Chapter 1

I was not much of a nightclub goer, but I found myself in the clubbing district of my city anyway. The seizure-inducing strobe lights, the earth-quaking thumping of the bass. The noxious smell of liquor, perfume, and cologne in the air.

I sat by myself at a high-top table with a soda waiting for my friends to go back to campus. It was almost 11 p.m., and I knew that they weren’t going to be done soon. In fact, they might request a ride to a different club.

My friends - or rather my neighbors from the dorms - really wanted to go out clubbing. Many of them were freshmen without a car. Since I was a sophomore and was allowed to have a car on campus, I quickly became popular with my neighbors. Well, I wouldn’t say popular, but I was always asked for favors. 

Since we were minors and couldn’t buy drinks at the club, they had begun tonight’s festivities by pregaming for the past two hours. Thus they needed a ride to the clubs as well as someone to keep them out of trouble.

I, on the other hand, was spending my Saturday with a good book until I got a knock on my door asking me to be their designated driver.

In fairness, my door was open and I am friendly with my neighbors, and I want to feel like part of the community. I could’ve moved to an off-campus apartment, but I wanted to be social. I wanted a front-row seat for the action. Tonight, however, I didn't want to binge drink. In fact, I was getting to a good part in the action-fantasy-mystery I was reading.

But back to the present. I was sitting alone at my table, playing with the straw in my mostly ice-filled soda cup.

“Daniel!” Mike, one of my friends shouted, drunkenly wrapping his arm around my shoulders. He moved closer to my ear to talk above the music. His breath smelled like alcohol. “Why are you just sitting here alone?”

I turned to his ear and replied, “I’m the designated driver, remember?” 

“Just ‘cause you’re DD doesn’t mean you can’t have fun.” He let go of me and started dancing around the table holding his drink in his hand. His drunken dance moves brought him right back to me. “Why don’t you go find a chick to talk to?”

I sighed. “Girls don’t want to be hit on in nightclubs.”

“Who says? There’s a group right there,” he said, pointing to a table with three girls. 

Even in the strobing lights I recognized one of them. She was in my literature class. I didn’t know her name, but she sat next to me and borrowed a pen once. I examined her. She had pale skin and raven black hair. Her dress was mint green and form fitting, accentuating her already-perfect figure. It was a far cry from what she normally wore to class. Occasionally during class I look at her out of my periphery, wanting to find some reason to say hi to her.

All three were definitely set for a night on the town. They were so far out of my league, each dressed to the nines in very sexy dresses and all the glittery trimmings. I felt like a bum in my jeans and button-down shirt.

“Go over and talk to one of them,” Mike insisted.

“Nah, I’m good,” I replied in a lower voice that may have been drowned out by the music.

“Suit yourself,” he said, leaving me to fight the crowd to rejoin our other friends.

Mike’s right. Being the designated driver doesn’t mean I can’t have fun at the club. The problem was, I’m not a clubber. I don’t like dancing. I’m timid around girls. This isn’t even the type of music I like. I’d much rather get back home to my book where the protagonist does know how to have fun, and is about to get the girl. Or actually, the guy, since this particular book has a female protagonist. It doesn’t matter, I can live vicariously through any protagonist.

Just not myself. Who wants to be Daniel? Not me. I should change that eventually. Hopefully before college ends.

It’s ironic that I was thinking about that. Because I glanced back over to the table of girls, and the girl from my class was now at the table alone. “Could that moment be now?” I whispered to myself. 

I don’t know what came over me, and why I chose that moment to come out of my shell, but that split second changed my life forever. I got up from my stool and tried casually walking over to her.

She was sitting on her own barstool, long legs crossed, appearing to wait for her friends to return. She was even prettier the closer I got.

“Hi,” I nervously said over the loud music. “We’re in the same literature class together.”

She looked up at me, confused that a stranger was talking to her, and then in a moment of recognition smiled. “Yeah, we are.” 

