Chapter 18: Seeds of Destruction

By the time the first week was over, I'd mostly put Lawton behind me. Being thousands of miles away didn't hurt, and Elise was my rock and my best friend even when I wasn't in the mood for sex. We'd lost a couple of our classmates to transfers over the summer, leaving forty-five originals and two newcomers, a nineteen-year old boy from Wales, and a small, mousy girl from Italy.

Bitterwood had a pretty unique structure. The campus was ours during our two year stay, but there was another campus in Zurich where they hosted students that started in alternate years. The new enrollees were sent there, and we never saw them. It meant that the students had focus from resources and professors that lasted the entire stay, and everyone was essentially in the same classes.

There were exceptions. In my second year we were allowed to choose one elective course, and if at least three of us signed up, it was held. Otherwise, we'd be give other options and allowed to choose from them.

There were six options available, and the one that caught my eye was a literature course focused on Russian authors. I signed up, as did Elise, and we were joined by Sia, the Vietnamese girl, Gioung, a Chinese boy, and Tria, a blonde from Russia.

While I'd been there during the summer months, I'd read a lot of translations of Russian authors, and I found that I liked them a lot. The course started with Dostoyevsky's The Brothers Karamazov and would also include Radishchev's Journey from St. Petersburg to Moscow, and finished with Nabokov's Lolita. I was really looking forward to it, and the first week of classes made me very excited to learn more.

The first two months flew by. Elise and I were in love, kind to each other, our difficult summer behind us. She was getting away on weekends to practice on the slopes, and I often went with her. We had little time for each other those days, but I know she loved me being there as much as I loved going.

I started learning to play piano, and took lessons from two different professors who taught me during free time.

Tim left in the middle of the semester, his South African father ill. We hated to see him leave, but we understood that family came first. We lost Germond to an infection that had him sent back to Munich to be close to his family. When he left, Elise and I drank a couple of bottles of wine and made love while we remembered our one night fucking him together.

Fucking Germond. Since Lawton, I'd not felt a stir for a man's touch at all. None. Not until Elise and relived that night and I grew wet thinking about how good he'd felt inside me. It was something I'd never feel again, not if Elise and I stayed together, which I desperately hoped would happen. I loved her, and I was willing to give up penises to stay with her.

But I was bisexual. Am. Sorta. Boys and Girls and ... I'm open to trying it from there. Then, though, I'd long before accepted that I drew no gender line around who I wanted to fuck, who I wanted to love. Elise and I talked after the Germond-inspired session.

"Do you think you'll miss it?"

She was confused, "what?"

"Cock."

"Cock?"

"Cock."

"Ah ... um ... I guess. I guess..."

"Me too." She looked at me funny, I quickly added, "not saying I want it, just saying ... I just ... I enjoyed it, you did too, I know. I guess I'll miss it."

It kinda cast a gloomy life over our future, this great mass of hard, swinging cocks that would be forever out of our reaches. It made an interesting image in my head, and I almost laughed.

"We could try something," Elise said.

My mind race with what she might suggest. It wasn't what I expected.

"I'll buy a strapon ... how's that sound. I could fuck you with it."

I'd certainly seen a video or two, hadn't thought that we might get one. "Ok," I said encouragingly, "that would be great. I want to fuck you too, you know. I get to wear the dick, too!"

She stuck out her tongue at me and a couple of nights later she brought home a five-inch strapon dildo, pink with black straps. I was impressed when she put it on and walked around with it bouncing, her smile proud and fun to watch.

I stripped and gave her 'head, ' taking the pink dildo between my lips and sucking. Elise laughed and said things like, "suck my cock, Carrie. Suck that cock."

She went down on me then, and I burned with desire as her tongue drove me higher. She didn't let me cum, flipped me over and pulled the dildo up to my labia.

It didn't work quite as well as advertised. Elise couldn't easily hold my hips and fuck me with it, she had to keep one hand on the strapon which tended to bend or flop out. Still, feeling Elise pounding against me, the dildo slipping in and out of my hole, brought back many memories of being fucked by Henri, by Michael, and I even let Lawton play in my mind.

I came around the dildo, Elise slapping my ass as she humped me. It felt great, the dildo a nice size the fit me just right, and if it had been a real cock in me, I'm sure I would have let it unload into my vagina.

I rode her with it later, and like her, I had trouble keeping the dong going. I fucked her doggy-style and, despite the issues with the dildo, she came twice while I pumped against her body.

The strapon didn't help my growing desire to be fucked by a man. Elise was amazing, even got better with the dildo, but it wasn't the same. It never felt like a man behind me, never felt like a warm, throbbing penis inside. The difference just made me want a cock in me that much more.

I didn't get to go with Elise to Oslo for the skiing trials, and I masturbated fiercely while she was gone, using the strapon dildo off the tethers, imagining several of my male classmates inside my vagina.

Elise earned a spot in the second and final trials to be held in March, again in Oslo. I was so proud of her. We fucked like rabbits the last month of the semester, with and without the dildo, and for a few weeks, I was able to push aside my urges for a cock.

Holiday break I went home and visited Mom. She was doing great, had been in a relationship for four months with a nice man who lived close to the base. I noticed she had a bit less time for me those weeks, and really, I was ok with it. Was happy for her.

I didn't run into Lawton, didn't try to, didn't know if he was even in town. I hoped I'd never see him again.

I did run into Michael, and after an hour of chatting over tea, I recognized warning sirens wailing in my head. I started to imagine him fucking me, looking at his smiling eyes, and I was strong enough to excuse myself and rub one out in the bathroom.

It helped, and I pushed the urges down again. It was close, but I'd handled it.

In January I returned to Bitterwood for what would be my final semester there. I had to start planning for my junior year, and I didn't even know where to start.

Naturally, Elise and I talked with certainty about where 'we' would go. There was no question about it. We would decide together and finish our degrees together. No question.

We looked at lots of options. Costs were a serious consideration, but the Dean assured us that Bitterwood had connections in many places and could insure that any graduate would have access to funds to attend any university in the world. Graduating from Bitterwood was a ticket anywhere.

So we considered big schools. Ivy League. Stanford. Oxford. Top universities in Paris, Moscow, even Tokyo. It wasn't easy to decide. We were both literature majors, and those degrees were offered most everywhere. We ruled out non-English schools as I hadn't picked up anything useful in Amsterdam despite the plethora of multi-lingual speakers from many nations who lived there.

I had my favorites list down to three: Harvard, Brown, and Cal-Berkeley. Unfortunately, Elise topped off with Stanford, Colombia, and Oxford. I scratched Brown, added Oxford. She scratched Stanford and added Harvard.

So, we were stuck. Four schools to choose from, two we both liked, and two only on one list. We applied to all four and let fate determine who accepted us both.