Prepping Her For College

Haley Reed offers the couch to Freya Parker like it’s no big deal. Jay Taylor steps out, phone already at her ear, and the air changes. Haley mentions dorm-room sex in college—quick, loud, someone’s roommate asleep ten feet away. Freya flushes pink. She’s never done any of it. The thought of showing up on campus untouched makes her stomach twist. Haley’s eyes drop to the silver hoops in Freya’s nipples, the faint outline pressing through her thin tank. She doesn’t stare; she just lets Freya feel seen. “If you want to practice,” she says softly, “I can show you.” Freya glances toward the closed door. Jay’s voice drifts through, calm and businesslike. Back here, Haley’s mouth is already brushing the blonde’s ear, warm and certain. Freya’s hands shake, but she doesn’t pull away. Haley slips the tank up, tongue flicking each pierced nipple until Freya’s breath hitches loud enough to be dangerous. She drops to her knees, easing Freya’s shorts down, tasting the heat between slender thighs. Freya’s hips jerk; she bites her own wrist to stay quiet. Haley’s tongue works in steady, filthy circles, two fingers sliding in when Freya’s knees threaten to buckle. They move to the floor, bodies pressed close, natural small breasts brushing. Haley guides Freya’s hand between her own legs, showing her how to rub, how to curl, how to listen for the catch in someone’s breath. Every time footsteps creak in the next room they freeze, grinning like teenagers, then start again slower, wetter. Freya comes first—silent, shaking, eyes wide at the sudden rush. Haley follows with a low, satisfied moan muffled against Freya’s neck. They straighten clothes, smooth hair, sit back on the couch just as Jay’s voice fades and the door opens again.