari's black pussy, especially with
Marcus' big cock deep in her own.  And she'd slept with a couple of other
black girls and even a couple of boys.  But truth be told, she had always
had a secret fantasy.

   She really had the hots for white chicks.

   When she'd walked into her dorm room for the first time to see Vicky
standing there, and had seen the girl who she was going to be rooming with
for the next year, she thought she'd died and gone to heaven.  And then the
pretty, sexy girl had opened her mouth and said hello with a strangled,
nervous voice, and Misha had actually felt herself getting wet at the
girl's southern accent.  Because, truth be told again, her secret fantasy
had always gone beyond just having a white girl as a lover.

   In her deepest, most intense fantasies, she had a hot, southern white
girl as her personal love slave.

   Cliched?  Maybe.  Misha didn't care when she was cumming into her
pillow, trying desperately to keep from screaming out loud and waking her
roommate below, her mind filled with all the nasty things she wanted to
make sweet, innocent Vicky do.

   Or maybe not so sweet and innocent.

   Misha shook her head in disbelief at the image she was looking at.  Not
content to just sneak furtive glances at her roommate's soft white body
when she changed (it of course had never occurred to the innocent girl that
her roommate might be paying attention to her naked body), she'd set her
webcam to record the room whenever she wasn't there, in the vain hopes of
catching her roommate just *once* doing something dirty.  Maybe sleeping
with Paul, or even playing with herself in the bed.  She knew it was
unlikely...she had wondered if Vicky had ever even actually touched
herself.

   And then she'd opened up the file when she'd come in this morning,
mostly out of habit - she deleted them pretty quickly since they took up a
lot of space...and had found this.  She'd thought she'd been caught for
sure when Vicky had come back from the shower - she'd been too enraptured
in watching the girl display herself for the camera to hear the footsteps
outside their room.  Had Vicky looked at the screen, she would have seen
her own face and tits in full color on it.

   Misha stood, trembling, and began to quickly pull off her clothes.

   The black girl was tall - about 5'8" - and plumper than she'd like to
be. But she knew her big tits made her popular with boys and girls alike.
And right now her large, dark nipples on her dangling DDs were sticking out
almost a half inch.

   She settled back into her chair, naked, and put her feet up on the edge
of the desk, legs spread wide in her favorite position.  She settled the
headphones onto her ears, then pressed play, sliding one dark hand between
her wet pink pussy lips, while the other began to pull and pinch her large
black nipples.

   She began cumming for the first time when Vicky slammed the hairbrush
into her virgin pussy, sobbing.  She was well into her third as she watched
and listened to Vicky's screaming, squirting orgasm on the bed.

   Misha couldn't have stopped her own screams of pleasure this time if
she'd tried.

   Vicky sat in the lecture, trying desperately to listen to her professor
and not to think about what she had done, but found that every few minutes
she'd burst into tears and sit there sobbing and sniffling.  She'd
carefully picked her location today - sitting way up in the back where no
one else was, hidden behind a pillar from the rest of the class.  The room
was large enough that no one was likely to notice her way up here, while
she tried to get hold of herself.

   What had come over her?  How could she have done such things?  She was
completely disgusted with herself and...

   She groaned as the door opened quietly and another student crept into
the back of the room, sitting in front of her, obviously trying to keep the
professor from noticing his tardiness.  Better to be thought absent than to
be late to this particular class - the professor was famous for making
latecomers get up in front of the room to answer questions.

   Vicki dried her eyes as the boy sat down next to her in the only other
chair hidden in the back, smiling briefly back at him as he flashed her a
quick, guilty grin.  She recognized him from the class - a thin, slightly
geeky kid who did fairly well on the tests.  She couldn't remember his
name, though.

   She bit her lip as she tried to listen to the professor again without
bursting into tears...the last thing she wanted was to have to try to come
up with a reason that she was crying.  Still, her mind drifted back to last
night, and she started to choke up.  The thought of what she had done...how
she'd acted like such a slut, and given up her precious virginity...

   She'd been so *hot*.

   A sudden wave of the same feeling she'd had the night before washed over
her and she gasped slightly.  She noticed the boy next to her look at her
out of the corner of his eye, and she felt herself blushing deeply, her
cheeks burning.

   And to her horror, that wasn't all that was getting warm.

   It felt like the room was heating up around her, her whole body starting
to tingle as the waves began to wash over her once again.  Involuntarily,
she found herself smiling and suppressed a sudden urge to giggle as the
tingle spread throughout her body, and settled once again into her
already-hard nipples and between her legs.  She began to breathe in and out
deeply, trembling as her body began to throb with each wave.

