Night of the Living Ch. 01

"Gawdamn yur a hottie!" the preppie drunkenly slurs, staring down at me as I move away from the bar. I push past him, brushing his obvious hard-on with my elbow and leaving him staring down at my tight little ass as I walk back to Kristy, expertly balancing the two beers and two shots I've purchased. As I set the glasses on the table, Kristy leans forward and kisses me.

"Thanks, baby," she purrs. Catching the stumbling drunk approaching out of the corner of my eye, I lean into Kristy, crushing her full lips and sucking her tongue into my mouth. I usually don't like making a scene of our relationship in public, but I really don't want a loud-mouth drunk to ruin the mood. It was three years ago tonight that Kristy and I shared our first kiss, and the fact that we shared it with Angela doesn't overshadow the commitment we made later back in our dorm room. As I breathlessly pull away, I notice Biff Biceps stumbling toward the door. Two birds with one stone.

"Damn, Brandi! Dare I ask what brought that on?"

"I can only resist a blonde zombie with double-D's for so long," I offer for explanation. Kristy raises one blood-enrcrusted eyebrow so high that the axe embedded in her head actually tilts slightly. "One or two more of those might actually tide me over till we get back home." I hand Kristy a shot while raising my own. "To the happiest three years of my life."

"To the hottest little sexpot a lady could ever hope to fuck," replies Kristy without missing a beat. We down our shots, grab our beers, and begin to guzzle as several interested patrons start to chant. Two swallows and my stomach flops, almost gagging beer back into my glass. I never have been much of a beer drinker. Kristy slams her empty glass on the table with a knowing grin, and accepts the applause. "Still struggling with that gag reflex, huh?"

"Don't get a lot of practice taming it living with you," I shoot back lowering my half-full glass. Some foam dances enticingly along Kristy's upper lip, begging to be licked off. She notices something in my dark eyes and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, a knowing smile twinkling in her hazel eyes.

"You sure aren't holding back tonight, are you baby? Lucky some guys haven't dragged into the bathroom yet. Hell, I'd be hitting on you in that sexy little cheerleading outfit if I didn't know you."

"You've been hitting on me all night anyway, and no sober guy has even tried, because they all know you'd kick their ass if they did."

"It's not a sober guy that I'm worried about. It's a sex-starved, drunken crowd of guys."

"And that's why I'm going to pee in the parking lot rather than get anywhere close to bathrooms in this place." We're both mostly joking, but I have been putting on quite a show, and I actually love Kristy's protectiveness. We both know we're going home together, and thinking about that gets me even hotter. I feel the heat building between my legs, and my nipples are suddenly searching for some diamonds to cut. "Finish my beer and let's head home," I whisper in her ear, feeling my hot breath deflect back across my face. Three seconds later, four empty glasses stand on our table, and I'm following the second hottest ass in the bar toward to the door.

Kristy isn't big at all, except for her boobs, but at 5-9 she can hold her own in a crowd. While we both work out regularly (sometimes even in the gym), she just looks strong, especially next to me. Kristy likes to call me her little gymnast, because I'm about half a foot shorter, and definitely have the chest of a gymnast, though right now my nipples are certainly doing their best to fill out the Jayhawk on my cheerleading sweater. Watching Kristy walking in front of me, I marvel at how sexy she looks wearing a ripped and bloody Mizzou shirt and shredded purple sweat pants. Even as a zombie, she has my pussy quivering in anticipation. We've literally had sex at least once almost every single day for the past three years, and I still can't wait to get her home and in bed.

Exiting the bar, it's early enough that there's still a line waiting to get in. That means, if we're lucky, we can still catch a bus back to our apartment. And it would be lucky, because the cold, soon-to-be November air in Kansas guarantees my nipples are going to be aching by the time we get home. Kristy puts her arm across my shoulder and pulls me against her as several guys in line whistle and invite us to join them in the bar we just left. My hand naturally falls across her back to her side, and my fingers comfortably slide inside the waistband of her tattered sweats, her silk panties a cool contrast against her hot skin.

