“Thank you.”“I’ll try not to let you down.”“I know you won’t.”“You better get back to your other guests,” he said, and gave her hand a firm squeeze. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”He walked across the room and out of the fishbowl with his head held high, and he felt the multitude of eyes in the room covering him like shrink wrap.----Dillon stayed at his parents’ house that night, although he didn’t talk to them much, only for a few minutes. He told them he’d been asked to speak at the funeral service and he had to prepare. So he went to the spare bedroom with pen and paper and tried to write something down, something meaningful, but nothing of substance would come. His mind was a jumble, adrift in his memories of C.J. There were too many experiences and conversations to assimilate and organize. He was bone-tired, from the long drive, his lonely grief, and his visit to the fishbowl. He fell off to sleep without accomplishing much.He slept like petrified wood. He woke up early, refreshed, and. She pushed me against the wall of a building, kissed me and started rubbing my pussy through my shorts. It was squishy again in seconds. Somehow I got my hand onto her pussy. Feeling the wetness of her nylon front was intoxicating. “You got two choices for the way home girl,” Sophie whispered into my ear. “Down fraternity row or down sorority row.” I quivered with the thought and gasped “Sorority...” Sophie removed her hand just before I ascended to orgasm. My pussy was leaking hard and my whole body quivering. She just stood there, grinning. “Kira, girl, your face is soooo red.” I could only whimper in reply, I was so needy and high from being sexed up in public. Just you took my hand and walked me away. A minute later we were walking hand in hand down the sidewalk of sorority row, pussies wet and oozing. There were plenty of sniffs, upturned noses, and catty remarks. With each one I could feel Sophie’s hand grip mine harder. My near-orgasm got wetter and closer every time someone.
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