Chapter 1

These seven chapters form a standalone story - but include characters and settings from other stories. See this post on the forum for details. You do not have to read the earlier stories to follow this one, but you might find it more enjoyable if you see the windows into the girls' pasts in Breakout and Step-Something. Margot is only present in the first scene of Breakout (plus a few ironic references) while Heather occupies the whole of the third section of Step-Something (Party Favors through Interlude III).

Emma caught my eye and I grinned. She returned my smile, and I headed over to her table. She was sitting alone. The last time I'd seen her, she'd taken me home for a memorable evening. Maybe she'd like to reprise the occasion. The evening seemed to be looking up.

But as I approached her, a girl appeared from the crowd around the bar and moved to set a drink in front of Emma before taking a seat beside her. She was shorter than me, with a narrow frame and understated cleavage. I recognized her, though it took me the last few seconds to reach their table before I could get her name.

"Hey, Emma," I said, with a smile. "And Tiffany, right?" I asked the hazel-eyed girl. "I hope you're here to tell me you reconsidered my offer?"

Her eyes went wide, and her face took on a rosy hue. "Tiff, please," she said, "but no. I, uh, don't need help. I already crossed over. I'm here with my g... girlfriend."

She had trouble with the word,as if the concept was still new to her. I glanced over to Emma, who was beaming proudly at her. "I... see," I said. "Well, fuck. Both of you off the market, and one I didn't even have a chance with." I grinned broadly, to let them know I wasn't upset. Though I was disappointed that I was out of luck for a repeat performance with Emma. That had been a pretty spectacular evening. Well, night, really. Being late to class was never so satisfyingly justified. "But I'm being rude," I added. "Congratulations, Tiff! I'm happy for you."

"Thanks, Margot," she said. "Can I get you a drink?"

I shook my head. "I'll pick something up later." The bar only served soft drinks on Monday. Later in the week they'd have alcohol, but also an age 21 admittance, with strict ID checks. "Will you dance with me, at least? To help me overcome my heartbreak?"

Tiff glanced at Emma before smiling her agreement, and I took her hand.

We danced close. Not intimately close, but comfortably within each other's personal space, for two songs, before I returned her to her table. Her movements were sensuous, and I was pretty convinced that she and Emma would be having epic sex.

Ah, well. More power to them.

When we returned to Emma, I was going to ask her for a dance, but someone else was at the table.

I recognized Anita, though she hadn't been at the club in a while. Shorter than Tiff or Emma, with long black hair and Asian features. I offered her a drink, then made my way to the bar to get her an orange soda, with a cranberry tea for myself.


It transpired that Anita was recovering from a stressful relationship, which had kept her away from the socials. We danced, including slow dances, and she hesitated only briefly before accepting my invitation for coffee. Which both of us knew was not just for coffee.

Anita had a reputation as being a particularly passionate lover. We'd never chanced to get together, largely because she tended to be in high demand, and it was my fortune that Emma had caught her eye, and that she and Tiff were already paired up. But I had no idea what to expect.

Kissing her soon convinced me that the rumors had some basis in fact. She teased my lips, breathing softly against them, while her fingers skimmed over my breasts, delicately hinting at promises of results that she would deliver. I was wet and desperate for her before we'd removed a single item of clothing. I had the impression that she could have made me come just from her light touch while kissing, had she wanted.

She undressed me slowly, her tongue tracing newly uncovered skin. I was so turned on that I began to kiss her small breasts as soon as I'd gotten her shirt off, not waiting to finish undressing her.

I pushed her back onto the bed. Her long hair spread out on my sheet as I sucked her nipples, my fingers slipping inside her panties. She groaned as I touched her clit, then panted rapidly, her breathing growing increasingly rapid until her back arched and she moaned.

Anita's face, flushed in ecstasy, framed by her dark hair was one of the most beautiful sights I'd ever witnessed.

When she went down on me, she took so long bringing me to climax that I was a quivering ball of need before she finally granted me release. And once she'd taken me there, she was relentless, bringing me to two more orgasms before she moved to my breast.

Leaving one finger on my clit she lapped hard until I cried out, squirming with a fourth climax. Then our mouths and bodies joined, and we took each other to that place of wonder one more time.

We curled up together. I caught Anita up with gossip about mutual friends, while she shared what went wrong in her relationship, and why she was strictly casual for the foreseeable future. As was I, of course.

When she dressed to leave, a little after two in the morning, she said, "We should do this again, soon."

I agreed, though I suspected it wouldn't be soon. I understood now why she had such a positive reputation. I thanked fate that she'd wanted to catch up with Emma. I suspected she'd been intrigued that Emma had acquired a girlfriend out of nowhere.

