One quality that Cheryl had inherited from her mother was a buoyant perseverance. The tougher things got, the harder she tried. Her tears and regrets were brief. The figurine was gone and with it the necklace worth three hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Her future was really in jeopardy now, unless the thief were Abby, who might've spotted her hiding the Gypsy.
Cheryl was too late for the breakfast, but she confronted Abby shortly afterwards. This morning the redhead looked at her shyly, with stars in her eyes. The sex encounter last-night was uppermost in her mind, it seemed. Cheryl acted toward her as if nothing had happened.
"That figure that sits in our hall outside the room, it's gone," said Cheryl.
"Good riddance," said Abby. "Somebody ought to get rid of Pepper too. I always hated those statues, or figurines, whatever they are. I don't like art that makes the human being ugly.”
There was no start of guilt or over-protest. Cheryl was sure Abby hadn't taken Salt. That put Cheryl deeper into trouble-she had to operate on two fronts now. Find Salt-and the necklace. Evade any questions about it, when Abby missed it. Abby was sure to miss it this morning.
Cheryl realized she might've done better to tackle Abby about it directly when she first signed up with the Delts. But then there'd been no evidence that Abby even had it. If Abby's boyfriend had it, she'd certainly lie to protect him. Last night was the first time Cheryl had seen it.
It didn't take much detective work to find out where Salt had gone. When Cheryl asked around discreetly, she struck pay dirt.
"Sure I saw Salt this morning," said Scotty Blair, a petite brunette, and a freshman, like she was. "That frat guy, Tom Talbot-he had it. He said he wanted it as a token of remembrance for the greatest surprise breakfast the Sigs ever had over here.”
So Tom had grabbed in, probably in sheer exuberance, on the way out of her room. He commemorated their sex. How ironic!
"Frankly, I didn't think the breakfast was that good," Scotty went on. "Those guys don't know much about scrambling eggs if you ask me. Almost burned.”
"Still that Talbot is a hot cowboy," said another. "If I could date that, I wouldn't worry about burned eggs.”
"A dream," sighed Scotty.
"Hey," said Cheryl. "We can't let the Sigs get away with that. Salt and Pepper are our property. A sort of-uh-landmark.”
"Ugghhhh," said Scotty.
"Yecchhhh," said another.
"Good riddance. Wish he'd taken Pepper too," laughed a third.
Cheryl felt better. If Tom Talbot had it, she could probably get it back easily enough. He probably hadn't even discovered the Gypsy. The hole in Salt was deep and she'd really crammed the necklace way up and tight. Maybe she could get it back today. Maybe the delay would only be for a few hours!
She dressed and got out of the Delta Rho house as soon as she could. She didn't want to answer any of Abby's questions this morning about missing jewelry. She called the Sig house from a public phone, but didn't reach Tom. The best she could do was reach his room-mate, a guy with a squeaky voice who identified himself as Spider Strawn.
She had a spot of trouble with Spider. Tom's roommate had a fast lip and a racy vocabulary. At last she drew out of him the fact that Tom was out for the day.
"Classes till noon, then he works at the Biology Lab in the afternoon," said Spider. "Why don't you come over this afternoon and we can kick around a coke before he arrives. He tells me you've got New York class.”
"Tell him I'll see him tonight," she said. "His place. It's important.”
"You're passing up heaven," said Spider. "Good looks aren't everything, Cheryl. I'm built like a pig. Mine's corkscrew-shaped and the girls love it.”
"I'll let you know if I get a leech for pork," she answered coolly and hung up. It would be best not to mention Salt until she saw Tom. He and his roommate might get curious and look inside.
She burned to get her hands on Salt, but forced herself to go to her Art Appreciation classes, then spent the rest of the day in the library and the Student Union building. It would be best to catch Tom alone, in his room, where Salt probably was…
She reached the Sig house about dusk and found it to be a beautiful old mansion, surrounded by trees and shrubs, warm and hospitable looking from the outside. Frat boys came in for the dinner hour and there were lights on the lower floors and muffled sounds of vigorous male voices as she tarried on the lawn. So many high animal spirits. In a way she hated to go in and face the gauntlet of all those male voices, bodies, staring eyes.
