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From: Rachael Ross <rache_696@yahoo.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Sorority Girl ch4 by Rachael Ross (F/M, Romance, Anal, SciFi, Fantasy)
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Date: Mon, 09 Oct 2006 02:10:02 -0400
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<1st attachment, "sorority_girl_4.txt" begin>

Sorority Girl Copyright 2006 Rachael Ross all rights reserved Story Codes:
M/F, Romance, Anal, SciFi, Fantasy
Note: Okay, I finished this, thank goodness!  -rr

   Sorority Girl By rache

   Chapter 4

   If something is important enough for a plan, it's important enough for a
backup plan.  I learned that from watching reruns of the A-Team when I was
a kid.  Getting back together with my boyfriend William was very important
to me.  So I had a plan, Plan A, which was to go to the library and have a
talk with him.  I knew he'd be working, and his answering machine wouldn't
be able to stop me.  Nor would his roommate, Donald.  It would just be me
and William and he'd have to listen to me as I explained everything,
calmly, coolly, and carefully.

   Plan B was almost exactly like Plan A, except it was the backup plan, so
it happened on Tuesday.  It was basically the same as Plan A actually,
except there was a lot more begging involved on my part.  If William
wouldn't listen to reason and admit that he still loved me, well, maybe I
could sway his heart with pity.  Or that was the theory anyway.

   I went to my first class Monday morning, but all I could do was fidget
and stare at the clock.  I was so anxious waiting for the day to pass so I
could see William that I just couldn't sit still, and I knew some of the
other students, and maybe even the professor, thought I'd been jerking off
probably.  But I hadn't, sex was a long ways out of my head right that
moment, which was a rare thing for me, granted, but true none-the-less.  I
was dry as a bone.

   After that experience I just gave up on my classes for the rest of the
day, deciding I needed better distractions than sitting in a classroom
listening to some old guy telling me how the world was supposed to work.  I
needed something to take my mind off what was coming, and failing that, I
thought I could at least do something positive about it.

   I headed off campus to find some flowers.  I'd thought about the poetry
thing, but that seemed kind of iffy.  I knew what sort of flowers William
liked, he was aguy - he liked roses, but his taste in poetry?  Who knows
what other people like.  Plus he knew a whole lot more about that stuff
than I ever would, so I didn't want to run the risk of picking out
something really cheesy.  But flowers, a dozen roses, that's what the
situation called for in my expert opinion.  I just hoped I had enough
money. I didn't know exactly how much roses cost, but they probably weren't
cheap or they wouldn't mean as much, right?

   I grabbed all the cash I had, about $238.47 and walked off campus,
heading towards the shops and stores that constituted the local chamber of
commerce.  Mostly they were geared towards the college crowd, music stores,
vintage clothing, little head shops selling clove cigarettes and the
occasional water bong, just in case you liked your 'tobacco' real mellow.
And of course there was a florist, several of them in fact, because there
were always girls like me who needed to get back together with guys like
William.

   "Hmmm..." I was standing in front of a big glass refrigerator,
scratching my head, because that's the universal signal for a woman in
distress.  The guy working the flower shop knew it well and he was at my
side a moment later.

   "Can I help you find something?" He asked.

   "Yeah, um, I need some roses.  What do the colors mean?" I was looking
at a rainbow of roses, white, black, blue, green, yellow, even red,
although I wasn't sure why anyone would want red roses.  Maybe for a
funeral or something.

   "Um, well, the white ones are mostly for romance..." He made it sound
like a question.  "...since they're you know...white?" He giggled and I
wondered why he wasn't in school.  He looked twelve.

   "Like the virgin thing." I nodded, looking at him just to see if he'd
blush, but he didn't.  He just ignored me.

   "Um, blue is like for sick people?  Or uh, if you have a baby and it's a
girl, you give your husband blue roses."

   "And pink ones for a boy.  Okay." That was obvious.

   "Right." He smiled.  "You um, you didn't have a baby, did you?"

   "No." I gave him a little laugh and then a look up and down.  "Not yet,
why?"

   "What?" He did blush then.  "Uhhh...oh!  Black ones are for apologies
and stuff like that, and..."

   "Apologies?  So like if I wanted to apologize to my boyfriend for
something I'd get black ones?"

   "Yeah." He nodded, brushing his brown hair back as it fell into his
eyes. "Or white ones, or both sometimes.  Lots of people like that."

