"You don't want to remember until next time?"
"No, but I want the changes to remain, can you do that?"
"Yes."
Her alarm went off at 5am as it had every day this week since Monday morning, an early time to start anyone's day especially for a college student on a Saturday. But for a star athlete like Laura it was necessary to help maintain her abilities on the pitch. It was a new addition to her routine but it was hard to argue against the results. Since she began upping her focus on working out more often and changing her diet to bulk up more her performance in her volleyball practice had increased dramatically, and she didn't complain about the changes she was seeing in the mirror either.
The thing is Laura wasn't exactly sure what spurred her new exercise routine on. She certainly hadn't been slacking by any means and her college team wasn't doing too bad in the league collecting a moderate number of wins. But Laura hadn't put too much effort in before because she hadn't needed to. She'd been labeled a natural athlete all her life, she was tall and got enough of a workout at practices to maintain a good amount of bulk that she excelled at sports without much effort. So much so that she'd managed a sports scholarship with that same minimal effort. Much to the chagrin of a number of her classmates. Thus the reason why she had decided to actually put real effort into strengthening herself now when she tried to recall the reason was, foggy.
Reaching into her mind for the why of the matter she vaguely recalled the many times she'd attempted to put effort towards this endeavor before. Many instances of her trying to get up early or go to a gym filled her mind most thwarted by repeated uses of the snooze button on her alarm. But for a whole week now she had dutifully awoken at 5am every day, changed into running gear and went out to the track field for an early run. There was one noticeable difference however and perhaps the reason she'd kept at it this time around.
Him.
He was short, scrawny, and always on his laptop. But he was always there, sitting in the stands typing away. What he was working on she was never sure. He just sat there every day, in the same spot, the only one sitting in a stadium that could seat thousands watching the singular athlete on the field competing every morning.
Perhaps he just liked an isolated place to work. He had been there even on the first day she started working out in the mornings so she couldn't just ask him to leave and it's not like he ogled at her, not that she felt like there was much to ogle at. Laura never felt like she was particularly feminine, most men thought she was too tall, too strong, too butch. The men who were into her however didn't make her feel femimine either, she just wasn't into what they wanted. "Sit on me, crush me with your thighs, be my mommy" Laura recalled a few choice lines from some of the men who had tried to solicit her in the past. The other options were meat heads, men who could actually keep up with her, but more often than not they were either immature or just boring.
So why was it that when she took moments to briefly look up at the stringbean of a man who barely seemed to register her existence she felt a pang of excitement. An excitement that slowly worked its way to her pussy. While the new warmth in her core helped fend off the cool autumn air it inevitably became too much, and eventually, as she had done every morning this week, she decided to finish her work out and masturbate in the dorm shower.
No one else was ever awake at this time on her floor, she barely believed anyone else was awake on the whole campus except for her work out partner, as she had taken to referring to him in her head. After confirming she was truly alone in the showers she peeled off her work out clothes, her sports bra and leggings soaked with sweat and the morning dew her panties however were soaked with a much different substance. When the cotton fabric parted from her pussy a string off her juices kept them attached for just a moment longer. She let out an unexpected moan when the cool air hit her newly exposed pussy, she hadn't prepared to silence herself yet as her thoughts were split between what she was about to do and why she was about to do it.
Him
She began her shower as she normally would, washing away her sweat and exhaustion. She cleaned her red hair first getting the morning grime rinsed out and working in her shampoo and conditioner. Body wash was next, she lathered herself up with a blend designed for particularly pale skin like her own, the little bit of melanin she did have, dotted her head to toe with freckles which did little to help when it came to sunburns. While the warm water was a welcomed relief to her aching muscles, something deeper ached for a different kind of attention. She resisted the urge at first, thinking that perhaps maybe this time it would just go away, but as she thought about him, her daydreams started. The same daydream she had every time she saw him. They were in the library, they were alone, he'd asked her to strip, she'd complied without hesitance, he'd asked her to kneel, she'd done without resistance, he'd used her, and she had liked being used.
Her fingers were already toying with her needy clit, they had gone there as soon as the daydream began, a wildly vivid daydream, as vivid as a memory. She wanted to bend to him again, she wanted to be used by him again, and when her fingers brought her to climax she knew it was only a mockery of the orgasm he could give her.
A strained moan escaped from her to mark that she'd finished her shower successfully and as she came down from her orgasm for not the first time she wondered why did she know that it'd be better with him? Why did she feel so familiar with a man she'd never spoken with? Why was it always the same dream over and over again? He wasn't exactly her type, though as she thought she realized he wasn't not her type either. In truth she simply hadn't contemplated his type before. Toothpick like men had generally avoided her as most of them wanted someone smaller than themselves, softer, feminine. Laura bristled at that thought as she finished drying off and slipped into her robe.
