Cambridge, Massachusetts, is a long way from sleepy southern hospitality.

Even Sander came up to see me settle in.

Harvard.

A melting pot of academia, brilliance, and shattered dreams.

The campus itself? Bigger than my hometown.

Fuck. Even my dorm was bigger than my high school.

Mom and Dad had wanted me to rent off campus, but I insisted on spending at least freshman year amid everything.

“How am I supposed to study human behavior if I’m not in the middle of it all?”

Sander came to use. Big. Firm. Catching every girl’s eye as he carried my stuff to the second floor.

My space was just up the stairs and to the left. Three bedrooms. A small living space. My roommates were already settled inside. They were drinking coffee or tea at the tiny table in our common room.

I could not care less.

Alicia. Tiny. Asian. Possibly Chinese but bred and born American. Black hair like a raven, a smile bright as the fucking sun. The kind of girl who’s glad to meet everyone. The kind of girl people like. The kind of girl with a cute little bum. Almost as adorable as her voice.

Shavonne. Tall. Black. Intimidatingly beautiful. A lazy “hello” and eyes that looked at me like she knew me too well. Sensual.

Disturbingly so.

I walked my family back to the car. Last weekend? We’d bathed in each other’s sweat, cum, and pleasure.

Now?

They stalled their departure.

I was okay. My crotch was still slick with Sander from the night before. Hot, longing. Saying goodbye. No…” until we meet again.”

We kissed goodbye. Proper indecent in the privacy of our car. And I watched them take off, back to their southern sleep.

I had fucked so much this summer. And now?

The entire world of Harvard was at my feet. It wasn’t hard to see who was fresh and who had been around for a while.

Last year’s freshmen? They’d found their stride, whereas the new arrivals studied maps, scratched their heads, and trailed behind their parents like lost ducklings.

Then—a cute ginger stopped me: no parents or boyfriend.

The strap of her dress lazily slipped off her shoulder, and she had eight freckles across the bridge of her nose. She was inquisitive, innocent, a small-town girl.

I introduced myself. Pointed her in the right direction and watched her walk away, wondering if I’d see her again. She forgot to give me her name.

The late summer air felt lazy and heavy, and I took my time finding my way back to the dorm. Alicia and Shavonne were still drinking tea. Coffee.

They smiled as I walked through the door, and I smiled back.

“Hi. I’m Hannah.”

I dropped into the chair. Leaned back.

“I eat pussy. So that it’s out there. What’s your vice?”

The Asian’s smile froze, mid-lifting her cup to her lips.

Shavonne? She sat back and looked at me; something shifted behind those brown eyes.

Then, a giggle.

“Good to know in a pinch,” she laughed.

She had a voice that crept under my skirt and whispered dirty.

I didn’t let them know my brother was the only one who could make me cum.

We agreed to check out the campus and see what it offered. Alicia walked quietly behind Shavonne and me, arm in arm, at the front.

We made friends and made lists of potential enemies. Shavonne and I agreed on most reflections; Alicia smiled and loved everyone.

That smile would get her fucked sooner than she realized. Shavonne, on the other hand? She wouldn’t fuck until she decided.

The daddy-boys circled, lingered, stared. Shavonne was as turned off as me. The stoners scattered the lawns; the hipsters were trying to find the perfect coffee bar. They’d all end up brewing the perfect cup in their dorm.

There were posters about campus-sanctioned events. They looked good on paper, dull as fuck in real life. Alicia wanted those things. I was looking for the dirtiest dorm on campus, so I studied the people living there, trying to determine their type.

The religious freaks? Not the first week of the semester.

The med students? Not yet. They’d come around once the pressure set in.

The poli-sci guys? Too busy pretending to change the world. They’d get sloppy drunk, cry about capitalism, and fuck the first warm body willing to listen long enough. Or who’d fuck them just to shut them up.

Business majors? Too controlled. Too rehearsed. The ones who actually got laid weren’t the suit-clad future CEOs, but the cocky assholes with daddy’s money and no real direction.

The philosophy kids? High and horny, but too busy debating the ethics and deeper points of it than just fucking doing it.

The engineers? One week away from realizing how much sex they aren’t having.

Haha… no.

They’d have to be freaks like me. Psychology—that’s where the real perverts are.

“What’s your aim, Shavonne?”

She smiled. “Getting you drunk and to bed.”

I looked at her and grinned.

Oh, baby, you don’t need to get me drunk for that. Just give me time to wash the cum out of my cunt.”