   "Black, huh." I pondered that.  "Why black?"

   "I don't know." He shrugged.

   "It's the shadow of guilt." A familiar voice said and I turned around
and almost didn't recognize the young man standing there.  "The renaissance
painters used to darken their subjects, or place them in shadow if they
were guilty.  Like Judy Iscariot in the painting of the Last Supper."

   "Wow, cool." The boy next to me smiled.  "I didn't know that."

   "If the person you give one to accepts it, he's supposed to pull the
petals off, tossing them into the wind as a symbol of forgiveness." The man
explained.  "A lost custom, I'm afraid."

   "Valentine?" I licked my lips.  He was dressed differently, of course,
wearing a yellow sundress that seemed practically sheer as the morning sun
streamed though it.  His blonde hair was still a perfect French curl
though, and his eyes still wonderfully blue and smiling into mine.

   "I thought it was you." He nodded with a cheerful smile, holding his
purse in front of him with both hands.  "Hi Jennifer."

   "I'm...I was just uh, I'm buying flowers." I said, feeling utterly
helpless.

   "But not for me." He laughed lightly.

   "For my boyfriend, William." I nodded, not really sure what sort of
ground I was treading on.

   "Ah." He nodded.  "Good, we like flowers." Valentine reached out and
gave my hand a little squeeze, surprising me.

   "I'm just trying to figure out which ones." I shrugged.  "Um, you
wouldn't happen to..."

   "You want advice from me?" Valentine giggled.

   "Well..." I grinned.  "Yeah." He was just about the most sophisticated
seeming person I'd ever met, really.  Like he didn't belong in this little
town at all.

   "Hmmm..." Valentine pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes a little,
looking at the flowers.  "...roses for your boyfriend, right?"

   "Uh-huh." I agreed.

   "White would be best." He said.

   "White." I nodded.

   "But if it were me?" Valentine turned his beautiful face to look at me.
"I'd want the red ones."

   "Red?" The salesboy sounded shocked.

   "Why red?" I asked him.

   "Because red is the color of passion." Valentine smiled.  "They're for
secret loves, not wives or girlfriends."

   "I thought they were for funerals." I admitted, feeling foolish.

   "Yellow is for funerals." The boy next to me shrugged.  "Red is for
gallants."

   "Give her a dozen white ones, with baby's breath..." Valentine looked at
me, "...a dozen?"

   "Uh, yeah." I nodded.

   "They're 8.50 each." The boy said, "108.12 including tax."

   "Let me have one red one too." I said, making up my mind on the spur of
the moment.  "Uh, separately."

   "For me?" Valentine smiled.  "You'll spoil me." He laughed, clutching my
arm briefly, and I seriously doubted I could ever spoil him.

   "Do you want to have lunch with me?" Valentine asked as we waited for
the flower kid to do his job.

   "Lunch?" I blinked at him.  "I don't want to, um...you know...ah..."

   "It's okay." Valentine giggled.  "I'm not working right now.  Just
lunch, I promise."

   "Uh, sure." I nodded, and I suppose part of me was disappointed that
he'd meant it so literally, but I was glad Valentine hadn't tried to talk
me out of another 50 dollars too.  I seriously doubt I could have said no
more than once.

   =--=-=-=--

   "So, now you have to tell me what happened." Valentine asked.  We were
seated in an outdoor restaurant, Trattoria Manzo, an Italian restaurant
with red and white canopies over the tables.

   "About what?" I asked innocently.

   "About why you have to buy a dozen roses for your boyfriend." He smiled.
"It couldn't have been me, so...?"

   "Oh, no, it's nothing." I shook my head.

   "Maybe I can help." Valentine leaned across the table gripping my hand.
"I know an awful lot about boys, believe me."

   He had a point there, but I wasn't sure talking to him about my
boyfriend was necessarily a good idea.  I did have some feelings for
Valentine, although I wasn't comfortable with them and I did my best to
hide them away.  I remembered telling the man I loved him, and that was
enough to redden my cheeks noticeably.  Falling in love with a prostitute
had to be some sort of cliché, didn't it?  But Valentine had shrugged it
off so easily, and not without some small amount of grace.  Perhaps I
wasn't the first customer who'd told him that and the thought made me
vaguely jealous.

