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  1. Hello, everybody. A heads-up for first-time readers: if you're a desperation or waiting-in-line fan, you'll probably appreciate the bulk of this story even without any context, but toward the end there will be a lot of character development and references to prior stories. To fully appreciate all the character moments in here, you'll need to go all the way back to "Season 1" of the Meagan & Parker Saga. PM me if you're interested in getting the downloads of Seasons 1 and 2. If you'd rather skip to the fun stuff, scroll down until you see this: ----------------------------- And now, for all my readers, I have an ANNOUNCEMENT: I am retiring from writing these stories. Relax: you'll have a few more tales from me before I go. I'll finish Parker's plotline. But after that, I'm going to step away for a long time. Probably not forever... but it's a possibility. When I first decided to write "Season 3" and create a setting for Meagan and Parker in a college house, rather than a dorm, this story, "The Pile-Up," was the one I really wanted to tell. A true classic waiting-in-line story in which everybody needs to use the bathroom all at once. As I worked my way through the season, this was the goal. Maximum desperation, maximum college-girl hotness. But as I wrote, I got more and more into the story of Meagan and Parker's relationship. And by the time I got around to writing "The Pile-Up," I realized that I was actually much more excited about writing their relationship than writing the desperation. And when I did work out a rough draft, I caught myself thinking, Darn it, I really need to add more desperation -- as if it had become a chore, something that needed to be done in order to tell the story of a struggling romance. I also find I am somewhat less interested in my kink in general these days. It doesn't turn me on the way it used to. I guess I'm a bit bored with it. I think I need to find some fresh angle, or just to give myself some time. But that doesn't mean I don't have mixed feelings. I'm particularly sad that I might be letting down my fans. The appreciation I've gotten here has spurred me on to finish the tale. "I can't quit now," I kept telling myself. "I don't want to disappoint people." So for all my readers, a heartfelt thank-you. For that reason, and for others, I don't want to abandon this part of me. But I think I need to step back a while, so I can appreciate it again, and before I burn out on storytelling. So what's next? What you're about to read is "The Pile-Up." In a few days I'll post the next story, "The Play-Out," here in the same thread. They really belong together. After that, there will be two more stories, which I will post separately. At some point I will write a few bonus stories and compile Season 3 together, as I did with 1 and 2. And that will be the end of Meagan and Parker... but of course they will always be there for you in the stories I've already told. Again, thank you for reading. ---------------------------------------------- It was a quiet evening in Franklin House—the Thursday before Spring Break, not long after Meagan’s grad-school celebration. Parker was nearly alone in the house; Lucy and Trav were off somewhere, Zephyr had asked for a girl’s night with Meagan and Dacy at a party on the other side of campus, Cara was at work, Zach was at the gym, and Val and Miranda had gone to a concert. Mitchell was in his room working on something, and Parker was at loose ends. It was raining—and pretty hard, too. Meagan had taken the girls in her car, so leaving the house wasn’t appealing. Trav sometimes let people play on the Xbox when he and Lucy were gone, but he hadn’t said anything about it this time and Parker didn’t feel like barging in without permission. Since Spring Break was right around the corner, he felt no burning need to get any schoolwork done. He was thinking about turning on the TV to see if there was anything good on—which was a sure sign that he was running out of ideas for entertainment—but then a good track came up on shuffle on his iTunes and he decided he’d just play the rest of the album, which he hadn’t heard in a while. He lay down on the bed and listened. A door slammed downstairs. From the muffled swearing, it sounded like Zach had come home from