Chapter 02: The Next Day
I woke feeling sore and in need of a shower. I was still in my clothes and I was curled up into a foetal position on my unmade bed. The events of last night permeated my foggy brain that immediately made me painfully aware of my stretched bum and bruised pussy. I yawned and yelped at the ache in my jawbone from sucking their big cocks last night. My hand slipped between my legs and I felt the dried cum on my thighs as I stretched my legs letting my fingers burrow under the elastic of my panties to massage my hungry pussy. I felt so liberated now and as I relived the frightening abduction that morphed into the best sex session I have ever experienced, I played with my clit until I almost blacked out with the intensity of the orgasm that rolled through me. It was so powerful that I had to pull my hand away and roll back up into a ball like a hedgehog protecting its tender parts.
Enough of this I resolved to myself after a minute or two, staggering off the bed and stripping off my crumpled clothes. For a moment I paused to hold my big breasts and squeeze them like he did last night, that unseen man who with his friend had used me so well. I rubbed my big tummy that previously I was so embarrassed to show to anyone. Somehow something had clicked inside me last night and I had changed. Maybe not for the better, I had been such a slut in the end but it felt so right and empowering. And now I felt released from that tug of being inhibited and ashamed of my size. Fuck it and fuck them I said out loud to no one but myself. Then, like a complete sexual goddess I strutted to the bathroom, bouncing my tits and swinging my booty for no one to see. I smiled and then grinned at how good it felt, the cool air on my unwashed cum covered body, the pains of sex making me all the more aware of my sensuality. If those guys were waiting in the bathroom for me, I would jump them straight away, take control and fuck them until I was satiated.
But no, the shower was empty and I had to make do with my hands foaming up my body with an apricot scented body wash. I pulled at my nipples until they were erect and holding a breast I managed to suck on one of them. Oh that was so intense, sending tingles to my pussy until I had to stop. It was driving me crazy. I need a man right now. A big cock to play with and tease before pulling it towards my bruised cunt and massaging the pain away with an early morning fuck, right here, right now with the steam filling the room. My fingers found my tender clit and I barely touched it before slipping two fingers into my cunt and rudely finger fucking myself like the guys did to me last night with their lovely big hard cocks. I imagined it was the soft-spoken one inside me now as my fingers curled up inside me to really get me going into a frenzy again. I had to lean my head against the shower wall and steady myself with my free hand as I fucked myself silly while all I could see behind my closed eyes was my imagination of what his cock must look like thrusting in and out of me. It was like last night, blindfolded, lustful and thrilling. Then I came again in a rush that doubled me over and I collapsed onto the shower floor, panting and holding my fucking fingers in my sopping cunt until the contractions subsided enough for me to slowly pull them out. I sat there for a long time with the hot water running over my hair and body.
Finally I stood up again and finished washing my tangled hair and rinsing off before getting out and drying myself. The reflection I saw in the steamed up mirror was of a ravished woman, still panting and with a lost desperation in her eyes. It shocked me to connect the thought that it was me in the mirror and not someone else. What have I become I asked myself. Oh you're now a real woman my mother's voice sniggered in my head. Shut up Mum, I admonished back. Ok, ok, don't get angry, it will spoil your morning she calmly replied. Go find yourself a nice boy now. Someone I can be proud of she continued. If only, I sighed out loud, surprising myself. I locked my mind shut tight so than my mother's voice would not intrude on my thoughts. Time to get moving girl I said firmly to the face in the mirror and her serious reflection briefly smiled back at me before I abruptly turned and marched out of the bathroom which only weakened my resolve not to think about sex because my heavy breasts bounced and walking fast only reminded me of my insatiable pussy. Control girl. Control, I said over and over to myself.
