Summer Endings

Authors Note: Well, I'm hard at work on Dungeon Mistress Session 5, but as mentioned, the finale is a real behemoth and I want to make sure to do it justice. As such, I'm releasing a sponsored story this week while I continue to work on it. Rest assured, I'm making good progress against Session 5, and it'll get released this month (hopefully next week!)

For now: this is another sponsored story from roxas_duh. A big thanks for supporting me!

Like A Summer Obsession, this takes place after Unexpected Summer (ending B, to be precise). This story is from Summer's perspective. 

This is admittedly not part of the 'canon' timeline in my head, it's a "What If" scenario. But it was super fun to write nonetheless. Hope you enjoy.

---

Everything had been going badly ever since the family vacation.

First of all, neither of my parents were speaking to me anymore. My sister, either...though that was hardly surprising.

Mom and dad sent the tuition check on time. They also sent a brief text to say they loved me and just "needed some space to grapple with what had happened." And that they hadn't realized I was "that sort of person."

Whatever that meant.

At least there was a silver lining there: they weren't bugging me about my grades, or the classes I was taking for the fall semester, or whether I was going to graduate on time.

But it was a bad start to the summer.

After that, when I'd gotten back to campus, it turned out that the A/C in the sorority house was broken. Not just working badly; it wasn't working at all. The repairs for it were going to be steep -- replacing the whole system -- and it was expensive enough that it wasn't going to happen until after everyone paid their sorority dues.

Which weren't due until September 1.

In a summer of sweltering, humid, 90-plus-degree days, this was really bad news. The second floor of the house was basically a sauna. The first floor wasn't much better.

The first few nights in the living room, piled in together like we were at a sleepover and drinking cold beer out of the fridge, were fun. After the novelty wore off, though, it just became a constant, passive-aggressive battle over whose turn it was to get the futon, who had to sleep in the spot everyone had to step over to get to the bathroom, and so on.

Bringing a guy by the sorority house was out of the question. Ordinarily, I'd just invite myself over to someone's place. I had lots of options, obviously.

But it seemed like this summer was jinxed. Most of my usual hookups weren't around, back home for the summer. The few who were still here were all avoidant. Busy, not looking to hang out right now, and so on.

Maybe they'd all gotten girlfriends? That had rarely stopped me from getting what I wanted before, though.

I got hung up on one interaction in particular. I was talking to a guy on social media who would've been perfect for the night: Peter. Tall. Handsome. Generally dominant in bed -- even with me -- although I liked to tease him anyway, occasionally got past his confidence and dominance.

But just like some of the others, he was being inexplicably cagey.

I flipped through his photos from last night, looking for explanations. He'd been at some party or club. Blurry shots, but one thing was clear: a shorter blonde girl, face never quite in frame, but cleavage certainly in frame, was dangling off him in half of the photos.

He was hooking up with somebody else.

As a result of all of this, I hadn't gotten off in weeks. Jason hadn't lived up to my expectations on the vacation, and that had been frustrating enough, but I'd expected to be able to get what I needed once I was back on campus.

So it was that, one hot Saturday afternoon, I scrolled through my phone, glumly assessing my options. There were a few guys left on the roster, but after a weeks-long dry spell, I didn't want to break my fast with just anybody. 

I needed something spectacular. Someone who could sate my appetite. Something special.

I wanted Jason, if I was honest. Wanted to play with him some more. Wanted to see that helpless, frustrated, overwhelmed look on his face as he lost control, yet again, faster than he wanted to. I wanted to revel in the knowledge that he could control himself for Jessica...but not for me.

Never for me.

But Jason wasn't on offer, and neither was anyone else impressive.

I didn't know what to do, but there was no way in hell I was going this whole summer without getting off.

---

All of that is how I found myself sitting in Jake's apartment, at about midnight on a Saturday.

Jake had thrown a party, which we were now at the tail-end of. Just a few stragglers left, all of us sitting around his living room sipping at our drinks.

I wasn't really a friend, as it happened. I didn't even know Jake's last name. We had hooked up last year. He was, if I was honest, a bit disappointing. Just kind of...average, all around. The walking, living, breathing human version of a C+, including in the bedroom. I had given him one try, and then another to make sure there wasn't something interesting lurking amidst the mediocrity.

There was not, although it was admittedly fun to make sure he knew that, too.

Even after that, he still kept inviting me to parties and other things, obviously hoping for more opportunities.

