6

I was still dazed when Danika tossed a pile of clothes on my bed.

I was in jeans and a loose tee, hair in a ponytail. Comfortable and safe.

Danika looked at me like I had just personally offended her soul.

“What,” she said, slowly, “the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

I blinked. “Getting ready?”

“For what? A shift at a grocery store?” She crossed her arms. “It’s a pool party, babe. Let the titties and coochie out.”

“I don’t have a swimsuit.”

Danika laughed like I was adorable. Then she walked over, yanked open her drawer, and pulled out a set of lingerie so hot I forgot how to breathe.

“You’re wearing this, don't worry it's new and unused.”

It was black, strappy, and lacy. A bra that barely covered anything and lifted everything. A thong with cutouts that showed more than it hid.

“That’s not even clothes,” I said.

“It’s confidence,” she grinned, “and you’re hiding it under this.”

She grabbed a thin white crop tee, cut just below the chest, and handed it over. It was half see-through.

She tied her own black bikini top around her chest and stepped into a tiny pair of denim shorts that were more ass than fabric.

I stared.

She looked like sex on legs.

“You're not walking in there looking like a damn freshman, girl. You're walking in like the hot bitch you are.”

She pointed at the bathroom.

“Go.”

I changed.

The lingerie hugged me in all the wrong and perfect ways. My nipples were visible under the white tee, the lace peeking through. The thong sat high on my hips, making my waist look smaller. The back was gone. Just cheeks.

I looked in the mirror and blushed.

Danika whistled when I stepped out.

“Bitch,” she said. “If I were a guy I’d break my neck looking at you.”

“I feel naked.”

“Good. That’s the point.”

She threw a hoodie over us both and we headed out into the night.

To the pool party.

To the noise, the boys, the bodies and the chaos.

The music hit first, heavy bass, laughter and screams. There were bodies everywhere.

We walked into the backyard and it was chaos. The pool was lit from inside, casting blue waves on every wet, glistening body.

People were dancing, grinding, half-naked, some were already naked.

I froze just past the gate.

A girl knelt in the grass, mouth wide open, bobbing on some guy’s cock so hard the sound echoed. Her throat took him all the way, spit glistening down her chin. A small crowd watched, cheering.

To the right, a girl bent over a lounge chair while another rubbed her ass against a guy’s lap. She was grinding slow, teasing, his hands gripped on her hips like he was about to fuck her right there.

Across the pool, two girls poured alcohol over their chests, letting it run down over their tits as guys leaned in to lick it off. One of them moaned so loud I felt it in my spine.

Danika nudged me.

“You look like your soul left your body.”

“I’m just…” I swallowed. “This is a lot.”

She laughed, then handed me a red cup. “You need to loosen up.”

“I’m not used to this,” I mumbled. “I’m shy.”

She clinked her cup against mine.

“It’s college, Ember. You’re allowed to stop being what you used to be. Drink.”

I took a sip. Then a bigger one. It burned. I liked it.

“See?” she said. “It’s fine.”

That’s when a guy walked up and grabbed a handful of her ass, pulling her in.

It was the same guy from the night I arrived. From the bed. The one who’d fucked her and that other girl like he was built for it.

He kissed her, deep, rough, shameless.

“Mmm, hey baby,” she said between kisses. “Ember, this is Smith. My boyfriend.”

“Nice to meet you,” he said, voice low, fingers already tugging at Danika’s top. He slid it up and cupped her tits, rubbing her nipples slow and rough like he owned her.

Danika moaned, still kissing him.

I turned away, heat crawling up my neck again.

She looked over her shoulder at me.

“Oh, no you don’t.”

Before I could step back, she grabbed my wrist and shoved me forward. I stumbled and fell straight into the pool.

I came up gasping, hair soaked, shirt clinging to my chest, nipples hard and visible through the wet fabric.

Danika dove in right after me.

I laughed, breathless. “You bitch!”

She grinned, swimming close, her body gliding next to mine. Her hands floated on the surface, fingers brushing my hips under the water.

“You’re still too tense,” she whispered.

“I’m fine,” I lied.

“No, you’re not.”

Her hand dipped lower.

“Danika...” I whispered.

But her fingers slid past my waistband, under the thong, between my legs. I gasped.

She rubbed slow circles, gentle at first. Her other hand moved to cup my breast, thumb teasing my nipple under the soaked fabric.

My thighs trembled.

“Relax,” she whispered, “let go.”

I moaned. The water rocked around us, no one was paying attention, there were too many distractions, too much sex and noise and heat.

She pressed her fingers deeper, stroking my clit.

I clung to the edge of the pool, breath catching, legs spreading just enough.

She finger-fucked me slow, steady, rubbing my clit with her thumb as her fingers curled inside.

I whimpered, moaned, my hips started to rock and my body gave in.

“Fuck...Danika...”

“Shh,” she whispered, sucking gently on my earlobe. “All better now.”

She gave one last deep stroke and pulled her hand out.

I was panting, wet from the pool and more.

Danika winked.

Then swam back to Smith like nothing happened.

The water clung to my skin like silk. I leaned back against the edge of the pool, heart still racing from Danika’s fingers.

My thighs were tingling but I wasn’t scared anymore.

I felt good and relaxed. My body buzzed from the alcohol and the orgasm.

The music thumped and I let it pull me. My arms floated at the surface. My hips swayed.

My wet shirt clung to my skin, see-through now, lace visible, nipples hard beneath the soaked fabric. I didn’t care.

I felt hot.

Wanted.

And then I looked up.

And froze.

There, above the pool, leaning against the iron balcony railing with a drink in his hand, was him.

Chance.

Professor Black.

His black shirt was unbuttoned just enough to show a glimpse of ink trailing down his chest. The sleeves were rolled, forearms tensed, veins tight.

His pants hung low on his hips, his belt was undone like he didn’t give a fuck about rules. His jaw was locked, his mouth a hard line, and his eyes.

Locked directly on me.