Christian College Sex Comedy: Part 28

Sandwiches?

In 30 parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the podcast at Explicit Novels.

Some masks hide who we are. Others show who we want to be

I could bowl Mercy over with a feather. Rio and I are doing the same social mechanics and come to the same conclusion. There are three reasons to marry a gay guy;

1. money,

2. social pressure and

3. camouflage.

Felicity doesn't need the money, so we simply assumed it to be number two. We totally missed the other reason; Felicity is a lesbian. Rio takes it in her slow and easy style. She walks up and puts Felicity in a gentle Mercy, Felicity, Rio sandwich.

"I am going to have so much fun breaking you in," Rio whispers affectionately to Felicity. "When you get good at it, I'll let you play with Mercy, she likes to be played with but you have to be firm. Do you like it firm and hard, my most favorite and annoying little Ass-Tramp?" Subtle like a freaking tsunami. Mercy recovers from her shock to nod her head vigorously.

"What about Barbie Lynn?" Felicity inquires with velvet hunger.

"She's Zane's," Rio informs her. Felicity looks a bit disappointed. "Zane shares her though, so don't expect her to fall in love with you," then leans in and up, "but you'll find out her lips, titties and ass are to die for. Now let's go back to my room and let me show you some things," Rio grins, looks over her shoulder and gives me a wink. Who's room?

Barbie Lynn pats my ass then skips after the trio.

"We are going to lube up Mercy and try out some of the basics," Rio instructs Felicity. "We'll see what intrigues you then I'll send you home with some toys to practice with and, well, loosen you up a bit. Mercy didn't become fantastic overnight. I had to work on her a lot. See, and the conversation is drowned out by the rest of the students on the floor.

No one has batted an eye about Mercy, Rio, and/or Felicity either. Maybe I really am the downfall of the Judeo-Christian tradition after all. Rio is taking responsibility for Mercy. Mercy just stepped out to the World as her true self, a tiny, tiny step anyway. Barbie Lynn is playing Dorm Mother in spades and in a manner way beyond the Handbook's job description.

Valarie, Vivian and Iona have gathered together then when Vivian finger-beckons me over. I saunter over to see what's going to go wrong with my life next, and if they have any Tribbles hiding there I'm going to burn the little bastards in the sink. That's not what brings me over.

"All the Advocate-candidates have been approached and agreed to serve," Vivian seems amused to inform me. "They want what little ceremony exists to be performed and the Advocates sworn in at 9pm."

"Has someone worked on an Oath of Office," I groan. 'To one's self be true', what else can I say?

"It seems some of the prelaw students actually had a little contest and they've put something together," Vivian smiles warmly. "It has been downloaded to your phone, it is under Advocate Oath of Office."

"Why are you being such a smart ass?" I look her over. "Hasn't my day been bad enough?"

"Zane, have you seen your phone log for the past twelve hours?" Vivian asks me. I have been ignoring my phone, in fact. I check it now and I bless those hard working Taiwanese and the huge memory capacity they've put in my global lifeline; otherwise my phone would have melted down hours ago.

Fuck, I have phone calls from people I don't even know, who live in, France, Germany, Brazil and Belarus? I rack my mind to remember where Belarus is, blonde-haired, blue eyed Slavic ladies, now I know! The viewing of Star Trek humiliations seem to be universal but at least they don't know my name or face. There is some serious Time Lord Mafia paddling over this one. They've used my damn private phone number.

"When do you think you'll talk to Rio," Iona asks cautiously.

"I'll take care of that right now, while she's feeling happy and playful," I comfort Iona. "Besides, it could be worse; everyone is looking for a pudgy Sasquatch, not me." The three ladies all stare at me. "Oh fuck," I groan.

"Well," Vivian looks away (oh hell), "the footage sort of shows you taking a shower plus your name and phone number."

"But your transformation into is a fur-ball is truly precious," Valarie comforts/mocks me. "All my gal-pals out West think you are so cute; Phoenix, one of my Mom's jailbird friends, even used the 'too cute' emoticon and I didn't even think she knew what emoticons were. She sent it to all her buds still in lock-up too."

"Great, I'm popular in a women's correctional facility, at least it is in another state," I sigh upward. I pray to God that never becomes relevant. "Hell, I have a housewife in Belarus she wants me as a house pet."

"What does she look like?" Valarie seems curious.

"How would I know?" I am somewhat offended. Valarie takes my phone but I don't resist too much. She scrolls a bit then hits the number. "Don't call her," I bark. Valarie laughs then hands me my phone back.

She shows me the 'entirety' of the girl's message. Nice bikini, or what there is of it and I can't imagine it being too practical that far north. She is divorced, with a one year old son, 22 years old and fresh out of college with a job as a PR specialist for a real estate development firm. She also speaks seven freaking languages, I feel like such an underachiever right now, or male underwear model.

Maybe I'll make her a pen pal ~ she's a half a world away. I should be safe. Right now I can't play it safe though; I have to go play with Rio and I know that violates my health insurance under the 'feeding dangerous animals' clause.

"Zane," Iona offers to take my phone so I give it to her (why should I distrust her right?). Her delicate little fingers fly across it then she hands it back. "You now have a fifteen minute warning," she is trying to be helpful.

"Paige seems to have vanished," I request, "so when you see her, tell her to give us some peace please." The three of the saner women I know give me a nod.

I round the final screen and there is my sleeping platform. Barbie Lynn and Felicity are examining a stunning large collection of sexual aids (that my credit card must have paid for), which Rio is sedately explaining to them, sort of what you would expect from a Mary Kay or Avon saleswomen. Mercy is bent over the bed, pushing up her ass by standing on her toes, skirt and panties gone and surreptitiously undoing her blouse buttons when she thinks Rio isn't looking.

Mercy even flashes a precious grin my way when she sees me. It is the 'Weeee! I'm about to get fucked' look. While amiably chatting away, Rio puts her hand over one of Felicity's hands and leads it over to Mercy's flank. Felicity puts up a token resistance.

"Do that again and it will cost you," Rio purrs. Felicity stares at Rio's feral nature, seeing her truly for the first time then obeys. "Good girl," Rio coos in Felicity's ear.

That reminds me what I've forgotten to do today, the air filters. I look around the various wardrobes for some sort of precision tool like a baseball bat, crowbar, sledgehammer, fire axe or chainsaw, I have a cricket bat? What the hell am I doing with a cricket bat? Isn't that the National sport of India; is it even played on this continent? It may be one of a kind; I'll spare it.

"Zane!" Rio snaps. Apparently she's been calling my name for a second or two.

"Yeah Bro, what do you need?" I answer. I'm not being attacked by someone so she must need something from me.

"Felicity is self-conscious about being naked in front of us girls," Rio grins. "Could you pick out a swimsuit for her that is conservative and demur?" In Rio-speak that means three small circle Band-Aids and some dental floss.

"What color would you like Felicity?" I ask. She says white; I groan because when you sweat/drip on white it becomes translucent. Maybe she's teasing m...