Filth

Abigail lay in her bed, listening as her roommate's faint breathing turned slowly to quiet snores. She could hear muted conversations around her from the girls in her suite. She was still getting used to them but, so far, they all seemed like nice girls. Shifting to her side, the young woman watched the other side of the room to make sure Sally, her roommate, was actually asleep. The other figure was blurry but unmoving.

With a deep blush, Abigail reached her right hand down to lightly touch the soft hairs above her sex. She turned on her side, facing the wall and just slowly stroked the tangle of chestnut hairs over and over. She could feel her shame burning to the tips of her ears. She almost took her hand away as an echo of her mother's voice filled her ears.

Your virginity is sacred, Abigail Young,

her mother always told her.

It belongs to your future husband. When you're married, you belong to him and no other. You give yourself to him body and soul and you please him as his wife. Sexual congress is between a man and his wife and anything else is filthy. You're not a dirty girl, Abigail. You're my sweet girl. God is always watching and you wouldn't want to offend Him, would you, Abi?

The young woman bit her lip to fight the urge to touch herself. Her whole body was sensitive and she knew the blood was coming. It was her one shame and her punishment for impure thoughts. Every month, she could feel the urge to touch herself. Every month her nerves would light up, begging to be touched. She fought it every time until the blood came to wash away her sin. Her breasts ached, taunting her. She wanted to massage them but the one time (

five times,

her mind whispered in correction) she'd done it, it'd only made the building ache worse.

It only made the urge to touch herself worse.

She could feel her heartbeat between her legs. Playing with her soft downy hair distracted her. Abigail could swear she felt heat radiating from further below. She moved and gasped quietly as her swollen sex pressed between her thighs. Quickly, she opened her legs and took her hand away.

I am a good girl,

she told herself.

I'm not dirty like these other girls, giving away their precious virginity to every man that looks their way. I will save myself for my husband.

Clasping her hands against her cheek, she began to pray. As she spoke the words and slowed her breathing, she found herself purposefully smelling the heady scent of her own sex. She hugged herself and continued her prayer until she drifted off to sleep.

-----

"All right," Abigail's chemistry professor, Ms. Lopez, said. "You have your groups and the next thirty minutes to get to know each other. If there are any questions, come see me up front."

Abigail made her way to a table in the corner. Two men and one other woman joined her as she sat, dropping her heavy backpack to the ground.

"Hey," the first man said with a smile. "I'm Jason. Pre-med. So far. I think."

"Aaron," the second man told everyone. "Criminal justice and I'm pretty sure about it. My whole family are cops. Or military."

"And I'm Stacy!" The last member said. "I'm not sure yet but I'll get it figured out. Maybe veterinary science. I kind of love animals so I'm leaning that way."

"I'm Abigail," she told them. "I am going into veterinary. My parents own a farm so I'm going to help out when I graduate."

"Oh hey, that's awesome!" Stacy told her. "I think I've seen you in a couple of my other classes, right?"

"Yes," Abigail replied. "And Jason, too." She blushed as she realized what she'd admitted; that she'd noticed the other student before. The young woman fumbled with her glasses as an excuse to look away from everyone. She couldn't help it - the young man was incredibly handsome and, so far as she'd seen, a really pleasant person.

"Oh, hey," Jason said. "I thought I'd recognized you. Dr. Schuler's class, right?"

"Yes," Abigail nearly whispered.

"Well, if you need a study partner for his class, I was thinking of getting a group together. Some of my old high school friends are in the same class and they're actually good people."

"God," Aaron said. "I haven't run into anyone from my old school. It's all good though. They were a bunch of shitheads"

Thirty minutes passed quickly as Abigail listened to her classmates talk back and forth. She found herself watching Jason from the corner of her eyes. He was extremely affable but didn't dominate the conversation and, instead, encouraged everyone to talk about their passions. Her heart raced listening to him. Every time she shifted on her seat, her rough homespun sweater scratched along her simple bra. Even through the padding, she could feel the brush of it against her nipples. A sharp ache flared deep within her with each movement. She pressed her thighs together on reflex but then opened her legs again as the pressure made it worse. Her sweater slid against her side and she shivered and it's caress.

God,

she prayed.

Please let this temptation pass quickly. I am your servant as always and ever will be but...