   "Uh-hmmm..." I cleared my throat, looking down at his small hand holding
mine.  "He loves me, but he's graduating this year and uh, well he thinks
we're too close." I shrugged.  "That we'll get too close and when he has to
leave, um, when he has to leave me, it'll be too hard later."

   "So he broke up with you?" Valentine asked.

   "Yeah, he broke up with me." I nodded.  "And he won't even talk to me
about it." Which I suppose was what really bothered me most of all.

   "Too close..." Valentine looked at me.  "...You mean sexually?"

   "I don't know." I sighed.  "He's a virgin so, yeah, maybe." I paused for
a second.  "But I wouldn't ever do anything, force him or anything."

   "I know." Valentine gave me a supportive smile.

   We stopped talking while the waiter took our order.  Valentine wanted to
order for me, since all I knew of Italian food was spaghetti, lasagna, and
pizza, and I'd heard once that pizza wasn't even really Italian, so maybe I
knew even less than I thought I did.

   "Hey, that stuff with the roses and the paintings, how do you know so
much about that?" I asked, trying one of the warm breadsticks that the
waiter had left behind.

   "I'm an artist." Valentine said.  "I used to work on canvas, oils
mostly, but now I like to sculpt."

   "Porcelain?" I guessed and he rewarded me with his brilliant smile.  "I
saw the dolls and the figurines."

   "Yeah, I did those." He nodded.  "I want to go to Italy, to Florence,
there's a famous school there, specializing in sculpture and porcelain."

   "So you should be an art major," I suggested, "not a...what was it?  A
psych major."

   "Ah, well, I lied." Valentine laughed.  "I was a psych major once, but I
dropped out.  I wanted to make money and chase the dream..."

   "Rather than spend money and end up chasing the clock, right?"

   "Exactly." He shrugged.  "I make good money, working..." he gave me a
little smile, dropping his eyes modestly, "...and I save quite a bit, no
real expenses except my apartment."

   "So when are you going to Italy?" I asked, not teasing him at all.

   "Next year." Valentine's blue eyes were shining with intent.  "I've sent
samples of my work, arranged letters of introduction through a gallery in
San Francesca."

   "A gallery." I nodded wishing I was smart enough to really appreciate
what Valentine was explaining to me.

   "Yeah, I show my work there, once in awhile they sell something, and
that's always nice." She shrugged.  "But it hasn't made me rich."

   "It's a start, right?" I smiled at him.

   "It's a start." Valentine agreed.

   We ate our meal, smiling and talking and becoming intimate I think,
without realizing it.  We talked about our families and friends and growing
up and plans for the future.  Valentine was charming and beautiful all the
while and he somehow seemed to bring out the best in me, or so it seemed. I
couldn't remember feeling so comfortable with a boy, not even William until
I'd known him several months at least.  I couldn't imagine it was simply
because Valentine was a prostitute and must have had more than a fair share
of people skills, it was something else, something deeper, and it confused
me.

   "Do you want to come up to my apartment?" Valentine was leaning close.

   We'd finished our meal and sat there, sipping wine and smiling and
paused in our conversation.  Not one of those awkward pauses, but one of
the good sort, the gentle, natural pauses in which we seldom indulge for
lack of confidence.

   "I thought you weren't working." I said, and immediately regretted it,
but Valentine just giggled and I felt his bare foot rubbing my leg under
the table.

   "I'm not." He licked his passion red lips.

   I stared at him for a long moment, thinking about William, or trying to
at least.  There was little doubt that I loved William, but my emotions
were awash with desire for Valentine.  He was too perfect, just sitting
there.  I hadn't looked for flaws, but how hard were they to find in
another person, really?  Usually not very and we would overlook them, or
make our own silent excuses and forgive them, but Valentine.  There was
nothing about the man I could find disagreeable to my nature, even knowing
that he had sex for money couldn't stain my image of him.

   "Yes." I let out the breath I was holding.  "I want to come up to your
apartment very much."

   I insisted on paying for the meal, which had been exquisite, although
that had more to do with Valentine's company than anything else.  I
wouldn't remember what I'd eaten a year from now, but I'd remember his
eyes, his smile and laugh.  I'd remember him forever.

   While we waited for the waiter to return, Valentine opened the small
clear plastic box his single red rose had been packaged in, tied shut with
a thin red ribbon.

   "No one has ever given me a rose before." He smiled at me, holding up
with his fingers just beneath the half opened bud and the remainder of the
long stem curving down.

