The Scholarship Ch. 03

Author's Note: I believe you'll find this story enjoyable on its own. But you'll enjoy it more if you read the two preceding chapters first.

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I slept at my friend Jessica's that night, lying there in the dark living room of her apartment, tossing and turning on the most uncomfortable futon in existence. But it wasn't the futon that was keeping me awake. It was all the thoughts and feelings that had been stirring inside me ever since this afternoon, when my roommate, Marni, burst into our dorm room and caught me masturbating.

Now, trying to get some sleep, I was this great mass of conflicting emotions. It wasn't so much embarrassment that she had caught me pleasuring myself. We had been doing that "together" for several months, although neither of us acknowledged what we were doing as we lay in the dark almost nightly and got ourselves off.

We never talked about it, but we could each hear the sounds of the other's pleasure—the rustling of the sheets, the soft moans, even the squishy sounds of fingers slipping in and out of our wet pussies. We had even gotten so "in sync" that our orgasms often came almost simultaneously. So getting "caught" masturbating by Marni that afternoon couldn't be why I was too uncomfortable to go home and face her.

And it wasn't even because I had "borrowed" the two headed dildo from her panty drawer. As free as Marni is sexually, she wouldn't have been embarrassed for me to find out that she owned that magnificent black toy. She probably would have demonstrated it for me if I'd asked, even though she'd always been respectful of my sexual inexperience.

Marni never acted in a way that would make me uncomfortable, although she didn't hesitate to let me see her naked. Nearly every morning after her shower, as she decided what to wear, she would bend and lean this way and that as she made selections from her closet and dresser. Not that I minded in the least. In fact, I rather enjoyed casting lingering and admiring glances over Marni's wonderful body.

And, as far as I knew, Marni didn't even know I had borrowed her toy that afternoon. I had been able to throw it back into her drawer just before she came charging in. So, while it was embarrassing, the incident shouldn't have made me so uncomfortable that I felt I had to sleep somewhere else.

As I lay there tossing and turning in Jessica's living room, I decided to be totally honest with myself, to confront what was really bothering me. And what I saw scared me to death. I was attracted to Marni. In fact, it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say I was lusting after her.

I thought back to how I felt that afternoon as I lay there on my bed, legs spread wide apart, as I thrust that big black cock into my pussy time after time. I wanted Marni to be on the other end of that two headed dildo!

I remembered how that slick, slithering dong slipped between my eager lips, and in my mind's eye, there was Marni, .... Marni, with her firm body, sweating and straining between my legs.

I wanted to see that beautiful pussy of hers open up and swallow the other end with her puffy wet lips. I wanted to see her move closer to me with each thrust of the big toy until our pussies were only inches apart. I wanted to watch the nectar ooze from our cunts and coat the shaft of the big cock until it was impossible to tell where Marni's wetness ended and mine began.

I wanted Marni to shove that cock into me, thrusting it in and out with the dong held in the hard grip of her cunt, ... fucking me while the dong fucked her, ... controlling my body by the movement of her hips.

I wanted to feel her warm breath in my mouth as our faces pressed close together and we panted in our desire for each other. And finally, and above all, I wanted to feel our labia caress one another and our clits press hard together in that most intimate of kisses.

And I wanted to stay like that forever, our bodies rocking slowly and gently back and forth as our breasts pressed against one another, nipples hard and sensitive. We'd move only just enough to keep ourselves on the brink of orgasm, holding ever so still each time one of us felt those little contractions beginning deep in her belly.

Once the feeling subsided, we'd begin to rock gently once more—rubbing, pressing, caressing, kissing—until we were so close to our climax that even the slightest movement would shove us both over the cliff. We'd even hold our breath, knowing that just the act of exhaling would be more that we could withstand.

And finally, Marni would exhale, blowing her warm breath into my open mouth, and it would hit us. Wave after wave of crashing, pulsing sensations would claim our bodies, our minds. I'd clutch her hips and pull her and that giant cock tight to me as my body celebrated this glorious release. Sweat would glisten on our bodies from the passion, the exertion of our mutual pleasure. Our cunts would rebel against the giant cock, while our contractions tried to force it deeper.