“Hi, I’m Daniel," I said, extending my hand.

“Hello, I’m Jasmine,” she weakly shook my hand.

I retracted my hand quickly, hoping she didn’t notice my sweaty palms. “What brings you out?” 

“It’s Saturday night,” she cooly replied.

I shook my head in embarrassment. “Of course. I thought maybe you were celebrating something.” Good recovery.

She chuckled. “Nope. Just a girls’ night out.”

Her emphasis on the word ‘girls’ confirmed my earlier suspicions. Girls don’t want to be hit on at nightclubs. “Well, then I’m sorry I bothered you.” I was about to turn around when I was flanked by Jasmine's two friends.

“Who do we have here?” one girl inquired.

“Are you hitting on my girlfriend?” another asked with a mischievous smile.

I was filled with embarrassment as I realized how this situation looked. “I’m Daniel,” I timidly replied. “I was just about to go.”

“Why so fast?” The one claiming to be Jasmine’s girlfriend asked, blocking my retreat.

I didn’t know what to say. The two girls had a certain hunger in their eyes. Like predators stalking their prey. Or maybe defending their territory. They were likely upset that a guy interrupted their girls' night out. Abort, abort. This is why I don’t take risks.

“Daniel is in one of my classes,” Jasmine chimed in. That seemed to tame her friends.

The other girl pouted as if her meal was just taken away. 

I was just as relieved as I was surprised that Jasmine would vouch for me.

“Daniel,” Jasmine said closer to my ear, “these are my friends Morgan and Sydney.”

“Nice to meet you both,” I said with a smile. 

I was ready to head back to my table with my tail between my legs, but Morgan, the one claiming to be Jasmine’s girlfriend, was still in my way. Morgan was a red-head, about my height. Her freckles stood out as dark spots in the blacklights. She was wearing a strapless teal dress that begged for my eyes to look down at her cleavage - which I didn’t do. She also wore a very mischievous grin, which made me wonder why she wasn’t stepping aside to let me go. 

Morgan’s eyes were shifting back and forth between Jasmine and Sydney as if they were communicating non-verbally. Then she nodded. 

I should leave. When I was about to attempt to push by, Jasmine tugged my arm, stopping me from retreating.

“So, what brings you out tonight, Daniel?” Jasmine asked me.

While I was getting antsy to leave these girls alone, I supposed it was only fair to answer the same question I asked her. “I'm the designated driver. For my dorm friends.” I pointed at the crowd of people on the dance floor. “They’re somewhere in there.”

“That’s very responsible of you,” Morgan said.

“Well, I suppose someone has to drive their drunk asses around,” I chuckled. 

“They could’ve just called Safe Ride, or paid for an Uber,” Sydney pointed out. Sydney stood on the other side of Jasmine and it wasn’t until now that I really got a good look at her. She was a blonde bombshell with golden locks cascading down her shoulders. Through the strobe lights, I could tell she was well tanned. She was wearing a very skimpy black dress that bared her shoulders and her waist.

“True,” I said, leaning towards Sydney to make sure she heard me. While Safe Ride was free, you still had to call to reserve a ride and then wait for them. “It was more convenient this way.”

“What would you be doing if you weren’t here tonight?” Jasmine asked.

“Well, I was reading a book. In my dorm.”

“What about?” she asked, leaning towards me and flashing a very cute and innocent smile that I knew I wouldn’t be able to say ‘no’ to.

I gritted my teeth. They didn’t want to hear about my book, did they? At a nightclub? Over this insanely loud music?

“It’s nothing. It’s boring,” I said over the music.

“Well, it can’t be too boring,” Sydney replied. “Or else you wouldn’t be reading it.”

She had a point. I was just skeptical they would be interested in my fantasy book. “Well… a beautiful heroine,” I said loud enough so the girls could hear me. “Set in a fantasy world - she has to unite the warring factions, take down the fascist emperor, and bring balance to the realm. She falls in love with the opposing prince.”