So, while Alicia went off to take in the official Harvard campus, I ate pussy.

Black. Dripping. Pussy.

Shavonne worked her fingers inside me, slow and steady, dragging me into a lazy shudder that lasted longer than I thought possible.

I still wondered how my bed felt when Alicia locked the door behind her.

“She’s got a cute bum,” I whispered.

Shavonne sighed, stretching like a cat. “She’ll fall in love within the week and be wrecked before Christmas.”

I looked at her brown, sure eyes. Confident.

“Sociology?” I whispered.

“Aye. The knowledge of white girls eating pussy better than black guys.”

A test? Oh, you fool.

“Psychology,” I whispered, “The knowledge of knowing where black girls break.”

“Then break me,” she teased, wrapping her legs around my head.

Shavonne and I were inseparable from day one. We quickly made many friends and were invited to the good parties.

Alicia’s smile faded initially; she hadn’t expected to room with…us. But she didn’t request a move. She found comfort in wearing less inside our little bubble.

Alicia studied economics.

And computer science.

Math.

Finance. Political theory. Linguistics.

She volunteered. She tutored. She ran every morning at 6 AM. She called her parents twice a week like clockwork. She took notes in perfect, color-coded handwriting and she never missed a deadline.

She kept a vibrator in her bedside drawer but used it silently and only on Saturdays.

And she smiled through it all.

Shavonne and I studied her and binge drank on Saturdays.

And by the third week, I still hadn’t slept in my bed, nor had my pussy fucked.

Just sipping black cunt like a little whore.

And that’s when our dorm held the party. We made sure Alicia couldn’t escape into her books.

“A pretty bum like that shouldn’t be covered up,” I said as I threw one of my skirts onto her bed.

She smiled.

“And those cute tits don’t need a bra, honey,” Shavonne shot in from our bedroom.

And Alicia smiled again before phoning her parents because it was 2 PM on a Saturday.

“Hairy bush?” Shavonne whispered, sliding her long, lazy legs out of bed.

“Hairy. But trimmed to perfection,” I argued.

“Thong or unicorn panties?”

She handed me a cup of coffee.

I looked at our cute Asian friend sitting neatly on her bed.

“Hello Kitty,” I said.

“Indeed,” Shavonne agreed, stretching lazily.

I watched her breasts strain against her top. At least she wore a top. She didn’t usually bother.

“Three weeks and not corrupted,” I said.

“Asian stereotype,” she countered. “They don’t break. They slip. They surrender. Absorb and continue.”

She smirked, taking a slow sip of coffee.

“I bet she tastes like effort.”

“More than my former boyfriend did,” I laughed.

She smiled.

“Oh, so you do boys?”

“Yes. I do boys.”

But I wouldn’t let her know how only my brother makes me cum.

Alicia’s door shut.

Not slamming—just pushed closed.

I looked at Shavonne; she just shrugged her shoulders. Not her problem. I thought I was detached, but Shavonne?

Ice queen. Lover? Absolutely. Mate? Perhaps not. Tall, black, and sexy. Unbothered by anything not her.

Shavonne yawned, stretched like a cat, and continued to sip her coffee.

I finished mine.

The dorm hallway hummed with life outside, footsteps passing, muffled conversations, and a door slamming shut down the hall.

A head slamming against a headboard overhead. Whimpers.

Alicia’s door stayed closed. Long enough to make me wonder, long enough to make me think we’d pushed too hard, too soon. Long enough for the curiosity to settle into something else, something restless.

Long enough for Leonore upstairs to shriek in orgasm and her guest to grunt in release.

Then, Alicia’s door opened again.

I struggled to recognize the girl who had stepped out. She wore heavy eyeliner, and her hair was messy—nothing like the groomed, perfect sheen of silk she usually wore. She wore a skimpy top—no bra.

And my skirt. It left nothing to the imagination.

She met my gaze, voice steady.

“My pussy is neat. Small, well-kept bush on top, otherwise smooth as silk. I don’t do girls. I haven’t done boys. But I can play the same game the two of you play.”

She spun around; her skirt lifted enough to let us glimpse her Hello Kitty panties.

“And right now, the game is you can look, but you can’t touch. And I don’t need to study psychology to see how much that pains you.”

And just like that, she left our bubble and headed into the world outside.

Shavonne stretched again.

“Around Christmas,” she yawned, “Head between my legs, hips around your face.”

The game was played higher here than in my sleepy town.

I was becoming a pawn instead of a queen.

