Paula Cash - Closet Queen

Cheryl Wallace slipped off of her bed as soon as she heard her roommate's voice in the hallway. There was another whispering voice, that of a male. That was Abby, breaking the sorority rules by sneaking a man to her room late at night. The free mixing of the sexes was tolerated by the university in the dormitories, but the Delta Rho Sigraa Sorority did not tolerate it. It was just like the redhead from Chicago to risk breaking rules. In fact, it was Abby's wildness that had brought Cheryl here to Brighton University in the Midwest, changing her lifestyle and almost ruining Cheryl's father.

Right now Cheryl had one goal in life: to undo the damage that her roommate had done.

From the bed Cheryl slipped to the closet and inside to hide. Tonight Abby wore the necklace that Cheryl had to steal back from her to solve the Wallace family problems. With luck, Cheryl would get that necklace tonight, fly back to New York, then end her miserable existence at Brighton and the Delta Rho house.

Cheryl left a crack of the closet door open so she could survey the room. Everything looked quite normal, the bedside lamp on Abby's side of the room illuminating her messy domain and another on the beside of Cheryl's bed, showing Cheryl's neat living space. The door opened to admit Abby and her date of the evening. Cheryl gave the young man only a glance. He was Tom Something-or-other from one of the fraternities. He was a handsome blonde with a great body, but Cheryl had her mind on other matters.

The necklace glittered in the soft light around Abby's graceful white throat. It was garish, an interlacing of red and blue gems with a yellow jewel pendant in the middle. It was of poor design with gold settings, so the riot of color made it primitive, sensual and too gaudy. Obviously it was camp costume jewelry-until you really looked at it and were puzzled by the powerful glow of the gems. They were all real, rubies, sapphires and a yellow diamond in the middle. It was important enough to have its own name "The Gypsy". It had been designed for an Arabian oil minister who had tired of being chided about it and had sold it. It was worth three hundred and fifty thousand dollars.

Abby didn't know that. Nobody around here did. Abby thought it was worth about twenty thousand and, even so, had her Chicago boy-friend steal it from Cheryl's father.

Abby's graceful throat, her pure white skin, her beautiful face, stirred Cheryl deeply as always. Cheryl responded to Abby's voluptuous body in a secret leech. Up above was the long cascade of rich red hair, lovely blue eyes and a sensual, good-humored mouth that could curve into an innocent smile or quirk suggestively, Abby's breasts were perfectly round and high, a peasant's beauties, full and firm. Her hips were rich, her thighs and legs elegantly curved. Young men dug Abby and she dug them: she was a campus bombshell and a leader among the Delta Rho's. Other girls might approach her with equal charms, but her finely textured skin was incredible.

Cheryl felt her belly heat as she watched her roommate move. Tonight Abby had worn a satin blouse open almost to her navel to better display the Gypsy. Her dress slacks were lace-fringed and tight. She swayed sensually as she kidded Tom who was, of course, drooling.

"Just a goodnight kiss, lover, and then you leave," said Abby.

"Oh, God, I'm crazy for you, Abby-crazeee," murmured Tom, reaching for all those goodies.

Laughing, Abby swayed out of his reach.

"I've already broken house rules to let you come to my room. I thought my roomie would be back from her date to protect me. But she isn't, so you'll have to go.”

Tom made a lurch for her, but Abby spun away and at the same lime took off the necklace and tossed it negligently on her bureau. From the closet, Cheryl's hot eyes followed it. Then she held her breath; Abby started for the closet. Tom intercepted her. They stood not six feet away from Cheryl and her crack in the door as Tom took his first kiss. One of his hands kneaded Abby's magnificent breast as they clung together. Cheryl felt a hot spike of desire. Her own sex life was as messed up as Abby's side of the room. Cheryl had had sex in high school-enough to know how doomed she was. She could only have an orgasm with a man if she fantasized having sex with a woman-like Abby.

Cheryl was terribly ashamed of her hang-up. Imagine what a guy would think if he knew that when she came she had to think about female loins, twining and twisting. Worse, what would women think-especially Cheryl's sorority sisters-if they knew she had that problem? What would Abby think? My God, they'd call her a lesbian!

Cheryl had never had sex with a girl. It had all been with guys, but every time when she got hot enough to cum she had to fantasize her mouth fixed on some pretty girl's steaming cunt, or a long-haired female sucking her to glory.

Tom was a fast worker. Already he had a hand inside of Abby's bra. The big-breasted girl had to wear bras when her blouse was so open, but tonight it didn't stop Tom. He pushed up the bra and palmed the rich elegance of Abby's tit. Instead of stopping him, sexy Abby laughed a pleased laugh deep in her throat and shifted so he could get at that naked breast.

"I thought you were going to stop with a kiss only," Abby teased him.

"Oh, Abby!" breathed Tom.

Cheryl could see it all, Abby's naked breast gleaming erotically in the dim light, the big innocent center, and the flint tip of her nipple. What an exquisite breast. Cheryl felt her breath go short and slid her hand between her legs. Tom began to suck Abby's nipple, holding the weight of the gorgeous peak with his eager hand. Cheryl could imagine the fantastic hard-on he got from savoring that warm, naked breast, stroking that silken skin of Abby's. Cheryl's empty hand clutched in empathy. How terrific it would be to fondle that shapely sex object.

Cheryl felt light-headed in her sex rush. Why, she bet she could drive Abby to orgasm with her tongue, teeth and hands on those breasts. Men didn't know how to do it, but, wow! Cheryl's own breasts burned in excitement.

The lovers kissed again right in front of her, and she saw pink tongues twisting and the wet flash of honey saliva as open mouths teased and merged, Tom's hand again busy at Abby's breast. In a minute he was going to really start feeling Abby up and after that he had two beds to choose from, thought Cheryl. She thrilled up and down her spine. What if she got to actually see the boy and her roommate fucking? That would be wild. She dug her finger boldly into her cunt, reveling in the lascivious sight, her hand reaching her steaming clitoris. Her slacks would get wet, but it wouldn't be the first time in the past month that she'd whipped herself to fury and warmed her crotch with happy girl juice. Stuck in the sorority with Abby and the other good-looking sisters, she had to manage her lust as best she could. There was no point in having boyfriends. She didn't plan to be at Brighton that long.

It was such a shame. A sorority was the last place a girl with her hang-up ought to be, but she had to be here. Nor did she dare approach Abby or the other girls. Her father was a highly visible alumnus who sat on boards and knew the president. Imagine his shame if the daughter of prominent alumnus John B. Wallace were thrown out of Brighton for lesbian activities!

It was going to be one of those stormy kisses, Cheryl saw Tom's hand, temporarily sated with breast-fondling, slid down under Abby's rounded buttocks to dig for her cunt. Cheryl leaned back among the clothes, masturbating faster, twisting her pelvis for rich hand action. The wanton Abby did exactly the same thing for Tom, letting him stroke between her legs. Abby must be wild for sex. She'd told Cheryl she'd broken up with her Chicago boyfriend just before coming to Brighton in Iowa for the fall term. A girl like Abby, used to plenty of hot loving, could get horny in a month, believe it!