Good glands. Good hips. Fat percentage a little low. Slight concern about the ability to feed herself without malnutrition. Still the prime candidate to carry the next generation.
---
Mary couldn't get the strange happenings out of her mind as she was powering through homework that evening. It hadn't reoccurred after the shower at the pool. Maybe it was just a strange thing with water pressure? It was unthinkable to mention this to anyone. Her friends would think she was going crazy because it had been years since she had had a boyfriend. She did not want to hear about that again, mostly because it was a really sore topic.
To illustrate how desperate the situation was, that one imaginary touch on her breast had made it impossible for her to focus the whole day. She wanted more. She wanted someone to run their hands across her body, to carry her to a bed, and to fuck her silly. Was it too much to ask? This was college, for fuck's sake.
There was nothing wrong with the way she looked. She had shoulder-length hair, medium breasts, a good figure, and a face that had been called pretty more than once. Her friends told her she was too timid. Too selective. Too focused on long term. "Just let go and have fun," they said. "Worry about it in the morning." But she couldn't do that. Her fantasies were different from her realities. Had a guy tried to carry her anywhere, she'd maced him and called the cops. Not exactly the best response to a mating ritual.
At least she had masturbation. It was better than nothing, and she was getting pretty good at it. Her favorite style was to lie in the tub, and let the pure stream of water rush to her clit. The sensation was incredible. The raw nature of water, the relentless, primal force sending millions of vibrations through her body as individual droplets hit her most precious spot. She'd stay there for as long as she could, one orgasm after another, letting her screams drown under the deep, calm voice of water.
After, she would lie in the tub, her body soaking in the warm bath. All of the worries in the world washed away, she in her element. She'd make tiny waves with her hands, those waves coming back and massaging her. In bliss, waiting as patiently as water itself.
Unfortunately, today was not one of those days. She would have to settle for a quick fingering in the shower. She had a paper due, and an early swim tomorrow.
The water was splashing on her as her fingers finessed her trigger points. This was nice too. She was still with water. The water, it seemed friendlier today. It felt better on her face. It didn't strike as hard as usual. Instead, it was touching her, drawing lines on her face like an invisible finger. Then, the sensation moved. The water hitting her breasts started caressing her. It was impossible, of course. Water wasn't alive. She was imagining it, mixed in her sexual fantasies somehow. But, by gods, it felt nice. The sensation stayed there for the remainder of the time it took Mary to get rid of her tension. As her legs were shaking in the afterquakes of her orgasm, she thought the water was helping her stay up. Reluctantly, she turned the shower off, dried her skin, and went to bed.
--- The morning had come. Something was clearly not normal. The cool water in the pool kept touching her, sending shivers from her clitoris to her spine. Adjusting her suit did nothing. Changing to a different stroke did nothing. She wasn't one to stop an exercise just because of some imaginary sex fantasies. Lap by lap she filled her distance, lap by lap was she made hornier and hornier by something touching her where nobody had in years.
She eyed the pool suspiciously after climbing out. Her cunt was pulsing, demanding continued attention, begging for a release. The water was still as eternity, no ripples from her remained. It stood there, waiting.
It took all of Mary's willpower to prevent her from touching herself there in the public shower. She was glad the pool was empty. It must have been obvious how aroused she was. Her pussy was dripping something other than pool water, her nipples pointing through the strong, elastic fabric of her suit. She managed to shower without losing her self-control. The shower seemed helpful, for once, the water sliding off her skin like it had been Teflon. She was clean in no time.
The hours were long for a girl who wanted nothing but to be fucked. Twice she rushed to the bathroom, brought her hand inside her pants, and stopped only at the last moment. Delayed gratification. It would be so much better at home. She could have a river of orgasms, all given to her by water, not clumsy human fingers. Her cheeks were roaring red as she went from one class to another. A friend asked if she was all right. She shrugged, and kept daydreaming.
Finally, she was home. In seconds, she was bare, her clothes a messy pile on the floor. The water was singing to her from the pipes. It grew louder as she stepped into the bathroom. All would be well soon. She turned the water on, and she was instantly perfectly aligned, instantly perfect temperature. Usually she had to wiggle herself a little to get the perfect spot, but not today. The water was pushing against her pulsating pussy, and she knew she was close even before she had started. It felt better than ever before. It was as if the stream was twisting, swirling around, hitting her clitoris from all sides simultaneously. But that wasn't possible. She was imagining it.
She came violently. Her vagina started its contractions as her whole body shook from the force that had been building up the whole day. No, several days. As her involuntary twitches moved her around the tub, the stream followed like magic, giving her no rest even during her orgasm. The bombardment of pleasure only grew, as the stream increased in flow. Her mind did not register how odd this was, as she succumbed to another orgasm. It was all she could do to remain conscious, and even then it she was a passenger, not in control in any way.
