College Lesbian Bondage by Aster Zhen Page B

Fielding’s face when she looked over our sample test.
    “I’m done,” I said, pushing away from the computer. I wasn’t sure how to tell Alice that I wanted a new lab partner.
    “You almost had too many errors,” Alice complained, pushing her glasses up as she stared at the screen. “I removed the first few results since they were outliers and you weren’t really paying attention. Anyway, that’s my hypothesis confirmed.”
    “Look Alice, maybe we should—” I paused. “Wait. What hypothesis?”
    She stared at me, then burst out laughing. “Did you really think that this was our real project?” she asked, waving at the folder containing her pornographic pics. “Please. I thought we’d do a study on alcohol addiction. Safe and easy.”
    “But why did you—why bother—” I stammered. She gazed at me from behind her glasses, and I could see my reflection, the stricken look on my face. I lunged for the mouse. “Let me see those results!”
    She made room for me on the chair. “Be my guest.”
    I looked at the numbers. Several people were listed in her database, some of them names that I recognized from college. Compared to the others, my results were within normal range, though I’d shown a slight unconscious preference for women in the test. I breathed a sigh of relief. “See? That’s just normal. Of course everyone thinks women are prettier than men—the media, advertizing—”
    “If I’d wanted to show you a pretty face, then I’d have shown you a pretty face, not cunts and tits. Those other women on the list are all flaming homos,” Alice said, her tone making it a compliment rather than a slur. “So what are you?”
    I met her gaze. Squashed on the same chair, we were uncomfortably close. I was aware of the heat of her thigh through my jeans, her hand resting on my knee. “Why do you care?” I shot back at her.
    “Because you’re denying yourself.”
    I scowled. “I’m not denying anything—mphf!”
    She grabbed me by the back of the head, pulling me down for a kiss. I was a full head taller than her so it was slightly awkward, but she didn’t seem to care. Her lips were incredibly soft, and I found myself giving in, greedily wanting more.
    She broke off and pulled back, leaving me dry. I put my hand to my mouth as if to wipe away her taste.
    “Was that your first?” she asked. Her fingers trailed over my thigh.
    God, I was so embarrassed. I’d had boyfriends before but they’d never lasted very long. The latest one had wanted a threesome with my best friend, Debra, but I’d laughingly turned him down. He’d ended up with Debbie anyway. Was that what I’d feared? Or had it been the thought of wanting her more than I’d wanted him?
    Alice stood up and took me by the hand. “Come on,” she said, and I blindly followed her to the bed. We both sat down.
    “I’m not sure if—”
    “You can stop at any time, just say so,” she said, and leaned in for another kiss. This time I was allowed to kiss her as much as I wanted to (and oh, how I wanted to!) Her perfume smelled woody and dark, with a musky undertone. It was both different and exactly the same as any other kiss.
    I broke for air and laughed, incredulous at what I’d just done. She curled her fingers in my hair and kissed my neck, working her way down to my collarbone. I groaned. She pressed against me, her breasts brushing against my own. I groped through her shirt, feeling the wire edge of her bra. Damn.
    “Would you like to touch them?” she asked, grinning.
    I nodded, afraid to speak, afraid that I would somehow fuck this up. I had no idea what I was doing. I mean—shit.
    Alice pulled her sweater over her head. She had gorgeous, perky breasts, just big enough to fit in my hands.
    “Help me,” she said.
    I reached towards her back. She swatted me on the wrist.
    “Just one hand.”
    I tried again. It was actually really hard to unhook a bra on someone else, especially when you were used to doing it on yourself;