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Meredith’s chest heaves with labored breaths. “Shh, relax my dear,” Heather said. The musky scent of her arousal perfumes the air. Meredith whimpered. Heather’s exposed, twitching sex seemed to demand a response, a reaction to her brazen, depraved act. Her elbows rest on the backrest, forcing her torso to bend forward and exposing the gentle curves of her back. Her voice trembled with a barely contained terror. The room possessed an advanced, edited sort of allure — part vintage, part college sophistication. A soft moan escaped her lips as she teased herself. The poor girl’s eyes widened in stark fear as she took in their massive, muscular frames, so out of place in the sorority suite. Heather’s clit throbbed at the apex of her spread thighs, flushed and engorged with arousal. She glares at the Heather over the man’s shoulder, fresh tears spilling down her flushed cheeks. The sorority president’s arousal was plain to see, her pink folds already dewy with excitement.