I mostly turned him down. I was less interested in that than he was. But I was desperate, and I wasn't going to get what I needed sitting in the sorority house.

...And at least his place had working air conditioning.

I decided that he was an acceptable last resort...if I didn't run into someone better at this party.

I was dressed for low-key Saturday drinking: low cut tank top, jean shorts.

I sipped at the most recent beer that Jake, ever-hopeful, was plying me with. It was my third or fourth in almost as many hours, so I had a slight buzz, but still had my wits about me.

I looked around the room, assessing. I was tired of the lame party conversation. It was late; I was ready to find my afterparty entertainment.

"So, Gary you were gonna run that marathon at the end of the summer, right? How's it going?" It was Jake, of course. Unlike me, he was looking a little wobbly at this point. He hadn't been pacing himself the way I had. I knew that he'd be passing out soon.

"Huh? Uh, yeah. Training's going okay. I've got the endurance, just trying to improve my splits, y'know? I think I've got a shot at breaking 2:30 this time." The guy answering was a tall guy who I'd seen around campus before. Gary. On the track and field team. Handsome enough; am athlete, but lanky, the build of a marathoner.

Currently, he was heroically doing his best to look anywhere besides at my tits in the tank top. Every so often he'd lose the battle, and I'd watch his eyes drift surreptitiously to my chest, before pulling away again.

Casually, I leaned forward, offering a better view, amusing myself as his struggle to keep his eyes off me intensified.

Gary might be interesting. I pressed my thighs together, feeling the heat building in my core; the way he was doing his best, but just couldn't seem to take his eyes off me, was exactly the sort of thing that I liked. The sort of thing that promised an evening of fun for me while he struggled to control himself.

There was only one problem. Sitting right next to him.

Gary's girlfriend -- whose name I hadn't caught and didn't especially care about -- chimed in encouragingly. "You've got it, babe. You've been so dedicated to your training I'm sure you'll do great." Dark hair, pretty enough, but, predictably, she just wasn't as...well, curvaceous as I was. She was currently splitting disapproving looks between my cleavage and everyone else. It was obvious that she had wanted to leave about an hour ago, but dragging Gary away from the party -- and my tits -- had proved to be difficult.

Although much of her disapproval, I couldn't help but notice, seemed to be reserved for the woman on her other side.

Allie. I hadn't seen her around; didn't really know her.

She was slim, and short -- an inch or two shorter than me, even. She had a pretty face, with long, dark-blonde hair. Olive skin. She was so petite that she looked almost doll-like at first glance. Until your gaze drifted further down her frame, and you realized that she had a full, round, and completely disproportionate set of tits. She was wearing a pretty blue sundress, which only accentuated how feminine and delicate she looked.

I envied the even tan of her skin. There were no freckles, no tan lines -- just flawless, smooth, olive skin, and plenty of it. The top half of her breasts were exposed, appealingly.

Her tits probably weren't actually bigger than mine. Not really. She was just so small, they looked big on her by comparison. An optical illusion. That was it.

And then I realized something else.

I hadn't seen her face around, but I'd seen those tits. That hair.

In the photos I'd been looking at on Peter's social media.

Now, look. I wasn't always the hottest girl in the room. That was fine by me; I was used to it, even. I'd grown up in Jessica's shadow; perfect Jessica, with her perfect grades, her modeling good looks. Her perfect boyfriend.

Well, perfect until he'd run into me, anyway. The thought made me smug.

Anyway, the point was, being upstaged in the looks department didn't bother me.

It didn't bother me because I had learned a long time ago that attitude counted for almost as much as looks. I wasn't always the best looking, but I always got the most attention. I was sexual, flirty. I could banter with the best of them. Guys saw me as a challenge.

But in this moment, I realized that something subtle and similar was going on with how Jake and Gary were studiously not looking at Allie. With the furtive, irritated, threatened glances that Gary's girlfriend was throwing Allie's way.

It was how guys behaved after they stopped seeing me as a challenge...because they'd lost. They knew couldn't handle me.

How girls behaved when they knew their boyfriend wanted me, but didn't want to acknowledge it outright.

Except it wasn't directed at me. It was directed at Allie.

I wasn't used to that, and I didn't like being sidelined.

"Wow, that's a really fast time, isn't it? Is this his first marathon since you two started dating?" I leaned further forward, as if I was intrigued by this utterly mundane, vapid line of conversation.

