Free Anything for Money: A Sex-For-Hire College Romance by Lindsey Bedder Page B

elbow. Every now and then, when there was an opening, he reached over and stroked my nipples with his free hand. “Archibald is mauling her.”
    Archibald paused, breathing hard in my face. “Well, I have a time limit. Besides, when am I going to get this kind of tail again? She’s basically a fashion model!”
    Damn right, I agreed. I’m basically that.
    Randy shrugged. “You might get another chance with Rebecca the next time she drinks.”
    “That’s very nice,” I said sarcastically.
    But Archibald wasn’t listening, he was talking. “I mean, for every class assignment, Ripper Jack puts this chick’s pictures in the projector. Splashes them up on the wall, twelve feet high. Everybody just groans. We all want her. Her tight ass, her fuckin’ slammin’ body, her huge tits that point straight out.”
    He paused, and I wasn’t sure if I should respond. He seemed to be talking mostly to himself, as he surged up and down my body.
    “I don’t need a bra,” I told him.
    “You sure don’t. No way in hell should you wear a bra ever.” He glanced over to Randy. “Dude, you don’t understand: this chick is always in class, or waiting for Ripper Jack afterwards, and everybody is always checking her out. She’s always in some tiny flip-up skirt, or a blouse that’s unbuttoned to her stomach, or see-through yoga pants. She has a muscle shirt that barely keeps her tits in. It’s always sliding off her shoulder and or flapping open. One day I passed her in the Student Union, and she was wearing a crocheted top that showed everything!”
    Archibald thrust his crotch against mine. He was up on his arms now, staring down at my wet, open mouth and my tits.
    My panties had long since shifted to the side, leaving me exposed to his bare cock. His dick slid smoothly over my mound, not inside me, but between my lips, and its thick veins thrummed across my clit like an all-knowing tongue.
    *Click* *Click* *Click*
    RJ focused the camera momentarily on my pussy. He saw how Archibald was moving, and how I was moving in response.
    “You can’t fuck her, Archibald,” he said suddenly.
    I was surprised, but didn’t show it. One of RJ’s rules for his projects is that there are no limits. Everything has to feel natural, rising entirely from the moment. I guess that philosophy went out the window with a guy he despised.
    I wondered what that indicated, really. Was RJ sparing me, out of feelings he had? Or was he simply withholding my pussy from this guy because he didn’t like him?
    Archibald cared about the limit less than I did. He nodded briefly and continued his narration. “Then last night, there she is on the sidewalk. Our famous Rebecca. Internet sensation. Daily snapchat queen, guys taking her picture and she doesn’t even notice it.”
    I’d noticed the pictures, alright. I’d gotten so used to seeing cameras and phones out of the corners of my eyes, I almost felt nervous when they weren’t there.
    “There’s our Rebecca, on the sidewalk, making a huge scene outside the bar at 2am. She’s drunk. She’s yelling that she wants to suck someone’s dick. It doesn’t matter whose.”
    I groaned in mortification.
    “‘I’ll suck you off for five dollars,’ she was yelling. ‘You can even make a video!’”
    “Shit, really?” I glanced at RJ to see what he thought. “I said all that?”
    RJ paused just long enough to smile affectionately. “Every word, babe.”
    “Was I joking?” I asked hopefully.
    “No. You were totally serious. You had a crowd watching. It was so hot.”
    No, it was so humiliating. I wanted to cover my face and disappear.
    “Guys, that makes me look so bad!” I groaned. “Everybody’s going to think I’m some kind of slut!”
    “Naw,” Randy said, grinning at me.
    “I’m serious!” I said.
    “Shut up, whore,” Archibald said, but not unkindly. It was nice of him to use that word. “Spread your legs wider.”
    “Sure, okay.” I shifted to give him better access.
    You