You simply did what other college girls do: go out to a party, just to see if you like it, then pick up something fine to take home for the night. Or at least get a number…something. That’s how you ended up at your college’s late night event for the Zetas, and the whole block was shut off for some good fun. You also did what single, slightly tipsy, college girls would do: dance on women instead of men because seven times out of ten, the men will try to breach boundaries and you don’t have the time for that.

You didn’t know who you were dancing on but the feminine hands adorned by sharp acrylic nails brought comfort. You two were swaying and grinding it out to When I’m In Your Arms by Cleo Sol. It meant nothing- well it was supposed to, but your body couldn’t risk leaving the safety of that woman. That tatted, cocoa butter smelling, fit, woman.

Marley, you discovered her name after pillow talking- yeah, you ended up in her bed, whispering to each other as if she had a roommate and not a high rise apartment just shy of two blocks down from campus. You picked up on a few things; architectural engineering major, only child, a Capricorn if that matters, definitely into women, and she thinks you’re beautiful. How haven’t you noticed her? Someone who looks, smells, and sounds this good shouldn’t have been kept hidden from you.

“You should stay…” Her hand had been resting on your hip for an hour now, her thumb tracing gentle, coercive circles into your skin. You felt velvety, so smooth under the satin sheets. “I know how to make a mean French toast with eggs, however you like, I also got fruit if you want it.” She offered in that feminine yet raspy voice, a siren call stuffed into a body.