A young thin man drifted up from the campus and smiled shyly at her.
"Are you a Sig?" she asked before he could find some opening gambit.
"Yeah." His eyes drank in her beauty in appreciation. "Can I help.”
He was a nice, shy type, not one of those galloping monsters she'd seen go in, shouting and laughing.
"I'm-a girl friend of Tom Talbot's. I-I'd like to sneak into his room and leave his birthday present. Then I'll call him later and it'll knock him out. But I don't want to burrow through a crowd of guys, you know.”
The young man looked disappointed, but his eyes lit up. "Sure. That's his room, right up there, third floor, at the corner. By the big tree." The idea of sneaking in a present appealed to him. "Hey, if you're any good at climbing I'll bet you could go right up that oak. It has real big branches.”
"What?”
"Why not?" he said. "I'd give you a boost and you could walk to the window practically. Old Spider, Tom's roommate, does it all the time for kicks.”
She stared at the tree and the window. It could be opportunity knocking. She felt a pulse of excitement. She might even be able to get into the room, find Salt and leave again, no one the wiser. It looked like an easy climb.
"Okay. You give me a boost-uh-Mr.-”
"Harold. What's your name?”
"Uh, Abby." She took him by the arm and hustled him over to the tree. "Remember, don't tell anybody. Don't tell Tom especially.”
"Right, Abby. Good luck." He presented his bent knee and locked hands and she went up easily into the lowest branch.
"Don't bother to wait," she called down, delighted with the adventure. "Getting up's hard, but I can swing down all right.”
He nodded and waved, looking up at her, glasses shining. A very nice young man. He went on in to the Sigma house. It puzzled him that the girl didn't have a present with her, but maybe it was concealed about her person. More important, Harold was making points with Tom Talbot, who was a big man with the Sigs. Harold's position in the fraternity was not strong, so it helped to do Tom Talbot a favor…
Cheryl stepped from the thick tree branch onto the window ledge and entered the third floor room without any trouble, since it was open a few inches at the bottom. The room was empty, as her instincts had told her it would be. Tom had yet to return from campus and his job, while the roommate was either downstairs feeding his face, or off somewhere. No one in sororities or fraternities ever spent the dinner hour alone in an upstairs room; it was a social time.
The room was surprisingly like the one she shared with Abby at the Delt house, not only in size but in appearance. One side was neat and reserved, the other chaotic. There was a made bed, a work desk with books and papers neatly arranged, a bureau free of clutter and a closet with clothes carefully hung. It had to be Tom's side, because the other was marked by a crude poster on the wall: SPIDER'S WEB.
That side of the room was dominated by the most obscene poster Cheryl had ever seen-a blow up of two heads, a woman sucking off a man's cock. The girl's hair fell forward to conceal her features, but the thick cock, stiff and buried in the girl's mouth as she distended her lips, was all too clear. Cheryl felt a tingle down below. Crude but effective!
Her mind skipped over the rest-unmade bed with books on it, clutter on the floor, clutter on the second desk, clutter in the closet. Spider, apparently, never got his act together. There was no doubt as to what Spider's act was. Two crossed whips hung on one spot of the wall, bearing the legend: LOVE 'EM, LICK 'EM! Most fascinating of all was the row of small objects along the edge of Spider's desk. Cheryl had seen pictures of these objects, and, long ago, her mother kept one in her bureau.
Vibrators. Cock-shaped objects, made of plastic, four of them in a neat row. Cheryl felt another tingle in her cunt as she stared at the silent, still sex gadgets. Each was bigger than the last, both longer and thicker. The smallest was about four inches high and thin. The largest must be eight inches or more and fat.
With an effort Cheryl put her mind to the search of the room, looking for Salt. She heard the hum of life downstairs, while feeling no fear of interruption. The sound was almost lulling. She found it absorbing to dig into the contents of the boys' room, like taking a peek into their secret lives. The room reeked of maleness and she got a little dizzy, fantasizing what could happen to a poor cunt trapped in a place like this.
No Salt, She spent a good half hour turning, over every object in the room, looking under beds, into any spot large enough to conceal the stolen figurine. Absolutely no luck. Damn!
