I was starting my junior year of college, majoring in business like a jillion other people who had no clue what they wanted to do with their lives. Okay, I knew, but how many people really make a living writing? I didn't want to be a journalist or technical writer, but a creative writer. Not much market for that, unless you're Stephen King or Judith Krantz. Horror isn't my thing, and I have no use for silly romantic novels. What I'd really love to write is adventure novels with bold, brassy women as the heros, but I guess there isn't a market for that.

I completely forgot to introduce myself. I'm Katherine Danbury. Not Kathy, not Katy, but Katherine. It bugs me when people try to shorten my name, my parents always called me Katherine, so Katherine I have always been. Even my big sister never tried to nickname me - and she was the ultimate sorority queen. Which, by the way, is the whole reason that I've been living in the Alpha Beta sorority house since I was accepted during my freshman year. It's one of those things that is supposed to make you feel so magical and such - my grandmother, mother, aunt, and sister had all been Alpha Betas, so I was a legacy candidate. I've never felt like a sorority girl, but it's better than the dorms in a lot of ways, but you do have to put up with a bunch of rituals and formal dinners. No problem, it will probably come in handy when I start interviewing for jobs. Let me tell you, if you can deal with the queen bees here, you can deal with anyone.

I'm really getting off track now, but I guess in a novel this would be considered "background" for the main character. I'm just too impatient to drop in background bit by bit, so I'm sticking it all up front. Anyway, like I started out, my story begins around the beginning of my junior year, with me sitting in the common room, reading an assignment for Personnel Management. A swarm of bees, oops, a group of the girls flounced into the house, paying me no mind as usual. Side note - they usually only paid attention to me when they had to write papers; I'm a whiz at research. So these girls come giggling in, chatting about the boys in the frat house next to us, acting like real bowheads. There's a new girl with them, a petite blonde with the most incredible green eyes, carrying a load of books and a violin case. She glances over my way and I felt my heart stop as she smiled, then winked. She went on up with the rest of the crowd, leaving me to try to remember to pick my jaw off the floor. I stared at the staircase for several minutes before dragging my attention back to the task at hand.

Half an hour later, I gave up all pretense of reading and dragged myself back up to my room. I'd started out with a roommate this year, but she left abruptly after a week, just before classes started. I opened my door to find the goddess lounging on the other bed, looking like she belonged there. "Hello," she said in a husky voice, rising from the bed like Venus, "I'm Michelle Matthews, transfer student. I found out that the sorority had a free bed, so I was able to transfer my membership from my old campus to here."

I dropped my books on my bed and managed the coordination necessary to walk over and take her outstretched hand in greeting. "I'm Katherine Danbury," I managed to say, "business major. What's your major? I'm a junior." I shut up before babbling too much.

"Music education. I'm here because this university has much better music education program. You can call me Mickey, if you'd like. May I call you Kat?"

My brain suddenly pulled up the scrap of song, "Oh Mickey you're so fine, you're so fine you blow my mind." It seemed to fit, but I managed not to say it. Instead, I just mumbled, "Sure, Kat is fine with me." Where was my brain? I'd never been called anything but Katherine, but Mickey just smiled mysteriously at me, causing all circuits to blow. Oh, sure, I'd had crushes on girls before, but I'd managed to forget them all, successfully dating an art student name Boyd for the past year. But here I was, feeling like a total fool, the old feelings rolling through me again. I let go of her hand (it was small, but you could feel the strength in her grip) and asked if she had any more stuff to bring up. "As a matter of fact, I do. Would you like to come with me to my car and help me bring up my luggage?" I just nodded and followed her back down the stairs.

The rest of the semester was pretty uneventful, except that Mickey had an unnerving habit of coming back from the shower and dressing in front of me, making me feel like I needed a shower by the time she finished. Oh, she never flaunted herself or anything like that, but she would sometimes ask me to fasten her necklace for her, putting it on before she picked up her blouse or sweater. I swear that I could feel the heat still rising from her nearly naked back, smell the elusive perfume that she used. It wasn't like she didn't have plenty of boys hanging around, she had already dated three boys in the few months she'd been here. Sometimes, she come back from her dates and sit by me on my bed, telling me where they'd been and what they'd done, sitting close, sometimes patting my leg for emphasis. I didn't get it, and it frustrated me to no end.

