Justine looked in the mirror. Good enough. Allen had persuaded her not to use too much make up. She wore her tightest, sexiest pair of jeans. They were thin and flexible, ideal for the dance floor, as long as it didn’t get too hot. She wore a white tank top with no bra. She wasn’t used to showing off her nipples like this, but Allen said it was perfect, and she knew Bryce would love it too. To avoid shocking anyone on cam...

“I’m dying to see this.” Alone with Bryce in her dorm room on a random Thursday morning, Justine lightly palpated his length and heft through the fabric of his sweat pants. “This is crazy,” she said, barely above a whisper. Somehow, Bryce was excited and relaxed at the same time. “You want to see it?” She smiled up at him with mischievous eyes and looked back at his bulge. “Sure.” “I’ll let you do the honors.” His big han...

It was mid-morning when, a few days later, Justine was finishing a calculus assignment. She had class in an hour. There was a knock at the door. Her roommate Margaret had cleared out early, and Justine was still in her nightwear, a Wile E. Coyote t-shirt over light blue cotton shorts. She looked in the peephole. It was Bryce. Jesus, it was Bryce! Something impelled Justine to yank the door open before she could have any o...