Morgan giggled.

My cheeks were burning. I was right. They didn’t really want to know. “I should go,” I said, trying to slink away.

“Wait, Daniel,” Jasmine implored with a sly smile.

I stood there looking at her, waiting for what she was going to say.

“You’re an enigma,” she stated.

“A what?” I replied, confused. “How so?”

“You want to be in two places at once. You want to both be here and you also want to be somewhere else.”

I thought that was a weird thing for her to say. Sure, Jasmine often had insightful thoughts about our assignments in lit class, but why is she analyzing me?

“If you don’t want to be here, then why did you let your friends drag you here?” Sydney asked.

“Who- who says I don’t want to be here?”

“Your body language,” she replied with a giggle.

“You said you’d rather be reading at home, reading your book,” Morgan added.

“You’re alone, yet you keep trying to run away from us,” Jasmine pointed out.

Well, they got me there. “Well, I was embarrassed and you told me I was intruding on your girls’ night out.”

“Fair enough,” Jasmine nodded.

“Daniel, answer one question and we’ll let you go,” Morgan offered.

“What is it?” I asked. I was frustrated by this interaction, but still curious.

“Why did you really come out tonight? Don’t tell me chauffeuring around a bunch of drunks is what you really wanted to be doing.”

I looked at the three girls. They were eagerly awaiting my answer. It was weird that they were dwelling on this. I have to admit this had to have been one of the strangest interactions I have ever had. But they had a point. Why was I here? Obviously, I was here to be the designated driver for my friends, but of course they didn’t want that answer. And they were right, I could’ve stayed home. But, I wanted to be here. I wanted to be around for their drama, not just hearing about it the next day. “I-I want to live vicariously through my friends.”

“And the heroine in your book,” Jasmine said, making the connection. 

At that moment, Morgan moved aside, granting me a path back to my table.

A feeling of relief washed over me as I was finally able to extract myself from this weird interrogation. “It was nice meeting you,” I said, as I retreated back to my table and climbed onto the bar stool. Despite the relief, the small part of me that was soaking up the attention was disappointed.

I picked up my soda cup, which was mostly watered down now.

As I sat there, I glanced back at the three girls. They too were sneaking glances over at me. They would talk into each other's ears. I couldn’t hear anything they were saying due to the loud music, but I had the uncomfortable feeling they were talking about me.

“Way to go, Daniel,” I said to myself. “Now they think you’re a freak and a loser.”

I shifted in my chair and looked into the crowd for my friends. Maybe I should encourage them to move on to the next club. I scanned around and was startled when I realized Morgan was standing beside me at my table. 

“Do you read a lot?” Morgan asked, leaning up against my table. She placed her clutch on the table next to my cup of watered-down soda.

I suppose the inquisition continues. I don’t understand what they’re getting out of toying with me. “Yeah, I do.”

“Are you a writer too? You're in Jasmine’s lit class.”

“I dabble. Nothing major though. I’m not great with words.”

“But you have a vivid imagination?”

I shrugged. “I guess.”

“Do you think Jasmine is attractive?”

I looked at Morgan, then looked over at Jasmine back at her table, who smiled and waved. I didn’t want to admit it in front of her girlfriend. “But, she’s your girlfriend.”

“Does that make her less attractive?”

“Umm. No.”

“Then answer the question.”

That put me in the awkward position of telling a girl that I find her girlfriend attractive. Typically you don’t tell people who are coupled up that. “Of course, she’s gorgeous. You’re um… a lucky girl to have her.”

Morgan smiled. “Now you want to live vicariously through me, too.”

I huffed in frustration. “I just mean-”

“Do you want to?” she asked, inching closer to me.

“Want to what?” I wasn't quite sure what she was asking me.

She was now close to my ear. “Live through me?” she whispered seductively, her hot breath blowing across my ear.

