I’d seen him buy soft drinks but found out too late that they were just for mixers.“Don’t be a baby,” he teased. “This is college life. Drin... up and have some fun. Let’s dance.”I certainly didn’t want to be a baby. I drank the concoction and took his hand as he dragged me to the dancefloor.It’s funny the details I remember and the things I blocked out. They played a lot of Motown and Southern Rock and I soon figured out why everyone was dressed so skimpy in the middle of December. We were. I wasn’t even close to orgasm, but then I had to help Michael along probably twice more before he had given me everything.I decided to focus on Emma for a bit. The feel of her tongue and lips as she used them on me. The way she used her hand to stroke what she couldn’t fit into her mouth. The slickness. The eroticism of the act. I could tell that I was building up to my own orgasm. My first one would occur not long after Michael gave me all of his power. How quickly could I return it all? How. More

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