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Lara, a pretty blond college student, bored with her everyday life, decides to participate in bisexual group sex as a way to satisfy her curiosity, as well as a way to gain acceptance with the popular art students she envies and wants to emulate.
On a lovely late fall afternoon, Lara was alone, the sun slanting in from the large windows of the studio classroom. She stepped back from the still life of fruit and flowers that she’d been working on for her Advanced Painting class and set down her brush. “It’s really coming along,” she mused, “But it could use some more…” Lara noticed, in her periphery, someone stopping behind her to notice her work.
It was the Graduate Assistant, the one everyone called “Che,” because of his strong resemblance to Che Guevara, all the way from his fatigue jackets, his goatee, his penchant for cigars and hand-rolled cigarettes – to his dark, smoldering intensity, who was lingering behind her. Lara stammered, turning towards him, suddenly shy from his rapt interest, “Wha …aa…t, do you… think?”
She met his gaze. He wasn’t looking at her painting.
“It’s too pretty,” he said flatly, his emphasis on “it”, eyeing her up and down, a teasing half smile on his lips. “I like it…rough…er.”
His eyes signaled that he might not be talking about… her painting. Lara felt herself blush, looking away, unable to meet his piercing gaze. Lara had been harboring a secret crush on him since she’d first spotted him last year, welding torch in hand, arguing with the dreaded Asshole Sculpture Professor. There was something about him. He was so mysterious, so different, darkly intense, so…intriguing.
Che hardly ever spoke to anyone, except the professors, and the professor’s favorite few, of which she was not. Art was her hobby, not her major, and most of her classmates, primarily the ones majoring in Art, didn’t bother to talk to her. She was a dilettante in their eyes, not a “real artist,” and she longed to be accepted by them.
Once…She’d even overheard someone remark snidely, “What’s she doing here? I suppose the prom queen’s looking for an easy credit.”
Lara’s cell phone chimed, breaking the silence. She turned away to answer it, and when she turned back, he was gone. The voice at the other end was her suite-mate, the ever- perky Allison. She started to breathlessly inform Lara of a frat party, which, “Is going to be the blowout of all time! Everyone’s gonna be there! We just have to go! It’s tomorrow…come on…let’s do it!”
Lara acquiesced, even though frat boys and frat boy parties were the last thing she felt like doing. She’d been doing, err, them, since freshman year. “Here we go again…” she sighed inwardly, “Ho-fuckin-hum.”
And so it was… another Saturday night, another house party, another keg, another round of loud, pointless, drunken conversation about the same old things with the same old loud, pointless drunken friends. Yawn.
Lara swung her feet down from her comfy spot on a battered couch and surveyed the chaotic scene around her, steadying herself. The place was packed, and she was buzzed, to be sure. “I’m going to find the can,” she announced to her friends, shouting over the blaring techno music, “Who needs a beer while I’m up? Don’t let anyone get my spot…I’ll be back in a few.”
Lara picked her way thorough the crowd, relieved to find there was no line for the bathroom, and shut the door behind her. The reflection that greeted her in the mirror had wide blue eyes that were a little bleary, a pretty face with high cheekbones and an upturned nose, blond hair that was long and straight. Lara posed, observing her reflection, and ran her fingers through her hair, adjusting her sweater, smoothing it over her tall, lithe, but curvy frame.
“Cripes, I’m wasted,” she mused, pulling down her jeans, and sat down to pee, sipping from her keg cup. The door flung open, and an arm, followed by a face, bolted in. It was that dark, arty girl Lara recognized from her Advanced Painting class. The mysteriously wildly popular one who seemed to know everyone from the art department, and who everyone seemed to love, one of the few students that Che deigned to talk to. The one that she often caught staring at her, the one who’s name was…Ashley? Was that it?
“Whoops, sorry.” The girl trilled, “I thought it was empty. As long as I’m here…mind if I fix my face?”
“Not unless you mind me peeing. We’re all girls here, right?” Lara replied, smiling, “Go right ahead. So, great party, eh?”
“Not bad, not bad. For a bunch of frat boys, anyway. The beer’s cold. The guys are cute, for a bunch of jocks. And I’m drunk.” Dark Arty Girl pouted into the mirror and reapplied her red lipstick. She was dressed in black jeans, thigh-high black boots, and a tight black turtleneck sweater, her eyes darkly lined, her makeup perfect. Lara thought she looked like a pin up girl, partly goth, but sexier. Sexy Dangerous. Like …that one, you know? Betty Page? That was it.
Lara finished, rose from the toilet, and hastily pulled up her jeans. casino siteleri She couldn’t help but notice Dark Arty Girl stealing a sideways glance as she did, and smiling slyly.