She ended up at the desk by the vibrators. Ugly things! Used only by older women whose husbands had lost interest in them, or unmarried, unloved and lonely older women. It would take the warped mind of a man to think up such a dumb imitation of one of life's finest objects-a living male prick! She looked inside each one but found nothing but batteries, of course. She turned on the base of the largest one and felt it vibrate and hum wickedly in her hand. My God, think of sticking something like that inside your body! Her whole belly tingled.
She made a pass with it between her legs and received a shocking, thrilling spike of delight as the machine burrowed against her cunt. Holy Maloney, it felt great even through her pants and panties.
Resolutely, she turned it off, put it back in its place, and heaved a sigh. She went to the window. She had no desire to be caught in Tom's room; he might get the wrong idea! She turned to look back over the room, hating to leave.
She went back to Spider's desk, picked up the smallest vibrator, and used it between her legs. The poor little four-inch thing was cute. It felt good, but nothing like the large one. She turned on two of them, holding one in each hand, and rubbed one on her cunt while pressing the other in her crack to tingle her asshole. Her pelvis automatically canted up and she undulated obscenely, gasping a little. Wow! These things really beat finger masturbation.
Wouldn't it be great to give herself a job without the boys knowing and slip on out the window. No-it would be better to do herself and leave something behind, some mysterious thing so they'd know a woman had been there-but not who. Her panties! Get 'em good and wet and drape 'em over the vibrator display.
Chuckling in delight, Cheryl stripped down her pants and tossed them aside. Playing a trick like this made the use of a vibrator on her flesh okay. Fun for her, fun for them later trying to figure out who the panties belonged to. But of course Harold would tell Tom. then Cheryl's face got a big grin. The name she'd given Harold had been "Abby" not her own! Beautiful!
She sat in Tom's big, comfortable leather chair and experimented. The six inch one was just about perfect. It slid suggestively between her golden thighs, pressing in to the sheer panties like a blind cock, seeking a pink girl slit.
"Just do your thing, honey," she whispered to the machine, "let mama do the rest.”
Each time she ran the humming, vibrating plastic cock over her pelvis and down she dug it a little deeper into the soft mass of her cuntal area.
"Ah-hoo-noooo-" she gasped as the buzzing devil made contact with her clit. "AH NOW, AH NOW. HEY!”
She turned it off and tried to catch her breath. It was like drag racing. You went from zero to a high sex feeling in twenty seconds flat. Her cunt was already swollen and running' rich syrup. The inside of her vagina, her belly, glowed, tingled and thrilled as sex desire and sex tension rose like a fast elevator.
She ooooozed her cunt against the vibrator with luscious, lascivious undulations, deliberately wetting her panties as she tried to suck the fake prick into her tunnel. Her vagina was sure ready for it! Her heart pounded and her breath was short as she worked and worked, getting higher and hotter.
"Aaaaggghhh," she called softly. "Fuck,-fuck.”
It thrilled her out of her skull even while she felt guilty in giving her sexuality up to a mere machine.
"What's-a nice machine like you-doing in a-hot cunt college-like this-" she gasped.
There, that would do. Her panties were soaked, clear from the waist down under to her buttocks. She stripped them off and tossed them on the desk to loop over the other vibrators.
She stood there half-naked, burning in bitch heat. Yet she didn't want to go all the way on an old woman's sex aid. That lacked class.
She unbuttoned her shirt and began to knead her breast. The itch and burn of her lust was too great to ignore. There was no shame in a finger well-used. She dug her finger into her eager cunt, servicing her clit and kneading her burning, sexed up nipples as she fell back in the chair.
"Go-go time!" she gasped.
It was no good. Lust itself lacked class and she burned to try out the plastic prick. With a cry of desire, feeling ashamed, she grabbed the vibrator and plunged it into her cunt. She drew in her breath in an erotic gasp as the white, rounded head of the machine violated her outer lips, found her clit, found her inside passage and burrowed into pink, sex-hungry tissues.