the gym, and was probably totally soaked—and cold, too. A few minutes later, water began running somewhere. Probably he’d jumped in the shower. Perhaps this prompted Mitchell to get up and take his shower. At any rate, he strode down the hall, clad in only a towel with his toiletries bag in one hand, and stepped into the nearer bathroom. Not long later, he began singing. At least he had a decent voice. Gravel crunched in the driveway beside the house. It sounded like Cara’s car—but when the door opened, the first voice he heard was Miranda’s. Then more gravel crunched: definitely Meagan’s car this time. “Everyone’s home at once,” Parker said, poking his head out. “Seems like,” Miranda said, pushing past him quickly. “Excuse me…” She quickly went into the farther bathroom and closed the door. Val followed her roommate up the steps. “Hey, Parker,” she said. When confronted by both bathroom doors closed, she turned around and started heading back down—only to meet Cara coming up, still in her work clothes. “Can I use one of you guys’ bathrooms?” she said. “The one downstairs is locked.” “Miranda’s in one—and going by the singing, Mitchell’s in the other,” Val said. “Well, I hope they won’t take too long,” Cara said. “Me too!” Val said, retreating up the steps. “I was just about to go downstairs to yours…” The door at the bottom of the stairs opened again, and Dacy came clattering in. She ditched her high heels as soon as she could, and trotted up the steps, chanting, “Bathroom bathroom bathroom…” “Get in line!” Cara said, “There’s a line?” Meagan said, coming up after Dacy. “We got people in two showers,” Cara informed her. “Fuuuuck,” Meagan said. “How does this keep happening, guys?” “You need it too?” “We all do,” Meagan said, gesturing first to Dacy, then back to Zephyr, coming up behind her. “I really do,” Dacy said. She was marching in place, picking her feet up off the ground in mincing, careful steps, bare toes on the carpet. Her nails were painted red to match her dress. “Val, can I go ahead of you?” “Umm…” “I just drank a lot of rum and cokes and I really really really need to go,” Dacy said. “Hey, I just worked a five-hour shift with no breaks!” Cara said. “And I had some coffee to get through it. I’ve had to go for two hours!” She, too, was showing some signs of desperation: legs pressed close together. But frankly, Dacy looked much more desperate. Parker was, after all, a connoisseur of such things. “Dacy, can I get past you?” Meagan said. “I’m not cutting in line, I just wanna say hi to my lover.” “Oh, sorry, sure…” Meagan stepped up to where Parker was standing in the doorway. She kissed him hello, gave him a hug, and whispered in his ear, “Hey.” “Hey.” “Just enjoy it.” “Huh?” “Just enjoy it. I mean, what else can we do?” “You’re sure?” “Happy birthday.” He gave her a skeptical look. She shrugged. He tried to take it all in… Val, in front, was quiet. She was always quiet, but she wasn’t saying anything at all now. She didn’t seem to be showing any particular signs of desperation… other than a certain look in her eyes. Parker remembered how, long ago when she’d had to pee in a bottle in the back seat of Meagan’s car, she’d gone practically nonverbal first. There was a tension in all her body that spoke volumes, however. Cara, right behind her, was expressing herself more verbally than physically. “Two hours,” she repeated, as Dacy again begged to go ahead of her. “Two hours! And someone was in the staff bathroom when I got off! I was worried I wasn’t going to make it home!” Worried or not, she still didn’t seem too desperate by comparison. But her close-pressed legs had escalated to crossed legs. Dacy, on the other hand, was showing all sorts of physical signs. She looked and sounded a little drunk and a lot desperate. She was doing a somewhat wobbly pee dance, wriggling around a little bent over. As she turned this way and that, Parker had an excellent look at her cleavage—for as usual she had gone partying in a short dress. Underneath that dress, her thighs were clenched together, or crossed, or marching in place. “Fuck,” she said. “We drank a lot at the party, but we couldn’t go at the party. The line was too long!” She marched in place again, those magnificent breasts bouncing (her bra was clearly inadequate). But most telling of all was the look