“I uh... I don't know what you mean.”

“Can you imagine what it would feel like to be me? Later tonight, with my girlfriend?”

Now she’s bragging? She could’ve just left me alone. But the way she asked - I couldn’t not imagine the situation. I don’t know Jasmine or Morgan, but images of the two of them flashed through my mind. Maybe cuddling, maybe kissing… maybe more.

She smiled. “You’re thinking about it.”

I shifted uncomfortably on my stool. “Well, you made me think about it.”

“Answer me one question, ‘Daniel who wishes he was home reading his book, but is also living vicariously through his friends - and me’. Would you like to be me for the night?”

What a bizarre question. “Be you?” I looked at her with my brows furrowed and head cocked in confusion.

“Hypothetically speaking, of course,” she added with a smirk.

God, she’s so cocky. She’s bragging about being her. About having a hot lesbian girlfriend. I couldn’t help but admire her sheer confidence. Of course I’d love to be her. “I dunno…” 

“Close your eyes. Pretend we’re characters in your book.”

I reluctantly closed my eyes. I don’t know why she wants me to daydream about her and Jasmine. But I did what she asked and considered them as characters in a story I was writing. Granted I didn’t know any of their backgrounds, but judging by tonight’s interaction, they weren’t like any other girl - or any other person - at this university, for that matter. They were certainly having fun toying with me. Obviously, at some point they’ll leave me alone and continue their girls’ night out. If I was writing a story, where would their night take them? It’s only 11 p.m. The night is young. When I’m long gone and back at my dorm in bed, they will continue having fun. They’ll likely dance some more. There the night will end and maybe Morgan and Jasmine will be intimate. I’ve watched some lesbian porn, and flashes of those scenes went through my head. Then I replaced Morgan’s character with my own and replayed the same scenes. I shifted uncomfortably again as I could feel a hard-on beginning. “I guess. I mean, yes. Sure.”

“Good,” she said. “Do you want to join an exclusive club?”

I opened my eyes. “What kind?”

“I can explain it, but you won’t believe me. The best way is to show you.”

Oh, my God, I just figured it out. The way they sized me up as prey. The way they were toying with me like I was food. The sudden interest in me joining them. They were Vampires.

Or maybe they weren’t. But my imagination was certainly running wild at the moment. Maybe it was best to see what she was offering. Maybe it was a literature club. “OK,” I reluctantly said.

That’s when Morgan leaned in… oh, my God, she’s going to bite me… and kissed me. I was taken by surprise, but I was able to push away from her. I was confused at what was going on here. “What about Jasmine?”

“We have an open relationship,” she casually said, as if it was no big deal, then leaned back in to kiss me. This time I didn’t resist. She gave me permission, right? Maybe this was a kissing club? Those things exist, right?

I wasn’t used to kissing a girl. It’s been a while at least. I had a girlfriend senior year of high school, and we kissed after prom and broke up shortly after graduation. But that was it. I was out of practice.

I was surprised when Morgan started asking me questions mid-kiss. “Who did you come with?” she asked through our locked lips. “Their names?”

Talking about my friends wasn’t really sexy. I ignored her.

“Their names,” she repeated, a little more sternly.

This must be some bizarre kind of foreplay. I guess all that matters is she’s getting off on it. “Umm,” I replied through our pressed lips. “Mike. Denis. Sal.”

“What kind of car did you come in?”

That was a weird question. Is she one of those girls who cares about the car a guy drives? “Hmm, a Camry.”

“What color?”

“Red.”

“What dorm do you live in?”

“Delta Hall.”

“Meet me tomorrow at the library. 2 p.m. Sixth floor.” She didn’t stop making out with me.

Wait, what? That surprised me. What about tonight? I didn’t actually ask that. I didn’t acknowledge it either, since we were still playing tonsil hockey. 