"AH, AH, AH," she gulped in thrilled satisfaction as the humming vibrator, moving fuck-wise in her hands, used her. "Oh, my God." Deeper, deeper into her, making her gasp as she opened her legs wider. She jogged it faster and began to hump and give hot, happy cries of rising delight…
Returning from his job in the Biology Lab, Tom Talbot stopped in surprise when he saw a light in his room. Spider, his roommate, couldn't be home-he worked in the Chemistry Lab nights, and he never missed. That meant that some sneaky Sig was up to some dirty trick. It was the price you paid for being popular. The guys were always working off some kind of practical joke on you. Tom raced around to the rear of the house and entered, ignoring the babble of sound from the dining room, and rushing silently up the back stairs. He meant to nail the bastards in the act.
He went into his room silently, and everything changed from anger into thrilled wonder as he crept up on the sight in the easy chair.
It was a girl, naked, and she was fucking herself with one of Spider's vibrators. Well, she wasn't entirely naked. Her shirt hung loose on her shoulders as she kneaded one of her breasts, but the rest of her was naked, with long legs spread out and loins moving. Her head thrust back, her eyes were closed. It wasn't just any girl, either. It was the vision that had danced in his head all day long, Abby's sexy roommate, Cheryl, who'd pulled his cock that morning.
She was a luscious sight, the tanned, beautiful body stretched in sex agony and delight, graceful belly and thighs working, soft muscles flexing, lovely legs extended. So open, so lustful, so beautiful. His cock came right up in his pants. He began to undress.
"I-I'm going to cum," the girl whispered in lascivious wonder, shaking her head from side to side and beginning to pant. "Oh, I've got to go.”
Tom was naked himself. He knelt before the girl and pulled her hand with the vibrator free of her cunt as she opened her eyes to stare at him in shocked disbelief.
"So cum," he gurgled.
He caught a flash of blonde pubic hairs, pink, swollen cunt and then slid her butt forward and aimed his big, hard cock.
"Oh, no!" she cried, trying to sit up.
Too late! The vibrator had loosened her vagina nicely for him and had whipped up a heavenly run of sweet girl juices. His cock notched her opening and slid right in, only to be grasped firmly by the young girl's tight passage as if her velvet tunnel was operated by a spring lock. She tensed against him with a cry of despair. He hugged her loins to his with a cry of delight. Living cock shot up into her vagina and claimed her.
"Naw, naw," she whined.
There was no escape. Not only did Tom hold her too tightly, but her own belly conspired against her in its mad desire to reach orgasm. She was so far gone into sex that the new friction of real cock meat captured her absolutely.
"Tom-I didn't-mean-" she managed in a broken voice.
"Do it!" he commanded, fucking happily into her tight cunt.
She stopped resisting. She slid her cunt forward and rocked on him, biting her lips, gasping, feeling the white-hot delicious turmoil in her belly gather into the stretched-out wonder of pre-orgasmic paralysis. Suddenly she had a vision of Abby's body, naked, with her cunt throbbing. The lesbian flash let her rush to orgasm.
"Ah, yeh, oooo," she went: Then: "Fuuuucked!”
Her cunt locked and began to spasm. Those powerful throbs unleashed fires in Tom's belly as he fucked faster and took her up and out over the edge into jerking, relieving throbs of spent girlhood. She fell back and then lifted again to spend some more, keening in animal pleasure.
"Feels… so… good," she went.
"Honey, I like this homecoming," he exulted. She was finishing her run, but he'd barely started his fuck.
"I. was just… I was just… " she apologized as her spasms tapered.
He put a hand on her lips. "Forget it, honey. You've finished, dear Cheryl. Let me do my-ahhh-thing.”
There was no way she could allow it. She'd been having a private party and suddenly a naked male appeared from nowhere and drove his cock into her cunt without a by-your-leave. It was Tom; Tom was sweet. He was handsome and well-hung but it was an inexcusable invasion of her privacy.
She gave a sudden, adroit jerk to uncock him. Then she quickly swung her legs over the arm of the chair and escaped. He gave a cry of disappointment. His powerful cock glistened on the outside with the sweetness of her private oils and glowed on the inside from the fabulous friction in her snug, young cunt. He lunged for her, but she ducked under his arm, reaching for her pants.
"I-I-just tried something-I didn't mean-" she stammered.
"You came here," he howled. "You slipped into my room to be with me.”
"No, Tom. I came for that little statue. The figurine in the hall of the Delta Rho house.”
