Thanks to voila- for "requesting" this story. They were a pleasure to work with.
Summarized idea: She knows it's wrong to masturbate, but she's convinced herself that it's not masturbation if she doesn't orgasm. Her lesbian roommate finds out about her self-denial and pent-up desire.
Contains: orgasm control/denial, some confusion about sexuality, and dubious consent.
"What's up, buttercup?"
She groaned, letting her head flop back against the pillow for a moment. "If you're trying to bug me, you could at least use the right flower."
There was silence from her roommate's bed for a while, then: "How it goes, Rose?"
"I'm doing homework," she said, continuing to steadily type at her laptop. "Now leave me alone."
"Come on, I'm
bored
. You've been at it for hours. Take a break."
Rose didn't respond, focusing her gaze on the screen in front of her.
"You're missing out on vital human interaction," Meg said, then in a sing-song voice added, "And girl-talk..."
Just one more page,
Rose thought.
Then I can go to sleep.
"Aww, you're no fun."
After some time, her bed began to rock slightly. She didn't look over, but she knew her roommate was shoving the frame, trying to distract her.
"Pay attention to me," Meg fake-whined.
Rose did her best to ignore her, but that soon became impossible. Her only warning was Meg leaning over her. Before she could react, her roommate's mouth was on hers. She went rigid with shock, every ounce of her attention detailing the warmth, the softness, the way Meg's lip ring pressed against her.
Then Meg pulled back, grinning, and Rose unfroze. She shoved her roommate away, wiping her lips with the back of her hand as she blushed furiously.
"That got your attention," Meg giggled.
"You- You-" Rose sputtered.
"You don't have to scrub yourself off. It's not like I have cooties."
Rose looked down at her hand, realizing she had smeared lipstick all over it. There was a tiny bit that could only have come from Meg's black-coated lips.
I... I kissed a girl... I kissed a girl...
That was the only thought running through her head all night long, even as she half-listened and made vague responses to Meg's chattering. When the lights were turned off and she slipped under the covers, it was still all she could think about.
Well... that, and the throbbing ache between her legs, but that was nothing new. It only added to the list of reasons why she was having trouble falling asleep. She hugged a pillow to her chest and curled up around it, trying to embrace her tiredness. She wished she was in her own bed. She wished she had her fluffy toy sheep to snuggle with. She wished she was home... or maybe just back in her hometown, with friends and familiar sights all around her. She didn't want to be hundreds of miles away in an all-girls college, but she wanted to
go
to college, and this was the only way her parents would help her with tuition. This place was 'free from temptation.' After all the times they'd lectured her against masturbating and she still struggled to control herself, maybe she deserved to be sent off like this. She wanted to make them proud and be a good daughter. Here, though... Here she was lonely, horny, and homesick.
Meg helped with at least one of those things. She liked having her roommate's company, despite how different the two of them were, but the fact that Meg was so openly gay made her a little uncomfortable... especially after experiencing the effects firsthand. She still couldn't get the kiss off her mind. She rolled over and squeezed her pillow tight, letting out a soft sigh as sleep continued to elude her.
Soft warmth against her back... Hands running all over her body, touching
everywhere...
Hot breath on her ear... A pierced tongue licking up her neck, sending shivers through her... Pressure on her burning core, giving her the friction she so desperately needed... Her hips thrust forward of their own accord, grinding her dripping heat against the touch, but it was too yielding, too gentle... She whimpered with frustration, humping faster, harder... She was so close...
She woke with a jolt, taking a sharp breath as dream collided with reality and she tried to figure out which was which. Faint morning light streamed through the window, giving the white walls a soft glow. The pillow she had been cuddling with had somehow made it between her legs during the night, and a peek beneath the covers showed that both it and her panties had wet stains.