I had to leave the room and walk over to Boyd's apartment for a petting session afterwards on more than one occasion. Boyd, bless his heart, knew that I was still pretty religious and never offered to do more than mess around, never trying to get in my pants. He said that he knew it would be wrong for us, but there was no reason why he couldn't let me have some fun, so I'd come over and neck, but never anything else. Sometimes, I'd wind up napping with him afterwards, then sneaking out to go back to my room at the house.

I was supposed to drive home for Thanksgiving, but when I got out of my last class on Wednesday afternoon, I found a blanket of snow covering the campus. I shivered back, trudging through more than a foot of snow, wondering what the roads were like between here and home, usually a five hour drive. Just as I entered my room, the phone was ringing - it was Dad, asking if there was anyone I could stay with since the snow was even worse at home. "Well," I said as I dropped my backpack and sat on the bed, "there's usually a few girls here who can't make it home, so the house mother does a meal. I suppose I could stay here, the snow's pretty thick here." I paused to look out the window; it was coming down harder now. "I think the snow's getting worse."

"Then just stay there, your sister and her family just arrived and said it took them two hours go make it here." Sister and crew lived near our folks, usually a 45 minute drive. "I'll tell your Mom that you're being smart and staying there. We'll miss you, Katherine."

"I'll miss y'all too. Hugs all around."

"Sure. Bye now."

I took off my coat and hung it on my desk chair to dry out. Mickey had probably already left since her last class had been this morning, which was a disappointment and a relief. I sat down and took off my shoes and socks, thinking that at least I'd have nearly free run of the washer and dryer this weekend. There were only a few girls planning to stay over, mostly girls with local boyfriends. I needed to tell Mrs. Abbott, our house mother, that I'd be here. With that in mind, I pulled on my sheepskin slippers and went downstairs to her office.

As I went down the hallway, I heard the familiar husky voice of the goddess saying, "I hope this won't put you out too much, Mrs. Abbot, but I missed my plane and barely found a taxi to bring me back here. I've already called my parents and let them know I won't make it home."

"That's fine, dear, I have enough for an army! I'm sure that a few other girls will be stranded by the weather. Dinner will be soup and sandwiches tonight, nothing too heavy."

"Thanks, see you later." I saw her emerge from the house mother's office, face lighting up at the sight of me. Mickey stuck her head back in, announcing, "I just saw Katherine." She pulled back, asking me if I were staying. I nodded yes. "She's staying as well. We'll be back in time for dinner." She came to me, tucking a hand companionably in my elbow, asking, "When was the last time you were in a snowball fight, Kat?"

I just shrugged my shoulders, tongue-tied as usual, feeling her cold fingers lightly gripping my arm. I led her up the stairs to our room, confused thoughts tumbling through my head. A snowball fight with the goddess? Ohmygod, I've died and gone to heaven. I should be doing laundry. I should take advantage and finish that paper for materials management. I should just bundle up and go play with Mickey. My brain may have been a mess, but my body went on autopilot, pulling out my thermals and wool socks to go under my jeans and sweatshirt, and my waterproof hiking boots to go on my feet. I only heard half of what Mickey was saying as she pulled out similar clothes and started changing. I concentrated on changing my own clothes (I usually managed to time dressing for when she was not in the room, I'd always been shy.) Minutes later, we were pulling on gloves and hats and racing down the stairs and out the door with Mrs. Abbott calling, "Have fun, girls!"

We raced to campus, to the open lawn behind the library. Mickey caught me off guard with a well-thrown snowball, but I was able to quickly retaliate with one of my own. I was able to calm down and just enjoy the biting cold of the snow and the fun of tossing snowballs, making a snow family, and making snow angels on the ground. Time took that peculiar elastic quality that appears when you're having a terrific time. I'm usually very time oriented, scheduling myself down nearly to the minute, but I lost all sense of time as we played in the snow. We chased each other through campus, winding up near the stadium on the soccer fields.

