The Scholarship Ch. 03

So, with the brush in hand, my body wet with steam and perspiration, and my pussy wet with excitement and arousal, I stepped under the shower. The hot mist played over my breasts and body as I stood there just taking it all in, feeling the wonderful sensations. I ran both hands over my breasts, stopping at the bottom and lifting each one upward so that the spray fell directly onto my very hard and erect nipples. The sensation was truly wonderful, making that tingle deep in my belly spread downward to my pussy and upward to my breasts. My body was on alert. Something very erotic was about to happen.

I took my bath gel and squirted a generous amount of the cool liquid into the palm of my hand. I don't understand why this soap always feels cool to the touch, even when everything else in the bathroom is hot and steamy, but it does. Rather than rubbing my palms together first, I rubbed the gel directly onto my breasts while it still felt a little cool. The contrast between the cool gel, my warm, wet globes, and the hot water was delicious. The purple liquid made the whole shower smell of lavender.

I massaged the gel into my breasts, my shoulders, my belly, taking my time. I wanted to savor the sensations. With the now-warm soap clinging to my breasts and abdomen, I squirted more into my palm, and this time rubbed my hands together before bending down and applying the soapy liquid to my feet and legs. I moved my hands slowly upward, caressing my legs sensuously, and paying special attention to my inner thighs. I got a little more gel in my hands and applied more to my thighs, rubbing up and down along the insides, and finally allowing my hands to go to my mound.

I rubbed the soap generously into the coarse, dark hair, making it look almost white from the suds clinging to it. As I massaged it in, I took both hands and pressed my labia together, running my hands along that crease on either side, where my legs meet my torso.

All the while, the hot shower was raining down on me, pelting me with its fine spray on my back. Finally, I turned around and let the shower wash the suds from my breasts, belly and mound. My hands lingered at each sensitive spot, as the white bubbles trickled down my legs and into the drain.

With the soap gone, I could feel how wet I had become. I ran one finger along the length of my slit and marveled at my arousal. I slipped one finger inside and it entered me with hardly any resistance. I left that one finger there and brought my other hand to my pussy, lovingly caressing my hood, then using two fingers to make little circles around my emerging clit.

A low moan of pleasure escaped me before I remembered where I was.

The whole collection of sensations just felt so good. The hot spray of the shower. The steamy mist that enveloped me. The scent of lavender, And, of course, the feel of my finger now moving in and out of my tight tunnel while my other hand stroked my clit. My knees were slightly bent by now so I could thrust my hips forward in a lewd fucking motion as I rode my finger.

I reached over to the bench and took the brush in my hand. Ever since using Marni's dildo, I had longed to be filled like that again, and I hoped the brush handle would help recreate that wonderful sensation. My hand trembled just a little as I moved the handle slowly toward my wet opening. I turned it so the curve was pointing in the right direction and slid it slowly inside.

"Mmmmmmmm." Another involuntary cry of pleasure. This time I didn't even consider whether I was alone. My body had taken me over completely.

I held my breath, literally, as the handle slid inside, again with little resistance. I was so incredibly wet by now. And that little curve on the end slid right up and pressed against my magic spot, as if it was some special tool that had been designed just for that.

I leaned against the cool wall. The bristles of the bush pressed against my pussy lips and their sharp tips scratching against my thighs. I pressed it deep, my hand gripping the bristles so the entire the handle was available to fill me. I closed my eyes and breathed the heavy-laden steamy air and concentrated on the sensation as I stirred the soft walls of my vagina. Around and around I moved the handle, always returning to linger and press hard against my wonderful little bundle of nerves there near the front of my drenched tunnel. My toes touched the other wall and curled against it as I spread my legs wider and both hands gripped the bristling dildo as I fucked myself.

Slowly, savoring the pleasure, I drew one hand along the center line of my stomach, up over my mound, pausing to fondle the wet curls, teasing over my navel. The hair of my head drooped over my eyes with the steam. My hand fondled the taut muscles of my abdomen, caressing the hard-earned neatness of my compact tummy. Finally, my hand made generous love to my breasts, rolling first one and then the other, then grasping, grasping them together, trying to grip both with one hand, pulling my nipples.

While below, my eager, neglected cunt swallowed and sucked the handle deep into my body. I glanced out into the locker room past the edge of the curtain, wondering if I was still alone.

By this time, it didn't matter. My body craved release, and nothing could stop it now. I slid my hand from my breasts, down again to my needing cunt, and grasped my hard clit between my index and middle fingers, sort of squeezing it between them. My little pearl was swollen and very sensitive by now. I massaged it to the rhythm of the brush handle slipping in and out of my tunnel--a little faster with each thrust.

