SSS 2 - Bedtime

Your plan worked, of course. Colby is easily transformed into a gooey puddle of love and affection, and her sensible, functional brain is always slow to come back. Under the sheets, her instincts have taken over her mind as she basks in the afterglow. With very little self-awareness, she snuggles, nuzzles, and kisses you softly, hugging you close like a body pillow.

It’s this naked adoration that she shows that makes you doubt some of your choices, but you’re in pretty deep. You stroke her hair, kiss her lips, and wait patiently as she regains her senses. You know that she has when you feel one of her smooth legs pushing gently against yours as you lie facing each other. You agreeably part your legs and let her move closer to feel how hot you are down there.

Now that she knows, you feel her soft fingers on your skin. She has her head tucked into your neck. She still can’t make eye contact for something like this, and you accommodate that. You help her out with peeling your panties off.

You sigh into her blonde hair as her hesitant fingers dip between your legs. It’s not that Colby doesn’t know what to do, but there’s a part of her that’s still caught up in the novelty of being with another girl. Sometimes you can sense her fascination when she touches you. She could tease your clit or hammer it. She could go deep inside to really make you squirm. There are so many things that she could do with that hand.

But she always ends up gently groping you without an agenda, like a shy teenage boy on his first try. She’ll slide a finger inside, then pull it out and find your clit before going back to caressing your vulva. It feels good, but it can also be maddening.

In the end, you help her out a little by gently guiding her wrist and adding a little participation of your own. And of course she suddenly wants to look right at you when you cum, then cover your face and neck in kisses as you ride it out.

Then she’ll proudly wrap her arms around you and cling smugly as though it was all her idea. You don’t mind any of it. It’s a terrible sleeping position for you, but Colby has no bones or joints. She’s like the human equivalent of a cat that can fit in a cereal bowl. She can sleep in any position if she’s happy enough, and she’s certainly happy tonight.

You manage to at least turn off the lamp, then you hold her in the dark, talking quietly. She’s not wrong. You haven’t seen much of each other lately. It feels more like catching up than a normal conversation. You need to make more time for her.

As you have that thought, you are reminded that you walked away from an open laptop and unfinished work. There’s so much to do. You aren’t just the president of CCL; you’re taking 18 hours a semester, and the Gurlberg campus is well-known for its business program. The combo of CCL and a high-powered business degree is what brings all so many go-getter women to this… not-great little town in Central Florida.

Your phone goes off.

“Get it in the morning, baby,” Colby says muzzily.

“Yeah,” you agree, absently rubbing her back.

It goes off again. Then again.

Then about ten more times. You sigh and roll over to grab it. The screen is bright in the dark room. You frown at the texts you are receiving. It’s just a lot of peach emojis. You don’t recognize the number.

“That better not be a booty call from some other girl,” Colby warns.

“It’s not,” you reply, puzzled. She squirms in to look.

“You kidding?”

“No. I don’t know this number.”

Colby frowns. She can see that you’re confused. Colby isn’t quite as deep in CCL culture as you are. She is, of course, aware of recent events just like everyone else. But she doesn’t make the immediate connection as far as the significance of this particular emoji.

You sit up, troubled.

Several more peach emojis arrive.

“It’s just spam,” Colby says. “Block it.”

You aren’t so sure.

Call the number?

Or reply by text?