on her face: she was grimacing, eyes wide in panic. “It’s true,” Meagan chimed in. She was not showing the strain that Dacy was, but to Parker’s expert eyes she obviously needed to go: she was locked down tight. “I had the least of all of us, since I had to drive, and I had two beers. They were a while back,” she added quickly. “We were there a long while. Longer than I expected…” “Sorry!” Zephyr said. “I wanted to hear the band…” She, too, was all dressed up, but in a tight shirt and a miniskirt. She was also wriggling. Quite a lot, actually. “Shit,” she whispered, apparently to nobody, a look of fear in her eyes. “I had four…” Miranda stepped out of the bathroom. “Me first, me first!” Dacy begged. “We all gotta go, girl,” Cara said. “I am literally about to wet myself, Cara! Can’t you go downstairs?” “There’s someone in there!” “I think that’s Zach, actually,” Parker said. “Really?” Cara said. “Well, he damn well better let me in, or he’s sleeping on the floor tonight…” She headed downstairs quickly. “Val, please,” Dacy said. She was now bent over, legs crossed, clenched hand held straight down at her sides or making fitful motions, like she wanted to grab herself but didn’t dare. Meanwhile, her breasts were literally slipping out. “…Okay,” Val said. She didn’t look terribly happy—but Dacy appeared to be on the brink of crying, exploding, or both. “Ohthankgod,” Dacy said, and rushed in. She was hoisting the hem of her dress as she ran, and Parker caught a flash of ass. “I’ll be quick, I promise!” she said over her shoulder. She moved a little too quickly, perhaps—she tried to kick the door closed behind her, and it didn’t quite latch, so what came next was clearly audible. First the clatter of a toilet lid being flung up and banging off the tank, and then the hiss of a truly desperate piss, and then a moan of pure blissful relief. It all came awfully fast, though—so fast that Parker couldn’t envision how she’d had time to get her panties down. Maybe she hadn’t? (Maybe she wasn’t wearing any?) The pee stream hissed on quite a while. Dacy moaned again. Val looked pained; Zephyr didn’t so much moan as whimper. “Who’s in the other bathroom? Mitchell?” Meagan asked. “Yeah,” Parker answered. “Hey, Mitchell! Can you hurry up?” Meagan said, knocking on the closed door. “I’m going as quick as I can! I’m all over shampoo!” Mitchell hollered. The toilet flushed and all three girls still waiting reacted: Val instantly crossed her legs, Meagan tensed up still further, and Zephyr… well, she was already bent over, one hand clinging to the railing of the stairs. The other hand reached under her miniskirt and just grabbed. She was shuddering. Dacy emerged, blushing a little. Val, moving with far more urgency and hurry than Parker had ever seen other than out on the athletic field, darted into the bathroom behind her, closing the door more carefully. There was a flash of urgency mixed with relief on her face that cut through her usual reserved expression. “Oh my god,” Dacy said, looking down the steps. “Zephyr, that looks painful.” “It is,” Zephyr said in a small voice. “I’m almost…” “Just a bit longer,” Dacy said encouragingly, stepping down past Meagan to Zephyr’s side. Zephyr shook her head. “I’m leaking,” she whispered. “What?” “My panties are wet…” “Oh, hon,” Dacy said, and hugged her roommate—carefully. “That does it,” Meagan said. “I’m taking you in with me.” Zephyr’s eyes widened. “Really?” “Yup.” The toilet flushed again. Zephyr crossed her legs over her hand. Her head was ducked and Parker couldn’t see her face, but the shivering could be the last moments before an uncontrollable explosion—or sobs. “Nearly there,” Dacy said, reassuringly. Val stepped out. “Didn’t even wash my hands,” she said. “Go go go!” Dacy said to Zephyr. “I can’t move...” “Just ten feet to go,” Dacy said, literally helping the bursting girl up the last steps. “You want the toilet or the tub?” Meagan said, already unbuttoning her jeans, as Zephyr tottered toward the bathroom door. “I’ve never peed in a bathtub…” Zeph said in a husky voice. She was definitely about to explode in both piss and teers. Walking double, one hand still clenched between her legs, she inched into the bathroom. “Here, I’ll show you how,” Meagan said, and closed the door behind them. Parker stepped back into his room to