Peter

Izzy gazed across the lawn, watching Peter.

She gazed a bit longer.

And a bit more.

…

“Earth to Ditzy?”, said Jordyn, snapping her out of it.

She glared at him and grumbled, “Not my name…”

“Could’ve fooled me”, he teased. “I take it the answer’s Peter, then? Going to leave the God-botherer high and dry?”

“It’s not my fault if she’s not willing to admit that she wants it...”

Jordyn shrugged, then leaned back, putting his hands behind his head. “Hey, your call. Honestly, I think it’s kinda funny if you leave her soaking and squirming.”

Izzy sighed, looking down at her roommate. There was no doubt the girl was pent up. You didn't stare at shirtless guys the way she'd been if you weren't. Izzy felt for her; she'd known that sort of desperation, and she couldn't imagine having to deal with that while also presumably adhering to some religious refusal to touch herself.

But, Izzy realized, that's not my responsibility. Gwen might come around to indulging herself—in fact, Izzy felt certain she would—and Izzy would gladly help her with that… but it wasn’t her job to start the process. Gwen could pursue that on her own time.

Izzy stood. For all her quiet musings, she felt twitchy and impatient; the way she often did when horny.

“Just… keep an eye on her”, she said to Jordyn, before trotting down the steps onto the grass.

The group around the fire looked up as Izzy neared. They all seemed older than her—upperclassmen, maybe even a couple grad students. They were a mix of character and appearance, but Izzy was focused on only one. She caught a couple smirks from the others as they traced the line of her eyes. Clearly this wasn’t the first time they’d seen someone come for Peter; possibly not even the first time tonight.

Swallowing her nerves, Izzy raised a hand in greeting, and squeaked a quick, “Hi.” The older students granted her a few nods and mumbled replies.

Feeling she’d fulfilled her social due, Izzy turned to Peter, and said, “Umm… you’re Peter, right? I’m Izzy.” She held out her hand, and hoped she didn’t look too pathetic. (Although… according to Jordyn, pathetic was exactly the prerequisite for hooking up with this guy, so maybe she shouldn’t be so worried…)

Peter took her hand in a quick dap while his eyes assessed her. It wasn’t hard to get a true feeling of her; she was flushed, and she squirmed slightly as she stood. He gave her a pitying smile, like he was looking at a bedraggled, rain-soaked lost puppy. It was a humiliating look to be given. Patronizing, superior.

Panty-soaking…

Her hand lingered on Peter’s.

The thud of wood was muffled by the rustle of thickly packed leaves as Peter pushed Izzy’s back against the shrub-lined fence. One heavy hand gripped her shoulder, the other her bare waist. They were concealed from Peter’s friends, just barely, by a poorly-cared-for row of garden plants (though the concealment was just a formality; there would be no doubt about what was going on back here.)

Peter pressed Izzy against the fence, drawing an excited whimper from her. She could smell him—his sweat, his musk—mixing with the evening air. He looked over her again, evaluating her lithe teenage body. He clearly wasn’t that impressed, which paradoxically only made Izzy wetter. Still, as far as Peter was concerned, he was just doing this for humanitarian reasons, so it didn’t matter how she looked. He leaned in and pressed a deep kiss into her lips.

Izzy melted. Electric current raced through her nerves, battering into her inflamed cunt. Before she could realize what was happening, before she could stop it, she felt herself twitch and spasm. A gush of girlcum stickied her shorts, and she trembled into Peter’s kiss, moaning helplessly.

He pulled back, looking first at her bright red face, then down at her soaked pants. He raised an eyebrow, and she flushed even deeper.

Seriously?! Cumming from just a kiss like she was a fucking virgin again?! She started trying to form an excuse, but the words died on her lips. There was no hope of salvaging any dignity here.

Instead, she started to hungrily fumble for Peter’s belt. Her shaking fingers found the clasp. Peter leaned over and kissed her again, forcing her to work the metal blind. Blessedly, she didn’t cum this time, but it did send such a jolt of pleasure through her little nymphomaniac body that she completely froze up, the buckle in her hand half-forgotten.

Peter pulled away from her slightly. With a firm hand on her smooth waist, he pushed her back slightly, and murmured, “Let me help you there…”

Reaching down with one hand, he started to undo his own belt. Izzy fidgeted with barely constrained excitement, cuntslime drooling into her already stained bottoms. She found herself wishing she’d worn panties.

His belt came free. He reached for his zip. Izzy squirted a tiny orgasm into her pants, gurgling with overexcitement.