She let the thought drift away unfinished. It was no use praying to Him to end a trial. Her faith was strong and it was upon her shoulders to bear the burden.

Everyone separated as class ended. Abigail watched Jason leave, her eyes involuntarily tracking to his jeans, admiring the way he walked. Her breath felt tight in her chest. Her last class wasn't for another hour so the young woman made her way to her dorm. Even with it being a small, sleepy college town, the various footpaths were lined with students laughing and walking and rushing on their way to class. A few couples sat on the grass, surrounded by orange and yellow Fall leaves. Abigail blushed at one woman with her head resting in her boyfriend's lap. He was stroking the other woman's hair and smiling happily at her. It was too easy to imagine Jason doing the same to her.

Abigail dropped her backpack in her room. The suite was quiet, the other seven girls at class or somewhere else. She made her way to one of the two shared bathrooms and sat to relieve herself, shivering at the cold toilet seat. Finishing, she stood briefly to clean herself off. Her pubic hair was curled but, below, she could see her sex. Her small pink lips were nearly exposed and more red than they should be. She carefully swiped to clean herself and nearly moaned at the brief touch.

She stayed there, half-crouched, mesmerized by her swollen sex. She'd only looked at herself a few times in her life and only once before her blood came in. Only the once before when she'd found herself blushing at the lightest touch. She'd watched a mare be mounted and couldn't help but notice the way the animal's sex looked. Bulging. Swollen.

Just like she was swollen.

With a slow, hesitant finger, she touched her thick, glistening outer lips. Her hand drew away, quick as a viper at the warm, pleasurable response. She felt so

empty

. She wasn't completely shielded from real life. Living on a farm and working with animals, she was very aware of how a male took a female. She wondered, again, what a man's penis looked like one of the animal's penises. Like the horse? Smaller, of course. It'd have to be. She tried to laugh at the thought of Jason with a horse's thick, blunt penis but, instead found herself flushing in sudden heat.

Her lips glistened, nearly pulsing in time to her racing heart. She reached to pull her panties up and then stopped. Abigail touched herself. Her finger lightly pressed against the bottom of her sex, she slid it upwards towards her mound. The feeling was alien. And incredible. Every inch... every millimeter of her sex felt like it was a live wire. And the heat of it! Blushing, mentally cursing herself, she quickly pulled up her panties and jeans, almost forgetting to flush in her embarrassment.

You dirty.... you dirty... whore,

she scolded as she rushed out of the bathroom to clean her hands. It was her mother's words again. Over and over she washed until her skin was reddened from the hot water and scrubbing.

Not just touching yourself but in the bathroom of all places! You filthy, dirty...!

Abigail calmed herself, breathing deeply to settle her nerves.

The last class passed in a blur. Abigail barely listened to the teacher drone on about math and, instead, she spent the entire class in prayer. She said the rosary in her mind, using the spirals of her notebook in place of the beads. When she finished, she begun again until students stood up around her. She woke from her trance with a start and collected her things.

It will pass,

she told herself.

In a day or two, the blood will come and it will pass. Mother was right. Taking classes with other students would be a temptation but I must be strong. For God and for my future husband.

She'd been homeschooled by her family since she was a little girl. Years and years of curriculum laced with religious teachings. Church three times a week and the other nights spent praying with her family at home. Sunday school and dinners with their pastor. She would not be undone by her own base urges.

"Abigail!" a voice cried out. "Hey, Abi!" The young woman stopped to look around. Her heart sank as Jason caught up to her. "Hey, glad I caught you! Listen, we're having a little get-together tomorrow night. My best friend rents a house off campus and some of us are getting together to kind of kick of our first year. It'd be great if you were there."

"Oh," Abigail said, her eyes on the ground. She pressed her glasses further up her nose and then gripped her tight ponytail. "I... I don't think I can go, Jason. That's... that's not my kind of thing."

"Aww," Jason frowned. "I understand. I mean, there's going to be some alcohol but we're banning weed and we'll also have juice and stuff with people watching it all to make sure nobody fu- uhh, messes with it. My friend and his girlfriend don't drink. Just going to be a chill party, you know? Some freshman getting to know each other? Look, if you change your mind it's right over by the engineering building. Corner of 7th and Common. Big house, can't miss it."

