Calendar Girl

Clack. The lights splashed us.

"Okay, let's try something else. Curly, look over at him. Smile. Be amused that you're here reading a book while he just sits there showing his ass to the camera." The tendons in her neck stirred, my hyperawareness catching the play of her muscles as she half-turned toward me, and amazingly she looked at my eyes. Hers were a warm brown, and the wrinkles alongside them told me she wasn't just pasting on a smile. She actually liked this.

I caught her gaze as the camera snapped again. "Good," Stacia was muttering, and carefully I dropped my eyes down my own body, past my furry chest and down to where I had the thickest, stiffest hard-on I'd ever had. Back up to her eyes, then back down, and she got the message; her eyes followed mine to my dick, and I heard a little hitching gasp.

When I looked back up, she was grinning even wider, her eyes shining.

"Good!" For the first time ever, Stacia sounded genuinely amped. "Perfect! You guys are so natural!" I could tell Jenn wanted to burst out laughing, the pressure of holding it in showing itself in apple-red cheeks and a slight shake to her body, a jiggle of her nipples. "It's like you're really into this."

Her eyes burned into mine, the smile wide and warm, and goddamn if my cock didn't stay just as hard, pointing up along my belly like an inviting finger.

"A few more..." And now I began to worry. It wasn't like I could do anything but wait around for my dick to go down. And, obscurely, I had no interest in standing up and facing Stacia and Rebecca like this. I had nothing to be ashamed of, I knew; this was the most impressive my cock had looked in quite awhile, and I was sure Rebecca would spread the word to my benefit with The Girls.

But I found I didn't want that. This was Jenn's hard-on, and I wanted it to stay with her. Only her.

"That's a wrap!" Stacia announced at last, and Jenn immediately snapped her book shut.

"Let me get your bathrobe for you, Mikey," she smiled. "You've been such a gentleman." She stood, then, watching me watch her, and stretched her arms high in the air, her tits shuddering proudly, her legs slightly parted. I saw that her pussy was bright pink and felt my cock lurch once more. "You just stay put."

"Why, thanks Jenn!" Fuck, I needed relief. I needed somebody, anybody, to lock their mouth around my balls. I needed a vagina to spread around my head. Heck, I needed a hand, my own if necessary, to let the pressure out. But instead, I got Jenn standing over me with my bathrobe in her hands, smiling down, holding it so that I could get up with my back turned to the others. "Thanks. Really," I said, much more quietly.

"Come on." Her voice was full of giddy laughter, carefully suppressed. "I'm maybe a good friend, right?" She stayed close as I slid my arms in, then pulled the front around my body. My cock jutted out thick and straight, and she leaned over me to glance down at it. I smelled coconut. "My god," she managed.

"Look," I explained, my voice low, "I'm sorry. I don't know what happened."

"I do," she said at once. "And I'm the one who's sorry."

I pulled my dick up to the vertical, thinking I could tie the belt right over it. She was still there, flushed now, her own robe only loosely tied. She'd stepped back to give me room. "What do you have to be sorry about?"

"Mikey," she shook her head, "I have a boyfriend. I know what blue-balls are."

I laughed, finally getting myself put together. A little. "If your boyfriend talks to you about blue balls," I went on, "it sounds like it's something he wants you to fix."

She hesitated a moment, then leaned back in so she could whisper into my ear. "I always fix it," she said emphatically. "Always."

I turned at last, holding myself carefully; if I moved the wrong way, I knew I'd flop right back out. It would take a bit for this one to go down. I needn't have worried much, though; Stacia was packing up her stuff, Rebecca frowning into her phone. I smirked ruefully at Jenn. "Not this time, though."

She didn't look happy.

* * *

Classroom Management elective once more, and this time I was surprised to see that Jenn was already up near my seat at the back, sitting easy with her feet up high on the back of the seat in front of her. She was chewing thoughtfully on a bagel, watching the door for me. The other guy, on my other side, was seated too, and already I could see him glancing sideways at Jenn.

This setup was becoming a habit.

I eased past her knees, facing her, and we traded tentative smiles. "You okay?" she asked quietly, "down there?"

"What?" I sat, then laughed when I realized what she was asking. The blue balls. "Fine, thanks. I, uh, took care of things."

"Whew." She really did seem relieved. "Good. That looked..." she glanced down into my lap. "Painful?"

"I wouldn't call it that." I'd been a little worried about this conversation, honestly; how do you innocently pal around with a friend after she knows you want to fuck her? But so far so good. We were both grown-ups. "No pain, really, but the relief was... well. It was awfully nice."