I saw both Gary and his girlfriend register my interest, though their reactions were completely different.

Gary, gratified, made eye contact with me -- well, briefly, anyway, before his gaze drifted downward again. "Yep, it's a pretty fast time," he said, sounding proud. "It'd be a personal record for me."

His girlfriend's mouth compressed into a thin, irritated line. "Yeah. It'll be his first real race since we started dating," she said. One of her hands went, possessively, to Gary's thigh.

"Wow," I breathed the word out, lips parted, as if impressed. "It'd be really something if he got his fastest time ever with you, huh?"

His girlfriend opened her mouth to reply, but I bulldozed over her, glancing at Gary. "I mean, it must be so motivating for you, right? Knowing she'll be cheering you on from the sidelines?"

"Uh, y-yeah, motivating," he agreed. He was using the conversation as an excuse to look my direction, but not at my eyes.

His girlfriend tried to interject. "I--"

I glanced at her, impassive. This was familiar territory, now, and I was enjoying myself. "I mean, I've dated a few athletes, and I've always liked to think I helped them get really fast finishes; I hope you're doing that for Gary..." I trailed off, suggestively.

His girlfriend shut up.

And then, softly, Allie let out a nervous, quiet, little laugh.

Gary reddened in the silence that followed.

Gary stammered out, "I, uh--she's--yeah, motivating...it'll...be a fast race, for sure. My fastest," he finished, lamely.

I realized that, somehow, his focus -- avoidant though it was -- was still on Allie. Not on me. I glanced over at Allie, irritated.

With a moment to gather herself, his girlfriend had clearly had enough. "C'mon, Gary. We should go. Sleep's really important, you've got your long run tomorrow."

Gary looked reluctant, but was embarrassed enough to acquiesce. "Uh...sure. Nice to meet you, Summer. Good to see you, Jake." The two of them said their goodbyes -- not to Allie, I couldn't help but notice -- and left.

A few other people chose that moment to call it a night, say their goodbyes, and trickle out of Jake's living room. Ninety seconds later, it was down to just Allie, Jake, and me.

Jake, of course, looked drunkenly pleased with the situation. "Just you and me left, huh, ladies? You're welcome to crash here, if you like."

Even Allie rolled her eyes at that.

I ignored him, focused on Allie. "So, I'm guessing you dated Gary, huh?"

She just shrugged, uncomfortable. "Not really dated. We just hung out a few times, a bit before he started seeing Cindy."

"And did you help him set any personal records? In the bedroom, maybe? His girlfriend -- Cindy, is it? -- seemed pissed." I was enjoying Allie's clear discomfort.

Allie crossed her arms. She looked anxious. "C'mon, I don't wanna talk about that stuff."

I just smirked. "Oooh, why not?"

"Hey, c'mon, Summer, go easy on her," Jake said.

I wasn't sure if he was playing knight in shining armor or what. But suddenly I realized that behind my amusement at Allie's discomfort was a whole lot of frustration that was now boiling over.

I was in college. I was horny. It was the end of a Saturday night. There ought to have been a partner, a conquest, even just a plaything. Someone to have fun with.

But there wasn't. No Jason. Not even a Gary.

Just boring, run-of-the-mill, forgettable Jake.

And Allie.

Allie, who was clearly part of the reason I hadn't been able to get laid at all recently.

How had it come to this?

Whatever. I was fed up.

Fed up with both of them.

I decided that if I wasn't going to get my rocks off, I was going to at least have some fun.

I turned towards Jake, and put my best, self-satisfied, teasing smile on my face. "Aw, Jake. That's sweet how you're defending her. Hoping she'll reward her knight in shining armor? Ooh, or maybe you're hoping we'll both think you're just so manly, and be down for a threesome?"

Jake was too drunk to blush, just stared at me, letting that hang in the silence for a moment. Like Gary, I watched as his gaze too flicked down from my face to my tits....and then over to Allie's tits. "I-I mean, I--"

"Oh, but you'd need to last to satisfy both of us. Wouldn't he, Allie?" I whispered it, knowing, my eyes never leaving his.

Now she tried to rally. "You're not being very--"

I cut her off. "And I don't think you could, Jake," I murmured. "I don't remember you lasting that long the last time we, y'know..." I trailed off into a giggle.

He started to stammer something, but I just kept talking. "I'm guessing that once things got hot and heavy...y'know, Allie and I...touching each other...maybe making out..."