I had several classes at university and then work at the café later on. Maybe I would go to the yoga class tonight with my friend Mona. So on went a pair of large fresh scarlet panties and a 38DD bra to match over which I slipped my mauve skin-tight yoga top that accentuated my belly. Then I wriggled into the matching yoga pants that were more like tights. My generous booty really filled them. I then found a dark purple shirt blouse and a short black skirt that went over the top of the yoga gear. To finish off the ensemble I pulled on my black leather mid calf boots. Looking in the mirror I saw a sex starved girl with lust in her eyes. I looked great with my shirt unbuttoned and loose outside my hip hugging skirt. I could see my breasts contoured by the tight yoga top and the curves of my hips and bum were outlined by my tight skirt. The addition of the boots made a statement that I was available and please come knocking at this girl's door. I tossed my long brown hair and quickly brushed it into some semblance of order. Ignoring any makeup I grabbed my laptop bag with my study notes and left the apartment, thinking how horny I still was even though I had been fucked for hours by two strangers last night and I had masturbated twice this morning. What is happening to me I giggled to myself, failing to keep my serious resolve in place.
Lectures were interesting and diverted me from my heightened sensuality although every now and again my eyes would wander around and linger on hunky guys. What am I thinking I would say to myself, they won't be interested in me, I'm too big. They all go for those scrawny ones. Maybe if I flirted with that guy on the side of the lecture theatre. He looks like he would know what to do in bed. No, I couldn't stand the humiliation if he rejected me. And so the day went on, repeated in various scenarios with the same want and need my body sought to fulfil but my fears and lack of self-confidence restrained me from acting on those desires.
By the time I got to my café job, I was feeling really horny again. I could feel my nipples rubbing against the lace of my bra making them swell and become all the more sensitive. It was a delicious sexual tension that I wanted to satisfy yet by not being able to do anything about it made me even hungrier for cock.
Every male customer got me thinking about exactly what was in his pants. I guessed size, thickness, colour, taste, cleanliness, hairy or shaven, soft or hard. Yum. These were such mouth-watering thoughts. This distracted me and several times I gave the incorrect change as I fantasised what it would be like to feel his lips on my cunt or me lick his engorged cock. Giving the wrong change thoroughly embarrassed me and I blushed beetroot red over my chest and neck so that his eyes would be drawn to my panting boobs. The young guys openly ogled me and grinned, making smart arse small talk that was supposed to be funny but really implied what a stupid cunt. My tummy would knot and I would have to find a way to cut him off whilst trying to recompose myself by moving quickly onto the next customer.
The older guys were gentler with me and I liked that they would umm and err and look down at the counter rather than my boobs. I knew they were sneaking a look too but their mutual embarrassment was sweet and my heart would melt in sympathy for their concern for flustered me. One of them had a twinkle in his eye and a kind smile. His hair was grey but he had that urbane sophisticated appearance that gave him a calm confidence that I so wanted for myself. I had given him a twenty-dollar note instead of ten dollars in his change. Most customers would have noticed the mistake and quickly departed with the extra money. But he drew it too my attention and handed it back to me. I was so grateful and I gushed my thanks to him nervously. He then handed me a five-dollar note and said it was a tip because he assumed I was a student and he liked to help others get ahead in life. I thanked him again and slipped the money into the tips jar behind the counter. When I turned he was walking out the door, thinking of things other than my erect nipples rubbing against the lace of my bra.
Time passed, customers emptied out of the café, dusk approached and my feet ached in my high-heeled boots. I emptied the tips jar to divide the money up with the cooks and other waitresses. We had a sharing scheme that sometimes worked in my favour and sometimes not. The five dollar note was folded and inside was an elegant card with his name and a phone number. Nothing else. It was if the rest was irrelevant. All that could possibly interest me was how to contact him. The rest would follow, was the implication. It took me by surprise. It was such an audacious conceit. Yet intriguing. Why? My heart beat faster. Why would he give me his card? What could he ever want from me? Not sex, surely? My mind wandered with potentialities. I slipped the card into my bra and finished up my chores, handing out the tips money to the others and without delay, departing.