"Mine too," she giggled, hesitating. "I was really, really excited." She took a breath. "You know why."

"I think so." Goddamn. Those eyes.

"Andrew didn't," she confessed, but she was smiling about it.

I raised my eyebrows. "Naughty!"

"Well." Jenn shrugged modestly. "What he doesn't know won't hurt him. He certainly enjoyed it," she gloated, her eyes gleaming like they had on the loveseat. "Um, did your Jacqui know?"

"Know what?"

"That you..." She trailed off, her eyes going wide... and angry. "Wait. Didn't she fuck you?"

"She's studying for her licensing exam. Dental hygienist. It's a lot to learn." I cocked my head, confused; she was really, really pissed. "Wait. Are you angry, Jenn?"

She bit her lip and shook her head, as emotional as I'd ever seen her. "I shouldn't intrude," she sighed primly, "but when your man is in, like, the state you were in? You fuck him!"

"Well, uh, sure." She was making a real effort to be quiet, but she wasn't doing all that well. Good thing the lecture hall was almost empty. I glanced around to make sure the undergraduate was minding his earbuds, at least nominally.

Jenn nodded, her eyes narrow, her pretty lips twisted into a scowl. "I'm offended, Mike. On your behalf."

"That's really not necessary," I began, but she wasn't interested in hearing from me.

"You always, always take care of your man," she grated. "Always. And if you can't, well, then some other woman should."

Wait. What the fuck was she saying here? "Uh, Jenn," I began, but she still wasn't interested.

"That's it. I don't mean to criticize your woman, but to me it's pretty simple." She frowned. "Wait, Mike. That means you, uh, took things into your own hands?" She shook her head, appalled. "Disgraceful."

"What?" I smiled. "Was I supposed to tell Jacqui she needed to fuck me because some other woman had gotten me all worked up?"

"Pshaw." She flapped her hand dismissively. "I did nothing. I just sat there."

"I know." I watched as the professor came quickly to the podium. "That's the weird part."

* * *

December was going to be one last picture, Stacia working with no assistant because every single person in the department was supposed to be in the shot. Well, other than Jeff Reagan. And Margaret Mayfield, whom I hadn't seen since that very first meeting; she seemed to have skedaddled right after the lingerie shoot.

All the rest of us would be there, and the concept involved us sitting and lying on bookshelves. It was a good idea, but there were ten of us (Counting Chelsea Whicker, who'd promised to show up) and it was a problem finding enough shelving that would support us. Well, support me. And Erin. And Brandi and, possibly, Jenn; she and I were just too tall to cram into a library shelf. Everyone else weighed about ninety pounds or was five feet tall or both.

"Hmm." This was the kind of puzzle Stacia seemed to enjoy solving, and while she figured it out we moved all the books off the shelves and into piles. This was done, of course, with great care and precision: all of us were library students, so the least we could do was to keep the fucking books in order. Then we trooped off into the corner where our robes were hanging, and with just about no self-consciousness we all got naked together.

Amazing. A month ago, it never would have occurred to me that I'd ever get to see any of these people without clothes. Now, Rebecca Temple was brushing her tits along my arm while she turned to get her robe and neither of us thought anything of it.

"Okay!" The photographer thought she'd figured it out. She stood up on a table and rallied us together. "Gather 'round, kids!" She glanced around. "Missing anybody?"

"Just Chelsea," Jenn shrugged. I had a hard time keeping my eyes off her nipples behind the sheer robe.

"Chelsea? Who the fuck is Chelsea?"

"She works at Secret Whispers. She got us the underwear for the lingerie shoot."

"Oh!" Stacia nodded. I'd been given to understand that in addition to her fee of $50 per shoot, Stacia had received an excellent bra-and-panty set stolen especially for her. She seemed pleased. "Okay. I don't like lateness, but it can't be helped. Fine. She'll fit on a shelf, though?"

Jenn hesitated. "Well. A long shelf."

"Fuck her," Stacia snapped. "She can roll up into a ball. That's hers; third shelf up, on the left. Okay. Some of you fatties aren't going to fit for whatever reason, so you'll all be kneeling on the floor."

Silence.

"Doing what?" I asked at last.

"Shelving the fucking books." Stacia said it as though it was obvious. "That's you, Boobs, Earrings, and Curly. You guys will be putting books in next to the shortest girls. That's Waxjob, Asian Chick, and Tape-girl. Then Dreads and No-boobs above them, plus this Chelsea bitch. And if she doesn't show, we'll put some books on that shelf. Sound good?"