Ironically, though, the quality of the sex left me despondent. I started thinking about Emma and Tiff and how it didn't have to be just a random encounter for them. Making love to Anita had been every bit as exciting as her lithe body had promised, but it was over, and if it ever happened again it could be months from now, where Tiff and Emma not only got to enjoy each other whenever they chose, they got to wake up together, snuggle, and be with each other out of bed. Wouldn't that be something?

Or would it? What if the sex wasn't that great? Now they didn't have the freedom to find other options. How would it be to have mediocre sex just for the snuggling and partner privileges?

But somehow, deep down, I knew that what they had wouldn't be mediocre.


I skipped the following Monday. I didn't know why, exactly, just that I felt I needed a break. Mondays seemed to be becoming so routine that I was missing the magic of the early days, when I first discovered casual hookups.

Not that I knew how to bring the magic back. Skipping a week wouldn't do it, and relying on myself when I could be under the covers with a hot girl was a letdown. So the following week found me back at the club, sitting with Emma, Tiff, Val and Susie, others in our large friend group.

"Where were you last week?" asked Emma. "Anita was asking after you."

"Really?" I said. "We're not, like, together or anything."

"I know," said Emma. "She was just concerned." She looked over at the dance floor. "There she is," she said.

I turned to see. Anita caught my eye and gave me a huge smile and a wave, which I returned, then returned to focusing on her dance partner. I felt both relieved and a little disappointed that she was with someone, but at least she didn't seem upset that I hadn't been around.

Tiff took her phone out of her purse. I hadn't heard it buzz, but she had a text. "Be back in a moment," she said, with a smile for her girlfriend, and for the next ten minutes I chatted with the other three girls.

When Tiff returned, I raised my brows in surprise. Walking beside her was an elegant young woman in a green U-neck dress, rich auburn curls cascading over her shoulder. Her heels made her significantly taller than Tiff. She wasn't dressed for a nightclub, especially for a casual no-alcohol student-friendly meeting place like this.

She wore oversized gold-framed glasses, and my immediate impression was that she was in her upper twenties. Her dress revealed a couple of inches of very interesting curves. A small gold cross on a fine chain nestled between her breasts.

It wasn't until she'd taken a seat at our table that I realized I'd been fooled by her clothing and style. Now she seemed about twenty, like the rest of us.

"This is Heather," said Tiff. "It's her first visit. Be gentle with her."

Heather's face pinked at the introduction, and gave us a tentative, though seemingly heartfelt, smile.

"Gentle isn't what comes to mind for me," said Susie, with a smirk, her gaze frank.

Heather's blush deepened. Somehow I felt the need to intervene for her. "Don't embarrass our new friend, Suse. I'm Margot," I added, as the new girl turned to me with a grateful expression. "This is Val, Susie, Tiff, of course, and do you already know Emma?"

She shook her head. "I don't even know Tiff," she said. "We just met."

"Oh? How is that?"

Heather glanced at Tiff to continue the story. "We have a mutual friend," the shorter girl said. "David's a member of Heather's church. He thought she'd like to visit the club."

At the mention of church I grew instantly wary. My experience with religious people had generally not been great. Some were open-minded and friendly, but more were hostile. It would hardly be polite to ask if her church wanted to burn me at the stake for "exchanging natural relations for unnatural ones." That's Romans one twenty-six, for anyone who isn't familiar with the attack verses.

Maybe it was true that Heather's being here meant that she didn't have those prejudices. But it could also be that she was here to learn how unnatural we all were so that she could condemn us. Either way, I found myself feeling cooler toward her than I had when she arrived.

Still, she was here, she was new, and she deserved some politeness. Since Emma and Tiff were a couple, and Val and Susie seemed to have paired up, if only temporarily, it fell to me to lead the conversation with her.

And after a time, my reticence faded somewhat. Heather was very shy, but didn't seem hostile or hateful in any way.

She was studying history and English, and had a couple of scholarships, which she said was good, because she wasn't sure whether her parents would continue to pay for her.

I asked what she meant by that, but she just shook her head.

A little later, I asked her to dance. She thought about it for several seconds before agreeing. Her face colored again. She seemed to blush at even the suggestion of intimacy, and in this group that was constant. She was quite beautiful and very elegant, but when she blushed she seemed especially pretty. I'd noticed several girls eying her up. As with Susie's comment, I felt the need to protect her, at least until she was comfortable here. That meant keeping her close. And, of course, keeping a pretty girl close was rarely a hardship.

Heather avoided taking my hand as I led her to the dance floor, but she showed fewer inhibitions when she was dancing, her moves somehow complementing or mirroring mine, her body sometimes very close to mine. When she turned to face the same direction as me, and leaned back close to my chest, I could see down her cleavage to the ivory bra that supported it.

