Samantha bent over and flipped the page of her book. She loved masturbating while she did her homework, but hated flipping pages because of the temporary pause in sensation it caused. Now it would be another thirty or forty seconds before she would come again, and her eyes were refusing to focus on the page. She was writing a report on Mary Queen of Scots for a class called "Great Women in History and Mythology." She was taking this class as an elective in college, and had no clue how the woman who was teaching it could expect them read so much. She was barely keeping her head above water with the assignments, and she had her vibrator to keep her interested. The other girls, and a scattering boys, who were taking the class, were probably bored out of their minds.
Samantha angrily pushed a strand of red hair back behind her ear and began reading the page over again. She was having trouble focusing, and the pleasure inside her was refusing to mount. She would have to achieve something, learn something, anything worth learning, before her climax.
Mary Queen of Scots had been executed February 8th, 1587, and it had taken three blows before she died. When the first blow struck, she was said to have cried, "sweet Jesus."
Samantha moaned. She learned something all right, and the pleasure mounted so suddenly she nearly forgot to breathe. Her body shuddered and she gasped in pleasure.
"Sweet Jesus!" she mimicked, loving the way the words felt on her tongue. For some reason, she couldn't help but find Mary the First's bloody death as anything but erotic. Maybe it has something to do with her heightened state of arousal, or maybe she was just a little off because of all the homework. She wasn't usually interested in bloody stuff, in fact she found it a big turn-off. She was normal, after all, even if she did have more sex toys than all the girls in her class put together, and still slept with a large stuffed toy dog in her bed.
She slapped her book and her legs shut and wiggled to turn off the bedside lamp. She lived in a double room of a two-room dorm suite, but the girl who would be sharing her room hadn't shown up yet. Rumor had it she was involved in some sort of foreign exchange program, or else was shacked up in her boyfriend's dorm room, eating ramen noodles and engaging in non-stop sex.
Samantha pulled up the side of her teddy bear nightgown and began fingering her clit. She hoped, whichever version of the story was true, her roommate would be back soon with all sorts of kinky stories to tell.
She threw her quilted doublet over herself and closed her eyes, smiling brightly. Her mind was filled with lovely kinky images, but she had never forgotten the terrible but oddly stimulating image of Mary Queen of Scots' bloody execution.
But all night, she tossed and turned feverishly as though her body was trying to remember something. Perhaps she was overly energized from so many orgasm. Her mind raced on and on, and she moaned and writhed under her blankets through most of the night. It seemed as though at one point she was beheaded, and in another she seemed to writhe in Hell, biding her time until the right moment for her escape.
When her alarm went off in the morning, Samantha stretched a little and then went out to the kitchen area to make herself cup of espresso. She was so groggy from not sleeping, that she very nearly broke the glass water pitcher that feed the machine, and she was clumsy handling the coffee grounds too, making a little brown mess that she needed to sweep up with a dish towel.
She grumbled out loud, scratching the back of her neck though the layer of fine red hair and trudged back to her bedroom, groggily clutching her precious source of caffeine as though it was a wine glass she intended to break in the palm of her hand. Samantha promised herself she wouldn't get off so many times before bed, but it was a promise she was pretty sure she wouldn't be able to keep. She was a pretty willful woman most of the time, but lost all self-control after two or three orgasms.
She threw off her nightgown and let it lie on the ground near her bed. There would be plenty of time to pick up after her morning classes, and it's not like she had a roommate to annoy. Her white nightgown looked cold and abandoned on the ugly grey carpet. Samantha herself was briefly left completely naked, having balled up and thrown her lacy red panties across the room earlier. She crossed her arms in front of herself and shivered slightly, though the weather was warm outside in Los Angeles this time of year. She couldn't help still being affected by the strange pointless dream. She picked up her double shot of espresso from where she had placed it on a stack of papers on her nicely disordered desk, and drank it down in one gulp.
The warm liquid seemed to revive her. She could almost feel the caffeine taking affect, though she knew rationally that the chemical would take longer than that to make its way into her bloodstream.
Samantha wandered off into the bathroom, still completely naked, and began brushing her teeth and removing the tangles from her hair. She decided to make this day special by wearing the smallest of her butt plugs to class. She had three that ranged in size from slightly smaller that a cock around the middle to so gigantic she didn't have a clue how she'd ever manage to stuff it up herself. She searched though a couple of the drawers before she found where she had placed her Vons-brand Vaseline. She squirted a glob into her left and began to lube the toy up, pumping it in her fist like she was giving it a hand-job.
She set the plug down on its base to prep her ass for the penetration. Resting with one leg on the toilet, she wiggled one of the already lubed fingers of her left hand into her ass and then another, slowly spreading them apart so as to give her anus a good stretch.
Samantha slowly navigated the toy into her, easing its length into her rectum. The toy made her instantly feel very stuff and self aware. She moaned with pleasure as the last of the toy came to rest inside of her, the silicon base sticking out temptingly from between her butt cheeks.
She ran back into her bedroom and, finding a clean pair of panties, quickly wiggled into them. She purposely set her alarm clock for the last minute so she could sleep as long as possible, and now that she was finally wide awake, she had to make up time.
She somehow forced enough propriety to make herself put on a strap lace bra beneath her tank top. Her blue jeans were so tight that the seat pressed tightly against the stub of the plug, pushing some of the wider base into her anus, intensifying the sensation.