Her face burned. So did other parts of her. Her pussy was frantically begging to be rubbed, fingered, ground against, anything to release the hot, aching pressure in her belly. She tried to take deep breaths and managed a few shaky gasps, then realized her hand had been sneaking down her body without conscious intent. She needed it so bad. She could barely think about anything else. It had never been quite this intense before, but that wet dream had done something to her. She wasn't just aching; it was like she had an itch she
needed
to scratch, and every second she waited only made it worse.
She peeked over at Meg's bed, making sure she was asleep. Her roommate's head was covered by a pillow, only the lower half of her face and the fringes of her short black hair exposed. Rose slid one hand into her shirt and the other into her soaked panties, biting back a gasp as her fingers made contact with hot, sensitive flesh. There was no question of going slow; she plunged two fingers inside herself and moaned softly, starting to maul her breast with her other hand. She squeezed and kneaded, occasionally tweaking her stiff nipple as she pumped her digits, grinding the palm of her hand across her clit. The desperation subsided as she found a pleasurable rhythm, but the need was still there, thrumming in her nerves.
She had already been close when she woke up. It took only a few minutes before she reached that point where she knew a few thrusts would tip her over. She wanted nothing more in the world than to keep frantically fucking herself with her fingers until she exploded, but she pulled her hand away with a choked sob, clutching her thighs. She could feel her pussy twitch, clenching around nothing as it cried out for a few more seconds of stimulation.
This doesn't count. It's not masturbating. It doesn't count if I don't come. I'm still being good. I'm staying pure. I'm better than my body. This doesn't count. I'm being good.
She repeated the words to herself in a rapid, jumbled mantra, fighting back against the overwhelming lust. Touching herself only made things worse in the long run, but she needed those moments of relief when her body thought it would get what it wanted. She'd go insane otherwise. It wasn't about the pleasure. Really. It wasn't about how fucking incredibly good it felt before she reached that edge and had to leave her pussy throbbing untouched. It was just about a bit of relief, and she really, really needed that relief.
Her fingers found their way into her panties again, this time just seeking out her clit and starting to rub quick circles over it. A small whimper escaped her as she attacked her breasts, doing it hard enough to hurt in hopes the pain would keep her from that point of no return for a little longer. It only seemed to take her there faster, and before she knew it she had to yank her hand away from her crotch, involuntarily rubbing her thighs together as she squirmed in need.
I need to stop. I can't keep doing this. Meg's going to wake up. I need to get ready. I can't...
She began to stroke her clit through her panties, her breathing fast and shallow. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest and in the swollen little nub that her fingers made quick passes over. The layer of wet fabric deadened the sensation, made it take longer before she reached the brink, but it also made it difficult to tell when to stop. She gave herself one rub too many before pulling her hand away, and her pussy clenched down around nothing, screaming to be touched as one unsatisfying contraction after another made her writhe and moan. She kicked her heels against the bed and grabbed fistfuls of the sheets, using every ounce of her willpower to keep from rubbing herself to an actual orgasm.
"Keep it down, would you?"
Rose went rigid. Her gaze shot over to her roommate's bed and found Meg looking back at her, a sleepy smile on her face.
"I wouldn't be complaining, but you woke me up. You get really loud, girl."
"I- I- You- I-" Rose stammered, her face burning as humiliation and searing need crashed over her in alternating waves.
"Everybody does it. You don't have to be so embarrassed that I caught you." A teasing glint entered her eyes. "Unless you happened to be thinking about me already..."
The dream. The dream. That was
her
in the dream. I felt her piercing...
The realization must have shown on her face, because Meg cracked into a delighted, incredulous grin.
"Oh my God, I was joking. You actually
were.
" She clapped her hands together, giggling. "Little straight Miss Perfect, shlicking herself off while fantasizing about her lezzie roommate. That is just too good." She propped herself up on an arm. "So, Rose, how was I? Did I make you come
soooo
hard?"
Rose was not in the right frame of mind to process Meg's teasing - or actually, to process anything other than the utter mortification she was experiencing. She answered the way she had been raised to: truthfully. "I... didn't..."