It did, and when Chelsea came sprinting in, her hair carefully styled, the picture was all set. Stacia eyed her sourly. "I remember you. From the lingerie shoot." She sniffed. "Third shelf up from the bottom, Thongy. On the right. Get your clothes off and climb on up; we're about to get started." Yowling followed; the metal shelves were chilly on naked flesh, but in the end we all did our jobs.

I found myself shelving a book called Hell In A Very Small Place (nonfiction, B. Fall, DS 550.F28) while using the smoothly plucked ass of a giggly Olivia "No-boobs" Brewer as my bookend. Stacia had changed her mind and had me stand up, reaching to the top shelf, meaning my cock dangled in the grinning face of Aimee "Asian Chick" Choi. The whole thing was surreal, especially when Aimee urged me to give a twitch during the photographer's coffee break.

I obliged, to general cheers, until Stacia finally lowered her camera. "Ladies and Penis?" she called, "that's a wrap."

"I'm having a party tonight," Megan announced loudly after we'd all started changing. I was just pulling my shirt down. "All you fucking perverts are invited, too!"

"Ooh!" Liv squealed. She touched my arm. "How about it, Twitchy? Wanna party?"

She stood there in nothing but her panties, looking gorgeous with her orange hair and her tight little body, but I didn't even hesitate. Never, never, never shit where you eat, I reminded myself. I saw a brief future where I went over to Meg's apartment, got wasted, and ended up in a three-way with her and Liv. And after that? Real awkwardness in the whole department: tension, drama, and all the shit I had no time for. "Probably not, Liv." Besides, I wanted to get laid tonight.

"Aww." She pushed her lip out into a cute pout while sliding her bra up her arms. "But then who will I dance with?"

I barely heard this; my phone had just informed me that Jacqui would call me later to figure out whether she was coming over. I frowned.

Fuck.

"Well. Fine. Be a party-pooper." And then she slapped my ass again, sighing. "See you around then, Twitch." She leaned in on her tiptoes and planted a surprisingly gentle kiss on my cheek. I was watching her bend over to get her pants when I felt a tap on my shoulder.

"Party-pooper, hmm?" It was Jenn, still in her robe after writing Stacia's check. She smiled shyly at me.

"Jenn." I smiled back. "Great job with this calendar. Thanks for asking me."

"Aww." She threw her arms around me, but then she'd been doing that to everyone all afternoon. Jenn was an enthusiastic hugger. This really was a feather in her cap. The calendar would sell like crazy; everyone knew it. My cock, of course, spasmed in my shorts as she pressed her body to mine. And I didn't care if she felt it. "Thanks, Mikey. That means a lot to me." She stepped back, but stayed close; her cleavage was pinking up, and she held my gaze. "So. Any hot plans tonight?"

I looked at her, my phone still in my hand. Beside her eye corkscrewed a thick twist of her hair, and once again I suppressed the urge to sweep it aside. Instead, I looked away so I wouldn't be tempted by her nipples. "Well," I drawled at last, "I was thinking I might just go home. Maybe curl up with a good book." Wait for my girlfriend to come over and get thoroughly fucked, I didn't say.

Her face changed, becoming warmer. More intimate. "And a good friend?"

I thought about Jacqui's text. "Hopefully," I admitted.

"Yeah." She drew her robe closed slightly. "I'm not sure I've got one handy, either. But curling up with a book sounds nice."

I cleared my throat. "Come on over?" I smiled when I said it, making sure she'd know I was joking.

She laughed gently. "I really should go to Meg's," she sighed, then flickered a glance at me. "For a bit, at least."

"So should I." It was out there on the table. I felt a weird sense of abandon. "And yet? I'm not."

"No," she shook her head. "But you're not in charge of all this. I am."

"It's over, Jenn." I jerked my chin toward Stacia, who had already fired up a blunt. "She said so." I licked my lips, then looked away at where Peyton was buttoning her shirt. No bra. I wondered whether Stacia was invited to Meg's, and how long it would take before she and Peyton got it on in a bathroom. I shouldered my backpack. "I'd say if you want to curl up with a book, you damn well oughta."

"Yeah," she mused, fidgeting with her knot. After a pause, she smiled at me. "Well. You enjoy curling up."

"Always." I was sure she could see my dick poking at the front of my shorts as I turned away. "Catch ya."

* * *

I'd just gotten out of the shower and I was trying to decide what kind of porn to watch when I heard my phone vibrate. Fuck! Thank God. The "Jacqui" kind of porn, live and in person, would do nicely. I was already thinking about the kind of fucking I'd lay on her when up came a shimmering text. From a different girl.

