Her roommate shrugged. “Sure, my ride’s not coming for a couple hours yet, I should have time. Probably have to re-do my makeup, but… meh. Knock yourself out, slugger.” She began undoing her pants.
“Hey, I’m not really in the mood…”
“Fair enough. Mercedes, mind getting him in the mood?”
The blonde chuckled. “Sure, if your slut ass is suddenly too lazy to suck a dick.” She sunk to her knees, and whether he was in the mood or not, he wasn’t up to the task of denying the one-time prom queen her gift. Brittney stood behind him, wrapped her arms around him, kissed his neck and his ears.
Once he was good and hard, Mercedes didn’t even need prompting to shove him back on her bed and climb aboard. Brittney stood nearby, watching her best friend fuck her boyfriend. He really wasn’t in the mood, it seemed, as he mostly just laid back and let her bounce. She’d never seen a guy look so unenthused about a woman that sexy using his cock as a pogo stick.
Once she’d gotten off, he told her that was enough. The blonde gave him a kiss on the cheek and climbed off. “I think I’m gonna need a shower now—if Bobby calls, let him know I’ll be down soon, K?”
DJ began dressing himself once she’d scooted out. “Was that supposed to cheer me up or something?”
“It didn’t? Come on, if sex with a girl like that doesn’t cheer you up at least a little, you really may be a lost cause.”
He laughed. “Well all right. A little.”
“Good. But yes, there was a point to all that too. Ask me again if I minded you fucking my best friend right in front of me.”
“I know, I know, you didn’t.”
“That’s right. And obviously she didn’t mind. Did it do any harm?”
“Um, I guess not.”
“It sure didn’t. Nobody to spread rumors or take pictures or judge her or any of the other things that actually caused problems for these people.”
“Still, it just feels like…”
“I’m telling you to stop feeling that way. DJ, after that fall break together, I’ll be honest. I realized what you were capable of, and I was afraid. I was really worried you’d hurt someone without even realizing you were doing it.”
“Not an irrational fear.” He looked down, ashamed.
“At the time, I thought you were like my step-father, selfishly using and hurting people. Then I realized, like just now with Mercedes, you don’t hurt people. At worst, you inconvenience them. You play by different rules than the rest of us, and now you know those rules. Now you know that we can never be upset with you but we can still be upset with each other.”
“Brittney, I…”
She put a hand to his lips. It was hard to make herself shush him, but again, it was for his own good. “That’s the other difference between you and Earl. When you realized people were hurting because of something you did, you felt guilt. You wanted to fix it. That’s why I love you.”
“You… love me?”
She drew him into her arms then, and kissed him. “I love you so much I can barely put up with you sometimes.”
He smiled, and kissed her again. “Well you better learn how to put up with it, because I love you too.”
By the time Mercedes got out of her shower, their sweet-hearted makeout session had turned into full-blown sex. Brittney’s roommate politely ignored the rutting couple, but then DJ snapped his fingers and pointed to Brittney. “Suck her tits for me, would you Mercedes?”
She sighed. “I better not need to take another shower because you’re too lazy to suck your own girlfriend’s boobs.” She didn’t resist when he tugged off her towel, or when he slid a couple fingers up into her still-wet pussy. She groaned around a mouthful of tit, and when she and Brittney climaxed in unison she wasn’t displeased to see she got him off after all.
She was late to her party, though. Bobby had to wait almost an hour for her, but when DJ explained it to him, he said he didn’t mind.
“What’s on your mind, love?” Brittney asked. Lying in bed next to her, her naked, perfect body draped over him lovingly, against all sense he found his mind returning to the last thing he wanted to be thinking about.
“Ashley,” he said.
She poked his ribs. “You’re lucky I can’t be mad at you—most guys who said they were thinking of another woman right after they slept with me would be in a world of trouble.”
He grinned, and gave her a placating kiss. “Not about that. About all those things we did. I just can’t stop thinking about them.”
She sighed. “DJ… you’ve got to stop beating yourself up over that.”
“If I don’t, nobody else will. Even Ashley didn’t say a single hostile word to me while they were arresting her.”
“Look… Ashley’s going to make up for her crimes the way people always have. Is that what you want?”
“Sort of?”
“You know you can’t, right? For one, they’d never lock you up—they’d let you out when you wanted, feed you what you wanted, never punish you for anything. For two, I’d miss you too much.”
He smiled, but only a little. “OK, so I just go on feeling guilty forever?”
“Well punishing yourself isn’t the only way. Think what happens when people screw up. They have to pay for it—with jail time, or fines, or community service, or pay the victim money, or whatever.”
“You want me to clean up the highways?”
“I just want you to feel right again. So if you can’t undo the bad, maybe you just need to do some good. All the things you’ve managed to do… just think what you could do if you used your power to get people to do something nice.”
He let the idea ruminate for a moment. “You’re making me think of Ashley again.”
“OK, not as romantic as I hoped, but…”
“No. I was thinking about how when Ashley found out about my gift, all she could think about was how we could use it to hurt all the people she thought should be hurt. Then you find out, and your first piece of advice is to use it to help the people who need helping. Brittney, you’re an angel, I swear.”
Brittney had never been one for giving good advice, really, never someone her friends turned to for counsel. For DJ, however, her words did the trick. Over the next few days, DJ cooked up a plan to start a scholarship for all the students whose lives he’d disrupted. Some of them he knew by name, others he was able to use his boss’s computer system to track down by picture, but many were just strangers he had no way of locating.
That was no barrier, though—he put his tolerance gift to use, channeling money (from some rich folks who were too happy to “donate”) and influence (once the university president and board of directors could see how hundreds of thousands of dollars in tuition remission made sense). In a time span that was nothing short of miraculous, the Emily Turner Scholarship Fund was up and running.
Jillian walked into the Student Aid Office without a clue in the world why she’d been called in. Had her loans not come through? Was a scholarship being canceled? Had her parents missed a payment? This semester had been stressful enough without adding financial difficulties onto it, especially the past couple weeks, since they’d found that dead girl down the hall from her. Everyone had figured that was crazy as that slut had been, it must’ve been some kind of manic depressive suicide or something, but then the rumor mill spread word that it had been a murder. Her RA’s girlfriend—one of them—had been dragged out in handcuffs, cum dribbling down her chin, screaming obscenities.
It took the Jillian a few minutes before she even noticed the waiting room, beyond just the surprisingly packed nature of it. There was only one guy in here. The rest of the waiting room was young women, and, as she slowly took stock of her surroundings, she realized they were disproportionately attractive. There wasn’t a girl in here that wasn’t at least a 7. (As the boys rated such things, that is. Pigs.)