Her teeth would clench with an intense hard look, as if she wanted to dominate me. That's what scared me--the thought that Marni already held me captive.

When our throbbing finally began to subside, we would collapse, weak and spent, our pussies and our eyes still locked together. And we'd lie there in each other's arms, safe, warm and satisfied.

It was that desire for Marni that I couldn't face back in our dorm room and why I was in Jessica's apartment instead.

All my life I'd been a "good girl," a slave to convention. Even my sex life had been very ordinary up to this point (if you don't count my encounter with Ms. Miranda Steele). I'd slept with only two boys. And, of course, no girls! Where I came from, calling someone a "lesbian" was the most cutting of put-downs. I'd never be one of those. Or so I thought.

But my attraction to Marni, which I had to admit had been slowly developing all semester, was forcing me to confront some of my most fundamental beliefs. And it was uncomfortable. I thought it would just be easier to stay away from her for awhile and try to ignore it.

I realized, though, that I couldn't keep running away from my feelings. I would have to confront them—not necessarily by confessing to Marni how I felt about her—but at least getting my life back to normal and seeing where things went from there. I decided to return to my dorm room—and to Marni—the next day and see what developed.

All of a sudden, the futon got a lot more comfortable, and I drifted off to a dreamless sleep. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Jessica woke me next morning as she was clattering around in the kitchen, fixing herself a bite to eat before class. I squinted into the light and tried to focus both my eyes and my mind.

"Hey sleepyhead," she called. "It's about time you rolled out.

"I've made some coffee, and there's a bagel left over from yesterday. Help yourself." And with that Jessica was out the door.

I stumbled around a little as I disengaged myself from the futon. It was my hope never to spend another night with that steely monster, which was covered only by the thinnest of cushions. My restless night had left me drained, and I could tell that my emotions were right on the surface, as a result of my exhaustion and the events of yesterday.

But I was thinking clearly enough to realize that I needed to get to class by 9:30, and it was already a little after eight. My studies still came first, and I was determined not to let my grades fall off, even in my senior year, because I needed a good job when I graduated.

So I threw on my clothes from the night before and raced over to the dorm, not really knowing whether I hoped to run into Marni or hoped to avoid her. I decided that we wouldn't have time to talk this morning, anyway, so I opted for avoidance.

And that's the way it worked out, as I remembered Marni had an early class on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, just about the time I unlocked the door and dashed into our empty room.

I quickly threw off my clothes, slipped on a robe and headed down the hall to the communal bathroom we shared with 17 other girls on our end of the tenth-floor. Fortunately, there were individual shower stalls with curtains to provide a modicum of privacy. Though we often had to wait in the peak morning hours for one of the four showers to open up, I was running late enough today that most everyone was already on their way to class. I actually paused a moment and marveled at how quiet the bathroom was for a change.

Before Marni and I began our late-night masturbation ritual, I occasionally would slip down to the showers in the evening to relieve some of the day's stress before bedtime. But today, I didn't want it, didn't need it, and didn't have time for it.

I know I set a record as I showered, threw on my clothes, slipped my dark curly hair under a baseball cap and dashed out the door to my first class. I may not have looked great, but I was on time.

I had four classes during the day, so I didn't take time to go back to the dorm between them, choosing instead to eat lunch in the student union food court and study in the library during my other dead time. It turned out to be a productive day, but I was exhausted as I trudged back to the dorm after my final class.

I was surprised that the room was quiet and dark when I got back about 4:30 that afternoon. Marni usually beat me home on most days. I flipped on the light and looked around the room. And I saw the envelope lying on my pillow. My name was written on the outside in Marni's distinctive combination of cursive and printing.

My hands were shaking as I retrieved the envelope and removed the one-page note. And they shook even more as I began to read.

