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Sometimes one's own playful exploration can be exciting.

Dawn (Or Danielle) gasped in shock as Cassie walked in, she grabbed the duvet and covered her chest with it. Cassie cast her gaze down to try and avoid more embarrassment and there, in front of her was Dawn's blouse. Cassie picked it up, handed it to her and turned around while Dawn put it on. Dawn (it might actually have been Deanna) was a seriously attractive woman, Cassie wondered briefly how she'd managed to pull such a stunner. She was tall, blonde and leggy with lovely breasts, a C cup Cassie guessed. When Dawn was dressed she slipped out without saying anything to Cassie, embarrassment painted on her face.

"Smooth," Cassie heard a mocking voice say from the living room. Cassie walked through the living room to the kitchen and put the kettle on, trying her best to ignore Karl's snickering. She got a mug from her cupboard and swore when she remembered that she ran out of coffee.

"It's alright, use mine," Karl said. He got up and wrote 'coffee' on the shopping list Cassie kept stuck to her cupboard door.

"I don't even know her name, how bad is that?" Cassie said.

"Cass, take pride in the fact that she sure as hell knows yours." Karl said with a smirk.

"What?"

"She was shouting it plenty loud enough last night." Karl said then broke into hysterics. "It was something along the lines of 'Cassie Cassie, don't stop, God don't stop.'" Karl stammered out around paroxysms of laughter.

"Where's the girl you came home with?" Cassie asked, desperately needing to change the subject before she died from embarrassment.

"Fucked if I know, I just woke up and there she wasn't."

"We should be relationship counsellors." Cassie said as she made her coffee.

"Cassie Maywether and Karl Hardy, relationship counsellors. It's got a nice ring to it." Karl said.

She walked through to her room, mug in hand. Cassie's room may have been the biggest in the house, but it was far from spacious. The room was small and very nearly square, the walls were a dirty white colour and almost entirely covered in posters of various bands. She wanted to pull up the ratty brown carpet to expose the floor boards but she figured her landlord would be none too pleased. The room was dominated by the double bed against the back wall, opposite was a very full book case in front of which stood two waist high piles of books. To the left of the bed sat two acoustic guitars, next to them was an electric guitar and an amp. The electric guitar was a white Fender Jaguar, she'd saved up all summer at her crappy job to get it. Cassie set her coffee down on the desk next to her lecture notes and flopped down on her bed wondering why she felt so sexually frustrated. She closed her eyes and thought back to the previous night. She strained to remember what transpired, the images came to her slowly and fuzzily through the filter of a week's worth of alcohol consumption in one night. She remembered Dawn and her kissing, their tongues and bodies moving in sync, she remembered pushing Dawn down onto the bed, she remembered undressing her slowly. She remembered her beautiful, damp pussy and its sweet juice. She remembered making Dawn cum, then... Oh yeah! She actually passed out, probably from a combination of the orgasm and copious amounts of alcohol.

"God, Dawn" Cassie said, "passing out after getting off is such a guy thing to do."

She was about to pick up one of her acoustic guitars when her BlackBerry started chirping at her. She picked it up and opened the text. It read:

Sorry I bugged out this morning. I was more than a little embarrassed! It was the drink, I'm not normally like that.

I'd really like it not to be a one time thing, so do you want to go get lunch tomorrow between lectures?

Darcy. X

Darcy! So that was her name.

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