"Okay," Abigail said. "I really don't think I'll be there but I appreciate the offer."

"No problem!" The young man grinned, small crinkles appearing at the corner of his eyes. Abigail blushed and adjusted her glasses again. "I'll catch you tomorrow in classes!"

Abigail stared at the ground until her face cooled. As isolated as she'd been growing up, she'd been around other men. She'd even found some attractive in an abstract kind of way. Knowing they were handsome or attractive but not feeling attracted to them. The rush of emotions for Jason was unfair.

Hiking her heavy backpack up, the young woman trudged through falling leaves on the way back to her room. A crisp wind whipped the end of her ponytail around and she hugged herself tightly, her thick brown sweater keeping most of the cold off of her. She raised her face to the wind and it cooled her; both her thoughts and her blood. She smiled with self-assurance, knowing she'd make it through the the next few days just fine. God was on her side.

-----

The bathroom lights reflected Abigail's face clearly. She laid her hairbrush, full of her reddish-brown hair, down on the counter and then arrayed her loose hair behind herself. Her face was clear and suntanned. Many years spent outside working on the farm had blessed her with darker skin and a spray of freckles. She was dressed in her pajamas - an old birthday gift from 3 years ago. The clothes still fit her petite frame. Despite her modest size, it was buttoned all the way to the top.

Opening her mouth wide, she examined her teeth. Although old fashioned, her parents had no problems splurging at the dentist and her teeth were nearly perfect. Glancing at the little clock on the counter, she grabbed a toothbrush to quickly finish her routine. Each girl had a certain time for the bathroom to make sure they gave each other space.

Teeth brushed, showered and clean and feeling sleepy, Abigail made her way to her bed. Her roommate, Sandy, grunted in bed as she passed. The other woman's first class was at 6 in the morning and so she was always the first in the bathroom and first to bed.

Abigail shivered in the cold open air. They weren't able to change the temperature for the rooms and coming from a hot shower, even a cool room felt like it was freezing. She shuffled quickly to her bed on slippered feet and then slid under the covers of her thick quilt - a gift from her grandmother. Sighing happily, Abigail pulled the blanket up to her chin and closed her eyes.

Heaven,

she told herself.

Pure heaven.

She prayed in bed. Her last routine before falling asleep. The effect was nearly magical. Rarely was it that she wasn't asleep five minutes after the last word. Except, this time, mid-prayer, Abigail's mind flashed back to earlier in the day when she was saying the rosary. Immediately, and despite her efforts against it, she thought of why she'd had to say the rosary. Images of herself in the bathroom. Thoughts of what she'd looked like. Of what she'd been thinking of.

Her body began to awaken. She shifted uncomfortable and the cotton of her sleeping clothes slid along her smooth stomach and sides. It was torturous. She could feel her nipples hardening in response and, worse, her sex began to ache. She turned to her side but nearly cursed out loud as her top slid against her small, hard nipples. The young woman felt it deep inside as a burning, electric sharp ache.

It's all his fault,

she thought.

Jason. He's just... just so...

His face filled her vision. The little lines at the corner of his eyes and the scruff of his trimmed beard. She heard his voice, deep and confident echoing through her head. Watching him walk. His pants had fit him

quite

well.

Her hand reached down, sliding against the bare skin of her stomach, tangling into the sparse curls of her hair. Abigail's face burned. It was worse than it had ever been. The urge. She couldn't stop thinking of Jason. Her hips made small motions, back and forth against the bed as she pictured the young man. The look of him.

Would

it be like a horse? She had vague memories of seeing her brothers and father naked when she was very, very young but couldn't remember anything distinctly. Nudity was not allowed around other people in their house. Would it have spots? Does it just hang there like-

Abigail froze. Her fingertip, nail trimmed low, brushed against her clit. Her heart pounded in her chest and throat and she burned to her ear tips. She could feel a sort of wetness. She could feel the heat radiating from her sex. She could feel...

Maybe,

she told herself, licking her lips.

Maybe it will go away if I touch myself a little. Maybe I just...

Slowly, carefully, her finger slid against the hood covering her clit. Abigail breathed out hoarsely, breath shuddering from the tension. Further her finger went and it separated her wet lips. The young woman hunched tightly against herself. Her temples were pounding. Her whole body was a bundle of wires. The ocean roared in her ears. She reached further and then jumped as she felt her ass. Quickly, she crooked her finger and brought it up again until the tip touched her hood.