   "Ohhhh...ahhhhh...."

   She didn't realize she was making small sighs of pleasure until she
glanced at the boy next to her...and found him staring at her, eyes wide.

   Ignoring the voice in the back of her head, shrieking in horror, she
smiled languidly at him, then raised one finger to her lips to gesture for
silence.

   The boy swallowed, staring.

   Slowly, almost panting in excitement as the waves washed over her, she
slowly hiked her long, flowy skirt up over her knees, spreading her legs as
she did so.  The clear scent of her sex wafted up as the boys eyes drifted
downwards.  She slid her right foot out of her shoe, and slowly, sexily,
lifted her foot to the back of the chair in front of her, letting her skirt
fall further back to her waist, revealing her white panties.

   Her very *wet* white panties.

   A whimper escaped her as a brief chilling wave of disgust washed over
her, then she sighed again as the happiness and arousal slammed into her
again, pushing it away.

   The boy didn't seem to notice - his eyes were fixated on the growing wet
stain between her thighs.

   She reached down with one hand and slid it under the side of her
panties, eliciting a quiet whimper from the boy.  Then she slowly pulled
the panties to one side, revealing her wet, pink pussy in its brown fur.

   She shivered in pleasure as cool air blew over it.

   The boy was nearly gasping as he stared at her pussy, blinking in
obvious disbelief.  Another wave of excitement washed over her and she
leaned forward to breathe a whisper into his ear.

   "Touch me..." she sighed.

   The boy looked up at her in panic, clearly overwhelmed.  She smiled a
too-wide smile at him, her eyes shining and wild.

   "*Please*..." she moaned breathily.

   She watched as he swallowed, and then lifted one shaking hand over the
armrest between them.  He looked up to make sure they were still hidden
from the rest of the students at the front of the lecture hall, and then
looked back down to the glistening treasure between her legs.  With a
small, pained sound, he lowered his fingers and gently touched the lips of
her pussy.

   Vicky tried desperately to keep from making noise, but at the first
touch from someone other than herself or her doctor on her so incredibly
aroused cunt, a small whimper of pleasure escaped.  The boy jerked in
terror at the sound but she grabbed his hand and forced it back down,
leaning over and burying her face in his flannel shirt.

   She laid her hand over his larger trembling fingers and pushed it down
onto her pussy.  She felt a stranger's fingers slide between the wet lips
of her cunt, and whimpered again, though she really wanted to moan loudly
in pleasure.  She guided his shaking hand, biting down onto his flannel to
keep from screaming out as she guided his finger to the wet hole of her
pussy.

   Then with a small moan of his own, he slid one large, rough finger into
her tight pussy.

   She let out a short squeak, thankfully muffled by his shirt as she bit
down and began to shake violently in orgasm.  Again he tried to pull his
hand away obviously terrified by her shuddering and gasping against him,
but she grabbed his hand and held it against her in a vice grip...letting
it slip out a bit and then forcing it back into he again.  It took all her
control to keep from screaming, as she came while his finger slid in and
out of her.  She bucked against his hand, her mind exploding in pleasure.

   As she started to build to a second orgasm, she slipped her hand under
his arm and down onto his pants.  He whimpered in surprise, and then
groaned quietly as her fingers slipped over the surprisingly large bulge at
his crotch.  Humping his hand frantically now, she began to rub his cock
through his jeans.

   After just a few moments, he let out a strangled groan as she began to
cum again, letting out a series of sharp grunts as she came even harder
than before.  She felt something warm and wet splash against her thigh, and
she realized somewhere in the haze of bliss and lust that she must be
squirting again.  Then she felt warmth and wetness through her new friend's
jeans as well as he began to gasp, and she smiled, shivering with pleasure
at getting him off as her orgasm slowly faded to the pleasure of his finger
inside her...

   And then she was suddenly overwhelmed with horror and disgust at what
she was doing.

   With choked sob she jumped up (shivering with very involuntary pleasure
as his finger slipped out of her.  She stared down at the very confused
student next to her in abject horror.  His finger and wrist glistened with
her wetness, and he was blushing furiously as a wet stain spread across the
crotch of his jeans.

   Biting her lip to keep from screaming, in horror this time, she grabbed
her backpack and stumbled from the room as the first of many loud wracking
sobs welled up through her body.

   The boy sat, frozen in confusion and disbelief, then lifted his own
backpack and settled it onto his lap.  He waited until all the other
students had been gone for several minutes before daring to get up and go
find some clean clothes.
   That was definitely the best class he'd been to all semester.