Too much pussy juice scrambles the brain. I needed to get my shit together.

I looked at her lazy, stretched posture.

What does it take to break a black girl?

I bet Sander could.

How do you crack an Asian glacier?

Easy.

With heat.

I hit the shower—warm and cleansing before getting dressed for the party.

Shavonne? She just slid into it.

The music was loud. Weed hung thickly in the air.

Shavonne had found a group of guys and told me it was a solo mission.

Fine. I had spent far too much time between her thighs; it was about time I got to know some other crotches.

I hadn’t had a cock in three weeks, and after the summer I’d put my pussy through, she was objecting loudly.

But nothing caught my fancy. Rather, everything caught my fancy. I drank whatever I could get my hands on. I smoked things I didn’t know the names of. I kissed strangers passing by.

But nothing caught.

Sander’s cock drifted through my mind.

A small blonde pressed herself against me and groped my tits.

“Wow! They’re real,” she giggled—before being swept off by some stoner.

The last time I was this drunk and unhinged, I’d gone to pee. And my brother had fucked me. And now, he was fucking with my mind.

Then I saw her.

My ginger friend from the first day at Harvard, uncomfortably wedged between three daddy-boys. Just the project I needed to unfuck my head.

I grabbed her shoulder, and her eyes found my face—slowly.

“You okay, babe?” I said, pulling her away.

“Everything’s hazy,” she whispered.

Still wearing that same dress.

The strap that wouldn’t stay on her shoulder.

“You want to get out?” I asked.

She nodded. Leaned against my shoulder.

I followed her upstairs and found her room. Her eyes were blank, and her voice was barely a whisper.

“Are you gonna fuck me?”

It wasn’t an invitation.

“You could, you know,” she mumbled, “Fuck my pussy and do stuff to me. You’re not going to tie me down and leave me? I’ve never been fucked by a girl before. I’ve never been fucked. Do you want to? Fuck me?”

There’s a reason I try not to do drugs. I had no idea what she’d been taking.

Or given.

Her pulse seemed fine, as did her breathing. I made sure she found her bed.

“Are you gonna fuck me?”

No, honey.

Not tonight.

And Hannah kicked in.

I headed downstairs. I had to find out.

What the fuck made guys like that tick?

They met me with hostility. They surrounded me and pressed against me.

I’d taken their prey, and now, I was the hunted.

“Let me guess,” I whispered slowly, “Law? With daddy’s money? Not for the love of law, but to know how to corrupt it?”

“You ever had a real cock, bitch?” the tall one sneered.

So soon. So direct.

“Honey,” I sighed, “I’ve had fake, real, small, and big ones. But never one that needs daddy’s money to back it up.”

I pushed him with my pinky.

And he backed up.

Weak.

“If you’re gonna shoot your mouth like that, you’d better have the balls to back it up, honey.”

The flock regrouped.

“What do you say,” the little Italian kid pushed, “think you can handle a little amore?”

Why is it that every kid with a bastardized accent thinks scattered words in their mother tongue are enough to melt a girl?

“What? Are you going to sprinkle me with parmesan and eat me like pasta? Is that what you call it? Parmesan shaker?”

I leaned in and caught the tip of his ear with my tongue.

“Tua madre è orgogliosa del tuo piccolo uccello?”

He froze and then looked at me, confused.

“You should ask your mother.”

In defeat, the shy one emerged.

New York.

He grabbed my waist and pressed against me.

It would’ve been a power move if he was just slightly taller.

“I get it,” I whispered, “You’re mad that I took your toy. You don’t know what to do now. Outsmarted, and not men enough to take.”

They regrouped again. Hovered. Pressing against me.

“Thing is, boys. You caught me on a bad night. I haven’t fucked a cock in three weeks.”

I groped New York and felt him twitch.

“Maybe, just maybe, you can scratch the itch between the three of you?”

They fell back. Uncertainty. Hesitation.

“Don’t worry.” I smiled, “There’s plenty of me to go around.”

I stared at the tall one.

Held his gaze and dared him.

“Or do I just take New York here for a ride?”

I groped him again. Felt him stiffen and saw the flicker of jealousy. Of challenge.

“I’m sure he’ll tell you all about it later.”

They fell in line behind me like good boys. I knew the showers on the first floor would be occupied. But the one on the third?

Empty. Private. Perfect.

I stopped at the door and then turned.

“Oh, and here’s the deal,” I said, letting my skirt drop as I watched their eyes follow it down.