   "I don't believe you." I laughed.

   "Not a single rose, not once." He assured me.

   "I should have bought you a dozen." I said.

   "No, I've had a dozen." He smiled at the flower and his voice was soft.
"This is better.  It means more to me than a dozen roses ever would." His
eyes lifted, looking into mine through a veil of golden hair.  "Thank you."

   "Your welcome." I said, feeling self-conscious for some reason, but
every time he looked at me like that I felt...not inadequate, not that,
Valentine gave me confidence.  I felt as though I wanted to be a better
person; to be the person that he was seeing when he looked at me.

   "I'm going to carry it like this." He giggled.  "And hold your hand and
everyone will know I'm your gallant.  Not your husband.  Not your
boyfriend, but your lover."

   "Are you?" I couldn't help but ask, for fear that he was teasing me.

   "Today I am." Valentine smiled and for the first time perhaps I saw
something shy behind his eyes.  "Tomorrow you will tell me."

   The waiter returned and we left, with Valentine as good as his word,
carrying the rose close to his chest and holding me close, so I had my arm
around his waist, as we walked the few blocks to his apartment.  A gallant,
pronounced in the French tradition, was a role much like that of a
mistress, although there were rather more of the former than the latter, of
course.  And doubtless Valentine was playing with me, since a woman would
be expected to provide for her gallant and I had barely the means to buy us
lunch.  But it was a very fine illusion and I enjoyed the man's attentions
very much, even if I didn't understand why they should be mine.

   "Why me?" I asked, standing close to Valentine in his apartment, holding
him in my arms much as I had on my previous visit.  "What did I do to
deserve this?  To deserve...you?"

   "Because you have to ask." Valentine sighed into my ear.  "You're so
sweet..."

   He kissed me, pressing his lips to mine and I groaned into his mouth,
pulling him hard against me so that I could feel my hard nipples against
his chest through the t-shirt I wore.  Valentine's tongue was wet, moving
slowly around mine, and he had his hands low on my back, to my ass so that
our hips pressed together.  I felt his hard cock, barely contained beneath
the thin cotton of his dress, grinding against my crotch.

   Morning had changed to early afternoon by this time and sunlight
streamed through the large windows behind the brass bed, filtered by
scarlet curtains to give the room a warm passionate glow.  All around us
were the porcelain dolls and figures Valentine had crafted with his own
delicate fingers.  Soft music played and all I could feel and taste and
smell was the man in my arms.

   When Valentine began undressing me, I didn't resist.  I moved as he
desired, allowing his hands to roam where they would, lifting my shirt over
my head so that we broke our kiss briefly, both of us smiling and flushed
and panting for air.  He tossed my shirt carelessly, returning us to kiss
again as his hand found my breasts, caressing my body and making me shiver
momentarily.  My nipple was swollen and stiff beneath Valentine's thumb and
I felt his other hand lower, working blindly at my pants.

   "I want to suck you." Valentine breathed, undoing the zipper of my
trousers and slipping his hand inside to feel the moist warmth of my sex.

   "God yes..." I hissed between my teeth, guiding the man down to kneel in
front of me with a wonderful sense of déjà vu.  He undressed me, just as he
had the night I'd been with him, taking his time and making a sensual
ceremony of the simplest acts imaginable.

   The air felt cool on my skin, but Valentine's breath was warm and he
kissed my thighs, his hands moving up and down on my calves, stroking the
short dark hair curling from my skin.  He teased me with his mouth, kissing
around my sex, at the tops of my leg, across the swell of my pubis, and
around to the other side.

   "Like this..." Valentine was whispering, turning me with his soft hands
on my hips, until I was turned completely and he was kneeling behind me.

   Goosebumps broke out across my skin as he kissed the back of my thighs
and finally my ass, dragging his teeth across the round swell of my cheeks.
Valentine bit me, kissed and sucked at my skin, his hands in constant
motion and finally spreading my ass so his mouth could delve into the soft
warmth hidden there.  I'd never had a rim job in my life and Valentine
pressed his hand to the small of my back, reaching higher and urging me
silently to bend over, thrusting back with my hips to present the man my
most private places.

   "Ahhmmm..." I sighed deeply, and then gave a gasp as Valentine's tongue
brushed across the tight pucker of my anus.

