Out of Body Experience

"You can," I interrupted her. "But... But me too."

"How?"

"I don't give a shit!" I blurted out. "Use your fingers, do something!"

A flash in her eyes. Complete, totally astonishment. "O-okay."

And she brought a hand away from my hip, slid it underneath the waist of my pajamas, underneath my underwear, and found my twitching slit. As soon as she touched it, I felt the wetness against my fingers, and the pleasure shooting between my legs. I gasped out a sharp, "Yes!" and immediately released her hair.

It took no time for her to start again. I felt my tongue slide all the way up inside, as far as she could make it go. I rolled my head against the pillows. Her fingers found her clit, and I croaked an excited, "Fuck!" She twirled her fingertips in fast little circles. Much faster than I normally do it to myself. But there was nothing I could do to stop it. I squirmed on the bed, another hand masturbating me, pussy filling my mouth.

Oh my god, it felt so hot. I would have never thought... Never have imagined. I almost couldn't take it. "Tara," I gasped, not understanding that I had started moaning along with her. "Tara, slow- slow down a- ah!- a little..."

God. She didn't. I think she started pressing harder. My jaw started to feel tired; she was lapping at me with her whole tongue, every few seconds sucking against me. I can't even explain this. Jesus. It was building inside of me.

She was erratically rolling her hips against her hand. Her voice hummed inside of me. Muffled, uncontrolled. I couldn't help bucking against her face. Her fingers were- shit! I've never done it like that. She was actually going to make me- make me...

I felt my throat tighten. Her body began to convulse, and she screamed between my legs.

"Oh fuck!" I cried out. "Fuck-fuck-fuck...!"

My face contorted, my eyes straining wide, staring at the ceiling helplessly as my body was overwhelmed in climax. My nails were in the back of her neck, and I began to claw—feeling the pain behind myself. Whiteness around the edge of my vision, pouring in around me. Sounds slowing down, muting. Everything was so bright. I couldn't even hear myself cursing and crying in pleasure. It was the most fucked up, confusing, powerful orgasm of my life.

And then I blacked out.

VII

I didn't wake up until the next morning. The sound of the shower running is what brought me out of it, I think. I was lying in an odd position on the bed... On top of the sheets. Nowhere near the pillows. My arm and neck were sore from sleeping funny. I crawled up and rolled onto my back, trying to stretch myself out.

I laid there for a minute, trying to process what happened. The memories were coming back to me so slowly. It was all a blur. I remembered I was reading, and Tara came home, we were talking, and... My body shot upright with a fast jerk. I ignored the painful crick darting through my body. Hands in front of my face, flipping them over. They were mine.

I glanced up; couldn't see the mirror. I practically jumped—almost tripped!—getting to the dresser. It was me. Tired eyes, disheveled appearance. I looked down. My clothes. My body. Was it all a dream? It couldn't have been. It had to be.

The shower water turned off. Tara. I couldn't face her like this. I didn't know what to say. What if she tried to talk to me? Was she there too? I looked around in a little panic, then decided to get back in the bed. As soon as I pulled the sheets over me, I remembered that's not how I fell asleep. She might notice but... fuck it. I shut my eyes.

It seemed like time was crawling. I expected her to come out of the bathroom at any instant. I started to wonder about my plan. It was the weekend; she might not even be going anywhere this morning. How long was I willing to fake sleep? This was taking forever. She always kicks the door open and lets the steam out. She usually gets dressed right out in the open. What is she doing?

I finally saw the doorknob starting to turn, and immediately shut my eyes. But my curiosity instantly got the better of me. I pried one open, just a little bit. It would look like I'm sleeping, but I could see some. Thankfully, it was Tara who quietly came out of the room. Her face, her body, her clothes.

It was a relief. But even through that, I knew something was odd. She completely dressed and preened herself in there. She never does that. And she was pushing the door open so slowly, like she was deliberately being as silent as possible. What does she care? She never cares.

She took a long look at me, looked down at herself, and slipped out of our dorm.

What the fuck was that all about? Was it real? It couldn't have been. Did I just get sick last night? Did I get a fever? Was I hallucinating? Oh god, was I talking in my sleep?

I leaned up in the bed again, and ran my hands through my hair. I winced a little bit as my fingers brushed the back of my neck. That was weird... I touched again, and muttered an audible, "Ouch!"

Pulling myself out of the bed again, I walked over to the mirror. Craning my head to the side, I could see long scratches across the nape, above my shoulder blades. I stood frozen. Now that I wasn't worried about seeing Tara, my mind became wholly focused on my memories of the previous night. I don't think I even blinked as I replayed everything in my head. All the way up to my screaming orgasm... nails scraping the neck between my legs.

It fucking happened. It had to have. I've never had a dream that long before. I knew I didn't. And I've never been able to remember details like that from a dream anyway. I started to shake. Of course! That's why Tara was avoiding me. She knew it was real too. What the fuck happened between us? It was impossible!

I needed to think. To calm down. I took a long, long hot shower. Washed myself over two or three times. I needed to brush my teeth. I couldn't tell if I actually did still taste pussy in my mouth, or if I was just imagining it. My mind raced. Was I crazy? Was I insane?

Am I insane?

***

I've been cooped up in the room all day. Tara hasn't come back yet. I've been all over the internet, trying to find something that will make sense of it all. Nothing fits. Unless I've lost my mind. But fuck. I feel normal. And the scratches on my neck! I constantly reached to touch them throughout the day, thinking maybe once, they just wouldn't be there. That the little proof I have was imagined somehow.

It's passed dinner now. I thought about calling Tara. To see if she was okay. I had it all planned out. I wouldn't mention anything; I would just ask normal questions. Maybe ask her to pick something up at the store if she was out and about. But I couldn't do it. Every time I thought about her I... I just get overwhelmed by memories of us having... of us fucking.

So I'm writing it down. Or, I guess, I've written it down now. I don't know if it's helping. God. Focusing on every little detail... All it's done is make it more obvious that it happened. I couldn't make this up. And, well...

I'm supposed to be honest. There's no point in hiding anything at this point. Writing it all. Thinking about it. I can't help it. I got wet. I mean, I still am. I've touched myself some, but haven't pushed myself all the way. At first I thought it was wrong, but... I don't care. I want it.

Why should I fight it? Maybe that was the problem. It felt so good once I let go last night. I'm allowed to feel good. I can be free too. Hmm. It's getting harder for me to write now. I really need to come. I think I'm going to try that thing Tara did.

Jesus. I'm going to think about her too. What if she comes home and sees me? The thought almost made me smile. I don't know what's happening to me. But I'm not sure that I don't like it.

***

As always, I hope you enjoyed the story. If you have any comments or feedback, I would love to hear it. Thanks for reading!