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Nobody in the dorm knew he had a big brother. He never talked about him. It sounded like he was referring to his brother in the past tense, so I asked him if his brother were still alive. He gave me an almost blank look and answered, “Sort of.” I never asked about him again. It was right after Christmas break when I first saw the Ice Queen on campus. I had heard about her and her entourage, but this was the first time I actually saw her. Her real name is Twila Newberry, but everyone calls her TN– pronounced Teen. Behind her back, many of the men– and some of the coeds– call her other things, including “The Ice Queen.” As she walked through the crowd in the main quad, I noticed that Dwayne and his friends, even though they made a lot of jokes about Teen, seemed to steer clear of her and the five young women who scampered along behind her like some sort of royal court. As she approached me in the crowd that day, I couldn’t help but think, “Queen Teen.” She walked like royalty and the crowd parted in front of her to let mature her and her entourage glide past. After that day, she seemed to be everywhere on campus... or at least, she seemed to be where I was a lot of the time. Often she and her court would push past me in the crowd at a game or in the rush into or out of one of the buildings just before or after a class. When that would happen, she would always stare at me for just a second as she passed by. It was a very scary stare– like a mongoose would give a small bird just before devouring it. Her almost black eyes seemed to bore right through me even if I didn’t meet her stare. I was always shaking slightly with fear long before the first of the girls of her court walked past me. The girls were different. They didn’t scare me. Most of them just smiled slightly at me as pov they walked past. real Maybe the Ice Queen’s court didn’t scare me because they were so much different from her. They didn’t have her black eyes... or her black skin. All of them were very fair-skinned... almost as pale as me. And they all had light eyes. They weren’t all blue-eyed blondes, but even if they casting were brown-eyed, it was a very light brown with traces of green around the edges. And their hair was all the same shade as mine or lighter. The Queen’s court– I liked to think of them as her royal attendants or whatever– The Queen’s court always dressed exactly alike in light pink skirts with white pullover blouses, and if needed, a slightly darker pink jacket with white fluffy, fur-like cuffs. Unlike the Queen’s skirt– or pants– their skirts were really short so if there was any wind at all the frilly cloth would blow up and you could see their white amateur satin panties underneath. Maybe they weren’t actually satin, but they were very shiny... and very, very snug. Maybe they were a special kind of spandex or whatever because they formed themselves exactly to the shape of the girls’ cute little butts. Except for the fact that they were girls, the princesses reminded me a lot of me. A couple times as they were going past, I thought that if I were a girl, I would probably still be a nerd, but I could at least be in the Queen’s court. I know that they are just subservient lackeys, but at least they belong somewhere. And the Queen is very protective of them. I once saw some half-drunk wanna-be jock at a football game try to grab one of the princess’ asses. She squeaked in fear when a giant hand grabbed a handful of her satin panties. Queen Teen immediately spun the pervy guy around and decked him with a quick uppercut and a high kick to the chest. I stopped to get a better look and saw an attractive woman in a blue summer tank dress approaching the building. “Baby”, Mandira intervened, placing her hand inside his thigh, “Tisca is my sister. “So why don’t we all just take our tops off?” I pulled her after me pov as I backed towards the bed. “Deep in the heart of the Frontier, and far mature beneath the ground.” "Oh, one more thing." I wasn’t a casting slut, but I wasn’t a prude either. Nevertheless, she rewatched the footage every day for a real week, and made herself cum every time. One dark haired boy bumped into her spilling his drink onto her skirt. “Staring at those sweet, young things.” Her body was enjoying what her son was doing, and her pussy was coming alive with pleasure. It was such a luscious feeling. The weight of the person stayed on her, and she felt amateur the milk fountain from the breast under the boot. You might even earn a tip, for the special show tonight. Knowing this won’t be my last time in here, ended up like this. "What were you wearing at the time?"