“You make me cum. Fair game. If not…”

I let the silence stretch.

Then, I dropped my voice—harsh, cold, razor-sharp.

“I’ll bust your balls so hard you’ll be spitting gravel the rest of the semester. Got it?”

I stripped down and sat on my knees, facing them.

Bare. Open. Waiting. Daring.

They hesitated.

I sighed.

“Oh, c’mon,” I sighed, letting the disappointment drip from my voice, “You don’t know what to do with a pussy unless she’s passed out?”

Silence.

Embarrassment.

I tilted my head.

Smirked.

“Cocks. Out. Now.”

Mumbles.

Fumbles.

Cocks out.

New York was semi-hard. The other two? Not as much.

“Not impressed, boys,” I taunted.

I pressed my tits together and ran my hands slowly down my stomach. Making them watch.

Traced a finger against me. Wet. Slick. Ready.

“She doesn’t get more ready than this.”

The tall one took a step forward. Finally.

I arched a brow, “You guys having a cock-measuring contest?”

Paused. Let it sink in.

“Would you rather I left? Give you some privacy?”

I tilted my head but softened my blue eyes.

He took one more step.

“Good boy.”

And one more.

I could smell him now. Clean. Expensive.

Daddy’s money.

“What are you afraid of, big boy? That I might bite?”

He had to come to me—all the way.

One more step. Just one more.

He glanced behind.

Checking to ensure his backup still had his back.

“Come here, New York. Show him how it’s done.”

And New York stepped forward.

Half-stiff. Pressed it against my lips.

Rubbed—demanding and testing.

I let him.

I parted my lips and slobbered against him. Slow, wet, teasing.

“Oh, yeah, baby… that’s how you do it,” I whispered against his skin without ever letting go of Mr. Tall with my eyes.

I let him past my lips, making him moan. A moan that told me everything.

He wouldn’t last long.

So, I let him further in. Further down, taking him deeper, feeling him twitch.

Compared to Sander, he was a walk in the park.

I let him slip out, spilling drool down my chin. Made sure the tall one saw.

Took him in again—all of him.

Something I could never do with Sander.

And it burned deep inside. New York hitched, and his breath fell short.

I let him out. Slow. Teasing. Knowing.

“You’d better start fucking me if I’m gonna get any.”

I lifted my ass from the floor and waited.

Dared them.

New York was braver than I thought. He got behind me. And slipped it inside.

I moaned, but only for show. Locking my eyes on Italy.

“Dai. Non ti ha insegnato tua madre come piacere a una ragazza?”

Leave my fucking mother out of this!” he snarled and stepped forward.

“Perché? È gelosa?”

His cock twitched and his ego cracked.

Having my face fucked with a limp cock was a first.

“I’m gonna fuck you up, bitch.”

It was an empty threat, mostly for show.

Kind of hard when your dick is tiny.

New York tensed behind me, and I pushed onto him. Mainly to get it over with.

He grabbed my ass. Groped.

Hard.

It almost felt good.

Then, he pushed himself inside and gushed a surprisingly big load.

I let go of Italy and turned towards my fallen hero.

“Pity. So soon?”

Italy wasted no time getting his turn behind me.

I smirked.

“Going for sloppy seconds, cagnolino? Or a fresh culo? Like a good Catholic?”

He didn’t spit to lube. He just pressed against me. Into me. I let out a giggle.

Then—my eyes found Mr. Tall.

He had grown hard, intent, and determined.

“You fucking bitch,” he snarled.

Italy followed up with a slap against my butt. It stung.

I felt that.

Too good and too dangerous.

Tall stepped forward, pushing himself into my face.

Into my mouth.

Down my throat.

Impressive power move.

I clenched my ass. I needed Italy to finish.

Throat fucking is my kryptonite.

Thanks, Sander.

A girl can only do so much when spit-roasted like that. I had to look up into his burning eyes. I had to listen to my throat gargle. I had to take Italy’s thighs slamming into my butt. I had to accept that I leaked New York on the floor.

The fucking Hudson overflowing each time he slammed into my ass.

But the worst part was my deceiving pussy.

I’m getting dizzy.

I’m feeling tingly.

If you rub me, I’ll cum for you.

Italy finally surrendered.

“Prandi questo, fottuta puttana!”

It’s hard to come up with a comeback with your mouth full of cock.

“Yeah, you’re nothing but a dumb, fucking slut. Choke on my cock, bitch,” the tall one hissed bravely.

Too...