It’s not a hard rain, but the droplets sting, so Emma runs faster, faster and faster until she’s numb, and the rain is like another skin, a skin of tears, and she slows, crying, glad for the rain, so no one can see she’s crying, not that there’s anyone around, anyone foolish enough to be running in the rain.

She arrives back at the dorm.

Annie is there, waiting.

“Where have you been?”

“Running. I’m soaked. I need a shower.” Emma pulls off her top.

“You are soaked,” Annie says. “You don’t need a shower, you need a towel. Here, let me...”

Annie kneels before Emma and pulls down her bottoms, looking up. “You’re crying,” she says. “What’s the matter?”

“No,” Emma shakes her head. “I wasn’t. Not really.”

“Really you were,” Annie says, still kneeling at Emma’s feet. “Tell me.”

“It’s nothing,” Emma says. “It’s just me. Me and you. I’ll miss you so much. I know you need more than me. A family. A man. Children. I know and I want that for you, I do! But inside I’m so—”

“So wet!” Annie says. She presses her face against Emma’s damp pussy fur. “So wet and so wonderful. You’re everything any girl could want, and I want you now. I’ll want you forever. You know that I will.”

“Truly?” Emma says, looking down.

“Truly,” Annie says, looking up.

And then she pulls Emma down, down on top of her, so Emma is sitting astride Annie’s face, and Annie’s tongue is seated securely in the warm wet slot of Emma’s cunt. And Annie’s tongue dips inside, deep deep inside. A perfect fit. The naughty tongue searches out the tears of Emma’s sex. Turns them into tears of joy. To be savored and swallowed, each and every one.