with Lisette on the college quad

I love combing Lisette's hair in the quad. It's a thing we do every day after lunch. She lies on her back on one of the concrete tables, bends her knees, and lets them fall to the side, giving me a clear view of her beautiful forest of auburn curls. I do it nice and slow, using the soft brush and then the long-handled comb, then start over. No point to it really, she already brushes her hair every morning (actually, one of the other girls in her suite does it, it being easier for someone else to see down there, they take turns with each other), and it always looks fluffy and luxurious and fine, no doubt to that special egg conditioner they use. But I just love brushing and combing it. She likes it even more, she says it makes her feel loved, which she is of course. As I brush and comb I like to sit a little to the side, so that the whole world can get a view of her beautiful crotch and her gorgeous pussy, the lips spread ever so slightly because of the splay of her legs.

Her whole body is beautiful, and it makes me so proud that I have such a beautiful girlfriend whose body is on display in the center of campus. Not that all the other girls aren't beautiful too, the campus is alive with female loveliness. Odd that it should be so, here at Blanke Schande where female students are supposed to be totally naked at all times, but all BSC girls not only have killer bods -- the low-fat food and all that daily phys ed they have to do makes sure of that -- but they also have pretty faces. Lisette's friends, both the naked girls and the clothed guys, sit around the table and she looks up and gabs with them, just like it was nothing. A sophomore now, she has pretty much gotten over any modesty she had last year. Sometimes she giggles (I know I shouldn't be admitting this) as I slip a little of that long comb handle into her pussy, making sure no one sees (BSC is a very cool place but it's against the rules to screw in public), as she giggles I feel the comb tugging at me with every nuance of her internal muscles, like we're laughing together through her pussy. I could swear, when she gets excited about something -- like yesterday when everyone was talking about how hard last week's Euro history exam was -- her lower lips move around, opening and closing ever so slightly, like a second mouth talking along with her first one. Or maybe saying something different, more basic words that we can't hear with our ears.