Curled up yet? It was Jenn.

Sure, I lied. She took her time responding, and when she did, I heard myself gasp.

What's your address? I might take you up on your invite.

A dozen reasons told me why I should tell her not to. They crowded my mind immediately, without any prompting, and I poised my thumbs to punch out the message at once. I should have.

But her knock came on my apartment door not quite fifteen minutes later, because I punched out a different message instead. A street number. Then another one, telling Jacqui I was planning on an early night tonight. Which was why I was all nervous and keyed up as I took a deep breath and reached for my doorknob. The door opened to Jenn, wearing running shorts and a tanktop. She smiled wanly as she held up a battered paperback copy of a Christopher Moore book, the one about Jesus. "I like that book."

Her smile broadened. "Does that mean I can come in?"

"Just a sec." I made a show of peering at the binding. "It's not a library book," I said in disgust. Jenn's lips pursed.

"Gee. I'm sorry." She bowed her head in mock contrition. "I borrowed it from my sister."

"Ah." I arched an eyebrow. "But did she buy it, or get it from the library?"

She was nodding seriously. "An excellent question."

"Because, as budding library professionals, well, I think we should be supporting the institution."

"Yeah." She was still nodding. "You should let me in, Twitchy."

I laughed and stepped aside with a slight giddiness in my brain, not to mention a lurch in my groin. She was humming as she came in, the two of us weirdly at ease. "Nice place," she threw out, and we both knew she was lying: this was student housing, a temporary hideout for six decades' worth of grad students who'd come, left their mark, and then abandoned the place to a fresh coat of paint and most of the same furniture.

"It's got a TV, anyway," I shrugged. "That's more than my dorm had in college. See? I'm moving up in the world."

She threw her hair back with a jerk of her head. "So, I'm going to curl up. Is this the only sofa?"

"Yup." It was a faded, patchy mess, but still sound and surprisingly comfortable. I watched as she plopped easily against the arm of the couch on the far side, stepping out of her sandals as she drew up her legs. I was frowning when she glanced up at me, her eyes asking what was wrong. "You're in my seat, Jenn."

"Tough shit, Mike," she giggled. "I'm your guest. I should get the best spot, right?" She tossed her head once more, then opened her book. "Take a seat, Mikey. I don't bite."

"Does this make me a good friend?" I asked, sprawling sideways on the other end. My bare feet rested lightly against her butt, and she said nothing about it. "You know, being curled up with you?" I cursed myself; I'd failed to offer her anything to drink, and now it was probably too late.

She rolled her eyes. "You're hardly curled, bud. And besides, that was just for the caption. Different circumstances."

"What? Like, I was only a good friend for the shoot?" She hadn't stopped smiling since she'd come in, and I was already half-hard.

"The shoot. The caption," she agreed. "The nudity. The loveseat. That's when we were good friends."

I nodded thoughtfully, then took a deep breath. "I liked being good friends."

"So did I," she replied at once, and then her smile grew crafty. "I could tell you liked it."

My cock surged in my pants. Her face was alive, vibrant, her grin infectious. "That's right," I mused. "You could." I swallowed and made sure to steady my voice, pretty sure now where this was going. "We should be good friends again. That's what I think."

"O ho!" She laughed loudly. "You think so, huh?" But her eyes were glittering again, and now her cheeks were all flushed. "No Stacia, though, with her camera." She snapped her fingers. "Darn. I was really looking forward to stripping again."

I nodded slowly, then reached behind me to the creaky little table where I kept my remote. And my phone. I swept the phone into my hand, thumbing the camera to life, and pointed it at her with a serious expression. Her eyebrows shot up. "You know what to do, Curly," I muttered.

"Goddamn," she marveled, shaking her head. "When you curl up to read, bud, you really mean business." But she was reaching for the hem of her tanktop, moving it up her body and over her breasts. Her bra was green lace. "Are you getting good shots, Twitchy?"

It hadn't even occurred to me to actually take any pictures, and I was too giddy to think about it on my own. "Of course not." I tossed the camera onto the coffee table. "I was only trying to get you out of your clothes." My other hand reaching for my lap; my cock was hardening the wrong direction, and I made a show of adjusting it.

"Like you haven't seen it all," she mused, slipping out of her bra. "You could have just asked. As long as I'm not disappointing you." She tossed the bra carelessly over the back of the couch, her nipples swinging, and then set her book down on the cushion beside her. A thought seemed to occur to her as she started to push her shorts down, still curled sinuously on my sofa. "I'd like to see whether I am," she added, her voice catching just a bit at the end.