"I've got you!" Mickey cried as she launched herself at me, bowling me over. This was quite a feat, considering that I had two inches and at least twenty pounds on her, but she was very strong. Caught completely by surprise, I just laid back as she sat on my stomach, laughing in victory. "I give up, I surrender to your superior position," I said, my voice rougher than normal. Mickey leaned down, pinning my arms, lowering herself until we were nearly touching. My head started swirling again and I felt myself blushing, my entire body suddenly heating up so much that I swore the snow should have melted. Her green eyes bored into mine, her lips parted just enough to show her dazzling white teeth. Here was an unforeseen chance, our lips so close, my blood pounding so loudly in my ears, all I had to do was move my head up an inch and I could touch those lips with my own.

"Hey girls, that looks like fun!" The moment dissipated like so much snow on a hot griddle as Cindy, one of our more air-headed sisters, flopped down beside us. "Y'all making snow angels?"

Something flashed across Mickey's face before she put on her sorority mask and stood up, offering me a hand to help me up. "We were, but we're about done. So, are you staying for the entire weekend?"

"No, Claude is picking me up in the morning. We'll go to his parents' house for the weekend, they only live an hour from here. He grew up in snowy climates, so it won't bother him to drive." While Cindy disclosed her plans, I took Mickey's hand and let her pull me up. I brushed the snow off as best I could, feeling cold, blue, and incredibly frustrated. We trudged through the snow back to the house, Cindy babbling excitedly while Mickey and I made the proper replies, but otherwise being silent.

We avoided each other the rest of the evening. I gathered up dirty clothes and hid in the basement, indulging myself with a new science fiction book. I don't know where Mickey went, but she was still gone when I took my clean clothes back to our room late that night. I was hurting inside, very confused that we nearly kissed and angry that we didn't kiss. The self-loathing came back full force as I put away my clothes, wondering what kind of monster I was, why I was so entranced by this young woman. Why the hell did she flirt with me so, if she wasn't going to follow through? Yes, flirt, I finally put a name to the behavior, the dressing in front of me, touching my arm or leg while talking, the playing in the snow, the intense gaze when we talked in our room. She would sometimes ask for a neck massage after a long rehearsal or a performance and I would oblige, then feel so awkward as she moaned with pleasure as I kneaded her tight muscles. Such mixed signals, especially when she had met Boyd and knew we were dating.

Mickey must have come in after I went to sleep. We didn't speak in the morning, and she took her clothes with her to the showers, coming back fully dressed. I escaped to the bathroom to take my shower, letting the hot water sluice over me longer than usual. I finally finished my shower and got dressed, wandering down to the kitchen to help Mrs. Abbott with the Thanksgiving meal. I didn't see Mickey, but I didn't look for her either. Mrs. Abbott tossed a couple of concerned looks my way, but didn't ask why I was so quiet and so helpful today. I just did my best kitchen duties - dishes and cutting up fruits and vegetables.

"Girls, time to eat," Mrs. Abbott finally announced around three that afternoon. This was apparently a tradition in the house, if you stayed, then you slept in late and had the one gigantic meal mid-afternoon, then snacked later that night while watching TV or playing games. It was also tradition to dress up some, usually nice slacks or skirts and sweaters. I dashed upstairs to change from sweats to brown corduroy slacks and a gold velour sweater with a light blue button-down shirt underneath. I found my penny loafers and shoved my feet in them and dashed back down the stairs, nearly literally running into Michelle. "Sorry," I mumbled as I slid past her, wondering if she was going up to change or to avoid me.

It was to change. She came back in a deep green two piece wool skirt and sweater set, with a strand of freshwater pearls glistening around her neck, beautifully set off by the dark background of her sweater. I had to look down at my plate quickly so I wouldn't stare at her. To add to my discomfort, the only empty seat was beside me, which my angel took without fuss. Mrs. Abbott asked us to bow our heads for the prayer, holding out her hands. Mrs. Abbot's hand was warm and soft, Michelle's hand was cold and firm. To my great surprise, my goddess gave my hand a brief squeeze when Mrs. Abbott concluded the prayer, holding it a few seconds longer than strictly necessary.

