Hopefully, you've read the previous parts--as some of this won't make too much sense if you haven't. Either way, the cast is eighteen and I thrive on your love and affection. Vote me well, mon ami... vote me well.
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The next morning was a hazy shade of warm beery tastes lingering in the back of Ginnie's mouth. She woke with a grumpy headache and had it not been for the remarkable sight of her roommate sleeping in that pink cloud of a bed, she'd have groaned and bitched all the way out the door to the bathroom with towels and her shower basket in tow. But, Ginnie stood there, quietly and curiously. Sissy was curled up in a comforter far too fluffy for anyone's good, peacefully sleeping away what looked like a worse hangover than Ginnie had.
Sissy looked the picture of a girl who had partied too hard. Her makeup was streaked, her shiny blonde hair ruffled and sticking up in strange places, and the red cocktail dress Ginnie had noticed in the girl's closet was hanging half-on and half-off while she snored lightly. All-in-all, Ginnie was most surprised by the girl even being there at all. She hadn't seen Sissy in the room at all the whole first week of classes--and had actually become accustomed to not really having a roommate at all.
Curiosity gave way to exhaustion, which gave way to a desire to clean up slowly and lazily in the shower. Ginnie cocked her head to the side, for a moment, and wondered why she felt so conflicted about Sissy. She could have sworn that there was hatred for this girl a week ago; but now, she just looked at the sleeping girl with the mild curiosity of a scientist from some other planet. She was a stranger. That, she felt, was strange all by itself.
Ginnie grabbed her shower basket, her robe, and a towel, and walked down the hall to the bathrooms. The dorm's bathroom was a large room with stalls and sinks on one side and a row of somewhat larger shower cubicles on the other. They were spacious and pleasantly efficient. Once you got past the idea that others were showering only a few feet from you, it was actually kind of nice to walk around and get clean without the cramped feel of showering at home.
While not tall enough to see over the edge of the walls, usually, she found she could peak a bit if she stood on her tip-toes--which was more to hold a conversation with Tina than anything else. The tall redhead had a habit of asking if Ginnie was paying attention when she couldn't see her face-to-face. But, the bathroom was empty and the light echoes of her footsteps were kind of nice. No playing audience for Tina, today--she'd just be lazy and frumpy and take a long, long, long hot shower. Unlimited hot water and spacious privacy was an enticing place to recapture some of the life that had evaporated out of her with the alcohol.
Ginnie ran the evening through her head a dozen times and still couldn't entirely believe she had touched Troy like that. Or said those words. Or even dressed up and went in the first place. How could it be that she'd changed so fast? She wasn't like this before coming to college (only a bit more than a week ago). Had she even really changed? Ginnie was not much for existential questioning, her mind was a little more practical, and the idea that she didn't know who she even was just annoyed her in that "I'm being silly" kind of way.
But, she liked drifting back to Troy. And what she had done to him. She didn't feel powerful, per se, but she felt something. Ginnie turned the scene over and over in her mind. The way he smelled, which made her flutter just thinking about it. He smelled clean and earthy--like fresh leather or something. It made her warm imagining his hands sliding all over her backside, taking their own joy in her. She felt attractive. Not powerful, so much as desirable.
Her face was red and she could feel herself getting a little warm down between her thighs. What an effect this steamy shower was having on her! She walked cautiously over to the door and stood on her tip-toes. Looking right. Looking left. Straining to listen. And satisfied she heard nobody, she went back toward the shower and quietly bit her lip and tried going back to the night before.
The smell of him, like a man--she supposed that was what men were supposed to smell like. And how strong he felt, how he grabbed her and how his lips were a little rough, but hers were very soft. She thought about how the muscles in his neck strained when she pulled him over to kiss her. How she could hear him breathing heavy, and how his short hair felt in her hands. And then, with her own hands running soapily down her breasts and over her tummy, down to the place that was almost throbbing with demanded attention... she remembered what he felt like through his pants.
How he felt hard and unreal. She remembered that when it came out it looked so big, like it would never fit her--like it might hurt her, but she recalled being more excited by that than scared of it. She could see him touching himself and she heard herself saying those words that Tina gave her. And while she pictured Troy jerking himself off to her pleas and moans, she slid one wet finger between her folds and started slowly stroking into herself--slow, like he was doing it, and then faster and faster as she imagined it all.
But her imagination started wavering with her own need to cum, and instead of her telling him to touch himself and go faster and faster, she was picturing a different night altogether. She imagined Troy turning her around against the door instead of him, and pressing himself against her as snugly as she had pressed against him. She could smell him near her and hear him whispering in her ear instead.
She imagined him holding onto her tightly, telling her to bring herself off for him. She could hear his voice saying it.
"C'mon, baby... rub that little pussy for me."
Oh, the thought of him making her pull her skirt up and finger herself for his pleasure made her knees weak and brought stars to her eyes as her own orgasm drew a shuddering and satisfying "mmm" from her lips. She'd been trying to stay quiet, but she felt wave after wave come over her and she couldn't keep her silence with how hard she was cumming from imagining Troy watching her, forcing her, wanting her... desiring her that way.
"God, that's hot."
She could hear him complimenting her between gasps for air as the stars subsided, as she leaned against the shower stall with the hot water washing over her.
"You are the sexiest fucking bitch ever."
Ginnie froze.
That wasn't her imagination. And in sheer terror, she realized there was a guy in the stall next to her. Her blood went cold and eyes went wide, she stood there motionless and petrified.
Oh, oh my God
, she thought to herself,
ohmygodohmygodohmygod...
"Mmmmm, don't stop. Please don't stop. C'mon, baby... don't tease me like that." the voice in the stall next to her said.
Panting and shocked, Ginnie stood there, she was dripping wet and so turned on by the idea that Troy would be watching her touch herself, she felt herself getting heady about the idea of this strange guy doing the same. She was still breathing hard, and her hand was still clutched between her legs--she started massaging herself, slowly.
"Oh, that's it. Just like that." the voice moaned. She could imagine him touching himself on the other side of that wall, and she took a deep breath and shook her head...
oh, if he's seen this much so far, what's the harm
, she thought. She started rubbing herself up and down, grazing her clit each time and she closed her eyes and listened.
"C'mon, baby, faster... a little faster." And, Ginnie smiled to herself as she drew her fingers up and down over her pussy quicker and quicker.
"Make it nice and wet, baby, I'm almost there. Keep going, oh, you're the sexiest fucking thing." the voice moaned.
Ginnie picked up the pace and threw a hand out to brace herself against the shower stall as her fingers flew over her throbbing clit, twitching faster and faster. She could feel herself start to go, and she wanted so badly to cum.
"That's it, oh God damn, that's just right. I'm so close." the voice groaned out into the bathroom.
Ginnie's eyes were clenched shut, her hand furiously bringing her off on the biggest orgasm she felt she'd ever had, and at that last little bit--the point where she knew she couldn't hold back as her wrist ached and her pussy felt like it was on fire, she said "I'm cumming... for you..." and the world exploded into lights and darks and all the air went out of her and she slid to the floor. Her body twitching and her thighs pressed tightly together as her body felt light and her pussy quivered.