“Damn… girl, those boots are…bangin’,” Lara started, “Umm, got any Visine?” My contacts are killing me…Gee, I might be wasted or something, huh?” Lara cracked a sarcastic smile, “You’re… Ashley, right?”
Dark Arty Girl fished in her purse, “Yup, it’s Ashley. But everybody calls me Ash. And you’re… Lara? You’re in my Advanced Painting class. You do nice work. Isn’t that prof the most boring lecture-er ever? I mean, he’s got great ideas, but when he starts in talking about the creative process…whoa… oh…there it is … I’ve got some Murine…is that alright?”
“For reals,” Lara smiled into the mirror at Ashley, err, Ash, as she squeezed the drops into her eyes and blinked, replying, “Yeah, he gets a little repetitive. Kinda like this party. Same old, same old…”
“My thoughts exactly… Hey, did you want a cigarette or something? I’m going outside to smoke,” Ash smiled broadly, her dark eyes sparkling, “Come out and smoke with me. We can talk smack about the guys in the class. Or we can go get some coffee? We should ditch our friends, just to be bitches. I could use some food, my treat?” Her voice lowered with mock seriousness, “It’s not like I’m gonna rape you or anything…I’m a girl…”
“Hey, why not?” Lara grinned back into the mirror, flattered to finally talk to someone from her art class, “Shit. I’ll try anything…once. I’m up for it. This party blows.”
After a short, chilly walk to the College Hill, Lara and Ash arm in arm. “Just like the girls in Paris do, and I’ve been there,” she informed Lara, they settled into a booth at the all-night coffeehouse. Lara and Ashley bonded over black coffee, french fries with mayonnaise, Marlboro Reds, and giggly, gossipy chatter about their mutual classmates in the Art Department. Lara found out Ashley had hooked up with someone Lara went to high school with. He was a dick. Ashley found out that Lara had dated one of Ash’s old flames from the Theatre Department. He was a dick, too.
“A rather large dick, indeed,” Lara giggled, “If… you know what I mean!”
Ash shot back with a smirk, “And I do! He was a, erm, healthy boy!”
They drank coffee, smoked and talked for hours, the conversation never flagging. Lara was intrigued by Ash’s sexy, smoky good looks, her nonchalance, and the fact that she seemed to know…everybody, and their secrets, and she loved to share them. It was fun, flattering, making a new friend, especially one who seemed so interested in her. Ash’s conversation, her expressions were so flirtatious, almost …seductive? “No way…or could it?” Lara thought wickedly, certainly intrigued.
“Hey, it’s almost 4 o’clock,” Lara stood up, yawning, “I gotta go home. Maybe I’ll…see you tomorrow? We could go… shopping or something.”
“Come over to my house, I’ll cook you dinner,” Ashley replied, her eyes smiling an invitation, “It’s got to be better than that nasty dorm food. I promise. You can meet my roommates. You’ll like them, they’re pretty cool. You might have seen me with Jenni? She’s into ceramics. We could have… Italian? You can bring the wine?” Ash made a cute frowny-face, cooing, “Pretty please…”
Lara laughed, flattered at the invitation, saying, “I’d love to.”
“Goody goody!” Ashley jumped up and pulled Lara to her in a hug, “Let’s get us a cab.”
Plans were made, cell numbers exchanged, and after a short cab ride, which Ashley demanded to pay for, Lara got to her room, and after finding her suite-mates were out, laid down on her futon, grabbed a quilt, and snuggled in, thinking about her new, mysterious friend, with her dark, sexy eyes and seductive smiles.
Could she be interested in being…more than a friend? Lara had heard the rumours…art students were infamous for their predilections towards the…shall we say… avant-garde. Lara’s dickish friend from high school was now an art student, and…notoriously bi-sexual, and she’d slept with him…as had Ashley. Her wicked fantasies sent a familiar spark in motion, and her hand reached to her sex, softly, sleepily stroking.
Lara never had any shortage of hunky guys ready for sexual adventures. She loved guys. She loved sex. She loved the feel of men’s bodies, muscled and hard, but had often wondered, especially when she stroked her own soft, rounded curves, her hand slipping between her legs, what it would be like to touch another woman. How did it feel? How do they smell? How do they taste? The thought of another woman seemed so foreign, so forbidden, so taboo, almost unattainable.
Or was it? “Perhaps… I might be able to… find out,” she thought deliciously as she fell asleep, “Perhaps.”
The next evening Lara, her blond hair whipping in the wind, walked quickly in the crisp fall evening, the leaves blowing around her feet, hugging the newly-bought box of red wine to her chest. “Shouldn’t be too much farther,” she thought, checking the address slot oyna that Ash had scrawled on a napkin last night. The apartment, the top floor of a lovely, albeit somewhat shabby, old Victorian house appeared into view and Lara walked up the outside stairs and knocked.