   I was literally shaking with unexpected pleasure, having never guessed
such a thing could feel so good.  Valentine was working his wet tongue hard
against my ass, urging me to open for him, just enough so the tip could
penetrate my virgin hole.  I found myself reaching back, groaning with
pleasure as my fingers dug into his silky blonde hair, pulling him hard
against my ass, begging the man to eagerly tongue my asshole.  It was dirty
and nasty and oh so sexy like that, I was close to cumming already and he
hadn't even come close to touching my throbbing clit as yet.

   When I felt Valentine's finger replacing his tongue I arched my back,
sucking a deep breath into my aching lungs.  Anal sex was something most
women seemed to want, but most men were reluctant to try, at least the
so-called 'nice guys' and it was hard to remember that Valentine was a
prostitute and had probably tried things I couldn't even imagine.  He was
turning his finger slowly, withdrawing it every few seconds so that he
could lick around his penetration, adding his spit to ease his finger ever
deeper until I felt the soft muscles inside my ass yielding, letting him
get his finger as deep as possible.

   It was impossible to avoid touching myself, reaching down with my right
hand to rub my burning clit.  Juices were already leaking between my
swollen labia, the wetness clinging to my skin, cooling the insides of my
thighs.  My body shuddered as I jerked myself hard, my fingers moving
across my clit in a blur.  I was breathing hard, moving my hips, and
fucking my ass on Valentine's fingers.  I was going to cum, I was close and
my heart was pounding in my chest.

   "Cum on my face..." Valentine breathed, contorting himself to keep his
finger buried in my ass and turning his body, sitting on the floor between
my widely spread legs.  He was looking up at me, so beautiful with his face
shiny with spit from eating my ass.  He had his mouth open, his pink tongue
extended just below my burning cunt.  I groaned, staring down at him and he
stabbed his finger hard into my ass just as my orgasm peaked, filling me
with perverse pleasure as I felt my cunt spasm wildly, spraying my cum
across Valentine's upturned face.

   "Oh Christ..." I was felt dizzy, my knees weakening and I could do was
stroke my clit, watching as all my fertile girl juice streamed out of my
pussy like piss, pooling inside Valentine's mouth and running across his
cheeks, down his chin and neck.  It was in his hair and nose and he had to
close his eyes against the sudden flood.

   Valentine swallowed my cum and quickly brought his mouth to my cunt,
open as if French kissing me, pushing in with his stiff tongue to feel the
hard muscular ring of my hymen, clenched tightly inside me.  My cunt
muscles were spasming, contracting instinctively around a non-existent
cock. It was a curious and almost disappointing sensation but I couldn't
complain.  I was nearly senseless with pleasure, my orgasm subsiding
slowly, replaced with the endless minigasms which would last for a good
long time to come.

   "Down...down here..." I was dimly aware of Valentine's voice as he
pulled me down, withdrawing his finger as he positioned me on my hands and
knees.  He was still dressed and I stared with lust filled eyes as he
simply lifted his dress, kneeling behind me and letting his skirt cover my
back like a thin blanket.

   He freed his penis, perhaps wearing a thong, like the g-string he'd worn
the other night.  I could feel it, Valentine's cock, hard and huge seeming
as he rubbed the head across my cunt, not that he could fuck me there, my
hymen was much too tight for that now, but he gathered the wetness still
spilling from my slit.  He lubricated his cock generously with my girlish
fluids and I watched him over my shoulder, his face wet and shining with my
cum, and I willed my body to relax as I knew he was going to push his
thickness into my tender virgin ass.

   "Fuck me...fuck my ass..." I panted for him, shaking uncontrollably with
excitement.  I never dreamt I'd take a man up my ass, or at least never
really believed it would ever happen, but now Valentine was pressing the
smooth head of his lubricated cock to my little hole.  It was wet with his
precum and my own orgasm and I moaned loudly, clenching my teeth as I felt
it finally, stretching my ass painfully at first, like a cramp and then
sharper, like a blunt knife stabbing into my body.

   "You're so tight...so good..." Valentine's voice was filled with the
pleasure of my ass being stretched around him.  He would push himself
inside me a little deeper with each stroke, taking me slowly, giving me
time to accept his cock, my muscles surrendering only reluctantly.  It was
a mix of intense pleasure and surprising pain, like a sharp burning
sensation that might have been unpleasant any other time, but right then it
was perfect.  I found myself pushing back, rocking my body against
Valentine's thrusts as he held my hips.  We were soon fucking hard, his
long thick cock moving back and forth in my ass easily, making love to me
even as my cunt burned empty.