In her heels she seemed almost exactly my height in my flats, which probably would make her about two inches shorter than me. Still tall, and it was unusual for me not to have to look down at a partner.

When we returned to our table, Heather allowed me to rest my fingers on her elbow, and gave me a blushing thank you when she took her seat.

Emma picked up a round of drinks for us. When we had them, I lowered my voice to say, "You seem very un-casual for this place."

Heather gave me a self-deprecating smile. "That seems to be the story of my life," she said. "I worry so much about not making a bad impression that I go too far the other way. I try so hard to fit in," she said, nervously, "but I'm not very good at it."

Her lower lip quivered. I reached out to take her hand. "Listen," I said. "You don't need to be upset. I think you look amazing. You're easily the hottest girl here."

Did I say hottest? I should have said "most attractive," "best-looking" or something. But the words came out of my mouth, and I knew they were true when I said them.

I pressed on. "If you weren't sitting with us, now, there's several girls who would have hit on you. I've seen one or two giving you the look."

"The look?" Heather asked.

"Trying to decide whether they should ask you to leave your group to dance," I said.

"Oh, I see," she said.

I squeezed her hand. She didn't respond, but she didn't take it away from me. After a few moments I released it. "There's nothing wrong with being shy," I said.

"There is," Heather objected. "It's so hard to get out to meet people, when I don't know how to behave."

"And yet," I said, glancing around the room, then grinning at her. "Here you are."

She returned my grin. "That's true. And I've already made friends," she said. "Everyone at this table, I think."

"So it was worth it," I agreed. "Do you have many friends at church?"

She nodded. "Yes, I do. But they're not... l-lesbians." She stumbled over the word exactly as Tiff had over the word "girlfriend." "Well, Erin and Faye are," she said, "but they're older, and together. Well, they're married."

"Ah," I said, suddenly certain that my reservations about her church's bigotry were misplaced.

"And there's Hannah. We... dated... for a month or two," she said, "but we didn't have much in common. She's still a friend."

"I see," I said. "So your friend David sent you to where all the hot lesbian action is," I said, with a grin.

She flushed, but took my comment as the self-mocking humor that I'd intended. "So I knew I was going to be out of place," she said, "but I want to learn to fit into the different places I belong. Until a few months ago..." Her voice trailed off, and she glanced around the room.

"Until a few months ago what?" I prompted when she didn't continue.

Her voice dropped to where I could barely hear it over the background music. I leaned close to pick up her words. "Until a few months ago, I didn't know I liked girls," she said. "This is scary to me. But it's less scary than thinking I can never be close to anyone."

I reached out to squeeze her hand again, but only briefly. "I'm glad you learned that, Heather," I said. "Especially in your..." I glanced at her gold cross. "Your faith. A lot of women don't discover that about themselves. They stay in denial, and compensate for it by hating the rest of us."

"I know," she said, her expression sad, if thoughtful. "There but for the grace of God... and my first lover... go I."

I smiled at her. "I think I want to hear more of this story. Would you, uh, like to come back for coffee?"

Heather gave me a panicked look. "I... uh... I... I don't think so, Margot."

"It's okay," I said, trying not to show my disappointment.

"But, uh... coffee some day would be okay. Maybe we could meet?" she asked.

"Oh, yeah, sure," I said. "I'd like that." I grabbed my phone from my purse. "Give me your number."

She did, and I texted her mine.

She smiled and turned away from me to speak for a few minutes to Emma and Tiff before standing to leave.

I didn't realize how intently I was watching the way her hips swayed in her dress and heels until I noticed that Val, Tiff and Emma were all staring at me.

"What?" I asked. "I can't help it. She's gorgeous."

They all laughed. Val leaned close and murmured, "And you just got shot down, didn't you?"

"Not exactly," I said. "I'm going to see her for coffee."

"So come back with me," she suggested. "I'll give you something to keep your spirits up until then."

"Where's Suse?" I asked.

"Headache," Val said. "Left about a half hour ago, while you were caught in the redhead's tractor beam."

"Don't be mean about her," I objected. "She's nice, and she was outside her comfort zone."

"Okay, whatever," said Val. "Either way, if you don't come with me, I'll have to go home alone."

I chuckled and grinned at her. "We can't have that, can we?" I stood, collected my purse and held out my hand to her. "Where do you live?"


There was a couple making out on the couch in Val's apartment. A dark-haired girl was locked in a clinch with a bearded boy who had his hand up her shirt. Her bra was on the floor beside them.

"C'mon, guys," said Val. "I don't need to bring a friend home to this. You have a room."

"I don't have a TV," whined the girl.

