"Whose cock is that?" Liz asked teasingly as she lifted a leg onto a chair, exposing her sex. She ran her fingers across it teasingly.
"Yours," Curtis said breathily, eyeing Liz like a hawk ready to dive. "Get on me."
"Not yet," she demurred, "You've got to get my cock a little bigger first. Then… maybe I will let you taste me."
Curtis quickened his pace on his shaft, and Liz could see a bead of moisture form on his head and was tempted to lick it off, but knew it wasn't right to do. Curtis reached down with his other hand and fondled his smoothly shaven testicles. She could tell he was close to climaxing and knew now was the time to help him finish.
"Imagine your hot come all over my tits," she moaned squeezing them together, "I am."
It got the expected response. He tilted his head back and pumped himself furiously. His eyes began to close from the self-created passion.
Quickly Liz grabbed her phone and, without Curtis being able to see her, took several pictures of her fiancé naked in a bra coming all over himself. Her task completed, she returned to the bathroom to get her clothes back on. As she pulled her shirt back on she shouted out through the door, "Are you decent?"
Without waiting for an answer, she went out and tossed her dress for the night over her arm.
The ride over to Daytona Beach, though long, was uneventful. Curtis drove too fast and Liz napped, as had become their custom when they travelled. Perhaps ominously, they'd never been much for conversation, though Liz did have to admit that they had talked more often and about a greater variety of subjects when they'd first been dating. Now she thought they more just tolerated each other for the most part with the only real chemistry left to them being that which they shared sexually.
They got over to the oceanfront resort where the formal was being held around 2:30 in the afternoon. Liz saw a few cars she recognized as those of her clique, but was pretty sure that they were among the first of the crowd to arrive.
Setting Curtis to check them in and get their luggage — mostly hers — up to their room, Liz set about heading to the top floor where the event was to be held to check things out. It was a great room which fronted the sea on two sides.
As expected, her good friend and sorority sister Claire was there running through the final arrangements for the annual video and picture gallery, which would be played right after the formal dinner concluded but before the following brief award ceremony and ceremonial parting words from the soon to be graduating class would be shared.
Liz popped the memory card out of her phone and handed it to Claire with a few brief instructions on some simple and last minute changes she wanted to make to the gallery. Knowing all was now well, Liz turned and headed back down to her room.
Pausing at the door, she could hear the commotion already from within which meant that Curtis had gotten settled in just fine. On entering, she could see that Curtis already had his cooler, which was filled with his own home made concoction that their circle affectionately referred to as "Curtis' Wine Coolers," set up on the balcony outside. There were a few other couples there as well relaxing a bit before they would eventually leave to get ready.
"Hey, babe," Curtis yelped from across the room as he filled up a fresh cup with his poison. Coming over he handed the cup to her and gave her a welcoming kiss. She could feel the alcohol on his lips and already see the slight pinkness in his eyes.
"Thanks, love," she replied, motioning for him to sit down so she could sit with him. She sipped her drink cautiously, knowing from experience that Curtis was hardcore when it came to mixing a drink. She also knew a little known fact that as a party progressed, he often added more liquor to his concoctions, so it literally became more potent as time progressed.
"Good batch," she said, flashing a smile at him and playfully digging her nails into his knee just a bit more than she needed to. "I like the lime this time. Adds a little exotic twist."
They talked more and various friends came and went and, although they enjoyed the company, in retrospect they would realize that the talk of partying and the other silliness which made up most of collegiate life was just that: silliness.
Debbie and her boyfriend Jack came over, with Jack sitting across from her but on the cheap coffee table in the room. They were so close that their knees touched and rubbed against each other.
Liz didn't know if it was reciprocated, but she'd always been intrigued and attracted to Jack in the worst possible way and for the life of her she couldn't figure out the cause. He was handsome, but by no means overly so. They'd known each other almost since their first day on campus, a day on which she'd become instantly smitten with him. At times it seemed on the verge of more, but that was only in her mind. He was shy to a fault.
And even though she flirted with him from time to time and sometimes even outrageously so, he'd never taken the bait. Perhaps this apparent lack of interest was what made him so desirable, but Liz thought it was a bit more.
After about a year, she'd realized what made Jack different. It was how he treated girls, or at least how he treated Liz. They talked often but it was always platonic, but what made it great was not only what they discussed but how they did it. It was almost never sports, though Jack was a bit of an athlete. It was even less often the party from last weekend- or the one coming up this weekend.
Rather, they talked about meaningful things like politics, the environment, and their lives after college. What made Jack so wonderful was that he seemed more interested in what she thought than even she did. Unlike most all men she knew, he treated her as an equal- an intelligent and vibrant one. He made her feel all powerful, like she could accomplish anything. It was an exhilarating feeling. Oh, and he listened too.
On second thought maybe he wasn't a man at all, given that last thought. The thought of Jack being a closet transvestite made Liz burst out laughing which drew more than a little attention from the increasing crowd in her hotel room. Feeling amused but still just the slightest bit embarrassed, she stood up to excuse herself as she felt the first hint of a flush come over her face.
As soon as she did, though, she realized she had done so a bit too quickly. Her drink went to her head — she doubted the lime was the culprit — and for a moment she almost fell forward as the result of a little wobble, but was able to put her hand on Jack's shoulder to steady herself.
A few eyes looked her way, but most all turned away when they realized she wasn't going to cause a scene and fall into the floor. Jack looked hard at her, as if searching for something to say, but seemed reassured when she squeezed his shoulder with a bit of confidence as if to tell him she was okay.
"Shake it off, Lizzie," she heard Curtis cackle from slightly behind her, though she could tell he hadn't moved an inch to check on her. He was too busy now being the loud center of attention at an increasingly loud gathering of half drunken coeds.
Now having regained her composure, Liz stood completely and let her fingertips brush across Jack's jawline as she took her hand off his shoulder. He hadn't shaved yet and she found the prickles of his stubble teasing her imagination. Feeling a bit more color coming her face's way now, Liz opted to head for the bathroom and a splash of water.
She didn't look back over her shoulder, but if she had she would have seen Jack slowly turn to follow her with his eyes.
Liz got to the bathroom and closed the door, turning the water on in the basin as she did so, gazing at the tepid water as it ran over her freshly manicured hands before gazing at herself in the mirror. Her lightly made up "day face" as she called it, still looked pristine in spite of the slight buzz she was starting to feel. In a bit she'd shower and put on her "night face," but she wanted to enjoy the company of her friends a bit more first.