World War T is a series of independent, vaguely interconnected stories about different tentacle monsters invading earth, very much an erotic homage to World War Z. These very short stories do not need to be read sequentially.
*
There are two types of baths...
I know I'm not alone in tickling myself with the water.
I know, I know, I sound stupid but sometimes those juvenile names for self-love seem to stick. I can't help it. I never shed that stigma around sex, especially alone.
I mean, I masturbated... who doesn't? But I could barely talk about sex let alone articulate to Rachel why I really needed a long soak...
On the other side of the spectrum, my roommate had little problem shedding her clothes and playing with herself in the common areas. I'd caught her a few times in the living room already, but I never said anything. Given the casual way she flirted with the subject, I don't know that she would have even cared if I watched. Even so, it was a little shameful to admit that I'd lingered a few times, unable to stop my bicuriosity.
We lived on the beach. I was on my way out through the living room when I saw her breasts, her bikini top pulled down on either side, the tan-lines from our time in the sun shining out it as a pale beacon, flashing neon signs to what she was doing to herself....
I just watched, one leg up and splayed out on the living room chair, the other disappearing from my view. I could see her nipples, tiny and dark against the light silhouette of where her bikini top would have rested. They moved with each heavy breath, her breasts a little bigger than mine, seeming to sway as if inviting my attention.
God she was just so gorgeous.
My hand reached down, touching myself without any real purpose, lost as platinum blonde hair fell into her eyes, her lips pursed together in a growing groan.
She let a cry...
"Just like that..."
It brought me out of my reverence, making me rush blush-faced towards my room, only to change my mind.
I'm one of those women who overdoes the bathroom, so even though I needed the release, I first needed to add the salts and sunflowers mixture (and a dozen other things) in order to really relax. I adjusted the knobs, finding the right temperature between scalding hot and artic chill only after tweaking the handle back and forth compulsively.
I undid my robe, looking at my lily white skin in the mirror, thinking about tying up my dark hair before deciding I would just give everything a thorough wash.
I wondered if a tan like Rachel's would even take on my skin...
And with the thoughts of her breasts, the image of them peeking out from the side of the chair fresh in my mind, I slid down into the rising water. I adjusted, my legs outside of the porcelain, the water falling down onto my clit in the precise position I'd always enjoyed. One finger touched my nipple, the other spreading myself apart...