Ash swung the door open and greeted her with a warm hug. “I knew you’d be early! Greetings from Casa Ash!” she said, smiling a welcome, “Come in and sit down. You’ve brought wine! What a sweetie!”
Lara smiled back and stepped into the apartment. It was painted in bold colors, reds and oranges, and decorated in an art student’s idea of a sort-of-Moroccan theme, with second-hand Persian rugs and lot of pillows, big ceramic pots, wall hangings, paintings and drawings everywhere. Ash took the box of wine and Lara’s hand and led her into the living room.
“This is my roommate, Jenni, I’m sure you’ve seen her before…” Ash waved toward the pretty, petite auburn-haired girl curled up on the couch and smiling slyly, “Oh, and Richard’s here somewhere…Hey, Richard, come out and greet our guest!”
Richard, thin and rock-star toned, long brown ringlets framing his sharp features, emerged from one of the bedrooms, shirtless, dressed in faded, paint-splattered jeans, and strode across the living room, extending his hand.
“This is Lara? J’approuve!” he said, smiling a crooked half-smile as he kissed Lara’s hand, “Ash, you weren’t exaggerating. She’s gorgeous. Nice work… So, when’s dinner?”
Ash replied, glancing sidelong at Richard, her eyebrow cocked, “Settle. It’ll be awhile. Let’s sit down and have some of this impressive vintage,” she started to open the box, “Oooh, last month! That was a great year!”
Ash, Jenni, Richard, and Lara sat down at the large kitchen table and began to sip wine from Jenni’s handmade stoneware goblets and the girls buzzed about, preparing the meal. The kitchen started to fill with lovely smells and the sounds of classical music from the stereo. They talked and drank, smoking hand-rolled cigarettes, discussing abstract expressionism, animal rights, Kafka, France, libertarian politics, local bands, and bad poetry.
Dinner was served, pasta, baguettes, and salad, organic, of course, and they took turns trading salacious stories about their professors and fellow students, laughing and joking. They all seemed quite taken with Lara, and she was flattered by their rapt attention. They were so different, much more interesting than her normal friends.
“They like me!” Lara thought happily, “This is so cool!”
After dinner, as they smoked yet another round of cigarettes, and poured yet another round of wine, Ash turned to Lara and suggested, “Lara, did you know that Richard is a fantastic portrait artist? He did all the ones you see hanging on the walls,” she waved her hand towards the living room, “Richard,” she intoned, “You should sketch her. She brought the wine. She’s our guest. It’s the least you could do.”
“Alright, alright, if you insist. Lara? Would you do me the honor?” Richard extended his hand and led Lara to the couch. He had her lay back on the pillows, placing her arm behind her head.
“Now tilt your face…there.” He pushed her chin towards the ceiling, and placed an apple in her other hand, sprawling it across a pillow. Richard’s hands positioned her, moving her slightly this way and that, “And bend your knee like this,” he spread her legs slightly, “And now… don’t move.”
He grabbed a pad and some charcoal and began drawing furiously. Jenni and Ash peered over his shoulder, murmuring their approval. Richard stopped drawing and with an impatient wave remarked, “Begone, wenches! To the kitchen with you! You’re disturbing the great artiste!”
Ash and Jenni disappeared into the kitchen, giggling and whispering while Richard finished his sketching, “There!” he exclaimed, signing the bottom with a flourish, “It is done! Lara, you can move now. Come, ma jolie… tell me…what do you think?”
Lara peered over Richard’s shoulder, and murmured, “Richard…It’s lovely. I’m so…flattered. Thank you!”
Ash and Jenni rushed in and voiced their approval, admiring the exquisite sketch.
“The likeness is stunning,” Jenni sighed. “He drew you as Aphrodite, see? With the apple in your hand?”
Richard had substituted her jeans and sweater for flowing classical drapery with her breasts bared and flowers in her hair, curving in Botticelli waves. “I hope you don’t mind if I took a bit of artistic liberty,” He smiled seductively at Lara, his eyes locking on hers, “This is the way I see you.”
“I’ll treasure it, thank you so much, Richard,” Lara breathed, noticing the way he was gazing at her, “I owe you, big time.”
Richard never removed his seductive gaze, and half-whispered, “Oh, I’m sure we can think of a way you can repay me…”
“I suppose…I sh…ould be going,” Lara stammered, suddenly a bit woozy, noticing the time. “I’ve got an 8 o’clock tomorrow…Macroeconomics, and there’s going to be a test. I should really get going.” Lara started for the door, canlı casino siteleri swerving a bit from the ample portions of wine from dinner. “I’ve really had such a great time…thanks for everything.”