I stood up, moved over to stand in front of Allie. Jake watched, entranced. Allie was staring up at me warily as well.

I had been planning just to tease Jake a bit, make Allie uncomfortable, call it a night. A little revenge for my ruined evening.

But I realized -- with a flutter of excitement in my stomach -- that I'd seen the look on Allie's face before. 

Behind the wariness, she felt out of control. She was warring with herself; wasn't sure she wanted what was about to happen, but didn't know how to stop it.

Didn't know if she wanted to stop it.

I'd seen it before most recently on Jason's face.

My plans, my target, changed in an instant.

Maybe I was going have a fun Saturday after all.

The first thing to do, obviously, was to get rid of Jake.

I leaned forward, as if I was about to kiss Allie, my lips inches from hers. She was frozen, that same conflicted look of desire on her face.

And then I pulled away, and looked over at Jake. A direct, mocking stare.

Like I had expected, he was staring, openmouthed.

And he had an obvious hard-on.

I giggled. "See, Jake? I mean, you've got a boner already. You'd probably cum in your pants if I actually kissed her in front of you. It wouldn't be a threesome you'd be proud of, if you get what I'm saying."

I held his gaze, direct and confident. Jake was bright, beet red. I could tell he knew he was in over his head, that if he stuck around, this was only going to get more embarrassing.

For a moment, I thought he was going to argue with me. Try to prove he could hang.

That'd be fun, too. 

But after a moment, drunk and humiliated, he backed down. He stood up, swaying slightly. "Yeah, I'm gonna...use the bathroom, get ready for bed," he mumbled. "If, I'm, um, not back, you guys can just crash on the couch or head out. Thanks for coming..."

He turned and stumbled towards his bedroom. I giggled at his retreating back.

"You're kind of being a...bitch," Allie observed. But her voice was small, uncertain.

The near-kiss had thrown her, made her feel some things. I could tell she was intimidated. Good. I knew what I wanted to happen next.

"You haven't been very nice." I whirled on her, stalking towards her. "This is my playground."

She wrinkled her brow in confusion. "Wha-"

"The guy I was hoping to hang out with tonight, wasn't interested...and then I look at his social media and I see photos of you. I probably could've pulled Gary away from whatever-her-name-was, but he was distracted by you. Hell, I could even have had some fun with Jake if he wasn't fantasizing about some threesome with the two of us that he absolutely couldn't handle. I haven't gotten laid in weeks, and it's all your fault. You owe me. And I get the sense that you're...interested, anyway, aren't you?" I grinned at her, sly and confident -- a grin I'd found that to be very effective with timid women before.

Allie opened her mouth, but then just bit her lip, and nodded. She wanted it. Good; I was done talking. I leaned over her on the couch and kissed her. She stiffened, immediately -- not pushing me away, but clearly startled, surprised.

Allie was shorter than me by an inch or two, and far smaller. I had never been the physically larger partner, and it gave me a thrill of excitement. I wrapped my hands around her wrists -- which were thin enough my fingers could meet around them -- and pushed them up above her head, moving to straddle her on the couch.

She made a sound. It began as a protest, but ended, moments later, as a little whimper as we kissed and my tongue ran over and around hers.

The sound, submissive and aroused, produced a twinge between my thighs. I pulled my mouth off hers in satisfaction a moment later. This was what I had been hoping for.

Her brown eyes met mine. "What...what're you..."

I ignored the question. "You haven't ever done this with a woman, have you?"

"N-no...I..." She trailed off into a gasp as I reached both of my hands out and caressed her tits.

I had been wrong, earlier. I didn't like to admit it, but they were bigger than mine. Even with my palms against them, fingers spread as far apart as I could go, I couldn't encompass them.

"Damn, girl." I exhaled the words, admiring them. I started squeezing those tits, kneading with my hands through her top.

She let out a moan as I massaged her breasts. Fuck, I loved the sound of someone -- man or woman -- losing control of themselves for me, giving in to the physical pleasure against their better judgment. I went from simply turned on to wet in an instant -- it was the sounds she was making, those helpless little aroused noises that she was doing her best to control but just couldn't..

The sounds and her tits, I mentally amended. I shifted my position so that I was straddling one of her thighs. The seam of my tight little jean shorts was digging into me, a hard little ridge against my clit and down my wet slit. I started slowly grinding my pussy into her thigh, stimulating myself even as I continued to massage those tits.

"H-have you done this before?" Allie had found her voice, was staring down at my hands on her breasts as if entranced.