avoid listening (and to avoid being caught listening). He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples, feeling the churn of images and emotions in his head. So much desperation, all at once. It was a dream come true. So why didn’t he feel like it? He was barely even stiff. He lay back on the bed. The answer’s obvious, really. I’d rather have Meagan forever than five—or ten, or fifty—desperate girls in my hall. They’re sure taking a long time in there. The door opened and Meagan stepped into the room. She had a bemused look on her face. “Better?” Parker asked. “Bladder-wise? Of course. Brain-wise…? Very different story.” “Why, what’s up?” She sat down on the bed next to him. “Zephyr just kissed me.” “For letting her use the bathroom with her?” “Ummm… I guess?” “Man, you never give me a peck on the cheek when I let you go!” “Uh.” “What?” “Not a peck on the cheek.” “…Wait. Lips?” “Oh yeah.” “Zephyr kissed you. On the lips.” “Uh-huh.” “I am so confused right now.” “Right there with you, hon…” Meagan shook her head. “Fuck. I should talk to her.” “Yeah, I think you should!” “But I wanted to check on you. You didn’t really look like you were enjoying all that.” He shrugged. “No consent.” And I wish that was the reason I was bothered… “Aww. You’re so good!” “Well. That wasn’t the only reason.” “Hmm?” He opened his mouth, tried to say, I’m losing you—and closed it again. She stroked his hair. “Hey. You can say it. Whatever it is.” “I’m—worried.” “About?” “Us.” She lay down next to him and kept stroking. “Are you worried about the sex? And how we haven’t been having enough of it lately?” “Uh—yeah. That’s part of it.” “I know you’ve been jacking off,” she said. “Were you fantasizing about other girls?” “…Yeah.” She nodded slowly. “Sorry.” “Hey. I’m not happy about it. I wish you hadn’t. But I get why you did it.” She sighed. “I was afraid grad school would eat our sex life… but after I went, not just from trying to get in.” He said nothing. “Were you fantasizing about Zephyr?” she asked. He managed to whisper, “Yes.” She nodded again. “Are you angry?” “Well, irritated. But we both know it was pretty much impossible to avoid her. Besides, tonight your fantasy came to life—and you actually don’t want it.” “I want you.” She smiled sadly. “And so the battle began. Desperate girls: turn-on! Massive guilt: turn-off!” “About right.” “No wonder you’re freaking out.” “Yeah. But why aren’t you?” “Because I saw your face. If you’d been drooling I’d be so jealous, I’d be screaming at you right now. Or worse, not screaming.” He shuddered in memory. “But you so obviously looked so uncomfortable. Honestly, you seemed almost as bad as we looked. How can I be jealous of Zeph when she ties you in knots like that?” “You’re really not jealous?” She shook her head. “Sad, yes. Worried, yes. A little ticked off and frustrated, yes. Jealous? No.” They lay there for a while. “We should probably talk,” Parker said. “Yeah. You wanna do that now?” “Not really.” “Me neither. It’s late and I’m exhausted and we’ve got all of break to do that.” She laid a gentle hand on his chest. “But do you wanna make love?” “I just wanna hold you.” “I can live with that.” “Forever.” To that, she said nothing. --------------------------------------------------------------- They didn’t talk the next morning, hurrying off to class. And when Parker came home to celebrate the beginning of Spring Break, he saw Meagan and Zephyr sitting out back on the lawn chairs, clearly talking earnestly. He decided he wanted to give that conversation a wide berth. Some time later, Meagan came upstairs, looking even more bemused than the night before. “What’s up?” Parker asked. “So…” Meagan began, and stopped, and then opened her mouth again, and finally managed, “I really don’t know how to start this!” “Yeah, that’s pretty obvious!” “Zephyr’s got the hots for me.” “Huh. Did not see that coming.” “The kiss was a pretty big clue.” “Well, yeah, but before that.” “There have been some other hints, too. But here’s the thing: she also noticed that I was always putting myself at the back of the line for the bathroom. And then the way I was acting at the party… peeing in front of everyone, I guess, and making her piss outside…” ” Parker tensed up. “Yeah. She’s almost on to us. But not quite. She got the wrong idea—she thought it