Billie squeezed toothpaste on her brush. “What’s the ’Wow!’ for?”
“A liberal education in sex, I guess.”
“Sex at this time of the morning? Please, Ginny.”
“I know, but… wow! That kid must have wanted to be fucked awfully bad. One of those guys grabbed her and stuck his cock in her mouth while two of the other guys fucked her at the same time in the cunt and the asshole!”
“And you watched all that?” Billie said.
“Sure… shit, I came three times on my fingers just watching it, and wishing all the time it was me!”
Billie felt a twinge between her own legs at the girl’s words. “Ginny… let me ask you something…”
“What?” the girl replied, turning on the water.
“Haven’t you ever been laid? I mean, are you…?”
Billie never finished her question. The other girl’s face got very red and she jumped into the shower.
My God, Billie thought, she is a virgin!
Dr. Dwight Morris was the school psychologist. That afternoon Billie received a summons to come to his office.
“It would seem to me,” Dr. Morris said, “that your problem is not sex so much as your father.”
Billie hadn’t said a word. She sat there, hating her father, because he had forwarded all this information to the psychologist.
But the comment interested her. “Why do you say that?”
Dr. Morris was a handsome man. Billie took him to be in his fifties, but he showed little sign of age except for a distinguished patch of gray at each temple. He had a neatly clipped mustache and his suit obviously was hand-tailored.
“Why? Because he takes such a dim view of your sexual habits.”
Billie resented something in that remark. She decided it must have been the fact that Dr. Morris didn’t seem to mind her escapades at all. Somehow, she felt that he should.
“Isn’t it logical that my father should feel that way?”
“Of course. How else could a responsible parent feel? But, how do you feel about it? That’s the important point.”
“I’m ashamed, I suppose.”
“Ashamed of what you do, or obsessed with guilt because you want your father to respect you and feel that he doesn’t?”
Billie flared defensively. “Where is all this getting us?”
Dr. Morris smiled quietly. “No place, perhaps.”
“Then why do we keep talking about it?”
“Why are you here?”
“Because my father sent me to this school. What we’re doing is a part of it, I guess.”
“That’s a good reason. I’m here because the school pays me well to listen to the various problems of its students, with an eye towards trying to help them.”
“Then we’re both here for purely personal reasons that have nothing to do with my problem. That is, if I really have a problem.”
“Oh, you have a problem, all right.”
“How can you be so sure? From what my father put down in that letter?”
“No. Let’s just say it’s an obvious problem. You compromise your freedom for luxury.”
“I don’t follow you.”
“You are of age. When your father told you that you were going to be sent to this college, you could have legally told him to fly a kite. But you submitted. Tell me this: would he have cut off your allowance if you had defied him?”
“Yes.”
“And you like having money?”
“Yes, don’t you?”
“What do you mean?” he said.
“They pay you for doing this, don’t they?” Billie asked.
“A doctor,” he said, “can remove an appendix and be stricken the next day himself.”
Billie laughed. “I’m sorry for being so hostile. After all, you are just trying to do your job. Have you any suggestions after reading the terrible truth in my father’s letter?”
“Yes. Study hard. Try to get rid of any sense of guilt, whenever it arises. And feel free to come and see me whenever you wish.”
“I’ll do that,” Billie said, rising. “And the next time I come, we’ll solve something else.”
“What’s that?”
“That hard-on you’ve got from looking at my tits. I’ll give you a blow-job.”
Her classes were finished for the day. She was just leaving the Science Building when she spotted a small washroom under the stairs and felt the urge.
She opened the washroom door and was inside before she realized there were a half-dozen silent girls inside a tense group, encircling a single girl who was watching them just as tensely and appeared to be awaiting some kind of attack.
Billie’s entrance was greeted with uncertainty. Then one of the group, a heavy-set girl with black eyebrows and a thick-lipped mouth, said, “Put her in the corner and see that she’s quiet. We’re going to have this out.”
Before she knew what was happening, Billie was pushed into a corner by two of the group. They weren’t rough, but they were firm. One of them said, “Just keep quiet, honey, and you won’t get hurt.”
They released her arms but stayed close, their grim expressions warning her that they would put up with no nonsense.
Now all attention went back to the tableau that was being played out.
There was obvious conflict, and it seemed to center on the heavy-browed girl who was referred to as Thelma, and a lusciously built, pretty brunette who was on the defensive.
Thelma turned back to the girl. “Okay, Louise, you think you can run the Club better than I can? Let’s see you prove it.”
“Anybody could,” Louise countered. “The trouble with you Thelma, is that none of the men go for you. And you just can’t stand that!”
“I suppose you’ve got them wrapped around your little finger?”
“I do all right.”
The brunette was not as frightened as she’d first appeared. Also, the group wasn’t necessarily hostile toward her. They were grimly neutral, awaiting the outcome of what was evidently a challenge of leadership.
Thelma, the leader of the Lovers? Billie really couldn’t see that image, somehow.
Thelma had moved closer to Louise. Now she lashed out with an open palm and caught the brunette off guard. The blow landed heavily on Louise’s jaw. It rocked her. She took two staggering, backward steps, braced herself against the wall and swung a roundhouse right that slammed, full-fisted, into Thelma’s neck.
And now the battle was on the fight, evidently, for leadership of the Lovers.
The watchers, tight with excitement, moved back to give the fighters all the room possible. Massaging her neck, her eyes filled with fury, Thelma circled her challenger.
“You big-titted bitch,” she hissed. “We’ll see who runs the Lovers. When I get through with you, there won’t be anything left for those studs to fuck!”
“You talk big,” Louise challenged. “Let’s see if you can back it up.” She took a quick, backward step and kicked her shoes off.
Thelma chose this moment to attack. She jerked her skirt high and kicked out, her foot catching Louise squarely in the cunt.
The girl doubled forward. Her mouth flew open as she cried wordlessly in pain and surprise. Her hands went instinctively to her pussy. Thelma stepped in and flattened her with a fist at the base of her skull.
Louise’s arms went out in a swan dive. Her eyes appeared to cross from the impact. She landed on the cement with a thud that knocked the breath out of her.
Sprawled there, helpless, she gasped for breath, her mouth open and her throat working painfully.
The smirk of satisfaction on Thelma’s face indicated that she was pondering some sort of humiliating ordeal she could put her opponent through something much more embarrassing than a kick to her cunt.
The big girl moved over Louise’s sprawled body. She reached and ripped open the front of Louise’s blouse. The girl’s bra shredded at the same time and her huge breasts tumbled out.