She pictured him again. Jason. His smile. His strong arms and legs. Her finger reached down again and she opened to it. His pants. Tight. Holding... holding

that

. Abigail gasped quietly, head back as her fingertip dipped inside of her sex. It was so warm. And so slick. From her need. Her hips began to work back and forth again. Slow, tiny movements.

Jason, in her mind, held her close. It was after their wedding day, of course. At night. He was so handsome in his tuxedo and she was beautiful in her pure white dress. They were laughing, drunk on their excitement. He was leading her to their bed at a fancy, rich hotel. In Paris. No, Rome. He undressed before her. Slowly. His chest was hairy, as a man's chest should be. She blushed (in her thoughts) as he began unbuttoning his pants.

Abigail's hand went unconsciously to her left breasts, the heel pressing against it to work out the ache. Her finger slowly explored in her tight, wet sex. Her hips worked back and forth. Back and forth. Small dark brown hairs sprouted from her fat, wet lips, surrounding her sex before disappearing into the tangle of her pubic hair.

Back in her mind, Jason's pants slid to the floor and she looked down. His penis hung like a horse's. Round, thick and flat at the tip. It was all she could think of at the moment. Better than making something else up and it being ridiculous. It grew as she watched and her finger began to work fast. Jason was undoing her dress, somehow while she was still on her back.

She lay naked before him. She hid her small breasts in embarrassment but he gently took her arms away.

Abigail grunted as her finger moved, rubbing her clit through the hood of skin. She licked her lips again and whispered Jason's name. A few long, stray brown hairs grew from her areola. Lines of sweat broke out along her stomach, rolling to her right side.

In her mind, the young man's penis lay against her belly. He was looking down at her. Smiling at her. Her husband. His penis was warm and heavy on her. She wanted to touch it. She wanted to see if it was as smooth and soft and silky as it looked. He moved, though, and it brushed her sex just as her finger was doing now.

In her bed, her other hand slid against her nipple and she almost cried out. Her hips worked faster as she rubbed herself. But, in her mind, she hid her face as Jason's penis pressed against her sex. He was so gentle with her and, as her entered her, he told her he loved her.

Pressure built deep inside the young woman. She grunted again and then gasped, finger inside while her palm rubbed against the little hidden clit. Harder and faster and she still felt so empty. Jason was inside of her. Holding her tight. Kissing her gently. He-

Abigail cried out sharply, her legs jerking. She pressed her thighs together as a warm spray of liquid coated them. A thick, rich smell filled the air and she could feel her own juices completely coating her hand. Her heart hammered beneath her reddened chest. She jerked again, involuntarily as a smaller orgasm coursed through her. Tears leaked behind tightly closed eyelids. Tears of joy and of shame. It had just felt so

good

. And, yet, her she lay in her own filth.

For a brief moment, she considered getting up to wash her sheets and blanket and clothes but the laundry room was too far away and it was the middle of the night. And she'd probably wake her roommate. She would know exactly what she'd done. She would just have to sleep in it. If anything, it was a good punishment. Not only had she touched herself when she shouldn't have but she'd apparently peed herself as well. She hid herself under her blankets but then immediately came out again. Her scent was strong and made her start to ache a little more again.

Slowly, above her wet pajama bottoms, fine chestnut hairs begin to sprout in a line from the matted, slick tangle of her pubic hair. The hairs grew thick and coarse down the middle until the touched her belly button. Light, softer brown hairs, mixed with red, fanned to her sides, smaller and smaller until they vanished from sight. More reddish-brown hairs grew from tuft of fur around her sex and down to surround her small, pink asshole. The skin above the young woman's ass stretch outward as a small bump formed.

Abigail reached to tuck a non-existent stray piece of hair behind her ear but stopped and, instead, scratched at her ears with her free hand. The skin of her ears thinned slightly as they stretched, almost imperceptibly, rounding at the tip. She made a small motion, rubbing at her left ear with her clenched fist and then dragging it back and down to settle her hair. She repeated the motion, rubbing her ear and then down along her hair. It felt therapeutic and she finally began to calm.