While I was busy worrying about my technique, Morgan held my hand. But she had something else in her hand that was now wedged between us. It was cold and smooth. Not smooth like glass. Smooth like a stone. It wasn’t perfectly round, it had slight imperfections. Maybe carved engravings? But it started to get warmer. I was going to pull away from the makeout session when Morgan wrapped her arm around me and pressed me closer to her body. I was trapped. I could’ve wriggled free, but the feel of her breasts against my own chest distracted me from what she was doing - and what the stone was doing.

I started to feel dizzy so I opened my eyes. The nightclub started to spin. The neon and strobe lights were streaks circling me. Morgan stopped kissing me and held me tighter. “Close your eyes, it’ll help with the vertigo.”

It was the weirdest sensation. As if all of my senses doubled. I had more limbs. I was simultaneously sitting on this stool. But I was also standing. I had my arms at my side, but also wrapped around… Morgan?

When the vertigo passed, I found I was standing, and holding onto Morgan. I opened my eyes. I was startled to see myself staring back at me. I was holding onto… me?

That can’t be right. I’m standing where Morgan was. And my reflection - no, my clone, was sitting on the stool.

I let go and backed away. I was now holding that strange stone. 

My clone stood up off the barstool. “Tomorrow. The sixth floor of the library. 2 p.m.”

“W-what?” I said, confused. I then realized that wasn’t my voice. I reached up to touch my neck and I realized it wasn’t my hand and wasn’t my neck. I looked down at my hands. One hand was still holding the stone. I confirmed that it was a stone - one that was glowing green. I looked at the hands themselves. They were small and there were rings on various fingers and the nails were painted a deep purple.

My clone reached into the clutch that Morgan brought to the table. He pulled out a mirror and directed it at me. 

In the mirror I saw Morgan. I reached up to my face and watched, what was clearly my reflection, do the same.

“Daniel,” my clone said, “I know you’re confused, but you’re going to be Morgan for the rest of the night. Go with Jasmine and Sydney.”

“I have to take my friends home,” I mumbled.

“No, you’re Morgan now. You’ve been drinking. I’m Daniel now. I’m their DD.”

I was shocked. This was unbelievable. I then realized I was feeling kind of a warm buzz that hadn’t been there before kissing Morgan. He was right. I did feel buzzed.

He noticed I was still in shock. “Hey.” His voice cut through the music with a tinge of calm empathy. He reached out and grabbed my hand and squeezed it. “Look in the mirror again. You’re Morgan for the rest of the night. Tell me you understand.”

I looked in the mirror again, and my reflection showed a very scared, very shocked Morgan. I then looked up at my body - who had a very mischievous smirk. So very unlike me. I nodded. “I understand.”

“Tell me your name.”

“Dan-”

“No, what did I just say?”

“M.. Morgan?”

“Good girl,” he said, and he grabbed my shoulders. “You’re right, you’re Morgan tonight and I’m Daniel,” he affirmed as he handed me Morgan’s purse. “You girls have fun tonight.” 

“Does Jasmine know about…this?” I asked, my hand gesturing back and forth between us.

“It was her idea,” my old body laughed. “Now get going.” He turned me around to face Jasmine and Sydney who were watching us. I jumped forward with a squeak as I felt a hand playfully slap my ass.

It was then I realized I was wearing very thin and very tight clothes. I looked down to see very ample cleavage encased by the strapless dress Morgan was wearing. I was tempted to reach up to see if they were real and prove I wasn’t dreaming. But I also realized I was being watched. I then looked beyond them to see the hem of the dress barely reaching mid thigh. My legs were kinda cold, but I was oddly used to it. My feet kinda hurt, and that’s when I realized I was wearing heels.

I only got a few steps when I turned around to face my body.

“Tomorrow afternoon. Sixth floor of the library,” he yelled over the sound of the music.

That was when Jasmine reached out and took my hand and led me back to their table. I didn’t trip despite walking in heels. It was as if I'd walked in heels forever.