The meal was delicious and I found myself entering the flow of the conversation without my usual hesitation. We chatted about classes, boyfriends, families, favorite movie and music stars, and our plans for the rest of the weekend. Most were planning to visit local friends or catch up on homework. Michelle volunteered that she was starting rehearsals for a Christmas pageant at a local church, a chance to put another performance on her resume. I said that I was just planning to do homework, maybe go shopping if the roads cleared. After all, Boyd was out of town, so no dates. Mrs. Abbott announced plans to hook up the new VCR she had just bought, triggering cheers from the rest of us. She had rented some movies for the weekend, so we could feel free to watch them at any time.

After we cleaned up, those who did not have dates changed into sweats or pajamas and gathered in the den around the television. I helped Mrs. Abbott hook up the VCR and chose the first movie, "Raiders of the Lost Ark." Mrs. Abbott let us bring in blankets, popcorn, and spiked hot cider and eggnog as we all settled back to watch Harrison Ford chasing around the world, fighting Nazis and looking for the elusive Ark of the Covenant. I settled down on one of the couches, pulling the blanket up to my chin as the opening sequence started, cheering as Indiana Jones managed to outwit all sorts of traps to get the treasure.

Michelle came in as the opening credits started, pushing her way through to dive under the blanket with me. Okay, with us, it was a sofa bed and we'd pulled out the bed and four of us were now stretched out, cheering our handsome hero on. I was at one end, but Michelle squeezed between me and Sandra, carefully balancing her eggnog as she wiggled under the blanket.

I rarely drank any alcohol, but tonight I was buzzing most pleasantly from the cider, relaxing enough to not care when Michelle managed to snuggled against me, taking my free hand under the cover and just holding it. It felt good to hold hands in the dark, knowing that no one could see or care. Indiana saved the day and someone got up and changed movies. I'm not even sure what they put in as I couldn't follow the plot due to my potted state and the warm body pressed next to mine. At some point during the second movie, nature forced me to get up. I laid my cup down on the end table with exaggerated care, then turned to the task of extricating myself from blankets. I found that my legs kept splaying out, impeding my progress toward the stairs. Someone asked if I needed help and I just nodded, causing a wave of dizziness to sweep over me.

"I'll take care of her, don't stop the movie on my account," I heard Michelle saying. I blinked stupidly as she came to me, firmly placing her hands on my waist to steady me and to help me climb the stairs. Somehow, we managed to get me to the bathroom without incident. I felt better after peeing, but I was still pretty disoriented. "Michelle, I'm sorry about this," I started to say, but she merely smiled and put a finger on my lips. I hushed as she put an arm around my waist, propelling me to our room. I heard her go back to the stairs and tell them that she was putting me to bed, not to worry about me. I had managed to crawl to our room by this time, trying to figure out how to pull off my sweatshirt and pants.

"Michelle, help," I finally said. She shut and locked our door, then came over, asking quietly, "What's with this ‘Michelle' business? Here, let me get that." I let her pull my clothes off, shivering as the cool air hit my overheated skin. She dropped my clothes in my hamper, then rummaged through my dresser to find me a t-shirt to sleep in. "After yesterday, I didn't think you like me," I blurted out, "so I didn't think that I deserved to call you Mickey."

She sat down on my bed, holding my t-shirt in her hands, an unreadable expression in her lovely green eyes. "Dear sweet Kat, you may always call me Mickey," she said quietly, forgetting that I was still mostly naked. Naked? I started shivering again, partly from the cold and partly from the awareness that she was looking at my naked chest. "You really don't drink often, do you?"

"Nope," I said, my voice sounding strangely strangled. I tried clearing it, then elaborated, "I don't like losing control."

"Oh." Silence dropped over us as I laid there, wondering if I should try to get my t-shirt from her, to cover my nakedness and vulnerability. "You feeling okay? Any sickness?"

"No," I whispered, "just shaky and cold."