As my mind gave way to the intense sensations, I closed my eyes and pictured Marni in the shower with me, her hand gripping the brush, which was by now invading me very vigorously. In my mind, I could see her naked with me, the shower spray pelting her breasts, too, and cascading down over her belly and mound and leaving little droplets in her pubic hair. I saw the pure lust in her face, eyes half-closed and lips slightly parted as she thrust the slick pink handle in and out of me.

It was clear that she was extremely aroused, too, as she plunged her fingers into her own pussy as her other hand fucked me wantonly with the brush. My fingers were now making faster and faster circles on my clit, trying to match the speed of her thrusts.

I paused for just a moment to reach up and grab the hand-held shower massage in my right hand and twisted the setting to pulse. The hot spray began to spurt out in rapid, firm bursts--almost at the same rhythm that my imaginary Marni was using to fuck me with the brush handle.

I directed the bursts of water at my clit, as the brush fucked me harder and faster. My knees bent further and I humped the brush and thrust my clit toward the hard stream.

Just before my orgasm burst over me, I saw her! Miranda Steele, sitting on that tile bench, those cold eyes of her locked on my beautiful Marni and me. Almost expressionless, she watched us fuck wantonly, as if we were there entirely for her amusement.

I tried to stop, tried to stop that makeshift dildo from invading me. But I couldn't. I was over the edge now, locked in the embrace of the most wrenching orgasm I'd ever experienced. And Miranda Steele was watching, studying me as I went totally out of control.

"Ooooohhhhhhh fuuuuck!" The throbbing, pulsing was so strong, it buckled my knees and I dropped to the wet floor, kneeling on the hard tile as the brush handle continued to fuck me. I released the massager and pressed my hand hard against my clit.

The sensations were amazing! I could feel the contractions in my vaginal walls, my belly and in my rectum as wave after wave swept over me. And as they began to subside a little, to my shock and surprise, I felt a hot yellow stream escape me, washing over my hand and the brush, before it disappeared into the drain.

And, yes, Miranda Steele watched that, too.

I was truly overcome and totally limp as I knelt there in the shower and tried to find the strength to stand. I was also a little scared by the strength of my orgasm. Only one other time had I cum hard enough to cause me to wet myself. Since then, I had always lived in fear that it would happen again, but this time with a partner. I didn't think I could stand the embarrassment of humiliating myself that way in front of someone else.

But, fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on how you view it), I'd never had such an orgasm with anyone else present. But the worry of it always made me hold back just a little during the few times I'd actually had sex.

I opened my heavy eyelids and looked around. My beautiful Marni was gone. And so was Miranda Steele. Of course, they hadn't really been there in the first place, but they both seemed quite real to me during the height of my ecstasy.

And, God help me, I wished that they had been there. Both Marni and Miranda. Especially Miranda!

When I finally felt as if my legs could support my 115 pounds again, I stood up, turned off the shower and began to dry myself. My breasts were still tender from my state of arousal, and my labia were puffy and swollen from the workout I'd given myself down there. But how I needed the release after depriving myself for so long!

I dressed and made my way across the nearly-deserted campus to my dorm, It was well after midnight, and I knew that Marni would be asleep by now. I wondered if she used my time away from the room to pleasure herself with that giant black dildo. The very thought of it made me tingle a little all over.

As I passed through the dorm lobby, I decided to stop and check my mail. It was then I saw the envelope. It lay innocently enough there in my mailbox. The envelope was made of a cool grey linen paper, with the letters "MS" written in bold gothic script in the upper left corner. My hands trembled as I tore it open.

The stationery matched the envelope and also had the "MS" insignia embossed at the top. The letter was neatly typed and was quite businesslike.

"Dear Ms. Robbins," the letter began. "It is time for your interview to determine whether your scholarship will be renewed for the second semester."

"Yeah, right," I thought to myself. "I bet it'll be some interview."

The letter continued, "Please report to the private aviation hanger at Midway Airport at 4:00 p.m. Friday, November 18. You will be flown to meet Ms. Steele for your interview.

"Ms. Steele has instructed me to advise you not to bring any luggage with you—only your purse. Any necessary clothing or personal care items will be provided upon your arrival."

It was signed, "Rachel Green, personal assistant to Miranda Steele."

Well, the other shoe had finally dropped. The warm glow I was feeling after my wonderful orgasm in the shower had suddenly turned into a cold dread (mixed, regrettably, with a perverse sense of arousal). It was time once again to find out to what depths Miranda Steele would take me in return for my scholarship.

It was also time to find out to what depths I would willingly go.