was my kink.” “Oh. Oh! Last night—was that a set-up?” “Yup. Not really totally premeditated, but she was feeling a little daring and desperate and so she decided to have some fun with it. I did notice she was stalling, keeping us at the party a long time… but it ended up waaaay worse than she thought it would be, since everyone else needed to go at the same moment. Anyway. We peed next to each other, in the bathtub, and she kissed me. Tried to seduce me through pee, I guess. She didn’t realize she had the wrong partner of the two.” “You didn’t tell her…?!” “Of course not. That’s your secret, not mine. But I did admit there’s a bit of a sexual rush when I hold it so long and then let it out. And she agreed.” “Whoa.” “Oh, we’re just getting started here. So apparently she hasn’t gotten laid in many months. She had a sexy Spring Break lined up to deal with that, but her plans fell through. So she knew she was gonna be stuck here, and she thinks I’m hot, and… well, she made a play.” Parker’s heartbeat was skyrocketing. “And what did you say to that?” “That I’m loyal to you, of course.” “That’s good to hear.” “Mmmhmm. I know we’re not doing great, hon, but I’m not about to jump in the sack with someone new because of a rough patch.” “Thank you. So… I guess this week could be a little awkward.” “Wellll…” “Well what?” “When I told her that I was sticking with you, she offered me a threesome.” This can’t be happening. “With pee.” This definitely can’t be happening. And he said so. Meagan shrugged. “I guess it is, though.” “What did you tell her?” “That I needed to talk with you.” “Not a ‘no’? Really?” “So… I know things haven’t been great between us lately…and I thought maybe that… this could help?” “You’d seriously be okay with a threesome?” “I’m in college! Lesbian experimentation is totally legit…” “But you’d be okay with sharing me?” “The way she framed it, you’d be sharing me with her. She says you’re a good friend and all, but she’s definitely much more into me.” “I meant in terms of jealousy. Me getting turned on by her. Her getting desperate for—well, for both of us.” She shrugged. “I guess I’m trying to tackle the jealousy thing head-on. Try to get myself past it.” “I still can’t believe this…” “I know. But anyway. I really wouldn’t mind trying it out. Zeph’s cute and sweet and I know she can get you fired up. You said as much last night. But I can also see the flip side, and why you wouldn’t want to. “So it’s your call, love. What do you say?”
  2. Hello, all my lovely readers. This story will be a little different; more along the line of a "clip show", perhaps, focusing on short incidents rather than developing a big story around just one. It's also a bit different in that this story focuses primarily on the story of Meagan and Parker and their relationship, more so than the kink (and sometimes via the kink). I confess I'm doing that a lot -- I caught myself today after writing 2500 words and multiple scenes without a bit of omo content. I promise you that there will still be sexy stuff in these stories, but I'm enjoying writing these two kids just for their own selves, and we're getting farther and farther into "novel with some fetish content". But then, that's why I started writing this, so you should know what I'm up to by now. The usual plugs: Seasons 1 and 2 are available in PDF (with bonus content) by request/trade; PM me. For Season 3 so far: Road Trip The Trouble with Housemates Rainy Sunday Flipping the Script Without further ado, here's the first Moment. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Thursday, November 10th, 2005 8:19pm Zephyr had to pee again, obviously so. But there was Halo 2 to be played, and this level was proving tough. Travis was there, but he wasn’t really watching; he was doing something on his computer, his back to the room. Zephyr was sitting on the couch—well, sitting on her heel on the couch—that Lucy had picked up at a garage sale. Lucy herself was at the barn. Dacy was out with Clark. Meagan was, once again, at the library. Parker was lounging in the beanbag chair off to the side, eyes switching back and forth between the screen and Zephyr’s body. Tension was written on all her muscles, concentration was all over her face. Especially her lip, which she was biting. It was entirely possible she’d forgotten that