"We can fix that," she said, finally handing me the t-shirt. As I managed to get the t-shirt on, she unzipped her robe, revealing only her t-shirt and panties. Mickey seemed to hesitate for a few hours, or a few seconds, then said, "Move over, I'll warm you up." I slid over, slipping under the covers as Mickey slid in beside me, opening her arms. Taking my courage firmly in grip, I allowed her to gather me to her, shivering at the contact. "Still cold?" she whispered, warm breath caressing the side of my face. I nodded, although I was really warm.

She pulled me to her more firmly, slowly stoking my arms to warm me up. I tried to just lay back and enjoy the feeling of her body next to mine, to ignore the leg draped so elegantly over mine, to ignore the sudden moisture that appeared in my underwear. Oh, God, she'll probably run screaming in a few seconds, I thought, shivering harder, alcohol haze vanishing as I realized that I was very aroused by the nearness of her body to mine.

"What is it?" she whispered, lips millimeters from mine. The temptation was just too much. Heart hammering double-time, I leaned over just enough to barely touch my lips to hers, prepared to pull back and apologize, blaming it on the spiked drinks.

"Oh," she said against my lips, "curious?"

"Yes," I whispered, breathing raggedly with pent up desire, yet waiting for the signal to continue. I could feel her breath on me, feel my skin crying with the need to be next to hers. Yet, I waited, terrified that I'd crossed the wrong line, that she would run screaming from the room, denouncing me as a lesbian. Instead, after what seemed like an eternity, she bridged the gap, pulling me close as her lips sought mine.

I thought I'd experienced kissing before, but this was nothing like kissing Boyd, or any other man I'd dated. It was as if my skin was supersensitized, like the merest brush went straight to my groin. She kissed me softly, then more aggressively. I allowed my lips to part, to admit her questing tongue, feeling sensations that I'd only dreamed of before. She pulled back, leaving me feeling bereft, but it was only to pull off her shirt and panties. I quickly followed suit, stretching against her full length, feeling intoxicated with the delicious skin on skin contact, burning and shivering all at the same time, trembling with fear and desire. Casting aside my usual timidity, I took the lead, kissing her until we were both panting from lack of oxygen.

I rolled over, allowing cool air to circulate between our bellies for a few seconds before she rolled on top of me, slowly slipping a leg between mine. I could feel the heat and dampness of her on me, sending my mind into overdrive. I forced myself to be gentle about stroking her back as she just laid on me, not moving. Eventually, she raised up, giving me access to her lovely breasts, which I first just held cupped in my hands, then scooted down to make contact with my mouth. It never imagined it could feel so good, so natural. A moan escaped from her lips, encouraging me to drag my tongue across her hardened nipple as she unconsciously started grinding her mound against my leg.

I paid attention to both breasts as equally as possible, then suddenly flipped her over, reversing our positions. I could feel sweat slipping down our bellies, moisture gathering in our hidden spots. I had no idea what I was doing, I was just following erotic instinct, lavishing oral attention on her body, slipping my hand between her legs without even thinking about it. I knew how good it felt when I slowly dragged my fingers around my little button, so I tried the same thing with her, and was rewarded by a guttural calling of my name. By now, I could feel her starting to tighten like a string on her violin, so I started rubbing faster, enjoying the hot slickness of her folds under my fingers. I could feel the same tightness drawing in my belly, then felt fingers slip in my folds too.

I didn't expect her to orgasm so hard. She grabbed my hand, forcing my fingers in her, shaking and holding on to me like she was going to crack me wide open. I pulled my hand away, afraid that I would hurt her. She kept bucking, now humping my leg hard, shoving her leg between my legs, forcing me to hump it as well. I could feel myself tightening up, knowing I was about to orgasm, suddenly not caring about what she thought as I started humping her leg harder, forcing as much contact as possible. I felt myself building up to the brink and tore away enough to force her hand on me. Fingers slid in, alternating between rubbing my clit and slipping into my well, bringing me closer, then sliding away, then bringing me closer to orgasm.

The world exploded without warning, leaving me worn out and barely able to hold her. It was much more powerful than any orgasm I'd wrung out with my furtive playing. She slowly withdrew her hand, but replaced with a leg, rubbing tender flesh until I came again, this time with a more diffused orgasm. I was completely exhausted, drenched in sweat and sexual juices, slipping gratefully into a deep sleep as I snuggled in her arms.

