Codes:  FF, reluc, oral

Rory Gilmore was deeply worried about her roomate, Paris Gellar, and not in a "Is she eating enough?" way.

More in a Psycho shower scene way.

In fact showers were part of the problem.  Whenever Rory took one Paris seemed to be there.  And she always seemed to be watching Rory whenever she thought Rory wasn't looking.  With a wierd "wolf eying raw meat" look.  Rory had enough of a problem with the dorm's communal shower.  This was starting to make her seriously consider giving up hygeine altogether.

Then there was the touching.  Paris usually avoided physical contact the way politicians avoided fiscal responsibility.  But lately she was always brushing against Rory's arm or side.  Once against her butt which Rory almost confronted her about but then she was a wary of confrontation as Paris was of intimacy.

Then last night she had woken to find Paris standing over her with a look of both hunger and tenderness.  She had pretended to still be asleep but it had freaked her out.

And she was doing it again right now.  Fine, time to take a stand.

"What are you doing Paris?"  She said in her best deadpan voice.

"Ah!  You scared me.  Don't you know better than to speak suddenly?"

"I'm not the one breaking the stalking laws," she said, eyes still closed.  She peeked out and saw a rare look of uncertainty passover her blonde roomate's face.  She sat up.

"Well?"

Paris sat next to her.  A long pause ensued.  Finally Paris mumbled something she couldn't hear.

"Volume up please."  Another mumble.  Rory made knob twisting motions in front of her roomate's face and was shocked when the other girl grabbed her wrist with surprising strength.

"I think...I think I'm in love with you, Gilmore," came in both a whisper and a rush, followed by the brush of soft lips against the back of her hand.

Before she knew it Rory had pulled away in shock and was crouched in a semifetal position as far away on the bed as she could manage.  She wasn't sure if she was more shocked at what Paris had said or that she was still calling her Gilmore.  Part of her wanted to scream "Dyke!  Dyke!  Burn her!  Burn her!"  Another part was curious and flattered and maybe just the smallest bit aroused.  Most of her was just confused.

Paris looked at her bitterly.  "So now you can have me hauled away and put in the stocks."

"It's not that.  It's just...  I never even considered.  I mean you do have a boyfriend."

"Jeremy?  That was...okay.  But not what they write poems about.  I never. managed..."

"You mean no..."

"No."

"I'm sorry."

"So you don't think, you and me..."

"Like I said I never really even considered it."

"Tell you what.  How about one kiss.  Just one."  An unheard of note of pleading entered the slim blonde's voice.  "Then if there's nothing I'll leave and go to another dorm."

Before she really thought about it Rory nodded.  At the nod Paris lunged, pinning her to the bed, her tongue shoved into the small brunette's full mouth less in a kiss than in an assault.  After Rory started struggling Paris sprang back, looking guilty.

""I'm sorry, I don't know what I was thinking.  I'll tell the dorm committee tomorrow I want to move out.  I'll sleep on the couch tonight."  She started to get up.

"Wait."  Unexpected and scary as Paris' actions had been a small part of Rory had responded.  "That wasn't a kiss.  You still owe me a kiss."

Paris ducked her head shyly, "I do?"

"Uh huh," and with that Rory leaned forward, pressing her lips against Paris'.  The reponse this time was as cautious as the first kiss had been ferocious, Paris' tongue probing carefully against Rory's lips which opened and let it in.  The two girls tongues slid against each other, clumsily at first, then in a knowing dance.

Once again Paris pinned the smaller girl down on the bed, but more gently this time.  She slid her tongue down Rory's arched neck and was gratified to hear a gasp of pleasure as it licked down the cleavage exposed by the scoop of the brunette's nightgown.  She slid her hand up Rory's leg and started to lift the gown's hem only to have Rory scoot out from under her.

"What now?  I thought you were enjoying this?"

"I was.  I am.  I just can't take off my nightie, that's all."

"Why not?  Afraid I'll see your underwear?"

Rory's blush told her she had guessed right.  "What is it?  Granny panties?"

"With my mother?  No way."

"Well, out with it Gilmore."  Paris stood up and maneuvered the delightful, irritating girl she loved and lusted after into a corner.

"All right, promise you won't laugh?"

"Of course I don't promise, I'm a bitch remember?"

"Oh yeah, I forgot"  With that Rory unbuttoned the back of her flannel nightgown and let it slide down her body.  Paris' gaze slid down along with it.  She couldn't help but admire the bare B-cup breasts and the slim torso.  then she saw what Rory had been so skittish about and while she didn't laugh she couldn't help but smirk and raise an eyebrow.

"Wonder Woman Underoos?  I didn't even think they made them in your size."

"Hey."

Paris pressed against her and hooked her fingers in the undies in question.  "So should I call you Princess Diana?" she smirked as she nuzzled Rory's neck.

"Anything but Gilmore."

"Your wish is my command oh, Wonder Girl," she said as she kissed her way down Rory's writhing body down to her dark haired cleft.  At her first lick Rory shuddered with pleasure

"Ah!...Then you should call me Drusilla, not Diana."

"Huh?"  Paris looked up with another arched eyebrow.

"Wonder Girl was Diana's *sister*, Drusilla."

"You know what?  Sometimes you talk too damn much."  With that the blonde girl led her lover-soon -to-be back to the bed and stripped off her own bedclothes, revealing a slender, but attractive figure with cone shaped breasts, in contrast to Rory's round ones and a closely trimmed golden hedge, clashing with Rory's wild, dark bush.  She pushed Rory down on the bed and straddled her face.

"Now shut up for once and lick me."

"Yes my Queen,"  Rory said meekly and proceeded  to slide her toungue first up and down and then, to Paris' moaning pleasure in and out.

"Oh...yes...," Paris reversed herself and the two coeds were soon locked in a passionate 69, soon coming as one and collapsing together in happy exhaustion.

"You *are* my Princess," whispered Paris.

"No, your slave," replied Rory, licking her cumjuice off the pale beauty's lips.

"Both," concluded Paris with a grin.