"Sarah, I noticed this morning that you had obviously gone through my dresser. I am not shocked at all that you would do it, but that it took you so long. To be honest, I went through some of your things soon after we moved in, not necessarily to be nosey, but rather to find out about the stranger that I'd be living with for a year. "

I could feel the redness rising in my cheeks as I continued to read.

"Please forgive me, as I will forgive you, for snooping through my things, at least. However, next time you fuck yourself with my dildo, please have the courtesy to clean and dry it so my lingerie won't be damp, and smell like sex."

It was, of course, signed by Marni. And I remember thinking how incongruous it was for her to dot the "i" at the end of her name with a little heart in a note like that. I could hardly read the final few lines through the tears that had welled up in my eyes.

So now, not only had my roommate caught me masturbating, she now thinks I'm a pig for not cleaning up after myself! All I needed now was a story about this incident in the campus newspaper and my humiliation would be complete.

It looked as if Jessica's futon and I had a date again tonight, and I dashed out of the room, praying that I wouldn't run into Marni on my way. I took the ten flights of stairs, rather than the elevator, to improve my chances of avoiding her. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"I'm sorry, Sarah," Jessica told me when I called her on my cell. "Bobby's in town for a few days and you know you two don't get along."

"I like Bobby just fine," I lied, desperate for a place to sleep, other than my dorm room.

"Well, I'm sorry, but he doesn't like you. He thinks you're a tight-assed bitch." She laughed about it as if she was kidding, but I knew that's what her creepy boyfriend really thought of me.

"Well, fuck Bobby! And fuck you, too," I screamed as I hung up on my former friend.

"I'm not a tight-assed bitch," I thought to myself. "Oh no, I'm a wanton masturbator and a sloppy one at that."

It was after midnight when I finally slunk back to the dorm, praying that Marni would be asleep. Thankfully, she was, and I quietly slipped out of my clothes, climbed into bed and pulled the covers over my head.

I kept my head covered and pretended to sleep as Marni got ready for class the next morning. When she was gone, I dragged myself out of bed and got ready, too. It was hard to even get up in my present emotional state, but I was determined to keep going. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

For the next several weeks, Marni and continued this little dance of avoidance. She'd rise early and leave. I'd come home late. It's amazing how you can totally avoid someone and still live with them in a 16x20-foot room.

And there was certainly no masturbating going on at night. The only sounds you could hear in the darkness from time to time were muffled sobs--coming from both sides of the room.

Of course, I spent my days away from the room, going to class, studying, and wondering when I would hear from Miranda Steele about the upcoming "interview" to see if she would renew my scholarship. I had a strange sense of anticipation about that interview, knowing that Miranda would do her best to humiliate me again. And knowing that in some sick, perverted way, I would be turned on by it.

God, I'd turned into a masturbating lesbian masochist!

In preparation for the upcoming interview, I'd been spending a lot of time at the university's new fitness center. I knew that one way or another, Miranda would get me out of my clothes, and I thought I might as well look my best when she saw me. I had to be careful and not think about the possibilities in too much detail, as I would find myself getting extremely aroused.

And with Marni and me no longer enjoying our late-night masturbation ritual, I had no way of relieving the tension. My workouts helped, and I worked even harder this particular day to drive the thoughts of Miranda and her kinky sexual games out of my mind.

The workout room of the rec center had almost a surreal quality about it. There were no windows to give any hint of the time, and the bright fluorescent lights made it always seem like the middle of the day—even though I always worked out late at night. Full length mirrors around three walls provided ample opportunity for us to measure our progress (or lack thereof) toward our ideal weight, shape, or whatever it was all of us were after.

An array of machines and contraptions nearly filled the large room, offering everything from weight and strength training to aerobic cycling. The floor was covered by blue industrial carpeting and had a bit of a "give" to it to put less stress on the knees. I had developed my own routine these past few weeks, knowing which areas of my body I wanted to improve in advance of my "interview" with Miranda.

First I took on the stair-climbing machine, which made my legs and hips burn, but promised to make my already tight little butt even harder. My legs were shaking and my feet felt like lead as I finally finished my reps.