When I woke up the next morning, I was horrified at what I'd done, forgetting momentarily that she had fully participated. I threw on my robe, rushing to the shower to wash away the evidence, not even noticing whether or not she was in the room when I left. I finally dried off, dressed, brushed my teeth, and slowly slunk back to our room, afraid of what she would think of me.

"Kat, good morning," she said softly as I silently entered the room. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes," I admitted, still not looking at her.

Mickey came over, sitting on my bed beside me, taking me in her arms. I don't know why I chose that moment to burst into tears, but I did. I never cried, but at that moment, I couldn't recall the hard sobs that wracked my body, holding onto her like a life raft. She slowly stroked my back, dropping comforting kisses on my head until I could sit up, blindly groping for tissues. She handed me the box without comment, waiting for me to compose myself. "Kat, dear love, last night was absolutely incredible."

I looked up, expecting harsh words, but instead, getting warmth. "It was," I said, hoarse from sobbing. I pulled back, sitting upright. "But we can't do it again, is that what you're about to say?"

"Well, I must confess that I've never been with a woman sexually before, so I'm not sure what to say here. Looking back, I sure led you on all semester." My heart started sinking again, waiting for the worst. "I'm not even sure if I'm gay, or if you're gay, but let's just take it easy. Obviously, we can't let anyone know or we'd be kicked out of the sorority, possibly the university."Shit, I hadn't thought of that last night! "But," she continued as she took my hands in hers, "I'm not going to be a hypocrite and say that I didn't enjoy it. I don't know if we'll do it again, or if we should even consider it, but I'll always look back on last night as the night I lost my virginity, to one of the nicest and most caring lovers possible."

I started trembling again, afraid that I'd burst into tears again. I quickly stood up and went to the window to give myself time to compose my features. "Thank you," I finally said, having calmed down somewhat. I turned back to her, smiling. "I just took a chance."

She joined me at the window, kissing me lightly before growling, "Now I'm starved, let's get some breakfast." I agreed, following her downstairs.

A few years after graduation, we lost track of each other. I knew that Mickey had married within the year, taking a position teaching junior high orchestra. I worked for a while, then went to graduate school, majoring in business systems and getting a job designing accounting software. I never married, but had a series of affairs with women, usually not lasting more than six months to a year. No woman ever compared to Mickey.

The years slipped by more rapidly than I could imagine. One day, I came home, fed the cat, and went to the mailbox to retrieve my usual pile of magazines, catalogs, bills, and assorted junk mail. The first letter I came to had my university logo on it. Curious, I opened it, finding an invitation to a 20th year class reunion, to be held in conjunction with the homecoming game.

The day of the game dawned bright and cool, perfect fall weather. I went to the game, the barbeque, then finally to the dance for my class. I was starting to feel disappointed, not finding Mickey there, but I did catch up with quite a few classmates, seeing pictures of children and even a few grandchildren. I was about to make a quiet exit when I felt a hand on my shoulder and heard a husky voice inquire, "Looking for me, Kat?" I turned around; it was Mickey. She smiled seductively, eyes dancing with mischief. I threw caution to the winds, leaning in for a brief kiss.

"So," I asked nonchalantly as I tucked her hand in my arm, "what have you been up to, Mickey?"

"I'm teaching on the college level now," she answered as we started walking toward the balcony. We exited the building, cool air swirling around us, taking away the years. "And I'm divorced, no children."

"Now that's interesting news," I answered seductively. She smiled at me, I smiled back. We kept walking as I told her, "My hotel isn't very far." Mickey just smiled, leaning against me slightly as we walked back to my hotel. "I could tell you all about programming, but I'd probably bore you," I said as we entered my room." Mickey didn't say a word, just placed a hand on either cheek and pulled me down for a long kiss. I finally broke off for a breath, whispering, "Oh, Mickey, you're so fine, you're so fine you blow my mind."

She just rolled her eyes, then rolled me onto the bed. I'll let you imagine the rest.