"You're clearly not watching this one," said Val, striding forward to turn it off. "Go."

The girl stood, the boy reluctantly taking his hand out of her shirt. She took his other hand and led him away.

"Lacey!" said Val. When the girl turned around, she tossed her the bra. Then she turned to me. "You want coffee?"

"Not especially," I said. "Get yourself some if you like."

She shook her head and led me to her room. "You and I have never..."

"Not that I recall," I said. "Are you okay with it?"

"I wouldn't have asked if I wasn't," she said.

We kissed as we undressed each other, both activities becoming increasingly frenzied as we continued. I had a stray thought of how I wouldn't undress Heather like this. I'd have to take my time and be so very considerate of her. I tried to set it aside, but couldn't, and found the idea of having to be tender with her exciting.

Then we were naked, and my hands were on Val's body. I didn't wait for us to get to her bed, lowering my fingers to her sex and caressing until she was wet enough to get my fingers inside. She was gasping when I began to piston my hand against her, my fingers pushing deep, seeking forward for her G-spot.

She became unsteady on her feet, and I held her to me for stability, lowering my face to her large breasts as I let my thumb rest against her clit. She moaned as my hand moved inside her, and I felt her hands on my shoulders, trying to push me away, but I was too far into what I was doing to change direction, and soon I felt her shudder and collapse against me, her sex spasming around my fingers.

Belatedly I recognized the pressure for what it was. "Oh, God," I said. "Were you trying to stop me?"

"It's okay," Val said. "I wasn't very comfortable, but I guess it worked out. Now lie down, please, before I lose my balance."

Val wasted no time in following me onto the bed and lying between my legs. I groaned when her tongue touched my clit, then I squeezed my breasts as she worked, first with tongue only, then dipping a couple of fingers inside me.

She knew exactly how to lick me, and the sight of her fair head bobbing up and down between my legs was exciting. If Heather was doing that, her curls would be tickling my thighs.... This time I did manage to suppress the image, but the thought had excited me, and I came soon and hard.

When I was done, Val looked up. "I want you inside me," she stated. "Would you?"

"If you have the equipment," I agreed.

A moment later she'd hopped off the bed, then presented me with a harness. I spent a moment getting the straps lined up, then snugged it into place. The dildo was long, and Val spent a while ensuring it was fully slathered with lube.

Taking the lube from her, I leaned her forward to grip the bed and applied plenty of extra lube to her sex from behind, until she was gasping at my touch. Then I positioned myself behind her and guided the long, hot pink shaft into her.

Val moaned as I pressed the strap-on home and began to move. The back of the harness pressed against my clit. There was no vibe, but I didn't think I was going to need one. My clit was feeling every motion of mine within the girl.

Holding her hips I thrust into her until she whimpered with arousal. Then I moved my hands to her breasts, pinched her nipples, then grasped the large mounds, squeezing them as I drew her upward.

She turned her head as I leaned forward, and we kissed passionately as I continued to thrust home. Her skin glowed with perspiration, and she lifted her hands until she could take my hair in her fingers. Holding my face to hers, she moaned again, and I felt her body tense before release.

Slamming myself hard against her, I felt myself ready to join her, and moments after she shuddered I came too, my breasts sandwiched against her back, my hands squeezing hers almost flat.

"God," Val said, as I divested myself of the strap-on. "Why have we never done this before?"

"I don't know," I admitted, "but I'm glad we got around to it."

"Yeah," she said, "'cause I doubt we'll get another chance."

"Why do you say that?" I asked.

"Because I saw the way you were looking at the church mouse," she said. "Given half a chance, she's going to have you wrapped around her finger, like the old song."

"I wish you wouldn't be mean about her," I said. "She really is a nice girl."

"I believe you," Val said. "I'm just not into nice girls."

I sighed. "Neither am I," I said. "And, well, settling down isn't my thing. Still, there's something about her..."

"Well, if you avoid her clutches, let's do this again," Val said.

I gave her a lingering kiss. "I could go for that," I said, and began to hunt for my clothes.


I didn't have the same sense of ennui that I'd had after my encounter with Anita. Something about the raw lust that had been between Val and me had left me without any illusions about what we were doing. We each had used the other to meet an urgent need. There was no more to our fucking than that, and there didn't need to be.

Yet it still felt shallow. We were both perfectly satisfied. Well, I was, and I got the impression that Val had been. There didn't need to be more. But that wasn't the same as saying there couldn't be more.

I suddenly didn't feel enthusiastic about going home with Val again. But come the right Monday and the right group of friends, I knew I probably would. I hadn't changed. I wasn't a girl who'd be satisfied with less than I had. It just seemed that what I had was less than what I once thought it was.