   Valentine took a long time to cum, surprising me as I imagined he must
have been as close as I'd been, but he wasn't.  He had amazing powers of
self control and I as he began slamming my ass hard I was reminded of how
he'd been able to fuck my spasming cunt for so long the first time we'd had
sex.  It was incredible the sensations produced inside my body, he was
smaller than me, being a man, weaker and soft, but it didn't seem that way.
He was pushing me lower, lifting himself to change the angle, so that he
was pushing his cock down, spearing inside me until his heavy balls slapped
against my sweltering sex.

   "Uhhh...I'm going to...cum..." He groaned softly, sucking a deep breath
as he drove his cock as far inside my tender asshole as he could.  I could
feel him seeming to swell even more, his cock suddenly pulsing inside me,
spurting rapidly and filling the depths of my ass with his hot sperm.  I
was sore and hot back there, but still I tried to find those muscles, to
squeeze his penis, wanting to milk him with my ass the way my pussy would.

   "Did you like that?" Valentine was smiling, breathing hard as he lowered
his chest to my back, keeping his cock inside me as he kissed my neck and
cheeks and finally my mouth when I turned my face to him.

   "God yes..." I panted, "...I loved it..." We kissed like that until
Valentine's cock softened just enough for my ass to force him out.  I was
stretched inside and it felt funny, loose and greasy as I moved, feeling
Valentine's sperm squishing around as my muscles tried to find their
natural form.

   My little orgasms were ending finally, slowing and fading quietly, and
my hymen was shrinking, the ring-like muscle shrinking back and opening my
cunt as I was finally able to relax after almost a half hour of constant
stimulation.  Valentine stood up, holding out his hand and helping me up to
stand on shaky legs.  It had been a wild experience for me and I still felt
a little dazed by it all.

   "Can you unbutton me?" He asked, smiling over his shoulder as he turned
around and I nodded.

   "I think I need a shower." I grinned, undoing the buttons along
Valentine's spine.  I felt damp and sticky with sweat and the juices from
my cunt, not to mention the small bit of sperm starting to slip out of my
well fucked ass.

   "I have one of those." Valentine slipped his dress over his shoulders,
letting slide down his smooth flushed body.  "It's big enough for two." He
smiled.

   "You weren't wearing any underwear?" I almost gasped at the realization
as he led me to the bathroom.

   "Not today." He giggled.  "You could have really embarrassed me at
lunch."

   "Oh God." I laughed.

   I wiped at my anus with a bit of tissue while Valentine turned on the
shower and I glanced at it, surprised to see some pinkish blood mixed with
the man's sperm.

   "I'm bleeding." I said, still looking at the tissue.

   "It was your first time." He offered me an apologetic smile.  "I tried
to be gentle for you."

   "I know, it's okay.  I guess I'm not a virgin anymore." I laughed,
shaking my head at the thought and tossing the tissue into the toilet.  I
wondered what it would be like to feel that sort of pain the first time I'd
had vaginal sex and I couldn't.  My cunt was made more fucking and the
first time had felt wonderful, only boys had to suffer that initial
discomfort and sacrifice a bit of blood in the name of love.  At least now
I had some small idea of what that must be like, but of course I was sure
it had to be very different for them as well.

   I felt no guilt leaving Valentine's apartment, except maybe for the mess
we'd made.  He must spend all of his free time cleaning, I thought, getting
girl stains out of the carpet and bed sheets.  I know I'd made a mess of it
on my two visits.  He'd given me his phone number and a promised lunch date
with him the following day.  His nights were spent working, Valentine had
said, but he would be mine during the day.  I tried not to think about what
he was doing on those evenings, because it did make me jealous.  But girls
were supposed to be jealous and possessive, it was in our blood.  Boys were
less inclined, able to understand better the varied needs of our bodies.

   Women could have sex anytime, for as long as they wanted really, every
day of the week and twice on Sundays.  Our bodies were made for it, but
men, they could only make so much sperm, and only so fast, and they needed
time to recover.  When a man had been drained completely he might not even
be able to get an erection for a day or two, or even longer as he grew
older, while his wife or girlfriend was ever anxious and ready for more. 
So it only made sense that a woman should have more than one lover and very
few boys would disagree, although most couples found themselves happily
monogamous after marriage.  But even then it wasn't unreasonable for a
woman to enjoy the occasional flirtation with a man not her husband.