The uncertainty in her voice gave me another surge of lust. "Oh, yes," I whispered. "Don't worry, I'll make sure you have a good time." Slowly and deliberately, I pulled both her sundress and her bra down and away, exposing her tits.

I stopped, staring for a long moment. I couldn't help it. They were, frankly, perfect. The shape -- big, full, symmetrical teardrops. The color -- her even, olive skin, no freckles. There was a little sag, but surprisingly -- given how enormous they were -- only a little. And, perfectly positioned and proportioned, there were two, erect, nut-brown nipples just inches away from my hands.

Everything about them was flawless.

The sight of the eager, hard nubs broke me out of my reverie. My hands went to the warm skin of her breasts again. As I fondled her, I tweaked her nipples between my fingers, rolling them.

"Oh, fuck," she moaned. There was a different quality to the sound -- surprised, excited.

"Feels better than having a guy do it, huh?" I asked the question, smugly. The way she was responding, combined with going so long without any kind of sexual release, had me rapidly soaking my panties, grinding against her leg.

She nodded, mutely, and then managed, "Lots of guys...finish...by now..."

Even I was taken aback by that. "Really? Already?"

I was obviously familiar with the effect big tits had on some men, and hers were exceptional -- but that surprised me.

Allie nodded again. "Y-yeah...I hardly have to do anything at all..." She leaned back, enjoying the sensation of me playing with her tits.

I did my best to project nonchalant confidence. "I-I mean, yeah, that's...that's how it is. Guys get their hands on a nice pair of tits and their self control goes out the window."

But I said it a little awkwardly. The hypocrisy -- me with my soaked pussy, grinding on her leg, while I talked shit about how men couldn't control themselves -- wasn't lost on me.

Allie moaned again, pushing her chest into my hands as I massaged her breasts. She stuttered out, "Sometimes...I don't even... really need to touch them...they just...lose it..."

I opened my mouth to make another smug, cutting comment, about how pathetic that was, how little self-control men had.

She wasn't done, though. "But sometimes -- ah -- I need to help a little..."

And then I felt her hands, delicately, go to my waist. She wasn't that strong, but she was pushing me down into her leg, adding a little pressure that had me grinding into her thigh a bit harder than I had been on my own.

I let out a gasp at the increased sensation. I started playing with her tits more aggressively, staring down at them, the way they shifted, flattening as I squeezed. Fuck, I loved the way they felt in my hands.

I could feel Allie's dark eyes on me. "Y-you know, you have the same look that Jake did, when he played with them."

She was breathless. Still sounded turned on. But behind that was a knowing, satisfied tone in her voice that I didn't like much.

"I-I mean, I've got tits too," I managed, sarcastically. I tweaked one of her nipples, hard.

But admittedly, my attention wasn't on the rejoinder. I was preoccupied, consumed by the way she felt underneath me, the way her petite body was responding to my touch, how full her tits were in my hands. I was pushing my hips more deeply into her, now.

"Ah -- h-he played with my nipples for a bit, too and then -- ah -- and then I could feel him t-tense up, and h-he..." Allie got the words out in broken fits and starts as I teased her tits more and more aggressively.

Well, I didn't like her comparing me to Jake.

But I let it slide. It had been a long time since I'd had this much fun playing with someone.

I pinned her against the couch, kneading her tits against her body, staring down at them.

"I-I wondered if because you were a woman, you'd last longer, but...you seem..." She looked nervous, aroused, but...knowing, somehow. The underlying tone was one I'd used before, often.

Bitch.

"Fuck you," I spat out. One of my hands drifted down from her breasts to between her thighs. I worked it up under the sundress, along her smooth thighs, between her legs, pressing my palm up against her.

She was hot under my fingers, and wet.

"Oh, yes," she moaned. She bucked her hips, pushing against my hand. Her hands, reflexively, gripped my waist more tightly, grinding me down into her.

Fuck, this was fun. It was the way I was able to physically dominate her, how much smaller she was than me. The contrast, her delicate body under mine, was delicious. I'd never experienced anything like it and it was intoxicating.

"Keep going, w-with your hand," she panted out. She whimpered a little, pushing against my hand.

God, that was sexy. I opened my mouth for a smug comment. I'd tell her to beg, maybe.

But -- embarrassingly -- nothing came out.