"What?”
"Oh, you know. It looks like an oversized salt shaker, over a foot tall. We call it 'Salt'. You took it from the table in the hall this morning.”
He stared at her, trying to make the jump from the sexy sight of the girl, the spontaneous quick lock with her, to this mundane discussion of salt shakers. He looked ludicrous, standing there nonplussed with his big hard-on sticking up.
“The figurine, dammit," she said impatiently. "Don't stand there staring at me like a jackass. Where's the thing you stole.”
She saw his blush and realized at once she'd made a serious error. She couldn't fault herself. His theft of the statue had brought her here, not his charm, strong though it was. Then came the shock and shame of his discovery of her masturbating. An honest cowboy would've withdrawn and given her a warning instead of sneaking in on her. On top of that he tried to take advantage of her, plunging his cock into her when she was so high in lust she had no choice but to let his prick finish her off. Naturally she was shaken and angered when she recovered from her need for orgasm. He was like most of the guys she'd had sex with during her high school years. He could only think of the immediate needs of his prick, which strained in hunger for her cunt.
"I don't know anything about a statue," he said.
"Oh, noooo," she wailed. She stepped into her pants and pulled them up. "Tom, we have to talk.”
He saw her cunt, ripe and juicy, disappear inside of her pants.
"You uncocked me, you little bitch," he roared. "Nobody does that to Tom Talbot!”
He swung at her and she ducked with a scream. His eyes roved the room looking for a suitable instrument for punishment. There were those two crossed whips on the wall. They weren't full-sized bull whips, being smallish, only about three feet long, but they were real leather. As she scrambled for the window, he seized one of the whips and went for her.
"Whap". She took a stinging blow on the buttocks and jumped a foot from the searing pain.
"Tom!" she screamed.
"You had to cum-I helped you. Then you tried to hang me up, you New York crud!" he roared.
He whipped her again and she fled from the window, crying out in pain. Each blow cut cruelly into her buttocks, laying white hot fire on her ass, protected only by her tight slacks. Oh, her butt did hurt! Shocked, really scared now at his anger, she spun and ran into his arms.
"Tom, I'm really sorry. Don't hit me any more.”
"You were a jerk.”
"I was a jerk. I'm sorry.”
He shoved her down on his bed.
"Take off those pants.”
Crying a little now, scared, humiliated and angry in a chaos of emotions, she began to scoot out of her pants as fast as she'd scooted in to them. She had time to think ironically, "What would the people who see me as the cool, laid back New York wench think of me now?”
She realized now she was sure to be fucked. She had to make it up to him so he wouldn't lie about taking Salt. She had to soothe his bruised feelings about her not being here because he was a great lover, and for uncocking him. She'd be lucky if he let her off with a fuck and didn't whip her any more. Her ass really burned.
He helped her jerk her pants off and then he hopped on the bed.
"Spread 'em," he ordered.
She had no choice, did she? She spread her legs, beginning to feel a little snake of sex coil through her belly. So this was what it was like to be mauled by a man and raped. Almost raped. The idea of being submissive to a male seized her fancy. It was primitive stuff-man hits woman on the head with club and drags her into a cave.
"Don't-fuck me too roughly," she begged, half kidding and half meaning it.
He grunted and she felt him try to notch her. Unfortunately in the action, and his anger, he'd lost some of his hard-on, and his hose was too flexible to go in.
"Shit," he said.
She reached down and jacked him off, laving his prick with her cunt oils, which had run richly from his spanking of her bottom.
"It's all right," she soothed him. "It's all right. I insulted you, Tom." A rapist looks silly when he isn't quite hard enough, she thought. Fortunately, he firmed up now and notched her, with the help of her hand. His cock slid into her cunt easily, half its length on his first push, giving her a warm thrill. She realized she'd have to make it good for him, make it perfect, for his hurt feelings, for the necklace, for her entire future. She relaxed into her ball-bearing hip motion, matching his cock thrusts with full undulations of her lower body.
He sank down on her slowly, gathering her body to his nudity. She might as well be nude. She wore only her shirt, loose, breasts revealed. Her panties were over on Spider's desk. Her jeans were off and her shoes and socks over by the window. He had it all, and she took his weight with a thrilled sensation of being completely possessed. His driving cock meant business, utter, serious fucking as he reamed in and out of her.