   But these thoughts were fleeting as I made my way towards the library.
I'd spent all afternoon with Valentine.  We'd made love in the shower, but
as much as I'd wanted him to, he wouldn't cum inside me.  He couldn't
afford even the smallest chance of getting pregnant.  He'd withdrawn just
before my second orgasm of the day and used his mouth to give me pleasure
beneath the hot spray of water.  I wanted him to cum as well, but he'd had
to save himself for work, which was another small disappointment for me,
but one I could live with.  It occurred to me that men weren't really
suited to be prostitutes, but who else would do it?  There were a lot of
women who were willing to pay for sex and I guess that was why Valentine
was so good with his hands and mouth.  His suckjobs were as good as regular
sex...maybe even better.  Almost.

   What I was really thinking about though, as I walked somewhat stiffly
with my sore ass a constant reminder of Valentine, was William and what I
was going to say to him.  I carried the long box with his roses under my
arm, feeling a little strange as it was obvious what I was carrying, I
suppose.  But I was a girl with a boyfriend, my roses announced, and one I
cared a great deal about.  So it put some small sense of pride into my
step, as well as all the confidence in the world, thanks to Valentine who
had done nothing but compliment me and thank me for fucking him the way I
had.  I'd smiled, of course, but I had more than a small suspicion that he
had been the one fucking me.

   But Valentine liked my innocence, I think.  I was good looking, I knew
that, but I didn't exactly possess the most dynamic personality in the
world either.  He liked being my teacher.  I pushed that thought out of my
mind though, needing to be dynamic and aggressive, and confident as I
approached the library.  I couldn't imagine not persuading William to take
me back.  I hadn't really done anything wrong and if he loved me as I
thought I loved him, we owed ourselves a chance to talk about the
possibilities we might have together.  He had to give me that much at
least.

   "Hi." I smiled at William, who was there behind the big front desk, just
the same as always.  Except this time he didn't smile back.

   "Jen." He sighed, tilting his head slightly.  "You shouldn't have come
here, I told you..."

   "I love you." I said, not bothering to lower my voice at all and I
didn't even look around to see if anyone was looking at us.

   William didn't look around either, but his cheeks colored pleasantly.

   "I brought you something." I put the box on the desk.  "Flowers." I
tapped them with my finger lightly, as if making sure they really were.

   "Jen, I just don't want to be hurt." He whispered.  "I don't want to
hurt you."

   "Just..." I held up my hand.  "Just listen to me, okay?" I looked at him
and he nodded and then I did look around, and there were about a dozen
people pretending not to watch us.  "Come on..."

   I led William past rows of books to the farthest, dimmest aisle I could
find.  The place where nobody ever went and I glanced at the shelves
because I'd never been there before either.  It was floor to ceiling with
old encyclopedias from before I was even born, the covers faded and torn
and the glue in the bindings yellow and dry like dandruff on the shelves.

   "Don't they throw these things away?" I asked, almost forgetting why I
was there.  But then I caught myself, looking at William as he stood there
in a dark dress, with a full length skirt and white lace around the cuffs
and collar.  He looked like a librarian and that dress belonged on a man
twice his age at least.  He was trying to be unattractive I thought, but it
didn't work.  His face was still lovely and his eyes still the prettiest
shade of green I'd ever dreamt of.

   "William." I took a breath.  "I know why you want to break up with me.
You're afraid I don't love you, that I'll ask you to do something that you
don't want to do.  You think that once you graduate you'll never see me
again and maybe...well, maybe I'll want to make love to you before you
leave."

   I waited to see if he'd say something, if he'd disagree with me, but he
just stood there, looking down at a place just below my eyes, at my mouth
maybe.  He was playing with his fingers and biting his lower lip.  I wanted
to take him in my arms so badly, he was the man I loved, the one I wanted
to care for.  I needed him to need me, as much as I needed him.  These
feelings were so much different from the ones I had for Valentine.  He'd
never need me for anything, and it even seemed our roles were reversed
somehow.  But William, he was a man I could hold and protect and have
children with someday.

