Chapter 1

Cheyenne and Heather were zipping down a rural road on a starry, moonless night. Following a hellish week of school finals, they decided on the spur of the moment to get away from the dorms! The mountainous terrain became dense and more remote as they snaked their way along a two-lane road. With no cell signal or GPS, they were lost!

The girls met during their freshman year at the University. It was a woman’s college. They were assigned a room in the dorms. It was two beds to a room. In such close quarters a person gets to know the other for better or worse. These two happened to enjoy each other’s company. Both young women, were well-matched, modest in behavior, and in how they dressed. They wore clothes that concealed their attractive bodies. They never flaunted their physical assets and purposely dressed down compared to the other girls at school.

Cheyenne was twenty, five-nine and beautiful. Brown eyes, long nose--courtesy of her Italian genes--full lips, and wavy auburn hair that grew past her shoulders. She usually kept it in a ponytail or sometimes in pigtails. Under her loose shirts were substantial, gorgeous breasts. (38DD). Being self-conscious about her size, she seldom exploited them for an advantage. She knew their power over men.

Since she was fourteen, she got used to the long stares by boys, young men and leering old men. She wouldn’t dare show her ample cleavage to influence a male professor in order to pass a test. Some girls did, but she refused objectifying her body like that.

“A guy’s just a guy,” she’d say to Heather, when they discussed the male teachers on campus. The sexual tension was rife at the school. That’s how things were. And there were many trysts between the male faculty and female students.

They liked to think of themselves as “normal girls”, as they put it, and not being noticed. They’d rather observe, judge, and gossip! Both were voyeurs by nature.

Heather was also beautiful. She was petite--about five-six. She had inquisitive, youthful blue eyes, a small nose, full lips and short, dyed black hair. Of the two, she was the naive one. (Cheyenne was much more cynical). Her loose garments concealed her smaller breasts (34B) and hot, bubble butt. Both girls joked about their butts.

Cheyenne said, “If we wore yoga pants, we’d both have boyfriends by now! Cuz they’d be fucking drooling at our hot asses!” She openly admired her figure in the wall mirror posing in her butt-hugging, white, lacey panties and matching bra. Heather smiled at her confident friend. She had to agree.

“I’ve seen dude’s checking your butt out, ya know, or at least trying to. You’re so covered up.” Heather remarked with a matter-of-fact tone.

“They do? Tell me next time who it is, so I can flirt with him”

“I’d ask you out if I was a boy, if that helps!” Heather joked and then realized what she’d just said.

Cheyenne looked puzzled at her friend and said, “Well, it doesn’t help!” She threw a pillow at her for being so cheeky. And then she got serious. “If you were a boy--you’d ask me out? Really? Thanks, I think.”

Heather often blurted out her unfiltered thoughts. So, she clarified herself. “I know I’m NOT a boy! This is awkward!” And she threw the pillow back at Cheyenne to lighten the mood.

Cheyenne looked at her friend again and said, “Theoretically, and I mean “theoretically”, if I was a dude and got a look at your butt and cute body, hell ya, I’d ask you out!”

For two straight girls to talk like this was not so unusual. Girlfriends support each other in ways that guys don’t. If they like an outfit their friend is wearing, they’ll tell them how hot they look. No big deal. However, a straight guy would never say that to another guy.

Girls admire other girls for their beauty. They seem to need that reassurance. However, these two said some things that revealed something to one another in a not-so-subtle way. That was as personal as either of them ever got. Was this “if I was a boy” phrase a way of saying they were attracted to each other?

“It’s their loss if they don’t ask us out,” Cheyenne said.

In such close quarters, it wasn’t unheard of to catch a glimpse of a roommate partially nude while changing. They’d seen each other topless a few times. When she first saw Cheyenne’s huge breasts untethered from her bra, sticking out unnaturally, she thought she must have had a boob job. Cheyenne noticed her mesmerized at her firm breasts and big, pink nipples.

“You’re staring, ya know. Makes me feel weird,” she said, not covering up, allowing her new friend to get all the view she wanted--to get it out of her system. She understood that her loose clothing hid them pretty well.

“Uh, sorry, I --are they real? If they aren’t I don’t judge, but they barely sag or anything.”

Cheyenne’s brow was furrowed as she puzzled over what she asked her. This wasn’t the first time she was “accused” of having fake breasts. “Ok, you can touch them! Is that what you wanted? They’re real, believe me. I’vd had back aches since I was fourteen. They’re definitely real. Go ahead. It doesn’t mean you’re (cupping her hand to the side of her mouth) a lez!” She laughed to break the tension.

Heather had never seen such big breasts, live, in person. Her nipples were so pink! “I-I believe you. I don’t need to touch them. They’re beautiful, though, and don’t take it the wrong way.”

Cheyenne smirked and put on her big bra. The show was over. She, too, caught a good view of Heather’s breasts.

Hers were small but with large, protruding, puffy nipples. She was self-conscious about them, and one time during a confessional moment, she remarked out of the blue, “I wish I had smaller nipples and bigger breasts--like you.”

“Really? Guys must LOVE your nipples. Lots to suck on, right? I think they look awesome.”

“Uh, yeah, well, I guess. One time this guy sucked on them so good that I had an orgasm! It was like it directly stimulated my clitoris!”

“Awesome, when I--well, I shouldn’t tell you.”

“Tell me, tell me!”