She sips her beer, tugging at the hem of her entirely-too-short denim skirt. Stupid parties-she hates them, hadn't wanted to come in the first place. ButKrystal had insisted, hadn't wanted to be alone at the biggest frat bash of theyear, the one where the official "Frat Girl" was chosen from a collection ofnames put in a hat. It sounded silly to Tammy, but Krystal was excited, stoked. So Tammy relented, borrowing the short skirt, the tight sweater that showcasesher 34 C breasts in a way she's unaccustomed to. All to accompany her dormmate. . . her now missing dorm mate. Tammy runs a nervous hand through her soft blonde hair, blue eyes scanning theopulent room. Everyone here is so much older, cooler, more sophisticated. Shefeels out of place, a dull hick at theVanderbilt's. No amount of red lipstickor low cut sweaters can hide the fact that she is a farm girl of eighteen. It'sthe end of her first semester, and she is still a fish out of water."Can I get you another?" Tammy. Didn’t miss a beat at all.If she kept this up, he might just rendezvous ’Amber’, or so the Planet Fitness tag told him. No one used their real name nowadays if they were vampires, veela, Lycans, even humans. The government tracked anyone who spoke against them. Amber's stare—the color itself—inspired two more upper arm sets that set off a sweat shockwave. Caius grunted. Amber blushed as he assumed his full height and stopped the work-out for THIS particular room. What was Marishka doing?Granted, it was late (1:00AM to be exact) and the women’s locker room so they were clear. However, those moans carried. His sweet, slutty coveness laid precariously along the wooden bench now instead: nimble, imaginative fingers in her neon shorts. Caius could barely move. Her winged liner accentuated the pleasure across a flushed, freckled face. Caius was losing breath as much as Marishka. His erection made walking toward her difficult. He KNEW she sensed his presence but did not fear continuing. An.
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