She was hot, too. The ride with the vibrator had heated her up for further sex action. On top of that, the butt-whipping he'd given her had made her bottom glow and increased her feminine desire to submit to hot, impaling male cock.
"Ah, Cher-illlll. sexxxy," he moaned.
"I love it, I love it," she murmured.
She'd always had a problem at the start of sex with a boy. Some deep sense of privacy made her unwilling to admit a prick into her belly, so close to her baby-making womb, even if the pill protected her. The boys who knew her best learned to indulge in long sex play before taking her.
The vibrator and the whip marvelously shortened her need for foreplay. She rocked happily on Toni's cock now, satisfied to accept his violation, even if she hadn't wanted to. As she thrilled higher and higher, she decided this was going to be good sex for another reason. The wildness of this action would surely cure her of her hang-up. After the exotic and erotic cunt run on the vibrator alone in the boys' room, and after the sudden appearance of Tom and quick thrust of his prick to bring her-not to mention that sexy whipping-she was sure to have a different kind of orgasm. A normal one. If normal sex resulted in abnormal orgasm, then it followed that abnormal conditions would produce the opposite.
She felt, creamy, submissive, open. If a man caught a woman just after orgasm, she was a sure bet for a second. Men's lusts vanished with hot, liquid spurts. Women sank more slowly out of lust, like feathers floating down.
"Tom-It's so great, fabulous. I guess spider gave you my message. All those lies about salt… I really wanted to come to your room.
"I-I-I-" he said, and his eyes bugged.
He was ready to juice; she wasn't. She realized with a shock that he'd been pumping lustfully into her cunt steadily for three or four minutes and his cock was sensitized toward bursting. He had sensitized her thighs, buttocks and belly. But the delicious thermometer in her spine, where the red passion rose slowly to join the tingling flow from her eager nipples… it hadn't risen high enough yet.
She wanted earnestly and desperately to cum with him. She must explode with him. Otherwise he wouldn't believe her lie that she'd come here for cock, as she'd said a moment ago. Damn! Why didn't her body respond to her feelings, like most people's?
He began to keen in the final throes. He lost strokes; his breathing became erratic.
"Oh, Cheryllllll, making you, fu-fucking you," he gasped.
She went under then, as she always had to do. She filled her mind with the picture of a woman's naked cunt, swelling, boiling at her mouth and soft thighs closing on her ears. She made herself hear strangled gentle cries of feminine joy-distress. The thermometer in her backbone immediately shot up to overload and she stiffened in the ineffable joy of orgasmic relief. A deep, clear picture of Abby's voluptuous body straining in cunt ecstasy finished her off.
"Tom-I-oh, my God.”
Right up to the peak, just as he froze and cried out.
"Oh! Oh! Oh!”
He unloaded his maleness into her in hot jets of sperm, whining a little at the surging pleasure as his equipment spumed. She felt his powerful contractions as he seeded her and at the same time, holding the lesbian picture in her mind, she met him, throb for spurt. Her cunt squeezed forcefully on his spending cock, and their bodies locked in crazed jerks of joy at a perfect double orgasm.
By the time his cock tapered to lesser runs, he nibbled at her neck and cooed his love for her. She felt the warmth, the closeness and the euphoria of her release, and yet she bottomed out to an immense sadness. Her hang-up was there, as strong as before. If she hadn't invoked the vision of girl fucking, she couldn't have matched his orgasm. She might not have even reached orgasm. Doomed, doomed, doomed.
It didn't help much when he, softened by his luscious fuck in her, admitted that, yes, he'd taken the figurine she called "Salt". But he didn't have it any longer. He'd given it to his roommate, Spider, who had carted it off to the Chemistry Lab where Spider worked. Spider had been looking for just such a container as that. Tom said he'd felt foolish in grabbing the darned thing in his exuberance that morning.
"I wanted a token of our fabulous time this morning," said Tom. "That was the best wakeup breakfast I was ever at. But the thing was too ugly to symbolize my deep love feelings for you, honey. I had to get rid of it… ”