A low moan crawls through her lips at my touch, and her fingers gently brush across my nipple, then back again to my arm. My own fingers tug her panties tight against her crotch in response. We both giggle, catching each other's eyes, then stop and kiss again, daring the world to make a comment. Two people in love deserve to share each other in private or in public, and no matter what the future holds for us, we've both known for a long time that we definitely love each other.

A couple more catcalls from the not-quite-good-enuf line bring us back to the present, and we continue the short walk to one of the many bus stops in the area. One very nice thing about a college town is that the people in charge would much prefer drunken students on busses to drunken students in speeding cars. We are just approaching the corner when a familiar pee-green bus pulls up. "Damn!" I mutter. "I've still got to piss." I'm suddenly thinking of my bulging bladder, the hard bus seats, and all the potholes between here and our apartment.

"Hold it in, baby, and I'll suck every last drop out of you when we get home," Kristy challenges in a husky whisper just as the door slides open. I step onto the bus as Kristy's hand flattens my sweater around my breast, perfectly outlining my poking nipple and barbell right in front of the old bus driver. His eye's never leave my tits as I walk past without even thinking to show my bus pass. Kristy holds her pass toward the driver, a broad smile looking eerily out of place on her bloody and scarred face. "Happy Halloween," she murmurs, heading back to our favorite seat in the rear.

Despite being for the most part monogomous in our relationship, we have certainly racked up quite a number sexcapades over three years. In fact, we've each cum at least twice in rear seat of this very bus. While a nearly empty bus ride at night might sound like the perfect platform for illicit sex, the busses are actually fairly well lit inside, and the driver tonight is spending more time looking at his overhead mirror than through his windshield. It's really easier and definitely sexier to get finger-fucked to orgasm at noon on a crowded bus headed across campus. Add my bulging bladder to the equation, and Kristy is going to have to be very much hands-off for the 10-block ride to our apartment.

As we gigglingly climb the three flights of stairs to our apartment, I have all but convinced myself that I can't possibly keep from peeing for another second. As I'm searching in my bag for keys, Kristy roughly thrusts her hand under my skirt, grabs my crotch, and commands, "Don't you dare waste a drop of that precious piss. I told you I'd suck you dry, and I'm going to."

"Kristy, you're a mess and I've GOT TO PEE!" I practically shout to the neighborhood.

"And you're gonna hold every drop inside while I wash off this makeup. You even so much as dribble and I'm going to spank your ass raw." She fixes me with a glare that guarantees she will follow through on her promises, and that I'll enjoy it either way. Suddenly I'm not worried about peeing nearly so much as about how I'm going to just dribble enough to earn my spanking without peeing it all out and missing the chance to have Kristy's hot mouth latched onto my cunny.

"OK, but please hurry. This really hurts." Faster than I realize what's happening, Kristy ducks her head to my chest, captures the barbell on my right nipple in her teeth, and pulls away. "Ouch! Fuck!" I blurt, grabbing for my breast.

"Something to keep your mind occupied while I shower," she grins pushing through the door into our apartment.

"Bitch," I mutter, clutching my breast and smiling weakly, knowing I'll have no problem worrying about my bladder now. Pain is something I find very stimulating when applied in a safe environment. We've been expanding my boundaries recently, and tonight is beginning to look like a Howloween to remember.

Closing and locking the door, I move down the hallway toward our bathroom. We rent a two-bedroom apartment, mostly to keep up appearances for the occasional visiting family member, and the bathroom is situated between the two bedrooms. The back room is actually our bedroom, but the front room gets a fair share of sex also. Kristy has already removed the filthy axe-wig and is just undoing her bra when I reach around her with both hands and slowly rip her shirt open Hulk Hogan style. Tossing the destroyed black and gold piece of crap into the trash can, I slide my hands under her now loosened bra and lift, watching my favorite titties appear magically in the mirror in front of us.