   "You're afraid if I ask you, if I push you to make love, you'll do it."
I did reach out then, holding the boy by his shoulders, pulling him closer,
and wishing he'd look up at me, but he merely turned his head further down.

   "I love you, William.  I...I don't have a ring or anything, but..." I
knelt down, on the cold hard tile in the musty row of useless books.  "Will
you marry me, William?"

   I was holding his hands and looking up, trying to see his eyes in the
shadow of his beautiful face.  I stayed like that, holding my breath,
waiting for his answer and praying that it would be the one that I wanted
to hear.

   "Yes." I heard his voice softly answer and I was afraid for a second
that I'd imagined it.  "Yes, Jen, I'll marry you." I felt his fingers
squeeze mine and I saw just the barest smile on his face as he nodded.

   I felt the air rush out of me suddenly, like I'd been keeping myself
upright with it, and as I let it go I almost fell over, but I didn't.  I
smiled and stood up quickly, taking William in my arms and kissing his
cheeks, finding them wet with tears.  I kissed his eyes and then finally
his lips, enveloping the boy in my arms.

   "I don't ever want to lose you again." I whispered.  "I love you so
much...I love you..."

   "I love you too." He was crying, but they were tears of joy, even relief
perhaps.  We kissed long and hard, everything else forgotten until I felt
the swell of William's penis beneath his skirt, rubbing my thigh as he
sucked my tongue.

   "I want you to be a virgin on our wedding night, okay?" I whispered into
his ear.

   "Oh, God yes..." William sighed, kissing me again, as if he couldn't get
enough of me suddenly.  And perhaps we were both famished for each other as
I never wanted to let him go right then.

   "My parents want to meet you." I started telling him, thinking of all
the things that were suddenly changed.  We were getting married!  I felt
crazy inside, like I was doing cartwheels on a merry-go-round, or
something.

   "They do?" William looked at me, his eyes wide and I nodded.  "What if
they don't like me?" He asked.

   "I want to meet yours too." I laughed.  "Maybe your mom won't like me."

   "She will." William giggled.  "I'll make her like you!"

   "We can go over Christmas, my parents will pay for it, a few days at my
house, a few days at yours..."

   "A few days by ourselves." William smiled impishly, bringing her hand to
my breasts, giving me a playful squeeze.

   "When do you want to get married?" I asked him.

   "A spring wedding." William smiled, his eyes shining into mine.  "Ummm,
after Alde rises again, in May."

   "Okay." I kissed him.  "God, I love you."

   "I'm so sorry." William kissed me back.  "I wasn't thinking.  You kept
talking about the sorority and the initiation and I thought for sure you
were going to join and make me do..." He lifted a hand helplessly,
"...something." He looked up at me, licking his lips.  "You can have my
virginity whenever you want it, Jen."

   "On our wedding night." I told him sincerely.  "That's when I want it. I
want us to get pregnant, okay?"

   "Really?" He smiled nodding and hugging me and I could feel his cock as
it must have been aching painfully in his panties.  "It's gonna be hard to
wait." He giggled in my ear.

   "I can tell." I laughed, reaching down to hold his tight round ass in my
hands.  "Umm, the sorority thing...I need you to come with me Wednesday." I
felt William's body stiffen slightly in my arms.  "To the initiation."

   "But I thought..."

   "It's okay, you'll still be a virgin afterwards, I promise.  No one will
hurt you, I swear." I said, staring into his eyes.  "You have to trust me,
okay?"

   "How do you know, I mean..."

   "Because my dad told me." I smiled at him.  "He was the virgin at my
mom's initiation."

   "Oh." William seemed to think about that.

   "Trust me, okay?  Please?"

   "Okay." William licked his lips and nodded.  "I trust you."

   And then we kissed again.

   The end rache696@yahoo.com

   Note: I decided to end this here as the story was getting long and the
resolution was always William trusting Jen.  I never planned on saying what
happened at the initiation, that was always going to be a mystery, since no
one in the sorority is allowed to discuss it with anyone who isn't a
member. If you are a member, then you already know, so...
Anyway, Valentine obviously came out of this as the character I most
like and most wanted to write about, and so it seems entirely possible I
may write about her sometime soon, errrr...him.  God, it's still confusing!
A girl with a cock, how much fun is that?  Pretty fun, unless you have to

proof the pronouns.

   Thanks for reading.  rache
   http://www1.asstr.org/~rache/index.htm

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