Parker was even in the room. He’d decided he wouldn’t remind her. There was also a trick to this particular level that Parker knew, and that he suspected Zephyr also knew, but that she had probably forgotten. He’d decided he wouldn’t remind her of that, either. Back and forth went his eyes… “Fuck.” The whispered word brought his eyes whipping back around to lock onto her body. If his time with Meagan had taught Parker anything, it was what a woman looked like when she was on the verge of peeing whether she wanted to or not. I should offer to take over. If I do, she’ll go pee and I can’t watch her anymore. Zephyr was breathing hard now. I really should say something. “Hey, want me to take over?” Her eyes flicked to him, then back to the screen. “Naw, I got this,” she said. Can’t say I didn’t offer. And then, not too long later, she got it after all. She breathed out, a long shuddering exhale, and set the controller down. She wedged a hand between her legs and stood up. But not all the way up—she stayed a little hunched over. Half-crouched like that, she ran from the room. The bathroom was right next door, but apparently someone was in there. Parker heard Zephyr whimper, heard her bare feet running across the carpet, heard her charging up the stairs. Parker ran over all this in his head. Memorizing. Saving for later. Especially her bitten lip, and the whimper, the heel-sitting—and the determined, oddly sexy “I got this…”
  3. Hey, folks. A little longer and a little omo-ier this time. Enjoy it while it lasts... But first, the usual links to the previous stories. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------- February faded into March at last, and with March came mail for Meagan. First was a thin envelope from Stanford, expressing regrets—and second was a thicker one from the University of Illinois, expressing congratulations. Parker felt the worry-cloud lift, just a little. Then, in the same week, two more big envelopes arrived, one postmarked Los Angeles and the other postmarked Ann Arbor. Others followed, generally pretty big. “I got in,” Meagan said for the fourth time, surrounded by her congratulator mail. “I got in to Michigan and Washington and UCLA…!” Parker hugged her again. “I am so proud of you,” he said—and it was true. But UCLA and the University of Washington were making him uneasy. “We need to celebrate, beautiful,” said Dacy. “We need to celebrate in a serious way.” “Fuckin’ aye we do,” Meagan said. “I have worked so fuckin’ hard for this. I have earned my alcohol!” “And then some, I’d say,” Parker murmured. “I’m not going to ask where you’re going yet because I know you have no idea,” Dacy said, “and I think we should make a ‘Don’t ask’ rule for the party. A party foul for sure.” “Oh, I love the way you think,” Meagan said. “Should we have a theme?” “Hmmm… generalized triumph?” “A ‘we are the champions’ party? We can do that. When?” “Is this weekend too soon?” “Well, here’s the question, do you want this to be a classic Franklin House blowout? Or do you want it to be just you and your closest friends?” “Why can’t it be a blowout for my friends?” “Blowouts require at least a hundred people,” Parker put in. “It’s state law.” Meagan grinned. “And who’s to say I don’t have a hundred friends?” “Well, even if you don’t, you’re still in the ‘shindig’ bracket.” “Well, that’s mighty fine. Dacy, I want to invite everyone I know.” “Okay, that might take some organizing. Can we put it off until next weekend? Just four days is a little too tight. Not a lot of time to line up kegs and get the decorations. We’ll put it up on Facebook, that’ll save time on the invites… oooh, question. Toga party? That would simplify.” “Ummm—no.” “Laurel wreaths fit with victory and are commonly associated with toga parties.” “Still no.” “Okay! I’ll need to branch out a little…” “I have great faith in you.” -------------------------------------------------------------------- In the end, Dacy outdid herself. The first thing she did was get the Facebook event organized; the second thing she did was hit both eBay and every thrift store she could find for old trophies, medals, and paraphernalia and apparel from championship teams (of any level). She lined up a keg of PBR (“It won a blue ribbon, after all!”). She draped Franklin’s main room with posters of Olympians, Super