Kristy's tan is flawless, spread evenly across her face, over her taught breasts, and down to the purple waistband of her sweat pants. I have never seen a tan line on her body, a practice she proudly brought with her from California where she was raised. As my hands press her back against me through her breasts, I raise on my toes to watch over her shoulder. She truly is beautiful, and she truly is all mine. My hands expose her large pink nipples which are just about the same size as mine, but which look perfectly proportioned just above the center of her large breasts. Cupping one breast in each hand, I lift slightly, then let my hands slide down across her smooth, tight stomach and continue down inside her sweats pants. Spreading kisses across her shoulder and down her side, I lower into a crouch, bringing her tattered purple sweat pants with me. Inhaling a deep breath of her musky scent, I nudge her to raise one foot and then the other to step free from the clothing, which I deposit on top of her shirt before returning to the last little barrier to her nakedness.

If I have a body for bondage, Kristy has a body for lingerie, and the sexy red silk tap pants contrast beautifully with her tanned skin. I gently tug them down her thighs, noting pleasantly how they cling moistly to her furry cunny, and can't help but nuzzle her ass in the process. As Kristy steps free from her panties, I stand and began to lift my sweater . . .

"Don't, Brandi. Keep it on just a couple of minutes more while I clean this gunk off, then I'll return the favor and undress you." She tilts my chin up with her warm fingers, and captures my playfully pouting mouth with hers, driving her tongue between my teeth and playfully lashing the stud piercing my tongue. "I do love your metal, baby," she says, staring into my eyes for a moment. Then she turns and steps easily into the shower, sliding the door closed with one hand as she turns on the water with the other. I switch the lights so the heat lamp over the shower comes on and the lights over the mirror darken. "Enjoy the show you sexy little slut," Kristy teases as she begins foaming her body with soap. Blurred though she is through the fogging shower doors, the white soap trails only accentuate her tanned curves. Subconciously, one of my hands raises to my throbbing right breast and begins to massage slowly, gently sliding the little steel barbell back and forth through my hardening nipple. "What are you doing, Brandi?" comes a sudden snarl from the shower. Kristy slides the shower door open slightly and mockingly glares at me, soap slipping luridly around her heavy breasts.

"Just thinking about the first time you stayed overnight at our house in Emporia." Kristy's sexy grin tells me she remembers surprising my dad when he thought I was taking a shower.

"That turned out to be quite a visit, and I'll always have a place in my heart for your dad."

"You'll always have a place between your legs for him, too, slut," I half-jokingly shoot back.

"I think that would be a little too weird now, even for a slut like me," she replies, though I can see in her eyes that she isn't completely convinced.

"You know, if he doesn't get serious and re-marry soon, we might just have to make another trip home this winter. A month off for Christmas might just be long enough for you to get him out of your system."

"Yeh," Kristy agrees. "Or long enough for you to get a little baby sister from your girlfriend slash step-mom. You definitely don't want me spending a month in the same house with your hunky dad."

"We could both do a lot worse for a wife," I taunt, recalling our many discussions about sex with my dad.

"Think of the problems that would cause for our kids' middle school geneology projects."

"Right, like our kids aren't going to have enough problems with school anyway," I say, continuing to rub my breast and now sliding a hand into my skirt. Just thinking about having kids with Kristy and my dad is getting me even more horny. "Damn I'm such a naughty little slut."

"Yes, you definitely are that," Kristy confirms, sliding the door closed and bending over to rinse the suds from her blond hair. I watch her blurred body moving enticingly behind the glass, then close my eyes and think back three years to being practically carried into our dorm by Kristy and Angela. Waking up in Kristy's arms for the first time was both shocking and very comfortable, and snuggling back against her warmth felt more natural than any of my previous encounters with groping teenage boys or a middle-aged professor. That first kiss between just the two of us was really magical, and the rest of the night was a blur of hot sex and . . .

"Damn, bitch. Still thinking about your dad?" Kristy has turned off the shower and is eyeing me hungrily as she dries her hair. I guilty tug my hand out of my skirt, trying to wipe off some of my juices along the way. "Hey! Did you just pee yourself?"

A mischevious smile slowly spreads across my face as Kristy hangs her towel over the shower door and steps toward me in all her glorious bare skin.