Yes, this story sounds familiar. I tried to edit the old one, but it spent a week unread. This is me trying to improve my skills and re-edit old stories that make me cringe. Enjoy!
And thank you again, Mr.Long, for all your help and friendship.
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Frustrated, Beth swung her legs over the side of her bed and headed for her morning shower. She had awoken like usual, horny and craving an orgasm. She touched herself, trying to arouse and pleasure herself before getting out of bed, but had failed miserably. Instead of building to a crescendo and providing a release to start the day -- she'd made herself numb no matter how she'd touched herself, ending up tense and frustrated.
Barely awake, she crawled out of bed, grabbed a fresh towel, and went to the bathroom. Leaning over the sink, she took a close look at her face.
Man,
she thought to herself,
At times like this, I'm so glad I wake up alone.
She shook her head, shivering at her own image. Taking off her pyjama top, which was no more than an old Broncos jersey, she stood in front of the mirror, wearing just a thong, inspecting her body but not liking what she saw. Her belly was bloated, and her breasts seemed to be saggy today. Turning to her left and right, she sucked in her belly, pulled back her shoulders, and hoped it would improve her vision. Nope, even though her nipples, now visible in profile, appeared perkier than she felt, it still didn't improve her view of herself. Turning around, she looked over her shoulder at her butt.
I don't know what guys see in my butt,
she thought, grimacing at her own view.
I hate my ass.
Shaking her head, defeated, she gave up and headed to the shower.
Removing her panties, she stuck her foot into the water, testing it first, before stepping in. Reaching for the radio, Beth pushed the button and immediately realized the batteries must have died as it wasn't working. When she pulled the shower curtain closed, one of the rings caught, and then with a good yank, she ripped three more from their holes, leaving the corner barely closed.
Hmph,
she hissed, mumbling to herself;
Didn't I just buy this piece of crap?
The shower head was on a list of things to fix that she hadn't gotten to, and this morning it was worse than usual, squirting water everywhere except on her. Turning the volume down, she finally managed to get enough water on herself to finish cleaning herself -- but it was only a trickle. With the torn curtain not responding properly, she stepped out of the opposite end of the shower, her foot slipping out from underneath because she missed the bathmat. Trying to catch herself, her hand darted out to find the curtain rod. Unfortunately, the tension-mounted rod didn't support her weight, and she tumbled to the floor, banging her hip against the tub.
Thinking about what else could go wrong, she lay there a minute, rubbing her hip. Then, standing back up, she wrapped herself in a towel and, unable to see in the steamy mirror, grabbed a second towel to wipe it clean. Unfortunately, while swiping across the foggy mirror, the long end of the towel knocked her makeup tray into the toilet. "Ughhhhhh," she growled out loud, "What else?"
Beth went to make breakfast, managing to get dressed without any other disasters. The toaster was set too high and burned her toast, so opting for cereal instead, she reached for the last quart of milk, only noticing it had gone bad when clumps of curdled milk fell into her bowl. "Craaaap!" she fumed.
When she finally managed to leave the house, 10 minutes behind schedule, she knew she wouldn't make Tim's before getting on the highway.
Maybe when I get to the city, I can stop at the Tim's down the street from campus,
she hoped.
It was mid-March, and although the days were getting longer, the clocks hadn't yet switched, so it was still dark. Although it would warm up nicely later, it was still just below freezing at night, and the car seat was a cold, hard and uncomfortable hunk of plastic.
She hated 8 o'clock classes; they made her feel like she was attending night school, getting up in the dark and arriving home in the dark, the entire day passing while she was indoors. Although this time of the morning was very peaceful, the sun just breaking the horizon, she wished it were just a bit lighter.
Beth was generally on the road by 6:30. Usually, she drove close to the speed limit, but today she knew she'd have to kick it up a notch to make the coffee shop before class. Finally, things seemed to be going her way. She was halfway down the highway, singing and dancing along with the radio, when she noticed the car start to shimmy and wobble. Maintaining control, the wobbling turned into a thumping as she pulled off to the shoulder.
Damn it! Now, what?
She wondered, turning the car off before getting out. She walked to the other side and saw the cause of the wobble and thumping, a flat tire.
Having previously changed a tire along the road, she figured she'd quickly take care of the flat, popped the rear hatch, and retrieved the spare. Pulling it out and dropping it onto the ground, she soon realized it was still flat from a few months before. She remembered that she was going to get that repaired, but she'd completely forgotten about it out of sight and out of mind.
"Damn it!" Beth yelled aloud. "Damn! Damn! Damn!" Clenching her hands into fists, she kicked the tire; sharp stabbing pain in her big toe was the immediate response. Hopping around as the pain subsided, she inhaled deeply to calm herself and leaned against the car. Then, holding her aching foot, she realized there was no one to curse but herself. "I FREAKING HATE MONDAYS!" she yelled.
Knowing now that she would definitely be late, Beth decided to call the CAA and deal with the hour or so wait. Searching her purse for her cell, it only took a second to remember setting it beside the front door while she was putting her shoes on this morning. "Seriously?!" she asked aloud to no one, questioning the air, shaking her purse angrily.
With her hands on her hips, tapping her uninjured toe, she looked at the tire, her watch, down the highway, turned and looked back the other way, and then sighed heavily in defeat. Then, remembering the Husky service station wasn't far, probably only a kilometre or two away, she decided to walk.
After returning the flat spare to the trunk, she reached back into the car for her coat, instead finding a light cardigan. This time of year, she usually never left home without a coat or at least a heavy sweater. Still, in her haste to leave the house today, she'd run out the door without one, just another symptom of how her day was going.
Angry at everything that had gone wrong, Beth chastised herself, stomping like a petulant child. Already chilled from just walking around the car, she knew if she were going to keep warm, she'd have to put some effort into walking fast. Turning toward the Husky with her chin held high, Beth dramatically flung her purse over her shoulder, locked the car, and stuffed the keys in her pocket. Then, silently promising herself that this streak of bad luck would end, she started a march with determination and anger. Immediately her toe throbbed, her determined stomping eased out of necessity and walking softer improved her attitude somewhat.