Bowl winners, and “Congratulations!” signs. Guests were instructed to come in appropriate garb. To get themselves ready, the Franklin House crew (or at least those who were drinkers) each knocked back a shot of gin. Then Dacy produced Meagan’s costume for the evening: yes, a crown of laurels. (The rest of what Meagan was wearing: a faded “2002 National Champions Ohio State” t-shirt, and her usual jeans.) She immediately put the crown on, said “I’ll drink to that!” and took another shot. Then she added, “Whew, that’s enough of the hard stuff for me, I think…” She did indeed switch to beer thereafter, alternating with swigs from her veteran water bottle. As more people flowed in, the party started ramping up. There was music and dancing and beer pong. After a time there was an outcry for Meagan to take her turn at the latter, and so she and Dacy teamed up against Trav and Clark, who had won the previous match. Since Dacy and Clark were dating, sparks flew, words were exchanged, and the battle was well and truly on. After Clark sank a couple of early shots, Dacy began distracting him with cleavage. She was wearing a dress that was, for once, long enough—but also fairly low-cut. She must have been wearing a truly rugged bra, because despite all the bouncing and dancing she never actually popped out. But said bra was doing a marvelous job of highlighting her already-impressive cleavage, and Parker didn’t know how on Earth Clark could concentrate. Parker certainly couldn’t, especially after Dacy roped Meagan into her “seductive distracting” attempts too. In perhaps her most impressive feat of the game, Dacy managed to catch an overshot ball with her boobs, which won considerable applause and a whoop from Zephyr, but even such heroics couldn’t win the game and soon the girls had drained all their little red cups. Meagan came over to where Parker was leaning against the wall, took a drink from her actual beer cup (helpfully labeled “FOR GRAD STUDENTS ONLY” in black Sharpie), took a different drink from her water bottle, kissed Parker thoroughly, and then cuddled up to him. “Hey,” he said. “Hey.” “I was rooting for you.” “Darn straight you were.” “You fought the good fight.” “All my throwing skills have been thrown off by playing Ultimate so long. I can only throw things that are flat now! I have no idea at all about arc…” “Heh. Nice one.” “What?” “ ‘Thrown off.’ ” “…Yeeeessss. I totally meant that. Well done spotting it,” she said, with a shifty look. “I love you,” he said, and kissed her hair just below her crown. “Love you too. Want proof?” “Hmmm?” She leaned in to whisper, “Gotta pee.” “After all that beer, I’m not surprised in the slightest.” “If I pee now, though, I’ll break the seal.” “Such a conundrum.” “I guess I’ll just have to hold it.” “That’s too bad.” “Isn’t it just? C’mon, let’s dance.” “One way or another,” he murmured in her ear. She laughed, caught him in her arms, and swung him into the dancing. The music was victory-themed too, but only to a point; one could only play “We Are the Champions,” “Eye of the Tiger,” and “Nothing’s Gonna Stop Us Now” so often. Chumbawamba’s biggest hit featured prominently, but it gave way to Franz Ferdinand’s “Take Me Out,” and “All Star” faded into “Hey Ya!”—which is not exactly a victorious song once one listens to the lyrics. But Meagan was reveling in every moment, her hair fanning out around her as she moved. She managed to hold it a surprisingly long time, perhaps because her dancing served more than one purpose. But she couldn’t keep dancing forever, and finally she pulled Parker out of the crowd. She leaned back against the nearest wall, steadying herself with one hand, and pulled him toward her by the shirt with the other. She kissed him long and hard, then said, “So, wanna reenact our first meeting?” “In the bathroom?” “Exactly. Only this time I get to pee there. C’mon.” She led him by the hand to the big downstairs bathroom, which as usual had the keg set up with ice in the shower. Mitchell was manning the keg at this point. “Gotta pee!” Meagan announced as they entered. “Here?” Mitchell said. “It’s my party and I’ll piss where I want to,” Meagan answered. “Heh, I like that…” “I’ll clear out, then,” Mitchell said. “Oh, no need,” Meagan said, undoing her belt. “Uh—you’re sure?” “I have nothing to hide!” she