Dweeb Ch. 04

Part of Charles wish was briefly fulfilled when Colleen turned further to the right to collect the ReaLemon from the waterbed's duvet. As she flashed a full-frontal view, he gasped at the dusky curls thickly layered on her lower abdomen and then petering out into wispy tendrils framing her vulva. Her pussy seemed to be a long lovely flower, perhaps an iris, with darker petals lifting through her pubic bush. It was more fantastic than he had imagined it was when he saw it yesterday shadowed in her ordinary white cotton briefs.

Charles' snatched peek at Colleen's pouting snatch quickly ended as she turned away from him and stepped through her bathroom door, leaving him hungry, but mentally relieved that he had not been found out. Freezing her memory in his mind, he turned to the serious business of relieving the intense sexual pressures that were bursting inside him. With his back flat against the hall wall and his legs wide-spread, he stared up at the stippled plaster ceiling while he mauled his meat until seeds spewed from his joint onto his gripping knuckles.

In her bathroom, Colleen opened the shower sliding door and turned the single-handle faucet to full hot. Then, facing herself in the medicine cabinet mirror next to the frosted window over sink, she lamented, "Not too smart, Collie... unprotected sex at the exact midpoint of your menstrual cycle." She stared skeptically at the lemon juice in her right hand and mused, "If Ford's sperm are slow and haven't gotten too far upstream, or already found an egg I might've sent out, maybe this citric acid will change my vagina's pH enough to make it inhospitable." She sighed, "But, no matter what, I better make sure I'm at Walgreen's when they open so I can get a Plan B going."

As the shower steam fogged up the bathroom mirror, Colleen used her left index finger to make a sad face over her disappearing reflection. Then, after taking a natural sponge from the wicker basket on the counter, she adjusted the spray temperature to her liking and stepped under its needles. Immediately, she felt relaxation pour through her body as the hot water hit her chest below her suprasternal notch then splashed outward over her breast tops before sheeting down to her belly. She soaked the sponge and languorously laved it softly all over her torso.

Remembering her purpose, Colleen saturated the sponge with as much juice as she could squeeze from the ReaLemon bulb, then pushed it between her legs and stuffed what she could past the opening to her pussy. Not much of the bulk entered her before it counterproductively induced lubricating mucus and aroused her muscle memory of Wilford Womack's penetrating cock. She groaned aloud to her dead husband, "Ohhh, Wally! I've been so good for so long, but tonight I was sooo bad!" Compelled by her reactive cunt's renewed need, she dropped the sponge to the shower floor and substituted more satisfyingly her left hand's three stiff middle fingers as deep as their webbing permitted.

As she plunged into her long unused, but recently revitalized love-channel, Colleen's left thumb stabbed her excited clitoris. Involuntarily, she doubled over. Balancing herself, with her ash-blonde head on the shower wall above the faucet and her feet split wide to the sides, she wept, "Wally, Walllee, Waahhlllleee..."

The hot spray on Colleen's arched back, the thrusting digits in her contracting cunt, and the confusing conflation of the only two lovers she had ever had, brought on a powerful orgasm. It wracked through her chest and muddled her mind. Her legs quivered and her breath came in short shuddering gasps. Fearful she might fall, she further braced herself on the tiled wall with her right hand, but she didn't stop, couldn't stop, agitating her inflamed flooding nest.

As her anguished ecstasy subsided, Colleen straightened up, shut off the shower, and slumped limp against the stall's back wall. "Oh, Ford," she sighed. "What have you done?" Correcting herself, she asked, "What have I done?" The answer to those questions would be manifest in thirty-nine days; just in time for Fathers' Day.