I looked at Jasmine and Sydney. Did they know? “I’m…”

“Morgan,” Sydney reiterated.

I get it. We swapped bodies. Jasmine and Sydney are in on this- whatever this is. But what am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to be Morgan? Tomorrow afternoon at 2? They want me to be Morgan for the next 15 hours?

While I was contemplating what just happened, Jasmine took the stone from me and put it in her own purse on the table. She then took Morgan’s clutch from me and set it down next to her own. After that she grabbed my hand again and led me to the dance floor. 

We walked right by Mike who was lost in the beat of the music. He noticed me, but naturally didn’t recognize me. He not-so-subtly checked me out from head to toe before giving me a drunkenly flirtatious smile.

That was bizarre so I turned my focus back to Jasmine. 

“Let’s dance!” she urged.

“But, I don’t dance,” I declined. “I don’t know how.”

“Yeah, you do, girl,” she replied, taking my hand and starting to sway.

I could hear the song, and feel the beat, and I found my hips starting to shake with it. I gradually found confidence. Even though I didn’t know what I was doing, my body did, and I swayed with the music so effortlessly.

“There you go. You found your muscle memory,” Jasmine said. “See how easy it is.”

“I’m dancing!” I said, amazed. “In heels!”

“You are!” Jasmine smiled, reveling in my amazement. “Watching a newbie’s first time in a new body never gets old.”

“I don’t get it,” I said as we danced. “I have so many questions-”

“Save the questions for tomorrow,” she stopped me. “It’s girls’ night. Enjoy it.”

We danced a few long songs before Jasmine suggested we go back to the table for a drink.

I followed her and when we reached their table, I looked over to the table where I was perched earlier in the night. My body - or rather Morgan - was not there.

“Where did… I… go?” I muttered, suddenly feeling worried. What if something…happened?

“You mean Daniel?” Sydney clarified. “He left with his friends a few minutes ago.”

I realized that Morgan had my body. My car keys. My wallet. And now my friends. I hoped she knew what she was doing. But then I remembered all of those bizarre questions she asked me while we were making out. My friends’ names. Which dorm I lived in. What my car looked like. It was bizarre at the time, but clearly she had a method to her madness.

“Don’t worry about him, Morgan,” Jasmine said to me. “Let's worry about us. The night is young.”

Something happened when she called me Morgan. I got excited. This suddenly felt real. I was getting an evening to live as someone else. But not just anyone. An attractive college coed. My hang-ups eased and I smiled. “I’m Morgan,” I stated confidently.

“Yes, you are,” Jasmine confirmed.

“Ladies, let’s toast!” Sydney announced.

Each of my new companions took a drink in their hand. The remaining drink must be Morgan’s - or rather mine - now. I picked it up.

“Cheers!” Sydney toasted. We clinked our glasses and sipped our drinks.

I took a sip. I recognized the drink as a gin and tonic. But, I didn’t find it nearly as revolting as I would normally, and I took another sip. Actually, this was rather tasty. Was this a top-shelf liquor? A different flavor. Another sip.

“Slow down,” Jasmine advised, pushing my hand with the glass back down to the table. “You’re going to experience a whole new world of sensations. Slow down and savor it.”

* * *

She was right. The night was young. We paid our tab and headed to the next club. The next one was more crowded than the last. I noticed right away men’s eyes were all over me. At first, I would tug at the hem of the…of my dress. I was also concerned that my dress was strapless. I was afraid my… boobs would spill out of the top. But soon I found my lack of confidence and unease about being in women’s clothing dissipating. It felt normal.

Speaking of boobs. I couldn’t take my mind off them. Whenever I looked down they were in my field of vision. I could feel their weight on my chest. I felt some desire to touch them because they were now a part of my body. I didn’t. At least not with my hands. My arms would graze against them as I danced, reminding me they were still there.