proclaimed grandly with a sweep of her arm. And then, to Parker’s startlement, she dropped her pants and panties and seated herself on the toilet. “Here, lover,” she said. She grabbed his hand and held it to her chest, which did serve to keep him between her and those seeking beer, but mostly it served for him to feel, more than hear, her sigh of relief and the relaxation of tension. She calmly wiped, stood, re-clothed herself, and flushed. Then she kissed him. “I love you,” she said. “I’m so lucky I met you here. Right here in this room.” “I’m so lucky that wasn’t the last time I ever saw you.” “Yeah, that too.” “Let’s hear it for hedgehogs.” “Yay hedgehogs!” She led him by the hand into and down the hallway toward Trav and Lucy’s room. She leaned against the wall again, pulled him close, and made out with him for a while. She might have kept them there longer, but then they heard Zephyr saying, “Eww, get a room!” “Got one already!” Meagan shot back. “Well, use it!” “That’s all the way upstairs! It’s my party, I’ll kiss where I want to.” “I’m sensing a theme,” Parker murmured. “It’s a good theme. I like it.” “Well, okay," Zephyr said, "but when you’re done I want you as my partner for more beer pong.” “Oh, shit, I didn’t realize it was an emergency! I’ll drop everything… which I guess means Parker…” “Hey!” Zephyr laughed. “We’ve got next game, that’s all.” Their opponents were a rather sloshed couple of guys, Gavin and Luis, friends of Meagan’s from the Psych department. Meagan continued to be unable to throw a ball on an arc (at one point she tried to use her Ultimate skills, and rather than sinking the ball she caroomed it off of Cara’s head as she passed by), so Zephyr had to do most of the actual scoring—and she wasn’t much good either. But since the other two guys were not the best at fine motor skills at the moment, the game moved a little slowly. Then Zephyr took a page from Dacy’s defensive-distraction playbook and upped the ante: just as Gavin was about take a shot, Zephyr flashed him. This did indeed make his shot go rather wild, so after Meagan took her turn (and missed again), Zephyr repeated the tactic with Luis. Then she sank a ball and, screaming with triumph, pulled a Brandi Chastain and stripped off her shirt. But unlike Chastain, Zephyr wasn’t wearing a bra. Nor did she put her shirt back on, instead posing in profile to ruin Gavin’s throw. When Meagan realized what was going on, she yelped and clapped her hands over Zephyr’s breasts. But Zephyr simply laughed and said, “Oooh, even better.” She grabbed Meagan’s hands in hers, holding them caught, and took a step back against Meagan, thrusting her butt back against Meagan’s crotch and grinding a bit. Gavin’s next throw missed the table entirely. Meagan pulled her hands away, but Zephyr refused to put her shirt back on—and kept encouraging Meagan to take off her own. Meagan didn’t, to Parker’s relief—nor did Zephyr repeat her bump-and-grind performance. But Meagan did strike a pose or two, and didn’t object when Zephyr draped an arm over her shoulder or around her waist for the sake of distraction. With Meagan’s lack of skill and Gavin’s mind being elsewhere, it really came down to Zephyr versus Luis, and Zephyr won by one cup. Since the game was really just an excuse to get more beer into them, however, everyone was a winner! Or at least so Zephyr claimed. Having drunk several cups of beer, Meagan announced she was cutting herself off—at least for a while. She had a lot of water to catch up on, however, and she kept sipping from her bottle. Zephyr drank a little water too, at Meagan’s urging—and then the beer started hitting them both in earnest, from two directions. Zephyr’s behavior was getting wilder. She hadn’t put her shirt back on. It was pretty warm in the house, with all the people, but still, she was mostly flaunting. Parker just couldn’t figure out who she was flaunting for. Was she hitting on Gavin? Gavin seemed to think so, for he’d stayed pretty close. Or was it for Parker? For Zephyr was staying pretty close to him and Meagan. Zephyr’s jokes got raunchier and her poses more explicit and her movements less coordinated. And then she burst out, “Oh fuck, I gotta piss!” ------------------------------------------ To be continued...
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