Chapter 1
The night was hot as I tossed and turned under the gaze of a New Moon shining through the open window. A ceiling fan twirled above me sending wave after wave of cool air towards my body that was only barely covered by the single cotton sheet. I was completely naked save for the small red thong that clung tightly to my hips. My mind wandered. Thoughts of endless sand-covered beaches and tall salt-rimmed margs were dancing through my head. After spring break fun, it was hard to get back into the swing of cram sessions, study groups and wordy professors, but that is the life of a 20 year-old coed.
My roommate Rachel and I had spent the time off from school in Cancun. A week straight wearing only bikinis, sipping on huge cocktails with even bigger umbrellas, and simply enjoying being alive. A glimpse of the life that we both hoped to have once we were successful business women and could afford to spend our days getting massaged, laying-out, having diner, and getting massaged again.
Rachel and I were great friends, as close as two girls can be without being lovers. Having been roommates for less than a year, we met originally at cheerleader tryouts as sophomores in high school. We hit it off instantly, bonding as she reassured me after I was cut from the squad which she of course had made. With her long legs, cheery demeanor and limber frame she had been a shoe-in. She was quick to hold me close and wipe away my tears. I did not cry for long, I had a new best friend, who needed stupid football players anyway? I didn't know then that Rachel was more interested in the uniforms with skirts than those with shoulder pads. The boys were just an afterthought for her.
The room was quiet. The sound of the fan spinning the only sign that time was passing. The cool air on my hot body the only indication that I was here, back at school. A small candle flickered on the night stand next to my bed. Jasmine-scents floated up into the air on gentle wings. The soothing smell had always reminded me of Rachel. Jasmine had always been her favorite essence.
I turned my attention back from sun drenched beaches to statistics. I had a big test tomorrow, and had spent the better part of the day trying to catch up on my reading, and getting my notes together. I tried to concentrate on the task at hand, yet the only thought running through my head was; damn I sure could use a massage.
Heat pours over my body in a rush. It was not the ambient heat from the room, but a heat coming from inside of me. A hand on my left breast snaps me to attention. It slowly caresses the side and moves with love towards my hardening nipple. Taking it between thumb and finger, a twist, a squeeze and a pinch, my wetness grows as the fingers make love to my skin. Now ultra sensitive, a sigh escapes my lips as the hand rubs deeply and strokes smoothly towards the gap between my tits. Pausing to tickle my cleavage only for a moment, the hand moves, my right breast now subject to the kind of treatment that it had been wanting, needing.
My legs part as another hand brushes over my belly, leaving small trails of goosebumps wherever it touches. Lower it moves, resting briefly just below my bellybutton before digging under my thong, pushing it off of my hips and pulling it down to my feet, finally to rest on the bed beside me. My hips part as my knees come up as the hand moves toward my thighs. It dances along the tender flesh, teasing my skin as another soft groan escapes my mouth. My eyes close as both hands stroke my body, seducing me, loving me.
I cannot wait any longer I think to myself. This lust is complete, my desire a dull ache bringing the hand closer and closer to...
OHhhh, ooooooh I hear the carnal sounds rush out of me as the fingers brush over my flower, parting my folds and spreading the wetness up to my now swollen bud and down into my ass. Harder squeezes the hand on my breasts, pressing them together, twisting my nipples and caressing my soft skin.
Two fingers are now inside of me. I turn my head to the side as these experts feel their way towards my g-spot and back out, only to repeat a moment later. I arch my back and press my hips forward as a third finger is pushed into me. My legs spread even wider, my toes pointed at the ceiling. My breasts, now covered in sweat move up and down as my breathing increases. The moans have turned to low whispers and loud squeals as the fingers continue to pump in and out of my hot wetness.
The breast hand begins to move down also, down and down until I feel it open me up even further and begin a slow rhythmic circle pattern on my clit. This is all too much, I groan, the fingers move deeper, faster until I cry out into the empty room. Yes!!! YEeesssss!!!
I try to catch my breath as I suddenly find the fingers in my mouth. I savor the flavor of my sex, licking and sucking on each and every one of them. I have always been good at getting myself off. My fingers seem to know what my pussy wants even before she does. I love to make myself cum, yet it always seemed to leave me even hotter. Longing for a warm body to share my bed, share my love.
The door to our room opens suddenly as I quickly pull the sheet back over my hips and force my head down on the pillow. Rachel is getting home late from work tonight, poor girl. I am usually asleep by now, and don't really want to explain to her what I was just doing, so I pretend to be down for the night. She closes the door softly and slowly crosses the room so as not to make any noise. I smile as I watch her through half-closed eye lids. She is so sweet to be so quiet, I love her for it.
She crosses to the bathroom, opens the door and turns on the light. I watch as she lifts her blouse over her head, unhooks her bra and stretches her arms high towards the sky. My god, if there ever were a perfect pair of breasts, I was looking at them right now. She bends over, pulling her short black miniskirt down over her hips as she touches her toes, the light from the bathroom casting a soft glow on her bare ass.
I see you didn't wear any panties today, did you Rachel?, I thought to myself, You are such a dirty girl, and I love you for that too.
She turns and moves into the bathroom. The squeak of the shower knob and the soft pitter-patter of water droplets hitting the tub's basin tells me that it has been a long day for her. She usually didn't shower at night, unless it had been a bad shift. She had told me once that it helped to wash off the feeling of groping hands. I had never served cocktails, so I really wasn't sure what that was like, but I always felt for her, those bastards.