We danced some more. At first I would notice how this body moved. The hips. The breasts. But those sensations culminated in a feeling I’d never felt before. I felt sexy. And with that came more confidence. I danced and moved to the music - not because I was trying to dance for Jasmine - but because it felt good!.

I clung to Jasmine and Sydney most of the night. Jasmine took me under her wing and made sure I was doing OK. Sydney got us more drinks. I wasn’t sure how old any of us were. I am - or rather Daniel is 19 and it’s likely so is Jasmine, maybe even my current body, so we were underage. But Sydney would come back with three drinks every time, and I drank mine, no questions asked.

Jasmine pulled me into the women’s restroom. I was hesitant at first. Mostly guilty about being a guy in the women’s room. I read that transgender women often got harassed for being in women’s-only spaces. But one glance and nod by Jasmine told me I was safe with her and it was OK.

In fact it was…underwhelming. It was just like a men’s room without urinals. Women going in and out of stalls. Women adjusting outfits and makeup in front of the mirror. Women chatting. Now, that was different. There was no talking in mens rooms.

We each waited in line for a stall. I was a little nervous at first about my new equipment. What do I do? When a stall opened up, I went in and as if on autopilot pulled down my panties, sat on the toilet, and did my business like it was no big deal. That felt really good and I couldn't wait to do more exploration.

After I was done and flushed, I joined Jasmine at the sink. I looked at my reflection. Amazing. I never in my wildest dreams imagined being a woman, and now here I am one. I washed my hands in the sink, never taking my eyes off my reflection.

“You’re doing great, Morgan,” Jasmine whispered to me. “You’re a natural.”

“How can I be?” I asked. “I barely know who Morgan is.”

“Easy. You’ve got her muscle memory, her confidence, her attitude. Don’t worry about the lack of memories. The longer you’re Morgan, the more you’ll fill in those blanks. 

“I thought I was only her for the night?” I countered, feeling a chill go up my spine.

She smiled at me. “This time. Here,” she handed me a dark red lipstick tube, “touch up your lips.”

There would be another? I had just begun this time. I took the tube and mindlessly rubbed it on my lips and blotted it evenly. 

“See what I mean, Morgan? I’ll bet you’ve never done that before.”

I looked at my lips. They looked perfect, and oh-so kissable. I just did that?

I followed her out of the restroom for more drinks and dancing. In some ways it felt like I was reading a book or watching a movie. I did things Daniel had never done, and it felt perfectly natural - as long as I didnt think about it.

While we were dancing, I felt Jasmine’s hand gently caress my ass and her breath on my neck. I gave her my best flirtatious grin to let her know her advances were welcome. I had never been in this position before. The amount of non-verbal communication between Jasmine and I was amazing. She threw her hands over my shoulders and we peered into each other's eyes. Her eyes burned with desire and I could feel the heat emanating from her. I could also feel an unfamiliar dampness down in my panties. Neither of us could wait to get each other home, and my anticipation grew with every passing minute. Images of my earlier daydream about Morgan and Jasmine flashed in my mind. The idea that I was going to be living out that fantasy shortly was making me excited. My own anxieties about the unknown were on mute, guided instead by this body’s confidence.

Before long, it was 2 a.m., and despite being incredibly aroused, I was also feeling tipsy. The three of us left the club hand in hand, giggling. I had the most amazing time. We eventually reached the Uber that Sydney had requested. 

The Uber dropped us off at an apartment complex a few miles from campus. Sydney got out first and helped me out of the car, then Jasmine. Sydney wished us good night and Jasmine held my hand and led me to what I imagined was one of our apartments. Whose, I wasn’t sure.

She got a key out of her purse and we both entered the dark apartment. The entryway was still lit by the parking lot lights behind us. 

At this point, my anticipation of this moment was a loud roar in my mind. Apparently, not just my mind either, because Jasmine dropped her purse to the floor and threw me against the adjacent wall and started kissing me.