Ash put her arm around Lara’s shoulder, steadying her, and cooed, “Lara, darling, we’re calling you a cab,” as she pulled her close. “We can’t let you walk home alone in your condition…besides, Jenni and I were talking and we had a great idea. I’ll walk you out and we’ll talk, okay?”
Ash led her down the steps, the November wind whirling around them. “So, Lara, me and Jenni were thinking,” Ash started, her voice purring, “We should throw you a party… I mean, we had such a wonderful time with you tonight, and Richard really likes you. You could be our guest of honor.”
“Sure, Ash,” Lara said, “We could do this again. I had an amazing time. You guys are really awesome.”
“Not a dinner party…actually,” Ash’s eyes twinkled mischievously, “One of our…special parties. The kind we have with our…bestest friends. I guess most people would call it…an…orgy. But that’s such a bourgeois term, is it not?”
“Nuh… uh, you’re…joking, right?” Lara giggled, “Very… funny!”
“No. I’m serious,” Ash wrapped her arm around Lara’s waist, pulling her close. “Me and Richard have been doing this for years. We started back when we were seniors in high school. It’s so amazing, you can do anything you want, nobody ever tells, you get your rocks off sooo good… what’s not to love? It’s very…liberating.”
Ash’s voice purred as she stared into Lara’s eyes, wide with surprise. “Please say yes…we’d have so much fun. We haven’t met such a beautiful girl as you in awhile…and besides, if you don’t like it, we’ll never bother you with it again. I mean… I can’t believe you didn’t know that this sort of thing is like, so…normal to most…artistic types…it’s just the way we…express ourselves.” Ash continued, her voice teasing, “And you can invite anyone you want. We’ll make sure that they…umm…come… many times! Please, say… yes?”
Ash smoothed Lara’s hair off her face, smiling slyly, looking deeply, playfully, into her eyes, “Hey, at least you can say you’ve been to a proper orgy… it’ll be a great story for your grandchildren. You did say… you’d try anything, once, didn’t you?”
“I…think…you’re…crazy,” Lara laughed. “Nobody…tells? Are you sure?”
“Cross my heart,” Ash grabbed Lara’s hand and crossed her heart with it, sliding Lara’s fingertips over her breasts, “Cross your heart.” Ash’s eyes, locked on Lara’s, issued a subtle challenge. “You could…touch me…if you wanted. I want to touch you… so badly.”
Lara heard herself say, as shivers ran through her at the thought of such wanton delights, “Okay. Lets…do it. So…can I really have…anyone I want?”
“If we know them, we can get them,” Ash smiled broadly, hugging Lara. “Is it a guy or a girl? Ooh, tell me, tell me!”
“I’d like…Che…I know he’s a friend of yours.” Lara breathed, “Could you get him to…come?”
“Indubitably!” Ash whispered back in Lara’s ear, “Very nice choice, if I must say. He’ll eat you up with a spoon…So, we’re on for Friday? About 8? I’ll see you in class on Wednesday, and we’ll talk. Oh! I’m so excited! This is gonna be so much fun! I think your cabs here…so,” Ash grabbed Lara’s face with her hands and kissed her mouth, her full lips brushing Lara’s lightly, and called, waving her away, “Au revoir! See you Wednesday in class!”
Lara settled back into the cab seat, studying her drawing. Had she really agreed…to… an orgy? How utterly decadent. Her mind reeled, imagining all the possibilities. She would be touched. She could touch. She could watch, be… watched. She imagined their hands, their mouths, their bodies pressed into hers. Her libido began to rise as she thought of Ash’s full soft lips and rounded breasts, her ample curves, Jenni’s slim, petite form, Richard’s sleek, toned, rock-star body.
And Che, with his dark, smoldering intensity and his powerfully muscled frame, poised, ready to take her with wild abandon. “They want… me,” she mused, smiling to herself, “Me.”
Che’s phone rang, yet again, and he checked the number, the third time in as many minutes, far too often for a Monday morning. “Richard! What the fuck does he want now?” he fumed inwardly, irritated at the interruption of his usual breakfast of espresso and cannabis, and answered.
“Richard! You glorious ass…what in the hell do want at this time of day? Shouldn’t you be banging something?”
“Che… my comrade, how are you this fine morning?” Richard purred, “And yes, I do have a glorious ass, thank you. Why am I calling? I need, no…demand… a favor.”
“Demand? What the fuck? It better be good, or I’m hanging up.” Che intoned, “It it some more of your usual debauchery?”
“Oh, Che, you flatter me,” Richard’s voice dripped with sarcasm and continued, “Your presence is requested at one of our little soiree’s this Friday, and the lass in question has had my every assurance that you will be there. So you will.” Richard murmured into the phone, “You won’t be disappointed. Remember, from each, according to his ability; to each, according to his need, eh, comrade?””
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