Next, I moved to the incline board and started my crunches, putting a weight behind my head to make the exercise a little more difficult. I loved the way my stomach muscles tightened with each crunch, and I especially loved the new flatness I was noticing in my belly.

I used the weight machine to work on my pecs, wondering how long my 34-C breasts would be firm enough to let me get away with not wearing a bra from time to time. It was late and the workout room was almost deserted, and I ran my hands over both breasts, enjoying their firmness and noticing that my nipples were slightly erect.

By the time I finished 200 reps on the jump rope, my legs were wobbly again and my leotard was drenched with sweat. And there was a dampness in the crotch area that might have been from something else. I always felt sexy and aroused after a good workout.

I picked up my towel and water bottle and headed for the dressing room, where I had left my clothes in one of the lockers near the showers. Since I'd been avoiding the dorm as much as possible, I'd made it a habit of showering here at the rec center before going home late after Marni had already retired.

It was already 11:30, and the building closed at midnight. So there were few people in the workout rooms and no one in the women's locker room when I entered.

As I peeled off my wet leotard, I glanced in the mirror on the wall opposite my locker. I liked what I saw. The exercise was paying off, as my body had hardened noticeably over the past month, and at the age of 21, I was probably near the peak of my physical beauty.

I loved the way my smooth pale skin contrasted with my dark brown hair and eyes. I ran my hands along both cheeks, caressing them softly, before moving my fingers to my full pink lips and tracing their outline.

Just those brief touches on my face caused my nipples to harden noticeably. They were full and erect, the pinkness of the nipples and areola standing out from my two curvy white globes. The instant response of my nipples reminded me how long it had been since Marni and I had climaxed together and how much I missed it. I knew, without even touching, that the dampness between my thighs was not only from the exercise.

I kept my dark brown bush well trimmed in a neat "v" shape, but even with that, I felt quite hairy compared with Marni's cute "landing strip" that she never seemed to mind showing off around the room. I could see little droplets that had collected on my mound and along my lips from both my exertion and my arousal. And I knew I'd better hit the shower before I looked any further.

Fortunately, the showers in the rec center were also divided into individual stalls, each with an opaque curtain covering the opening. Just inside the curtain was a tile bench where you could set your soap, shampoo and any other necessities. I decided to use the shower on the far end, in order to have as much privacy as possible in a public locker room.

As I closed the curtain behind me, I reached in and turned the shower to the hottest setting. I wanted to fill the area with steam, as I like that feeling of being enveloped in a mist. Everything just feels more intimate.

I slipped out of the robe that I had worn to the shower and stood there just feeling the hot mist on my body. It wasn't long before little beads of moisture were all over me, especially my breasts. I caressed them a little before I even got into the shower.

Of course, my pussy was already wet from the time I'd spent in front of the mirror. And the fact that I'd been touching myself so intimately in an almost-public place gave me that little extra sensation of naughtiness and risk.

I've found that when my body feels an urgent need for release, as it did this night, that I rarely make a conscious decision to masturbate. Perhaps I don't want to take responsibility for choosing to do something that most of us have been discouraged from. However, if I just let my mind drift for awhile, allowing that tingling deep in my belly to take me over, my body will make the decision for me.

And somewhere between when I was looking at myself in the mirror and when I pulled off my robe in the shower stall, my body had decided. It was demanding an orgasm, and I intended to comply.

I glanced down at the bench where I had laid out my things and saw my hair brush. I hadn't thought about it before, but it was really perfect for what my body was needing. The bristles were black and stiff and the pink handle was made out of a hard, smooth plastic. The handle was as big around as two of my fingers put together, and about twice as long.

It was just perfect in another respect. So the handle would fit comfortably in the hand, it was sort of curved in the middle, making the end turn up just a little. That makes it easy to grasp when you're brushing your hair. But when held by the bristles and used for what I (no, my body) was planning, it gave the handle that perfect little curve on the end.

I knew instinctively that the handle would reach right up like two curved fingers to caress my g-spot.