Abruptly, looking down at Allie, grinding against her leg, I became aware -- all at once -- that I was teetering on the brink of an orgasm. That seam in my jean shorts was angled just right, providing just the right amount of friction against me, and my hand was so full of her big, soft tits, she was so small underneath me, those soft hands at my waist...

I fought with it for a few seconds, stopped my movement.

But my body wanted this. It had been a long time since I'd gotten off.

A really, really long time. And even though I'd stopped grinding myself against her, trying to last longer...well, Allie's hands around my waist were still rhythmically pushing me into her thigh.

I was still kneading one of her tits with one hand, but as I lost my concentration, my hand fell away from between her thighs.

I felt my body tense up, freeze, as I fell over the edge.

"Y-your hand feels good, keep going..." She trailed off in recognition. "...Are you gonna...?" Allie sounded slightly confused.

I wanted to tell her to fuck off, but in that moment, the climax swept over me. So instead I just stared at her, mouth open but speechless, as the pleasure washed everything else away. I managed not to let out a full-fledged moan as I came, but I shuddered a little, grinding helplessly into her leg.

I heard her snort, a quiet little sound of disbelief. I didn't respond; I was still riding the tail end of the wave of the bliss when Allie shifted us, putting me on my back, lying on the couch.

She was looking down at me. "How'd that feel?" The words were curious.

"Mmm," I acknowledged, as non-committal as I could be, trying to regain control of myself.

"It's okay that you liked it, Summer. I mean, I can't believe you had an orgasm humping my leg. But then, Gary was embarrassed by how fast he came, too." I could hear the teasing note in her voice, now.

I felt myself flush with anger. I wasn't one of those quick-cumming guys, the ones who were picking her over me. I leaned up and forward and nipped at one of her nipples.

She let out a little gasp.

She was on top of me, yes, but she was so much lighter than a guy would've been in the same position.

One of my hands threaded its way under her dress again. She let out a hiss of breath as I touched her. She was even wetter than she had been before.

"The difference between me and Gary is that I'm still gonna get you off," I said, confident. I pressed the palm of my hand against her folds, feeling how wet she was. "Easily. Just like I get them off..."

Slowly, ever so slowly, I slid one finger inside her.

Allie was tight, and she groaned at the penetration. I could feel her gripping me, but she was wet enough that I could pump the finger in and out of her without too much difficulty. I moved my hand from one of her breasts to the back of her neck, moving her body with the thrusts of my finger into her.

She protested as she bounced atop me. "I-I don't...you came so..." but the words became a formless sound as I slowly worked my finger in and out of her.

She was rocking into my hand, now.

"You like it, huh?"

She nodded, helplessly.

I felt a rush of arousal. Yeah, she'd made me cum first. But I'd show her.

"Jake gave me that little desperate nod, too, you know," I whispered, looking up at her confidently. "Wanted me to know how much he liked it, just before he blew his load everywhere." I started moving my finger faster, and she let out a little squeal at the increased sensation.

"But maybe you're more like Peter. He pretended he liked being in charge, in control...but I could always see when he was about to cum...that helpless look on his face..." I gave her a smirk. "Kind of like the look you've got, now."

"I-I'm not...gonna..." Allie was breathing fast, now, panting the words out. I could hear the tension in her voice.

My smirk widened, mocking. "Oh, I think you will. That's what Jake said, the second time I hooked up with him." I adopted a whiny tone, imitating him. "I'm not the kind of guy who cums fast, that was just a fluke. But he was a fast cummer for me. Every time. And I bet you will be too, Allie."

She let out a groan as I brought my other hand down, using the fingers to massage her clit.

I could tell she was close. I wanted to finish when I was on top of her. I'd do this for a bit longer, then I'd push her down, pin her, and...

...And then rational thought evaporated as she moaned again, and arched her back. Her full tits were right in my face, practically enveloping me. They became my world.

God, her tits were incredible. Maybe I'd finish her like this.

I started sucking on one of her nipples. The soft weight of her breast against my mouth sent a thrill through me.

In this position, it was hard to want to be the dominant one. It just felt so good to have her tits in my face.

She was moaning as I sucked her nipple, nibbled at it.

No, it dawned on me, dimly. That sound was me. I was moaning, even as I mouthed her breast.

"You're so good with that mouth, Summer." Her voice was quiet, but she sounded surprised, pleased. A hint of amusement.

I realized -- my brain belatedly catching up with my body -- that I'd stopped fingering her. Both of my hands were on her tits instead, kneading, feeling her up again.

