He stepped into the water, relishing the way the water burned at his skin while soothing his muscles. He stretched beneath the falling water, touching his toes, craning his neck from side to side, and in the fog of his super-heated shower, she danced in his mind. But now, she danced for him. She danced with him in her eyes, knowing the effect she was having on him, wanting to have that effect, commanding her power over him while moving her body to the sound of their hearts beating.
The heavy length hanging between his legs began to stir with signs of life. He groaned as the tingle intensified. He knew he shouldn't but he couldn't help himself as his fingers began to caress the hardening appendage. He moaned out loud when he closed his hand around his shaft, pretending it was her skin on him. He breathed out, hissing through clenched teeth as the feeling of his hand, combined with the images in his mind, combined to form a heavenly elixir of pleasure. He spent some time, thinking and stroking, but each time his orgasm approached, he denied the release. He wanted to have her as long as he possibly could. He did manage to tear himself away from thinking of her long enough to get showered and dried off. He brushed and flossed his teeth, and then, walking with his towel hanging from his hips, he swaggered into his room. He dropped the towel from his body and laid atop the blankets on his bed.
Here he lay and once more his mind turned to her. In his writhing thoughts of his true love, he lost himself in the joy he thought, surely, could never be his.
There are some benefits, Samantha thought, to going out on a date with a popular guy; he seemed to have no problem getting alcohol. She was half-way through her third strawberry margarita, deliciously fruity on her tongue, when she felt the urge to go to the bathroom. The pressure building in her kidneys now demanded release and she rose, unsteadily to her feet.
"Escuse me, I think, I think, hehehehehehe, imma go to the, hic, little girl's room." She grabbed up her purse and heels, and found her way to the bathroom. Once inside she allowed herself to walk normally again. The alcohol had not yet hit her as hard as she was letting on but being new to drinking at all she expected to be relatively out of it as the night progressed. This was her chance, she thought, to make a clean escape while she could still think at all. As she dropped her panties and lifted her skirt she hoped with all she had that her brother was not still awake waiting for her. She did not want him to see her like this.
Sitting bare in the tiny room made her feel the tingle she so often got right before she peed. She couldn't explain it, but for some reason, feeling the flow from between her legs left her feeling warm and breathing heavier than normal. This, naturally, turned her thoughts to Jericho but before those thoughts could get out of control she was finished. Wiping herself almost always brought him back to her mind but tonight, maybe because of the alcohol, he was not there.
She felt kind of bad about what she planned to do but she had already made it this far so turning back wasn't really an option any longer; at least that's what her inebriated mind told her. With one last thought about Mark the boring quarterback, she hauled herself out of the bathroom window, landed solidly on her bare feet in the grass, and flagged down a cab.
Mark was certain that tonight was his night. So many of his friends had tried to date the "Ice" princess before and had gotten nothing for their troubles. Though they made their jokes to preserve their egos, they all knew she wasn't a lesbian, so no one could figure out what her deal was. Mark had watched so many crash and burn and decided it was time that the little virgin be taken from her shell and shown a world where she actually has a purpose. He expected her to come willingly enough, but if he had to use force he would just enjoy it more. He had learned none-too-long ago that despite what his dad said about using power tools, sometimes forcing it was so much better.
He had spent the night, thus far, regaling her with his tales of heroism on the football field and knew that if she had any brains in her head at all, her panties were sticking to her by now. That probably explained her little bathroom visit. Well, that and all the alcohol laced with something special procured from a seedy friend, he had been giving her. He didn't need her to remember what happened, he would prefer if she did, but he would gain satisfaction from her waking up sore and having no memory of what happened the night before.
He scanned the room. Normally this local hotspot had all sorts of fine women walking around in short skirts and "do-me" tops, but tonight it was surprisingly dead. Could be the release of some new movie or a school function, Mark didn't really care. Since there was nothing else to occupy his mind, his attention turned to his watch. She had been in the bathroom a long time now. He wasn't an idiot, he knew girls had to poop as well, but you'd think if the girl had any manners she would do that on her own time. Oh, well, she would pay for making him wait. She just didn't know it yet.
The cab smelled of old popcorn, stale cigarette smoke, and rancid sweat. Still, it was a better scent to her than the over-powering cologne Mark had been wearing. Drakkar for Douches, she thought it must have been called. Her joke drew a drunken chortle from her throat and the driver looked at her skeptically in his rear-view mirror. Still, he minded his business and took her to the address she had given him. She could feel the world spinning around her and colors swam in a dizzyingly beautiful rainbow before her eyes. She traced the colors with her hands laughing to herself in a goofy manner.
The driver had seen this behavior before, often in the case of women who were stoned out of their minds. This girl didn't look the type but nowadays you couldn't really tell. He dropped her off at the curb in front of a nice suburban looking ranch house and after counting the money she had given him, pulled off and into the darkness.
Samantha could feel her cares slipping away. Her anxiety, her stress, even the knots in her muscles seemed to melt taking her into a world of care-free bliss. She pulled her keys from her purse, dropped them, picked them up, dropped them again, stomped her feet and then laughed as the world tilted around her. She didn't fall. Stooping to grab her keys once more she managed, with a bit of work and a fair amount of concentration, to get the door open. Once inside, she dropped her keys on the floor (thinking she dropped them on the entryway table) along with her shoes and purse. Barefoot, she climbed the stairs and danced the hallways to her room. She crawled into her bed, softer than it had ever been before, and tossed and turned trying to get comfortable.
It happened, as it always seems to, that the moment she found a comfortable position, she realized she had to pee. Sighing in mock frustration, she rose from her bed and danced to the bathroom between her room and her brother's.
Being at home brought a level of comfort to her that she never experienced anywhere else. Being drunk and at home made her comfortable and a bit daring. When she entered the shared bathroom, she decided that instead of being the good girl she always was, that she would do something she always wanted to instead. Looking into the mirror, she lifted her dress and tossed it to the floor. She shook her hair until it had, what she thought, was a "bedroom" mussed look.
She bit her lip seductively and slowly slid her bra to the floor. Her hands cupped her breasts, the nipples responding enthusiastically. She became flush, her blood rushing through her, pounding through her vascular system in a race to reach all the tingling parts of her anatomy. Standing before the mirror, she admired her toned body. Yoga every morning and cardio in the evening had melted the fat from her midsection leaving only toned tight muscle in its place. The panties she had worn, panties she had hoped to tease her brother with one day, were black, and lacey. Practically see through in all the right places. She sat on the toilet with the garment firmly in place. She didn't understand why it appealed to her and she didn't need to, she only needed to know that the idea made her unbelievably hot and that was enough. She released her muscles, allowing the feeling of need to run unabashed through her.
The first spurt was hot and barely enough to soak the light material of her panties. The second release was much stronger and she could feel the hot liquid splashing against the dark black lace back onto her skin as more and more poured from her. She could feel it dripping from her panties, feel it flowing to the back of the garment around her tight little star before dripping from there as well. The delicious sensations caused her to bite her lip and lightly moan as she gave in to a desire she had held for as long as she could remember. It was over far to soon but the memory remained.