This was her first time with a woman. I should be in charge. I was in charge. I would...

I felt her hand slide down my abdomen. A little clumsy, as she unbuttoned my shorts one-handed. But then I felt her fingers -- small, tentative, but deft -- slip inside the waistband, explore. And then two of them -- slowly, oh so slowly -- sliding along my clit, the entire length of her fingers stroking along either side of it, before she pulled them back again to repeat the motion.

"You're so wet, too." More surprised. Even more pleased. Even more amused.

I recognized the tone. It was the way I usually felt. The way I was supposed to feel, when I was in control.

The realization infuriated me. But I couldn't respond to her; my mouth was occupied. And I was focused on the sensations. Her soft body against mine. Those fingers. My moans coalesced into a long, drawn out groan of pleasure against her breasts.

And then she started sliding them up and down, rapidly, running along my slippery clit over, and over, and over.

I made an attempt to push her off. But as I reached up, trying to get a shoulder, I found myself reflexively fondling one of her breasts again instead, palming it, feeling its full shape in my hand, the weight of it, the way it--

I was going to cum again.

"N-no," I muttered. But I didn’t mean it, not really. And it was too late, anyway; I could feel the orgasm already cresting over me.

"Oh god. No." I said the word again, as if saying it would slow down what was about to happen.

All amusement, now, from Allie. "Not ready to cum yet? So just don't then, Summer. I mean, you're not like Jake, right? That first time was just a fluke..."

Fucking bitch.

But it was too late; another orgasm came crashing down. I didn't just moan this time, I writhed in the throes of it, reveled in the way her fingers were sliding along my wet slit, the way her big tits felt against me.

"Oh, wow," Allie murmured. "That was even faster than the first one." After the first orgasm, she'd still sounded tentative, unsure. Now there was a new assuredness in her voice. I was embarrassed by the giddy rush of pleasure it gave me.

"W-wait," I managed to gasp into her breasts. I could hear something in my own voice that was almost unrecognizable to me: pleading.

I was so sensitive, now, after two orgasms. It almost made me afraid.

I couldn't see Allie's face, but I could hear the smile. "Would you stop, if Jake asked? But if you really want me to stop, I will. I mean, you can stop me any time you like; after all, you're so much stronger than me. Unless…you actually want me to keep going...?"

She knew the answer. Of course I wasn't going to stop her. I met her eyes and -- to my shame -- I gave her a desperate, nod, surrendering to the feeling. I wanted her to keep going. Needed her to keep going.

I felt her fingers creep past my clit, lower. Felt them slip inside me. It was easy -- she was deft, her hands were small, I was wet.

"Oh my god, Summer," Allie murmured, as if scandalized. "I thought Jake getting a boner so quick was pathetic, but look at you, so wet..."

The comparisons were humiliating, but I had long since given up on responding, and truthfully, I didn't care. I groaned with pleasure, with the sensation of something, anything, filling me.

She pumped her fingers in and out of me a few more times, and then began curling her fingers as she fucked me. 

Oh, fuck. I was so sensitive. The next orgasm was speeding at me like a freight train.

"This is how I like to do myself," she whispered in my ear. "Do you like it? It usually makes me cum so fast..."

I barely registered the words. My hips locked and my back arched.

I felt her lips curve against my ear, and she whispered, “Oh, but it doesn’t usually make me cum this fast, though…”

I lost control again.

---

I'd like to tell you that at some point I was sated. That I got my wits about me, turned the tables on her, went and got one of my dildos and fucked her senseless with it. 

Hell, that I brought Jake out and told him how to fuck her. Called Gary and got him back here, made him blow his load and then made Allie cum afterwards. Got Peter and challenged her to a blowjob contest.

But none of that happened.

Instead, practically smothered by her big tits, Allie fingered me through an incredible series of orgasms. I came, over and over, for this inexperienced girl who was clearly enjoying her command of my body, all while she told me how much I reminded her of the pathetic guys that couldn't handle either of us.

When she left Jake's place, after she was done, I was completely spent.

Well, I felt completely spent.

But the truth is, if she had wanted to do more...I wouldn't have stopped her. Would have loved her to keep going.

I...I couldn't handle her. It was the first time that had ever happened.

And I found myself...intoxicated. Infatuated. I loved it.

Maybe all those guys being unavailable had been a blessing in disguise.

It had helped me discovered what I really wanted, to fill the void they'd left all summer.